Emily's White Guilt

*** Disclaimer: Everyone in this story is over 18 years of age. All characters in this story are fictional and any sexual behavior is consensual.

She had come to hate watching the news, but found that she was somehow unable to stop. There was another story featured that questioned the validity of a Black man that had been shot by police after fleeing the scene of a robbery. The police officer had been placed on administrative leave while the shooting was investigated, but that seemed like too little.

"I wish we could take guns away from the police! I'm so sick of this kind of thing always happening." She sighed, and pushed herself more tightly against her boyfriend Kevin. He had a way of just always being there for her. She liked having physical contact with him as it made her feel like they were truly together, like they could face anything that came their way.

"Well, I wish there was a way to stop crime without having to use guns. Although if someone kidnapped you or something, I'd hope the police would have guns if they knew where to rescue you." Kevin said as he snuggled into Emily, she was his life and they had been together since their senior year of high school. While he hated that the police had shot someone, and again it seemed like it was another Black person that had been killed, he realized that taking away the guns from police was a terrible idea.

Emily let out a smaller sigh, she loved Kevin deeply but sometimes it felt like he wasn't really seeing the bigger picture. Maybe she'd develop a headache before he got too handsy. She huffed a bit, then pulled herself to her feet from her sofa and went to the bathroom.

Kevin had been looking for the right time to propose, but Emily had seemed distracted so often lately, the last thing he wanted to do was ask her to marry him and she answered one way or the other, without having a clear head. No, he'd wait for another day, maybe they'd make plans for a picnic this weekend.

As Emily returned to the sofa, she glanced at the framed painting of Gandhi on her wall with the beginning of one of his famous quotes below it 'Be the change...'

It was as if somehow her entire life had been tallied up, and she was found wanting. A flood of memories rushed into her brain, the friends that she'd had all of her life that had dwindled until none remained, there had only been Kevin, dependable Kevin. She had replaced the void left by the friends that had gotten on with their lives, found other friends, or simply gotten tired of Emily's constant crying about how unfair the world was, and simply stopped dealing with her.

Her new friends were all online now, and they loved her. The fact that Kevin grumbled a bit about her spending more time posting on forums, and replying to threads seemed childish to her, if he really loved her, he wouldn't want to monopolize all of her time, although she had to admit that her manager had caught her wildly tapping away on her phone at work on a few occasions and warned that the next time, she'd be given a written warning.

But there was something almost addicting about spending all of her hours online, posting and replying. Besides, she reasoned that this was much cheaper than shopping.

~

"Kevin, I wanted to talk to you about something very important." Emily said as she sat on the colorful blanket she had spread on the ground. They were enjoying a picnic at a local park, and the weather was perfect. Emily had been consumed with that painting and the message, she had to stop simply standing on the sidelines, she had to make something of her life, and make a difference and if Kevin really loved her, he'd stand by her and this decision she had arrived at.

"Oh? That's interesting, I've also got something pretty important I'd like to discuss as well." He answered and imagined that whatever it was Emily needed to discuss would pale in comparison to the question he'd ask her today.

"Okay, well let me go first," She teased with a smile "you know how upset I've been while watching the news. I feel helpless just seeing the injustice in the world and I realized that I'm not doing anything to improve things. That painting on my living room wall gave me what I needed, the kick in the butt to actually work to make a change. So I'm going to volunteer at one of the inner-city outreach programs. I've chatted about it with my friends, and they all agreed it's a good idea, besides you wouldn't believe how many likes my post got!" She finished excitedly.

"Volunteering, like how?" Kevin asked. He imagined her boxing up donated food items, or playing with children in a day-care while their parents toiled away in some low-paying job and earned barely enough to survive. He didn't really mind as long as Emily was safe.

"I think I'm going to be working with another volunteer and we'll be doing welfare checks on the older people that live in those neighborhoods. We just want to make sure they're okay, and that they have food, things like that." She explained, she had almost a glow about her, she knew it wasn't much, but it was so much more than sitting on the sofa and getting mad at the news.

Kevin considered what she had said, and imagined that it must be safe, although he could easily picture some dangerous neighborhoods that he didn't want his girlfriend in, regardless of checking in on old people.

"I'm going to start Monday, after work. I told them I could work weeknights, that way I'd have the whole weekend to spend with you." She said, the smile she gave him hoped that he would understand. The couple had spent much more than just weekends together, but she knew Kevin, and she knew that he'd understand.

"Every night?" Kevin asked, counting down in his head to calm himself and not take an 'aggressive tone' with her. Surely she didn't intend to spend five nights a week checking in on old poor people.

"It will make our weekends even more special." She said sweetly. Kevin was upset, she could tell, but she knew he'd calm down. Besides, she reasoned that if he really loved her, he'd know this was important to her, and he'd support her decision.

"Well it sounds like you've made up your mind, I just want to make sure you're safe." He said, and as was his way, for the millionth time, he wondered if other women were like Emily.

"I really need this Kevin, and I knew you'd support me. Okay, what did you want to talk about?" She asked, and grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Aw, nothing." he said and rolled his shoulders a bit. "It sure is a nice day."

They finished their picnic, and then went back to Emily's apartment. Kevin surprised her when he said that he had a headache, and wanted to go back to his own apartment, and that he'd call her the following day. Emily imagined it must have been a major headache, because Kevin had never turned down an opportunity to have sex, and they almost always had sex on the weekends.

Kevin returned home, and called one of his best friends. Unlike Emily, Kevin still had a good number of friends in his life that weren't just online handles and thumbs-up buttons.

"Dude, you already know what my advice is." Cal said as he sat across the table at the bar they were sharing a few beers at.

"I'm not breaking up with her Cal." Kevin said while shaking his head.

"You've been together for so long, you don't see how fucked up things are between the two of you." Cal answered, taking a final swig of his beer, and nodding to the pretty server for another round.

"Oh yeah? Who would be better for me?" Kevin asked semi-seriously as he too finished his beer in time for the server to return with two ice-cold replacements.

"Theoretical question, if my friend here asked you out, what would you say?" Cal asked the server, who raised her eyebrows, and then looked at Kevin with a 'not-fucking-around' expression.

"You're asking?" She said, and folded her arms in front of her very generous tits.

Kevin was caught off-guard, but decided to play along, just for fun.

"Yeah, I'm asking."

Her name was Rachel, and she rattled off her phone number, and added that if he wanted to take her out, he'd remember the number and add it to his phone. She turned and walked away, moving her hips almost like she was trying to hypnotize him.

It worked.

Kevin ended up having a headache on Sunday too, and couldn't make it over to Emily's apartment. In truth, he had just recovered from the best blowjob of his entire life, and while he should have felt guilt, and probably would a bit later, he could get very used to resting his head between Rachel's big soft tits. She was nothing like Emily, she was full of passion, seemed highly energetic sexually, made no apologies for who she was. She was nothing at all like Emily.

"Lick my pussy, then I expect you to fuck me till I scream for you to stop." Rachel said in a soft, and loving tone. Words that seemed impossible to speak in such a gentle way.

Rachel's pussy was shaved, she had a small ring that hung from her clitoral hood, the rest of her pussy looked like it had been caught in a blender. It really did look like someone had been chewing on it for an hour, but by the time she orgasmed from Kevin's tongue, her pussy lips looked swollen and red, adding to the almost uncomfortable vision.

He pushed into her with little fanfare, and Rachel immediately took an active part in sex between them, no, this wasn't really sex as much as it was fucking. While in the missionary position, she wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust her hips upward to meet his downward thrusts, and when they fucked in the doggystyle position, she sank her head to the mattress and slammed her ass backward to meet his thrusts and when Rachel began crying out, with the volume of those cries increasing rapidly, Kevin could last no more and he grunted repeatedly as he filled the condom he wore.

After they had recovered, Rachel said she wanted to see him the following day.

"It just so happens that my schedule has opened up." He said with a chuckle.

~

Felisha disliked Emily from the moment she saw her. Mousy, typical White girl with a hero complex, wanting to come to where the poor folks lived and make shit better somehow. The one saving grace was that Emily looked almost like a boy, with only the smallest indication of tits, and a flat ass, her primary identifier as female would be the longish, stringy blonde hair and almost cartoonish face.

"We're going into some rough areas Edna, you sure you wanna do this?" She asked.

"It's Emily, yes I do. It's not right for me to sit back in my comfortable life, when others are less fortunate." Emile answered proudly.

"You could just help out the Salvation Army, or a food bank, or a homeless shelter. You know, people get killed in some of the places we're going." Felisha explained, she knew none of this would work, this was what White women did that felt guilty for being White. She'd accompany Felisha for a while, until she got scared, or heard gunshots or something and then would disappear right back to her nice, cozy life and probably write a fucking book about their experiences and make a million dollars. Thats how fair the fucking world was.

"Okay, well, we've got a lot of people to check on, so let's get started." Felisha said, and walked out of the small office that had once been a corner store, years before, when corner stores could exist in areas like this.

Emily opened the passenger door to Felicia's escalade, and fastened her seatbelt. She took a deep breath and looked over at the middle-aged Black woman, if she had to guess, Emily would have imagined Felisha was a lawyer, or a businesswoman. She was dressed in a nice suit with a skirt that reached her knees, and a pair of sensible 2" heels. Felisha had large, dark eyes, and her hair, if it was her hair, was styled with many curls, and remained high, and off of her neck. Her dark red lipstick matched her long elegant nails and she was adorned with a variety of gold jewelry.

"Last chance White girl." Felisha said, while giving Emily a stern look.

"We should get going." Emily answered, and pulled herself up a bit straighter in her seat.

The pair drove through some veritable shithole neighborhoods, and Emily watched amazed as people openly sold drugs on some of the street corners, at one intersection, she witnessed several prostitutes, dressed in lingerie and sky-high heels. They all wore garish makeup, and pushed their asses out for the people driving by to peruse their goods.

They drove down a sidestreet, parked on the curb, and Emily followed Felisha into the first house. An elderly Black lady lived there alone, well she had a cat. They talked for a while, and Felisha asked if she had groceries for the week, the woman answered softly that she was fine, and then a few short minutes later, the pair said their farewells and said they'd see her next week.

As they walked to the escalade, Felisha pressed her remote and the back of the vehicle opened, she told Emily to pick up one of the many identical grocery bags, and place it on her porch next to her front door.

When Emily returned to the vehicle, she didn't ask, but looked at Felisha curiously.

"You know any hungry folks that will admit they're hungry?" Felisha asked, almost like she was talking to a child.

Emily nodded, but on the inside, she was struggling to control herself, she couldn't wait to finish up and get home to post about her adventures of the day, she'd get plenty of likes for sure!

They made six more visits like the first, and on the seventh house things changed a bit. When Felisha knocked on the door, Emily nearly reeled in fear when a tall, muscled Black man covered in tattoos answered the door with a scowl and he was looking directly at HER.

"Hi Reggie, is your grandma doing any better?" Felisha asked.

"Bout the same, who this?" he asked, never taking her glare off Emily.

"Rich White girl that wants to help poor Black folks." Felisha said with a smirk as she pushed past the large man.

"I'm Emily." she said meekly, and squeezed past him.

Reginald Washington turned as the White girl raced by, and gave her the once over. Her ass was as small as her titties, but he wasn't fooling himself, he'd never pass up some White pussy.

Mabelle Washington was lying in a hospital bed that had been assembled in the small house's living room. She was propped up and watching television and sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Felisha! Hey girl!" Mabelle cried out.

"How's the leg?" Felisha asked, the elderly woman had a cast that seemed to go from just under her knee to just before her toes.

"Itches like hell!" She answered, and held up a coat hanger that had been bent in half. "Reggie made this for me, helps some but I can't wait to get this cast off."

"Be glad he's here to look after you young lady." Felisha said as she turned to look at Reggie, who was rubbing his chin, and looking at Emily's flat ass.

"Yeah, she keeps me busy, she had me out in the yard pulling weeds this morning, ain't that some shit? Pulled a muscle too, hurts like hell."

Felisha made a face and said 'booohoohoo! Poor baby." then she looked over to Emily, who had been excluded from the conversation so far, and added "Help Reggie."

Emily's eyes popped open, and she turned to see the man staring at her, he made no attempt to divert his gaze as he checked her from her feet to the top of her head, then he just held out his hand to her.

Emily looked uncertain, and glanced at Felisha, who looked impatient and nodded at her.

She looked back at Reggie and took his hand, and he walked her out of the living room, as Felisha sat on the chair next to Mabelle and asked how she was stocked for groceries.

Reggie led Emily down a hallway, and into a bedroom that had a simple bed, and in the corner there were four tires stacked up with shiny chrome wheels, atop the stack was a TV, and a playstation.

"What? What?" Emile stammered, and pulled against Reggies grip.

"I just need a rub, it'll only take a minute."

"I don't think we can."

"You wanna help right? That's why you're here right?"

"I suppose."

"Then help."

He walked to the bed, turned and then pulled down his jeans and boxers in one motion. His dick was semi-hard and a good size, but Emily spun around and covered her eyes with her hands.

"Come over here White girl, you can't rub from over there."

"We're not here to rub people."

"Typical White woman bullshit, you make yourself feel better about having all the shit you have, by coming down here and acting like you give a shit, but as soon as that shit aint as easy as passing out a loaf of bread, then it's a problem."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Okay, then help me out, I've been doing my part, now do your part."

Emily walked closer and asked where he needed the rub, Reggie pointed to the inside of his thigh, where his leg started.

"You can press hard, I don't mind."

She tried to bend over and find a way to put her hands where Reggie had indicated, but ultimately sank down to her knees, and found herself staring at his dick as it continued to stiffen. Emily had heard stories, stories that she refused to believe, in fact she hated anything that objectified Black people, one of the stereotypes was that Black men had big dicks, and Reggie seemed to have a good sized dick, not huge, but definitely not small. She avoided any thoughts of that type, and put her fingers on his thigh, far away from his groin.

"Closer girl, I showed you where, you ain't scared of that Black dick are you girl? You've been with Black men before, right?"

"I'm not going to touch your penis, this is as close as I'll go, and if this doesn't help then you'll need to call someone else."

"Who am I gonna call? I'm, stuck here taking care of my gramama!" He said.

She began rubbing, and Reggie leaned back, and made contended noises, he just needed to get her lips on his dick and he'd call this a good day.

"Those fingers feel good, does your man tell you that when you rub him?"

"I don't really rub him."

"He's missing out, you got a gift."

"Rub harder, you can press, I don't mind. Yeah, like that."

Emily felt less freaked out, but her fingers were so close to Reggies dick and balls, and he seemed so unaffected that he had an erection in front of a stranger. She had to admit, there was something mildly arousing with the contrast of their skin. She hated that such a thought had entered her brain, but there it was. It looked sexy, whether that was right or wrong didn't matter, it just looked sexy.

"Rub harder."

Emily had never found Black men attractive, she'd always found herself drawn to guys like Kevin, and she didn't find herself attracted to Reggie now, but he had a kind of forward, uncaring attitude that she found interesting.

"Cup those balls, and keep rubbing."

She watched as her fingers eased towards his heavy balls, and then were gently wrapped around them as she rubbed with her remaining hand dangerously close to his waving hard shaft.

"Now stroke that dick girl, stroke it like you do for your man."

She could never do that, in fact she knew she shouldn't have her hand on his testicles, but she'd burned that bridge, and even standing up and waiting out to the car wouldn't erase the fact that she had fondled another man's balls.

"I really can't."

"Like I said, White bitches wanna help till it's not as simple as writing a check. What do you think you're gonna do down here? You think carrying a bag of food to people's houses for Felisha is gonna make things right? You don't think that maybe you got it a bit better than you should? Maybe you should spread some of that easy living around, maybe you can help ease the suffering in places like this, if you really wanna help, stroke that dick White girl."