"Hey there Boo," Tammy said affectionately in a thick, south Boston accent as she walked down Boylston St, a few blocks from Fenway Park. She slowed to a stop in front of a tall, slender black man in his late twenties. His hair was braided in cornrows under a faded Red Sox cap and his skin was the color of dark chocolate. It was nearly 9pm and the game was in full swing, limiting the crowd on the street as the Sox were in the middle of a 3 game set with the Yankees.
"Oh hey girl," Bobby said with a bright smile. His dazzling straight, white teeth contrasted greatly with his dark skin. He had a warmth in his brown eyes and he leaned back against the outside wall of a bus stop enclave. "Why didn't you ever text me yo?"
"Oh you know," Tammy giggled playfully. She held up her big diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band, "reasons."
"Yea Baby, I get it, but I thought we had a real good time," Bobby replied in his own mix of a Boston accent and his native Jamaican. His body swayed gently to unheard music and he grabbed the pretty brunette's small, pale hands and pulled her a little closer. His touch was gentle but firm and Tammy felt a flutter in her belly. She resisted for a moment and glanced up and down the street before easing closer.
They had met at a club a few weeks earlier when Tammy was out with her girlfriends and they had danced for hours. She had moves equal to his and she'd been drinking for a few hours beforehand so, as usual, she was very flirty with every guy in sight. At the end of the night they had exchanged numbers and Bobby thought she would reach out but she never did.
"What ya doing now?" Bobby asked with a playful grin. He knew that she was into him. She had copped a few feels on the dance floor and she had even kissed him when they were alone in the hallway leading from the bathrooms in the club.
"Nothin," Tammy said with a bit of a pout. "My girlfriends are all at the game and Tim is in Connecticut dealing with family shit. Why?" She flashed him a quizzical grin and pulled back slightly to eliminate the shadow of the brim of his hat from his pretty eyes. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and midway down her back. She had come from work and she was dressed professionally in a knee length black skirt and a somewhat sheer cream colored blouse.
Tammy had a thing for pretty eyes. Guys or girls she loved nice eyes and he had them. They were warm and intelligent and it didn't hurt that he had a nice body too. Her smile widened and her pulse quickened. Her girlfriends had given her a rash of shit when she had given him her number at the club but she had assured them that she was just being nice and true to her word she had never called or text messaged him. She had been tempted in the days that followed. Things at home between she and Tim weren't great but she fought the urge to reach out and it had passed.
"We should hang out," Bobby said with a sexy lilt in his deep voice. His eyes traveled down Tammy's thick, curvy body, pausing at her big natural breasts and again at her full hips before looking into her eyes with a knowing smile.
"Oh yeah?" Tammy said slowly. She cocked her head to the side and grinned. She knew what he wanted and truth be told she wanted it too. Bobby was far from the first black guy she had flirted with. In fact he was much more her type than her husband Tim was. In high school she had dated white boys because that was what was expected of a good white girl from Southie. After high school she had joined the Army where she gave in to her long secret desires and she had dated and hooked up with only black guys. She loved the way their dark skin, stretched tight over hard muscles, looked, especially in contrast with her pale Irish skin. She was Irish and Italian so unlike most of her mom's side she would tan rather than burn but she tended to avoid the sun and as such she was quite pale.
"We could go to a club and dance," Bobby said pulling her body against his. His dick had already begun to swell and he knew she could feel it against her soft tummy.
Tammy's hips began to move instinctively and she felt him brush subtly against her. She had felt him when they had danced weeks earlier and she knew he had a big dick. She had even groped him during their brief kiss and she was more than a little intrigued. Unlike the popular saying, to Tammy size did matter. Her husband Tim was big. He was more thick than long but she loved that stretched full feeling. The black guys she had hooked up with in the Army ran then gamut and in her experience big was better.
