The lazy late summer days of October had finally given way to crisp mornings and cool nights. The back of summer was broken and gone were the sweltering days and sultry nights. Laura tried to take her mind off the one element at the center of her young life, her lust for Ray Jackson, by running early in the morning and plunging herself into her work.
Ray was still on the road, visiting high school in the Southeast to find and recruit high school seniors for both football and basketball. He was using the iPhone pictures he had taken of Laura sucking his cock as a recruiting tool, implying that the white girls at the school were there because they were crazy over black men and would do almost anything to be with sexy black boys such as they obviously were.
Ray found himself chuckling time after time, town after small town, at that lie. Most of these boys were clearly still virgins and far from sexy, but planting the idea in their pliable little brains that they could have someone like Laura was an even better recruiting tool than cash. Ray had already gotten a commitment from Curtis Traynor, their top choice for a new quarterback based on his promise that he would give the boy Laura specifically to service his needs. He and Coach Tebbins were in Tuscaloosa, Alabama now and after watching the boy throw 3 touchdown passes, both he and the coach coveted the boy enough to promise him just about anything. Laura might just be the bargaining chip that would tip the scale in their favor.
Sunday evening, a day after the big game, over dinner at the only good steakhouse in town, Ray and Curtis discussed his future at the college. They ordered filets with baked potato and Ray casually got to know the boy, and worked on his approach to winning Curtis's confidence. They talked about a wide range of topics and Ray had the boy laughing over some stories of how bad some of the prospects were that he and Coach Tebbins had seen over their recruiting trip, now in its fourth week.
When their filets came, the conversation lagged as they both tore hungrily into their main courses. With their hunger sated, the conversation picked up again. Ray asked if Curtis had girlfriends and Curtis claimed that the girls were "all over him," then dropped a conversational bomb that he thought would shock Ray as he casually said, "Oh yeah, there's even a couple white girls that were offering to put out for me."
Ray didn't express surprise, replying calmly, "Well, of course a strong young black buck like you would be attractive to white girls. You know Curtis, black boys have their choice of the finest looking white girls at our school. Just think about it son. White girls at a black college are there for one reason! You can have your pick, and they aren't going to say no."
The young black boy's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, revealed his incredulity and his fraud. He gasped, "For real? Is that for real?"
The truth was a bit more prosaic than that. As it turned out, the university had one of the better elementary education departments in the mid-Atlantic and this attracted an inordinate number of idealistic and maternally oriented white girls whose deepest desire in life was to teach cute little blond-haired, blue-eyed cherubs in the elementary school years. In addition, a yearly scholarship grant from the Africa Rising Fund was set aside for recruiting white education students who were classified as 'minority students' at the historically black school.
Ray and several of his friends were the anonymous donors behind the Midnight fund, and many of them Ray and Dr. Smallwood in particular, did the personal interviews of applicants. Without fail, they picked a specific type of candidate -- 17 and 18 year old girls whose physical attributes and eagerness to get a free education often surpassed their intellectual abilities. It was common knowledge that high educational attainment was, at best a secondary requirement for applicants. If they were overtly sexual or flirtatious during the interview process that tended to propel them to the head of the list, and word had gotten out about that as well. The sexiest girls not only got full educational scholarships, but room and board in one of the on campus co-ed dorms was added as well.
Once on campus, the laws of economics prevailed. Since virtually all the male students were black, it skewed the dating pool significantly. A white girl either dated a black boy, or didn't date. And once nature took its course, very few of the white girls ever 'went back' as the saying went. Ray knew that the college did have a problem with an inordinately high rate of co-ed pregnancy, but none of the prospective white teen mothers seemed to complain, especially when they received extra financial support throughout their pregnancies, again from the Africa Rising Fund.
It was obvious to Ray that the boy had not really been with any of the local white girls and that he was simply bragging -- and possibly expressed an unfulfilled wish. Ray probed a little further, explaining that the racial balance of the area was very congenial to a black boy who liked white girls, and that things were a lot more liberal up north than here. Ray casually showed him the brochure version of the diversity poster he had worked on with Laura. Showing a black football player and a blonde cheerleader, foreheads touching affectionately, it seemed to convey a tailor made message to about like Curtis. The fact that the white cheerleader's lips were slightly parted and her eyes seemed fixed on her companion's crotch, were an artifact of the image having been photoshopped by one of the nerdy art majors. Curtis regarded it studiously for several seconds, feeling a rising tension in his always eager loins.
Then Ray dropped a bombshell of his own. "Young blood," he said, "White girls and white women are so hot for black men that they are practically lining up for black lovers. I have several of my own including a new one I am just breaking in, but even now, she calls me her 'Master' and will do anything for me."
Curtis absent-mindedly scraped a bite of steak back and forth across his plate with his fork, thinking about that, then shook his head saying, "Shit, that's total jive. No fuckin' way; who you tryin' to shuck?"
Ray casually wiped his mouth with the white linen napkin, then took out his iPhone. Flipping to his photos of Laura enthusiastically sucking his erect cock, he furtively looked over his shoulder, and then offered the smart phone to the young black student. As the boy thumbed through the collection of pictures, his eyes widened. Ray sat back casually, then raising one eyebrow asked sternly, "Does that look like I'm shucking you, boy?"
The boy's jaw dropped and Ray could see he was squirming uncomfortably in his chair. Ray relaxed and turned the charm back on. The boy was clearly shocked by the images he was seeing. Looking down at the phone, then at the signet ring on Ray's hand, he clearly understood that it was Ray's cock being sucked by a beautiful young woman with dark red hair. In many of the photos, he could see her deep blue eyes looking up worshipfully at the person taking the pictures.
Now his cock grew uncomfortably erect. He licked his wide lips and cleared his throat. He wanted to ask more questions, but Ray could see that he was inhibited by the surroundings. Ray waved the white server over and after paying the check, they stood to walk into the parking lot. The server sneered at their backs as they vanished from sight. but then seeing the size of the tip, clenched his jaw in frustration. He hated serving them, but the tip was the best one he had received in weeks.
Once in the car park, Ray put his arm around the young boy's shoulder, and spoke candidly, "Son, I am not just recruiting you for a football career, but something much larger, much more important than that. I can't go into all the details right now, but suppose I was to tell you there was such a thing as a secret black ruling class, for whom there were no limits; for whom white girls willingly spread their legs every chance they got; whose husbands and boyfriends willingly approved and more than that became accomplices in breeding their wives or daughters. Suppose I was to tell you that the wealth of this ruling elite was even made greater by white couples willingly signing over all their possessions and becoming the servants of this black ruling class?"
Ray let that sink in, watching the boy's reaction, then he offered, "The girl on my iPhone -- you want to see her in action?"
Curtiss swallowed hard then nodded eagerly several times. The pair got in Ray's rented Lexus and drove to his hotel. Once in the room, Ray pulled his iPad from the safe and fired up Skype.
