Readers comments and feedback are always appreciated.
This was my very first erotic story, from over a year ago. Hope you enjoy the seed that started it all.
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Washington DC, April, 1945
Tears rolled down Isaac’s cheeks as the caisson bearing the body of the president rolled past his position amongst the crowd of mourners. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a man who brought the country out of the depths of the Depression only to be thrust into war, a war which once raged over half of the world- now seemed temptingly close to being drawn to a bloody close. Isaac was sad to see the great leader succumb to the ailments and frailties of a regular man. Isaac stood out amongst the crowd of on lookers, not just because he was a head taller than the rest or that his clothes were a bit shabbier. No, Isaac was different from the gallery of white faces lining the streets of Americas capital because he was black. And while the District of Columbia had more black residents per mile, this part of the capital was exclusive to the white power brokers, generals and social elite, of war time America. He only stopped to pay his respects to the President while on his way rushing home from work as a janitor at a government office building.
The 18 year old man had been 4F the draft of the segregated military. His right eye gone bad after his father try to stab his mother ten years before, Isaac intervened and took the straight razor on the cheek. It was only a glancing blow but the stainless steel edge sliced him across the eye. Now partially blind, Isaac had poor depth perception and suffered dizzy spells. Undeterred Isaac tried his best to lead a normal life. So while stories of heroic drivers of the "Red Ball Express" and fliers from Tuskegee filtered back, Isaac busied himself collecting rubber and metal for scrap drives. Isaac did his part to help the home front, while not perfect, free and running until the boys could come home.
With the cortege passing Isaac let his eyes drift down and wander away from the procession. From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of bright blonde hair. He looked at a woman, petite, standing a few feet away, also watching the procession. Isaac quickly turned his gaze away for fear a white man may see his innocently admiring glance of the women near him. Since age ten, and his primary school teacher, Miss Delany, Isaac held secret crushes on ladies not of his own color. But this taboo he never admitted it to anyone. Dating only black girls from the neighborhoods, yet when he went to the movies his fantasy women were white, with Veronica Lake and Rita Hayworth his favorites. He’d go home wash up and lay in his rickety bed masturbating, imagining what it would be like to make love to a white woman, not just Veronica or Rita, but any white woman. Not that they were any different, he smiled, but more exciting-something different.
Drifting off in a flight of fancy, Isaac didnt notice the crowd was breaking up, their jostling snapping him to attention. He stopped and turned, hoping maybe to see the woman again, he did. She was looking through her purse, attention occupied with the search. He was smitten by her grace and elegant beauty. She was easily half his height, wearing a grey rayon dress suit, the fashion for the time, hair done up in a style that left some long curls trailing near her face. Her face was radiant, mature, Isaac guessed she was in her thirites. She reminded him of his grade school teacher, then he felt that twinge again. His eyes danced down her figure, and what a figure she had. Slim waist, voilin shape and very well endowed for her diminutive height. The front of her jacket stretched, what was underneath was too big to be proportional to her short frame. Her legs were short, gentle curves with an eyebrow pencil drawn seem, giving the illusion of silk stockings that were hard to come buy during the war.
Finishing his quick survey, Isaac turned away to walk towards his bus stop a half a block away. His thoughts preoccupied by the sensuality of the woman he had observed from afar.
"I’ll have plenty of fuel for my fantasies tonight," quipping to himself.
With his mind thoroughly engage, Isaac did not see the on rushing truck as he stepped out into traffic in the trance like state. The blare of the horn warned him just in time as the gleaming chrome bumper clipped his knee cap. Isaac screamed in pain,flailing backwards onto the sidewalk. His head smacked against the pavement as the trucks brakes locked up with a squeal. People quickly gathered around the fallen black man, his dazed vision trying to look for help, his bad eye growing dimmer, he wanted to cried. No one was helping him they just stood around or stopped, only to walk away. His groans grew louder. Still no help, he could see a man run over.
"Shit I hit him!" The man said in an excited voice
Another blurry figure stood by, "Ah don’t worry, it’s only a Negro."
The truck driver looked back at Isaac, then the bigoted passerby, from whom he took encouragement from,"Yeah, I guess you’re right."
Now the tears began to flow form Isaac’s eyes, desperately alone, in a crowd full of people. Slowly the crowd dispersed. Then came a piercing voice, the sharp authoritative tone of a woman.
"What is wrong with you people! Can’t you see this mans hurt!" The woman’s voice shouted. Isaac opened his good eye, trying to focus on who had finally came to his aid. As his pupil readjusted, he was overwhelmed by the site of the glowing blonde.
She knelt down beside him, trying to hold up his head, with the bigot shouting at her, "Let the guy be lady. What’s wrong with you!?"
Isaac felt her palm cradle his head, while her other hand wiped the blood from his face. She whispered to him, "Don’t worry, just ignore these people sir. You’ll be all right."
Her voice bathed Isaac in an instant calm, but suddenly gripped him in panic. What would happen when the police arrived. They’d see this beautiful white woman cradling a black man in the street. They’d take him to jail, he knew it, say he was drunk. With unsteady feet,Isaac tried to stand. "Uh I, I’m fine, I can walk thanks." Isaac tried to stumble away but collapsed in a heap by a dumpster. The woman rushed forward to try to stop his fall. The crowd just murmured and walked away.
"No,don’t be silly,you’re hurt. You need help, a doctor."
"No!" Isaac shouted emphatically, "I don’t need no doctor. Please ma’am don’t bother with me, I’m not worth your trouble."
She stood still staring down at the helpless man, she was silent for a moment. Then she grabbed him by the arm, pulling his 6’4" frame to his feet.
"Fine if you don’t want a doctor, then I’ll take care of you myself."
"No." Isaac tried to cry out but suddenly the spells came back and the world went blank.
Hot air brushed Isaac’s face, waking him from his unconscious spell. His good eye tried to focus in the darkness, he knew he was moving , in a car but was still so confused.
Startled at the realization he was being taken somewhere, Isaac sat up with a start. He was laying in the back seat of a Studebaker.His head swiveled around,
"Where....where am I...?"
Asking the question, Isaac saw who was driving the car, the thick golden locks again. Isaac’s eyes locked on the dashboard rearview mirror.
Smiling eyes answered back, "You’re awake."
It was her, the beautiful blond from the street! He grew panicy, worried that he might in a hallucination, a permanent one.
"Listen, I, I," Isaac stammered. She turned to look over her shoulder, thick hair spilling over her shoulders.
‘Just like Veronica Lake,’ Isaac thought for a moment.
"Don’t talk," She said, "We’re just going to drive to my apartment. We’ll take care of that knee and you can go home.Ok?"
"It’s the least I can do." She smiled gently
Isaac was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to react to a simple act of kindness. He was both cautiously nervous and happy at the simple act this stranger had given him.But he could not relax,after all he was lying in the back seat of a car, at night, being driven by an absolutely gorgeous white woman, a "stacked" blond on top of it, who looked like Veronica Lake
Isaac looked back at her reflection again, "Thank you ma’am.."
She smiled back, "You don’t have to call me ma’am."
"It’s only proper," He said politely, "Let me introduce myself, my names Isaac."
"Please to meet you Isaac, I’m Betty."
Covered by the darkness, the old Studebaker stopped in the alley next to an apartment building. Placing her elegant fingers out for him to grab on to.
"Take my hand."
Isaac’s dark hand wrapped around hers. The alabaster white soft palm disappeared in his wide black grip.
Quietly the pair walked inside the building. Still unsteady, Isaac leaned more on the wall for support than Betty. She was so small compared to him, atleast a foot taller he guessed. Looming over her, he was afraid she’d crumple if he really leaned on her for help.
Unsteadily, Isaac followed Betty through the apartment buildings back door. With a more pronounced limp Isaac glanced down at the tear in his pant leg.
"Oh these were my good trousers." Isaac frustratedly mumbled.
"Don’t worry Isaac," Betty smiled unlocking the apartment door, "I’ll have you fixed up and you can go right on home. Ok?"