The Grind Date

October 16, 2004

New York City

Peter Lawrence was only slightly nervous as he sat down at Connolly's Restaurant. Grace O'Donovan was running a few minutes late, but she'd be here. Hopefully.

Peter ran to the men's room and looked at himself in the mirror. His chocolate skin was smooth, his hair cropped short, his face clean-shaven. He dressed as formally as possible: light blue jacket, white shirt, striped blue tie, black pants, shiny black shoes. He didn't want this lady to think he was anything but a gentleman.

He ordered a Coke and checked his watch. Suddenly, he saw her walk through the door. She was luminous; tall, long reddish-blonde hair tied in a ponytail, blue eyes, lightly freckled pale skin. She wore a white lace blouse, black miniskirt and shoes just as shiny and black as his.

"Hello," she said in her sweet accent, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, one he had not anticipated. A kiss on the first date? This had never happened to him before.

"Do sit down," she gently commanded, and Peter obeyed.

He couldn't believe he was this lucky. He had just ventured into online dating, and couldn't believe that such a beauty was looking for someone.

"Well, it's so great to see you, finally," he said.

"You too!"

The waiter returned, and Grace ordered a Diet Coke. Peter found himself aroused by the sight of Grace sucking the dark soda through a straw; he quickly imagined her sucking something else.

After placing their orders-Grace had a chicken sandwich and Peter had a cheeseburger-they continued to talk. Peter was enraptured by the freckles on Grace's animated hands; he wanted to kiss each freckle as she lay next to him naked after a night of making love.

Grace had moved to America only two years earlier, from Kalgoorlie in Western Australia. She wanted to be a costume designer, and was already making progress towards that goal.

Peter told Grace that he'd love to have her design costumes for one of his movies. He was studying to be a screenwriter, and hoped to direct at some point in the future, telling Grace about his dream of becoming the first African-American to win a Best Director Oscar.

Grace's eyes lit up.

"So, who are your favorite actors?"

"Well..."

"Go on, you can tell me..."

"You're going to think I'm pandering."

"No, I won't. Tell me."

"Nicole Kidman and Cate Blanchett."

Grace laughed. "Sure."

"I'm serious! Look, it was six years ago I went to be 'Practical Magic'-I only went to see it 'cause I had a huge crush on Sandra Bullock. But Nicole was so hot in that-I've seen all of her stuff ever since. And then a friend of mine invited me to see 'Elizabeth,' and I fell in love with Cate, too."

"I see," Grace replied, pouring ketchup onto her French fries. "Well, would you think it was pandering if I told you my favorites were Will Smith and Denzel Washington?"

"You're for real?"

"Yes. In fact"-she paused to dabble some ketchup away from her lips-"it was six years ago I saw them back-to-back-Denzel in 'The Siege' and Will in 'Enemy of the State.' Oh my God-they're all men, *real* men."

"I see," smiled Peter.

Grace winked, as if to silently tell Peter that Will and Denzel shaped her attraction to black men. Peter winked back, to communicate that Nicole and Cate made him interested in Aussie women.

"I wish I had-actually, I might still have it in my apartment. There was a photo of Will meeting Nicole at the Academy Awards the night Denzel won. I thought they both looked real cute together."

"Oh, I've seen that photo myself! I know," she replied, as Peter chewed the last of his burger. "I wish they'd do a movie together."

"Me too."

"Imagine the love scenes they'd have-"

"Oh yeah-"

"It would be *so* passionate."

"I agree."

They ordered dessert: Grace had a brownie with vanilla ice cream, Peter had apple pie with cinnamon topping. Peter loved watching Grace eat, loved her full figure and natural curves, loved the fact that she wasn't a stick-thin model wannabe. Grace had the ideal body for a black man, and she clearly knew it.

"Oh, look, it's starting to rain! Shit, I forgot my umbrella..."

"Don't worry, I brought mine. It looked a bit overcast before I left."

"Good idea," she replied, giving him another wink.

The rain began to intensify as Grace and Peter left Connolly's, and the wind snapped Peter's umbrella in two.

"Oh, you're going to get soaked!" Grace told Peter. "Look, my apartment's closer-why don't you stop in until it dies down?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's just me-my roommate's in Florida on business."

"OK."

-

Now Peter was extremely nervous-and Grace could tell.

"What's wrong?" she whispered as Peter stood in front of her.

"Uh...nothing."

Grace touched his arms. "You just seem so...I don't know. Your whole mood changed."

Peter was stunned by how pink and teenage-girly Grace's bedroom was. He expected something different, something more mature, maybe. This was weird.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"This is the way my bedroom looked when I was growing up-it keeps me from getting homesick!"

"I see."

She touched his arms again. "You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Suddenly, she kissed him. He felt dizzy, horny, scared. Did she want him on their first date? This had never happened to him before.

"Did you like that?"

"Yeah-oh yeah."

Grace began to unbutton her white lace blouse, stopping only to kiss him again. Peter's mind raced in wild directions-did she want a relationship? Did she just want a brother to get her off? Would she just give him a blowjob? Did she want it in her pussy? What if she became pregnant?

Peter embraced Grace and kissed her. He marveled at how her bra was as white as her skin. Grace quietly unhooked her bra and smiled as her pink nipples were exposed. A shock of sexual strength burned through him: his mouth began to water.

"I want you!" he said in a whisper-scream.

"I can tell," she smiled, gesturing at his pants. His cock was pressing against his zipper.

"Oh, yeah."

"Is that all you're gonna say tonight? 'Oh, yeah'?"

"Uh...uh...g'day, mate."

Grace shook with laughter.

"I'll throw in a 'Crikey,' too."

She laughed again as she unzipped her skirt to expose her alabaster thighs. The sight of the freckles on her thighs drove Peter wild; he fucking had to have her.

He hurriedly began to remove his clothes and within minutes stood nearly nude in front of her; it was only his muscular body, his smooth dark skin, a pair of black boxers and black socks.

Grace gestured for him to come closer. She put his hands on the top of her pink panties while she put her hand on the top of his boxers.

"One...two...three..." she whispered as they mutually removed their underwear, delighting at what was revealed.

Grace took Peter's hand and led him to the bed, where they began to make love. She marveled at the size and thickness of his instrument, far larger than that of her former boyfriends in Kalgoorlie. He was fascinated by the thorough paleness of her body, how artistically beautiful his dark hands looked on her pearl-white frame, the loveliness of her freckles, the lusciousness of her unshaven bush. She loved the feel of his tongue on her pussy; he loved the sight of her fleshy body shaking as she came.

As he felt himself ready to come, he pulled out and sprayed his juices over her ample chest. Gasping for breath, he asked her if she needed a towel.

"No, no...just rub it in. Rub it into me."

"Huh?"

"Yeah...I want to feel a black man's seed all over me."

"Wow."

"Oh, yeah."

Grace and Peter laughed as he rubbed his cum into her skin. He leaned over and they kissed. As they looked into each other's eyes, they imagined what it would be like to have this night turned into a movie, with Will Smith and Nicole Kidman starring.