NOTE - I am NOT a professional writer so I would appreciate a little kindness and understanding for grammatical errors one might find in my story. I tried to catch all of my spelling errors but I may have missed some.
This story is a 100% true story and if you choose not to believe it, that's your business. This story is not meant to put anyone down or say that any particular race of people are better or worse than others or prone to certain lifestyles.
And, if interracial sex turns you off, then don't read it and don't leave negative feedback because you don't like blacks and whites being together.
Ever since I can remember, I have been attracted to black American women. Beats me why. Even as a child, I had a little black girlfriend whose mother cooked at a diner in downtown Tulsa where I was raised. Dang that cook had some big titties! I can still see those bullets slathered with grease and swinging as she walked by my counter stool. My father and I ate there on occasions and the cook's 5 year old daughter was always there, playing behind the counter or out back of the diner. I was also 5 when we first started eating there and remember sharing my bottle of Sun Crest orange soda pop with her one time.
As I grew older, my interest in black women increased. I was in serious heat over Diane Carroll and never missed her TV show Julia when it was on. The same was true with Peggy Fisher, the secretary on Mannix. But no one got me going like Lt. Uhuru did on Star Trek!
As a teenager with screaming hormones, I was anxious to have sex with any girl or woman I could talk into it. I was working at the airport on the evening shift while I was in high school with a slender black woman named Shirley. I was 16 and she was in her mid 30's at the time. I flirted with her unmercifully and tried to get her to meet me after work for "some fun". I never did get to fuck her, but she did let me kiss her a few times and I discovered the sweet, soft taste of a black woman's lips and from that moment on I was lost.
In November 1974, I joined the Marine Corps and was stationed in California. I had Playboy pin-ups of black 1965 Playmate Jennifer Jackson and about a year later after becoming a Marine, 1975 Playmate Azizi Johari. I remember my barracks mates asking me why I liked black girls so much and when I'd show them the two pin-ups in my locker, they understood perfectly. Oh, I still went out with white girls as very, very few black girls would date white boys back in the mid-70's. Even though the 1960's era of "Free Love" was still to be found, especially in California at that time, it was still taboo to be with black women just like black guys dating white women was strictly verboten! The only place I could really participate in my desire for interracial sex, whether it was black men/white women or white men/black women, was at the many porno shops that could be found in Southern California in the mid-1970's. And let me tell you, there were plenty of them!
In August 1977, I was sent to the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training School at Pickle Meadows, California, up in the Sierra Madres. Northern California was absolutely beautiful there and I loved the area. A couple of Navy Corpsman I was buddies with had also been sent to the school with me and they had purchased a 1968 Chevrolet Impala for $100.00 so we all could have transportation to go do things during our off duty time. On our first weekend there, my two buddies and I, along with a another Marine, took off on Friday evening for parts unknown. We had an 8 Track tape of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band and an ice chest filled with beer. Our mission: to find the infamous Kit-Kat Ranch and professionally have our ashes hauled before we had to return to duty at 0500 hours the following Monday morning. We also did some sight-seeing along the way taking trips over to Carson City, Nevada, Lake Tahoe and other spots that I have no forgot. The songs were playing loud and the beer was flowing.
The Kit-Kat Ranch, quite simply, was a Nevada whorehouse. It was about 10 miles outside of Carson City. On Saturday evening we stopped for a bite to eat in Carson City and one of my friends, Mike was his name, asked an older gentleman we saw on the street, "Say old Dude! Where can we get some pussy?" The man looked at him and laughed and said "Why you damn fool! You just need to go out of town a few miles to the Kit-Kat Ranch and you can get all the pussy you want, as long as you got the money!" We had no idea we were that close to the Ranch so we got directions from the old gentleman, ate a burger (no onions of course) and was on our way.
Within minutes, we pulled into the dirt and rock parking area of the Kit-Kat Ranch. At that time, it was several inter-connecting trailers with a large chain link fence around it and, if I remember right, barbed wire around the top. The fence entrance was electronically opened from the inside. We got out of our old beater car and went to the gate and pressed the button. A woman's voice came over an intercom and asked us what we wanted. And Mike, as he was a wee bit intoxicated, told her we were Marines (we considered our Navy Corpsmen as being Marines as well) on liberty and had "driven over to visit her fine reputable establishment for an evening of entertainment and frivolity". Mike was always able to come up with something funny to say. The woman laughed and the next thing we new the gate had been buzzed open and we were walking into the compound and up to the front door of the "Ranch".
The woman who buzzed us in met us at the door and introduced herself as the house madam. She escorted us into a living room or reception area that looked like something right out of a paperback fuck book; mirrors on the walls, red sofas, gold accents around, etc...just what I thought a Nevada whorehouse was suppose to look like!
There was two business suited white guys there as well with a couple of young ladies serving them drinks. After the madam seated us, she clapped her hands and shouted, "Company's here girls!", and out from the back came about 15 beautiful young women in various styles of lingerie. All were white except for two who were black. After they all got in a line in front of us, they each began introducing themselves from left to right. The madam asked us who we would like to visit with and Mike jumped up and pointed to a girl and said "She'll do". Oh, he was so eloquent - not!
My two Navy buddies picked the girls they wanted and off everyone went leaving me with the remainder of the harem to pick from. All of them were quite attractive but soon my attention was drawn to the two black girls. One of them, Diana, was darker and reminded me a great deal of the Playmate whose pin-up hung in my locker, Azizi Johari. I asked her if she would mind being my date for the evening and offered her my hand. She giggled very sweetly and accepted my offer and commented I sounded like a Southern Gentleman as we walked around the corner. As she escorted me, we made small talk and she asked where I was from. I told her Tulsa, Oklahoma and she stopped and said that she too, was from Oklahoma and had been born in Chickasaw (over west of Oklahoma City). Here I was, in a whorehouse in Nevada, and I pick a sister Okie. What were the odds?
As we entered her bedroom, she said that she was enjoying our talk but it was time to get down to business and wanted to know what I wanted. I then told her of my desires to make love to a beautiful black woman and of the fact I had not been able to accomplish this on my own. While I was not a virgin (I had no problem scoring with white girls and women), I had never been sexually fulfilled as my desire was to be with a black woman.
Diana began telling me that if I wanted to watch porn movies (on a Super 8 projector - remember, this was 1977), it would cost this much. If I wanted to use her toys, it would cost that much, it I wanted a blow job to completion it would be this much more, etc, etc. I told her all of that would be nice and maybe some other time, but my interest was to just make love.
