This is not the standard boiler plate interracial story of black dominance or cuckolded sissy's. It is a romance between a white widower and a black girl from the ghetto. Thank you for all of the great comments I've received on other stories, I trust this will be to your liking as well.
*****
As I stood in front of my dresser struggling to put in cufflinks, I felt her soft wet arms slide beneath mine hugging me, her warm wet breasts pressed into my back. I picked up one of her hands and kissed it. Barb had just stepped from the shower, almost dried off. Walking around in front of me she took the cufflinks and with her dainty fingers had them in instantly.
She reached her arms up around my neck and whispered, "You're sexy in that shirt and tie."
I responded, "If you hadn't had a knee replacement 4 months ago I'd tell you to get on your knees and prove it."
She fell against me as we laughed, asking if I'd like to watch her dress. With a smile I nodded.
With my back against the head board she teased me with no mercy as I watched her dress. I know damn well she could have dressed in half that time if she hadn't been so intent on keeping my dick hard.
When she reached for my hand to pull me off the bed she noticed my very erect cock pushing against my slacks.
"Oh honey" she cooed in my ear "I like the way you say thanks. Make sure you have more of that after we return from the dinner party.
It was more an award ceremony than a dinner party, with Barb and several other realtors being recognized for such high sales the previous year. After dinner was the customary malingering and schmoozing along with an enormous amount of bullshit. One younger rather inebriated fella thought he'd make a pass at Barb, with me standing next to her, my hand lightly resting on her ass.
"You have to be shittin me Don, I'm standing next to my husband and you hit on me." She said loud enough for everyone to hear. What she did next floored even me.
With her left hand she reached across me, grabbing my cock, and stated, "No thanks Idiot, I'm going home for some of this."
A few people laughed, a few had mouths hanging open, and we walked toward the door headed home.
What a wild piece of ass she was that night. I think we screwed in every position we could think of. After having cum in her pussy she sucked me back to life thirty minutes later and demanded I fuck her deep from behind. I was afraid it would hurt her knee, she told me to stop whining and fuck her like a man. Who was I to argue.
We slept in each other's arms all that night, something we hadn't done in years. It was as if something inside both of us knew we needed that intimacy. That was the last time we made love. Next day she had a root canal, the following morning she was cold to my touch. My bride of 31 years gone in a flash. The ME did an investigation and determined the dentist had done nothing wrong, for whatever reason Barbs system reacted negatively to the pain killers.
We were grade school and high school sweethearts, we married at 19, just out of high school, struggled together to get each of us through college, raised 3 kids having watched the last get married just a year ago. We had never cheated on the other, nor did we even think in that vein. We were all the other needed, physically, emotionally, and lovingly. As a 50 year old I sat on our bed sobbing, the girl I'd held hands with since 7th grade had been stolen from me.
Two of the kids lived near by and I saw them a lot, actually too much. After a few months life tapered off and everyone was back to their routine. Barb had been a realtor, a very successful realtor usually making more a year than I did, which is a sizeable amount. Barb and I owned three gas station/convenience stores. Two I had inherited from my dad, the third we purchased some years later. The two original were what was now considered to be in the "seedier" part of the city. It wasn't the ghetto with all the gangs, but it was within 10 blocks of that activity. The third was in the burbs.
I had a '57 Ford Fairlane convertible that Barb and I would ride in parades or take to car shows. The only thing not original was the top. The rest was left as is, if existing parts needed changing they were replaced with a like part, I didn't upgrade at all. Barb had been gone almost a year when on a warm summer Saturday afternoon, the two oldest grandkids and I took a ride in the old Ford, top was down, they were grins from ear to ear. Barb and I had been raised in the same area the two oldest stations were. It was just another neighborhood then. I decided to show the kids where we grew up, our childhood houses had been less than a block apart. As we ventured further along I showed them the gas stations, our grade and high school, places like that.
As we rounded the corner onto Walnut I thought my eyes were deceiving me. Vern's Grocery/Meat Mkt was still open. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I pulled up and stopped in front of the store, closed the top and locked the doors as we went inside. Vern was no longer alive his son Tim was now running it. Tim was a few years behind me in school, but he remembered me. I enquired how things were.
"Not so good Ted. An awful lot of theft, hard to find good help, don't know how long I can hang on."
After a little chit chat and a bottle of pop the kids and I headed home. I couldn't get that store out of my mind. He was only using a third of the space his folks had, he'd let his butcher go and the baking oven hadn't been operational in a decade. I know it's a dicey neighborhood, but where can you go that isn't at some point or another? Bad guys don't care where you live.
That store kept gnawing away at me, I grabbed the pickup and drove back there. Tim was working the cash register, I asked him where his checker was.
"I fired her today, said she needed off because her baby was sick. I've heard every lying bullshit excuse there is."
"Tim, I'm here to ask something of you. What number do you need to sell this place to me? Don't throw some asshole number at me, my wife was a realtor, I'll have the place checked out. So, give me a decent number."
"I've said from the beginning, anybody who'll buy it as is for one fifty and pay the latest grocery shipment, I'll gladly put the keys and deed in their hand. City wants the land, but only want to give me a hundred, I told them to pound sand."
"How much is the last grocery shipment?"
"$7000 and change."
"Tim, I like that number and I like the idea of owning this store. A lot of memories in this building. Consider it tentatively sold, I'll get back to you in two days if I can swing it."
"Okay, but living around here is a real shit hole. Just giving you fair warning."
"Do you live in the apartment above the store?"
Nope, hasn't been lived in since '74 when grandma died."
My mind was racing all the way home. The next day I was elbow deep in the financial books. I could easily sell the station in the burbs for over 400, Murphy Oil wanted that corner badly. Barb and I had just over 300,000 between savings and 401 K's. If push came to shove the other two stations would bring in at least 300 each and would sell quickly if I was so inclined. If I bought the store outright, paid for all the upgrades needed, I'd be debt free and still have enough money to run it until it started showing a profit.
Long story short. I bought the store, sold the station in the burbs and one of the others. Turned out that two different entities wanted the properties and I got more than my asking price on both. I kept the limited stock that had been in the store, so there was at least milk and bread in the area. The oven was repaired and operational again
The refrigeration company I had used for the convenience stores came in and went through all the cases that were running, then got those that hadn't been running back on line. Electricians replaced all of the old fluorescent overhead fixtures with 4' LED's and painters had the place bright and shiny within days. I hired a butcher and tasked him with getting the butcher shop back in operation. He could do what he needed to do, he just had to talk it over with me before spending over $500 per item.
I didn't bother to advertise, I hung a help wanted sign in the front window and had over 100 applications in three days. Wanting to hire leaders from the local area as much as possibIe, I focused on two black ladies with years of grocery store experience, a younger black man who had worked as a stocker previously, then I lucked out and found the lady who'd run the bakery before it shut down. My starting wage was going to be $11/hr with some benefits, I gave them $13 an hour with full benefits and let them hire who they thought were the most qualified in their respective areas.
To say we had an eclectic mix of races and ethnicities is an understatement. The neighborhood was excited to have a fully stocked grocery store again. I used Leon's (head stocker) knowledge of the area and culture to order what the locals bought, and to not order things the food suppliers pushed, but no one in these neighborhoods bought.
The greatest draw was the bakery. Fresh bread still warm would be ready every morning by 9 and people would line up waiting some days. The pastries were always ready by opening time and were a big hit as well. I had a standing order for the girls to save me two cake donuts with frosting to have with my coffee. We were open from 6:30 until nine every day except Sunday when we closed at 7. All three registers were busy most days.
The store had been functioning about 8 months, showing a profit and helping the neighborhood. One of the leaders I'd originally hired seemed to be showing an awful lot of interest in me. To begin with I blew it off, no good looking 30 something lady wants anything to do with my crumbly 52 year old white ass. Yet standing in my doorway at the end of the day shift was 36 year old Melinda.
Mocha complexion, long coal black straight hair, lovely almond eyes and a smile that could light a room. I figured 5'7", maybe 135-140 lbs, breasts that weren't oversized for her body, in fact I thought they were just perfect. Relatively flat tummy, who other than the ultra skinny and exercise nuts has a perfectly flat tummy? Slender waist, shapely hips, nice round ass but not a bubble butt, with long slender legs I imagined having wrapped around me as I pile drove into her hot pussy. As I looked at her I imagined what type of panties she might be wearing under her dress.
"I was wondering Mr. Ted. Why don't you have someone living in that apartment upstairs? My aunt used to do laundry for Vern's mom when she got too old to do it herself. Haven't been up there for years, but what I remember it was nice. Why don't we go look?"
"Won't your husband be expecting you?"
"No, I chucked his ass about 6 years ago when I caught him fuckin the babysitter. And we didn't have any kids. Figure that out."
Not being used to women cussing like that I was a little red faced. I grabbed the key and we trudged up to the apartment. 19 steps, no wonder nobody lived up there. The interior was aged, but it wasn't full of bird crap or rodents. You could see where there'd been a mouse nest in one of the stuffed chairs, but who knows how long ago that was.
"You should have this brought up to standard like you did the store and have somebody live here. Then there would be someone present at the store all the time."
Damn, she had a valid point. "I don't know anyone who remodels."
"My brother lives across the alley out back, that's his business. Want me to talk to him?"
"The place with the construction vans and equipment? Yes, please have him stop in, I thought he only did large projects."
