Contrast Ch. 01

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White guy and black woman start a sex-only relationship.
8k words
4.72
79.7k
169

Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/10/2015
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(This is part one of a three- or four-part novella about two people who start a just-for-sex relationship on impulse. But have they bitten off more than they can chew?)

Him

So I'm walking down the street to get breakfast after dropping the car off at the dealer. It's still early, not many businesses open, modest traffic, but the sun's up and already starting to heat the sidewalk and asphalt. Ahead of me, walking slower than I am, there's a luscious looking chick in a faded denim skirt and camo tank top. Her skin is dark, her hair highlighted bronze and up in a knot at the back of her head. As I get a little closer, her color resolves itself from uncertain and dusky to a definite chocolate brown, and as I get closer still she glances over her shoulder just enough to give me a glimpse of her rich brown lips and softly rounded nose. Her eyes are hidden behind tortoiseshell sunglasses. She's wearing a backpack, but a small one. It leaves her shoulders bare and obvious. They're strong but curvy, as is her waist below the backpack. The pale denim skirt hits her mid-thigh, and it's full of her can -- round, broad, maybe a little too broad, and maybe her thighs are heavier than they could be, but it's still a great package.

She's walking much slower than I am. The space between us closes.

Ahead there's a stoplight, where I'm planning to take the crosswalk to the other side of the street. I don't want to zip around her just to get there first and have to wait, so I slow down a little. Then I have to slow down more, and more. I'm getting very close to her now. She throws a look over her shoulder again.

We reach the intersection, and she turns. Her eyes are still invisible behind the dark lenses, but there's a challenge in the expression on her smooth, dark, oval face, and a sharpness in the angle of her brows.

"You want some of this?" she asks, her arms moving just enough to emphasize that she's including her whole body in that pronoun.

"Um, look, I was just --"

"Coz if you want some of this, my apartment's right over there." She hooks a thumb over her finger toward a complex halfway down the block from our light.

"Geez," I say, taken aback. I don't know if she's making a serious offer or angrily mocking me for following her so close. Her tits are round and large within the camouflage pattern of her tank top, pushing it up and forward, cleaving together in a gorgeous molasses-colored valley inside her low-cut neckline. I try to keep my eyes off them. "I'm -- my car is in --"

Her face softens a little -- losing a fire of offense, or maybe losing enthusiasm for her proposition.

"Are you serious?" I ask, suddenly desperate to head off the second of those alternatives.

One sharp eyebrow perks back up again. The corners of her broad lips curve higher, and clean white teeth show between them. "I don't know. Are you?"

"I can be."

"All right then. Fuck all and let's go."

She turns and crosses through the intersection, legs pumping faster now, like she's got someplace to be. I keep up, eyes on the swish of her bottom in that skirt. She doesn't say anything, and I don't either. Once in a while, her head tilts back across that shoulder as if to make sure I'm not falling behind.

We reach the apartment complex. She cuts around behind the office to a nearby building, shucking her backpack as she gets to the stairs. On the way up, I continue watching her ass and legs while she finds her keys in the pack. Smooth, shadowy, brown, round, stepping up the stairs, wagging that tightly filled denim skirt back and forth as they move. Suddenly, we're at her door and she's unlocking it, stepping in, tossing her backpack and keys on a pass-through bar that opens onto the kitchen. It's a small place, dim and cheap, only a little furniture, all of it plain but not trashy.

"Through here," she says, looking back just long enough to check that I've closed the door before she glides down a short hall to the bedroom. By the time I join her, she's kicked off her shoes and is undoing the catch of her skirt, lowering its zipper.

I stare for a minute. The skirt slides down past her hips, revealing cocoa flesh in powder-blue cotton panties.

"We doing this thing, or what?" she asks. The sunglasses come off in one hand, held at an angle that looks like a command. Her eyes are deep and full of fire, with sensuous lids and perfect, luxuriant lashes.

"Uh, yeah," I say. Then, feeling stupid and insufficiently encouraging, I add, "Hell yeah."

She pulls her top off as I fumble with my belt and fly. My shoes don't cooperate either. Before I'm half out of my clothes, she's naked, standing before me.

Naked.

Her breasts jut aggressively from her chest, high and round, nipples as big as the tip of my pinkie, areolas as far across as my whole finger, all a rich, earthy loam color. Her belly curves out with a fecund cleanliness, smooth, perfect in its lush swell, punctuated at its lower end by trimmed pubic fuzz. She's got her hands on her hips, hips cocked, mouth in a lascivious smirk at my awkwardly undressing form.

"Come on, white boy, let's see what you've got."

I get my ankles free of my pants, yank my shirt over my head. In the moment I'm blinded by the motion, she steps forward and gets on one knee, her fingers seizing the waistband of my briefs. I throw the shirt away and look down at her wide-eyed, feeling my cock surge fiercely against the fabric of my shorts.

She brings the waistband down slowly, slowly, revealing my nest of brown curls, then the root of my dick, then an inch and two and three of shaft.

"Lookin' pretty good so far," she says with a grin up at me. She tugs the shorts down hard and I pop loose, my pole aimed straight for her face. Her hand circles quickly about my shaft. "Mm-hm, pretty good, all right."

From my angle, with her hand around me and her mouth right there, I completely expect her to lunge or ease forward and wrap those sweet, full lips over my tip.

Instead, she rises up from her knee, and as she does so, angles her head, spits a huge gobbet of saliva onto me, and uses her hand to quickly sheath my whole cock in the wet, slick fluid.

Then she lets go and spreads her arms and falls back onto the bed behind her. Her legs draw up. She scoots into place with her head against the pillows.

"Let's get to it, then," she says.

"Christ," I respond, then jump onto the mattress with her.

I crawl quickly into place, pulled forward by her hands as soon as my shoulders come within reach of them. She gets a hand down to guide my tool before I can do it myself. Her legs are up, I'm lowering forward and down onto her ...

"Fuuuckkk!" she groans as my cock goes in. She's damp and slick around me, tight, deep, flesh-soft and muscle-firm all at once.

"Shit," I gasp. "Nfh, that's -- oh my god, what a pussy!"

Her legs and arms wrap around me and that big mouth slurps up onto mine in a wet glide of lips and tongue. Lower, her pelvis rocks up to accept me even deeper into her cunt, grinding our crotches hotly together.

"Uh, mm." She withdraws the kiss and licks her lips, then seals her mouth back over mine and starts to hump.

I slide with her. She's amazingly strong. Her whole body moves to bring her slick vagina forward and back around me, to keep her clit pressed firmly against me. She's moaning and mumbling through our kiss. I'm working hard to keep up with her, to feel like I'm driving as powerfully into her as she's squeezing tight around me. Her tits are soft and huge against my chest, the nipples pressing into me, rubbing along my pectorals. Her stomach, curvaceous and smooth, stays in constant contact with mine. Her fingers dig their way along my spine, mostly the tips but sometimes the nails, never quite enough to hurt.

Belatedly, I realize something -- why, I don't know. Do I say anything? I have to.

"Crap, look, I didn't even think about a condom -- do we need to --"

"Fuck that shit," she says firmly, holding me tighter like she wants to make sure I don't pull out. "Just give it to me. Uhh! Squirt it up in me when you get there, I've got a piggy bank somewhere I can break open for Plan B money. Fuck me, you bastard!"

I laugh and get back to it, humping, driving. She's exquisite, a straightjacket of muscle and soft flesh trapping me, pulling back against every move I make, squeezing, inescapable. My cock feels every ripple and texture inside her cunt, hot and wet with her juices, exhaling her smell from our crotches with each thrust I ply into her.

"Yeah! Yes, fuck me like that!"

"Uhh! MMMnn -- that's good?"

"Fuckin' A! Oh -- oh, fuck, my cunt! You're doing it, you're doing it -- aaahhh..."

She's bucking beneath me like a hurricane sea. Her teeth are gritted, her moans squeezing out between them, her face a clench of peaking focus. My hard-on is an iron beam driven into the foundations of heaven to hold up the clouds. We're both sweating out a summer downpour, my white skin hydroplaning over her black body with every push I make into her gutteral depths.

"AHHH!" she yells in my ear, dragging me down onto her with all her strength. "AH-UH-UAAHH! I'm coming - fuck, coming so hard - ah, god, lay it INTO me!"

Her back arches powerfully enough to throw me off if it weren't for the vice-tight grip of her arms and legs holding me deep in the spasming tunnel of her snatch. I can't even move to make another thrust, she's wrapped so fastly around me.

"YESSSSSS! OH, YOU FUCKER! UHH! UHH! UHHHH!"

She collapses back, arms and legs now encircling me loosely instead of constricting anaconda-tight. I start fucking her again, smooth and slow. Her breath is all panting and moans.

"Oh, you've got a cock on you, boy," she whispers. "Oh, that's a cock."

I probe her with it, loving the way her flesh parts around me as I push in, suckles slickly as I draw back. "You like it, huh? You like this cock in you?"

"Yesss. Work it ..." Her slitted eyes play across my face as her heels encourage me with a light pressure between my thighs and ass.

I move faster. She's a serpent-den, deep and moist for me to slither through.

"Take me deep, honey," I gasp. "Take that thing!"

"Uh! Yeah!" She's tightening up again. "Hump it into me! Make me your bitch!"

The word shoots through me like electricity. It lights up that switchboard in my brain changing the connections from penis-making-a-pleasant-call to orgasm-dialing-in-on-priority-line.

I jam myself hard into her. "That what you want? Ngh -- that?"

"Yes, fucking pound me!"

I'm trying to put the orgasm on hold, but it's not having it. I start giving her all I've got, hips thrusting locomotive-fast, dick swelling up steam-hot inside her sultry hole. The sweat is dripping off me, drops from my chin hitting her throat, her cheek. She's gleaming with it and with her own perspiration. Her tits are slick pillows of flesh gliding under my chest with the movements between us.

"Take it, then, bitch," I groan. "Take my fucking, uhh - you hot - mnh - sweating - ah - juicy - bitch!"

She's back in straightjacket mode, a wet, constricting animal grinding against me, with me. "Give it to me, you fucker! Put that cum up in me!"

"Oh shit," I say, feeling the cusp. "Oh shit, here it is ..."

"Ah, ah, yes, me too --"

I blow loose inside her sweet, throbbing cunt. "AHHhhh!"

"Eee...ng ..." she squeaks. "Coming ..."

The orgasm rolls her spine up into another arch as I gush and spew inside her. "Fuck, bitch, that's so good!"

"Coming ... eeeuu ... AH! AH! AH!"

The cum keeps flowing out of my balls while her peak subsides in a series of lowering waves.

" ... fucker ..." she pants. "... that cock ..."

"So good," I breathe. "Can't believe it."

She laughs. One hand leaves my back and runs along my cheek. "Oh, yeah, believe it."

I kiss her, eyes closed, tongue seeking to connect the perfect circle of joining we just accomplished. She kisses back, relaxing, feet leaving my thighs and returning to the mattress. I feel the air-conditioning drying the sweat on my back. My softening dick gives another throb inside her.

"Jesus, you're a good fuck," she says. "How'd you get to be that good?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, I've never had anybody this fantastic to fuck with."

"Mm," she says, and kisses me again. "I hope your car is in for something big and you're not going to run out and get it anytime soon."

"Oil change and tire rotation. And they're expecting me at work at some point."

"Shitfuck." She scrapes her nails along my back, glistening dark eyes wandering from my face down my throat, across my chest and shoulders. "Well how often are you going to be able to come back and do this to me?"

I put my mouth to the pulse below her jaw and ear. "Mmm. Bad time to ask. Right now, I'm ready to fucking move in and spend all day every day doing this."

"No, you can't move in," she says, wiggling lightly beneath me. "They'd need your name on the lease, and I don't want to know your name. I just want to know your cock."

"Are we joking right now, or is this going to be a thing?"

"Dunno if you're joking, but I'm wanting it to be a thing. I'm wanting this dick in me nice and regular."

"But no names?"

She shakes her head. "Gimme your number and I'll put you in my phone as 'Fuck-Man.'"

"What do you want to be in my phone?"

She grins. "Put me in as 'My Bitch.'"

"Goddamn, the way you say that ... I never even liked that word until I had my cock in you when you said it."

"I never liked it either," she says, "but I never had a just-fucking relationship either. Turns out I do like the way they go together."

I'm still in a daze. All that comes to mind is to say, "Your body is fucking amazing."

She laughs. "No, say it the right way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, 'Bitch, your body is fucking amazing.'"

"Wait, what? Does being my bitch mean you get to tell me what to say? I mean, I'm not sure how this whole 'bitch' thing works."

She pushes her pubis up against me. "You want to slip your dick in this cunt on a steady basis, yeah, I get to tell you what to say."

"Okay. Bitch, your body is fucking amazing."

"Damn straight it is. And it knows a good cock when it's wrapped around one."

"I'm going to fuck you again now."

She grins. "Get to it."


Her

It's three hours after that when I get out of bed and go to the bathroom. A ridiculous amount of cum slops out of me when I sit on the can. I should be thinking what the fuck did I just do? But instead I'm watching his semen drip from my vagina and thinking it sucks how he's got to go pick up his car and get to work.

I feel so ...

Alive.

Proud.

Grateful.

I wipe and flush and get up and run the tap and lean on the basin for a second without starting to wash my hands yet. I'm looking at the girl in the mirror and thinking, Woman, you are a fuck machine. It's like that reflection's a different person. All the parts I thought looked fat yesterday look like a man wants his hands on them today. And his mouth. The dude was goddamn all over me the second and third times we did it. Like he couldn't get enough of anything, like every inch of me blew his mind, like he had to smell and touch and taste me head to toe to believe what was happening to him.

And he didn't just like what he found -- he fucking loved it.

The tap's still running and suddenly he's there in the doorway behind me. I left it open because ... well, I told myself because I didn't want him grabbing his pants and sneaking out. But that wasn't it. I knew he wasn't going to. No, I left it open because I wanted this: him coming over because he can't help himself, shaking his head at the sight of my ass and my naked back before he looks up to meet my eyes in the mirror. I left it open because I didn't want anything between us that didn't have to be between us.

I start washing my hands.

"So, you're going now, right?"

"Yeah." His eyes and his voice swear that he doesn't want to. "If I don't, I'm going to fuck you again, and then by the time I get home and shower and change, I'm going to miss my after-lunch meeting and there will be hell to pay."

"Come help me wash my hands," I say.

"Oh fuck."

I laugh, seeing his cock stir as he says it, knowing he's already imagining himself up next to me, arms around me, hands on my hands under the running water, dick nestled right in my crack.

"I'm kidding," I say. "Get your skinny ass to work."

He looks relieved and disappointed at the same time. Putting a foot into his pants and underwear at the same time, he says, "Bitch, you are bad news."

I laugh again, turning off the water. "You've only seen the start of it."

With his pants all the way up now, he watches me turn and use the hand-towel.

"What?" I ask, drying my hands. "Don't you have to leave?"

Those eyes stay on me, and they've been on my face through all of this, even though my tits are swinging right out there. He gets his shirt up, bunches it to put one arm into a sleeve, then breaks eye contact to pull it over his head, just for a second. The other arm goes through, and then he's just standing, like a man on the edge of something.

He wants to ask if I'm sure about the no-names thing. He wants to tell me he feels something. Or maybe he just wants to kiss me goodbye.

"Look ..." he says.

"What?" I put my hands on my hips and give him a mean look. Not because I'm mad. Because I know if he asks, I'll tell him anything he wants. If he says he feels something, I'll melt. If he kisses me, I'll beg him to stay.

"Uh ... I just wanted to say, this was great. I'll call you. Promise."

"Yeah, good. I had fun too. Now get the hell out so I can look for my piggy bank and make my trip down the street to the pharmacy."

He blinks a little, like he'd forgotten the whole Plan B conversation. Then he nods and heads back into the bedroom for his shoes. I lean against the bathroom doorframe while he slips them on -- sneakers, a little worn. He's paying more attention to the laces than any adult needs to. Is he going to offer to pitch in for the whoops-forgot-the-condom pill? I can almost see the gears spinning in his head: Which one would be shittier? Having money change hands right before I leave, or leaving her on the hook for the stuff when she says she's going to have to scrounge to pay for it?

I don't want him offering to spot me birth-control money. For one thing, it'd feel cheap. For another thing, I really don't have spare cash to be throwing around, and it would suck to have to turn him down.

I stay slouched in the doorway, keeping my eyes on him and narrow, letting my lips curl up a little like I'm a cat who's got her sights on a nice, fat, slow mouse, only she's not in any hurry to pounce -- she knows the mouse can't get away. He stands up. If he was planning to say he'd cover the Plan B, my patient-cat look changes his mind.

With a scratch to the back of his head, he says, "Okay. Well, I'll see you soon."

"Bitch."

He laughs. "Yeah. Bitch."

But he's still slow going out the front door, and when I look through the peep-hole, I see him stand there a while before rubbing his chin and heading for the stairs.

I turn and slide naked down the door to the floor, whispering, "Crap, girl, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Head leaning to one side against the knob, I close my eyes, and we're there in my bed again, missionary, cowgirl, doggy-style, sixty-nine. I'm hot between my legs like his mouth is sucked tight right on target. In my head he's coming inside me -- coming and coming, his dick pulsating through the tight squeeze I'm giving him with my cunt.