I am Sam Morton and my junior year of college has at last ended. I have a few weeks until the summer term begins. Someday I hope to make something of my life, but for now, I have not. I am a tall slim geeky nerd and my skin is pale white. My arms often have that strange tan line where my shirtsleeves end, trucker arms they call it.
The community pool has just opened for the day and the crowd is small even though the sun is out and the day is supposed to be quite hot. I have been spending my days at the pool staring at nearly naked girls and going home to jerk off. My roommates, Roger, Allen, and Janet, make fun of me for never having a date and my incessant playing with myself. Even though Janet sleeps with Allen, both of them often suggest she help satisfy my needs. I have not yet.
In front of me is Tia Cranston. I saw her yesterday and I whacked off three times last night while thinking about her. She is a few years younger than her appearance might lead you to believe. Tall, graceful, and nicely shaped, she attracts attention with each step. Her uniformly colored dark chocolate skin accentuates her appearance. All I can think of is chocolate sauce with just a little strawberry ice cream showing. I am hungry and ready to lick my way into oblivion. I picture my teeth ripping her tiny tan swimsuit from her delicious body. The fact that she is missing most of her left leg and using crutches to walk does not impede my pursuit.
She stops suddenly and turns. I bump gently into her. "Hey white boy," she sneers. Her voice is raspy and drives me even deeper into my fascination with her. I back up slightly as she turns more and now faces me directly. "I suppose you want to talk to me." Her well-shaped breasts nicely fill top of her skimpy two-piece swimsuit and the crevice between them amply accents her chest.
"I do," I sheepishly said. Even though I am wearing a loose baggy swimsuit, there is no way to hide the bulge in my swimsuit. "Sam I am." I laugh hoping she gets the joke.
"So, can't you see I only have one leg?"
"Does that mean I can't talk to you?"
"Only perverts want to hang around women with one leg. Don't you know that?"
Her left leg ends several inches below her swimsuit in a smooth curve. I am surprised at how shapely it is, at how little scaring there seems to be. As I watch, she moves the short remnant of her leg a few times, or maybe it moves by itself.
"See, you're staring at my stump."
"Actually I was looking at another part of your body."
"What, my pussy? You're not old enough to know what to do with it, are you?"
"I..."
"And I suppose you want me to teach you to fuck. All you white boys think black girls have been fucking since we were ten."
"Actually, when I..."
"Yeah, you think I'm pretty. Goddamn boy; just how old do you think I am?"
"Old enough?"
"Hell yes. I'll have you know I'm twenty and I don't want to teach some white boy how to fuck."
"Maybe I already know how to fuck. Actually, I just want to talk to you. Can I buy you a root beer or something? There're a few empty lounge chairs over there. Maybe we could sit and talk."
The two root beer bottles dangle from the fingers of one hand as I follow her to a few empty lounge chairs as far from everyone as possible. I sit on the cushion in the space where her left leg would have been had she had a left leg.
"Well Sam I am, Tia I am." She laughs as she holds her hand out; her long shapely fingers drape limply downward.
I take her hand and kiss its back. My lips linger and then I shift my lips and apply a second kiss. I do not let go as I lower both our hands and rest them on her right thigh, midway between the swimsuit and knee. Her skin feels warm, smooth, and comfortable.
"What, no girlfriends let you get in their panties?"
"No."
"You a fag? Maybe you should just go off with your boyfriend and fuck him in the ass."
"I'm not a fag. No way!"
My eyes scan her body. Her jet-black hair hangs past her shoulders. Her eyes are brown like her skin. Her smile fills out her wide mouth and exposes her white teeth. Her lips are damp from the root beer and I want to know what it will be like to kiss them dry. Her stump moves farther to the side. I want to know all about it. Tia is a book of mysteries and I want to play detective.
She drags a few fingers over the end of her stump, and then she leaves her hand covering the end. "You're dying to know about this, aren't you?"
"No more than the rest of you."
"Why? You could have hit on any white girl with two legs, but you chose me." Tia's throat bobs a few times as she drinks a large sip of root beer.
"You were right in front of me and I found you exciting. If you had two legs, I would still have talked to you."
She rests the bottle between her legs and I can almost imagine hearing a sizzle. The bottle lies there as she lets her hand stroke the long bottleneck a few times as though she wants it to have an orgasm. Her tongue slips slowly across her lips replacing the trace of root beer with her own wetness.
"So if you could kiss any part of me, what would be first?"
"I bet it is all good. What would be your recommendation?"
"Damn boy, you are a puzzle." Tia pulls the fabric between her legs to one side revealing something that is lovely. A fingertip snags one side of her labia and parts the opening. "How about this?" The pink skin contrasts with the dark brown skin in ways that I had never dreamed about, but now I am. I look around. We are still alone. I tentatively put my fingertip inside and feel the warmth.
