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Raceplay at the white supremacy meeting

raceplayRaceplay at the white supremacy meeting, and this interracial fun was not expected at all. When the guys in the white sheets started walking toward me, I figured they would think I was a white girl with a tan.

 
Boy, did I figure wrong when it came down to racial profiling. People in this day and age would never really be members of a hate gang like the KKK. And if they was members of the most hateful gang in the land, they are probably all talk.
 

Raceplay is alive and well.

 
Well, I was hoping it was all talk. Truth be told, those men seen me and seen cock fucking gold. Before I knew it they had me bent over asking me what I was. “Are you a gook? Rice eater? Towel Head? Punjab bitch?”. The more I told them I was an American national they seemed to get more and more angry.
 
When I told them I had rights, they told me I needed to be knocked down from my high horse. It went from me wearing blue jeans and a long top, to me wearing pieces of lingerie as they tore them off. The more sounds I made, the more they smiled. Not all of the white guys were ugly either. Some looked like guys who are hipsters and might live next door.
 
One man told me he was a wizard, and promised he would protect me. As long as we could have unprotected interracial sex. Yes, I believed him, at this point of the raceplay fantasy I was willing to believe any and everything. No matter what each guy promised while they raped me, none of it happened. It has been a few weeks since that long night. Needless to say I left the school paper and my boyfriend. Now only hateful white raceplay can get me off. And I have a bun in the oven, superior cum I guess or I am raceplay hot.

 

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