Chocolate Dipped

(All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story are over 18 and any similarities to real life are purely coincidental)

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Author's note: This is my first interracial story and it is partially based on a true story.

Living deep in the mountains of California has its advantages. Quiet, dark, star-filled nights are a normal occurrence. People letting others live and let live, and a sense of individualism, make it a place where people like me can thrive; I just get to be me. The lack of diversity, culture, and readily accessible amenities of city life are certainly reasons the mountain life can wear you out. One of the amenities I miss most is a plethora of women around to satisfy my desires.

As I sat in my regular seat, 4 stools in from the left hand edge of the spacious bar at Marlee's, and listened to Tommy drivel on about his sad life, I tried to remind myself why, in my early 30's, I moved back to my hometown after a brief, but successful, career in Major League Baseball. 8 years of pitching for the Dodgers had kept me in Los Angeles, paid me handsomely and, after all that big city life, convinced me to move back to a somewhat sequestered lifestyle and enjoy the very large home I was able to build. But it was days like this, drinking with the guy we called "Eeyore" and starving from a lack of any females to even look at, that had me wondering why I was here.

Tommy was sipping on his vodka and soda, one of too many, eating my french fries he said he'd never eat, and telling me why the Dodgers, who had already cruised through the first round of the playoffs, didn't stand a chance of winning the World Series. During Tommy's monologue, that I'm not even sure he was listening to, the front door swung open to the restaurant and a rush of late fall, colder than normal air rushed in. I glanced over to see who had come in so late on a midweek night and was taken by the female who had entered alone.

The mountain communities in this area are not full of diversity and certainly not of the female persuasion. And yet, the new patron of Marlee's was a cute little, African-American woman. She glanced around and quickly moved into a seat at the bar. She was obviously alone. She ordered a glass of rose wine, another sign she wasn't from the area, and asked to see a menu. After asking if they had veggie burgers (not even close) she ordered a large salad and some of the cream of mushroom soup; completely confirming she was new in town.

Trying to divert Tommy's attention from the demise of Major League Baseball since the inception of free agency, Tommy's new monologue that I didn't even realize he'd switched over to, I commented, "She's kinda cute."

"Whatever John," Tommy started in.

"What? She is cute," I answered.

"Once you go black, you'll never go back. Isn't that what they say," Tommy laughed?

"Pretty sure that is referring to women meeting well-hung African-American men, Tommy."

"Whatever. Who cares. As I was saying, free agency is the only reason baseball isn't America's past time anymore," Tommy continued.

"Ever been with a black woman, Tommy," I asked?

"No. And, I don't really care. I dated a woman from some place in South America once," Tommy added.

"Well, aren't you a man of the world," I added.

"Have you ever been with an African-American, John," Tommy asked as a follow up?

"No, but I would love to."

"You'd fuckin love to be with anyone," Tommy asserted. He wasn't entirely incorrect. I was a well to do, single, former pro athlete, and a horny bastard. However, the local women were either attached or so far from my type that I wished they were attached.

The younger looking black woman sipped her wine, played with her iPhone, and picked at her salad; the mostly white and yellow lettuce that made up a salad at Marlee's was obviously not up to her standards. Maybe it was my sex-starved imagination, but I think she was stealing an occasional glance my way. And, why wouldn't she. At 6' 3" and slightly over 200 pounds I was still in good shape from my playing days. I still had my signature longer hair and tight goatee and was wearing a baseball cap; my Dodgers lid now replaced by my favorite golf hat.

She was wearing tight, yoga pants, but her long, oversized sweatshirt covered up any glimpse of her ass and chest. She had beautiful, long, straight hair and when she smiled at whatever she was reading on her phone, she lit up the room. She was only about 5' tall, probably 100 pounds dripping wet, and looked to be in her early to mid 20's.

Tommy interrupted my gawking and said, "Don't you think so, John?"

"Don't I think what," I asked Tommy, having not heard what he'd been saying?

"Fuck you. You never listen to me," Tommy said.

"No one does, Tommy," the bartender, Pete, said to Tommy.

"Fuck you too, Pete. I'm out of here," Tommy said as he plopped down some cash and headed out.

Laughing, I said, "He'll be back tomorrow."

"And it will end just about the same," Pete replied.

Marlee's was fairly quiet, just the faint buzz of a few people chatting and background music playing, so I implemented one of our stealth communication methods, I texted Pete.

Me: Ever seen that girl at the bar before?

Pete: Never. She's pretty cute.

Me: Indeed. Wonder what brings her up here.

Pete: Might be that university thing up on the summit.

We had been hearing that a cooperative of universities had set up a research facility way up on the summit to study the effects of climate change on snow pack or something. There had been talk that 15-20 people would be spending the winter up there and it brought a little glimmer of hope to the places like Marlee's who struggled more in the cold, wet, snowy winter months. We didn't have a ski resort around so, unlike the Tahoe area, life got pretty dead in the winter.

Me: Well, maybe I need to do some of my own research on her.

Pete: Go for it. Shall I send her a drink from you?

Me: No. Not yet. Let me see how this shakes out.

I got up from the bar and headed out the front door to use the men's room that was now located outside after Marlee's had to expand the women's room to account for ADA compatibility. Life didn't require that I check the weather much and I was surprised by how hard it was raining and how cold it was. My light, long sleeve t-shirt and jeans wasn't cutting it; even for a local. I came back inside Marlee's shook off the rain I had collected on my hat and returned to the bar and sat down. "Damn Pete. It's raining hard and cold as hell out there."

"Probably snowing up on the summit already. Haven't had an early snow like this in years. They said we were due."

Bingo! Our conversation hit paydirt with the young lady. "Excuse me," she started in quietly, "Sorry to interrupt, but did you say it was snowing up on the summit?

"I'm sure it is. If it is this cold down here," I replied. I pulled up the security camera that watches my driveway area on my iPhone and confirmed it, "Sure is. I live only halfway to the summit and it is snowing at my place."

"Dammit. Okay, thank you," she said.

I moved down the bar in her direction. "Hi. I'm John. Are you visiting the area and need to get to the summit?"

"Hi John, I'm Kaia. Yes, I am headed up there for the winter with the snowpack study that is being conducted."

"Oh okay. We heard about that. Welcome to Marlee's," Pete came by and added.

"Yes, welcome," I said.

"Do you think I can make it to the summit tonight," Kaia asked?

"What are you driving," I asked?

"A little Mazda 3 Sport."

"Chains?"

"No. Is that a problem," Kaia innocently asked?

"How experienced are you driving in snow," I inquired?

"Don't laugh. I have never set foot in snow."

"Really? Wow. Well then, it may be a problem."

"I was born and raised in the inner-city of LA and I never had the chance."

"And you're up here all winter to study it," I asked sarcastically?

"I'm studying climate change. Not snow. I'm a graduate student at UCLA doing a PhD in environmental studies."

"Go easy on him," Pete chimed in, "he's a dumbass athlete and will need you to talk really slow."

"Shut up, Pete."

"I know who he is," Kaia laughed. "John Scott. Number 3 for the Dodgers. Helped them win it all as a closer a few years ago."

"Wow, John. You finally found one fan."

Ignoring Pete I said, "So, you're a Dodger's fan?"

"My dad worked at the stadium for over 25 years. He's retired now, but he used to get me into as many games as he could."

"Wow. No shit. That is really cool."

"I texted him, but he hasn't replied yet. He'll freak out when he knows I'm sitting here at a bar with John Scott. He was a big fan."

"Thank you. That means a lot. Can I buy you another drink, Kaia?"

"I really shouldn't if I am going to drive up to the summit tonight."

"You won't make it to the summit. I have an idea. If you want to throw your stuff into my truck, I can take you up there tonight. You can leave your car here at Marlee's and hitch a ride back when the weather clears to pick it up."

"That is really sweet. Okay, I'll have another drink, Pete."

We sat and shared a drink and laughed our asses off about her memories of Dodger games, living in LA, and a whole host of other things. Kaia was a true fan and it was fun to reminisce. After our drinks, we decided to grab her things and throw them in my pick up and head up to the summit. Not unlike other people who live in the mountains, I drive a Ford F250, Supercab, 4X4 pick up with all the extras. It is raised as high as it can go and so I when I opened the door for Kaia I felt obliged to help her up and in; it was also a good chance to check out her ass. It was round, bubbly, and firm and her yoga pants had nothing in the way as they crept up her crack.

We headed up the mountain and continued to chat. She was very easy to talk to, smart as hell, and her cute, vivacious personality was intoxicating. We were both clearly feeling the drinks a little and so I broached the subject of significant others. "So, what does your significant other think about you hibernating winter away in a remote place like this?"

"Precisely why I don't have anyone close to a significant other," she laughed.

"Good call. Well, if you did, he wouldn't have to worry. This place is devoid of any social activity like that."

"Then why are you up here? Did you bring someone with you from your days in LA?"

"I actually grew up here, but all the women I knew did what everybody else did and got the hell out. I needed a break from the city life and came up here after I retired. And no, I didn't bring anyone. I'm just up here alone enjoying life. It is much more active in the warm months with all the lake goers, so I tolerate the colder winter months. Fortunately, this time of year, I can travel to warmer places when I want to."

"That sounds good. Well, maybe this winter when I get breaks, we can hang out."

"You'd like that," I asked?

"I do so far," she said with a smile; and I think I detected a slight wink. "WOW! There's snow all over out there. Can I check it out?"

"You have seriously never been in the snow?"

"My dad was a single dad and vacations were to the beach in LA. We had no money to go anywhere, let alone the snowy mountains in winter."

"That is crazy to me. So, my place is about a mile up the road. We can stop there really quick and you can touch the snow," I said laughing.

"How much past that to the summit where the research center is?"

"30 minutes."

"Stopping would be great. Any chance I can use the restroom as well?"

"We don't have indoor plumbing up in these parts," I said with a distinctly hick accent.

Not that she took me seriously, it became apparent as we pulled up my driveway that I had indoor plumbing. I lived in a 4000 square foot, custom-built, log cabin style home with natural stone features covering the front of the home. The large front, wrap around porch was lit up and with the snow covering the ground and surrounding landscaping it was a wonderful sight.

"Wow. This is your house?"

"I'm fortunate. Baseball was good to me."

My truck barely came to a stop and she jumped out and into about 4" of fresh snow. She bent down, scooped some up and through it in the air over her own head. "Oh my god. It is so light. And cold. This is crazy. Ouch. My hands hurt. I love it. I absolutely love it."

"Yes, this is snow. And it is fun, but not always fun to live in. This is a really early snow for us. Probably going to see a lot of it this winter if it is starting in mid-October."

She played around in the snow for a minute and it was fun as hell to watch; and sexy. Picking up some snow, and attempting to run around the truck and launch it at me, she slipped and came crashing down in the wet snow. Fortunately landing on the lawn to break her fall, she burst into laughter and I quickly followed. Laying on the ground, getting a bit more snow than she may have bargained for, she spit out, "And for my next act..."

"How's charm school, Grace," I replied sarcastically.

"Shut up and help me up," she yelled playfully.

I helped her up, coming face to face with her, and for a brief minute I thought to myself, "Kiss her you fool." Fortunately, the brain in my head and not my dick did the thinking. Remembering she had to use the bathroom, her sweatshirt now wet with damp snow, we headed inside. The first steps inside my home are fairly stunning. I have a tall, two-story, grand foyer that leads into a great room with a huge rock fireplace.

"This is awesome! I don't think I have ever been in a log cabin. This fireplace would be amazing to sit by when it is going. But first, where's the bathroom." I directed her to the restroom.

Just as she was coming out of the bathroom, I grabbed my remote control, clicked a button, and a fire burst to life right in front of Kaia. "How's that? The magic of gas log fireplaces."

"What the hell? It looks so real. That is crazy," she said running over and sitting down on the hearth. "This feels so cozy." With that, she pulled off her wet sweatshirt and was wearing a very thin, spaghetti strap undershirt. My first view of her body was breathtaking. She had teardrop, B-cup tits (my guess was 32B) with hard nipples, and a tight, flat stomach. As she stood in the glow and warmth of the fire, she stretched her arms up, making my cock stir wildly in my pants, and said, "Oh my god. This feels so good."

"Would you like another drink to go with the fire?"

"Should I really? I mean, it is late and you still need to take me up to the summit," she said in a tone that was very unconvincing.

"I'm fine if you are," I asked?

"Okay. Make it something to warm my insides."

I went over to my bar thinking, "I have something that would warm your insides alright."

I returned with her drink, a "hot apple pie" cocktail, and said, "Here, let me show you something you might like." Kaia followed me around the corner and into my office. I have a large wall case dedicated to baseball memorabilia.

"Oh wow. I have to take a picture of this. My dad will explode with envy when he knows I've been here and seen all this." We spent some time looking at all the things that she remembered as a fan. At her request, I signed a baseball I had laying around for her dad.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

"Sure. Give me the tour."

I showed her around the downstairs and then headed up stairs. The vaulted, log ceilings are dramatic in the master suite as is the matching, four-poster bed I have. My bathroom is even more impressive with a full-size jacuzzi and I didn't want to miss that; any chance to suggest where she might want to spend some time.

"What the fuck? That is crazy. This bathroom is bigger than my studio apartment. And the jacuzzi! That looks so relaxing."

"Old athletes get stiff, sore muscles," I laughed. "I need a place to soak."

We moved back downstairs and I grabbed my keys to head out. "Can I sit by the fire for a few more minutes," she pleaded?

"Sure. I am going to use the restroom." I walked away and gathered my thoughts. I wondered if I was misreading what seemed like flirtatiousness. If she was flirting, it behooves me to return the favor and go for it. If she wasn't and I made a move, that could be really awkward and screw up what might be the beginning of a good winter. My cock was clearly interested in finding out as it stirred every time I looked at her.

I returned to the family room and she had her sweatshirt on and looked like she was finally resigned to leaving. I wondered again about what she really wanted, but figured I had better take the safe route.

We jumped back in the truck and I headed up the road to the summit. The snow had stopped and you could even see patches of starry sky. "What is the best way for me to get my car," Kaia asked?

"Give me your cell number. I'll figure out the weather and a plan and let you know tomorrow."

I dropped her off at the research center, accepted a hug across the center console of my truck and promised to text or call her the next day about her car. As I drove away, it was hard to concentrate on driving; the memory of her sexy body was filling my head. Getting home and heading straight to bed, I did the next best thing. I pulled up a story on Literotica about a sexy, young black woman and pleasured myself. It wasn't how I would have chosen the night to end, but at least it released some sexual tension and I was able to sleep.

The next day, the sun was shining and the roads were clear. I went to the gym, ran a few errands, and then called Kaia about noon. "Hello, its John."

"Hey John! Good morning! I had a great time last night."

"I had a great time, too. What is your day like? I was thinking I'd come pick you up and give you a ride back down to get your car. You should be fine driving it up there."

"You don't have to do that. That is a lot of trouble. There are people here that will run errands down the mountain today and they can take me."

Dejected, I quickly conjured up a response that would allow me to be with this African-American beauty, "Well, I wasn't going to do it for free. You can buy me a drink or something."

"Well, okay. That sounds great."

"Perfect. What time should I pick you up?"

"Is 3 o'clock okay? I am setting up my room and research office today."

"3 is perfect. I'll see you then."

At 3, when I arrived back at the summit, Kaia came bouncing out of the research center. She was adorable. She was wearing tight blue jeans, a wool sweater, and some cute boots pulled over her pants. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her smile was leading the way; my cock resumed its excitement.

"Hey John. Thank you so much. This is really great. I'm actually glad we get to see each other again."

"Yeah. Me too."

We chatted all the way down the mountain. As we were approaching Marlee's I asked, "Would you like to go in for a drink?"

"Well, too be honest John, I loved Marlee's the other night, but is there somewhere with a bit more of a diverse menu?"

Laughing I said, "Up here? No. What were you thinking?"

"Seafood?" she asked. My laughing made her follow up immediately with "No, huh?"

"Well, we could hit the grocery store and grab some things and head back up to my place. Are you interested in cooking dinner with me?"

"Oh my god. I love the idea. Let's go."

We grabbed her car and she followed me a bit further to the local grocery store. We bought some stuff to make a shrimp stir-fry (one of the few dishes I have mastered) and we grabbed some wine. As we got back out to the car, she said, "Oh shoot. I forgot something. I'll go back in and grab it. Wait for me so I can follow you." She darted off and I hopped in my truck and waited. Kaia came back with a small bag in her hand and I figured it was some sort of femine thing she needed. She hopped in her car and off we went; Kaia following me to my place.