A Bull Dominates His Prey
By Leah Jenkins
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About this ebook
If you're going to complain when you read about a pretty white wife, on her knees, in front of a black man this really isn't the book for you.
Keep scrolling, find a different book, and don't spend another second thinking about it. Or you might just realize this is why so many white wives end up in this position.
Listen, I'm not a bad guy, but I've got my needs. And I needed to have my old college roommate's wife on her knees, surrendering to me completely as he watched.
This is how a bull dominates his prey.
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Book preview
A Bull Dominates His Prey - Leah Jenkins
A Bull Dominates His Prey
The Surrender of A Submissive White Couple
Leah Jenkins
Copyright © 2024 Leah Jenkins
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 1
Looking back now, it feels like everything was leading up to that moment. A string of seemingly insignificant moments - hazy conversations over drinks, unspoken emotions pulsing beneath the surface - all coming together in a culmination of desire. And when it finally happened - when Sarah's lips brushed against the shaft of my cock while Paul watched, mouth open in awe from the nearby chair - I felt a sudden and intense realization: all of our years together had been building towards this precise instant. Every word shared, every touch exchanged, had been laying the groundwork for this explosive moment of pleasure and connection.
We first crossed paths in college, Paul and I. He was a familiar face, though we were hardly what one would call friends - just two names jotted down on the same housing assignment by some complex computer algorithm in the depths of ResEd's system. His presence was always marked by an aura of pale, professorial superiority - his over-educated intellect seemingly guiding every move and thought he had. The music that poured through his earbuds, the beer he sipped at night, the books that lined his shelves, and even the movies he watched - everything about him seemed to exude refinement and sophistication. It was clear that Paul held himself above the common masses, sneering at any mention of a mass-produced beer or popular blockbuster film. To him, these were lowbrow indulgences reserved for lesser individuals. Needless to say, I found him rather insufferable.
Sarah lived just down the hall from the suite Paul and I shared, her name written in delicate cursive on the door. She was a striking figure, with sleek blonde hair styled in a short, edgy cut that framed her face perfectly. Her body was toned and fit, her curves accentuated by her choice of clothing - always stylish yet subtly sexy. But it was her smile that truly captivated me, warm and genuine, with eyes that sparkled like sapphires and held a playful glint in their depths. As I got to know Sarah through our shared class during freshman year, I couldn't help but admire her beauty and charm. Like many other guys in our dorm, I found myself unable to resist stealing glances at her tempting pear-shaped hips and shapely backside. Though she may have been self-conscious about her smaller breasts, she carried them with confidence and grace, making them seem like the most desirable assets in the world. Despite my efforts to make my long-distance relationship with my high school girlfriend work, I couldn't deny the attraction I felt for Sarah. We became friends, and as we spent more time together, I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more between us. While she could be serious and intellectual at times, it only added to her allure in my eyes. And I couldn't help but sense that she felt a similar spark between us as well.
As the final embers of my high-school relationship flickered out, I watched with a mix of sadness and bitterness as Paul swooped in and asked Sarah out. Over the next few years, their relationship seemed to amplify each other's most irritating tendencies towards self-righteousness and occasional arrogance. Despite this, I couldn't bring myself to cut them out of my life completely; our shared experiences as first-year college students and a circle of mutual friends kept us connected in a casual and comfortable way. Slowly but surely, I grew accustomed to their sometimes grating quirks. And when I stood before them at their wedding, offering sincere wishes for their future together, there was a part of me that couldn't help but wonder what could have been if Sarah had chosen differently.
Since our days in college, I maintained a superficial connection with my friends through exchanging holiday cards and the occasional email. But every time we gathered for drinks, Sarah's actions seemed to reinforce a secret desire she held for me. It was subtle yet unmistakable - the playful glint in her eye when someone cracked a joke, the gentle brush of her hand against my arm as she passed by in the kitchen, the lingering touch of her soft fingers on mine when I handed her my phone. These moments would fuel my imagination, and I often found myself stroking myself to sleep at night, picturing Sarah's lips around my cock or my tongue exploring her moist folds. Her womanly curves and enticing rear end haunted my dreams. Despite having had numerous girlfriends over the years, it was the married and unattainable Sarah who consumed my fantasies and left me with a physical ache of longing.
Not only did Sarah's flirtatious behavior fuel my desire, but also the candid discussions about sex and sexual politics with her and Paul. While I mostly agreed with their viewpoints, there were times when I found them a bit extreme. One evening at dinner, Paul confidently declared that he and Sarah had concluded that most common sexual acts were inherently misogynistic. Although I couldn't hide my quizzical expression, I noticed Sarah briefly brush her leg against mine under the table, which seemed to contradict Paul's statement. Perhaps I was mistaken, but it definitely sparked some curiosity in