The strength of his second kiss silenced her. And his hands as they moved together through the dark. Kissing, peeling, parting, turning, unbuttoning, unwrapping...
Kay was wearing matching black lace bra and panties at Sally's suggestion so they wouldn't show through her dress, without knowing her friend had really steered her in that direction because she hoped they would fire a young black man's lust later that night. Which they did...
The bra unclasped in Byron's strong fingers and was lifted away lovingly, worshipfully. Dark hands cupped her pale, full breasts from behind, savoring their weight and feel, then squeezed them inward. Byron had never felt so driven, and hearing her groan in response, feeling her lean back into him, her last inhibitions melting and her desire taking hold, was like a dream made real.
As she moaned in wonder, Kay struggled with the confusing tide washing through her body. How long had it been? Had she ever felt this wanted? She felt astonished as well as guilty as she felt realized she was getting wet for this impossible man. How, why was this happening to her? How, why had it been so long? Why was he doing this, making her feel this? Why was he kneeling to kiss her belly? Why was he going lower still and...ohhhh...
Byron thought each moment better than the last, each step a discovery. Seeing her secrets unveiled step by step was the most intense feeling. Seeing her beauty enhanced by the lingerie, freeing the breasts of a 1000 dreams. Kissing his way down to her panties - black, appropriately - kissing her through them, breathing in the rich scent of her arousal. Aroused for him. Ready for him.
The reverie and the ecstasy even dulled her shock as Byron slipped out of his boxers to reveal the enormous length and girth of his dark manhood. She shook her head slowly in fear as it rose like a spear, pointing toward her; he nodded and smiled reassuringly. "It's all right Kay - you are made for this."
She was quite sure that was not true and would have said so if he had not distracted her by bending and firmly and smoothly peeling her panties downward. She meekly stepped out of them like she was under his spell.
Byron's eyes widened at the sight he had dreamed of since puberty - and it was just as he'd dreamed. No slutty, shaved girl, Kay's modestly swimsuit-trimmed reddish brown pubic hair framed her peach sweetly...and somehow made it seem even more of a sacred place, a place he had to make his own. Earnestly, yet reverently, he guided his shaft through the curls, as its hood slid back to reveal a dark mushroom that slid wetly along the outer folds of her vagina, painting a line of precum, Kay could only sob, "Ohh, god...Byron...please..."
"I know, Kay...I know," he answered. And he did. He'd never felt so right, so at home, so confident, so needing. The one thing he most wanted but the world would never let him have, was open to him.
So he entered her, where they stood.
Just the head at first. From what Sally had said he expected she would be tight, and she was, gasping at the pressure just of his mushroom head splitting her folds...but he held her tightly as the first delicious moment of sweet friction passed between them. Finally she whimpered with pleasure, and he smiled, and looked down to savor the awesome sight of his dark purple inside of her pale pink and seeing her doing the same. He kissed her, tenderly at first, then harder...and she kissed him back...astonished, earnest, tongue kisses.
So he flexed, and slid inside her...oh creamy, sweet heaven! And she cried out - a warm, animal sound, as he lifted her by the hips. And her arms and legs wrapped around him as he lifted her with a defensive back's strength, and felt a rapture beyond any dream as he thrusted up and into her warm, slim softness.
Deeper...so tight...gasping...crying, holding, kissing...
Deeper, crying, pausing, holding, whispering, reaching, pulling, hips, thighs, gasps, black, white,
Deeeper, moans rising, fingernails raking, flexing, lifting, arching...
Byron cried over Kay's screaming orgasm as the lust built up over three weeks - actually years, since the woman in his arms was the embodiment of a dream - climaxed in a long, sweet jet. The 43-year-old married mother and 19-year-old college student were suddenly no longer representatives of different generations, cultures and races. They were just a man and a woman, together in every meaning of the word.
Kay sailed through the heart of the storm, her life, her heart and soul being rewritten moment by moment as she came helplessly again and again while Byron's thick, firm shaft pistoned into her...and that was before his titanic eruption flashed through her like a bolt of lightning. She surrendered utterly as he lifted her into the air, pumping into her with rhythmic spurts. Her cries faded into whimpers against his chest as he slowed, then with a deep sigh, held her a long, sweet moment or hour - time had stood still for them both. Finally, lifting her limp body like a sleeping child, he carried her to the little twin bed.
---
Kay awoke in a warm pool, or floating in space...no a cloud...no, in bed! Suddenly it all came back with a wash of shock and guilt. She struggled to sit up, and immediately felt - strangely heavy. Kay looked down in astonishment at her vagina, still flaring open from the stretching it had received, her pubic hair matted down with semen, and a pearl in the center hinting at the deep well of cum she felt inside her. But it was so creamy and thick it barely moved as she did, just shone there like a jewel.
She looked up to see Byron step out of the little bathroom and walk toward her. Kay caught her breath...was it the shock that she had just had sex with this boy? Or was it how the light glinted on his dark, muscular body, his chiseled features, his impossibly long and thick penis? Or was it the way he looked at her, and the fact that a thrill of anticipation washed through her at that look? What was wrong with her?
Byron's feelings of wonder were just as strong. Somehow seeing her there in bed, the dim light playing on her beautiful breasts, and the momentary glimpse of her sacred married pussy glistening with his cum before she covered herself shyly with the sheet, was almost as exciting as the act had been. No...nothing could have matched the feeling of her small yet awesomely curvy body in his arms, gasping and crying out in time with his thrusts, feeling and hearing and smelling the pleasure he was giving her.
"My god..." she whispered, and he realized his cock had bloomed again. "Yeah baby, we've just getting started," he answered huskily as he pulled back the sheet.
"Byron, wait," she pleaded. "This...this was wrong, we can't... God, you are younger than my daughter!"
"Yeah, and I'm black, and from the 'hood," he answered, only half teasing. "But I'm also a part of you now, Kay...I've waited all my life for you, and now you're here."
"Nn, noo!" she wailed as he climbed into the little bed with her, as much in protest at the desire she felt as to his words. "Please..." she began, tears welling in her eyes.
Byron brushed tears from her cheek tenderly. "Too late for that, baby. You're part of me and I'm part of you - you know you needed this." He gripped her by the shoulders and looked deep into her wide, dark eyes. "God, you are soo beautiful!" he whispered, awe in his voice.
"No, noo," Kay whimpered, as his hands slid over her breasts, and then glided down to her hips. "We mustn't..."
"Yeah, we must!" he whispered, pulling her close. "This is for us! Mmm, baby you feel so good!"
Kay wasn't sure whether her answering moan was of regret, fear and frustration over losing control again or the undeniable lust his touch created, but she felt herself opening her legs to him anyway.
He smiled warmly, like he was the older teacher and she the naive young student...which was true, in this new world they had made. "You were born for this!" he murmured, loving the feel of her silky softness surrounding him. "Tell me to stop, Kay," he taunted as he mounted her and positioned his cock at her opening. "Tell me you don't want to feel this again."
"I, I...I need you," she whispered, clearly confused, even frightened at the admission. "I...want you!"
"I know!" he whispered back. "And I want this!" And the black prince thrusted his hard length back into his white queen. And her eyes rolled back in her head.
She was still tight, but less so and the powerful thrusts required to stretch her around his length and thickness during their first time were not as needed now. Soon Kay even regain a measure of control, no longer passively receiving his thrusts but helping to direct them, clamping down on his hardness and slowing his pace; they paused, making time for smiles, deep kisses, sweet intertwining of hands, her kisses and exploration of his muscular chest and tattooed arms, his kissing and suckling of her breasts.
Their first, frantic coupling was replaced by something slower and deeper - rhythmic, missionary lovemaking. When Byron finally came, the warm wave that flowed into Kay was less of a torrent than his first load, but meant even more, and solidified the growing bonds between them.
Byron lay atop his prize for a long minutes, instinctively wanting her to take every drop of his seed. He was thrilled that Kay had not asked him to wear a condom - or at least was too overwhelmed to think of asking. He knew she was in her 40s but couldn't resist the taboo thought that he might have just given this classy, respectable white wife a black baby.
No..she would give him a baby in that case. He was sure such a caring and generous heart as Kay's would never terminate a life, no matter how it was created.
