Chapter 1
Donna is a 40 year old housewife, mother, and member of a secretarial pool. Thanks to the belittling her husband gives her about her plump/full figure - she feels more like 50, but time has been kind to her, as her face still has an early 30's look to it. Sex has been more of a chore (done once weekly) since her 2nd child was born and her only outlet for fun has been staring at men - recently men of color, and thinking what it would be like to be taken by one of them, against her will at first...and turned into an accepting partner in her new sex life....thus far that is just a middle age woman's fantasy.
She walked into the local Wal-Mart at 9pm. It was a cool night, but not cold. She had been hard at work painting her new house, and she looked quite worn. She was wearing a tight white t-shirt streaked with paint. Her tits sagged a bit under the strain of her heavy brown nipples. Her un-tucked t-shirt settled loosely over her soft round pillows of ass meat, which were hugged tightly by her faded black stretch pants. She looked like a jogger (albeit a dirty one) in her white running shoes and "work-out" style clothes. She collected a cart and pushed it towards the Home Care Center. She seemed singularly focused and was not paying much attention to anyone or anything in her surroundings. She could barely lift her aching feet after a long hard day of painting, feeding the kids, and making sure her husband had enough to eat as he sat on the couch and watched football.
He spotted her moving towards the Home Care Center as he checked out the newest HDTV's on display. His eyes traveled from her disheveled dark brown hair to her pale, yet pretty (in a plain sort of way) features. Her hair was pulled back into a disheveled ponytail which had been loosened by hours of hard work. She seemed to be about 35ish give or take a few years. Her back was straight and her brown nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric of her t-shirt as she walked past him.
He was 24 years old, and his athletic body crackled with the energy of youth. He had the lanky build of a basketball player standing slightly over 6 feet tall. He seemed to weigh about 190 and his skin was as dark as a cup of hazelnut coffee.
Arriving in the paint section, she pulled the scrunchie out of her hair. Shaking her head side to side, she allowed her medium length brown hair to settle on her shoulders. Sighing, she leaned forward without noticing she had garnered some attention, and began reading the prices for paint. Her boobs jiggled loosely under her t-shirt as she moved. She absent mindedly wiggled her bottom trying to dislodge her sweaty thong from her puckered anus. Unsuccessful in either freeing her thong or finding what she wanted, she stood up and pushed the cart further back into the Home Care Center, this time stopping in front of the Lights. Rather than bending over, she squatted at the knees to look at items on the lower shelf. Her stretch pants slid down a bit and revealed the top of her hot pink thong.
The man began walking in her direction. As he passed he gazed down at her pale back and her flimsy thong riding up into view. He averted his eyes and began to examine a row of backlights to her right. She self-consciously straightened up and their eyes met for the first time.
He smiled warmly and motioned to her paint streaked t-shirt... "Rough day huh?"
She nodded tiredly..."Painting my new home."
He glanced at her wedding band and conversationally leaned forward, eyes flitting between her ring and her face..."I bet you guys are tired of painting. I wish that my woman was a trooper like you obviously are."
Smiling ruefully she said, "I'm tired of painting, moving, packing, you name it. All he's done is sit on his lazy fat ass and watch football."
He laughed at her pained expression. "Hey football is a necessary evil. I bet he doesn't complain when you are watching House."
