I still remember the first time I saw Deja hanging off of my son, Eric's arm at my brother's wedding. My son had warned me that he was actually bringing someone special but I hadn't been expecting this. I had never really considered myself racist. I had no problem with interracial relationships and black people were perfectly fine by me. I had a black best friend back in grade school. This was different.
My mouth dropped open in shock as Deja made her way through the hall in her tight, black dress as she hung onto my son's hooked arm. He looked proud of her and quite happy but there was a feeling of shock and surprise that gripped me. I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting the special girl in my son's life to be anything other than white. I felt ashamed of myself, knowing that the things I was thinking were wrong and that I should be more happy for my son.
"Hey, mom! This is Deja," my son said proudly. I shook her hand and her eyes met mine. She greeted me with a genuine smile and I saw that she was a nice person. I tried to get past the fact that she was black but I kept thinking about it. My son with a black girl? What if they got married and had mixed babies? I felt like I might faint.
"Is it okay if Deja comes to the house with me? I can get a hotel but it would save me some money if we could stay with you, Mom." Eric looked up at me hopefully. Deja must have been in the bathroom or something.
"Sure, honey. Of course," I told him, not wanting him to know how I really felt. I could pretend for the weekend until they went back to California, where he was now working as an accountant.
My house wasn't big but I wanted to see as much of my son as possible while he was in town. I missed him terribly and if Deja was part of the package then I would deal with it nicely. I blew up the air mattress and placed it right in the living room between the couch and my computer desk. I knew it wasn't much, but it was all I had to offer.
Deja was gracious and kind to me, offering to help me cook dinner and doing the dishes for me when we were through eating. She made pleasant conversation and I could tell that she was from a dysfunctional family by the way she talked about them. We really hit it off and I was shocked to find her as interesting and intriguing as my son did.
"Wow, I wish I grew up with a mom like you," Deja said excitedly. "Eric! Your mom is amazing!" I beamed with pride and I knew that Deja had me where she wanted me. She was charming, intriguing and fun. She was polite and kind. There didn't seem to be a bad quality in her and I realized now why my son was so into her.
"Aww, you're just trying to butter me up." Our eyes met and I could see something in them that I hadn't seen before. She had a flirtatious look in her eyes and Eric wasn't in the room. I almost looked over my shoulder to see who she was looking at when I realized it was Deja. My son's girlfriend was flirting with me.
I wondered what Eric had told her about me. She went on, telling a story about her youth as I took in her sleek, black body. She was still wearing the tight dress from the wedding and the way her body curved was different than other girls I had been with. Eric must have told her that I was into women. There was no way she was flirting with me unless he had told her.
The question was why was she flirting with me? I was her boyfriend's mother. Maybe she wasn't the perfect woman she was portraying herself to be. I noticed her subtle shift away from flirting with me when Eric returned to the room.
"You taking care of Deja?" he asked me.
"Of course I am. What kind of hostess would I be if I didn't?"
"That's a good question," Deja laughed but I saw the subtle way she looked my body up and down as Eric added the folded blankets I'd placed on the couch to the air mattress so they could go to bed.
"I think I'm going to head to bed. Do you need anything before I go?"
"How about hugs and kisses goodnight?" Deja giggled.
"Of course," I laughed with her and I gave Eric a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then I moved to Deja and when she hugged me I could feel the way her tits were pressing against mine. Her hands wrapped around my waist and one of them slid to an uncomfortable resting point at the top of my ass. She was touching my butt crack and I pulled away, uncomfortable.
"Goodnight, Mom," Deja was laying it on thick.
"Goodnight, Mom," my son added with a smile. "I'm glad you and Deja get along so well. I almost didn't bring her because I wasn't sure how the family would take it."
"Take what?"
"That Deja is black."
"Oh, that's no big deal."
