If Only Id Have Known Sooner

If I'd known how easy it was going to be I would have started a lot earlier but my father had always warned me ever since I was knee high to a grasshopper to leave white women alone because they just weren't worth the trouble. How wrong he was.

My family was originally from Nigeria but I was born and raised here and I grew up learning how racist this country is. My parents and their generation experienced first hand that racism meant being chased down the streets by gangs and being spat on when you were on the bus. It meant getting into a fight just because you'd asked a white girl for a dance. Things have changed though and now it is more "underground" and more discreet and subtle and you don't notice it unless you look for it. Oh sure the white people I meet are very nice and polite to my face but I can tell that they didn't take me seriously. Wherever I go I am the only African in the room and people always look at me as an exotic curiosity and make me feel like a child and are always astonished at how good my English is and that I have a university degree and a good job that allows me to have the same standard of living that they enjoy.

Then one day I met Ochi at a revival meeting at our church. He was wasn't a member of our church, or of any other church for that matter, and he'd only come that day to accompany his sick mother. Anyway I was introduced to him and we talked briefly. A few weeks after our first meeting I bumped into him again quite by chance and we went and had a couple of drinks. We talked about this and that and it turned out we had a lot in common. For one thing our families came from the same province in Nigeria and for another we agreed that this country was racist. We talked and compared notes in all the ways that white people in this country belittled black people.

'Even when they talk about "fighting racism" and "equality" and "justice" they make it sound like they are doing us a favour man,' Ochi said. He even went so far as to say it was wrong that I was a Christian because being a Christian was just one more way the white man had enslaved Africans and he thought that being educated by the white man merely taught the black man to accept his fate.

But then he surprised me by saying, 'mind you man...racism isn't always a bad thing.'

I asked what he meant.

He gave a wicked laugh, 'you never played the "race card" my man?'

I didn't quite follow his drift. So he explained. It was a great way of getting white women into bed.

According to him there are plenty of dumb white bitches (as he called them) willing to go to bed with you just to prove that they

weren't

racist.

'You should try it man,' he said.

I reminded him that I was married with two boys.

He merely shrugged his shoulders. 'You don't know what you're missing,' he said 'those dumb white bitches can't get enough of a big black cock.'

I had my doubts. I didn't buy into this urban myth of the black man being some sort of sexual predator. That sounded a bit racist to me. We are human beings after all in the image of God and not wild animals foaming at the mouth with lust.

'I'm telling you the truth man. They are all whores. They have no virtue or honour. They are

so

easy.'

But I wasn't convinced. I was a happily married man and besides I hadn't forgotten my father's advice.

But on the other hand once Ochi had planted the seed in my head it did sprout and start to grow. I just couldn't help it. Was it really as easy as Ochi said it was? Did all I have to do was snap my fingers and they would fall at my feet? Was it true that white women fantasized about having sex with black men like he said they did? Did they really all get a secret erotic thrill by daring to taste the forbidden fruit? Would I really have to do no more than show her that I was hung like a horse for a white woman to collapse into a sexual frenzy? That sounded like another urban myth.

Imagine you were an a desert Island with a beautiful woman and you could force yourself on her knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Would you give in to your evil lustful impulses? Not at first maybe. But one day you would but I wouldn't. That was not the kind of man I was. We are not animals that live by our primeval impulses. We are not savages and I know the difference between right and wrong. All the same I couldn't get the idea of it out of my head and I even began to wonder what white women I knew that I would like to be alone with on this desert island.

There was "Sophia Loren" for one. Her real name was Harriet but in the office we all called her "Sophia Loren" because she was the spitting image of the famous Italian actress. She had the same big eyes, wide mouth and straight nose and the same lovely short curly black hair and a lovely dark complexion, coffee coloured or olive which ever you prefer. You couldn't take your eyes off her. And her voice just added to her magnetism; it was a deep throaty purr just like a cats. The way she moved with effortless grace and elegance was utterly mesmerising. Some of the blokes in the office thought her mouth a bit too wide or that her nose was a bit too long but that is just nitpicking in my opinion. Put them all together and the result was amazing.

The only problem with her though was that she was not easy to get along with because for one thing she didn't seem to have a sense of humour and she took herself very seriously and didn't suffer fools gladly. All the blokes in the office had tried it on with her and all of them had got absolutely nowhere. Some took the rejection better than others but they all wondered what she must be like in bed. I wondered too but thought she would be too hard a nut to crack and so I would never know the answer to that question.

And then there was Veronica and she would have been my first choice. I got to know her when she and her husband Kevin moved next door to us a little while ago. She is a vision, believe me she really is. A classic blonde with the face of an angel and the body of a Greek goddess and an amazing Colgate smile. There is something special about blondes (real blondes I mean) they do seem to have a sexual charisma and an erotic aura about them that other women don't seem to have. Not only that but Veronica seemed to be quite unaware of the devastating impact she had on every man who saw her. On top of that she was very sweet and very kind she was very genuine with no airs or graces about her at all.

Kevin is a nice guy and I like him but there was nothing outstanding about him I could see that would make a woman like Veronica fall for him. She is way out of his league and I just didn't understand what she saw in him and even though I tried not to I couldn't stop thinking to myself; "this is a woman I want. I

must

have this woman!" I was convinced that given half I chance I would be able to show her that I was the better man. Yet I had to admit that they seemed very much in love and when I saw them together they only had eyes for each other.

Then one day the African Gods led by Eshu "the great trickster" came to my aid. One Sunday afternoon I was attending a small social gathering organised by our church and Kevin and Veronica had been invited. When they arrived it was clear they weren't talking to each other. I don't know what had happened but it was obvious they'd had an argument about something or other. After a couple of hours or so and completely out of the blue Veronica asked me if I wouldn't mind taking her home. This surprised me as she could easily have asked somebody else but at the time I assumed it was because everybody else had been hitting the booze except me as I'm teetotal.

So I drove her home and every now and again I'd look at her through the rear view mirror and saw her staring angrily out of the window her arms firmly clamped across her chest. The silence was starting to get a bit uncomfortable and so to try and warm up the atmosphere a little I asked,

'Trouble in paradise?'

'Oh!...men?'

'What have we done now?'

'You are so stupid.'

'Not all of us surely?'

'He's such a thoughtless ass?'

'Who?..Kevin?'

'Who else?'

'Well, whatever he's done I'm sure he'll realise his mistake soon enough and apologise.'

'Not him! Oh no...not

him

!'

Silence again. She sounded really angry.

'I bet you don't treat your wife like he treats me.'

I shrugged my shoulders and held my piece.

'I don't know why I married him?' she then said bitterly as she stared out of the window. I didn't reply to that either. I had no idea what to say and anyway I didn't think she was talking to me.

We reached her house and she suddenly asked me if I would like to come in for a bit because, she said, she needed the company. She led me into the living room and invited me to help myself to a drink and make myself comfortable while she went upstairs and got changed. While I sat on the settee nursing my drink the words of Ochi rattled around my head. When she came down she was wearing what I can only describe as a sheer see through negligee full length and frilly around the edges and sleeveless. But it left very little to the imagination! I stared at her like a damn fool with my mouth open and Veronica obviously noticed because she suddenly smiled and asked me if I liked it. I tried to say something but the words didn't come out.

Then she said rather sadly, 'Kevin doesn't. He disapproves. He says its too revealing.'

She made herself a drink took a sip and put it down on the coffee table and said she was feeling a bit peckish and was going to make herself a snack and did I want anything?

She sauntered off into the kitchen leaving me with a churning stomach and a heart rate that was tearing me apart and an erection that was threatening to tear through my trousers. Because it was clear to me that she was making a play for me. What else could all these hints and winks and nudges mean? Why else had she asked me to drive her home? She could have asked Emma or Susan for instance? Why had she invited me into her house? Why had she told me how angry and unhappy she was with Kevin? Clearly he was not the man she thought she had married and why had she changed into such a sexily provocative attire which was practically an invitation for a man to rip it off her back. A woman is never disappointed in a man unless he is bad in bed. A man can be a real dog but if he satisfies his woman sexually she will put up with it. Obviously Kevin was failing her as a man and Veronica was now telling me that she was looking for someone better and that she was available because she thought I was that someone. I picked up the drink she had left on the coffee table and followed her into the kitchen.

She had her back to me. I came up behind her put my arms around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck. Veronica gave a little shriek and jumped but I hung on to her.

'What...what?'

'What am I doing?...what does it look like.'

'Please stop.'

'But I thought we were friends?'

'We are. But...it's just. Well, I can't.'

'Can't?'

'I like you but...'

'Are you telling me you have a problem with black people?'

'I don't! It's not

that

.'

'Sounds like it to me.'

'It's not. Honest.'

'What then?'

'I don't. It's just...well, you

know

I'm married.'

'Of course I know

that

you silly girl. But I don't want to marry you.'

'So...?'

'I just want to fuck you.'

'What? I mean..but..'

'I just want to use you for sex.'

I thought she was going to faint. My brazen declaration of intent knocked all the stuffing out of her.

I should have taken her into the living room or carried her upstairs and thrown her onto the bed but I couldn't wait. I wanted her

now

! I picked her up and threw her down on the kitchen table like a sack of potatoes and started to rip off her flimsy garments. Veronica did her best to cover her modesty but I roughly pulled her hands away and savoured the sight in front of me. What a body!

Full and firm and rich. It lay there invitingly gleaming like gold. Her sleek arms, her firm round breasts, her rich flat and smooth belly and the graceful legs, the sweep of her thighs, her modest bush of blonde pubic hair guiding me to her treasure.

'Oh God!...No!' she howled.

'By the time I've finished you'll be thanking me.'

'You black bastard!'

'That's not a very nice thing to say!'

'You people are nothing but animals!'

Another racist! What a surprise! Well this one wasn't going to get away with it. I ran my hand over her luscious body and felt it tremble under my touch. I slapped her legs apart and pushed my fingers into her pussy. She let out a sob and her body arched. I kissed her glorious breasts and nibbled on her hard nipples. I kissed and licked my way down her belly and kissed and licked her inner thigh enjoying her musky aroma.

'Please...'What are you going to do to me?' she asked in a trembling whisper.

'Fuck you brains out you cock hungry little bitch!'

'Please don't.'

'You're a filthy whore and you need to be fucked hard and often..just like a whore.'

'Oh God!' she wailed shaking her head from side to side 'Oh God, no!'

I fucked her like a cowboy breaking in a mustang pounding her relentlessly harder and harder and without mercy. I just smashed by big black cock into her until her body simply buckled.

Ochi was right. Because she had started by crying out; "No! No! No!" and had ended up by screaming "Yes! Yes! Yes!" like a woman possessed by demons.

'Oh God!...Yes! Fuck me!' she yelped through gritted teeth. She didn't want to submit but had given up resisting the murderous sexual craving that I had awakened in her.

'You like that you dirty little bitch?...Feeling better?'

'Oh...I'm so bad. I'm so bad! Beat me! I'm so bad!

And I did beat her; with my big black cock. It was a club a truncheon a hammer and I was punishing her without pity. I had complete power over her and it was intoxicating. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely and these was nothing more powerful than sexual power.

'Enjoying that?' I cried like a crazy man.

'Oh that was so good...

so

good!'

'You needed that! Didn't you? You

needed

that!'

'Oh God! Yes! I'm sorry. So sorry!'

I owned her now. She belonged to me. She was my property and she knew it. It was a complete humiliation to realise that you were not a "lady" or a "good" person but quite the opposite that you are debased. I had revealed her own depraved sexual desire and it was both terrifying and exhilarating and from now on she would no longer be able to control it. From now on I was the master and she was my sex slave and there was nothing she could do about even if she wanted to because she was hooked on my big black cock and I had every intention of gorging myself on her and plunder her like a horde of marauding bandits looting a village.

But all the same when I was back home my head was full of doubts. My passion had cooled and now my brain was back to normal and I was thinking rationally again. I couldn't help but think that I had made a terrible mistake and that I had done a terrible thing. I half expected to hear police sirens I half expected to see Kevin with a shotgun standing on my front door step. But days passed and nothing happened. But I was still feeling a little nervous about what would happen when I actually bumped into Veronica again. So when Kevin asked me round for a couple of drinks one afternoon I accepted as I was desperate to see Veronica again but at the same time I was filled with trepidation of what would happen when I did. I felt a bit like a scientist who had staked his reputation on a risky experiment and had left it to bubble away in his laboratory for a few days but was now coming back to lift the lid and look inside very worried that it might not have worked.

But I needn't have worried because the experiment had been a complete success. I was going up the stairs when I met her on the landing. She looked me like a child expecting a beating. I was determined to give her one. I put my hands on her hips and pushed up against the wall behind her.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

'Aren't you going to force yourself on me again?'

'Not unless you beg me to.'

'And why would I do that?'

'Because you are utter filth.'

'How could you do that to me?'

'You loved it,' I said.

'How

dare

you say that.'

'But you made it so

easy

for me'.

She looked embarrassed.

'Just admit it. You like it big and black. You like it nasty.'

Her face went bright red.

'You like to be fucked like a whore...'

'Just stop it! Stop saying things like that.'

'Don't you believe me?' I took her by the arm and pushed her into a nearby room. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it.

'Let's see who is lying.'

'Don't...'

'Now beg. Get on your knees and

beg

.'

'No. Why should I?'

'Got on your knees and

beg

!'

'No. I wont. You can't make me.'

But she couldn't help herself. She fell to her knees looking embarrassed and feeling foolish.

'Please don't make me. I...'

'Say it you dumb bitch.'

Her head was sunk into her chest and the words slid out of her mouth in a barely audible whisper.

'Please fuck me.'

'Louder!'

'Fuck me.'

'Say it properly. Say it like you

mean

it.'

She started to cry then. Ah!...music to my ears!

'

Please

!

Fuck

me! I beg you!'

That's better. I stood there with my hands on my hips and told her to unzip me and take out my big black cock. She looked a little shocked, even disgusted. Then with trembling hands she fumbled with my zip and then with her fingers clumsily searched out my big black cock and finally managed to haul it out.

She looked up at me, 'please may I suck your cock?'

Now that was the kind of begging I'd wanted to hear because she really

meant

it this time.

'Think you can handle all of that?' I said with a smirk.

She hesitated.

'It tastes as good as it looks,' I leered.

She wrapped her hands around it and began to stroke it. I took a sharp intake of breath. Jesus!

And then she kissed my "jap's eye" and began to lick my bell end. Then slowly and carefully she put her lips around it and my big black cock slowly disappeared into her mouth and down her throat and I started to fuck her face. She looked up at me and she was clearly ashamed of how much she was enjoying it.

The irony was though that even though we were neighbours I found it difficult if not downright impossible sometimes to meet Veronica. It wasn't as if I could just get up from the settee with my wife and children in the house and just pop round to her house with Kevin sitting on his settee. So the only way we could meet up on anything like a regular basis was to arrange an assignation in town. I'd fuck her in my car, in an alleyway, in the park. I remember once fucking her at a bus stop! We sometimes met up in a cinema and her head was in my lap as I tried to concentrate on the film.

If I didn't see her every day and fill her up with my big black cock I suffered physical torture and mental turmoil. I was like a man who had failed to take his medication and as a consequences was afflicted with the most debilitating withdrawal symptoms.

But then once again Eshu came to my aid. Bob Perkins our Head of department at the company where I worked was retiring. He was a much valued and much loved colleague. We would all miss him. And "Sophia Loren" would miss him more than anyone else. He was a sweet old boy who had treated her like a daughter and had been very indulgent with her and had done her a lot of favours over the years. Her husband was disabled and she needed a lot of time off to take care of him and because he could no longer work money was short but Bob had somehow managed to bump her up salary to a higher pay grade not to mention extra holidays and her own expense account.