Olivia

I hadn't intended to spend the evening sitting beside a beautiful young woman my daughter's age, shouting to be heard over the din in a crowded blues bar in Chicago. I was on the tail end of a two-week, 11-state fundraising tour, and by the time I finally started home I was so exhausted I didn't even know what day it was. Heading east from Iowa toward Indiana I kept ignoring the nagging voice of my GPS trying to route me onto the turnpike ("Re-routing... Re-routing...) - I knew I could get across Illinois on major highways without paying tolls. I was too dazed to pay attention to where I was until I saw the towering skyline looming ahead, and realized I was headed straight for downtown Chicago.

By this time my GPS had gotten pissed off and was intent on revenge - instead of routing me out of the city, it directed me deeper in. When I saw Clark Street, I realized I was only a few blocks from Blue Chicago, a small but well-known blues bar I'd visited a few years earlier. It wasn't quite 8:30 pm, and I knew from my previous experience the place wouldn't fill up for at least another hour. I could chill out a couple hours, get my bearings and hear some good music in the meantime. I found a parking garage nearby, walked to the bar, and sat down at a table with a Belvedere and tonic to listen to JW Williams Blues Band.

A few drinks and a few sets later the place was filled with an odd mix of urban blacks and white suburban metrosexuals, and the standing-room crowd between the band and the entrance was large enough that the waitresses were passing drinks over people's shoulders. A young couple standing nearby was obviously getting into Claudette Miller's voice, and recognizing kindred musical tastes I tapped the man on the shoulder and invited them to sit in the empty chairs at my table.

He smiled and started to reply, but the woman moved between us, beaming at me. "Hey luv! I'm Olivia, and this is my little brother Trey. Thanks for letting us sit with you." She took the chair next to mine, and motioned Trey to sit across from me. We made introductions, and as we shouted to be heard over the crowd and the band she would laugh, brush her straight black shoulder-length hair away from her eyes, casually resting her hand on my thigh or knee. She seemed to be the outgoing one of the pair, answering for Trey whenever I spoke to him, and doing her best to keep the conversation between her and me. She was quite pretty, several inches taller than I, not at all fat but thick and well-proportioned, her frame suggesting a voluptuous strength. She had a lilting, dusky voice that seemed to ooze sex, and while she was clearly "inner-city" she was obviously very intelligent, quick-witted and well-spoken. Her faded jeans were the fashionable ripped-worn fabric so her thick dark caramel thighs were on display, and her low-cut t-shirt emphasized a modest but proud cleavage.

I was somewhat taken aback by her flirtation as I'm not tall or particularly handsome, am clueless about fashion, and have a very modest income. Divorced 11 years earlier, with both kids grown, for the past decade I've focused most of my attention on the small environmental non-profit I direct, preferring lonely nights to the pain of rejection by women who are invariably looking for men taller, better dressed and wealthier than I. This unexpected attention from a pretty young girl was quite flattering, if puzzling. When her long fingers would run across my upper thigh, my cock was also flattered but not a bit puzzled, standing straighter with each caress.

After flirting with me through several sets Olivia stood up, said something into Trey's ear, and excused herself to "freshen up." As she left the table Trey leaned across toward me. "She into you, man!"

"I was kind of getting that vibe," I shouted back. "But I'm old enough to be her dad, and she's pretty enough to have her pick of men around here."

Trey winked. "She like white papi. Don't like the bros." He smiled broadly. "Maybe we too big for her," he laughed, grabbing his crotch. Though he was obviously "from the hood," his eyes twinkled, and his demeanor was so friendly and open I couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Maybe I head home now, maybe you drive her home so she don't have to ride the bus alone," he shouted over the din.

"Uh, yeah, whatever she wants." I stammered.

Trey got up. "Oh, she get what she want! And you what she want!" he laughed, draining the last of his whiskey and heading out the door.

As he left, Olivia returned. As she sat down beside me, she nodded at Trey's empty chair. "He gone." She looked at me with a very direct gaze, holding my eyes with hers. She turned in her chair so her body faced me, slowly sliding her long fingers up my legs til they brushed against my swelling cock. She leaned close enough I could smell her, a faint earthy scent that made my cock jerk erect. I've always disliked the cloying sweetness of most perfumes, but hers was the delicate smell of ferns in a wet forest. "I don't like to ride the bus on my own. The men hit on me. You drive me home, Papi? Please?" Her lips traced the edge of my ear before she pulled back to let me see the red stud in the tip of her tongue.

I was lost in the depths of her dark eyes. Beneath long lashes they seemed like huge black pools drawing me down, drowning me slowly and with my full consent. Her nostrils flared slightly, the bridge of her nose blending into prominent cheek bones in an exquisite Cleopatra look. Her full lips parted and I noticed again how white her teeth looked. I found myself leaning forward, unconsciously licking my lips as I thought about how I'd love to run my tongue along her smooth, white teeth.

"Come back, Papi," she laughed, pushing me upright. "We ain't home yet. You ok to drive?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've got another 4 hours to drive tonight, so I've been spacing the drinks out."

Olivia took my hand, pulled me to my feet with surprising ease, and led me through the crowd out into the cold night. "Brrr it's cold!" she exclaimed, pulling me close to her and wrapping my arm around her waist, holding my hand tightly on her full but firm ass cheek. The air in mid-February wasn't overly cold by Chicago standards but the ever-present winter wind between the skyscrapers drove the cold through our jackets, so by the time we reached the parking garage we were both shivering, and my now-puzzled cock was no longer feeling flattered in the least.

I opened the passenger door for her, and she cooed, "Such a gentleman! I like you!" Wrapping her hands around the back of my neck, she pulled my mouth to hers. Her full lips surrounded mine and her surprisingly long, thick tongue plunged to the back of my throat, going so deep I could feel her tongue stud caressing my uvula, pushing it back to block my airway. Holding my head firmly in place against my eventual struggles to breathe, she growled erotically and, releasing me, touched her finger to my lips. "You taste good, Papi. I'm gonna have fun with you!"

My very average-sized cock had reversed its retreat from the winter wind, and was straining to break free from my jeans. I was surprised at my strong sexual reaction to her forceful kiss. I'd never considered myself a submissive in any way, but the idea that she assumed she could have her way with me (and apparently had the strength to do so) was exciting me in a way I'd never been aroused before, so I decided to play along. "Maybe I'll have something to say about that," I retorted, starting to walk around to the driver's door.

She laughed, "You can say what you want, but you will do what I want!" She grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me into another suffocating kiss. "You understand me, Papi? I take what I want. Lucky for you, you'll love what I want." Her forceful but friendly tone had my now fully erect cock leaking and my legs were beginning to wobble. All my previous sexual experiences had been with white women of age and background similar to my own, and the prospect of a young, strong inner-city black woman taking me sexually on her terms was shining a light on areas of my subconscious I didn't know existed.

She released me and pushed me toward my car door. "Come on, Papi. Take me home. We'll have fun, I promise. You ain't never been with a woman like me, I guarantee that. Your mind gonna get blown tonight." 'I hope that's not the ONLY thing that'll get blown tonight!' I thought, but remembering her reaction to my last comment, wisely decided against saying it out loud.

I got in, started the car and turned to her. "Where to?" I asked. "I can plug the address into my phone and get us there pretty quick."

She smiled. "It ain't gonna be quick. I'm on the East Side. It'll take us about an hour to get there. You ok with that?"

"Does it matter if I'm not?" I asked, smiling, and we both burst into laughter. She put her hand on my cheek and turned my head toward her. The hard, dominating look that had been in her eyes earlier had disappeared, and in its place was genuine kindness and warmth.

"Hey, Papi, I like you. You different from most guys I been with. Ain't nothing gonna happen you won't like." She put her hand on my leg, running it up my crotch, under my jacket and under my shirt, where her cold fingertips rested on my nipple. It stiffened instantly with the cold and thrill of her touch. "See? Your body likes me!"

"Oh, my body likes you WAY too much," I groaned. I pulled out of the garage, and she directed me through a maze of streets and highways. As I drove, we talked about her life, and as she began to open up, I was stunned at the depth of her maturity, wisdom and strength.

She was almost 22, at 19 had moved to the East Side to get away from the violence and drug culture of Auburn Gresham where she'd been raised. After a year getting settled on the East Side, she'd gone back home to get her younger brother Trey (3 months younger - I didn't ask about the logistics of that one) away from the crowd he was hanging with, and brought him back to the East Side to live with her.

"I keep him under me," she told me, "Everything closes up at 2, he gotta be home by 3:30. That's an hour and a half to wind down. I keep him on the up and up. He's not gonna end up like my older brothers." Her voice as she talked about her family was so filled with selfless concern, and so devoid of any self-pity in the face of what I would consider almost unlivable circumstances, that I stopped seeing her as an object of sexual desire, and instead as an innocent angel, put on this earth to help her otherwise-doomed brother survive.

"You're a good sister," I commented lamely, putting my hand on her leg with a gentle squeeze to try to communicate the affection I was feeling. She put her now-warm hand over mine, and looked at me with an almost shy smile.

"We're all we got," she said simply.

I asked her about her job, and she replied that she couldn't get work that would even pay her rent, let alone food and electric, and Trey couldn't get any work because of his troubled past. "I'm finishing high school so I can go to college. I'm gonna be a nurse." I asked her how she made ends meet and she looked at me with a straight and honest gaze. "Men like you, Papi."

It hadn't occurred to me that she had saw me as a john, and I felt absolutely stupid for thinking she'd actually been attracted to me. She started laughing at what I assume was the idiotic look on my face. "It's OK, Papi. I like you. You're a good man. You're sweet. I'll be gentle with you. We'll have a good time."

"Look, Olivia," I said awkwardly, "You're a really beautiful woman. I really like you. But I've never paid for sex and I don't think I could live with myself if I made a woman have sex with me for money." I pulled out my wallet. "There's around $500 in here. It's yours. No strings, no sex, just yours. My gift to you, because I've seen who you are, and I love who you are. You're a beautiful young woman, so strong, with so much love in your heart, and this world needs more people like you." There was no way I was going to tell her that cash was all I had to live on for the next month. I just hoped it was enough to minimize the number of times she'd have to go out to pick up "men like me."

She stared at me intently, her lips quivering and eyes glistening. She turned to look straight ahead as a tear slid down her cheek and her fingers gripped my thigh tightly. She wouldn't look at my wallet, so I took out the bills and laid them on her leg. "It's ok baby," I said softly. "People can do things for other people without asking for anything in return. Unconditional love does exist in this universe." I lifted her hand off my thigh and put it over the money, holding it there until I felt her fingers curl to take the paper. I traced the line of her tear with my finger, from her high cheekbone to her jaw, somewhat surprised that her face felt rougher than the silky smoothness of her thigh.

She swiftly grasped my wrist and returned my hand to her leg. "You gotta turn left up here... No, the other left," she laughed as I started right. I laughed along with her, feeling so fortunate to have met this beautiful soul who was shattering my preconceptions about inner-city black life. I turned onto a small street lined with ramshackle bungalows. "Over there," she pointed. "You can park in front of the house."

We pulled into the parking space and I looked at her house. The light was on in the enclosed front porch, and I could see Trey sitting in a chair looking out at us. The house, though modest, was painted, well-kept and neat, a contrast to the houses around it. "I don't need to come in, sweetheart," I said. "I've had a great time with you. Thanks for a great evening. I like you. More than you can ever know."

She got out, slamming her door, and strode around to my side of the car. Opening my door she grabbed my arm and pulled me out. "Oh, you do need to come in, Papi! You're not getting out of here in one piece!" Laughing, she dragged me along behind her through the crusted snow on the walkway. She burst through the door, pulling me in. Trey smiled at me lazily from his chair, and I could smell the weed he'd been burning. Olivia looked at me. "You smoke?"

"Sometimes," I said, "but I have a long way to drive tonight, so I probably shouldn't."

She laughed and pushed me into a threadbare chair. "You got time, Papi. You gonna spend a few hours with me in my home." She packed some weed into a Swisher Sweet wrapper, lit it, took a drag and handed it to me. I inhaled carefully but it went down smoothly. Good stuff. A second, longer toke went down equally well but I could feel the rush coming on so I declined any more. We sat and chatted with Trey for a while but he seemed pretty well out of it. As we talked I looked around. The bungalow was small, I could see the dining room, kitchen, and two doors I assumed led to bedrooms. The furniture was old and worn, and the kitchen cupboards were small, without much storage space for food. She stood and pointed to a door behind the dining room table. "That's the bedroom. Go in there and wait for me."

I went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about the evening, wondering how to balance my need and my desire for her, my respect for her, her pride and her needs. After about 10 minutes she came in and shut the door. She stood there looking at the floor shyly, completely different from the confident amazon she'd been when she pulled me from my car into her house. "Look, Olivia, I need to tell you something," I began. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "The money, it's yours. I think you're an incredibly beautiful, sexy woman but please don't do this because I gave you money. You turn me on like no one I've met, but I want to make sure we only do this if it's what you really want."

She looked up at me uncertainly. "Oh, I want you, Papi. But I like you too much to force you, and I don't think you want someone like me." In reply I stood up, and guided her over to sit on the bed. I put my hands on her thick thighs, feeling the satin skin through the ripped fabric. I spread her legs and kneeled forward, slowly burying my head between her legs, gently blowing hot moist air through her jeans to heat up her pussy. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. "Get these off," she said, gesturing at my clothes. I stood up and quickly turned to disrobe, ashamed of my middle-age potbelly. Turning back I was surprised to see that while she'd removed her jeans and panties, she'd left her shirt on. Kneeling down between her knees, I kissed and licked gently up her dark silky thighs, to her closely trimmed bush where a surprisingly prominent clit nestled between her legs, without any apparent vulva below it. It took me a moment to recognize what I was looking at. Stunned, I sat back on my knees for what seemed like hours but was most likely only a few seconds.

"Surprise!" she said softly, in what had to be the understatement of the year. I looked up at her, seeing the nervous worry in her huge dark eyes, and my shock vanished as my heart melted. There was no way I was going to hurt this beautiful woman's feelings. I smiled up at her, and spread her legs farther apart.

"God, you're beautiful!" I growled, and put my head down, sucking her into my mouth. I'd never had a cock in my mouth before, and had no clue what to expect as far as texture or taste. She was uncut, so I gently ran my tongue around the edge of her foreskin, feeling the texture of the head, the looseness of the skin. There was no taste and no smell, just smooth, dry skin. She'd obviously taken the time to wash thoroughly. Surprisingly, I actually enjoyed the feel of it in my mouth, and it was small enough that I could manipulate her entire cock down to her balls with my tongue. Or so I thought at first.

I could feel the head start to swell as I ran my tongue around it. The base began to thicken and I began to feel the tip begin to touch the back of my tongue. I pulled off her, sucking wetly so there was a loud "pop" as I pulled off her cock head. "Remember, I said you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, baby. Are you sure you want this?" I asked, smiling wickedly. I could see the desire in her eyes, and I could feel her swelling cock pushing against my chin. "Hmmmm? You sure you want this baby?" She lay back on the bed, so her cock was pointing straight up, and pulled my hair sharply to get my mouth back onto her now-quite-respectable cock. I sucked her back into my mouth, surprised to find that the head was pushing insistently against the back of my throat and the base had grown thick enough that I was having a hard time not scraping it with my teeth.

I pulled off again, grabbed her hips and pushed her across the bed so I could climb up and kneel between her legs. ('Yes,' I thought in surprise, 'she is a her, not a he!' I could find nothing of a man about her, even her impressive cock and heavy balls seemed a natural part of the woman she was. I didn't feel anything remotely like the distasteful indifference I'd felt when gay men had come on to me.) Putting my hands under her knees, I lifted her legs to her shoulders so her pucker lifted off the bed. I grasped the large, firm cheeks of her ass, and slowly licked from her balls down her perineum to her cute little anus. There, too, she'd taken the time to clean herself thoroughly. There was no odor or taste that I could associate with the shit or ass smells I'd encountered on some women I'd been with. I breathed in deeply through my nose, and pursing my lips exhaled slowly onto her pucker. She began squirming, and reaching down, grabbed my ears and forced my head into her. I made a hard point of my tongue as best I could, and began burrowing it into her ass.

The intensity of the situation, my desire for her, and the weed combined to make me crazy with lust. I was slurping her ass, pushing as hard as I could, trying to reach her prostate with my tongue. On my forehead, as though reminding me of its existence, her cock began to pulse. I pulled my tongue out of her ass and swallowed her cock in one gulp. It hit the deep reaches of my throat, absolutely filling my mouth so my tongue couldn't move. My nose hadn't yet hit her belly so I forced my head farther down and felt her cock head pop past my larynx into my esophagus. I felt no urge to gag, nothing but the craven need to get her entire body into my mouth. Only when I started to black out from lack of air did I pull off. "I don't know how to breathe when you're all the way down my throat," I told her.