The day has finally arrived. I'm meeting my affair partner, Colt, for the first time. And, as a thin mist of rain fell on my windshield as I drove towards the coffee shop we both agreed to meet, my mind was running wild with a thousand thoughts. I was nervous, to say the least. Colt and I have been talking for awhile now over the phone and by email, but had yet to meet. Based on the pictures I've seen of him, I'm fantasizing about him kissing my firm, black breasts with his supple lips, and grabbing his erect, Caucasian penis.
I have been married to my husband, an African man, for the past seven years. Our relationship has been rocky from the beginning, and I knew all along I wanted to be with a white man, especially when my husband would go into his chauvinistic tirades about how much better he is than me.
Fuck it. I'm just going to do this, even though I am scared about all the things that could go wrong, never mind the fact that this guy could be a complete psycho. I want to find out. So, as I drive closer to the location, my heartbeat continues to quicken and I ready myself for all the possibilities that could exist.
Ok, I'm finally here. Fuck! He's already here. I nervously exit my car and walk towards him; he greets me with a warm hug. I inhale his scent; I want to run my hands all over his broad shoulders, kissing his soft, warm lips. But, I refrain myself from getting too touchy-feely so soon. We both say, "hello", and he takes my hand and leads me into the small cafe.
We sit at a table by the door and he orders a latte for himself and an iced green tea for me. We sit and talk and fall deep into each other's gaze. I can't help but notice he constantly stares at my lips. Everything is going perfectly. We both know we must return home soon before our spouses begin to wonder, so we wrap up our conversation and head out of the coffee shop. We share another embrace as we leave. I feel more of his body this time, taking in as much as I could. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me, but I walk away wanting more.