Rae

I know Rae as being a quiet women. I like quiet. She has a voice that's soft, light, silken. Her words are kind, simple and smart. And then there's her body, it shouts suggestive, mischievous, naughtiness, improper.

Rae works evenings at the Trident coffee and second hand book store in downtown Boulder. I don't see her elsewhere, just there. Tonight a fragile cotton sundress clings to her extreme feminine figure. A white dress accented by needle point work of blue at the collar, along side where buttons are sewn and around the hem line. A dress which is in searing contradiction to her black pearl eyes. Adding to her allure are long legs and the low cut cowgirl boots she's wearing, a common site in the city, part Colorado history and part Boulder fashion scene. It's punishing not to stare at Rae, pure chocolate Rae.

I'm a man who adores women of color. And I've been fortunate to have fucked a few, too few. Whenever an attractive black woman seizes my attention my mind impulsively evokes visions of sharply defined pink, extremely pink womanhoods. Womanhoods in striking contrast to the backgrounds of cocoa skin.

I see my cock, my white cock against the dark fill in anticipation of piercing their wet supple openings, relishing them till my thick semen is imposed deep into their chambers only to spill out slow as I make my exits.

Besides handling purchases, it is in Rae's job duties to stock used books by category. Watching her organize and place books in their rightful homes is gratifying. Her squatting, getting down on her knees, up on her toes, bent at the waist, reaching high, makes my dick leak. Depending on her chosen wardrobe for the evening, occasionally a partial breast, her belly or deep inner thigh may become briefly exposed. A peek now will later fuel the hand that strokes my dick till I alone empty myself in the coming nights.

If I was a carny guessing weights and ages at a shopping center parking lot carnival, I would guesstimate her to be 20 years old and 110 pounds. Too I think, maybe 5'7". Her coarse hair is braided long and without extensions, it's all her hair. I know because I've been schooled on hair extensions by a black woman I was fucking last year.

"Those are extensions, not her real hair. Look right there, that's where they attached. That tie in."

Rae's lips are full and extra fleshy. Her opened mouth is enticing, tempting. Her breasts sit high and firm on her chest with an inviting cleavage in jeopardy of being separated by a thick hard-on at any moment.

Unexpectedly one evening she, without warning, sat down quick and hard on the empty chair across from me, so hard my coffee spilled some.

"Hi."

"Hi back." As calm as I could manage. Not acting startled.

"What are you doing later tonight?" She asked.

"I haven't thought that far ahead." Glancing at the clock on the wall while finishing my thought,

"Even though it is, just hours away."

"Could you stay past closing? I'm craving the taste of cum. I'd like it to be yours. Rae continued,

"Ok, see you later then."

Standing as abruptly as she sat down Rae moved to be next to me. She reached for my coffee cup, took a drink and voiced a drawn out,

"Mmmmmm," then casually walked off toward the far side of the room where another pile of books rested on the floor.

She resumed her work sorting and shelving one book after another. I got back to the english grammar book I was studying trying desperately to comprehend when to use a semicolon verses a comma. Too trying to grasp that I was apparently going to bust into Rae's waiting mouth after closing?

I quick like became preoccupied with time. I stared at my Swiss Army. I checked my LG Lotus cell. I searched the antique clock on the wall and the digital clock displayed atop the tool bar of my MacBook Air. I changed the time on my Mac to the 24 hour mode and back again to traditional hours. I even changed what the presentation looked like, analog and one with a stop watch function, irony? Too I compared the hour in different time zones across the globe. When one says,

"Time stood still." or "A minute seemed like hours." I couldn't argue against it.

After waiting longer still as if in a busy ER on a saturday night and too until Rae locked the front and back doors of the cafe, she motioned for me to store myself in the men's room, I did. Then I realized I had to piss anyway, so it was convenient to be there. Again time traveled through mud till finally Rae was at the door saying,

"Come out. Everyone is gone."

The lights were already dimmed. Then she switched off the neon OPEN sign.

"Sit down on the big chair." She whispered.

Like most old cafes, the Trident had random living room furniture placed arbitrarily here and there too.

Rae kneeled before me and placed her hand at my zipper, an obvious small mountain lie below. A volcano stirring with hot white magna that last erupted without my handiwork many months ago.

Rae took hold of my cock and hesitated, waited for my approval. Asked,

"It's good?"

There was no need for her too, but I answered.

"Yes, good."

Her warm slippery mouth cloaked me in spit. She placed a finger near my asshole and brushed at it causing my dick to pulse up to the roof of her mouth repeatedly. Rae took her time, it seemed to be the same length of time I endured waiting for closing time minus the agony.

"I'm ready. It's time for me to taste you. Cum for me."

"Yes, it's time." I knew.

She finished me. The surge I felt made me slide further down into the big chair and then even more. I slid off and onto the floor. She still held my cock firm, her thumb swirling about the head. She didn't stop stroking at me till she was certain I was completely spent.

With my cum clinging to her cheek, some making it's way to her chin, Rae settled back on her bottom and against the bookshelves that faced me. The cum that remained in her mouth she played and made bubbles with. One hand caressed a breast and the other she used to spread her dark labia open to me presenting the brilliant pink I leak for.

Playing with her clit caused copious amounts of shiny juice to spill from her slit. She fingered herself to an exhausting orgasm that made her legs spontaneously press hard together. I masturbated while I watched from my spot on the floor. A spot like box seats at game seven of the world series. I came again soon after she did.

"I want that too, can I have that too." It wasn't a question.

Rae's eyes were fixed on the warm fresh cum sliding down the tight fist I had crushing my cock. She gathered and licked at my batter like it lie at the bottom of a cake mixing bowl. She was determined to get any and all the minuscule traces of my cum that remained.

Satisfied there was no more, Rae rose, straighten her dress about her thighs, took my hand and led me to the back door. Then I was in the alley. I witnessed the last light go out inside the broken brick and weathered wood building.

There was nothing left to do but walk home.

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