Karen was always the competitive type, always up for a new challenge. She grew up in the South, Texas to be exact, where everything is bigger and football is king. In high school she was a JV cheerleader for a bit, and while she enjoyed the eye-candy on the field, and even a bit in the girl's locker room, she was drawn to competitive sports; track and field and tennis. She enjoyed knowing that she was the only person responsible for her success or failure at the end of the day, unlike the group sports. In college she studied marketing and continued to compete as a distance runner—her body was made for it; lean, toned muscles, medium sized- breasts, slender, but not "skinny". Karen moved like a cat; graceful and purposeful, intent, focused.
After graduation she landed her first real job with a marketing firm in Dallas and was ecstatic. There was a healthy mix of people her age up to baby-boomers; different races, outlooks on life, and backgrounds. Karen loved variety, and learning about new people, places, making new friends and acquaintances, and stretching her comfort zone with new experiences. And it was nice to see a few people that looked like her—Karen was bi-racial with a white mother and black father. She grew up in a mostly white neighborhood and school, attended a somewhat mixed, but largely white rural college. Now she was in the big city. Her co-workers were all different shades of humanity, dark and light flesh, skin that burned in the Texas sun, and skin like hers that deepened in color.
A year passed and friendships formed in the office. Grace turned into a close friend quickly. Similar in age; Karen 23 and Grace just three years older-similar interests; exercise for one (Karen trading in running for yoga), drinks with other young professionals on the weekend, and Michael. The only difference being, Grace had Michael, and Karen did not. There were other men in the office, but Michael was special—very dark-skinned, above average height, broad shouldered, muscular, and hard-bodied. He was aware of his stature and never used it to intimidate other men. Michael was an alpha, an alpha that did not need to tell you he was one. There were a few attractive women in the firm too—Karen had experience with a woman in college; she had a few play dates with a track and field teammate—nothing too serious, just light breast-play, kissing, but not even with tongues. She was curious about women, had never tasted a vagina—maybe she never would, and that was OK with her. Her body craved men far more. Lean, stocky, tall and thin, short and bulky, as long as they were fit, moderately attractive, kind to her, and generous lovers—i.e. would return oral favors. If a man could check those boxes for Karen, she would open herself to him gladly.
Grace and Michael were the quintessential cute couple—-Michael's hardness was balanced by her soft curves, rounded backside, generous handful sized breasts, fair Irish skin, a few extra pounds, but still in shape with a suggestively sized mouth and dark-red hair. Her lips looked like they were on fire when she wore lipstick—even a subdued red made her mouth the screaming exclamation point to her broad white lightly freckled face. Karen loved it when she wore Dragon Girl, so bold, so unashamed. Secretly, of course secretly, Karen wondered what that bright hue of red looked like on Michael—not his lips, not his neck from Grace's kisses, but at the base of his penis. His skin was so dark—would it show up? And how big was Michael anyhow? Karen had never had a black man. She made out with one on the high school football team but that was years ago and the chemistry wasn't there—they just didn't click. Were the rumors true? Karen watched her share of porn; threesomes, some orgies, nothing rough or humiliating, just something to toy herself to in between boyfriends mainly. The black guys looked gifted to be sure—but then again so did a lot of the white guys.
In one of those in between boyfriend times, Grace and Michael asked Karen to come over to the house for drinks after work on a Friday. Nothing unusual. This happened about once per month. The last text from Grace was a bit odd though. The messages were the typical who will bring what, what movie they'd watch, would any other friends show up etc. But the last message, the last one didn't make sense: "No, haven't brought it up yet, maybe tonight?" Karen didn't reply. Maybe it was a mistake, a typo, or maybe meant for someone else.
Either way the night started off as usual: Karen showed up in a yellow and white sundress, hair pulled up off her neck and shoulders, her go-to seashell choker necklace, and her favorite open-toed flats. A bottle of white in hand, she knocked and Grace opened the door. She was radiant and pulled Karen in for a close hug, sending a quick electric charge down her smooth-skinned back when Grace's broad nipples grazed her own. For a second Karen thought she could smell sex on Grace, the scent of a woman that recently came, and was recently filled with warm cum herself. Perhaps she was just on edge, Karen not having been filled by cock in a month now. Even so, something was different about Grace, but Karen dropped the thought and gave her attention to a beaming Michael who came strolling out of the kitchen wearing a waist-high apron and using a dish towel to dry his meaty hands.
One bottle of white, another bottle of white, laughter, talk about quirky co-workers and bosses, dreams of going solo in the marketing field, what vacation plans this summer. A perfect Friday night. Though, Karen did notice her friends found every opportunity to slip in a double entendre, any small opening she gave them would invariably be filled with a playful quip about being well-hung, or something that is better when wet. Karen was no prude, certainly not. She knew her way around a dildo, how to make herself climax watching a clip of a woman filled with man in mouth and pussy. But, this was a new experience for her from these two. A welcome experience to tell the truth. Michael gathered up a few dishes and went to the kitchen—for a long time, an unusually long time.
Grace started, "so I know something about you."
"What is that?" Karen asked.
"You love a good challenge."
"True, I do at times" Karen agreed.
"And, you don't give up easily"
"What are you saying Grace?"
"Well, I also remember you told me you messed around with women in college and may have an adventurous side."
Karen corrected her, "No no, 'wo-man'. Singular. I am curious, just way more into men. But yes, you can say I am open-I keep my options open."
"Oh, ok, I get you. So do you want to know something about me?"
"Of course."
"I like to watch," Grace stated matter of fact.
"What do you mean," asked Karen. "Watch what?"
"Oh come on, don't play dumb with me, you know what I mean," Grace insisted.
"Ummm, OK, so you like to watch porn, orrrr, Michael..."
Grace interrupted, "Yes and yes. Both. Porn and Michael with other women."
"Oh my, I never knew that," Karen laughed, but without a trace of taking offense.
"Well, now you do," Grace said nonchalantly.
Both women shared a quick laugh and locked eyes, Karen kept eye-contact a bit too long, Grace held her stare, gave a wicked smile, cocked her head to one side, raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the kitchen. In Karen's mind the kitchen transformed into a stable for a stud...her stud. Well, not hers, Grace's, but tonight Michael was going to fill Karen—she wasn't sure how, where, or with what, but he was going to fill her.
"He's hot," Karen blurted out.
"I know," Grace nodded, "and big. Not too big, but big enough. A solid 9 inches of dark uncircumcised fun. Thigh-shaking, orgasmic fun." Grace paused for a moment, gave a mischievous grin and said, "We had something in mind."
Karen gave an uncomfortable laugh. She could feel her clit swelling and imagined what it looked like glistening, trapped behind her matching yellow panties. "OK what is that?" she asked.
