Let's imagine for a moment that you're at a bar drinking with two attractive women. How, this happened isn't that important but for the sake of story let's just say they're people you knew back in University and you all reconnected in London a few years after graduating. So, you're at this bar having a good time, alcohol flowing, jokes are flying and even though you're not really interested in pursuing either of them, you throw some flirtatious comments here and there. As always when alcohol is involved the topic invariably turns towards sex, and voices lower as we start to share our latest, most adventurous sexual exploits to the hilarity of the group. It's during all this enlightening banter that you're hit with a question.
"So, umm...is it true...what they say about black guys. That they all have big dicks?"
It's at this moment dear reader that the number 15 flashes in your mind, for that is the number of times you have been asked that question. All of them women, all of them white, only 2 of whom wanted to fuck you. How do you answer?
I ask you this because over the course of my life I have given 14 different answers to this same question and none have felt satisfactory. "Yes''; "No"; "Bigger than average"; "That's stupid";" That's weird"; "What's your boob size?" and so on. Honestly it doesn't annoy me as much as it used to, but it still leaves me in a stressful situation because as you may have guessed dear reader, I'm black, and honestly my dick is nowhere near huge. So now I'm faced with a dilemma. I can either lie and let these girls continue to believe in fairy tales in the hope their curiosity never leads them to see one in person,(setting up both parties for disappointment and insecurity), or I can tell the truth and educate them on the racial undertones underpinning that question while simultaneously trying not to seem like I'm attacking them. But its late, and I'm tipsy so I laugh it off, mumble something over my drink and move on to more stable territory like hentai or Jasmine's adventures with a strap on, (Jasmine being the one who asked the question, Millie who so far had been watching this exchange over the rim of her wine glass, at least had the decency to look embarrassed).Thankfully the conversation didn't get awkward and the vibe stayed positive for the next hour or so till I decided to leave. I said my goodbyes and headed for the tube to get back home.
While sitting at the station waiting for the next train, I heard my name being called. "Dilim!" I looked up to see Millie walking towards me smiling, then continued to watch as she seemingly tripped over nothing and began falling. What was even more surprising was the fact she managed to trip herself directly into my lap, spread across as if she was ready to be spanked. I took this in for a moment and after deciding I found this hilarious, I immediately burst out laughing, causing a few of the other bystanders to look my way. From the look on her face apparently Millie did not find it as funny as I did which only added to my laughter.
After the initial shock she quickly removed herself from my lap to the seat next to me. "Shit. I almost broke my fucking ankle wearing these heels," she said while taking off the heels in question and shoving them into her handbag
It took me a moment to calm down before I could give a reply. "Why are you wearing heels so high anyway when we're just out for drinks?"
She raised an eyebrow at that and gave me a look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"They make me look good, and I always look good whenever I leave the house." I couldn't argue with that statement.
"Also, I just wanted to say sorry on Jaz's behalf for what she said before, I don't know you just seemed kind of uncomfortable about it, and she was just drunk...and umm yeah." She laughed nervously at this brief tirade, looking at my face to gauge my reaction.
"Sorry I'm still a bit tipsy."
"No worries, I've heard it all many times before. It joins the ranks of 'I've always had a thing for black guys', 'You look like my last boyfriend', or my personal favourite 'I love Nigerian accents'."
"Oh God. I promise Jaz is not THAT bad, it's just me and her are in this group chat and we share all types of shit on there, it's mad. So, one of us was sent a dick pick from this random guy which was shared to the group and well it was quite...big...and so the topic came up, but none of us could confirm it."
I paused the story at this point to look at her incredulously. "You're telling me that amongst all you girls, none of you have ever...you know what I'm not even surprised."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"Well you told me you both went to all girls boarding schools, and during our entire 3 years of Uni I saw you in the RnB room like twice. So, not that surprising."
"Fuck you, I was in the RnB room plenty of times, we just never went out together."
"So you're telling me I missed out on you whining on the dance floor."
She tilted her head in question. "Whining?"
"You know body rolling, hip shaking, twerking etc." I exaggerate whining into the bench my hands on my waist.
"When I was heavily drunk maybe, but generally my dancing is very, very bad."
"No, I remember dancing with you and you were pretty good. Hell, I definitely remember wanting to go home with you once or twice."
She giggled at that. I found it adorable. How tipsy was I? "Oh, fuck really?"
"Yeah, I remember one night in particular because the bouncer kicked us all out of Ink after we got with each other."
"Oh shit yeah I remember now. Jamie got drunk and stood on a table, before puking on it, and falling down."
"That was a funny story but a messy sight." We both laughed at our memories and continued reminiscing until an announcement came that the train was finally arriving.
I turned to Millie to say goodbye but that died on my lips as I saw the look on her face. She stared up at me , not saying anything just absently biting her lip as she chewed over something in her mind. Then seemingly coming to a decision as the train raced onto the platform she said,
"Do you want to try again?"
"What?", I asked in confusion.
"Going home with me, do you want to try again?"
I feel like I should interject here by saying I wasn't trying to get with Millie that night. Hell, I wasn't really attracted to her to begin with. Not that she wasn't pretty, she was, just not my type and I doubted I was hers. From what I knew she was the kind of girl whose song of choice on a night out was anything by ABBA, and whose choice of men probably played rugby at college. So, I was surprised when on that night out, she ventured down with myself and a few others in our group to the RnB room. I, being a veteran of this particular floor as well as quite intoxicated immediately dispersed into the crowd to find a partner to move to. Three songs and two girls later I drifted back to where my group had been standing. Millie was still there along with one of our course mates who currently had her arm around the neck of an Asian dude who was whispering something either incredibly funny or incredibly kinky from the way she was smiling. Sensing her impending third wheel status I took Millie by her hand and guided her a distance away to dance with me. We danced separately at first but got closer as we got more comfortable with each other.
Eventually the song changed to a Dancehall vibe and my hands slid to her waist which she didn't seem to mind. Our body's rocked to rhythm of the beat, and between the vibe and the heat even if her moves weren't amazing in that moment, she felt amazing. Suffice to say her hands wrapped around my neck, our faces moved so close I could smell the mint of gum on her breath, and then our lips were locked, my hands travelling up and down her back, grinding into each other so hard as if we could somehow overcome the thin barrier of clothing keeping us from skin to skin. It was hot, it was hungry, and by the way she looked at me when we pulled apart, I was sure that I would be taking her home before the night was over. Maybe I would've if we left then. Unfortunately, Jack decided the club decor could use some vomit, the bouncer disagreed and being the only one of us to live in the same area as him, it was down to me to make sure he got home. After that, no new opportunities presented themselves with Millie, and I passed it off as a drunken snog. But now it seemed I might get another shot. As soon as my brain started functioning again.
"What?" I replied lamely. Having temporarily shut down, that seemed to be the best response I could give. Our train doors closed and rushed on past us. I blinked to find we were now alone on the station platform. My mouth continued to stage its rebellion and I struggled to fill the growing silence.
She noted my strained response and immediately began to back away.
"Shit If I read that wrong I'm so sorry-",
This shocked me out of my stupor, and regaining my composure I stopped her before she could get any further.
"NO! No! Sorry, it's just I've never been approached so forwardly before. Especially by a woman so...so attractive. But to answer your question," I stepped forward until we were standing face to face like so many years ago.
"I'd love to." I cupped her face in both my hands and delivered 3 years of suppressed sexual tension in one kiss. It left her gasping and flushed.
The next train pulled up to the station and holding hands we get on.
The journey back to hers was a blur filled only with flashes of her lips, how they tasted, and the awkwardness of trying to walk while concealing a hard on.
But soon we were back to her place and the lights weren't even on before my shirt had been opened and her blouse had been removed. Fuck, I didn't realise how much I wanted her until I tasted her. As we fumbled together in the dark of her corridor all that raced through my mind were thoughts of doing everything imaginable to make her cum again, and again, and again till she begged me to stop for the pleasure grew too much. To push her to her edge and then push her over remaking her body till it instinctively craved my touch.
I was shocked out of this dark fantasy by her deciding to turn on the lights. The good news, this wasn't a dream. The bad news, I was not a sex god in reality, but lord knows I was going to try to be.
My hands travelled up tan thighs till they reached the pale skin protected by her dress. They gripped into her flesh lifting and carrying her while her legs wrapped around me. Our lips and tongues explored each other's mouths until the strain of doing this intensive exercise began to take its toll. However, I did manage to carry her in that same position to her bedroom where I slowly lowered her onto the bed and began to explore her body inch by inch as it was revealed to me.
I looked at her face, and all I could see was intense desire and want. Her moist lips were slightly parted, her breathing was ragged and heavy, her eyes were glazed over filled with a hunger that almost scared me, and if I could somehow look at myself I know I'd see the same kind of eyes looking down at her. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, my kisses flowed from her neck to her stomach, back up to her lips where they became bites.
