EDITED BY:
Miriam Belle
CREATIVE CONSULTANT:
Simply_Cyn
Author's Note:
"All the best to KaSandra Jackson, who showed me the time of my life..."
*
We had been having phone sex for over a month when Kasandra suggested that we meet. This was a surprise to me for a few reasons, the most important being that we lived such a long distance from each other. She lived in Portland, OR and was living in Sacramento, CA at the time. Only pre-paid phone cards had allowed us to engage in our sexually charged phone conversations. I didn't have a lot of money to spare as living in Sacramento could get very expensive, a good example being my one bedroom apartment costing $511.00 a month. And this was the cheapest available without setting up in a place beyond Thunderdome.
Also, we didn't really know each other all that well. I knew her name, and I knew what she looked like. From her pictures, I knew she was about 5' 11", jet-black shoulder-length hair, almost obsidian eyes and a mocha complexion. Her African heritage had also graced her with unbelievably full pouting lips. She wasn't exactly thin, and she wasn't really fat. She was in that perfect midrange that allowed for smooth, fluid curves over her entire body and a full shape. Her breasts were large at 38 DD and looking at the various pictures I had of her, they had a lot of bounce.
Most importantly, I was very white and she had said a few times that she was nervous about white men. It wasn't so much that she feared me, but that people biased by racial bullshit wouldn't understand and make life difficult. I understood that, because the world we live in is still stuck in the 1800's in some important ways. But I didn't really care. I was 6 even, 210 lbs, muscular build (little love handles developing from too much beer in college, but still in good shape), blue eyes and blonde hair (though I had shaved my head at this point, more out of paranoia about thinning on top than anything). If a big, bald white guy and a sexy black girl together wasn't a statement of racial tolerance, then I didn't know what would be.
"I've been thinking a lot about it," Kasandra said as I tried to cook my Hamburger Helper, cradling the phone in the crook of my neck, "and I think it's time to take this a step further."
"I'd love to, but I have no way of getting to you. My car relies on gravity on the downgrade to get up over 50," I said, stirring in the sauce and noodles to the meat, "I have to pull a Fred Flintstone going uphill."
"I can come to you," she said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, why not?" she said, "I've got four days off next month, and I could always take a road trip south. I'll need a place to stay though."
"I have room here," I smiled to myself.
"You're going to sleep on the couch right?"
"No," I rolled my eyes, "You are. I love my bed."
"Ha Ha," she said flatly, "I was hoping we were going to fuck."
"You doubted that?"
The plans were set in motion, and when the time came, I faked being sick and took the four days off I needed. I got up that morning, showered and made sure that my pubic hair was trimmed down and shaved. I always shaved my area, ever since high school and left a thin love trail from the base of my cock to my navel. I ran my Mach 3 blade over my scalp, realizing I looked more and more like a cross between Telly Savalas, Mr. Clean and Arnold Vosloo in "The Mummy." But, Kasandra seemed to like the look and it only reinforced me keeping it shiny. Thinking about her being here made my cock swell a little as I put on my deodorant and got dressed.
She called me around 10 A.M., saying she was in Mount Shasta, towards the Northern California/ Oregon border and would be in town around 2 or 3 o'clock.
"It's raining here," she said miserably.
"It's sunny here."
"Well whoop-dee shit," she laughed, "You're not the one standing here at the payphone in wet clothes."
"Well then get off the phone and get going. Why be wet when you can be dry?"
"Well," she said, her voice confidential, "I was feeling kind of wet before I called you."
"I'll bet," I said, my mind wondering what her cunt tasted like, what it would feel like to run my tongue over her swollen lips and then slide it in. My cock was starting to strain against my boxers, and I said, 'Hurry up and get here."