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The Real Housewives of McKinney, Part 4

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The Real Housewives of McKinney have real stories to tell . . .

Real names have been changed to protect the guilty

I was asked a while back to write about the housewives of McKinney, Texas, an upscale bedroom community north of Dallas. I declined to write about the ladies, my close friends, out of fear that I might be discovered. I was assured that if I didn’t give their true names, no one would know. Still. I was hesitant to write anything because, you know, ladies talk.

Then one of our group members decided she would start chronicling our discussions, so to beat her to the punch, I decided I’d write down our stories, often retold with great excitement every Monday when we meet at a local Starbucks.

There are five of us, Jane, Roxanne, Emily, Joanne and me, who shall remain nameless, for now. We all met on-line in a social media group and over a period of several months, we had many great discussions, so someone suggested we meet up in person. When we got together, it was as though we were all, already, good friends, having chatted and posting notes to one another in a social media chat, for several months. We knew the names of each other’s husbands, and their quirks, and the names of our kids and the schools they attended.


Emily was the fiery redheaded, sweet dispositioned McKinney housewife that had a secret passion for orgies and not just any type of orgies, but orgies with black dudes. She worked as an athletic trainer for the local community college.

She picked me up on a Saturday evening. Rick, my husband of ten years, asked me where Emily and I were going, and I told him that we had a hot date to attend. I was being completely honest, having dressed up in a short mini-skirt, sans underwear and a tight fitting, button down shirt, with a push up bra underneath, to accentuate my bustline. Rick laughed.

“Horney housewives on the prowl,” he jokingly commented.

“Yes, we are,” I said. Rick turned his attention back to the football game on the TV.

“Don’t wait up on me,” I said. “We’ll be in late.”

Rick simply waved his hand in the air without saying anything else, his way of dismissing me.

Emily drove us to an house on the far side of the city. I could tell there was a party going on by the number of cars all along the side of the road leading up to the house. As soon as we stepped out of the car, I could hear the loud thumping of the base of the music coming from the house. I looked at Emily ad asked if she was sure that we were at the right place. She assured me we were in the right place.

As we walked up to the house, several black guys wolf-whistled at us. Emily asked for a “Derrick”. Within seconds a very young black college athlete approached us, a guy about six foot four and weighing a little over two hundred, I would guess. He had short cropped hair and wore an athletic type of a muscle-man sleeveless shirt and some athletic pants.

“Hi,” he said as he approached us. “I’m Derrick.”

Emily introduced herself and then me.

"Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.

Emily asked for a Bud Light and asked for one for me as well. The air was heavy with the smell of weed. There were a couple of black chicks paired off with some athletes in the living room, sitting on the couch. Derrick offered to show us the house, so off to the back of the house we went. It had three bedrooms, two with mattresses on the floor and then there was a canopied bed in the master-bedroom with mirrors on the ceiling.

As soon as we entered the master bedroom, I felt a hand slip up under my mini-skirt and grab a cheek of my ass. I quickly turned around and came face to face with a large black dude who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Damn,” he exclaimed, “White meat! I love white meat!”

My legs quivered and suddenly I felt very flushed, but not with fear, but with anxiousness. The guy loomed over me, but not in a threatening manner.

“Damn,” he said, looking at Derrick. “Dude, you been holdin’ out on me.”

Derrick laughed and introduced us to Erick, one of his friends and a fellow athlete.

“Eric plays middle-line backer on defense,” Derrick said, stepping over to the canopied bed and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Emily stepped between Eric and me, and asked Eric if he was there to party. He took a step back and silently sized Emily up, from head to toe and then back again.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘party’?” Eric replied.

Emily proffered a wink. She told Eric, “We are here for the orgy. Why are you here?”

Eric looked over at Drerrick.


Derrick smiled and said, “Yeah, one hundred bucks a fuck.”

Wait a second. Did he say a hundred bucks a fuck? I looked at Emily, who promptly grabbed me by my arm and ushered me out of the room.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“Hush!” Emily shot back, “We get half, so just shut the fuck up and go with it.”

I was astonished. I had been pimped out.

“Shut up,” Emily whispered, “or we will be lucky to get out of here alive and in one piece. Besides, I’m still negotiating.”

The thought of being tricked out as a whore bothered. I had standards.

“Fuck your standards,” Emily replied. “We talking about free booze, free weed, getting fucked and having a good time AND getting paid.”

Emily opened her clutch purse and showed me a wad of cash.

“I already have fifteen hundred dollars,” she whispered, “so don’t fuck this up.”

As we chatted in the hallway, Eric stealthily snuck up behind us. Once, again his probing hand found its way up under my mini-skirt and to my buttocks. This time he wrapped his second around my waist and pulled me in against himself. He slipped a finger directly into my pussy.

“Oh baby!” he extolled, wiggling his finger back and forth inside of me. “Let me get you ready.”

Emily pulled at Eric’s arm, yanking it out from under my skirt.

“Pay up,” Emily demanded. “Nothing is free here.”

Eric laughed.

“Babe,” said Eric, “You’re next.”

“Pull it out,” Emily replied, “Let’s see that big ole black dick.”

Eric leaned against the wall and unfastened his pants, allowing them to fall to the floor. He pulled down his boxer shorts, revealing a half-limp, half-hard uncircumcised cock. Emily dropped to her knees and took his cock in her hands and started massaging it I to a full-blown erection, as I stood beside her in horror. Eric placed his hand on top of Emily’s head as she inserted his cock into her mouth. She worked his tool in and out of her mouth and then started rapidly jerking on it. White stuff flew out to the tip end of Eric’s massive cock. Emily leaned to the side as a rope of cum landing about a foot from where it had originated. Emily stood up and demanded one hundred dollars. She still had hold of Eric’s cock and when he questioned the expense, she squeezed his cock tightly in her hand. Eric quickly forked over two fifty-dollar bills.

“If you want to fuck,” Emily said, “Bring another one fifty and we’ll talk.”

“But I just paid you one hundred,” Eric argued. Emily wasn’t letting go. She gave Eric’s tool another very tight squeeze and Eric quickly gave in.

I turned to see a crowd gathering in the master-bedroom, chit chatting with Derrick, who had now moved from his position on the side of the bed. Emily took me by the hand, and together, we entered back into the bedroom.

Someone turned up a boom box and Emily started dancing, pulling me in close to gyrate her hips against mine. She then turned and bent completely over in front of me, her hands on her knees, grinding her buttock against my crotch. I placed my hands on her hips to help steady her. After a quick crotch thrust, she turned and grabbed my face in her hands and then she pressed her lips to mine, as the crowd around us erupted in cheers and cat calls. At first, I didn’t know what to make of her very overtly sexual moves, but then I came to realize this was part of the show, part of the set-up, so I simply gave in and went with it. We both ended up completely naked and sixty-nineing each other on the bedroom floor, as a crowd of about ten to fifteen guys looked on, egging us on.

The next thing I knew, there was a line of guys, with their cocks out, begging for blow jobs, cash in hand. I lost count of the blow jobs, which were nothing more than an enhanced hand job, as there was no way I was going to let a guy cum in my mouth.

Derrick sat back on the side of the bed taking, collecting the cash deposits. The crowd started then after each guy was serviced, although a few of the guys hung around, I suspect to see what was going to happen next.

Derrick tossed all the cash out on to the bed. I had no idea how much there was, but it was a lot of money, I am sure. I climbed on to the bed and rolled around on top of the money, some of which stuck to me as I rolled around. Derrick laughed at my rolling around on the bed.

I asked him if he wanted a blow job and I told him that I’d make an exception to my swallowing policy, just for him. Emily was busy serving two guys in chairs off in a corner. Derrick stripped out of his pants and his muscle-man shirtless top. Oh my God! He had the most athletic body ever, with a ribbed abdomen and pecs that would move all by themselves. I patted an empty spot on the side of the bed. He climbed on to the mattress beside me, his huge massive schlong hanging down. I slipped his tool into my mouth and began working on it. He then slipped a lone finger into my pussy and began fingering me, which simply drove me nuts. I couldn’t finish the blow job.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded.

Derrick hovered over me as I lay on my back, spreading my legs to welcome his advances. He slipped his massive tool into my slit and I practically passed out. Oh my God! He filled me up and then some. He rocked back and forth, his massive cock pulsating inside of me. I could feel the warmth of his cum filling my pussy. I began to shiver and shake uncontrollably, as a massive orgasm rolled through me. He pressed his lips to mine and thrust his tongue deep inside my mouth, robbing me of my breath. Oh my Gawd! I was losing it and losing it fast.

I passed out and when I woke up, some other dude, and not Derrick, had his dick plunged deep into my pussy. I shook and shivered again, then passed out a second time. This happened over and over, several times, until I committed myself to seeing through each fuck. I think I fucked about nine or ten guys that night, one right after the other. Emily swears she fucked just as many and maybe more. We only stopped because the cops showed up.

As we sat in the car, at a nearby WhatABugrer, trying to wrap out heads around what had transpired, I asked Emily what happened to her idea about filming things.

“That idea went out the door when I gave that Eric dude a blow job,” said Emily.

We counted up the cash that we had stuffed into Emily’s small purse and my small purse. All total, we walked out of the party with five thousand, three hundred fifty-three dollars. Someone actually provided tips in one-dollar bills, like fifty-three of them.

I called Rick and told him Emily and I had gotten drunk and that we were going to get a hotel room. He sounded a little disappointed but was happy we had made the decision to get a hotel room rather than drive drunk.

The hotel only had king-sized beds left. I told Emily I had no problem sleeping with her as long as she tried to show a little self-restraint, which of course was like trying to put spilled milk back into the jug after it spills.

I wasn’t a lesbian. I wasn’t even bi, but after that night I had to take new stock in how I related to women, especially the women in our McKinney Housewives group.




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