tagInterracial LoveOwned by a Black Woman

Owned by a Black Woman

bycantbuymy©

People -- [text in brackets indicates thoughts]

NOT A LOT OF SEX BUT SOME

Damn, I am supposed to be in charge of my own life but what the fuck?

It all started when I divorced my wife. We were not having a good marriage. We decided that we needed to separate and divorce, so we did. The reasons are not important, only the result. I am now twenty-seven and single.

It had not been a long marriage and we had a prenuptial agreement so we split what we made during marriage but what we had when we went into it we kept as separate. Either way there was not much.

Well I was able to afford a small house in a nice neighborhood. It had three bedrooms and a really large lot with more space than I needed. Actually it was acres of land. One of the bedrooms became an office, another a guest room and the master bedroom became the loneliest place in the house.

I had a nice kitchen with a small dining area off of it and a great room which was not really all that great. But the great room had sliding glass door/windows so that the back yard and the woods could be seen from inside of the house.

I had nice quiet neighbors on both sides. To the north there was an older couple around sixty and to the south there was a very pretty black woman about my age. I think she is some kind of lawyer. Her place is grander than mine but I had more open land and I had the water, wading pool, Jacuzzi and a swimming lane and a little brook that ran through the back yard and I owned the land on both sides of it.

When I looked I had at least ten times the land the lawyer had and that is when I realized that my house, while small, never was subdivided like the other homes in the neighborhood. Even the nice couple to the north had sold off most of their land to developers. It was not crowded but it was a little denser than would have happened.

I put in a swimming lane, a wading pool and a Jacuzzi and I had enough room for a baseball diamond if I wanted one. I actually got a backhoe and dug the wading pool and the swimming lane. The swimming lane was long, very long. An Olympic pool length is a tad over one hundred and sixty four feet, fifty meters, and mine is two hundred feet and I don't have a clue how many meters and I don't fucking care either. Napoleon once said his biggest regret was to let the egg heads of his time talk him into the metric system. Anyway it is heated and is only five feet deep as all I do is swim in it. The best part is the cover which is only two feet high and runs the entire length so it stays warm. It is even set up so that I can change the bracing system and use taller PVC pipe for the sides thereby raising the roof. I even designed it so that I can put link fencing over it but if someone got caught then I would not be able to get in and save them.

The wading pool has some five foot deep areas but most of it is between three to four feet. I have no idea what why did it but I just thought it would be nice.

I also dug a little pool about one to two feet deep, for ankle biters if I ever get any. I don't have any parents or brothers or sisters and no cousins either.

The Jacuzzi can hold four to six people and is above ground. That was one of the few things I did not make myself.

My problem is that I am land poor. I had land and I had payments on the land, and I had work and that was about it.

Now I did not have a wonderful "hello neighbor" relationship with those living around me. I knew them to look at them going into their house but on the street I would not know who they were. I was working all the time and when not working I was out digging all those little water toys I mentioned. And there were fence posts, and cleaning up the inside of the place. Take the walls down to the studs and start over again.

So for a year or more there was very little interaction except a few nights when Karen, the black attorney from next door, would come over and tell me it was late and I was making too much fucking noise. She had a way with words.

Well here she is now, complaining about the noise. There were a couple of ways I could handle that. "Fuck you cunt" was available as well as a few others; but I tried a third way.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, please forgive my inconsiderate conduct," and then I wrote my phone number on a piece of paper and handing it to her said, "if there is anything I can do to make it up to you please let me know. If in the future, I am making noise you can just call, you don't have to come over. Or you can always call me, tell me you are coming over, and I will have the door open and whatever you want to drink open and waiting, and we can talk about it in person." Damn she was beautiful.

"Exactly how do you know what I drink, don't make promises you can't keep." She says, now not as angry. She is a beautiful woman, black or white or yellow she was fucking beautiful, and enticing the males of the species comes naturally to her. I decided I was drunk on her scent. I don't mean her perfume, I mean her scent.

"You are going to have to tell me so I don't screw it up" I respond.

"I drink Champaign" she replies.

"Brut or Demi-sec?" I ask.

"Surprise me" she says with a smile.

"I guess that Cold Duck would not be the surprise you are looking for?" I toss back at her.

"Arrogant asshole" she says with a smile and puts my number in her pocket and walks away, with a nice sway to her butt. There was just something about her.

And with that brief discussion I sealed my fate. What was I thinking?

[Karen: Nice looking for a white man. I wonder why he never dates anyone. Maybe he is gay? Well I have not seen any women around or men either.]

I still got the occasional call about noise when I worked on the house.

Most of my work was on the computer so my days and nights seemed to just disappear. I would work until my brain hurt, then I would work until my body hurt, then I would sleep. Eating was something I did when I was hungry but there were no time tables for anything.

I did swim all the time though. At two hundred feet long if I swam 26.4 laps I had a mile. Four miles was just a hair under 106 laps. They were good long laps too and after a while I could get to where I did not even have to look at where I was, I just counted strokes and then I did not even have to do that. Then it was the deck, Jacuzzi with a little food and then sleep. When I was not tired I woke up and did it all again and since my days did not seem to cycle in 24 hour periods because my internal clock seemed to be off, I would find myself working all night and sleeping during part of the day and then slide into some other time period. I was "out of phase" with the world.

One night I was sitting on the deck watching the sun go down and I was having something to eat. It had been a very good month, a very good month, and I was celebrating alone again. All of a sudden someone was standing next to me. I looked up to see Karen looking down at me. Funny but I knew she was here before I ever saw her. Maybe it was that scent of hers? I got a chubby for no reason, it was her scent. My god she was so beautiful, but I digress. Now I did not want to be impolite but I had to ask. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Apparently she had just walked in my front door and through my home to the deck.

Well she just smiled and sat down at my outside table and took my Champaign and my fork and hit some of my cold lobster. "Just thought I would come by and say hello." She said.

"I know it is not a vintage Champaign but I am fond of Vueve Clicquot, and I find that their Brut goes well with cold lobster. Do you like MY choice?" I say trying to make her a little self conscious. "If I had known you were going to be here I might have bought a bottle of "Cold Duck," hoping comment did not go over her head.

This attempt at embarrassment does not even come close to working. Ok let's move on to step two. I was finishing anyway so I had something else to get. I excused myself and came back in a moment.

I return with cold vodka, Beluga Caviar from the Caspian Sea and of course it is not pasteurized. To be properly served you need to have diced onion, cream cheese, very light, some people like capers, and toast, very small toast chips. So that is what I had.

No I did not bring her a place setting or a glass. This was my home and I was king of my damn castle. This did not seem to affect her in any way. She reached over and took a hit of my chilled vodka, put a little creams cheese on the toast, added a bit of caviar and some onion, a few capers, and began too munch on my damn food.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

"Eating, what the hell does it look like I am doing? You do know that there are men all over the city that would love to have me for company? You should feel special that I am here." She said.

My next thought was that once they had her for company she would probably eat them.

I was exasperated. I went back into the house and got more vodka, a lot more vodka, some fresh bread and a place setting for Karen. As I put things down for her, with a sigh reserved for having to put up with spoiled brats, I just sat back down. Karen smiled and fixed herself another toast and caviar.

I was going to pour myself a shot into the clean glass but she beat me to it and took the clean glass for herself. Now I had to drink out of HER glass. It also means that every time I eat or drink anything it will have her scent marking on it. Yes I was definitely getting a bit of a chubby.

"I am about to fix myself a Rib Eye steak and had I known you planned to attend I would still not have bought enough for you." I told her. So there, this is my house I thought.

"That's fine with me; I will just eat part of yours." She smiled again. "I like mine medium rare" she added.

I glared at her and brought out the steak and put it on the steel cooking grill. I smeared the top with a butter garlic sauce that I so love and I also brought out two damn dinner place settings. After exactly seven minutes I flipped that bad boy and hit it with the garlic sauce again. She just looked at me and ate my damn food. Of course it was medium rare. Damn that was an accident.

Ok, I also had to bring out a nice hearty burgundy and two fucking glasses.

She not only drank out of both glasses she managed to just happen to use both damn forks too. Now I had to taste her scent when I put food in my mouth. I was going to have to stay seated for a while, I had a full on woody being this close to her.

She asked what I did and I told her I did computer interfaces. She appeared interested so I told her that what I did was make things faster. I wrote the programs to make a product faster. If a part took fifty steps to make by computer and I could get it made in forty steps then I could make six parts in the time it would otherwise take to make five. If you have to a make a million parts that is one hell of a savings in time, and that means money too. I worked for a company called "Speed Solutions" which was a small start up intellectual property company. My working was done by telecommuting. All I had to do was talk with computers. There was a sales staff that actually talked to people and some times I did too, but rarely.

"That is very interesting Franklin" she said. "So if I understand this correctly you sit in a room and have an intimate relationship with a computer screen, and then you work around the house and sleep. You don't go anyplace, you have no friends, and the thing you spend most time caressing is a computer keyboard. Is that about it Franklin?"

"Oh and you are divorced too." She added. "Gee I wonder why." She said with knowing sarcasm.

She finished my dinner and I got up and brought out some cheese and grapes. She helped herself without asking. A little water went best at this stage in MY meal. When she was finished I came back out with MY desert which she went after with a passion. Some dark chocolate and a Demi-Sec Vueve Clicquot was part of MY, make that our, desert.

Then I asked about her job and she said "I break the balls of little assholes like you who promise to speed up production and can't do it. Then I steal all their money, take their homes and don't even give them or their family cab fair to the local soup kitchen."

I sigh again and shake my head. What a sweetheart I think to myself.

"Well Franklin, at least I actually deal with people, real people, face to face. I don't hide in some fucking office and never talk with anyone. Oh, and before I forget tomorrow is Saturday and I need a key so that I can have a nice swim in the morning and I don't want to have to wait for you to open the door." She said.

"Let me see if I understand this. You come into my home without an invitation and drink my Champaign, vodka, and wine. You also eat my food, and then give me a bunch of shit about my life, insult how I make a living and how I live, and now you want a key to my house so you can use my pool?"

"Very good Franklin, for an engineer you are pretty astute. And in case I forget I like English muffins for breakfast, also I want some oat bran cereal and fresh milk, whole milk, none of this soy milk crap. And in case I want coffee I want fresh coffee not instant and real whipping cream for it. Did you get all of that Franklin or do I have to repeat myself?" She confidently said.

Well I will be damned if I am going to put up with this shit! I did not say a single word to her as I handed her my spare key. Fuck her, and I hope I don't have whipping cream and only regular cream for her damn coffee tomorrow. That will show her who the hell is boss in my house.

I almost tossed a few things out just so I did not have what she needed for tomorrow, but I had them all, I used them all, and I did not intend to deprive myself of anything.

[Karen: "What a silly little man," Karen thought as she walked back home. "It was going to be a very strange time for both of us. I wonder if he will be able to keep up. I wonder if I can keep up. What is it about him? Why am I even doing this?"]

As the sun came up the next morning I was swimming away having a great time. I was at lap 109 and going strong when I realized that something was wrong. There was not supposed to be a wall in front of me yet, it was to be a stroke away. I had run into something. Well I stood up and there it was. There she was. Karen.

"Franklin, how am I supposed to swim when you are here? I need some exercise and you are just in the way." Karen said.

I had never seen Karen in anything but business clothes, and yes short skirts. After all she was my age and damn fine looking too, with fantastic legs. But now she was standing here looking up at me.

She was five foot five and black. She had kinky hair, no other way to say it. She could have put a gallon of relaxer on it and it would still be kinky. She kept it close to her head, no long hair for her. It was not a "fro" but there was nothing white about it. It was not long and flowing, it was not something you could comb out. It was nappy hair. She had round eyes, black they were, and a round face with a North African nose. Not a flat black nose but that sort of thinner one but no one would ever consider it anything but an African nose. She had large ears but small lobes. And these beautiful full lips, well they were some of her many "best" features. Every damn thing about her was a "best" feature. Her neck was not long but she was a little on the heavy side, or at least she looked that way from where I was standing, all five foot nine of me. Standing there right in front of her it dawned on me that I could not see her feet or mine either. Her tits were huge black billowing pillows that were barely restrained by the bikini top that did its best not to break under the strain of all that weight. I would have to see if she had a counter balance on her back when I got the chance.

I was almost finished swimming anyway so I stopped and deferred to her. There was not much room with the top on swimming lane so I could not just stand and get out of the lane because I had to get to the end of the lane. I could not do much except move past her and she was not in the moving mood so I managed to slide past her. It was front to front moving. She ignored the fact that in my doing this I dislodged one of those black velvet tits of hers and then this really big dark black sexy nipple was using that part of the bikini top as a shelf rather than a cup.

She watched me as I went the few feet to the end of the lane so I could get out and probably notice that I had a very substantial erection in my Speedo's.

[Karen: Well it looks like I have his attention that is for sure. I can feel my breast exposed but he did not do anything about it. What the hell do I have to do get naked in front of him? This guy will just not take a hint. I have watched him work for more than a year, and I am so fucking horny I can't stand it. Any question about his finding black women sexy has been answered.]

I got into the Jacuzzi and sat back to rest a little and I think I took a brief nap too. I woke from my solo festivities of nocturnal type delights to find someone talking to be. Ok I was dreaming about Karen and Karen woke me up. I was trying to be poetic. Got to try new things or die.

"Where the hell is my breakfast and my coffee?" Karen demanded.

"At your house?" I responded.

"No Franklin, it is supposed to be here at this house. You gave me a key, I told you I would be here and you had a list of what I wanted, so what it the problem? Do we have a problem already?" Karen inquired, but it wasn't really a question.

"Now I am going to take a shower and get dressed and I expect breakfast when I am done, do you understand?" Karen said.

"Ok, ok, I get it. You are going to go home and take a shower, come back and expect I am going to have breakfast ready for you. Do you want bacon and eggs too, or maybe you want a fried egg for you muffin with a few pieces of bacon over them." I said, being more testy that normal. She had no idea that I was going to put the bacon under the egg rather than on top of it, just for spite.

A frustrated sigh came from Karen. "When did I say I was going home Franklin? Why would I get dressed to go home to get undressed just to take a shower, dry off, and get dressed again just to come back? I am taking a shower here and then I will put on clothes and have a nice relaxing breakfast."

What the hell, I needed breakfast too. I got up and hit the shower and put on some Levi's and a t-shirt and started getting everything ready.

Karen came into the kitchen as I was getting everything ready and handed me a piece of paper.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It is a piece of paper Franklin, what the hell does it look like?"

"Ok one more time." I thought to myself. "Why are you giving me this, I am a little busy right now."

"It is a list of things I will need next time I take a shower here. I am particular about what I put on my body and this is what I need. I brought my own for today but I really need these things here so I don't have to carry them around with me."

As I listened to her I saw the long tapering but strong legs, in some very nice boy shorts that just made her ass, large by white standards but small by black standards, look good enough to eat and a camel toe that made me want to try a little camel meat. She was wearing what they call mules that had a very pleasing effect on her calves. But her huge breasts seemed to fight with each under cover of her white ribbed tank top. And I have to admit that those huge nipples where even bigger than they looked in the pool. "Damn what a beautiful woman" I thought. I think I got a little chubby going on.

[Karen: I see he likes my outfit. I better not be seen in public like this or I will get arrested for hooking. This guy won't take a damn hint. Well white boy I am going to fucking own you.]

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