It was one of those chance happenings that was destined to have a profound affect on my life. My parents had departed for one of their long weekend trips, leaving my brother, Barry, and I alone to fend for ourselves. Before they departed, dad gave us one of his speeches about the place being ours and to have fun, but not to do what they would not do. Little did I know then exactly what that would entail, but I was about to find out.
Things began peaceful enough, with Barry rushing out, as soon as they left, to spend the evening with friends. With my obnoxious brother not around to annoy me, I curled up in bed with a book that I had started two nights before. It was one of those romance novels, where the heroine has to overcome prejudice and fear before she can be with the man that she loves. Naturally, as with all such stories, their love transcended everything that surrounded them, in this case, racial prejudice.
It was such a moving story that when I finished it, and had fallen asleep, I dreamt that I was that girl, struggling against the taboos of society to get what I wanted. Forsaking everything to be with my black lover. Feeling the forbidden joy as he holds me in his arms, caressing my white body and stirring the passions within me. Ultimately, surrendering myself to him, and reaping the exquisite satisfaction of his offering of love, as it surged into my willing body.
The dream was so vivid that I could actually feel his hardened cock penetrating me, electrifying every part of my being, and driving me ever closer to that moment of sublime rapture. I was swept away by that consummate joy, as breathtaking flames of passion rocketed through my quivering body. It wasn't until the fog of ecstasy had cleared my mind that I was able to comprehend the cause of that delirious emotion. Disgusted by what I had done, I quickly withdrew my fingers from my dripping pussy.
I would have rolled over and gone back to sleep, but the light shinning through the window told me that it was already morning. Since I did not think that my brother would be home this soon, I thought that there would be no harm in leaving my wet panties on the bed. After taking them off, I picked up my robe and put it on over my sheer nightie, as I exited my room.
As soon as I entered the hall, I received one of those feelings that warns of impending doom. This was followed by a sudden rush of terror that swept through me like an electrical jolt, as I imagined that burglars had invaded our home. Frightened and unsure about what to do, I paused and took several deep breaths before an insane compulsion to confront them enveloped me. Cinching the belt of my robe tightly around me, my only protection, I stormed down the hall, ready to unleash my fury on whoever was there, only to be stopped short.
"What the hell is going on here?" I raged, noticing my wayward brother crouched over the VCR. On the other side of the living room, one of his black friends was sitting casually in dad's favorite chair.
"Sorry if we woke you," Barry said with a devilish grin, and moved back to sit on the couch. "By the way, this is my friend Calvin. Calvin, this raging lunatic is my sister, Denise. Don't worry, she doesn't bite."
Calvin nodded, giving me a peculiar look, and then turned his attention back to the movie, which has just begun. Curious about what they were watching, I went around to the backside of the couch for a better look. At first I was unable to recognize any of the actors names, then suddenly the image of a buxom blonde-haired girl came into view. She was not much older than I was, and was wearing a nightie very similar to mine. Just like mine, it did very little to hide the abundant charms of her naked body beneath,
"My God, Berry," I almost screamed. "You know that you're not supposed to get into dad's private cache."
"Come on sis, mom and dad ain't here. Besides, what harm will it do?"
I suppose I should have insisted that they stop. Maybe, if I had, nothing would have happened, but I did not. Instead, I convinced myself that he was right, telling myself that they would probably never know that he had gotten into that private stash of porn, as I headed towards the kitchen.
"Boy, she sure has some healthy jugs," my brother lasciviously said as I poured myself a glass of milk. "She can wrap them around my cock any time."
I stood there staring into that glass of milk, wondering what his fascination with a woman's breasts was. There was nothing special about them, since every woman had them. Sure, some of them had ones that were bigger than others were, but that did not make them exceptional; it was just a quirk of nature.
Suddenly a sense of insecurity came over me. Without thinking, I opened my robe and looked down at mine. They were not as large as the blonde's were, but they were large enough for me. Yet, I could not remember noticing a boy staring at them. This made me even more self-conscious, and mad at my brother for being so self-centered and thoughtless.
As I stormed back into the living room, ready to give them a piece of my mind, I was brought to a halt by what I saw on the screen. For there was a black man with his hands obscenely roaming over the young girls ivory body. The impassioned way that he was pawing her, was just like what my secret lover had done to me in my dream, only on the television it looked more lurid and dirty. Nevertheless, she proudly stood there, her back straight the way mine had been, as if she wanted him to investigate her naked body.
Despite my distain for what I was watching, I could feel my body begin to react to it. It was as if it could feel my lovers hands on it again, roving leisurely over my soft skin like a blind man reading brail. Each touch sending electrical waves of pleasure surging through me.
"What are you watching that garbage for," I said, hoping to quell the fiery passions that were building inside of me. "It's all staged. No girl in her right mind would let someone film her doing that."
"You saying that no decent white woman could ever like a black man? Calvin said somewhat angrily. "I'll have you know that my mother is white."
"I didn't know." I replied, wishing now that I had never said anything. "I didn't mean it that way."
"No I don't. I think that you hate blacks."
"I do not."
