My Blac Angel

I couldn't believe my eyes. There was Carolin sitting in a booth drinking coffee. She was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, white or black, and Carolin was black. Or African-American, as she referred to herself.

"Hello, remember me?" I asked.

"Tommy, my God, how are you?"

"Ah, all right. A couple of turns of bad luck, but other than that..."

Carolin was alone. But then again, she was always alone. That's because she had no equal, white or black...I knew this because I was white, and at one time I was her lover.

I was embarrassed at the torn knee of my jeans and the faded flannel shirt that I wore. A symbol of the tough times I had faced. She was dressed in an expensive looking navy blue pantsuit with a top that accentuated her ample chest.

We met in Vegas. It was 1999. She was at a cosmetics convention and staying at the "Riviera Hotel." I was staying there too. She had just started a business that catered to the cosmetic needs of African-American women. I didn't know much about cosmetics. But, I wanted to know about the lady sitting at the bar with legs the length of a roulette table. She had a regal air about her. As if there were a glass shield between her and the rest of the world, and you could only look, but not touch. I hoped that wasn't true.

"May I buy you a drink?" I asked.

"Yes, you may," she said.

"What'll you have? By the way my name is Tommy Shay."

She lifted her glass to her gorgeous dark lips and drank. "This is 'Grey Goose,' and I am...Carolin."

She smiled and a sledgehammer beat at me from inside my chest. The business, she said, was going slow, but it was going to be all right. What did I do for a living? What was my favorite song? "Mona Lisa?" It wasn't her favorite, she said, but not a bad choice. I felt vindicated by this creature of such exquisite, dark beauty. Deep, dark brown skin, big, brown eyes, and her perfect, thick lips that I ached to kiss were all part of this woman who now owned me.

"I'm going to be blunt," I said. "Because I've never met anyone like you, and I know that I never will again. Would you like to come up to my room where we can be alone?"

"I don't know if I can trust you," she said. Then she found my hand, entwined her fingers with mine, brought them to her lips and kissed them. "Let's go to your room, Tommy Shay."

I closed the door and she was there, kissing me. I'm a fairly tall man, about 6 feet tall, and we were eye to eye. That excited me. Looking straight into her passionate eyes, and knowing that I belonged to this black goddess, I dropped all masculine pretense, we were no longer man and woman in the traditional sense, but two hungry lovers, one white and one black. Between lip and tongue kisses, I unbuttoned her blouse, and planted grateful kisses upon the darkest, smoothest skin, I could ever have hoped to touch.

Our tongues were a perfect match, rotating and lingering, lingering and rotating, lingering and taunting. My dick was diamond hard, Carolin knew this and unhooked my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She fell with them and caressed me through my boxers. Then she brought her hand up through the leg of the boxers and played with my expectant balls, while licking and kissing my thighs and nuzzling the front of the underwear. I lifted her up, we kissed, and fell onto the bed. I sucked hard and soft at her full, black nipples, trying to cherish and absorb the moment for all time. Her pussy was neatly shaved, and cosmetics aside, her scent was pure black woman, delicious. Then she turned me over, pinning me, kissing me from head to toe, and back again, finally stopping at my cock and balls, giving them much needed attention.

"My God, Carolin."

"Do ya like it sweetie?"

"I can't take it."

She ran her tongue lightly over the head, then it would dart into the pee slit. Her mouth would follow a vein from top to bottom all the while stealing glances at me and smiling with her eyes.

Despite the indescribable pleasure she was giving me, it was time to taste her. I needed to taste her. I wanted to taste every pore of her beautiful darkness. I placed my hand on her upper thigh and pulled her over me. I took careful time to lick, kiss, suck my beautiful black queen. This forty-five year old white man was going to drive this forty year old black lady wild.

I had always prided myself on being able to satisfy a woman. But now, I realized it wasn't me, it was something out of my control. As I licked her- feather light, and enjoying her orgasmic moans, her movements taught me that not every sexual experience was special, this was. We were in sync with every movement. With her pussy over my face, I inhaled her essence, as she moved with our mutual pleasure in mind. She bucked up and down, she swayed from side to side never stiffling her joy. My joy could not be measured as I ran my hands over her smooth, black ass. We licked, slurped, and sucked, stopping only to smile at each other.

"Oh, babe."

"I've got to have you now," she said.

I positioned her to receive me from behind. It was time. We had waited long enough. I ran my fingers lightly over her ass, I rubbed my cock from her asshole to her pussy, and I savored the smoothness of her full, black butt and the color contrast. The white cock, throbbing, entered the pussy of his woman, tonight she was his, and he was hers. Yes, it felt so right, that if the world had ended at that moment it would have been a fair trade. We had seized the moment. I spanked her ass and she gasped, then I spanked it again and she cooed her approval. Then, there it was, and I needed to hold her, so I moved from her perfect, full, dark butt, to her waist and I held her as I came a load that never seemed to stop. I squeezed Carolin, and she reached around and caressed my balls. We came together that night and many other nights over the next year.

Carolin taught me about African-American women. While I was always conscious of injustice and knew that it existed, Carolin told me of the pain she experienced being a black woman. A pain that I could never feel, perhaps that is what separated us. As a man, I was previously only aware of the physical beauty of a black woman, through Carolin, I was more able to see the inner strength and beauty that black women possessed.

Due to her ingenious marketing and sales techniques, Carolin's company was a huge success. There was more traveling involved. Jealousy and envy crept into an otherwise loving relationship, and we parted.

Things did not go well for me after we broke up. For Carolin it was the opposite, she couldn't be stopped.

"You look like you could use a little comfort," she said, motioning for me to sit next to her.

I wanted to sit, but I couldn't. I knew that she would take care of me now, and I couldn't let that happen, because I loved her.