byChristian Black©

I discovered one of the apartment's best features after living there less than a month. I had just moved out of a place I was sharing with three other people (that's another story) and was rather enjoying living on my own. It was a little lonely, but even this was a relief after the constant emotional turmoil of my previous situation.

One night, very late, I was reading a book. Sitting right next to an open window because it was a typical steaming Chicago summer night. I happened to catch a flash of light out of the corner of my eye, and when I looked up, I nearly fell off my chair.

The apartment building was U-shaped and my window overlooked the courtyard, across which was the other half of the building. In the apartment directly across from mine, one floor down, I saw a beautiful black woman emerge from her bathroom completely naked, toweling herself off.

My jaw nearly dropped to my knees. The woman was gorgeous, with Amazonian proportions. Tall, broad-shouldered, with fantastic heavy breasts and a great big heart-shaped ass. I'm not typically what you'd call an ass man, but with this girl it was hard not to notice. She had short hair and very dark skin, looked to be about my age (23 then.) I sank back into the shadows of my apartment and watched.

I've never been a lurk-in-the-bushes Peeping Tom type, but I'm not one to ignore a free show, either. I watched the woman for several minutes as she walked around her apartment un-self-consciously, obviously trying to cool off by air-drying. Finally, she crawled into bed, still naked, and turned off the lights, ending that night's performance.

Needless to say, I kept an eye on her windows. Every few nights I would be rewarded. Even when she didn't walk around her place completely nude, she didn't wear much. In the heat, she never bothered to close her blinds either. I became moderately obsessed, and a check of the mailboxes downstairs revealed that her name was Erica Tate.

Also through my observations, I learned that Erica would sometimes have overnight company. Two different guys, who would each come over about once a week. I never watched them get it on because a) I would feel like a total pervert and b) I don't think I could have handled the jealousy of knowing someone else was sharing a bed with my beautiful Erica.

At this time, I was working the graveyard shift at a all-night print shop in Evanston, hence the late nights. I slept during the day, but had a hard time of it with the bright sunlight and the constant city street noise. Of course, hot as it was, I couldn't shut the windows, so I just had to endure the less-than-perfect sleeping conditions.

One day I was awoken at around noon by a car alarm in the alley right behind my bedroom window. I crawled out of bed, grumbling and cursing, totally naked, and stumbled out to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way back to my bed, I passed through the living room, and happened to glance up to see . . . Erica watching me curiously from across the way.

I was too groggy to be embarrassed at my own nudity. Erica saw that I had seen her. She wasn't embarrassed, either. In fact, she actually waved at me. Sheepishly, I waved back, then shuffled back into the bedroom, scratching my skinny white ass.

A couple days later, I was down getting my mail when Erica approached me. She was wearing a tight-fitting white top and black shorts.

"Hey, you live right across from me, right?" she asked.

I answered cautiously, afraid that she was going to complain about either my peeping or my walking the place naked in broad daylight. "Uh, yeah."

"My name's Erica," she smiled.

"Hi, I'm Christian," I said, my heart beating a little fast.

"Yeah, I know, I read it on your mailbox," she said. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

Oh boy, I thought, here it comes. I was sure she was going to ask me if I wanted one of her boyfriends to come over and stomp the shit out of me. But instead, she asked: "You smoke reefer?"

I grinned in relief. As it happened, I had just bought an ounce of some pretty good stuff from a Jamaican guy who worked with me at the print shop. I told this to Erica. She said that she had run out and her usual supplier was out of town, and then she asked me if she could buy a little bit off me.

"Sure," I said. Hardly believing my luck, I led Erica up to my apartment.

I poured a good quarter of my ounce into a separate baggy and told Erica she could have it for nothing. She insisted, though, that she had not come up looking for free weed and tried to pay me twenty bucks. Finally, we compromised at ten, what I called a "friendly neighbor" price. The deal struck, Erica asked if we could smoke a joint.

Of course, I did not hesitate. The pot relaxed both of us and we were soon talking and laughing like we'd known each other for a long time. Erica had a talent for doing spot-perfect impressions of other people who lived in the building, and she got me laughing hard doing her versions of Mr. Yamaki, the old Japanese guy who walked his little terrier at odd hours, or Mrs. Washington, who lived underneath Erica and always complained about the noise. By the time she got around to Bob the handyman, who always flashed the crack of his ass whenever he bent over to fix something, I had tears running down my face.

We were sitting pretty close on my couch, despite the heat, and I was getting pretty aroused by the proximity of such an attractive girl. I don't know if Erica was turned on, too, but I can say that her nipples were hard. In fact, they were like little bullets poking through her shirt. This made it very difficult to look her in the eye.

She caught me looking and followed my gaze.

"Will you look at that?" she said. "Tittie hard-on again. I swear, I could wear a padded bra, a wool sweater and a jacket and those things would still poke through. Raphael says I got nipples of steel."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," I said.

"Bullshit," Erica laughed hard at that one. She leaned even closer. On impulse, I kissed her.

She was a little surprised at first, and I was afraid I'd made a terrible mistake, but then she started kissing me back. I loved the way her full lips moved against mine.

"Damn," she said when we pulled apart. "You're a bold one."

I shrugged, tingling all over. The first time you kiss anyone is always mind blowing.

"You ever kiss a black girl before?" she asked.

"No," I said. "You ever kiss a white boy?"


"Well, what'd you think?"

"I don't know," Erica said. "Let's try it again."

We kissed deeply for several minutes. I wanted so badly to put my hand on her fabulous breasts and to feel for myself those hard points of flesh, but I wasn't THAT bold. Eventually, Erica took my hand and forcibly placed it right on her breast. I stroked her and kissed her hungrily.

"Wait a minute," she said, pulling away slightly. "Sorry, but could we slow down a little bit?"

"Sure," I said. If this took all night, I wouldn't mind.

"Thanks," she said. We finished off the joint, not saying much.

"So," Erica finally spoke. "I'm curious. What do white boys like? In a girl, I mean. Do they like tits? Ass? What?"

"Well," I said, extinguishing the roach in an ashtray. "I can't speak for all the white boys in the world, but personally I've always gone for . . . hairy armpits."

"What?" Erica gaped in disbelief. "You are not serious."

"Oh yes," I nodded. "Nothing turns me on more."

"That's nasty," she made a face.

"To each his own," I said.

"I ought to hook you up with my cousin Sheila. She looks like she's got the Buckwheat brothers in a double headlock. She's into white dudes, too. Got a thing for big feet. I think she's a little fucked up in the head."

"Really," I laughed.

"Sorry to disappoint you, baby, but I shave my pits every day. My legs, too. The only thing I don't shave is my pussy."

Just hearing her say the word "pussy" was enough to make my mouth water.

"That's all right," I said. "I think you're beautiful, anyway."

I kissed her again and soon we were making heavily, pawing at each other. My hand slid between her legs. I could feel how wet she was even through her shorts.

"I gotta be crazy," Erica said when she pulled away. "My mama always said she's rather I be a dyke than be with a white guy."


"Yeah," Erica teased me, her lips inches from mine. "But I don't always do what my mama says."

"Have you ever been with a girl, then?" I had to ask.

"Shit," Erica laughed. "One time, this girl Crystal and me, we were drunk and high and she asked me if she could eat my pussy."

"Did you let her?"

"I never say no to getting my pussy ate."

"Really," I said, getting down on my knees without hesitation. Erica obliged me by peeling off her shorts and spreading her legs. I was face-to-face with a black girl's pussy for the first time in my life. I leaned forward and went to work.

"Is it different from a white girl's pussy?" Erica gasped.

"Mmm," was all I could say. In fact, all girls tasted different. It was my favorite thing, going down on a girl for the first time. Some girls tasted sweet, but Erica's cunt had a winey kind of taste, with a hint of some kind of exotic spice. Like curry or cloves. Lines from an old Rolling Stones song came helplessly to mind.

I drank her dark juices and felt her kinky hairs scratch my nose as I sucked on her fat clit, which grew bigger and bigger under my lips and tongue until it was like sucking on a little dick. She grabbed the back of my head and smashed my face into her fragrant dripping pussy when she came.

I sat up, grinning and wiping my face.

"You do that pretty good, white boy," Erica smiled.

"I heard that black guys don't like doing that," I said. "Is that true?"

Erica shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Raphael won't go near it with his mouth. But my boy Greg eats my pussy and my asshole and loves it. So that means that Greg gets his dick sucked and Raphael don't."

"Huh," I said.

"So is it true what they say about white boys?" Erica asked.

"What's that?"

"That they've got little penises."

I was feeling very bold now. "Judge for yourself," I said, tearing my own pants down.

Erica laughed. "Well, it's no whale, but then it's not a minnow, either."

I wasn't sure how I should take that comment, but then Erica leaned over and wrapped her lips around me and I decided it didn't matter.

"Don't come, now," she cautioned before she went to work.

I moaned out loud as she sucked expertly. Just as I felt the first shivers of oncoming orgasm, she sat up.

"There," she said. "That got it nice and big."

"Does it taste different than a black guy's dick?"

"Dick is dick, honey," Erica said. "Now, you got any rubbers?"

"Yeah," I said. Thank God.

"Put one on," she said. "I don't want any white babies. I'd be disinherited."

Erica rolled over and stuck her great black ass into the air while I pulled a condom out of my wallet. My hands were shaking so bad it was hard to put it on.

"Hurry up," Erica told me as I struggled. "Ram it into me, white boy."

Finally I got the condom pulled on. I slid into her dripping black snatch and felt it wrap tightly around me.

"Oh," we both moaned simultaneously.

She pulled her top off as I fucked her from behind. I reached around to fondle her heavily pendulous breasts, then ran my white hands all over her beautiful chocolate skin. Then I grabbed her ass, which filled both my hands. She grinded back into me and I could tell she was about to come.

"Yes," she cried out. "Oh, God yes! Fuck it! Fuck it hard! Fuck my cunt!"

Hearing her nasty, dirty talk was all it took to get me off. I filled the condom so full I was afraid it was going to pop inside of her. I kept humping her until the spasms subsided, then I pulled out, weak and exhausted.

"Not quite done yet," she said. "God damn it."

She reached her hand between her legs and squeezed her fat clit between her fingers. I watched in awe. Watching this beautiful black girl masturbate herself until her cunt twitched and spurted was one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed.

When she was finished, Erica stood up and got dressed. I was too wiped out to even pull the cum-filled rubber off my dick. She kissed me sweetly on the cheek.

"Thanks, Christian," she said. "I was always curious about white boys. Thanks for the reefer, too."

She was heading out the door.

"Hey, wait," I said feebly. "Do you want to maybe go out to a movie sometime? Or dinner?"

She shook her head. "Not a good idea. But, you know, I'm going to take a shower tonight about nine before I go out. Maybe you can check me out, I know you like to watch."

With that, she was gone. I saw her from time to time after that, both casual meetings down by the mailbox, and voyeuristic glimpses through her window. Sometimes she would lay on her bed and get herself off, and I think she knew I was watching. We never had sex again, though. Apparently, fucking a white guy was an exotic kick she would try once, like lesbianism.

She moved out of her apartment a few months later, and I never saw her again. Too bad, she was the best neighbor I ever had.

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