People told me it would never work, but then people say a lot of things, don't they?
These days a mixed marriage elicits very little response from others; people are more tolerant, more carefree, I guess just more apathetic. But thirty odd years ago things were very different.
Since Corina and I grew up together in the same small town, neither of us had any concern for the colour of the other's skin - she was black, I was white. That was all we knew and all we cared about. But, unfortunately, our liberal views were not shared by the whole town.
We matured and I began to see Corina as more than just a childhood playmate. Her lithe, black body as it undulated under the loose fitting tops and skirts that she would wear had me experiencing sensations that I had never previously felt. Corina's feelings towards me were also changing; the way that she looked at me with her sexy, crooked smile and the way that she would brush up against me or touch my hand or arm sensuously during a conversation made me realise that she was experiencing the same feelings of young lust that I was.
Whispers were rife all over town - a white man and a black woman getting together? It was practically unheard of and we were looked upon with distrust and uncertainty by a lot of the townsfolk.
But Corina and I didn't concern ourselves with what others thought. We kept ourselves private and in a world known only to us. Long, meandering walks out into the countryside became our favourite pastimes. The clear, blue sky, the sounds of wildlife all around us, the rich, fragrant scent of the pine forests and the joy of being together - we felt we had it all!
I never even asked her to marry me; it was something that we both just expected to happen - as if some unspoken telepathy existed between us. The ceremony was small and informal. We knew that many of our neighbours were not impressed by our mixed creed relationship, but what did we need them for anyway, we had each other.
But feelings surrounding our marriage were intensifying. It seemed that Corina and I had underestimated the attitude of the townsfolk towards us and we were about to discover exactly how strongly some of them felt.
We had moved into a small house on the outskirts of town. The land surrounding us gave us good crops of fruit and vegetables that supplemented the meagre rations that my work as a furniture maker was able to provide. We had few luxuries but were happy spending our evenings sitting on the porch, watching the stars and planning our future.
Our sex life was wonderful. Apart from a little touching and fondling before we married, we had virtually saved ourselves. But now we were free to enjoy the fruit that we had for so long forbidden each other. And enjoy we did. I discovered that Corina was extremely sexual. She would use her body while we made love, twisting and turning her slender frame to maximise the pleasure for both of us. There seemed little that she wouldn't try and I remember the exquisite sensations that I experienced when she took my dick into her pretty mouth for the first time.
We were sitting out on the porch as usual that evening. The air was cool and fragrant and we cuddled up as we watched the sun go down and the stars begin to pin-prick the darkening sky. The sound of the vehicle seemed a long was off and I gave it little thought as I buried my face in my wife's thick black hair and let my fingers wander over the dark, smooth skin of her thigh below the hem of her loose dress.
"I think that car's getting closer, baby." Corina said with a giggle as I tickled the inside of her thigh. "Maybe you better stop that before you go too far. We might be getting visitors!"
"You really want me to stop?" I whispered into her ear.
Corina giggled again and shook her head. I could feel her legs falling open slightly and I knew that she wanted me as much as I did her. But the sound of the approaching car was becoming more distinct and, try as I might, I found it impossible to concentrate on what I was doing.
"Shit, I think you're right," I said, a little angry at the interruption. "Who the hell could this be?"
There were three of them in the car as it pulled up in front of our house. I didn't recognise the men at all and guessed that they were from our neighbouring town eight miles away. As two of them alighted from the vehicle, the third stayed behind the wheel. All three men looked drunk and my previous feeling of contentment quickly melted away and was replaced by one of worried apprehension.
"Get in the house." I told Corina as I waited for the two men to approach me, "I don't like the look of this."
"Ah! Don't send the whore away!" slurred the first, larger lad as he sidled his way up to me, "she may be black but she gotta be better to look at than this shit-hole of a house you live in! What's wrong with you? You too much of a faggot to get yourself a white woman?"
The anger welled up inside me like a great tidal wave of hate. I looked around quickly for any type of a weapon I could find, but it was too late. The baseball bat seemed to come out of nowhere. I saw it coming and pulled back - a reflex action - but not back far enough. The hard wood caught me on my side knocking the wind out of my lungs and I saw the moon and stars swirl in a sickening kaleidoscope of colour as my legs gave way and I hit the floor.
My eyes opened blearily. I could feel dirt sticking to the side of my face. I tried to focus; figure out what had happened. Corina was sitting on the sofa opposite me. She looked sad. I tried to move towards her but quickly realised that I was tied, very securely, to a chair and gagged with tape. There was no way I was going anywhere.
