My friend Sherri's visit from Nashville had ended, and she returned home, knowing that she would always prefer Black lovers, both male and female. She had learned what I had known for some time, that they are better at getting things done in bed than anyone else.
I spent the week thinking about all the fucking that had been done, by me, to me, and knew that I was in a good place in my life. I wasn't in a committed relationship with a spouse, leaving me free to do what I chose to do, yet knew that if it was sex that I wanted, that I had about the best there is available to me. I had gone after black cock, and found that I liked being fucked, liked satisfying a man more than fucking a woman. I love pussy, but given the choice, I would get on my back, spread my legs and take a ride under a strong, pipe laying, black man with a big tool.
Of the several black guys that I was available to please, Marcus had taken me as his, using my ass to get himself off, and pounding me properly in doing it. He wasn't the lover type, but he sure could put the meat to the hole. When he claimed me as his, I had no good reason to deny that. He let me get under other men, but he made me understand that the others would be fucking his possession, and while they might have had their way with me, even bringing me pleasure, I was always thinking about how he fucked me, and how he brought me the variety that came with being Mandingo ass.
He called me on Tuesday morning and I asked if he was coming over after work. He told me that he was leaving for Texas for a few days but that he needed something from me. He said that his nephew would be in town tomorrow, from Savannah, and that he wanted me to put him up at my place and to "take care of him". He added that Lamar was 37 years old, single, and horny, and a gay top that preferred older guys.
I said to him: "Baby, he can come here, and I will take care of him, but this ass is yours. I am not going to give it to him. If he wants it he will have to take it, and if he does, I will tell him that it is yours and that he had better use it right."
Marcus laughed, saying: "I will tell him that you are not some street slut, and that you won't be giving it up to him. He will let you know what he wants and you can work it all out. Just put a smile on his face. He really likes to date and seduce, and you love that shit."
Wednesday afternoon, Lamar called. He sounded really nice, asking if I would be interested in meeting him for a drink somewhere. After telling him that Marcus had said that he would be over this way, I suggested the lounge in the local Marriott, and that he could pick me up at my place.
I gave him directions, and we agreed to him being here at 4PM. He said that he would come to my door.
I cleaned myself up and out, and decided that since he was gay that I would look as cute as possible for him. I put on nice panties, and some quite short shorts, nearly Daisy Dukes, and a size small t shirt that showed my growing breasts. I had shaved and I brushed out my very long, prematurely white hair, and thought that I looked quite femme.
Right at 4 PM, I heard my doorbell. Opening it, I was taken aback by his height, build and looks. He was a HUNK!
I sort of stammered as I greeted him, stepping outside and closing the door. He took my hand and said: "Baby, uncle Marcus said that you were good looking, he didn't say that you were this pretty. I love your hair."
I replied, smiling: "Thank you, Lamar, you look good yourself."
I am not short, being just under 6 ft tall, but he towered over me, and must have been near 6 ft 10 inches. He was built solid, looking very athletic. His hand was so big that mine looked very small in his. I was going on a date with this guy? Wow, was all that I could think.
His Expedition was as impressive as he was, with rims and bands, and an interior that was all leather. I directed him to the Marriott, fastened my seat belt and settled back for the ride.
Wanting to share my pleasure with him, I said: "Lamar, this is a first for me, and I am liking it already."
He asked what was new, causing me to say: "Hon, I have had some great sex, but this is the first time I have ever been on an actual date. It feels good."
He laughed, and said: "How long have you been gay?"
Replying, I said: "I don't know that I am gay, as I love pussy, and love to be out with women, but a few years ago had a spontaneous thing with a black guy that showed me what was the best sex I ever had. Then recently, I met another black guy, married, that re-affirmed that for me. Through him I met your uncle, and now I know that if I am with a male that I want him to be black."
He said: "What is it that you love about being with a black guy?"
I put my hand on his knee, and replied: "There are so many things. Mostly, it is because when a black guy gets in bed, he does it to leave both himself and his partner totally satisfied. I like that most blacks are well endowed, and there is that "forbidden fruit" thing of being white and with a black person. But most of all, because a black man is stronger minded than the white guys that I have seen. As a swinger, my women partners have said pretty much the same thing. One said it best when she told me that if she can walk well the next morning that she wasn't fucked by a black guy. Why do you want to be with an older guy who is white, babe?"
Laying his hand on mine, (which was still on his knee), Lamar said: "Older? I don't do drama, and those young guys are too full of it. They confuse a good fuck with love, and want to get all possessive on me. White guy? Well, I guess that is because of that "forbidden fruit" thing that you mentioned. That, and seeing the difference in color is very erotic."
Pulling my hand to his crotch, he continued: "See what you are doing to me?"
He was hard and also huge. As he put his hand back on the wheel to make a corner, I pulled mine away from his crotch.
As we pulled into the Marriott, and found a parking space across from the lounge door, he pulled me to him, kissing me. His kiss was both sincere and really sensual, with his tongue working on my lips. As horny as I was for him, I wasn't ready to have him see that I wanted to fuck just yet. I wanted the date to continue. I kept my lips closed tight, promising myself that I would have his tongue in my mouth later for sure.
Going into the lounge, we sat at the bar, where we would be closer than sitting across from each other at a booth or table. As we enjoyed our drinks, we made small talk, describing our lives, learning more about each other.
Lamar asked if I liked being a sissy to a black man, and I replied: "Baby, I don't feel that I am the sissy at all, femme perhaps, but not a sissy. I want a man to enjoy me like he would enjoy a woman. I think that a sissy type would just want to be had by his man, to be used. I want my man to show me what he wants from me, and the chance to show him what I feel as he seduces me. Yes, I love to be on my back with my ankles on a guy's shoulders being fucked like there is no tomorrow, but also like to be made out with, seduced, even made love to. Being bi-sexual, I have noticed how women, no matter how horny they are for cock, love to be felt up, kissed, fondled, as they make out."
He smiled and said: "Unc was right, you are different than most, not just a fuck slut, but a lover too. I want to lay you down, fully dressed, and see just what makes you tick. Let's go to your place and continue this date. I want you and your skinny body."
We finished our drinks, paid and went to his car. After he started it, he held my face and pulled me to him for another kiss. This time I let him get his tongue a little into my mouth, but kept him from pushing it deeper.
