tagInterracial LoveMy First Black Woman

My First Black Woman


NOTE - I am NOT a professional writer so I would appreciate a little kindness and understanding for grammatical errors one might find in my story. I tried to catch all of my spelling errors but I may have missed some.

This story is a 100% true story and if you choose not to believe it, that's your business. This story is not meant to put anyone down or say that any particular race of people are better or worse than others or prone to certain lifestyles.

And, if interracial sex turns you off, then don't read it and don't leave negative feedback because you don't like blacks and whites being together.

Ever since I can remember, I have been attracted to black American women. Beats me why. Even as a child, I had a little black girlfriend whose mother cooked at a diner in downtown Tulsa where I was raised. Dang that cook had some big titties! I can still see those bullets slathered with grease and swinging as she walked by my counter stool. My father and I ate there on occasions and the cook's 5 year old daughter was always there, playing behind the counter or out back of the diner. I was also 5 when we first started eating there and remember sharing my bottle of Sun Crest orange soda pop with her one time.

As I grew older, my interest in black women increased. I was in serious heat over Diane Carroll and never missed her TV show Julia when it was on. The same was true with Peggy Fisher, the secretary on Mannix. But no one got me going like Lt. Uhuru did on Star Trek!

As a teenager with screaming hormones, I was anxious to have sex with any girl or woman I could talk into it. I was working at the airport on the evening shift while I was in high school with a slender black woman named Shirley. I was 16 and she was in her mid 30's at the time. I flirted with her unmercifully and tried to get her to meet me after work for "some fun". I never did get to fuck her, but she did let me kiss her a few times and I discovered the sweet, soft taste of a black woman's lips and from that moment on I was lost.

In November 1974, I joined the Marine Corps and was stationed in California. I had Playboy pin-ups of black 1965 Playmate Jennifer Jackson and about a year later after becoming a Marine, 1975 Playmate Azizi Johari. I remember my barracks mates asking me why I liked black girls so much and when I'd show them the two pin-ups in my locker, they understood perfectly. Oh, I still went out with white girls as very, very few black girls would date white boys back in the mid-70's. Even though the 1960's era of "Free Love" was still to be found, especially in California at that time, it was still taboo to be with black women just like black guys dating white women was strictly verboten! The only place I could really participate in my desire for interracial sex, whether it was black men/white women or white men/black women, was at the many porno shops that could be found in Southern California in the mid-1970's. And let me tell you, there were plenty of them!

In August 1977, I was sent to the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training School at Pickle Meadows, California, up in the Sierra Madres. Northern California was absolutely beautiful there and I loved the area. A couple of Navy Corpsman I was buddies with had also been sent to the school with me and they had purchased a 1968 Chevrolet Impala for $100.00 so we all could have transportation to go do things during our off duty time. On our first weekend there, my two buddies and I, along with a another Marine, took off on Friday evening for parts unknown. We had an 8 Track tape of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band and an ice chest filled with beer. Our mission: to find the infamous Kit-Kat Ranch and professionally have our ashes hauled before we had to return to duty at 0500 hours the following Monday morning. We also did some sight-seeing along the way taking trips over to Carson City, Nevada, Lake Tahoe and other spots that I have no forgot. The songs were playing loud and the beer was flowing.

The Kit-Kat Ranch, quite simply, was a Nevada whorehouse. It was about 10 miles outside of Carson City. On Saturday evening we stopped for a bite to eat in Carson City and one of my friends, Mike was his name, asked an older gentleman we saw on the street, "Say old Dude! Where can we get some pussy?" The man looked at him and laughed and said "Why you damn fool! You just need to go out of town a few miles to the Kit-Kat Ranch and you can get all the pussy you want, as long as you got the money!" We had no idea we were that close to the Ranch so we got directions from the old gentleman, ate a burger (no onions of course) and was on our way.

Within minutes, we pulled into the dirt and rock parking area of the Kit-Kat Ranch. At that time, it was several inter-connecting trailers with a large chain link fence around it and, if I remember right, barbed wire around the top. The fence entrance was electronically opened from the inside. We got out of our old beater car and went to the gate and pressed the button. A woman's voice came over an intercom and asked us what we wanted. And Mike, as he was a wee bit intoxicated, told her we were Marines (we considered our Navy Corpsmen as being Marines as well) on liberty and had "driven over to visit her fine reputable establishment for an evening of entertainment and frivolity". Mike was always able to come up with something funny to say. The woman laughed and the next thing we new the gate had been buzzed open and we were walking into the compound and up to the front door of the "Ranch".

The woman who buzzed us in met us at the door and introduced herself as the house madam. She escorted us into a living room or reception area that looked like something right out of a paperback fuck book; mirrors on the walls, red sofas, gold accents around, etc...just what I thought a Nevada whorehouse was suppose to look like!

There was two business suited white guys there as well with a couple of young ladies serving them drinks. After the madam seated us, she clapped her hands and shouted, "Company's here girls!", and out from the back came about 15 beautiful young women in various styles of lingerie. All were white except for two who were black. After they all got in a line in front of us, they each began introducing themselves from left to right. The madam asked us who we would like to visit with and Mike jumped up and pointed to a girl and said "She'll do". Oh, he was so eloquent - not!

My two Navy buddies picked the girls they wanted and off everyone went leaving me with the remainder of the harem to pick from. All of them were quite attractive but soon my attention was drawn to the two black girls. One of them, Diana, was darker and reminded me a great deal of the Playmate whose pin-up hung in my locker, Azizi Johari. I asked her if she would mind being my date for the evening and offered her my hand. She giggled very sweetly and accepted my offer and commented I sounded like a Southern Gentleman as we walked around the corner. As she escorted me, we made small talk and she asked where I was from. I told her Tulsa, Oklahoma and she stopped and said that she too, was from Oklahoma and had been born in Chickasaw (over west of Oklahoma City). Here I was, in a whorehouse in Nevada, and I pick a sister Okie. What were the odds?

As we entered her bedroom, she said that she was enjoying our talk but it was time to get down to business and wanted to know what I wanted. I then told her of my desires to make love to a beautiful black woman and of the fact I had not been able to accomplish this on my own. While I was not a virgin (I had no problem scoring with white girls and women), I had never been sexually fulfilled as my desire was to be with a black woman.

Diana began telling me that if I wanted to watch porn movies (on a Super 8 projector - remember, this was 1977), it would cost this much. If I wanted to use her toys, it would cost that much, it I wanted a blow job to completion it would be this much more, etc, etc. I told her all of that would be nice and maybe some other time, but my interest was to just make love.

"So you want to just fuck and that's all?" she asked.

"No ma'am", I replied, I want to make love to you.

She looked me in the eyes for a few moments and her hand reached up and touched my cheek. She very seriously and softly said, "That's sooo sweet baby. But I can't do that. You should only do that with someone you love and who loves you. Understand?"

I was somewhat embarrassed and looked down at the floor and said I did. She hugged me and led me to the bed.

"Don't be embarrassed baby. I'll make this good for you. Now, for just straight sex and nothing else, no movies, no blow job, nothing else, it's twenty bucks."

I fished the twenty out of my wallet. She told me to get undressed and she'd be right back as she needed to go turn in the money.

"Whoa! Wait a minute" I said, thinking that some big guy was about to come in and cave my skull in and throw me out the back door.

Diana stopped a the door and smiled her beautiful smile and told me not to worry. What we were doing here is legal in Nevada so I had nothing to fear. She left and was gone for only a couple of minutes.

When she returned I was still standing in the same spot and had not taken a bit of my clothing off. She giggled that sweet giggle again and came to me and began removing my clothes for me, telling me to relax and everything would be okay. Soon, I had nothing left on except my military dog tags. She led me to a bathroom over in the corner of her room and got a plastic basin and filled it with warm soapy water.

"Here baby, hold this 'peter-pan' under your business while I wash you up".

As she washed my cock and balls, my dog tags jingled from the movement. Once again, I heard that infectious giggle of hers.

"Oh baby! I'm going to have to call you Tinkerbelle if you keep on jingling like that" making a joke about her washing me in the "peter pan" as she reached up and flipped my dog tags, making them jingle again.

That made me relax somewhat and we both enjoyed her joke with a laugh and resumed our small talk.

Once she had finished washing off my jewels she escorted me back to the bed where she had me lay down. While she stood over me she removed the gown, panties and lastly the black lace bra she had on. Her breasts were quite large with huge areoles and fat nipples. She sat down on the bed next to me and without saying a word, bent over and sucked my cock into her mouth. My first thought was, "Hey! I didn't pay for a blow job!" But after a few moments I could have cared less. I was in the hands, or the mouth as it were, of a professional who definitely knew what she was doing. None of the white women that had sucked my cock up to that point could hold a candle to this woman! Her lips were so soft and her mouth felt like velvet. Not once did her teeth touch my cock.

I looked down at her and found that she was looking at me, right in the eyes. After a few more sucks, she raised up off of my cock and told me I was special so she was going to do something special for me and then proceeded to deep throat my turgid cock. It wasn't long before I shot off into her mouth and throat.

Diana continued to suck me clean and as my cock began to droop, she pulled up off of it and came up next to me and curled her body to mine. She told me that while my time with her was limited, I could do anything with her I wanted for the next hour. She said she had already turned my payment in and had told the madam (or whoever) that she wanted to take a little "free-time" with me. Apparently, the girls paid rent and needed to pay to stay working at the Ranch but could every now and then do a little extra for a client. But, time not working, was time not earning.

I was a happy boy! Not only did I just get the most wonderful blow job of my life but now I was going to get to do anything I wanted with this beautiful black woman! Who said whores were all bad?

At this point I tried to kiss her but she stopped me and said I could do anything else except kiss her on the mouth. It was a rule either she or the Ranch had, I don't remember which, as kissing passed more germs, disease, bacteria than any other form of bodily contact. I had heard this before but never did know if it was really true or not. I said okay and proceeded to kiss her nose, cheeks and neck while she stroked my head and mewled little pleasure sounds. I kissed and sucked her plump nipples, lingering there for some time, and then trailed down to her very hairy quim. I remember thinking to myself as my tongue touched her slit, "Can mouth kissing be nastier than this?" and drove my tongue into her hot, moist black pussy.

Diana pushed my head into her box as I kissed, sucked and licked her for all I was worth. I sucked her huge clit into my mouth and chewed on it and she clamped her legs around my head and bucked up at my face for several seconds before releasing her vise like grip. Did she cum? Hell, I don't know if she did or not. But I liked how she responded to me and I thought she did so that was good enough for me. In my mind, I had just made a black woman cum! That was all that mattered to me.

I looked up at her and her eyes were closed and her lips slightly apart. I moved back up and prepared to mount her. My cock was so hard a cat couldn't scratch it! I placed the head of my angry red cock at the entrance and slowly moved in.

Now, bear in mind, this woman was a hooker so her pussy wasn't tight like some teenage girl in the back seat of your car should be. In fact, her pussy was very loose. But I didn't care. It felt warm, wet and wonderful.

For about the next ten minutes I gave her all I had. I don't believe for an instant that I was sexually satisfying her but she moaned, licked her lips and said nasty things to make me feel like I was a real stud. As I was nearing orgasm, she reached up and again stroked my cheek ever so lightly.

"Oh baby....you're so wonderful. I love you. Baby I love you."

She loves me! And with that, I came. With those simple three words, "I love you", I blasted my seed into her. I was looking down into her eyes as I pumped my load into her and her dark brown eyes were smoldering with passion and what I perceived in my orgasmic bliss, to really be love. Never before in my life, and only a few times since, did I ever cum like I did then when I had my cock buried to the hilt in a black hooker's pussy. I knew she didn't really love me, and I knew we were not really making love. But she made it as real for me as possible. I had paid her to do it.

After a brief rest and some petting, it was over. Diana got up and was all business again. She went to the bathroom and douched (sic), then came out and got dressed as we made small talk once again. She sat at her dressing table combing and fixing her hair. I remember she asked me about a murder that had occurred in Oklahoma earlier that year that had received national attention and how sad she felt for the victims and their families. And then, it was over.

As she stood up she gave me a shiny red business card that said "Diana, The Love Goddess" on the front and then the address and phone number of the Kit-Kat Ranch on the back. As we walked down the hall to the front reception area, she held my arm in hers as if we were lovers taking a walk on a Sunday afternoon in a park. The madam met us at the doorway to the front area and asked if I had a good time and I of course told her I did. While I was talking to her, Diana slipped away. I never got to say good-bye or thank her for the pleasure she had given me.

The madam told me my friends had finished sometime ago and were waiting in the car. I left the trailer and went out to the car where my friends all began cussing and yelling at me for taking so long. Amazingly, I we had been there for two hours and they had all finished in 15 to 30 minutes. They wanted to know what the hell I had been doing all this time and while I did tell them most of it, I left out the part on how I had asked to make love to her but had been denied but had in the end, actually did just that.

I carried Diana's business card in my wallet for 14 years until, while on a military drug interdiction operation in Puerto Rico, my wallet became soaked with sea water and the card was ruined.

Since that day in August, 1977, I have fucked and made love to over 200 women, may of them black. But my time with Diana, a "professional woman" will always stand out as a special memory and I often wonder what ever happened to her. I do hope she is safe and happy, but for some reason, I just don't believe that is the case.

Thanks Diana, my "Love Goddess", wherever you are.

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