Jennifer Randolph is lying on her bed, enjoying a second glass of Chardonnay, when she hears the unmistakable sound of fucking from next door. Early that evening, she saw her new neighbor, a handsome black man, enter the lobby of their condo complex with a beautiful white woman. She had dark hair and wore tight green shorts that exposed her long legs. Jennifer watched them with a curiosity and envy as they waited for the elevator to arrive.
Something about black men, particularly muscular black men with tight butts and strong legs attracted her. It was not something that a single blonde woman living in lily white Newport Beach advertised, but the thought never failed to arouse her. When the elevator arrived, the man put his arm around his girlfriend and stepped on. Jennifer climbed on with them.
Now the woman's gasps and moans are rising over the top of the heavy pulse of bass coming through the walls, and it's like being there. Jennifer takes another sip of wine, letting it slide down the back of her throat as she settles against a wall of pillows behind her. She shuts her eyes and imagines the couple making love next door. In her mind she sees his strong, dark fingers running up and down her smooth white thigh; his hands reaching up to cup her small breasts; his thick, full lips pressing down on her mouth; her eyes widening in pleasure and appreciation as he pushes his black manhood deep inside her.
Jennifer reaches into the bottom drawer of her nightstand for her vibrator. She fumbles for it anxiously, ready to play out her favorite fantasy.
In her mind she is strapped to a huge, waist-high table in a dark room lit by a single light. Her arms and legs are spread painfully wide with her wrists and ankles tied by nylon cords to steel posts at each corner of the table. She is naked; her sex bared and vulnerable. Out of the shadows she sees the silhouette of a heavily muscled black man enter. He walks slowly toward her. As he moves closer she sees that he is naked as well. Her hungry eyes travel the length of his rugged, chiseled physique, starting with his enormous shoulders and chest, continuing down to his narrow waist, lingering on the thick penis hanging heavy and fully exposed, moving next to his muscular thighs and legs. She feels the lust boiling inside as he stands in front of her, examining the space between her legs. The sight of his powerful naked body sends currents of aching desire through her, but she can only lift her head inches to watch him. She wonders if he can see the effect he has on her. Her nipples are erect and throbbing; the wetness inside her is now dripping down her inner thighs. The seconds tick by with agonizing slowness as he waits, growing steadily harder and thicker. She struggles to watch the transformation. The impossibly long shaft expands and curves to the left; the huge head awakens and emerges from the veined sheath of the fleshy foreskin, the pendulous balls are slung low in their sack like dark eggs, filled with fertile juice. His powerful body, his naked sex, thrills her. She anticipates the touch of his body, the contrast of his skin on hers, the pleasure of her flesh being parted, yielding to the thick mass between his legs, the physical act of coupling, her wetness, the pulsing throb of the male organ in her, the fullness, the completeness.
On her bed, Jennifer rubs the vibrator feverishly against her clitoris, imagining him moving closer, rubbing the head of his enormous erection against her. When she can stand it no longer, she shoves the vibrator fully inside her, shuddering with pleasure as she feels him thrusting deeper and deeper, again and again. From next door, she hears the bucking sounds of the bed against the wall, timing her ecstatic screams with those of the woman as she climaxes.
At 10:00 the following morning Jennifer opens the front door of her apartment and heads down the hallway in her jogging shorts to check on her clothes in the laundry room before she goes running. When she opens the door, she discovers her neighbor, the black man, holding up a pair of her wispy thong underwear that he's pulled out of the dryer.
"Excuse me," Jennifer says, reddening. "Do you mind?"
The man smiles, lifting an eyebrow in amusement as he holds the underwear out to her on the end of his finger. "My favorite kind," he says grinning.
Jennifer takes the underwear, then leans over and, without saying a word, begins pulling her clothes out of the dryer. She presses the wad of dried clothes close to her chest and slams the dryer door shut with her foot.
"Nice day for a run," he says as she turns and leaves.
To hell with the run, Jennifer thinks as she returns home, slamming the front door of her apartment behind her. She dumps the laundry on her bed, strips off her running shorts and shirt and stands naked in front of the full-length double mirrors on her closet doors. She has the classic Southern California look: shoulder length blond hair, her mother's fine features, small, firm breasts. She touches the tips of her nipples, then runs her fingers through her hair and checks her ass in the mirror. Everything looks good, she tells herself. Better than good.
Through the wall of her apartment she hears the pulse of music. She wraps a towel around her and goes into the living room. Through the glass door of her patio she sees the beckoning blue water of the deserted pool in the courtyard below. When she opens the glass door to the patio the whoosh of sub-sonic bass hits her full force. The air is punctuated by a rapper's angry volley. On the patio next door, several black men lean against the balcony rail. One spots her and motions to his friend.
Jennifer closes the door and goes back into her bedroom. She looks at herself in the mirror and a thrill runs down her spine. Why not? she tells herself. A few seconds later she begins searching in the second drawer of her dresser. Toward the back she finds the white bathing suit with the blue trim that she bought on a dare with her sorority sisters back in college. They told her to wear it during Spring Break but she never did. The fabric is transparent and sheer. She lets the towel drop and steps into the bottom of the bathing suit, pulling it up to her waist, feeling the narrow fabric thong of material ride up tight into the crack of her ass. In the front, fringes of dark pubic hair peak out from either side of the skimpy white fabric. She goes into the bathroom, finds her safety razor and carefully shaves, leaving a thin narrow strip of hair above her pussy. She massages baby oil over her skin, then goes back into the bedroom and slips the bathing suit back on. Through the fabric she can see the faint line of pubic hair that she left behind. Then she slides the top on and adjusts the cups over her breasts. The dark saucers of her nipples show through the gauzy material and the hard tips jut out against the fabric. All of a sudden she feels a little dizzy and light-headed. She wraps a towel around her. In the top drawer of her dresser she finds her red baseball cap and sunglasses, and shoves a magazine and sunscreen into her canvas tote.
Out in the bright sun, Jennifer senses the eyes of the men on the balcony shifting in her direction as she enters the pool area. From behind her dark lenses she sees that they are watching her as she make her way along the perimeter of the pool and drops her bag onto one of the chaise lounges. For a moment she hesitates, questioning her foolishness and the reason for what she is doing.
She takes off her hat and shakes her hair. Then she removes the towel from around her waist. She feels a thrilling surge of heat rise up in her. From the balcony a chorus of low animal whistles and cat calls rise above the music. She feels exhilarated - intoxicated by the erotic charge of showing off her nearly naked body to a gallery of admiring black men. Emboldened, she removes her sunglasses, turns and walks toward the shallow end of the pool, revealing her pale white ass to them. The voices on the balcony grow louder as she reaches the pool edge and dips her toe into the cool water. Then she descends the steps, feeling the water at her ankles, then her calves, her thighs, and then at her waist. In one fluid motion she pushes off and swims underwater until she surfaces breathless at the other end, reaches up to grasp the edge of the pool, and clears the water from her eyes. Then she swims the short distance to the steel ladder on the far side of the pool and climbs out.
The water trails through her hair and down her back. She makes sure the men on the balcony get a good long look at her bare ass as she walks back toward her lounge chair. As she leans over and spreads her towel out, she treats them to another unobstructed view for several seconds longer, then puts her sunglasses on and lies down on her back. Her nipples harden and the dark patch of pubic hair show clearly through the wet fabric of her bathing suit. The heat of the sun beats down on her as she watches the confusion on the balcony through half shut eyes.
A few minutes later she hears the patio door open. She looks over and sees her neighbor walking over toward her. On the balcony the men are laughing and shouting encouragement at him over the music. As he walks toward her, his big smile suddenly turns serious.
"I want to apologize about this morning," he says. "That was rude. I'm Sean, by the way. We've never really met."
"No problem," she says, smiling. "I'm Jennifer."
"I'm having some friends over. You're welcome to hang with us if you want."
