She lay there on the towel, the sun shinning warmly on her pale white skin and the sound of the gardeners lawnmower droning like a diligent bee. It was a beautiful afternoon, and her aunt had gone to attend her church group. From behind her sunglasses she noticed Sammy the gardener pushing the old noisy contraption with care, he had been mowing for some time now, but the grass looked done in her opinion.
She stretched out, arching her back and putting her hands behind her head, and set her legs apart to rest on their feet, toes digging into the cool grass. School had been a nightmare, and she had been glad when the week finally ended, but tomorrow it would all begin again. Since her fathers incarceration (coming some months after her mothers death) she had been living in the suburbs at her aunts house, where she would have to stay for at least a couple of years, till she was both old enough and could afford to move out, get a job.
She sighed.
Her eyes dropped from the clouds again and she noticed Sammy's head turn away, as if he had been looking at her. She felt uncomfortable for a moment, her tight fitting grey hot-pants and black tee-shirt tied in a knot above her belly-button was "shocking" according to her aunt. Being a country girl (raised by her less then politically correct family) she had rarely seen a black man close up before- and still wasn't sure whether she felt personally threatened by their proximity, some part of her mind kept expecting them to jump her or turn violent. Allot of that probably had to do with her fathers politics though, the kind of man who liked to fill sentences with words like "purity" and "race" and "Aryan" in them.
When she had realised her aunt had a black man for a gardener she had been a little afraid and defensive. Sammy was nice though, although he didn't look too bright (he was no Denzil Washington anyway, she thought) his squat rounded frame and puffy coffee coloured skin lent itself more to affection then intimidation. The hard oily-skinned masculinity of the dangerous, cunning, powerful black men her father had insisted would rape her at the drop of a hat was not the kind that Sammy was, she found herself hiding her tattoo from him. Generally unsure about her wife-killing father’s worldview since puberty, she had decided to let go of his racist beliefs.
In fact Sammy reminded her of a cuddly-toy she once owned. It had been a big dark brown bear, and thinking about it bought a brief hot rush to her face and a moistening between her legs. She remembered what she used to do to that bear, in the earlier years of puberty, those first tentative explorations of her own sexuality.
She began to wonder what Sammy would be like in place of that bear before she could stop herself. It felt delicious to imagine Sammys big soft face against her thy, those big rubbery lips against her-
"Scuze Ma'am"
It was Sammy; he was looking down at her, standing in his overalls, hands in his pockets. She suddenly felt vulnerable, alone in the house with him, the erotic thought of him before disappeared.
"What is it?" she snapped
"I's not good for white wu-man like you to lie in sun like this" said Sammy, his thick New Guinea ascent legible to her exactly two seconds after he said anything.
"Yes you're right, I'm not burning yet though,” she said.
"Madam, your skin is very white, it is very pretty, I don't want you to burn... and become red, ahn-ti will be very cross if that happens, allow me to bring you sun-cream at least"
'Ahn-ti' was Sammy's way of saying 'aunty', and she smirked for a moment, flattered by his concern for her "pretty white skin".
"Sure Sammy" she said gently, regretting snapping at him earlier "Go get me sun-cream".
He smiled broadly, showing rows of white teeth before turning to enter the house. Sammy was entrusted by her aunt as an odd-job man and cleaner, had done so ever since she'd returned from running a business in New Guinea, where she had first hired him as a ‘houseboy’ runs.
He returned moments later with a bottle, kneeling beside her he began to pour out its contents into one hand. She closed her mouth-, which had dropped open in growing shock
"Sammy, what are you doing- you think I'm going to let you use it on me?"
"Bot of course" replied Sammy matter-of-factly, as he slapped a palmful of the lotion on her thy, and began rubbing vigorously. For a moment he carried on- she wondered what he'd do if she tried to make him stop. For some reason she felt frozen, as his big black hands pressed the cream into her skin. He had slowed down allot once he realised she was not pushing him away, and was rubbing it in slowly now. She was certain he was savouring the touch of her white skin, his face had a childish wondrous expression on it-
"Madam's skin is very beautiful" he licked his lips "I like white wu-man's skin very much you see madam-" his hand moved slowly to her groin
She got up, swept up her towel and stormed into the house. Everything her father said about niggermen was true! She had seen the hunger in his eyes; he wanted her- he'd savoured touching her
"Madam, please- your ahn-ti lets me do it all the time-"
She ran up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.
Oh my god what if he tries to rape me, she thought suddenly. His feet were pounding up the stairs after her- and then the sounds of thumps against her door
"Madam please, I did not mean to upset you I am only the houseboy, you are the madam, do not fear me... madam?" she locked the door and sat down.
"Madam, please, I want to worship your beautiful body, please madam..."
She lay face up on her bed, the wetness where he had rubbed in the sun-lotion felt cool and wet- reminding her of his touch, the look of wonder on his big black face came back to her, how he'd licked those big rubbery pink rimmed lips.
The banging continued, as did Sammy's pleas. She touched the patch of oily skin with her fingers, raising them gently against her thy to her crotch, moving aside the shorts, and then her nickers. As he continued to knock and bang at the door, she slowly pushed her fingers into her pussy, she closed her eyes and gently stroked herself- turned on by his yearning for her she inhaled, picturing the big black bear held from her behind the door.
Sammy gave up. The little bitch wasn't going to play. She had driven him wild all afternoon since Jane had left this morning (promising him he could have the little bitch as his plaything). Her slender young body was barely covered by her clothes. He didn't want to just rape her- he wanted to seduce her. But she deserved to be raped- considering who her father was. It would be justice to bend the little bitch over and break her in every way he could with his cock, and every one of his collection of dildo's. But he couldn't. He loved white women- had done ever since he'd met the charity worker that had come to his village when he was a boy, who had allowed him run his fingers through her long blond hair, eventually letting him suck one of her nipples. It had been a surreal moment and the fuel of his puberty’s wet dreams for years after. Then he'd gotten lucky, met Jane and become her houseboy cum sex slave (her butt-monkey, she liked to call him). Jane had made him and the men of his village worship her like a white queen back in New Guinea, and he had happily worshipped, and then she had bought him- her favourite, back here to the UK.
She had told him the daughter of her hated white-supremacist brother would be staying with them- and that he could have her, as his very own white slave. How he'd cum when she'd told him that (he had been sucking her hip at the time) Jane never let him inside her. Once he had tried to raise his face above her belly, bringing his cock to her vagina "but you're a negro" she had said, smacking him hard with her switch, when he'd pleaded for her to let him fuck her she had replied "you can lick my toes, suck my pussy, lick the crack of my lilly white ass and shower my tits with kisses, but you can only ever use those dildo's on me Sammy, I can't have a nigger-dick actually in my pussy" she had smirked. He'd been heart broken- and the times she let him kiss the beautiful white skin of her shoulder halfway during a days housework became more like torture. She must have taken pity on him.
When her father killed the girls mother in a murderous domestic rage the girl had moved in. she'd been sullen and uncommunicative of course but from the moment he had seen her slender young body and milky coloured skin his cock had hardened mercilessly, and he had saoured the day he'd finally be allowed to have her (he'd even wached her sleeping, watched her thin pastel pink lips, her fine features, big grey eyes and long dark hair (the colour of varnished pine) and freckled face was everything he loved about caucasian females, deliciously european and provocatively anglo, for a man like himself- with his obsessions and appetites, she drove him mad with yearning.
Eventually the girl did open the door, waiting at the stairs he was ready. He burst in and grabbed her- pushing her on through to her bedroom and pushing her on the bed.
She hadn't made a sound, and sat there now- hands splayed behind her, her thies, waist and arms almost luminescent and spread. He was already undoing his overalls front row of buttons
"I'm going to fuck you little white girl... oh yesss... fuck your pretty little pussy, fuck you up your ass... ohh" she continued to say nothin, she looked slack, and watchful at the same time. He noticed a patch of moisture betwen her legs, and as his cock stiffened and broadened in his hand, feeling cool as it thrust into the air.
"What are you going to say?" he asked, wanting her to see his big black dick (certainly it was too large for her) and know its rock hard lenth would soon be deep inside her, and that there was nothing she could do about it
She looked at his penis blankly, one half of her face obscured by her dark hair, one grey/green eye regarded him (their eyes always mesmerized him)
