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Quinn's Black Fantasies (Argus)


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Quinn's main source of income is refurbishing old computers and reselling them. She didn't have much money to renovate the old condo she'd inherited from her granny. But John Forbes offered her an exchange of services. She would build him a new computer, and save what she could from his broken old one. So the work began, normal enough, until one of the files she finds is a shocking, kinky bondage one involving him and a girl. Then she finds another!

It's impossible for the lovely young blonde not to see the big, powerfully built black man and not see those pictures. Especially when he works with his shirt off and his muscles glisten with sweat! Then his partner arrives to help, an identical twin brother! And soon another arrives, and she realizes they are triplets! She doesn't know which were in the pictures with submissive women tied up and serving them but even though they're older than her and she hardly knows them, she can't help having fantasies about being one of them.

And then is!

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2019

No. words: 33800

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Interracial Bondage/BDSM, Erotic Domination - M/F

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Chapter One

It can be hard being a smart blonde. Especially if you look like... well, like I do. I mean, don't get me wrong; I like looking good. Who wouldn't? But people look at me, and the first thing they see is a blonde. I've even thought about getting glasses (which I don't need) just so people go with that other cliché instead of the blonde one.
Who decided that girls with glasses were smart and nerdy and girls who were blondes were bimbos anyway? I mean, what the fuck!? Sometimes I wish I could just punch people in the face!
When you're five feet four, that's usually not a good idea, though. Plus I'm not much of an athlete or anything, and I don't, like, know any martial arts or like, kickboxing or any of that stuff.
I have a nice two bedroom condo which I inherited from my grandmother. It's not an expensive place because it basically overlooks a busy road and a shopping mall parking lot, and also the building is fifty years old.
I have the marks for college, but not the money. I could get a government loan for tuition and books but it wouldn't pay for the condo fees and taxes too. So what I did was I got a part-time job in a computer repair place because I knew the owner.
Of course, I knew the owner because he was real friendly when I went looking for parts one day. He's a horny old Chinese guy that kept trying to look down my shirt. When he couldn't do that he just stared at my chest a lot, or my hair, which seemed to fascinate him. The only part of me he ever tried to touch without permission was my hair. And he did that a lot.
But that was only mildly annoying. I didn't think of him as much of a threat since he wasn't much bigger than me and was old enough to be my grandfather.
His grandson was another story. He kept trying to brush up against me, kiss me, and grope me – though only when his grandfather wasn't looking.
What I had been doing the last few months was putting ads on Kijiji and other on-line sites advertising cheap used computers. I got them from work because they were junked. Or at least, I got parts at work. Like, the boxes, say, fans, hard drives, sometimes sound boards or video boards. I'd pick it up here and there, taking them from junked computers.
I also looked on-line and bought cheap used computers other people were selling and either disassembled them for parts, or upgraded them and resold them. I was getting to the point I was making more from that than from my job, and looking forward to that growing to the point I could quit.
I was also taking computer courses online. I don't mean the basics of how to build or repair PCs, because I had that down pat. I was looking at installation and networking of servers. That was a lot more complicated and paid a lot better.
At the same time, I was saving money to fix up the condo. My grandmother had lived here for decades, and hadn't done much of anything to upgrade the place. The kitchen is old. The bathroom older, with ugly lime green tub, toilet and sink. The floor is ugly, scratched up parquet flooring, except for the ugly tiles in the kitchen, that is.
So I was thinking; I'm young, healthy, fit, and high energy. I can do some of this myself. But then I did a little calculation, and I figured the time I'd spend doing it would cost me more money in time forfeited from working on computers than I'd spend hiring someone.
This was something I constantly explained to people who complained about what I charged and said they could do it themselves. I asked them how much time it would take them, and how much their time was worth.
The first thing I wanted done was to rip out the whole bathroom, gut the place, and replace it with something modern, with a shower not a tub. I never take baths anyway. I looked on Kijiji and selected a place called Triad, which had good up-votes. I emailed them and set up an appointment.
So I wasn't at all surprised when someone buzzed up from downstairs at exactly Six O'clock. In fact, I was pleased at how punctual he was. I buzzed him up and then waited at the door.
I should say that the corridors in the building are not wide, and not well-lit. I don't mean they're scary dark or anything. They're very peaceful, with soft recessed lighting and nice carpets. I mean, this is a condo not a cheap rental apartment. Plus most of the other owners are seniors so, like, it's pretty safe.
So when the elevator opened and a guy got out I was a little taken aback because I couldn't see him very well at all, but he looked like he was taking up like, the whole corridor, practically! I mean, he was tall and very wide! This was a big guy!
And I don't want to be racist, but it turns out the guy was Black, and well, he was harder to see in dim lighting.
He loomed as I took a half step back.
“Quinn?” he said. “I'm John Forbes.”
“Uhm... hi,” I said.
I'm normally pretty good at covering up my reactions. I hoped I was this time, as I backed up and invited him in.
I mean, what else could I do? I couldn't exactly slam the door and go “Eek!”
But I felt like doing it!
John Forbes was freaking big! He was freaking black! And he was... well, let's say his face was broad, with a shaved head, large nose, large mouth and firm jaw. He did not look like a very nice man! On the other hand, his voice was friendly enough, and oddly soft, though deep.
“I understand you're looking to do a bathroom renovation,” he said.
I took a deep breath to steady myself. He was easily a foot taller than me, and probably more than twice my weight. And a lot of that looked like muscle! I mean, he was wearing a t-shirt, and his arms were humongous!
“Uhm, yeah. Come on, and I'll show you,” I said.
The hall led to the right, then turned sharply left. There was a closet on the right, the bathroom on the left, my second bedroom, which was a workshop for me, straight ahead, and then my bedroom, which was really big, on the right.
He looked around as he entered, his eyes flicking here there and everywhere, not, I'm sure, missing the old kitchen.
“This is a nice place,” he said in an admiring voice.
I turned to look at him in surprise, wondering if he was kidding.
“It's got great bones,” he said. “My father used to say that about a place with a good design. He'd say all you need to do is give it some new clothes.”
“Well, yeah, it's a pretty big place for what it cost. And the rooms are bigger than they usually build now.”
“I can see that. That's a huge bedroom,” he said, looking through the open door to mine.
“This is the bathroom. Not so huge,” I said.
He noted the old tub and tiles and the ratty looking counter, not to mention the mirror over it with the ugly, yellowed plastic light cover above that.
“Yep. Can't see a thing in here I'd want to save,” he said.
The room felt really closed in with just the two of us, especially since he was in behind me, totally blocking the door.
“So what are you thinking?” he said.
I was thinking he was a huge black man who could tear my clothes off and strangle me, actually, but figured he didn't want to hear that.
“Let me show you a picture I saved on my computer,” I replied.
So he eased back and I eased past him and then went around the corner to the workshop, calling up the pictures of the bathroom I'd found on the internet. I had it set up and ready so all I had to do was lean over and tap on the keys, then call up that folder.
His eyes watched as I did it and I was aware that he wasn't looking at the screen so much as at me.
“Something like this,” I said.
He shifted his eyes to the screen. “No tub?”
“I never take baths.”
He looked at me and I wondered a bit nervously if he was picturing me naked.
“Most girls like baths.”
“I am not most girls,” I said firmly.
“So okay, here's what I propose,” he said. “We'll focus on the tub first, pull that, tile, put in a glass door, do that quick because you've got no other bathroom. With that done we rip out the floor and wall tiles, then take the whole cabinet out, along with the mirror and light. That won't take long, and I can have a new cabinet and sink in same day. But you can count on being without a shower for at least 72hrs.”
“That's a long time,” I said, frowning.
“After we tile it's gotta dry for at least 24 hours before we grout. Then that's got to dry and cure for about 48 hours before we seal it. No way around that.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “I'll have to borrow showers from friends.”
“Well, I'd offer mine but I don't live that close,” he said with a grin.
I grinned back, though I felt an odd little flutter at the way he looked at me when he said it.
“Then we pull the toilet and re-tile the floor. Should all be done in a week or so.”
“How much?”
“Some of that depends on how much the fixtures and cabinet cost. I can only guesstimate. Unless you want to find them online somewhere and show me the prices. I can just give you a price for labor if you want.”
“I've already found the cabinet, lights and sink at Loews.”
“Okay so just labor.”
He looked at me and I did my best not to show any expression.
See, it's always an issue, dealing with men, especially men who aren't dating material. Now don't get me wrong, there are benefits. I mean, when I need some help with something and go into a store I get it pretty quick. Guys like to be nice to me.
But that's because guys want to see me naked. I'm cute. I don't mean, like, hot, sexy and beautiful, but cute. Very cute. I have big blue eyes and a cute little nose and mouth, really nice hair, and a great body to go with it. Which means guys want me. Well, unless they're gay. Sometimes that's helpful, sometimes it's annoying, and sometimes it's embarrassing.
The idea this big John guy wanted me was frankly kind of scary!
“Maybe we could do a bit of a deal to save you some money,” he said.
“Uh... how?” I asked warily.
Because no, pal, I'm not blowing you to save a few bucks!
That thought, as sarcastic as it was, led to my wondering just how big he was down there. I mean, he was really BIG, so didn't that mean everything was, uh, in proportion?
“You know a lot about computers, huh.”
I blinked in surprise and looked around, then back at him.
“I fix them and upgrade and sell them,” I said.
“So you could give me a PC and probably find the stuff on the hard drive of my crappy old one that disappeared?”
“I can trade you an upgraded PC but if your hard drive is fried there's a strong chance the data on it is gone. I can sure try to find it, though.”
We talked about what he needed the PC for, which included inventory for his supplies, as well as keeping track of his finances and invoicing, and also maybe playing some video games. It didn't seem like he needed a really high end machine, so I got a little excited at how I could do this and save money. I always had more parts and machines than I had buyers, after all.
As we talked he looked at me... respectfully... mostly. But his eyes didn't stay at my face level all the time, especially, I realized, as I moved around and leaned over the tables I'd set up, to show him various machines.
I had deliberately dressed down for meeting a contractor. I mean, I sure as hell hadn't worn a tight dress or tank top or anything, and my hair was in a pony tail. I was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants – a gray sweatshirt and black sweat pants. Not fancy stuff for going to a health club.
Still, I have full breasts, and I finally realized that as I leaned over gravity took charge and kind of pushed them down against the sweatshirt in a noticeable way, especially if you were standing to the side.
I flushed a little at that, and had an instinctive sense of irritation, but on the other hand, I knew any guy was going to look. I'd taught myself some time ago not to take offense at guys just being guys as long as they weren't deliberately being rude. And he wasn't.
I wasn't confident about understanding the vibe I was getting from John. I hadn't dealt with a lot of Black guys, to be honest. There weren't a lot in my suburban school, and almost none had any interest in computers and other 'nerd boy' stuff.
Plus he was about ten years older than me, which was way older than anyone I'd hung around with or dated. In fact, I knew no one his age. All the parents, uncles, aunts, teachers, coaches and other 'adults' I knew were more like my parents age. He wasn't that old and with his football player body didn't seem to belong in that group either.
But it was clear he was appreciating me for more than my IT skills, and that gave me a weird fluttery feeling in my lower belly. I have a great imagination, although it sometimes takes me on weird and wonderful journeys. And I couldn't help imagining what sex would be like with a guy as big as this, as old as him (which meant he probably had a lot of experience) and with a black guy.
And with THIS black guy, who was far from your average black guy. It wasn't just his size, either. His face just looked... scary! But he talked in a perfectly reasonable, intelligent and respectful way. He didn't even have, what I guess you'd call the 'black accent'.
Anyway, we agreed on what we were both going to do, and I set up a schedule. Then, very pleased, I ordered the shower tiles and fixtures from Home Depot. I had already seen these in the store, as well, and just saved up their online locations for when I found a guy and would order them.
Then I got back to work.
The thing about the condo was that it had a heat pump. This was a big boxy thing that stuck through the wall near the door to the balcony. I guess it was considered more efficient back in the days. I don't know. But I can tell you it's not as good as having a regular old furnace and A/C. Or at least, the nearly fifty year old one in my apartment isn't as good.
Which meant that it wasn't always as good at either heating or cooling. And sometimes it didn't dehumidify as well as I'd like. And it performs its job even worse when the windows are open
John had shown up right on time, given me the old computer he had – which was OLD – and then set to work smashing up things in the bathroom. That included yanking the tub out, and knocking all the tiles off the wall in the tub area, then pulling out the existing drywall and replacing it.
This produced a certain amount of dust. We'd talked about that beforehand and I had bought plastic covers to put over the computer stuff. I'd also opened the doors and windows. That made it hot inside, especially where he was working, so I guess that's why he decided to take off his T-shirt.
I was, of course, curious, and looked in on what he was doing fairly often. The first time I saw him without his shirt kind of took my breath away, to be honest. This guy had a six pack that was the most... well defined I'd ever seen in person. He had huge pecs, and his arms were like twice or three times as thick as mine!
He was sweating and there was a thin, glistening sheen to his skin as I did my best not to stare, and I couldn't help feeling this dark carnal... instinctive attraction. I mean, he was strong looking, tough looking... and hot looking!
I left the bathroom shaking my head and trying to keep my mind off nasty gutter images!
Then there was a buzz at the door.
“That's Joe,” he said from the bathroom. “He's gonna help me pull the tub out.”
“Oh, okay.”
I went and unlocked the door, and a minute or so later it opened and another guy came in.
No, the SAME guy came in! Only he was wearing a shirt!
He grinned at me and said “Hey,” then turned to look into the bathroom.
“Hey, man,” John said.
“You ready?” Joseph replied.
“Yeah. Hey, Quinn, can you hold the door for us?” John asked.
“Uhm, sure.”
It was obvious that Joseph didn't just work with him. He was his twin brother! And he was just as big as him!
I edged past and held the door and they carried the old tub out, with Joseph winking at me as they passed out into the hall and saying “Thanks, beautiful.”
Wow, I thought as I let the door close.
They returned before long, and one of them began to lay tiles along the wall where the shower would be while the second one pulled up the tiles from the floor. And both of them were shirtless now. Which made my fantasies, some of them kind of … dark... go into overdrive.
I focused on my own, work, though, which was seeing what, if anything, I could pull up from his old computer. I'd already removed the hard drives and examined them, then plugged them into a computer and brought up some special software.
Mostly when you put data on a hard drive it stays there until you overwrite it or reformat the drive. Even if you delete it it's not really gone. Of course, if the drive is damaged you can lose some or all of that data.
Ordinary computers can't read a damaged drive because it's not properly ordered and there are often lots of gaps where the drive is physically damaged. You need special software for that. I pulled everything I could from the drives, including stuff which had been deliberately deleted at some point.
Then I began to see if any of it was useful, paying particular attention to financial records, which was what he was really concerned about. I did this against the background of the noises they were making, and their voices as they talked to each other.
They were talking blackish, like, you know, with the sort of 'accent' and vernacular you see black people use – even if only on TV or in movies, if you were like me. I thought that was a bit strange since I'd noted John didn't talk that way when he was dealing with me.
I normally wouldn't have looked at the pictures. The thing was that the drive was damaged enough to make the names and extensions unreliable. I wanted to put everything into a proper recovery folder so I just took a quick look.
Most of the pictures were of renovation jobs, stuff a contractor would use to show people his work. I pulled a few dozen of those over into a recovery folder fairly quickly, pleased. Then I clicked on one and froze. I'm sure my jaw dropped and my eyes bulged, but I wasn't really paying attention to myself.
The picture showed John – or Joe – naked, from the side, looking at a black woman, who was also naked, standing before them. Her wrists were held up above her head, so high she was balanced on the balls of her feet! Joe (or John) had his hand between her thighs and whatever he was doing her head was pulled back, her eyes nearly closed, and her back arched.
Holy shit! didn't begin to describe my reaction to that! I think I forgot to breath for long seconds as I gaped at it.
He wasn't erect in the picture. But even so his cock hung down like a long, dangerous looking snake, thick and menacing! I'd seen guys naked, and mostly they looked... ridiculous down there when they were standing up, with their little shriveled-up cock dangling the way it did.
Staring at it, not that I could see it completely clearly from the side, I decided it must have been at least partially hard to be that thick! But it was just hanging there in a way I'd never quite seen.
I heard more noise from the bathroom, like someone was coming out, and felt a sense of panic, quickly closing down the picture as one of them came out.
“Want to have a look,” he asked.
I stared at him, open-mouthed.
“The shower?”
“Oh! Right!”
I jumped up, feeling a lot of adrenaline running wild inside me. I was also blushing hotly, I knew, as I slipped past him to look into the bathroom.
“That looks nice!” I said.
“Yeah, you picked some nice tiles,” the guy inside said.
“They'll look better with better lighting,” the one behind me said as he stood in the doorway.
“Lighting is very important to the mood of a room,” the one in front of me said.
I nodded jerkily, very much aware I was standing in between these two very large, very muscular men! And helplessly recalling what at least one of them (and likely both since they were twins) looked like naked!
“We'll go get the doors now,” one of them said.
“O-Okay,” I said, flushed.
Holy shit!
I went back to my workroom as they left to get the doors from their truck. My face felt hot. I pulled up the picture again and shook my head. Big, hot, muscular and kinky!
I pulled over other pictures, most of them fairly routine, then found another sex one! This was of one of them taking a picture in the mirror while both of them fucked some white girl! Both of them! She was on all fours. The guy taking the picture was behind her, doing her doggy style, while the other one was in front of her while she blew him.
I could see how thick their cocks were and they were THICK! I couldn't see how long they were because, well, the one taking the picture was mostly buried in the girl's pussy while the other one was in her mouth!
Holy fuck!
Fuckity fuck! Fuck!
I was starting to sweat myself!
They returned, and I hurriedly closed the picture and jumped up, running out to help hold the door as they carried a big brown box through, and down the hall. Then I went back to my room, avoiding the rest of the pictures, and focusing on anything else (anything else!).
Wow! I mean... I sort of knew that sort of thing happened. I mean... I have spent a lot of time on the internet, after all, even if I rarely looked for porn. But I'd never run into anyone who did it!
They called me back to the bathroom after a while and I went in, nervous, because, well... you know!
“Oh that looks great!” I said.
“Watch your step,” the one closest to me said.
The floor had been pulled up and there was a lot of stuff and clutter.
“Oh... Let me get my shoes,” I said.
I often went barefoot around the apartment.
“Don't worry about it,” he said.
I felt big hands slipping in under my arms as he said that, and then he lifted me up off the floor as casually as you could imagine, carried me through the mess, and then set me down just on the edge of the new tiles.
“I don't want you standing on them yet,” he said. “The glue will set in the next twenty four hours or so, then we'll grout.
“It uhm... looks... good.”
“Try the door. See how smooth that is,” he said.
I dutifully did that and it was indeed smooth.
Then he picked me up again and carried me back to the hall!

Author Information

Argus is a man with long experience and credits in the publishing world. He has had almost two hundred novels published in the United Kingdom and The United States, by such publishers as Beeline, Star, Nexus, Chimera, Silver Moon, and Olympia. He has also been published in dozens of magazines.


Publisher Information

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