Chapter 3
Deanna: After several hours of fitful sleep I got out of bed and unlocked the bedroom door. Ted was sitting on the couch in the living room. I was not happy to see him there.
"Are you ready to talk to me now?" he asked.
"Sure, let's talk," I said.
He stood up and walked over to me. "Where were you last night?"
"I spent the night at a friend's apartment," I said, hoping to leave it at that but knowing Ted would not.
"And where are your clothes?"
"I spilled a full glass of wine on myself and left them at her place."
"So, you were at a woman's place last night?"
I stared at him for a few seconds. "No, I wasn't."
"So, you were with a man?"
"Yes."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"Why do you think I came home and went straight to bed," I asked.
"I just want you to say it."
I walked over to the kitchen sink and reached for a glass. Ted followed me and grabbed my wrist.
"I deserve the truth," he said.
I shook off his hand. "Okay, here's how it went." Then I told him the whole story, the bar, Lewis, everything. "And he wants me to come back tonight."
"Are you seriously thinking of going?" Ted asked.
That was the last thing I wanted Ted to say. If he had told me that he would not allow it, that he would not, under any circumstances, allow me to see Lewis again -- not at work, not in public, not anywhere -- I might have been able to resist Lewis's demand that I come back that evening. But Ted didn't say any of that. He didn't insist on anything. He just asked me if I was seriously thinking of going -- like it was up to me.
"No, I'm not thinking of going," I said at last. "I'm going."
Lewis: I would not have been surprised if Deanna didn't show that night. I would have certainly been disappointed because I definitely wanted her to show up. I knew if she did then I had her, and I wanted her. I wanted her real bad.
That night we spent together had been on my mind for over a year. Every time I saw Deanna at work, I thought about what our first night together would be like. Every time she walked past me in the hall, and I watched her sexy little ass, I dreamed about the day I would own her. You can never be sure about how a woman you've lusted after is going to turn out in the sack -- sometimes you're disappointed, sometimes not. Deanna was definitely not disappointing. She was a revelation.
Every guy who's slept with a virgin knows how special that experience can be. You're her first lover. Forever she will remember you and your time together. But virgins are, by definition, inexperienced. The sex itself, although meaningful, can be less than great. But the first time a woman, especially a married woman, cheats -- well that's something else. She's no virgin, so she knows what she's doing, and it is beyond words. Unless you've experienced it, you're missing one of life's most amazing moments. And to have that moment last all night -- that is something very special indeed.
Then compound the excitement of introducing the cheating bitch to her first interracial experience, especially for a white woman, and it is almost always mind-blowing. Maybe someday we will get to the point as a society where a white woman fucking a black man will be as every day and ho-hum as it gets, but that day has not arrived yet, oh my, no it has not. I have been told by many white women that I am not the first black man to fuck them and I know every time they are lying like the white bitches they are, because a man knows when a woman is stepping over a line that was drawn for her long ago, by her parents, by her friends, by her former or even future lovers. The old expression "once you go black you never go back" is true from a couple of different perspectives and not all of them are particularly flattering to the black man, but hey, I got no problem with soiling white women with the seed of a black man. That's what I'm talking about. I love it, they love it and let's just leave it at that.
So even if Deanna didn't show up tonight, I would always have that Friday night after work where I took her home from the bar and popped her interracial cherry and fucked her silly until the sun rose on her sore, black-cum drenched white cunt. I would always have that, even if I never saw her again, and that would be okay with me.
But she did come back.
Deanna: Poor Ted just sat on the bed in stunned silence as I put on my makeup and the sexiest dress in my closet. I put on the garter belt and stockings Ted bought for me on our honeymoon, the same ones that in two years of marriage I had never worn again for him. I didn't put on any panties.
