What category this story ends up in is Literotica's call. I have put it in Interracial, but it would also fit in Mature and Fetish. It's about an older white man and a younger black woman. She keeps her body natural and the man likes it that way. If anything there offends you, you probably won't like this story. Otherwise, please enjoy.
***
"Kenya!" I exclaimed after the cashier greeted me by name, and although I knew she was there I hoped my pretending to be shocked at seeing her rang true.
"Long time no see, Mr. Taylor," Kenya said, her big white teeth made even brighter by the chocolate lips and ebony skin that surrounded them. "How you been?"
"Okay," I lied, and I knew that Kenya saw through that one, because while it had been almost four years since Kenya had stopped being a fixture around our house, they hadn't been good ones for me.
Four years ago my wife had left me, having grown tired of life out in the middle of nowhere, and while I sensed she was unhappy, there wasn't much I could do about it because this was my home, Remsen, New York. It's where I was born, went to school, and worked, and also where I fell in love.
The former Mrs. Taylor not only left, she took our daughter Emily with her, and that was what really hurt. Then again, I couldn't blame a then 16 year old girl for preferring a more "hip" place to live. 1971 in Remsen was a lot different than the world Emily saw on TV, and I guess also that a daughter belongs with her mother.
Kenya was Emily's friend, even though Kenya was a little younger. Emily had befriended Kenya because she felt bad that pretty much everybody either ignored her or gave her a hard time. Black people in our neck of the woods were rare, and I always thought a lot of Emily for being nice to the girl, because she seemed like a wonderful kid.
Emily might have been older chronologically, but Kenya was more mature in many ways. Wiser in a street-smart sense, and while Kenya was not a raving beauty, she had something about her that I suspected would break a lot of hearts along the way.
Kenya was now working the register at the local IGA grocery store, and I had noticed her when walking past the store the other day. Even though it had been four years since I had seen her, she seemed much the same as back then. Long and lean, Kenya still looked as sleek as a leopard, probably close to 6' tall, and while she hadn't filled out in the ways girls do as they become women, she had a way about her.
Behind the store name tag with KENYA printed on it, her breasts were still only modest bulges in the uniform top, and while her bottom was still bigger than her top, her rear-end wasn't all that much out of proportion with the rest of her.
"You hear from Emily?" Kenya asked, her voice stirring me out of my daydreaming, and when I told her that I did every week, she told me to say hello for her.
"She coming up to see you at all this summer?" Kenya asked while I fumbled with my wallet.
"No, not this year," I responded. "She's taking summer classes as some sort of accelerated program."
"Too bad. I would have liked to have seen her again," Kenya said. "Maybe we could have gone back to the swimming hole like old times. Remember that?"
"Oh sure, " I said and added in jest, "If it stays this hot I might go back there."
"I still do," Kenya said with a grin.
"You do?"
"You don't mind, do you Mr. Taylor?" Kenya asked with a grin.
"Heavens no. Just be careful because there's no lifeguard there any more," I cautioned.
"I know. I was kinda hopin' you would come back some time though," Kenya said. "I go back there a lot after work, about 6:30 to cool off. You ought to join me sometime."
"Maybe I will," I said, shivers running down my back when those long ebony fingers brushed against mine, and as I made a hasty retreat I remembered why I thought it was probably for the best that Emily had moved away.
***
I used to play lifeguard back at the tiny pond that was way down the hill at the back of our land. The pond wasn't really on my property, but was not really well known at all, so usually it was just Emily and Kenya splashing around back there.
Although Emily was older and more physically mature in many ways, Kenya had certain qualities that got my attention. I never did anything, of course, and as time went on I tried to pass off my lifeguard duties to my wife just to make sure.
There was no crime in looking, but I wanted to avoid any chance of getting involved in anything. Kenya was like most teen-aged girls, flirting playfully with men, probably like my daughter did when I wasn't around, so I avoided being back there just in case.
The way Kenya had talked to me that day at the market though, actually being happy to see me and making a point to let me know that she still went back there to swim and the times she would be back there? What did that mean? Was that an invitation?
***
After locking up my modest little insurance office for the day, I drove home slowly, not really sure of what I was going to do. What I wanted to do was certain, but I remembered that while I was curious and lonely, one of the few things that could make my existence even worse was to have my name dragged through the mud by doing things to a young girl.
Maybe she wasn't teasing, but if I had misinterpreted her words and it turned out she was just an innocent kid who wanted to chat about old times, a mistake like that could cost me one of the few things I had that I still cherished. My good name.
In my mind I tried to do the math. Kenya was a couple of years behind Emily in school, so while she was still young, she had to be 18 because Emily was 20, so I fought to keep the word 'child' out of my mind.
By the time I got home I knew that I would go down to the little pond. It was still a nice walk on a stuffy late afternoon, so after I pulled up the driveway of my home and threw my briefcase on the kitchen chair, I was prepared to stroll down to see if Kenya was there when the phone rang.
It was one of my customers, a client who owned a farm equipment place out on Route 12, and while I always happy to take care of my policy holders any time of the day or night, I was fidgeting as he went on, the clock ticking away.
I managed to answer all his questions but by the time I got done it was 6:35. Skipping out the back door, I realized too late that I was still dressed in my grey suit, not having changed like I had planned. The sight of a middle-aged man briskly walking through a field would have been funny had any neighbors been within sight, but that was one of the joys of living out in the sticks.
The path that Emily had worn into the brush had nearly disappeared from lack of use, but I managed to stay on the faint trail as it wound down the slope of the hill. Kenya, if she really was still going back here, must be still walking along the tracks that led from town and going back home the same way.
I felt like a fool, hustling back there in hopes that my leg wasn't being pulled, but even if it was a fool's mission, it was better than sitting alone at home, watching TV and eating some microwaved disaster. As I walked, the scene became more familiar, and I could almost picture Emily and Kenya back there playing in that little puddle that probably seemed like an ocean to them back then.
Making the turn around the patch of trees, I noted that while it was a bit overgrown back there, it was still a cute place to swim, and cursed myself for not coming back here before. I guess the memories back there were too strong.
It was quiet back there, so quiet that I knew Kenya would not be back there, which is why I did a double take when in the little pond no bigger than a basketball court, I saw Kenya. At first I thought the pond must have gotten deep because the water was up to Kenya's shoulders, but then I realized she was kneeling.
Kenya didn't notice me at first, so I was treated to a view of her from the side, and she looked amazing. Her Afro was cut much shorter than it had been back in the day, when she had a wild blown out style, and I thought that this shorter cut suited her better. Her flared nostrils and thick lips looked magnificent from this angle, and I could have stayed there and looked at her forever had she not noticed me arrive.
"Bout given up on you, Mr. Taylor," Kenya smiled as I walked over to the rocks where I spent many hours sitting.
"Got a call just as I got home," I mumbled while easing down on the larger rock and looked down at Kenya who was knee-walking close to me.
"You don't look like you're ready to swim," Kenya said as the water lapped at his prominent collarbone.
"Don't even have a suit that fits anymore," I mentioned, because while I was in decent enough shape for a 45 year old guy, I was looking my age more and more as time went on.
"Don't need no suit," Kenya declared. "I ain't wearin' one."
I took a deep breath at that, looking over at the backpack on the ground that had a towel inside of it, and on the rock where Kenya's jeans were folded. Alongside them, her bra and panties rested, and next to them, her IGA uniform top, the light blue darkened by the sweat on the back and under the sleeves.
Kenya was naked, and I was frozen there on the rock, looking like a fool in my suit coat and tie. I finally undid the tie and slipped off my suit coat before sitting back down, and Kenya seemed to enjoy my discomfort.
"You all sweaty," Kenya teased. "Nice and cool in here. You can keep your underwear on if you modest."
"I don't think you deserve to see an old wreck like me."
"Shucks, I remember when you came in swimming with us a couple of times back then," Kenya said. "I remember telling Emily - girl, your Daddy look fine in a bathing suit."
"Gee," I mumbled. "If I did, those days are long gone."
"Still look fine to me," Kenya said, rubbing water on her slender shoulders while I tried not to look when her breasts began to emerge from below the water.
