The divorce was sudden. I didn't know all the details but I had suspicions. My mother hated the fact that my dad was always out of town on business. She filled her time by going to the gym, doing private sessions with trainers, and tutoring kids at the local inner-city public high school (I went to private school). She frequently asked me to lie about all of these hobbies to my dad. Specifically, not to tell him that these guys were over our house every day. She told me that my dad was racist and he wouldn't understand.
"Your dad hates black people. He's jealous of them. You have to lie for mommy," I agreed. "We have to help people who are less fortunate than us, because of our white privilege. You're not racist, right baby?"
I liked having a secret with mom. My dad divorced my mom and sold our big beautiful home out from under us. I remember my mom frantically looking online for apartments for us.
"This one is really cheap... But we'd have to share a bedroom."
The apartments she looked at were all on the South Side, in the Black part of town where people like us never went. We toured an apartment one day in a small 20 unit crumbling building. In the courtyard were young black guys with jeans down to their knees, smoking weed out in the open.
"Oh hey baby, you can make friends."
I remember swelling up with embarrassment. These guys were bigger and ripped. I was terrified to talk to them. They eyed my mom hungrily as she bent over to remove the key from the mat, her plump white cheeks popping out of her yoga shorts. I looked at them staring and at least a couple of them grinned and flicked me off. Two guys grabbed their crotches and I saw huge bulges tenting their boxers.
On the drive back to our last night in Suburbia I begged my mom to not move in there. I explained that I was afraid of those guys. I reluctantly told her about them grabbing their dicks.
"Ugh, you sound like your father." My mom grumbled. "You sound jealous. So what if they liked to look at me? Touching their big... remember you're not racist are you baby?"
I shook my head no. "I just... Don't want to be the only white people in the complex. And the way they looked at you..."
"They're just healthy growing boys," my mom chuckled.
Later that night at home I was awoken by voices. I went downstairs to get a glass of milk and I heard my mom moaning through the open door of her bedroom.
"I'm moving into the ghetto, oh my God," she squealed. I heard rhythmic bed squeaking and my mom whimpering. I could tell she was on the phone, on speaker.
"You wanna be in the ghetto you white slut?" A voice boomed from her cellphone.
"I'm going to be surrounded by black men, I want to be a whore for black men." She whimpered and I heard a fast wet squishing noise.
"I'm cumming," my mom gasped. "I'm going to let black thugs fuck my white pussy," she groaned.
"Gonna let the whole ghetto nut in your white pussy?" The strong voice commanded on the phone.
I tried to listen in without creeping any closer. I heard my mom say the words "black baby," urgently, a few times. Followed by loud wet noises and my mom groaning "UNGH!" I realized I was listening to my mom masturbate and my dick got hard involuntarily. I scurried back upstairs and tried to get to sleep. I clutched my hardon in bed for an hour thinking about my mom and I living in the ghetto. I couldn't get to sleep and ended up thinking of my mom with those guys smoking weed in the cumming pretty hard. I didn't want to masturbate to this but I was cumming in 5 seconds before I was even fully hard.
We moved in unceremoniously. A few young black kids from the complex helped us with the larger furniture, since I was too weak. I wasn't thrilled because my mom was wearing a tight white t-shirt (drenched with sweat) through which one could see her big tits and nipples. She also wore a pair of tight yoga shorts that her ass popped out of, and her big white cheeks were fully visible every time she bent over. I noticed that the black kids were staring at my mom's sweaty cameltoe every time she bent over to grab anything. My mom was super thankful and welcoming, of course.
"Do you guys want some beers?" My mom asked, adjusting her t shirt. They accepted and we all sat around in the living room, their jeans down to their knees with their big bulges very visible.
"So baby, I was talking to DeAndre. He's in your year at your new public high school. He said you two could have a play date or a sleepover." He grinned and gulped down his beer.
"My baby boy used to go to the private academy. I think it might be awkward for him because," my mom paused. "Well obviously the public high school is mostly black. I think my son might be bullied, or ostracized because physically he's... Not as big or powerful."
"Oh, like in the gym," DeAndre chuckled. "Yeah, after gym class in the showers... Ain't a good place to be a white boy in our school." The other guys chuckled and nodded in a agreement. My mom took a sip of her drink.
"I think I might know what you mean, but... Could you clarify for us a bit?" My mom slurped her drink loudly and stood up slowly, pulling her shorts up tight in her crotch. "Where I grew up there weren't really many black people. I heard the rumors, of course. My girlfriends who went to public school were always talking about how um... Gifted their black boyfriends were."
Another black kid, Darius, spoke up. "Yeah you got it right. At our school we make fun of the little white kids a lot. I wouldn't want to be white in our school. No girl will fuck with you. Basically you gotta be black to get any pussy."
"Reminds me of you and your first girlfriend, Sarah, baby. Didn't she cheat on you with a black--"
I was beet red with embarrassment. "Mom," I whispered. "I don't like this. I really don't want to go this school."
The boys and my mom all shared a nervous laugh. "Baby, it's okay." She bent over the counter to pour herself another drink. Her plump wet lips were visible through her shorts. "This isn't the academy. This is the real world. You need to get used to it." She sauntered over and set down next to me, with another black teen, Hakeem, on her other side. "Besides. These boys seem nice. You're not going to make fun of my son in the shower, are you?"
They all shook their heads. Darius burst out with "Unless he's really tiny," and they all shared another nervous laugh. My mom took a big gulp of her cocktail.
"Well... What if he is?" She asked softly. Silence. "What is he's... really small?" my mom giggled nervously.
My heart was racing and I just wanted to run away.
One of the kids lit up a joint and passed it to my mom. She took a big rip and handed it back. "I really hope you'll take care of my boy," my mom laid back on the couch and spread her legs a bit, exposing her wet cameltoe. Plump wet lips busting thru her yoga shorts. "He's sheltered. He doesn't understand what it's like to be around black people."
DeAndre killed his beer and burped. "And you do? A pretty little white girl like you?" My mom blushed and laid a hand over her fat cameltoe, her slender middle finger squished between her lips.
My mom blushed and took a sip of her beer. "Uh, yeah. I grew up in South Side Chicago."
DeAndre nodded and chuckled. "Damn, really? You?"
"Yeah, I mean, I was like the only white girl in my grade," my mom giggled as she sucked down her cocktail. "I had a white boyfriend to take home to mom, and a black boyfriend that I fucked. That's why I want you to look after my son. I know what they go through." She took a swig of her drink. "Back then, in Chicago... my son doesn't understand situations like that. Where white girls acknowledge black alphas." My mom burped. She was slurring her words. She got up to grab another drink and sat down next to me. As she spread her legs I swear I could smell her pussy.
"Back in high school I let every black guy use me. Mostly in my car. Even at prom. I took my white boyfriend to the Red Roof Inn, on his parent's credit card--" she giggled and threw her head back laughing. "He watched me fuck about five black basketball players in front of him and then he --" she burped and looked at me and Deon. "I'm sorry, it's gross. I'm sorry Mark."
