Angry Allan and Roseline

A fight with Allan leads Roseline into the arms of her two best friends

Warning:

There is bisexual sex, and group sex in this story.

***********

We fight, my boyfriend Allan and I. We have tremendous fights, often over silly things, and eventually we make up. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, it is. The make-up sex is wonderful.

This last fight, however, was especially brutal. I guess Allan has anger issues. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. Allan has never laid a hand on me in anger and I’m sure he never would. I am most definitely not a battered woman, and if Allan tried anything like that I would leave him in seconds. He knows that, at least on an intuitive level.

So, the fight was not physical, but it was brutal nevertheless. I had suggested Allan seek therapy for his anger issues. I had told him it probably stemmed from his childhood, maybe something about his relationship with his parents growing up and KABLOUIE! I had stepped on a landmine, and I suspect his shouting was heard in at least six of our neighboring apartments. It’s embarrassing, you know.

It was Allan’s apartment. He rented it and I had sort of moved in with him. I still had my own apartment, a few blocks away. I was not ready to commit myself by definitively giving up my apartment and moving in with Allan. I continued to pay rent on my apartment just for the reason of being independent. I was always a bit leery of Allan’s problem with his temper.

Allan stormed out of the apartment. I knew where he was going. Allan is, if anything, predictable. He headed off, no doubt, to his favorite sports bar. I know what you’re thinking: he’d get drunk, get in a fight, and I’d be going either to the ER or to the jail to bail him out, right? Wrong again. Drink makes some people bellicose, but it doesn’t for Allan. Drink combined with the distraction of sports on television calms the man down.

So, I knew Allan was going to be okay. It wasn’t Allan that concerned me; it was me: Roseline. Liquor doesn’t help in my case. Eating doesn’t help. Meds (like Xanax) in general don’t help. None of the usual venues people use to calm down when upset help, in my case, except of course, for time. Typically, I’d be okay in a few days.

Except for this time. This time was different. Allan had crossed a line. People say things in anger at times that they regret saying. It happens. It probably happens a lot. The thing is, when people cross that line, saying things they really shouldn’t, it tells you something. At least, that’s what I think. What they really think, deep down in their inner being, reveals itself, if -- through the shouting and emotional turbulence -- you are aware enough at the time to see it.

Once you see it, though, it’s horrible, because you can’t un-see it. It’s there, and it will stay there, and it will always be there, and you either have to live with it always in your consciousness, or cut bait and run. There are no other options. All this appeared clearly in my head as if it were a blinding flash of light.

It was at that moment, minutes after Allan had slammed the door and left, that I knew we were over. I suddenly realized it had always been there, it had been present in all of our fights, lurking just under the surface. I had never wanted to see it, but in this last fight it had peaked out from under the rugs of nasty verbiage emanating from his mouth and it was said explicitly. It was said only once, fleetingly, then covered up again, but only once was enough.

Allan had contempt and hatred for who I was, where I came from, and in short, my social class. Allan had contempt for me because I was raised poor. I was, too. I grew up in poverty. I wasn’t proud of my background, but I sure as hell wasn’t ashamed of it, either. Allan had shown his inner self, his true id if you will, and it was ugly. More than ugly, it was something I could not live with. Allan was a racist.

More than just being a racist, which is bad enough in and of itself if one is Black, was that Allan’s sexual desire for me was due to my skin color, and all that that represents. He found it sexy that his regular squeeze was black. It wasn’t really fucking me that he liked, even if I always tried to make it as good as possible for him, it was fucking his ‘black sexpot,’ as he called me.

I took my lithe, young body, with my perfect, unblemished skin, and my love box that lubricated on a dime, and my naked body that drove Allan nuts, especially when he drove me to a climax which was every bleeping time, and I dressed myself. I found my few treasures that I had at his apartment, and emotionally said goodbye to my clothes that I kept at Allan’s, which were too much to carry.

*********

I texted Jim and Ally, my two closest friends. We met at Popeyes. They had been urging me to leave Allan for a long time. They were thrilled I was finally doing it.

“Where’s Allan now?” Jim asked.

“At his favorite sports bar, I’m sure. You know the one,” I replied.

“He’ll come to your apartment you know,” Amy said.

“I know; I won’t be there,” I said.

“He’ll find you, you know that,” Jim said.

“No, he won’t,” I said. “Not this time.”

“Look, Roseline. You’re the prettiest black woman in Indianapolis. You’re recognized everywhere you go. Half the men in Indy want to take you to bed. I hate to speak in clichés, but here I go: you can run, but you can’t hide. Not you,” Jim said.

“Jim’s right, Roseline,” Ally said.

“I know you’re both right,” I said, “And that’s why I’m leaving town. When I’m settled, would you be willing to send me my stuff from my apartment?”

“You can’t leave town! What about us and your other friends?” Ally exclaimed, and she really did look upset, and sad.

“I know Ally, but it’s the only way. I’ve thought this through,” I said.

We sat in silence for a while. Jim and Ally, who were just friends, not a couple (well, they were friends with benefits, if you know what I mean), both looked very sad.

“Well, you’re better off without him. Sooner or later he was going to beat you,” Ally said.

“No, he would never have done that,” I said.

“Where are you going?” Jim asked.

“You can tell nobody. If you do, Allan will find out. You can tell nobody at all, and you have to swear, okay?”

They both swore, and then I made them swear again, and then a third time. I grabbed a napkin, covered what I was writing, and wrote NYC on it and gave it to them.

“My bus leaves in two hours. The trip is 20 to 21 hours long. I got a new phone so Allan can’t track me. I’ve texted a friend, and he’ll put me up for a few days until I’m on my feet,” I said.

“He?” Jim asked, and I noticed Ally kicked him. God, I love that woman. I’ll miss her.

“You mind works in the gutter, Jim,” I said. “He’s an old friend from college. No worries.”

Ally and I went to college together; that’s how we became friends. I met Jim in Indy, thanks to Ally. “Who’s the friend? Do I know him?” she asked.

“You know him. He’s Bob. Bob Jackson,” I said.

Ally raised one eyebrow. She was really good at that; she could arch an eyebrow up to the ceiling. It always made me giggle and I did. I giggled for the first time since leaving Allan’s apartment.

“You’ll have to compensate him,” Ally said. I knew what she meant. No doubt she was right.

“He said he’s glad to help a friend. He’s not asking for money,” I replied.

“You know the kind of compensation I mean,” Ally said. “You okay with that?”

Jim had not been following, but suddenly he understood. His eyes got wide.

I didn’t answer Ally’s question. There was no way I was going to tell anyone that I was, in fact, looking forward to giving Bob some compensation for his New York hospitality. I’d always had a thing for him, but in college I dated only Black men. Had I enjoyed Bob’s “hospitality,” I would have been disowned by all of my friends.

*************

Jim had always been totally correct with me. After all, I was Allan’s girl; but when he and Ally took me to the bus station in their car, things changed. Ally and I hugged and kissed goodbye. Ally surprised me by giving me a kiss on the lips that was an eight or nine on a ten-point sexy scale. I never would have suspected Ally, but hey, she can do no wrong in my book, and if that’s how she feels, and if she’s a little AC/DC, more power to her.

I guess AC/DC is a term my parents used. Today she would simply be called bi. I had no idea until that very moment. Well, good for her, I say.

Then Jim said goodbye. Whoa! His kiss made me wet, and when he felt up my boobs through my clothes, I didn’t stop him. Then he felt my ass and pulled me flush against him, while our tongues got acquainted. I could feel his erection.

I pulled away from him, flushed and amazed at the sexual desire I felt. It was weird. The two of them had always been friends, good friends, but only friends. I had loved them, sure, but there was nothing sexual about it. Now suddenly, I knew I was wet, and I was consumed with desire. I felt it welling up inside me, unsettling me, driving me wild.

“Change of plans,” I said. I traded my tickets in for the next day, sent a text to Bob telling him of my new arrival date, and went on my phone and reserved a room at the downtown Marriott.

I checked in alone and texted Jim and Ally the room number. It’s a standard precaution. If the three of us had checked in together, it would be assumed I was a black prostitute they had hired. Jim and Ally were middle class whites, and they strolled into the Marriott unmolested and went straight to my room.

It was awkward at first with the three of us in the room. Nobody knew what to do. “Let’s pretend we’re at the bus station again, and you’re saying goodbye,” I said.

“Roseline, you don’t know this, but I love you,” Ally said.

“I love you, too,” Jim quickly added. “Ally and I have never met a woman like you before,” Jim said.

“You need to get out more,” I said, and thank goodness they both smiled.

Ally came over to me, crying, and said, “I’m going to miss you, Ros. We both are,” and she hugged me. This was not a goodbye hug, it was not a hug of friendship, it was an I-want-sex-with-you hug. We continued to hug, and kiss, and Ally’s hands went to my ass.

Depending probably on what region of Africa your ancestors came from, some Black women, even if they’re thin, have these prominent behinds that stick out behind them, perfectly curved, and even compelling to men whose taste runs that way. There’s plenty of Black men who love women with asses like that, and probably -- although I personally don’t know -- they like to fuck a girl up her ass, too. Well, maybe I do know, actually. Some of those men dated me in college.

I’m one of those Black women with a prominent, perfectly curved ass, and a thin body to go with it. My boobs are a little big for my body, but still not too big, and I have huge, dark areolas and gigantic nipples. Either you like it, or you don’t. Allan worshipped my body and -- truth be told -- I enjoyed being worshipped. What girl wouldn’t? Allan never tried to fuck my ass, though. My ass is virgin when it comes to white men, but if Allan had wanted it, I doubt I would have denied it to him. I never denied Allan anything. I was his little, Black, submissive. He’ll miss me, I’m sure.

Ally’s hands were all over my ass while we kissed ‘goodbye.’ Suddenly she pulled away and she unsnapped my skinny jeans. Jim helped her and my pants and panties came right off. I was naked below the waist, and my two best friends were seeing my pussy and my naked ass for the first time.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but there was no time for reflection because Ally was all over me, kissing me, her hands exploring my body below the waist. Ally saved the best for last, but had to stop for a minute as Jim removed my sweater and bra. Now I was naked, on the floor of the hotel room, with Ally’s hands once again everywhere but my pussy.

When Ally’s hands finally went to my pussy I knew she was scared. So far I had submissively complied with everything Jim and Ally were doing, and when her hands found my pussy, I gave the okay by sexually groaning out my pleasure at her ministrations. As Ally teased my sex, she was revealing to me exactly what she did to pleasure herself, in those horny, lonely moments all of us women have.

Her hands circled my vulva, teasing constantly, as I squirmed around waiting for Ally’s hands to get down to some serious business! As it turns out, however, Ally was not the only person in that room with hands. I had two of them, of course, but more significantly Jim had two hands, too.

Jim’s hands went to my boobs, and I guess he must have obtained a master’s degree or something in nipple fondling. Never had I had my boobs fondled so lovingly and erotically, simultaneously. I was thinking of pushing Ally away so that I could focus on what Jim was doing to my boobs -- it was that amazing!

Uh-oh, Ally’s finger went inside me. Whoops! Correction: two fingers, and OMG correction: three fingers! She was pumping away while suddenly Jim’s magical fingers on my tits were replaced with his tongue -- not his mouth, but just his tongue.

I was beginning to writhe around on the bed and moaning up a storm when suddenly both Ally and Jim stopped. I saw Jim was naked, like me -- when did that happen? Ally smiled at me and kissed me lovingly which distracted me and then OMG Jim’s cock was at my entrance! Oh no! What to do, what to do? Was I about to give Jim carnal knowledge of me? Could I do that? Allan had fucked me yesterday, for Pete’s sake. Was I that much of a slut? Was I going to confirm Allan’s stereotype of poor Black girls giving it away right and left?

I began to say, “Jim, I can’t let...” but then Ally was kissing me, shutting me up, and her hand found my clit while Jim’s cock slid into me much too easily, and I bleeping moaned, as my best friend became my lover, just like that.

As Jim pumped away inside me, with my eyes closed and the erotic pleasure filling my brain, not due to his cock alone so much as to the thrill of a man I love filling me up, completing me in the way only fucking can do. It was man and woman united as one in that moment as the world spun around me crazily.

I loved the way Jim used his cock to express his love for me in this new and everlasting way of sexual intercourse. I knew I’d never forget this exact moment. I was delirious with pleasure, and pushing up to meet his every thrust, obviously loving it as Jim did his best imitation of the Eveready Bunny: he just kept going, and going, and going. He fucked me right through not one, not two, but three climaxes, the last one coming when he squirted deep inside me.

My eyes were closed, so I didn’t see that Ally was now naked. I had never seen her naked, nor had she seen me naked, but now we saw each other when I opened my eyes. Of course, she had just seen me not only naked, but lost in erotic pleasure as Jim fucked me to heaven and beyond.

“Jim is special, isn’t he?” Ally asked, smiling a gigantic smile. I smiled back. “Like any man, though, he’s now spent and we have maybe twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before he’s ready to go again.”

Ally began to finger herself, swaying back and forth, as she stood above me. With her eyes locked on mine, she stood with legs apart, one on each side of me, giving me a perfect view of her pussy as she fingered herself. I had never seen a woman masturbate, except when I had watched my own self in a mirror.

Ally displayed her extraordinary core control, honed no doubt from her devotion to Yoga, as she moved so as to straddle my head, and then she slowly, excruciatingly slowly, lowered her luscious body down, down, down, until her pussy was hovering right over my face.

“You look good enough to eat,” I said to her, and that was all it took. Ally lowered herself the final half inch to sit on my mouth, and quite frankly I was surprised at how totally natural and lovely it felt for me to eat her pussy.

I tried to do a good job. I hope it was good, but I know that at least I was relentless, as I sucked and licked and chewed at her most intimate parts. I discovered my arms were just long enough to reach her boobs, especially as she leaned backwards as she sat on my face.

Ally’s explosive orgasm was memorable. Her entire body quivered as she screamed out her pleasure, her scream muffled as Jim kissed her. When Jim released her she fell forward, lying on top of me in an orgiastic induced exhaustion, and I lay underneath her, enjoying the feel of Ally’s soft, sensuous, and warm body covering me like an erotic blanket.

Afterwards we all sat around, naked, and discussed what had happened. Jim showed us the pictures he took of Ally and me getting it on. Both Ally and I made him swear that nobody else would ever see the pictures. I had to admit it looked hot to see Ally’s nude sexy white body lying flush on top of my black body, with her abdomen flattening my boobs, her head nestled between my thighs.

I suppose it was inevitable. We raided the minibar and then browsed the TV, seeing what old movies were available to rent on the TV. Most of it was Marvel movies, or martial arts movies, or porn, but -- and I took this as a sign from heaven -- they had some of the old Humphrey Bogart movies that I love.

We all watched

The Maltese Falcon

(I had even read the Dashiell Hammett novel the movie was based on), while drinking, munching the peanuts the minibar also provided, and sneaking little kisses and fondles. Both Ally and Jim would molest me whenever the other wasn’t looking, and finally I simply broke down giggling. I got off the bed and sat in a chair so I could finish watching the movie without having to respond to their delicious molestations. I was lucky to have two such amazing friends.

Late in the evening, as we were all getting sleepy, I idly said, “Well, I can never go back to Allan now.”

“Why would you want to? Allan’s bad news,” Ally said.

“I don’t know. We were together for two years, and I do love the man, you know. Except for our fights, he’s really a great guy. But after tonight, I could never go back,” I said.

“What do you mean you couldn’t go back? You have free will,” Jim added.

“I just cheated on him, not just with you, Jim, but with Ally, too,” I said. “Men don’t like it when their girl cheats. No, it’s over between us. I guess I didn’t fully realize it until now.”

“Let’s celebrate!” Jim said. He was hard, and Ally and I both knew what he meant. Sometimes men can be so very obvious.

“How about in the morning?” I asked. “Can you sleep with that much wood?”

“Ally will help me out, I hope,” Jim said, and then I watched my two friends fuck for the first time in my life. Ally was really noisy, and I watched her stomach rise up off the bed just before she climaxed. It was really hot, and then a minute later Jim unloaded inside her.

“Is it hot fucking two different girls in one night?” I asked.

“Not just two girls, but two gorgeous, fabulous, sweethearts, you mean? Yes, yeah, it really is. You should try it some time, but with two men, I mean,” he said.

“Ros could do it with two girls, you know. I’d love to be one of them,” Ally said.

I giggled. “You two are crazy,” I said. “I’m not like that,” I said, but even as I said it, I knew that I might be exactly like that. After all, didn’t I just do it with Ally and Jim? Moreover, I really hoped to do it again with both of them in the morning.

************

When I got to New York the afternoon of the next day, I was sexually satiated and happy. I had a big smile for the first 300 miles, as I replayed our threesome in my mind, over and over again. There was a cute guy sitting two rows ahead of me. Most of the passengers on the bus were either runaway teenage girls, or so I surmised, or blacks like me.