For weeks she thought she had imagined it. Maybe it was just a dream.
But then she started to feel as though she was being followed. And there were times when she'd almost swear she could smell him. That was when she decided that maybe, maybe he just needed to be provoked.
And so every night, she lie in bed, and touched herself to the thought of him. She would lie there on top of the sheets, pinching her nipples, biting her lip. Her index and middle finger playing in the folds of her sopping nether-parts. She knew he was watching. She just.. knew.
One night, as her climax neared and her back started to arch, a hand covered her scream, and she had her wish. She had been so caught up in her pleasure she didn't see him walk right in from the bedroom door. "Do not cum."
Immediately, her hand was removed, and she turned to face him. She could really make him out now, his face glowing in the moon light. It frightened her to know that this man, who had given her the greatest gift she'd ever received, was a white man.
All her life, she knew that interracial relations were unacceptable. Raised by her emotionally scarred mother, she thought nothing good could ever come of falling in love with a white man. But, here she was.. Certainly not feeling any disdain. In fact, she wondered if *love* was the correct word to use.. Did it describe the way she felt about him? This sick infatuation that held her from eating and sleeping? That kept her from wanting any man but him? Even now, staring into his dark eyes, she wanted nothing more than to give herself to him. Completely. What ever he made her feel, race could not change it. In fact, it seemed almost taboo- and she liked that too.
He must have seen her aching devotion in her eyes, and kissed her full on. He pulled her up onto her knees, the passion becoming too much for her to bare. And as the kiss grew deeper, his hand grasped and pulled and her hair, tugging her head back. He wanted to take her all in. He pulled his head back and watched in amazement as she tried to recover the lost connection.
His other hand drifted down from her precious little neck, to the swell of her full breasts. Her nipples, like tiny little daggers- so hard and eager. He continued his way all the way down to her belly button, and pausing on her slight bulge of a tummy. And then, past her hairless mound and found her clit. The heat of her was enough- his cock was pulsating, trying to break free of the barrier his pants provided between them.