White Freshman, Black Coeds Ch. 24

This was new for us, me on top, but I "plunged in," so to speak. Nia gobbled me into her mouth hungrily as I tried to find her clit with my tongue, then with hands on my hips she pushed up and down, indicating I should thrust into her mouth. So I did, and pretty forcefully, my lips and tongue finally having gotten situated on her pussy.

Her foreplay had me so incredibly close that it wasn't long before I was blasting that pent-up load into her mouth and down her throat. She made hungry swallowing noises that were soon followed by the moans and screams of her own orgasm. She bucked her hips against my mauling mouth as I pumped squirt after glorious squirt of hot cum into her mouth.

When I was done, she was still carrying on, and she pushed me off of her and turned around to hang her head off the front of the seat, her legs straight up on the back window, one hand rubbing her cunt, the other pinching nipples.

"Shove it in my throat!" Ever willing to oblige a lady, I did. With just one preparatory foray to let her get her throat positioned right, in the next push I plunged it all the way in, tracking the progress of the head down her slender neck. Shit that was hot! Nia must've thought so too, because she quickly had another orgasm, more powerful than the first.

I started to pull out, but her hands flew to my hips, pulling me back into her. Then she resumed mauling pussy and tits as she came around my dick. Finally she did ease me back and out, and then huge gasps of air followed, as if she'd just burst up from a great depth of water. I turned her to be longways on the seat, then collapsed on my bottom onto the floor beside her, my right arm across her torso.

She threw an arm around my back, but otherwise just panted loudly and made little mewling sounds. I simply held onto her, feeling her chest heave and the after-twitches of her orgasm. And I didn't feel guilty about deep-throating her (only our second time, since the lesson/practice with Rita). Mainly because she'd asked for it herself. But it had been incredible, and I could still envision it sliding down her throat, distending it along the way, and still feel the snugness as my whole manhood was enveloped by her loving mouth.

"I bet that harlot Myra didn't do that for you!"

"Sweetheart, I doubt she could've done that for me! You're incredible, you know that?

She said she knew, and we both laughed and I climbed up onto the seat/couch/bed beside her. We cuddled and kissed and hugged and talked about silly things. Finally it was time to take her back. As we parted on the porch she told me I'd better study. "And oh, watch out for temptresses!" And with that she bounded inside, my eyes following that perky dancer's butt.

11/8 Tuesday

>>>"Beware: spontaneity!" you nailed that one.

>And "overthinker" fits you to a tee. Not that that's bad.

>In fact, it's a good balance between us, don't you think?

>>>I do. See you for lunch.

Those were our answers for question 86, If you came with a warning label, what would it say? From Rita's homework assignment, 100 Questions to Get to Know Your Partner Better. We still did that most every day, either in person or by text.

[Literotica has primitive formatting capabilies, so the arrows are meant to mimic the left/right of a text exchange. Three for messages sent, one for those received.]

I went to the girls' house with a new starter solenoid I'd picked up from NAPA yesterday and put it on. The car was unlocked so I was able to pop the hood and do it, but when it was time to test it I went and knocked on the door to see if anyone was home to give me the keys. Candace answered.

"Hey, Mark! What are you doing here?" She scanned the small porch and my minivan, looking for Nia I guess.

"Can I hold your car keys? I just put the new part on the car and need to test it."

"You did?! You're so sweet! Here," she said, snatching them from the keyholder by the door. I said thanks and turned to go try it. When I opened the door of the car I was facing the house and could see Candace still in the doorway, watching expectantly.

I slid into the driver's seat and inserted the key, saying a silent prayer to the Car Gods that the car would start, and rurr, rurr, rurr, VROOM! It started and then settled down to a nice idle. Candace was clapping her hands, jumping up and down, and giving me two thumbs up. I'd be lying if I told you I didn't think about what kind payment-in-kind I could get from this beautiful woman, but I suppressed all that and turned the car off, taking the keys back to her.

"Mark you're so awesome! Thank you SO much!" She hugged me tight, her breasts mashing firmly into my chest through my thin jacket. Those thoughts came back... And only got stronger when she invited me in for a hot chocolate. I tried to demur, but she insisted, and I'd long since learned that when a woman insists, it's best to go along. So I followed "dat ass" [a callback to what Keisha had called it] into the house. Terrycloth shorts and barefooted, her powerful thighs and calves on lovely display. It was getting harder to resist those thoughts, if you know what I mean.

"So just 2 more weeks until you Meet the Parents, isn't it?" She was microwaving two mugs of milk and getting the Swiss Miss packets ready.

"Yeah....."

"Are you nervous?" She turned to look at me with concern, her big brown eyes so perceptive, as always.

"Yes, very. I mean, I've never met any girl's parents, and now I'm about to meet Nia's black parents, and me lily-white. And her dad already doesn't like me, just because I am white."

"That is a lot of pressure!" She laughed ruefully as the microwave dinged, so she turned to grab the mugs and bring them and the packets and two spoons over to the table, settling in across from me.

"Well don't let him or any of them intimidate you! You're an upstanding young man with good prospects and honorable intentions for their daughter, so just let them know that in how you speak and carry yourself. They're just worried about their little girl is all, especially her Dad. Dads are like that, and...."

We talked for about 30 minutes before I had to leave for my 11 o'clock. Having been through the "meet-her-parents" phase a few times herself, she coached me on how to handle myself. And then more importantly, she gave me some specific insights for a white man meeting a black girl's parents. Not that she had personal experience with that, but her being black was probably experience enough, and she gave me lots of useful advice.

Finally, I had to go and I thanked her SO much for her time and all the great things she'd shared with me. I felt much better about it now. Almost like I could actually do it now without flubbing it up. We hugged again, and she said in my ear that she was proud of and confident in me. When she pulled away she wiped her eyes a little, and then I had to wipe mine.

Then with a kiss on the cheek and a bright smile she shooed me out the door, thanking me yet again for the "starter thingy." (I'd let her give me back the $15 for the solenoid but wouldn't take anything for labor. Her talk with me had been worth far more than that.)

-------------------------------------------

"Baby, you were crazy as Myra Sunday!"

"Thanks, babe. Can I have some of your fries?" That was her way of saying she didn't want to talk about it. As she'd said after role-playing Felicia from Domino's with me: "Let that be between you and Felicia." She'd been willing to talk about Simone St. Claire after the two times she'd channeled her, but she was in her 40's, so I figured that was so far from who she was that she didn't mind talking about it.

But Felicia had been 18, and Myra was probably 18-20, and both were thin and black, so maybe they were too close to Nia's true self for her to want to talk about those characters. I didn't really know, but I did know that this was a fascinating young woman I'd become entangled with.

"Has your dad gotten any more used to the idea?"

A pained expression briefly crossed her face. "Mama's workin' on him. It'll be alright though." She took me by the upper arm and laid her head against my shoulder. "I do hope he's going to be able to get past your skin color and see the sweet young man inside." She sat up to look at me. "Like I do." Then she gently kissed me on the lips.

We walked through the Engineering building on the way to her dance class, but the railroad tie experiment was done. It was still clamped in its pylons, but fractured irregularly across the middle: they'd found out how many fatigue cycles it could stand. At the Performing Arts building I walked her all the way down to the dance studio/classroom instead of just leaving her at the front steps this time.

"You said you're not working tonight? Can you meet me back here at 5?"

"Yeeees...." Wary of what her intentions with me were, and remembering the last time in the dressing room behind the main stage.

"Not for that, silly! I want to see how you are at dance. Dance dance. Like Sheila said, we're always needing male dancers." My body language was saying I wasn't really interested, but her face was so pleading, so hopeful.

"I don't know, love. Dance isn't really my thing..."

"I know, but maybe just try it? .... For me?" And she gave me the puppy dog eyes. Totally unfair!

"Okay, I'll try it. But only for you!"

She squealed in delight and hugged and kissed me, then pulled away to go, saying over her shoulder, "I'll make it up to you!"

"You'd better!"

At 5 I was back at the dance studio. I peeked in and Nia and another girl built about like her were on the padded floor practicing some kind of routine. A couple girls were over at their desks packing up their books and things. If this class was like all of mine, it had probably let out at ten till, which would explain why most of the girls had gone already. I walked over to Nia, who'd already seen me in the mirrors and waved me in.

"Baby! You came!" She literally jumped in my arms, her feet off the ground, and kissed my cheeks noisily. I saw Sheila looking on, smiling.

"Alright, alright! No need to be so excited..."

"Mark, you remember—"

"Sheila, your "best friend outside the House." Enchanted, my dear," as I bowed slightly. She offered me her hand the "girlish" way, which I took and kissed lightly, the way I'd seen my boss Brian kiss Nia's hand.

"Girl, you'd better keep an eye on this one! He's smoooooth." She stretched it out like that, a real boost to my ego.

"Oh don't you worry! We had a talk Sunday about what might happen to him if ever messes around with some other girl." Then looking pointedly at me, "Didn't we, baby?" All sweet, dripping with honey.

"Yes ma'am, we did!" Nia giggled and I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her over for a kiss on the forehead. I'd had time to go back to my room and put on sweats and a t-shirt. "So what would you have me do, mi amor?"

"Pick Sheila up." I looked at Sheila bashfully, but she was looking back at me "some kind of way."

"Ummm..."

"Just stand behind her and put your hands on her waist, and when she jumps, you lift. Try it."

So I got behind Sheila and we tried it. The timing was off on the first one, but after 3 tries we got it, and I was holding her by the waist in front of and above my face. I'll let you work out where her protruding booty was.

"Good job! Now do me."

"Right here in front of Sheila??" Wordplay, I'm addicted to it.

She rolled her eyes at Sheila and said, "See what I have to put up with?" She stood in front of me. "One, two, three!" She jumped as I lifted, and we got it pretty good on the first try. After one more to dial it in she said, "This time when you're holding me up I'm going to lay back. Don't let me fall!"

So I hoisted her again and she rolled herself back in my hands, arching her back impossibly far, one leg bent down and the other knee pulled up toward her chest. It was very graceful, what I could see of it. Which was mainly her little butt right in front of my face, scrunched up into a sensual hemisphere, like that morning in the hotel with Rita when she'd stretched into a beautiful backwards C shape right in front of me as I still lay on the bed.

Sheila applauded. "Me next!" And for the next maybe hour we practiced all kinds of ways of me picking the girls up, or them hanging off of me, and I don't know what all. My favorite one was when Sheila faced me with her hands on my shoulders and I picked her up by the waist, her hands staying on my shoulders, arms locked straight. I could've leaned my head back and up and kissed her. But more enticingly, this position let me look straight into her low-cut leotard top, between her smallish breasts, and down to her rock-hard stomach. Yummy.

When they were done I talked them into learning the first tae kwon do form, Il Jang. It's a simple one with just straight steps, down blocks, middle blocks, straight punches, and two front kicks. The girls were awkward with it, of course, but they enjoyed the front kicks, which was more what they were used to from dance.

It was getting late and we were all hungry, so Sheila invited us over to her dorm building. We got gyros from the little shop just across the street from the Performing Arts building, then just a couple blocks down was her dorm. And I know what you're thinking (because I was thinking the same thing), but no, we just settled into the common area and watched whatever movie was on the big screen and ate our gyros. But it was fun because it was a girls' dorm, so I got looked at a lot, sitting there as I was with these two black hotties.

We spent at least an hour there, talking about all kinds of things. One being her boyfriend "back home," so I mostly stopped thinking of her that way. But of course, I invited her to the coffee house Friday night, unless something better came up. I still hadn't decided what I was going to sing at karaoke my second time, better work on that. But I liked Sheila, I thought she was nice, like Nia was nice. Friendly and caring. Genuine, I think. That was it.

I walked Nia back to the House and she invited me inside to warm up, but I didn't want to see anyone else just then, so I kept her on the porch even though it was chilly.

"Nia, I love you so much it makes my heart hurt. But more than that, I like you. As a girl, sure, but more as a person. You're just so thoughtful and caring, genuinely interested in people, and so interesting yourself." Nia was looking at me with appreciation, but also wondering what I was on about. But I couldn't stop talking, there were just so many things I wanted her to know.

"I've never met anyone like you, let alone be friends with them. And well, you're the only person I've been this close to since my Mom died (sorry, Dad, but I mostly remembered Mom), "and I just wanted you to know how much that means to me, that you saw something in me worth caring for, even worth loving, I guess."

I had to stop talking, and Nia wrapped herself around me, holding me tight, comforting me. Nurturing me it felt like.

"I can't imagine what it's been like for you for the past 10 years, Mark, but I'm glad we found each other. Or rather that we were brought together like we were. Of course I care for you, and of course I love you. How could I not? What I see in you is so beautiful, so wonderful: a smart, sensitive, caring guy who would do anything for anyone, and is nice to everyone. And I mean everyone, white or black or whatever."

I sniffled and hugged her tighter. "I'm just scared of....of losing you I guess. I know you care for me a lot, but your parents...especially your dad, what if he forbids you to see me anymore? Forbids you to date outside your race? I—"

"He won't. And if he tries to I'll talk him out of it. Don't worry about this, baby, they're going to love you. Even him, when he gets to know you. Please try to stop worrying?"

I told her I'd try, and after a time of rubbing foreheads and nuzzling noses I let her go inside. I walked back to my place, still dreading meeting her parents, despite what she'd said to me. The idea of her dad refusing to let her date me anymore had lodged itself in my mind and wouldn't let me be.

11/10, Thursday

"I feel better about it after talking to Rita last night. She's always so insightful and to-the-point, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she has a way of getting to the heart of a thing, that's for sure."

"Granted, she didn't grow up in America, so she doesn't really know what it's like to be a black person here, with the background of slavery and Jim Crow and all that, but still, she made some good points."

"Well like she said, Nigeria had been ruled by the British for like 80 years before they became independent, so there was a lot of that same kind of power dynamic."

"Hey, can we leave here a little early? There's another experiment going on in the Engineering building I want you to see."

"Oh yeah, that sounds great..."

"Hey you! I came and danced with you and Sheila the other night, didn't I? Tit for tat."

Nia's expression suddenly changed for the better. "Tit for tat, huh?" Her eyes looked hungry, and she surreptitiously squeezed one breast. I'd used the phrase on purpose, hoping for just such a reaction. It had been 4 days since we were last intimate, an eternity for horny college kids.

"Time enough for that this weekend. I really want you to see this weathering experiment."

Her arousal instantly vanished, and her eyes glazed over. "Oh yay, a weathering experiment. I haven't seen one of those in ages..."

"That's about how I felt about dancing, so you owe me!"

"Oh you felt more excited about the dancing than I do this! I saw the way you looked at Sheila." She played mock-hurt, pouting.

Helping her up, I took her under my arm. "What can I say? She's a pretty girl, and she's built a lot like my favorite dancer." I pulled her tight and she giggled and put an arm around my waist.

Inside the Engineering building we walked through the center of the ground floor and Nia kept looking from side to side wondering where the experiment was, but there was no sound and nothing was moving. I told her it was upstairs, and as we approached the clankety old freight elevator I saw an Out of Order sign on it.

"Shoot, I guess we're climbing. Ladies first!" The old-timey metal stairs were right next to the elevator.

"You're so chivalrous, Mark. I trust this has nothing to do with watching my bottom as I climb these stairs."

I grabbed and turned her as she mounted the first step, which put us eye to eye. "My dear, I'm shocked that there should be any doubt about that: it has everything to do with me watching your bottom!" She giggled and kissed me, then took to the stairs with an exaggerated swaying of her hips. As Trey would say, mmm-mmm-MMM!

As we emerged on the 3^rd floor I turned us right, then with a quick glance around the mezzanine and seeing no one in sight, I hustled her into the Special Needs restroom that was right there on the corner. I quickly threw the deadbolt, then pulled her into me from behind, holding her by one breast and her blue-jeaned crotch, which I began to rub forcefully.

"Mr. Livingston!" She mock-protested, all hoity-toity like, "clutching her pearls" as it were. "I will not be man-handled in this way!"