For a Few Moments in Time

Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Heather Williams resisted the urge to touch her tightly coiled Afro hairstyle. Instead, she focused on searching through the rack of winter coats. Finding nothing on the circular rack, she turned to the next circular rack and again resisted the urge to touch her hair.

Until this morning, the girl had sported thick wavy dark brown locks that hung down to her bra strap. Then she decided she would no longer fight her heritage. She was one quarter African-American and it was high time the nineteen year old girl embraced that fact.

Her mother, Ji-Woo 'Gigi' Williams was one half South Korean and one half Canadian. Her father, US Army Specialist Ronald Arthur Williams was Caucasian on his mother's side and African-American on his father's side.

Gigi and Ronald married while he was stationed in South Korea and he moved his new bride to his hometown. Gigi was very adept at handling prejudice and scorn; she had endured much of this from her peers and from adults in South Korea because of her mixed heritage. So she had a thick skin and had passed that on to her daughters.

"Hey, can I help you find anything?" a handsome young man asked, smiling.

"Coats," Heather said dejectedly. "I've been through just about all of them and I just cannot find anything I like."

"Okay, so tell me. What are you looking for?" the young man asked.

"Well, it's already pretty cold this winter; I need something that will you know, stand up to everything," Heather smiled at the attractive young man. "But I don't want anything all ugly, you know?"

She liked his thick blond hair and his warm brown eyes. His face was a strong one; the slightly large nose gave his otherwise somewhat bland good looks some definition.

The sports coat was taut across his chest and arms; she could just make out the bulging biceps in the tweed pattern. The white shirt looked crisply starched and the dark brown tie went with the dark brown slacks.

"Have you looked at these? The uni-sex coats?" he asked, directing her to a tall rack at the rear of the store. "See, the outer shell is waterproof, not water resistant; water PROOF. Snow and cold rain? Will not penetrate. Cold? Is bad enough. But cold and wet? Miserable; simply miserable."

"Oh! This gray..." Heather mused, running her fingers over the smooth material.

"With the lining in?" the young man continued, showing her the fleece lining inside of another coat while she admired the light gray coat. "Is rated to minus ten degrees. "And feel. Feel how soft it is."

"Oh!" Heather agreed, running her fingertips over the plush lining.

"It comes out; there's four buttons on each side and two at each cuff. You're what? About a medium?" the young man continued, finding the light gray in her size. "Now, remember; you're going to have a sweater, probably a heavy shirt on under this so it may feel just a little big right now."

She allowed him to slip the coat on her frame. He gently pulled her to a free standing three sided mirror. She admired the front, the left and the right side view of the mid-calf length coat.

"This can be worn casual," the young man continued, looping the belt around her slim waist as he stood behind her. "Or, when it's cold, cold, cold outside? Buttoned with the five buttons then tied off to keep that body heat in."

She wanted to lean into his loose embrace. Looking into his warm eyes in the three way mirror, she wanted to press her full lips to his. He lingered a moment too long, then stepped away so that she could again look at her reflection in the mirror.

As he rang up the coat, he glanced at his wristwatch and smiled.

"Miss Williams: In the Auditorium? There is the Winter Park Exhibit. It would be the perfect place to show off that beautiful new coat of yours," he suggested.

"Hmm?" she mused.

"So, if I picked you up; there's a Benny's Burger Bar close to the auditorium, then we'll see the sculptures?" he suggested, a light blush playing across his face.

I uh, I'm vegan," she said.

Benny's has a black bean burger," he said.

At just after seven that evening, he knocked on her door. Heather hurried into the last sweater on the pile of sweaters on her bed and hurried to the door. Ever the gentleman, he helped her into her brand new coat and walked her down to his old sedan. With no embarrassment, he admitted it had been his mother's car and he would drive it until the wheels fell off of it.

Benny's burger Bar did have a black bean burger. He was unapologetic as he bought a half pound all-beef burger. He was also unashamed to heap the melted nacho cheese onto the bun.

"Do you know what's in..." she began and he softly put his finger against her lips.

"Yes I do. And, no, I don't want to hear it," he smiled.

Hand in hand, they strolled the exhibit. Both were dutifully impressed at the artistry of the ice sculptures. At the center of the auditorium was a 'Santa's Village' and he persuaded Heather to sit on Santa's lap and tell old jolly St. Nick what she wanted for Christmas.

"Only if you will," she laughed.

She posed, smiling for the camera. With a shrug, he sat on Santa's knee and whispered something to the man then smiled a playful smile for the photographer. He bought two apiece of the photographs, keeping one set for himself. Then they returned to her apartment for cups of hot cocoa; she used almond milk.

Giving her a chocolate flavored kiss, he helped her out of her sweater. After a few more kisses, her lacy bra fluttered to the floor of her small living room. If he was disappointed with her 32B chest, his fingers did not hint at that disappointment.

After a few heated kisses, his lips sought out her small dark nipples. He apparently had seen one or two breasts in his life; he was skilled at sucking nipple. Soon she was writhing, poised on the brink of climax from his breast play alone.

She gasped, then groaned in protest when he ceased suckling her breast. With a soft kiss to her lips, he helped her out of her jeans; she'd kicked off her boots the moment they'd entered her apartment. He smiled as he shrugged out of his sweater and dress shirt. His shoes wound up underneath her coffee table and he resumed playing with her breasts while his fingers now toyed with the sodden crotch of her panties.

Heather was the one to suggest they take this all to her bedroom. With a smile, he stepped out of his thick khaki trousers then his thermal underwear. She admired the micro-brief underwear and admired the portion of the thick cock that jutted out of the top of the skimpy briefs.

She was slightly embarrassed by the pile of clothing strewn on her bed and on the floor of the bedroom. He silenced her stammered apologies and assurances that she was normally quite neat and organized with a kiss.

Sliding her panties down revealed a wispy mat of black pubic hair. The thin strands did not cover her slit; her purplish pink inner lips protruded, wet and puffy with her excitement.

Kneeling on the carpeted floor, he looped her thighs over his shoulders and feasted on her. He used tongue and fingers to bring her closer and closer to orgasm. Then, when she was hunching his face, he stood and plunged himself into her with one strong thrust. Heather squealed in climax, but his mouth muffled most of the scream. He pounded her hard and fast, then slowed to short jabs that rubbed deliciously along her vaginal walls. Then, as her climax grew near, he again pounded her into her mattress with long, hard thrusts.

"Oh! Oh my God yes!" she shrieked.

They both laughed when her neighbor pounded on the wall that separated her bedroom from theirs. He kissed her, then brought his mouth to her hard nipples. After sucking both nipples while treating her pussy to his abdomen tightening short jabs, he whispered he was close and began to hammer her once more. She used one of her pillows to muffle her shriek of pleasure and he groaned, pumping stream after stream of semen into her pussy.

She went into her bathroom and sponged her pussy clean. Then she brought the threadbare face cloth to him and cleaned his cock; first with her mouth, then with the rough cloth.

He helped her put the mound of discarded clothing away, then they lay on the bed and kissed and touched. She decided to reward him and knelt at his waist, taking him into her mouth.

Heather was quite skilled at sucking cock; she enjoyed the act of fellatio. She enjoyed the taste, the smell and the texture of a man's cock.

"Only if they know how to keep it clean," she amended in her mind.

He did know how to keep his cock clean. The aroma wafting from him was a manly scent and she groaned her approval.

His warm eyes stared at her happy face as she bobbed up and down the length of his cock. A few times, she choked, but persevered and managed to swallow him down to the root.

"Oh, oh sweet girl, sweet girl, I, I'm about to..." he warned just as she was about to stop; her jaws ached.

Two vigorous strokes with her fist and he spurted heavily into her mouth. Heather swallowed all he had to give and smiled in triumph as she pulled her sore mouth from his fat cock.

"Have, have you ever done um, you know, um, anal? Up the butt? I mean, Jesus, you, you've really got the perfect ass for it," he asked and Heather mutely shook her head.

She'd had other boyfriends, other one night stands, other quick, down and dirty fucks ask for her ass. Heather had never agreed to it, though. She just knew it would hurt, hurt far greater than any pleasure she would ever derive from the vulgar act. Looking into his hopeful eyes, any reservations melted away.

"Go slow," she whispered, finding the jar of petroleum jelly.

That first stab of his thick finger sliding into her tightly clenched anus caused her to grunt and shudder. He just waited, kneeling behind her. Then, he slowly rotated the finger inside of her, making slowly widening circles. When he added a second finger, she thrust her hips back to meet his thrusting fingers.

"Augh, you, you better fuck me," she groaned, panting as she could feel a warmth growing in her guts.

When she felt the greasy head of his cock pressing against her greasy anus, she involuntarily clamped down. He gently persisted, pressing the blunt head of his cock against her greasy hole.

"Augh! I, oh, oh God!" she groaned, a strangled scream caught in her throat.

"Oh God, oh God, so good, so good," he moaned as his fat knob pushed past her resisting anus.

She again muffled her scream in her pillow. Waves of searing pain radiated from her anus outward as his cock stretched her struggling, resisting anus. She could feel him pushing into her, stretching her, stuffing her full of his cock. And, yet, there was also a curious warmth in her twisted, knotted guts. When he pulled his hands from her hips and reached down between her legs, Heather pressed the pillow tightly against her face and howled in climax.

She shuddered and groaned loudly when she felt his scrub of light brown pubic hairs rasping against her stretched, raw anus. She felt so full; it was an odd, uncomfortable feeling. When he began to pull out of her bowels, she shuddered and groaned, feeling his fat shaft rubbing deliciously against her rectal walls.

"Oh Jesus God yes!" she shrieked into her pillow when he diddled her clitoris with his skilled fingers.

"Damn, so good, so good!" he moaned, then stiffened. "Oh! Oh, aw, aw God!"

She let out another shriek as she felt his semen flooding into her bowels. He held himself firmly inside of her backdoor, shuddering and grunting with each blast of his climax. Finally, he breathed out a heavy sigh and pulled his wilting cock from her abused rectum.

She again cleaned his sticky cock with the damp face cloth. She made him laugh happily when she declared they would do that again. Now that she knew it was nothing to fear, she wanted to do it again and again.

"And again and again... But just with you," she amended, kissing him.

She woke up in the dark bedroom. His side of the bed was cool to the touch. A glance at the alarm clock told her that it was six forty five; still dark outside. He had told her he had a class at eight o'clock and another one at ten and then he would be putting in another eight hours at Welman's Boutique. Her anus gave a slightly painful twitch and she smiled happily.

Five days later, Heather was beyond pissed. Five days after their wonderful Winter Park date and she'd heard nothing from him. Pulling on her new coat over her distressed jeans and cardinal red turtleneck, Heather took the two buses down to the neighborhood of Welman's Boutique. Her boots clacked noisily on the sidewalk as she stomped toward the door.

A middle-aged man looked up in alarm when Heather stormed into the small showroom. He regarded her warily as she swept the entire store with angry eyes.

"Where is he?" Heather finally demanded of the man, not noticing his reddened eyes.

Heather felt faint, gripping the counter when the man told her of his robbery and murder. As the man gave what details he knew, she recognized the street name; it was the street right in front of her apartment. She wondered if it had been the two gunshots that had roused her from her deep, happy sleep that morning.

Seven weeks later, Heather could not deny it; she was pregnant with his baby. She had bouts of elation and bouts of severe depression. She had a silly photograph of him, perched on Santa's knee; she would be able to tell his son or daughter that Daddy had been an extremely handsome, loving man.

"And, Jesus God, did Daddy know how to fuck," Heather giggled, then burst into sobs.

February 14th, sluggishly making her way into the lobby of her apartment building, Heather checked her mailbox. Her new manager was making life difficult for everyone; if she did not need the income, need the insurance coverage, especially now that she was pregnant, she would have told the manager to shove his job up his pasty-white ass.

"See?" she smirked, seeing that month's utility bill waiting for her. "I need this damned job."

There was also a long flat box wrapped in plain prown paper. The box was addressed to her, but there was no return address visible.

"Just thinking of you," the simple note inside of the box said.

The sterling silver heart silhouette dangled from a twenty inch box link silver chain. There was no signature on the card; there didn't need to be a signature. Heather knew where it came from.

"After all," she mouthed, slipping the chain over her neck. "St. Valentine is the patron saint of love. Thank you, baby. I love it."

"And I miss you," she thought as a tear trickled down.

In her fifth month, standing in the maternity section of a local discount store, Heather idly flipped through some cute blouses. So far, nothing had really caught her fancy, though. As the newly appointed manager of her department, she wanted to look professional but not dowdy. None of these blouses were suitable for the work place.

Thinking of the firing of her misogynistic manager did cause Heather a momentary smile. Thinking of her surprise and delight when the powers that be decided to promote her to the vacated position caused her to smile widely as she idly wandered to the next rack in the maternity department.

"Hi! Anything I can help you find?" a deep, sonorous voice asked.

Turning, Heather saw a cute red head with a slightly gap-toothed smile. He wore the uniform of the store; Heather could see that his muscled chest stretched the uniform shirt taut.

"Yeah; tell me you know how to fuck. I am so tired of buying batteries," Heather thought to herself as she gazed at the tall, muscular salesperson.

"No. Not really. I just, I just can't seem to find anything," she said out loud.

"Well, we just got some dresses in," he suggested, pointing to where he had been putting the new arrivals on a circular rack. "Summer colors are finally here."

"Hmm," Heather said, liking the look of a light yellow dress.

"I uh, hey, there's a, they're doing an Evening in the Flowers exhibit at the auditorium tonight; playing this selection of Mozart," the salesperson stammered, face flushed with an adorable blush.

"Oh? Oh! Yeah, I heard about that; it's all exotic orchids and stuff," Heather agreed as he put her new dress into a bag.

"And, it would be the perfect place for you and me to show off that pretty dress," he suggested.

"Oh?" she asked, a playful smile on her pretty face.

The End

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

I thank you for reading my stories. I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my works, those that 'Favorite' my words.

This is an entry for the VALENTINES DAY 2025 Contest. Please be sure to take a moment to vote for this and for the other excellent stories in this contest. Thank you.

This is one of those anomalies; there are no characters from any other JimBob44 story making an appearance in this tale.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.