Author: Emilia Steele
WhatWhat: Jeff takes his wife to “audition” as a dancer for a rap video, and gets to watch her be fucked by the rapper. By the end she’s being used by Marcus’ whole entourage, and apparently happy with this.
She sways her curvy body to the hypnotic base, while King watches approvingly, lewdly licking his dark, full lips. (loc 32)
Countdown until someone gets called “chocolate.”
Marcus King is our favorite hip-hop artist. His catchy booty-poppin’ anthems are a guilty pleasure of ours. None of our friends have any idea that we, a highly educated, middle-class white couple in our late twenties secretly love blasting his records while driving. They’d probably be aghast that we’d associate ourselves with such a hoodlum. (loc 58)
So this is set in an alternate universe where the fifties never ended and people give a flying fuck what music you listen to in the car?
A louder and stronger voice, the primal side of me, wants that to happen. I want to see my wife surrender herself to this big black brute, to lose herself in ecstasy, to easily and without question obey his every command. (loc 171)
Bad news, Jeff: your primal side is a racist, and should go fuck itself.
She lost count as they used her like a cumdumpster, coating her from head to toe in black semen. (loc 480)
The word black is thrown around a LOT in this story (black hand, black giant, etc. etc.), but “black semen” has to be the weirdest use.
Verdict: Holy Fuck, this was an uncomfortable read. I mean, this is incredibly upfront about its Weird Race Shit, and I don’t want to kinkshame anyone, but…Holy Fuck. I’m a little amazed that this is anyone’s kink.
I went into this expecting hotwife or cuckolding shenanigans (based on the subtitle). Looking back now at the Amazon blurb, I should have known what I was actually getting:
See? In retrospect it’s perfectly clear what that’s supposed to be signalling. Lesson learned: if someone is described as black twice within a two-sentence summary, there’s going to be weird race stuff.