Lovely

[Sometime in the near future]

It began when a terrorist group no one had ever heard of -- the "New Aryan Order" -- killed two powerful POC's.

Two days later, another terror group -- the "African Liberation Front" -- countered by killing eight powerful white men.

Two days later, the New Aryan Order struck back, killing two more powerful POC's and causing a panic among the populace. Everyone called for the group to be destroyed, along with the ALF.

Three days after that... well, you get the point, right?

It took the FBI six weeks to track down and arrest the members of both groups. By that time racial tensions were insane.

Which posed a problem for me. See, I was the only white scholarship player on my college basketball team ten years ago. All the other guys were black. And because we were teammates, we became good friends, a feeling that lasted long after we had played together on a basketball court for the final time.

I decided to go over and hang out with two of the boys who lived a mile from me, in the black part of town. Maybe we could find a fourth and get up a game of two-on-two, for old times' sake. I walked over towards Khalil's house and encountered a barricade five blocks from it. Two young black men had blocked off the street and were standing there with rifles.

"What do you want, honkey?"

"Just want to chill with an old friend, maybe get up a game."

"Right." I could feel the sarcasm dripping from the young man's voice. "And who might your so-called friend be?"

"You know who Khalil Jones is? He lives a few blocks that way."

"You sit right there, honkey. If you're lying..."

The safety clicked off on the gun, which was now pointed directly at my chest. The twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds I waited with the gun pointed at me were the longest of my life.

"Let him in. That's my old pal Joe."

I'd never been happier to hear Khalil's voice in my life.

"Can't be too careful these days. Okay, white boy. Move it."

I understood the young man's feelings. But I wasn't one of the racists. "Maybe I should get a pass or something," I said as I got to my feet and walked over to Khalil. "To let me have entry into this area without going through this."

"I have a better idea," Khalil replied. "The house next to me got foreclosed on a few weeks before all this shit started. Go to the bank and buy it."

I'd been living not only frugally but in a minimalist fashion since my six-year NBA career ended. I needed to make sure the money I had made lasted the rest of my life. The idea of buying a house very cheaply so I would never have to pay rent again appealed to me.

Two weeks later, I was living next to Khalil. We played ball in the driveway when we couldn't get a game up on the nearby court at the park.

And a week after that, his older sister showed up. The company she had been working for for the past 15 years had fired her, and though there was no definitive proof, everyone knew it was because she was the only black person working there. They didn't give a reason -- thanks to stupid "at-will" employment laws, they didn't have to -- but as the old saying goes, it don't take a genius to spot a goat in a flock of sheep.

"Do me a solid," Khalil said. "Neither of our houses is big, but I got my wife and my daughter in mine. You just got you. Can you take in Denisha?"

"Sure."

Up until then, I had still been viewed with suspicion by the rest of the neighborhood. They hadn't said anything, because Khalil was a respected figure, but I had gotten looks that clearly conveyed, "what is this whitey doing with us homies?"

But now, those looks vanished. I was viewed, in fact, with the same sort of respect Khalil got. It was nice.

Remember when I mentioned I was a minimalist? That meant I had very little stuff. I had the usual home electronic center in the living room -- and two chairs. No couch. A small table to eat at. The second bedroom held several bookshelves with my books -- and that was it. The master bedroom had a king-sized bed and one dresser. The only thing well stocked was the kitchen. I had to cook well, since I followed a regimen to stay in tip-top shape. A habit left over from my time in the league.

Denisha didn't have a lot of stuff, and by giving her most of the closet in the master bedroom and the entire closet in the second bedroom, she had enough space for her clothing. I allocated her some dresser space for things like underwear, which can't really hang in a closet. And of course, I had about six items in the bathroom, so there was tons of space for her assortment.

"We'll have to share the bed," I told her, "unless you want to sleep on the floor."

"As long as you don't try to do anything to me while I'm asleep."

"That's a promise."

"Thanks for taking me in, Joe."

"You're welcome, Denisha. You really should be thanking Khalil for suggesting I buy this place and for asking me to take you in."

That night, I slept on the right side of the bed, and Denisha slept on the left side of the bed, leaving about a four-to-five foot gap between us.

When we woke up, and after we did our morning routine, we lay on opposite sides of the bed and rotated so we were looking at each other.

"Khalil didn't tell me much about you. Where were you working?"

Denisha explained that she had clawed her way into college by getting an academic scholarship given to the valedictorian of her high school -- and one that needed a 3.0 GPA or higher in college to be maintained. After graduating with a 3.6 GPA, she got an offer from the largest company in the state as a low-level paper pusher. She'd worked her way into middle management and had never had a negative thing said about her in the whole time she'd been there -- and then the NAO and ALF popped up and racial lines seemed to be drawn throughout the country. She was fired five weeks after the attack on the justices. And when it became obvious she wouldn't be able to get a new job, because of the racial tensions throughout the state and the country, she contacted Khalil and came over to this neighborhood.

"Very sorry that happened to you. You probably are really pissed at corporate America right now."

"That would be an understatement."

"As far as I'm concerned, you can stay here for the rest of your life and never bother going back to work. I'm retired and need nothing."

"Khalil said you were in the NBA for a while."

"Yeah, and I have enough to support us both indefinitely if we live on a modest scale."

"That's a wonderful offer. I accept."

"Let's eat. I'm hungry."

Denisha changed in the bathroom while I got dressed, and we headed for the kitchen. I asked if she wanted anything specific, and she said no. So I cooked some French toast, "carbo loading" in anticipation of the game Khalil and I had scheduled at the park later.

Denisha tagged along for the game. Khalil and I managed to get four other guys to join us. In the game of 3-on-3 full-court, played to 21, all baskets 1 point each, Khalil and I each scored 10 baskets for our respective teams. His teammates were slightly better than mine this time, and after 67 exhausting minutes, his team won 21-19.

Denisha walked back with me to the house. After I showered up, I cooked lunch -- ham, cheese and mushroom omelettes, with steamed broccoli on the side.

"Your cooking is different than mine," she observed after inhaling her omelette and working her way through the broccoli. "Quite good, though."

I stared at her empty plate. "I can see you liked it." I quickly finished what was on mine and cleared the table. "What do you usually cook?"

"Soul food -- you know, cornbread, ribs, cooked greens, lots of kale, stuff like that."

"If you'd like me to buy that stuff so you can be comfortable --"

"No, no. This is much better for me. But I do love me some ribs."

"I like ribs, too. I'll cook up a mess of 'em about once a week and usually have leftovers."

"If you want leftovers, you'd better buy twice the amount you usually do."

I laughed and promised her there would be plenty of ribs when I cooked 'em. Three days later, I was ready to. I asked if there was a specific type of barbecue sauce she preferred.

"The brand you have is fine."

She was right about liking the ribs. She polished off about ten of them. Then she got up -- I was still eating -- and walked over to me. She was as tall standing up as I was sitting down (my position was power forward in the league, and I'm six-foot-eight.) She kissed me on the cheek, making me blush, and said, "those were excellent."

"Thanks," I grunted. For the first time, I actually looked at Denisha's body. She was about five-foot-three, with a decent chest and a very pretty face. Even though she was pushing 40, she could easily pass for college-age. Black women always age really well. She noticed me admiring her and slowly turned around. The yoga pants she was wearing showed every curve. Her ass, as always seems to be the case with black women, was round, curvy and perfect.

She turned back around. "Like what you see?"

I blushed again. "Um... yes, you look quite nice."

"Keep feeding me those ribs and you may just get to see more of me." She winked and grinned.

"So the way to your heart is through your stomach?"

"Perhaps."

We spent a lot of the next few weeks in the bed just talking. I got Denisha to open up about what her childhood was like, how she felt about Khalil's success (she was a bit envious, but also happy her kid brother was doing well for himself), and about her family. (Her grandmother, who had passed away 6 years back, apparently made the best soul food on the planet, including doing things with okra that transformed it into the food of the gods.)

I continued to make ribs once a week and tried my best to include Denisha in the cooking process -- as a teacher. I wanted to learn what else made her happy enough to consider advancing our relationship. She wanted to learn how I cooked healthful "white person" food and made it tasty, and I was happy to share what the team nutritionist while I was in the league had taught me about cooking.

We also started doing "couple-type" things, like watching movies together. We'd put the two chairs next to each other and hold hands. I took her along on trips to the store to resupply the food. She'd come watch me play basketball, even if Khalil wasn't there with me.

And after about two and a half months of this, Denisha came up to me after dinner as I was cleaning the pots and pans.

"You've been very patient and not tried to pressure me into anything. And you've taken the time to get to know me and displayed true interest in me. I'm ready to get physical with you in bed."

"Okay, Denisha. Since I don't know what you like done to your body, I'll let you lead."

"Sounds good. When you're done, strip and join me. I'll be waiting for you... naked."

I finished cleaning the pots and pans, used the restroom, then headed for the bedroom and removed my clothes. Denisha, as promised, was lying naked on top of the covers.

She ran her eyes over my toned body and one of her hands slipped between her legs. I joined her on the bed.

"I never have actual penetrative sex during the first bedroom session," Denisha informed me. "Why don't you start by kissing me, and then afterwards sucking my nipples?"

"Sure, babe," I grinned.

Denisha slid her body upwards so that her lips could interface with mine. I gave her a soft kiss, and she tried to put her arms around me. They couldn't quite reach. Mine easily enveloped her, and I held her securely. We kissed again, this time twining tongues.

"Mmmmm," she purred. "That was a nice kiss."

"I agree," I told her.

She scooted her body up further. With her breasts at the level of my face, her feet were about at my groin.

"How do you like this done, Denisha?"

"Gently, please, Joe. Just suckle me. No biting."

"As you wish."

I kissed through her cleavage, and she smiled.

"They're in between a B and a C cup."

"They fit your frame perfectly. E's would make you topple forwards onto the floor when you tried to walk."

I took one of her nipples into my mouth and began suckling gently. Denisha pressed her body more firmly against me, and I found my hands on her ass when I held her.

"Go ahead and squeeze if you want. Just don't pinch."

I groped her nicely curved ass and switched my mouth to her other nipple. Denisha shivered and slid a hand downwards. I could feel her maneuver a couple of her fingers into her pussy.

"Mmmm. You're a good listener and a very caring lover."

I began flickering my tongue over her nipple. She moaned and moved her fingers faster inside her box. I suckled with more enthusiasm. She pumped herself harder.

"Keep sucking."

I switched nipples again. Denisha was now squirming with excitement. I groped her butt firmly and she shuddered. Her hand shifted position and a moment later she let out a lusty howl and I could feel her juices gush from her box. They mostly ended up on my belly.

She popped her fingers out and licked them clean of her honey. "Your turn to cum now. I said no penetrative sex, but how about a nice handjob?"

"I won't refuse that." My cock was already hard from getting her off.

She eyed it. "About seven inches. Perfect size. My small frame isn't built for a huge one. When we do fuck, and that will be soon, you'll fill me up nicely."

I lay on my back and let Denisha slide back down my body. She wrapped her hand around my pole and experimentally stroked me a time or two, getting the feel of my rod.

Then she sped up and got into a slow but steady rhythm. I made appreciative sounds, and she gave me a happy smile. I liked seeing her hand move up and down on me.

She used her other hand to caress my balls. It had been a while since I'd cum, since I didn't want to jerk off with her in the house. As a result, my balls quickly filled.

She seemed to read my thoughts. "This will take the edge off, so that when we fuck, you'll last longer than two minutes."

I nodded. She continued her steady pace, moving her hand up and down. My cock started to throb as I got close to climax.

"Go ahead, Joe. Cum for me. Let me see your hot seed."

My hips bucked spontaneously when she said that. Her voice was so sexy, and she realized it right away.

"Shoot for me, boy. Give me your cum." Her hand moved faster on me, and my legs stiffened.

"I want every drop."

She caressed my balls more vigorously. I spurted high into the air, then lower as my balls were drained. Denisha didn't stop moving her hand until the last driblet oozed out of my cock.

"Mmmm. Nice."

She licked the cum off my belly, then cleaned the head of my cock with her tongue. Then she swallowed the load she'd collected.

"Tomorrow, we fuck."

"Okay, Denisha."

I turned out the lights. When she curled up against me, it seemed like all of her was lying on my upper body due to the height difference between us. I gave her one more kiss.

"Good night."

"Good night."

We fell asleep with her head on my upper chest.

The next evening, we were back on the bed. I held her gently, loving the visual contrast of her ebony skin against my light-toned body. Denisha gave me a kiss.

"I had a hysterectomy three years ago. A precautionary measure, as the doctors detected an abnormality that might have developed into cancer."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that. The word `cancer' is very scary."

"Thank you. I'm fine: my last checkup showed nothing suspicious. Also, it means you can cum in my pussy without worry."

"If that's what you want, that's what I'll do."

"You're a sweetie. But we need to warm each other up first."

Three minutes of intense kissing and groping later, Denisha directed me to lie on my back. She shifted her position so that her pussy was directly over my mouth, and she leaned forward.

"Joe, can you move your hips more towards me? My mouth can't quite reach your cock."

I adjusted my body the way she asked, and she lowered her slit to my tongue. Her lips wrapped around my dickhead and she sucked softly. I lapped up her nectar and slid my tongue between her folds.

"Mmmmm." Denisha pressed her body downward, and I slid my tongue in even deeper. She continued to suck the tip of my cock. I lifted my hands up and groped her nice ass. She took about two-thirds of my pole into her mouth.

I started swirling my tongue in circles to catch Denisha's flowing honey. She ran her fingertips along my balls as she sucked me. I licked her with more enthusiasm, and she slid her tongue up and down my shaft.

Denisha's body trembled and she gushed her honey onto my face. I gulped down as much as I could.

She lifted her body off mine. "I'm ready to be fucked now, Joe. I don;'t think missionary will work, you'd crush me underneath you. So do you want me to ride you or do you want to do me doggystyle?"

"Which gives you more pleasure?"

"I like being taken from behind."

"Sounds good."

Denisha got on her hands and knees and I positioned myself behind her. I rubbed the tip of my pole against her slit.

"Put it in. And go slowly, please. This isn't a race."

I eased my way into her delightfully wet box.

"Slowly, you say?"

"Yes."

I pulled out until only my head was inside her, then slid back in at about a millimeter per second.

"Well, you can go a little bit faster than that."

I built to a slow but steady rhythm. Denisha shivered and pressed her body backwards, trying to get as much of me inside her as possible. I put my hands on her lovely ass and groped her.

"I'm glad you find me sexy."

"You're stunning," I assured her, continuing to pump in and out of her. She moaned and shivered. I leaned forwards and kissed the nape of her neck, making her gasp.

I took my hands off her ass, reached around her and cupped her breasts. She purred as I gently teased her nipples with my fingertips.

"Speed up just a bit. I'm getting close."

I sped up my thrusting, though I still didn't use all my force. Honestly, I was getting close as well. Denisha seemed to sense that and she pressed her body backwards into mine.

"Mmmm. You about ready to fill me?"

Keep talking dirty to me, I thought, and I'll fill you on the spot. I couldn't speak coherently, but my moans let her know.

Her body tensed and her pussy spasmed around my cock as she howled lustily. That set me off, and I blasted jets of my sperm into her. She used her pussy muscles to milk every drop I had out of me.

I finally pulled my softening pole free and collapsed next to her on the bed. We were both momentarily spent.

When we recovered enough to move, Denisha curled up against me and purred. Like a contented cat. Eventually, she spoke.

"Joe, that was wonderful. I want to do it often."

"We can do it as often as you like."

"Good. Kiss me."

We kissed.

"Good night, Joe."

i turned out the lights and wrapped my arms around her.

"Good night, Denisha."