Her Name Was Miss Mary

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She was strikingly beautiful, with dark chocolate skin.
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Author's note: I had such a good response from my first true story I thought I would write one more. The theme, once again, is about my experiences with a black woman. I would encourage you to read my other story, My First Black Woman to get a feel of who I am and what my interests are. As I stated in my first submission, I am not a professional writer and I am prone to make mistakes so I hope you the readers will be tolerant of my feeble attempts at holding your interest. I also want to remind you that my stories are 100% true. Yes, the years have jaded some of my memories and there are a few things I have to ad lib now as I have forgotton some facts over the years. But everything is none-the-less, true.

In the summer of 1980 I had already completed my active duty time in the Marine Corps and was a member of the Marine Corps Reserve. While I loved being a Marine, I was not sure a career on active duty was what I was meant to do as I had always wanted to be in law enforcement. So I had came back home and was settling in to a career as a police officer.

As most people know, law enforcement officers are not paid that well and many of us have to supplement our income by working off-duty security jobs. I was no exception and contracted my services to a local convenience store chain to work at their "combat stores". These stores were located in areas that had high crime rates or were stores that had had more than their share of incidents. The pay was excellent so I readily accepted one of the high crime area stores.

The neighborhood around my assigned store was a melting pot of races and cultures. There were blacks, white, American Indians, Hispanics and even an Asian or two. It was a lower economic based area to be politically correct, but in those days we just said it was just a plain old poor area. There was only one grocery store in a 5 mile range of the place and it had it's own set of problems due to the clientele and area. Now don't get me wrong. The majority of the customers who came into the store were good, honest people. They were just plain old poor with many living off of food stamps and welfare. But, there were the others. The bums, hookers, drunks, dopers and dealers. They were why the services of guys like me were needed. I dealt with everyone fairly but firmly and had no problem taking the malcontents and trouble makers to jail.

I, of course, wore my police uniform while doing these extra jobs. For weaponry, I carried a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum as my service revolver. I also carried a black, old-fashioned wooden nightstick on my left side. I was trained to use it and must admit I was very skilled in it's use.

I have always been attracted to black women, who I affectionately call "brown girls". I flirted with many who came in, being careful to not step over the line into what today would be called sexual harassment. Most of the ladies enjoyed the attention I gave them and I had a great deal of fun chit-chatting with them. At 6'4" and then weighing in at 225, I cut a pretty lean figure. The ladies especially liked my short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes.

I became the local counselor and attorney to many as it seemed someone always had a "police question" they needed to ask or wanted advise on what they should do about so and so who did this and that. As the area began to calm down due to my and the other security officers presence the store, business began to pick up and the area became much safer. Occasionally, one of the ladies would bring in a plate of chicken or some other food dish for me and the on-duty store clerk to nibble on. One nice older black lady brought me a homemade fried sweet potato pie. I hate sweet potatoes. But I ate it and I know when she left I had made her believe it was the best thing I had ever tasted. I was good at keeping the peace, but I was much better at public relations. I was prayerful though she never brought me another fried sweet potato pie!

One of the women who came in caught my attention from the first time I saw her. Her name was Mary. Oh, she wasn't beautiful like Halle Berry or anything like that. But there was something about her. She carried herself in a dignified, proud manner but not in the way that looked like she was stuck-up or better than anyone else. Her speech style was soft and succinct with a distinctly southern drawl to it. The first time she spoke to me it was as if butter were melting from her lips.

Mary, or "Miss Mary" as I would come to call her (and she called me "Mr. Rick") was then 41 years old. The years had been very kind to her as she did not look her age but more like a woman of 30 or so. She wore her hair in a coiffured fashion, similar to what Jackie Kennedy used to wear when she was in the White House. That style was out of fashion at the time for any woman, especially a black woman. The style though seemed to accentuate and soften her face. She was strikingly beautiful to me, with dark chocolate brown skin. Funny...her skin tone reminded me of the chocolate cocoa gravy my mother used to make for my breakfast when I was growing up. It was a smooth, creamy chocolate color, sinfully sweet and rich and you would pour it over large "cat-head" biscuits with a side of bacon or sausage. Yep, sinfully delicious. Mary's face was too, sinfully delicious. Well, not delicious but sinfully sweet. Her smile was radiant with a set of teeth a movie star would die for! I have met many women in my life but her face was so striking that it is hers I see to this day when I think of natural beauty!

Mary's dark brown eyes were large and an almond shape that she accentuated with black eyeliner that made them almost look oriental. I would later stare into those beautiful eyes as if hypnotized. They had that kind of effect on me and I have never been so enraptured with any woman's eyes since.

Mary's body was a little on the heavy side by most men's shallow standards. Oh, she was not fat or overweight, not by a long-shot! She stood about 5'5" and weighed about 175 to 185 but the girl was solid. She had had two children and there was a small amount of tummy but it was not unattractive. She had a very nice figure and looking back I would guess her measurements were about 40D-30-38 or something pretty darn close. Yeah, she was a "woman size" and not some skinny fashion model. And it was exactly the kind of look I liked on a woman. Especially those big brown breasts. Mercy but they were wonderful to look at!

Mary and I had chatted on several occasions when she would come into the store. I always had to divide my attention between her and keeping a watch on the comings and goings of the other customers at the same time which made an in-depth conversation with her in that environment very difficult. I didn't miss too much that was going on around me and tried to not miss anything she said though I know I did from time to time as I would have to ask her to repeat something she had said. She would just smile that sexy smile of hers followed by a "Never mind. You're busy and I should leave you alone" or something similar to that. I hated it when she would leave. Mary was my "island in a sea of insanity" at that store and I would look for her to come in every day I worked there. But, I usually only saw her once a week, twice at the most.

Oklahoma summers can be quite hot and stifling. July of 1980 was no different. The evenings were very hot and sticky and on nights like that you can almost bet there is going to be trouble of some type in every inner-city/lower income community. Alcohol flows heavy and tempers get short. Because of the stores location in the center of one of these types of neighborhoods, I was primed for a busy night. I had hoped for a quiet evening but by 9:00 PM three people in two separate incidents at the store had already gone to jail. I arrested the first two for attempting to steal a couple cases of Budweiser Beer. The third arrest stemmed from a guy who was reaching into his pocket to draw out some folded up one dollar bills to get himself some cigarettes when he dropped a bindle of cocaine on the floor. I remember he looked at the dope on the floor, looked up at me, looked down at the dope again, mumbled "Aw shit" and then placed his hands on the counter. I almost let him go but drugs was too big of a problem in that area and I had to maintain a tough stand on the matter to keep control. I had worked very hard to run the dealers off of that corner and I could not afford to show a soft side when it came to dope. By 11:00 PM I thought that maybe my excitement for the night was over. The store traffic had slowed down and I stepped to the backroom to grab a quick bite of dinner and drink a Pepsi. I was about halfway through my sandwich when I heard the unmistakable sounds of a drunk in the store. I looked out and saw a man who stood about 6'6" and was pushing 350 pounds and he was very angry about something. He had his back to me and I saw him grab a couple packs of smokes off of a counter display and put them in his pocket and was yelling at the clerk to give him $20.00. Shit! That constitutes strong-arm robbery! While I'm no lightweight myself, I knew this was going to be trouble. I quietly walked out of the backroom and began to creep up behind the guy.

During the course of my employment at the store doing security, I had had to draw my weapon on several occasions. But if at all possible, I tired to only talk people down without having any weapons involved. Ninety-nine percent of the time that worked well for me. But I knew from past experience that a large drunk man who is obviously ticked off about something was not going to listen to the voice of reason. I did not see any weapons on him or in his hand. So, it was time for my nightstick.

As I positioned myself to the rear of the yelling man, I placed my stick parallel at my side; one hand to the rear of the stick and the other about two-thirds up the shaft. I then spoke in a loud, commanding tone, saying "Excuse me dumbass!"

The man whipped around and as he did so, I thrust the business end of my nightstick as hard as I could into the blubber of his solar plexus. The air rushed out of his lungs (phew!) and as he began to double over, I stepped to the side and using my stick for balance pressed him forcefully down to the floor. I used my stick to put him in an arm bar and within about 30 seconds he was in cuffs. Oh, and he puked which, while gross, probably did help me in getting him cuffed so easily. As I stood up I looked around to ensure no one was coming to the idiots aid, I saw Mary by the fountain drinks. Her hand was over her open mouth and her normally almonds eyes were large and round in surprise. She seemed to stare at the man on the floor forever but after only a few seconds she looked at me and smiled, saying "Damn baby!" I was embarrassed.

Mary stayed around along with a couple of other customers to give statements to the police since there had been a use of force and an attempted strong arm robbery. It was a "cover your ass" thing on my part. As things returned to normal, Mary was commenting to me how impressed she had been on how I handled myself. I made a lame comment about how I could handle myself in other types of situations as well, a comment with obvious sexual overtones. Well, I know I had blown it. What a stupid thing to say to a woman who you really do not know!

Mary looked at me briefly and I know my face must have turned crimson as I felt myself flush. She then sheepishly looked down at my nightstick and ran her fingers up and down the handle and smiled.

"I bet you do Mr. Rick. Do you handle other sticks as well as you handle this one?"

What? She said something quite obviously sexual back to me! I didn't blow it after all!!!

"I've had no complaints Miss Mary. Why do you ask? Are you wanting to see me handle my stick some more?" Oh, I was so slick. Looking back on it I can't believe how lame it must have sounded.

"Actually," Mary said, "I would like to see you and your stick".

Damn! I nearly spackled my trousers. It was agreed that I would follow her home in my car as it was by that time the end of my shift. My relief, Officer Stu Carter, had arrived while the police were taking statements and I was only still there because I had wanted to talk to Mary. Stu gave me the "thumbs up" as Mary and I walked out the door. Stu was such a moron. Likable, but a moron.

Mary only lived about four blocks from the store in an old wooden duplex she shared with her youngest child, a daughter who was 14 but away for the night at her grandmother's. As we entered her living room, I could tell a light incense stick had recently been burnt and I was stuck at how clean and nicely furnished it was. I had figured considering the area, that her furnishings would be run-down or someone else's castoffs. I removed my gun belt and night stick and placed them on an easy chair. Mary came to me as I did this and without saying a word, reached her arms up around my neck and pulled me down to her waiting lips.

I was in nirvana! While I had been kissed by many a woman up to that time, I had never experienced a kiss like this. The term "soulful" comes to mind and I hope that doesn't sound too dumb to the reader or like a sterotype. But it was exactly that; soulful. Her thick, moist lips and tongue set me on fire; a fire I felt down to my toes and back up to the nape of my neck. And as she sucked my tongue into her mouth, capturing it there, I felt I was being raptured in pure sensual bliss.

We continued to kiss as our clothes fell around us and as she led me to her bedroom. She backed herself to the bed and then sat down and without a second of time passing took my turgid white cock into her warm, wet mouth. My hands went to her shoulders and my head fell backwards as a gasp escaped my lips. My friends, no one has ever preformed oral sex on me better than what I experienced at that moment. It was soft, it was sweet, it was loving. Oh yeah, there were the slurps and other suction noises one associates with a blow job. But it was just different I tell ya!

As Mary sucked my cock, she caressed my balls and lightly rubbed my ass cheeks. After a few minutes, she pulled her lips to the head of my cock and began to flick her tongue over the underside of it in between some serious sucking, while jacking my cock with her other hand. I'm no dummy, I knew what she was telling me by these actions. She wanted me to cum and I was glad to oblige. As my orgasm built, I asked her if I could cum in her mouth. I mean after-all, I am a gentleman!

Mary looked up at me with those beautiful eyes (to hell with Helen of Troy! Here is a woman who's face could "launch a thousand ships") and nodded her head in acceptance. And, within seconds, I erupted. As I blasted my thick cum into her mouth, Mary continued to massage my balls but moved her mouth down my organ to allow me to come directly into her throat.

As my orgasm abated, my knees weakened and I moved to the side of her and fell to the bed, my cock popping form her still sucking mouth. Mary moved up and laid next to me. She rolled over on top of me and bent down to kiss me and for the first time in my life I tasted my cum on the tongue of a woman. As we kissed and she shared my gift with me, I remember thinking to myself, "Hey! This isn't so bad. But I'm sure not gonna start taking warm showers with the fellas!"

Mary and I rolled around on each other and I trailed kisses down to her hairy pussy. It was thick and bushy and while I always liked a well trimmed or even bald pussy, I liked this for a change. Her clit was very plump and pronounced and as my tongue hit it she let out a squeal. Her "little man in the boat" was very sensitive and I capitalized on that fact by sucking it between my teeth and capturing it there as my tongue went to work. Now I have to confess, my cock is only "white guy average" at 5 to 6 inches. But let me tell you, I know how to please a woman's pussy with my tongue. For at least 30 minutes, I sucked, flicked, nipped, bit, kissed and blew. You name it, I did it to that woman's succulent, sweet pussy. And Mary was in an almost continual state of orgasm as not only did she have a large sensitive clit, but she was truly multi-orgasmic! Everyman's dream - touch your girl's clit and make her cum! Well, it wasn't THAT easy but you get the picture.

My jaw was getting sore so I let up on my pussy munching and scooted up next to her. I kissed her as she had done me earlier, sharing her cum with her and sucking on her tongue. Mary reached down and grabbed my cock which was so hard by then that a cat couldn't scratch it. She rolled me over onto my back and straddled me, placing the opening of her pussy on the head of my cock and slowly slid down. I'm not sure but I think she had a mini-orgasm just doing that. Damn but it made me feel like a stud!

I'm not going to go into the details of our love making. Suffice it to say I came three times that night all together. Mary had at least five screamers and I have no clue how many little ones. Understand this though, we never fucked. We made love...wonderful, romantic, tender love. We eventually went to sleep curled in each others arms, both more than sexually satisfied.

At around 6 AM the next morning I got up, showered and dressed. I had to be at work at 7:00 and while my uniform was the same as the day before, it seemed to still be wearable. Mary was still sound asleep as I got ready to go. I bent down to kiss her on the forehead and she smiled peacefully. I went into the living room and slung the gun belt over my shoulder. I picked up my stick and looked at it, remembering Mary softly touching the handle the night before. I turned to look back at the bedroom door hoping she would be standing there, asking me not to go. But, there was no one there. No sound, no movement. I quietly walked out the door, locking it as it closed behind me.

I did not see Mary for at least a week. I did not have her phone number to call her and I did not want to just pop up at her duplex door uninvited. About two weeks later, she finally did come in and acted her normal, shy self. We chit-chatted as we had always done but with an occasional intimate touch of a finger here and there. No mention was made of our evening together nor of her "disappearance". Damn! Was I that bad in bed?

I began asking Mary out on a real date and about a month of me continuously bugging her she finally agreed to dinner and a movie. She had been very hesitant for some reason but I just brushed it off as her being nervous because I was a cop.

I remember very clearly the excitement I felt as I showered and dressed on the day the date was to happen. Finally I was going to be with her again away from the job! I drove my 1955 Chevrolet (yeah, I'm an old car nut) to her house and went to the door to knock. But before my knuckles could strike wood, she opened the door and stepped out. I saw a young girl's face peek through the curtains and Mary shooed her away from the window.

"That was my baby, Sharonda. She's just being nosey to see you. She's going to her grandmother's house in a bit."

I waived at Sharonda and she darted away from the window. I could not recall ever seeing her at the store and asked Mary about it.

"Oh no! I never let her go there" she said in that sweet southern drawl of hers. "It's much too dangerous. Well, at least it used to be until a certain young white boy came on the scene."

We laughed at her comment as we walked arm in arm to my car. She was absolutely stunning, even though she was just wearing blue jeans and a flowery print blouse with a pink scarf belt and sandals. Hell, she could make an old burlap tote sack with a rope belt look good! I was decked out in blue jeans as well with a long sleeved white dress shirt, heavily starched, and my cowboy boots. I also wore a custom made western belt with my name on the back and a silver championship bull riding buckle I had won when I was a teenager. She got a kick out of the buckle and teased me about being a cowboy. I didn't mind as I had heard it all before in my life.

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