If Only for One Night

Marcus Horton sat in his living room, stunned. It had been an hour since Chloe McNamee had called him with the news.

He didn't want to call her back. He wasn't sure what to say.

His mind flashed back to that night at the Mirage. He was drawn to her, her skin flashing vividly pale in the middle of the dark club. She had long straight red hair, bright green eyes, a dusting of freckles and a sweet smile. She wore a tight little black dress that made her cleavage and curves extra sexy.

He had to ask her to dance. He just had to. He was filled with an unusual confidence, his body pumped with so much energy.

"Hi," he said, barely audible over the noise of the club.

"Hi there!" she replied in a noticeable accent.

"You wanna dance?"

"Absolutely. What the fuck you think I'm here for?"

Marcus smiled. "You're right."

He loved how she moved; she had the style and the moves of the sisters he knew back in West Philly. As he watched her dance, he became more aroused, thinking about what it would be like to have her naked in his bedroom.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"No!" she smiled.

"Sorry."

"Go ahead. You can ask me anything."

"I love your accent. Where are you from?"

"I'm an Aussie. I'm from Brisbane."

"Oh, cool."

"I've been in the States for about a year."

"I see. What do you do?"

"I work with my sister-she opened a restaurant in Manhattan about a year ago."

"Really? What's it called?"

"Emma's on Fifth Avenue."

"I should check it out."

"You should. The food's really good."

"Thanks for the recommendation."

Chloe smiled. "So what do you do?"

"I work for ICN, the cable channel. I'm an associate producer."

"Oh, sounds cool."

"Well, it's not that cool. But it is what it is."

"I know."

By this point, Marcus was burning with desire for Chloe. He had never been with a white woman, though he had occasionally thought about what it would be like to kiss soft pale skin and stroke silky hair. He wasn't even afraid of rejection as he leaned over and whispered in her ear, asking her if she'd like to come home with him.

"Sure," she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the earlobe.

-

As the elevator traveled to the fifth floor, Marcus could feel himself gaining even more and more energy. He had never felt this horny before, not even a decade ago when he was a teenager. Something was coming over him.

Chloe was impressed by the cleanliness of his apartment. "I've seen some pretty nasty ones," she smiled.

"Thanks. I figure as much as I'm paying for it, I should keep it clean."

"Smart man."

Chloe walked into his living room and looked out at the New York City skyline.

"This is a great view...it's really romantic."

"Thanks," Marcus replied.

She turned and walked towards him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

She smiled. "Did anyone ever tell you you look like Usain Bolt, the runner?"

"Yeah, I get that sometimes."

She touched his hand. "I take it you don't run like him."

"Huh. I wish."

"Well, I'm sure you're fast enough."

Marcus raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Chloe winked and walked back towards the window. Suddenly, she pulled down the straps of her dress, causing it to collapse to the floor. The sight of her pale back and black bra and panties in the moonlight turned him on like nothing he had ever seen before; he moved towards her sweet pale body in less than three seconds.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed.

Chloe turned towards him and laughed. "Told you."

Marcus placed his hand on her taut stomach, and Chloe smiled the contrast of their respective complexions. They embraced and kissed before they both stripped off; Chloe's eyes bulged at the sight of his erect penis.

"My God, that looks great," she cooed, caressing it with her pale hand.

It was only a few more seconds until they were in Marcus's bed, his dark skin writhing against her alabaster body, his tongue flicking against her nipples, pussy and asshole, his fingers loving the texture of her hair. Marcus loved the whole experience; the softness and beauty of her white skin, the feeling of his big cock in her tight pussy, the sound of her erotic screams. He loved fucking her, being with her; he wanted this moment to last for as long as possible.

They spent the entire weekend making love; by the time Chloe left his apartment, she was completely exhausted, and Marcus barely had any strength.

-

Marcus was scared and nervous. He wasn't sure if he was ready. He thought he'd be married before it happened-married to a black girl. He never expected this to happen.

He sighed and called her back.

"Hello?"

"Chloe."

"Marcus?"

He paused.

"Look, uh...I just wanted to say..."

He paused again and took a deep breath.

"It's-it's up to you, OK? It's your decision. I'll support you no matter what. If you want to go through with it, I'll do whatever I can, OK? I promise. I'm not going to leave you. I know what that's like. I'll never do that."

"OK," Chloe replied. "I...I want to. I want to...I'm ready to. If I'm not now, I know I'll be by the time, you know..."

"I hear you."

"I think we can make things work out. I mean, this is-it's really complicated, but..."

"Yeah. Like I said, I will be with you. I will not leave you. I can't do that."

"Thanks."

"Whatever you need, you hear me? Even if it's my last dime. I'll sacrifice whatever I have to."

"I appreciate that."

"And you're going to be great, I know that."

"You'll be great, too."

"I hope so."

"Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared?"

"Kind of."

"I am, too, a little bit. But we're in this together."

"I know. We are."

"I think it's gonna be worth it."

Marcus took another deep breath.

"I think so, too."