Love Knows No Color Pt. 10

"I'm gonna come Jason, I'm gonna come," Shavonda panted as she neared her release. Mine was building as well, but she was going to beat me across the finish line. I bucked my hips up into her, crashing violently into her body with every thrust. She arched her back and threw back her head as she went over the edge, with a long drawn out, animalistic groan. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh." I continued to fuck her hard, as she quivered around me, then collapsed on top of me, speechless and out of breath. Still, I was not there yet. Shavonda lay limp on top of me, staring glassy eyed into my eyes as I continued to ravage her body.

I could feel her walls pulse around me, seeking my seed as I pounded into her. Finally, my body decided it was time. The old familiar feeling welled up inside me. This one was going to be explosive. I thrust even harder, pushing myself over the edge. My toes curled, every muscle tensed. Then, with unendurable pleasure I could take no more. The dam burst, and I buried myself deep inside her. Flooding her pulsating pussy with my hot seed. Shot after shot erupted deep inside her, as I went limp beneath her.

We lay there in bliss, twitching and pulsing through the aftershocks, looking deep into each other's eyes. I stared into the eyes that owned me, the ones that I would do anything to make sparkle.

Shavonda unexpectedly burst into tears. I held her, sobbing, offering comfort, wondering what I did wrong. "You didn't do anything wrong," she sobbed. "I don't even know why I am crying." That's weird, I thought. Maybe she's under too much stress. She'd been moody lately. Not bitchy, mind you, but just irritable. Then the next minute she'd be giddy with happiness.

I hoped it was stress. Lord knows, the past few months had not been easy. Our whole world had been upended in the past year. Hers, especially. She'd gone from being a single, childless woman to a full-time mother of two, all the while being harassed unmercifully by the kids' biological mom. On top of that, her business had doubled with the opening of the second store. And, thus far she'd held up remarkably well under the pressure.

Not knowing what to say, I rolled her over on her side so she could lay her head and arms on my chest, and let her cry herself to sleep. It hurt me, seeing her this way, but I didn't know what to do other than hold her.

I awoke in the predawn stillness, lying on my side facing her. She was on her side as well, her arms around my neck, her legs had mine trapped between them. When I squeezed her asscheek, she'd hump against my leg in her sleep. This was interesting. I squeezed her cheek a couple more times, just to see what she'd do. She continued to hump my leg, grinding her pussy against my trapped leg, leaving a wet trail on it. I was fully awake now, and horny as hell.

I managed to slip my hand between my leg and her moist slot, working my fingers to her clit. Rubbing her there, I enjoyed the feeling of her, no our, juices lubricating my finger. The stimulation had her grinding against my hand and leg again. She was still sound asleep. I fingered her to an orgasm, she arched into me as she released, but never woke up. I was tempted to roll her on her back and fuck her in her sleep, but decided not to. She'd have probably been okay with it, but I didn't want to take the chance of offending her in her current mental state. Eventually, in the dim light of the dawn, I was able to fall back asleep.

I was awakened a couple of hours later by the sweetest feeling. It started out as a dream. I was in a mountain valley, by a beautiful lake. A beautiful black woman, I never saw her face so I don't know for sure it was Shavonda, was giving me the most incredible blowjob. Her head bobbed up and down in my lap, turned away from me, while I played in her soft curls with my hand. When I opened my eyes, the mountain lake was gone, but Shavonda had taken me deep in her mouth and was throating me.

"It's not fair," she whispered, "I never did get to taste you last night." She resumed sucking my dick, I reached out and fondled a tit as I watched her do her thing. She was so good at it. Even after all this time, she still loved the taste of me. She wasn't sucking me to please me, she was doing it to satisfy her needs. What a way to wake up.

After I'd erupted in her mouth, and she'd swallowed every drop, she came up and kissed me. "That wasn't fair what you did to me in the middle of the night." Shavonda said teasingly. "How you gonna finger a girl then leave her high and dry?" I'd thought she was asleep, evidently she was awake enough to know what was happening to her, and by who. I ran my fingers through her hair, enjoying its coarse feel. She smelled wonderful, a mixture of perfume and sex that I found intoxicating. Best of all, she was here with me, neither of us caring about anything else but being with each other.

We showered together, and had a late breakfast before setting out on another adventure. This time, with the help of topographic maps, I was able to locate the monument marking the spot where Pennsylvania, Maryland, and West Virginia came together. We parked the car along a country road, where a high voltage powerline crossed, and followed the catheads back into the forest. After about 1 quarter mile, we cut off into the forest to the left. We soon found the stone marker, and I took photos of Shavonda next to it.

We made our way back out to 40, and continued east. Soon, holding hands, we crossed into Maryland. At Keyser's Ridge, I turned south on 219 and soon we were at Deep Creek Lake. The highway followed the lake for a few miles, before crossing to the other side. Soon we were in Oakland, where we had dinner at the Fireside Inn. After dinner, it was getting late. Darkness would overtake us before we made it back into Pennsylvania.

The second night in the motel was a more relaxed one. Shavonda gave me a bubble bath. She really loved to sit in a tub full of bubbles. I had an idea. I left the tub and returned with my camera. We took semi erotic photos of her in the tub, lathered in bubbles. Her exotic dark brown skin contrasted nicely with the bubbles, and the effect was far more powerful than even a full nude would have been. I vowed one of these days, I'd take a photo of her face contorted in the sheer pleasure of an orgasm, just to see if it would be as powerful.

Our bubble baths had a sort of ceremonial ritual to them. First, we'd wash each other, she did my back, we'd switch places then I'd wash hers. Finally, we'd wash each other's fronts, lingering on the erogenous spots. Leaving the tub, we'd dry each other off, then I'd rub her cocoa and shea butter lotion into her skin. We both enjoyed this special time together. It didn't always lead to sex, but when it did the results were explosive. Even when it didn't, it was relaxing. Shavonda would return the favor with a baby oil massage for me, and we'd finish off with her braiding my pony tail.

Sunday, we got up early. I had a special day planned. We got on the turnpike and drove east to Breezewood where we had steak and eggs at the Gateway. We then took 70 to Hancock, md, then 68 west. A few miles up the road was the Sideling Hill rest area, just east of the mountain itself. Sideling Hill was not only a civil engineering wonder, the roadway cut almost 400 feet deep into the top of the mountain, it was also a geologic wonder as well. When blasting out a path for the highway, the construction crews uncovered one of the best examples of a syncline in North America. A syncline is a u-shaped depression in the rock strata, and the tightly folded center of the "u" formed the top of the mountain. Lower rock layers formed successively broader arcs, with the various layers having slightly different colorations. The result was a spectacular look at the interior of a mountain laid bare.

Having dropped out of school on a dual Civil Engineering/ Geology major, this was just the sort of place we'd have gone on a field trip. Instead, I'd had to wait until the right companion came along to share the journey with. Shavonda, who'd shown great interest in the rock formations on our previous road trips, was that person. She seemed almost as fascinated as I was, asking me what type of rock the various layers were. One layer in particular caught her eye, it was a deep dark reddish brown, almost brick color. I told her I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it looked to be some form of iron ore.

We continued east and wound up in Harpers Ferry where we toured the battlefield. We learned that in the years leading up to the civil war, the fort, which was in Virginia at the time, was seized by abolitionists who held out for a while before being overrun by federal troops who took their fort back. In essence, Harper's Ferry was the prequel to the Civil War.

Leaving, we headed back west, opting to take 68 to Cumberland. We drove through Sideling Hill on the highway, then over endless mountain ridges to get to Cumberland. Once there, we ate dinner at Kline's in the middle of the Narrows, a mountain gorge that cut through a mountain ridge. The mountain itself was a classic textbook example of an anticline, the opposite of Sideling Hill. Here, the rock layers bent up and over the mountain in an arch, with the same rock formation forming the surface of the mountain the whole way across.

The restaurant itself sat along the creek across from the railroad tracks, with a spectacular view of the cliffs towering far above. Fried chicken was the daily special so we both had that, with mashed potatoes and gravy. It was interesting. I have mentioned how in tune we were becoming. The fact that more often than not, when we went out to eat we ordered the same things was proof. But tonight, things were slightly different. Shavonda had a sudden urge for Ice cream, and ordered a bowl of fudge ripple for desert. -

We left Cumberland driving into the sunset, over the mountain to Berlin and Somerset, and made our way back to Pittsburgh. We got to my house just in time for Rose to drop off the kids. Since everybody was tired, we opted to spend the night at my house. All of us had clean clothing in both houses, so there was no reason not to stay.

As we lay in bed, having put the kids to sleep and showered together, Shavonda had turned introspective. We talked about our life together, what our expectations had been, how our reality had differed from that, and what we would change if we could. It turns out, we were both deeply contented. Shavonda said, "You know, it's weird. First time I heard your voice you made me horny. When I seduced you, I half expected you to run. Instead you've taken on the world for me. You've never disrespected me, or wavered in you love and support of me. It's like God created us for each other."

Easter week soon came. I'd arranged to take both Good Friday and the Monday after Easter off. We'd have two whole days at my parents' place. They insisted we stay there the whole time instead of getting a motel for the first night like we had the previous summer. Since Easter Sunday fell on March 31, I knew that the weather would be a big question mark. It would be almost as likely to be cold and snowy as it would to be warm and sunny. I truly hoped the cold and snow would stay away. Even worse was the prospect of freezing rain. That would make the winding mountain roads extremely treacherous, along with the very real possibility of ice bringing the wires down, leaving the farm without power for a couple of days.

Because of this, we had to pack double the clothing we normally would. We'd need warm clothing in case it was cold, plus summer clothing in case the weather was unseasonably warm. Warm weather would seem even warmer with the leaves just starting to grow on the trees. Even though the farm was much farther south than Pittsburgh, the weather was remarkably similar due to the elevation. The leaves came out on the trees a couple of weeks earlier, but that was offset by some extremely cold temperatures in the winter. The added clothing we'd pack, plus all the kids' clothing and toys would make for a very cramped ride in the Jeep. Driving the Cruze was out of the question. There simply wouldn't be enough room in the trunk for all we had to take.

You'll notice another subtle distinction here. Our vehicles, while legally registered to each of us, were now interchangeable. It was no longer Shavonda's Cruze or my Jeep Liberty. Both cars were ours together, and we used them interchangeably. For better or worse, we were completely a family now. The marriage was a mere formality. We'd already had the discussions about how to best integrate our possessions.

The one big dilemma we faced was what to do about my house. It was only slightly larger in total size than Shavonda's, mainly due to being a two story while hers was a single story. The large backyard, which my house didn't have, gave the kids a place to safely run free. That was the basis for our decision to move into Shavonda's house. In reality, we'd already done that, as the only time we used my house was for train night, and as a place to meet Rose when she picked up and dropped off the kids. We didn't want her knowing where Shavonda lived. Not that it mattered, but I still didn't trust her, even though she was not as openly hostile as she had been.

Shavonda had gone to the grocery store and bought Ice cream, the same fudge ripple she'd had at Kline's. The kids were ecstatic. We all sat around the kitchen table eating ice cream, having a family moment. They adored her, and the fact that she'd bought ice cream for them only made us love her more. Though I'd never really had a taste for fudge ripple, I enjoyed it, simply because she'd chosen it. "It was the closest thing I could find to swirl," she said with a mischievous smile. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I'd never forget the way she'd eaten her swirl cone on our first date.

Tired as I was after having driven an 18-wheeler 450 miles, we packed the Liberty Thursday night. Afterwards, we had our usual bubble bath once the kids were in bed. Shavonda rebraided my pony tail after I had rubbed her with lotion, I was getting used to having her play in my hair. It felt good to know she cared enough to do that. Earlier, she'd put Brittany's hair in beads. I joked that she should open a hair salon next.

"I do this because I want to, because I love you and the kids. Doing a stranger's hair just wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be fun," Shavonda told me. "Besides, that's what mothers do, take care of their childrens' hair. And as for you, Mr. Indian brave, you need to look the part. I find it a huge turn on when you look like your heritage."

We were up at the crack of dawn. We had a long journey ahead of us. Instead of heading the fastest way, via 79 and 19 to 64, I planned on doing a little sightseeing on the way down. We strapped the still sleeping kids in their car seats, and headed south by way of Uniontown, past Deep Creek Lake where we'd been the weekend before. Following 219 south, we stopped at Blackwater Falls for a late breakfast. At the lodge, we took the kids to the overlook at the edge of the canyon, looking down on several hawks riding the thermals above the river far below. It was a scene of serene beauty, and once again I took Shavonda's photo. I never tired of taking her picture, she always looked so good. This time, I took one of her with Ethan on her hip, and Brittany holding her hand. Their backs were turned to me as they peered out into the canyon.

We backtracked to 219, heading south through Elkins, and over the mountains to Marlinton, and on to White Sulphur Springs. We found a diner there and had a late lunch. The kids had a small hamburger and fries, while I had chicken. Shavonda, in an unusual move, had liver and onions. I didn't even know she liked liver. She just shook her head and said she had a taste for it. She didn't know why.

After lunch, we continued south. Three hundred miles of winding mountain roads had taken their course, and everybody but me was suffering from car sickness. I pulled to the side of the road in a wide spot, and hustled everybody out of the car. Luckily, they all made it to the rail. I felt so sad as I watched the three of them heaving their guts out. I had found a roll of paper towels, and helped clean them up.

I had expected this from the kids. They weren't used to long road trips. But Shavonda worried me. We'd gone everywhere together and not once had she ever gotten sick. I hoped it was either a cold or stress.

It was almost sunset when we finally arrived at the farm. As usual, my parents and Grandma were waiting on the porch for us. Shavonda and the kids looked the worse for wear, and I had to explain that they'd all been carsick. We put the kids to bed in my sister's old room. They were exhausted and didn't put up a fight. I went out to the car to retrieve our bags, and stowed them in my old room, where Shavonda and I would sleep.

When I came back downstairs, Shavonda was seated on the living room couch, showing off her ring. She looked tired, not her usual self. My mom had made a dinner for us, but Shavonda was not hungry. Instead she wanted to lay down. I led her upstairs to the room and tucked her in, then returned downstairs. Even if nobody else was, I was hungry. Besides, Mom had made a pot roast, with boiled potatoes in gravy. How could I resist. She knew it was my favorite. We saved some for Shavonda when she felt better. Afterward, we all talked in the living room, where I told them all about what we'd been going through with Rose, and how it had all backfired and we wound up with permanent custody of the kids.

"I'm so happy for you two," Mom said. "You found a good one. Don't ever let her go."

Dad chimed in. "A woman who will love your kids as her own is hard to find. She really loves you all. Even as sick as she was, that was plain to see when she walked into this house."

I couldn't argue with them. They were right. That's why she got the ring I chose, because she'd loved us unconditionally.

I excused myself, telling them I'd pulled a 14-hour day at work the day before, plus the long drive down. I was exhausted.

"Jason," Mom said as I left the room. I turned back to her. "You're almost married now. You don't have to keep the door open this time. We knew you were intimate with her the first time she came here. You two were way too comfortable with each other."

"Thanks, Mom." I was smiling. In her mind, we were already husband and wife. My heart was light as I wearily trundled up the stairs. There would be no lovemaking tonight. Instead, I would hold my queen close, wishing her sickness away.

In the morning, Shavonda seemed better. I found her in the kitchen, helping Mom with breakfast. She'd worn the gold dress I'd gotten her for Christmas, and looked as beautiful as ever. Something about gold on her dark skin brought out the best in both colors. She was happily flipping pancakes, looking like she belonged in the kitchen I'd grown up in.

"Shavonda, I love what you've done to your hair. It looks good on you," Mom complimented her. She'd never seen Shavonda with straightened hair before.

"Don't get used to it," Shavonda replied. "Next time you see me it will be back in its natural curls. Jason wants me to look just like I did when we met, for the wedding."

Mom said, "You have a glow about you that I didn't see last time you were here. Are you sure you're not....?" She let the question dangle. Shavonda's smile darkened, and she burst into tears.

"Mom, she can't have children," I explained. "She's sterile."

"I'm so sorry, dear." Mom looked embarrassed. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Shavonda sat on my lap, sobbing into my chest as I rubbed her back, comforting her. "That's the one thing she wants more than anything in the world, a baby. And it's the one thing she can't have. Why do you think she dotes on Brittany and Ethan the way she does? Why do you think she's fought Rose for them? They are the only children she'll ever raise," I told Mom. She nodded her head. She understood.