I am a 60+ year old bi woman. All my stories contain fictionalized characters from long ago memories and recent events of my life. You would be safe to assume that some on my stories are fiction and that in all of my stories the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
If you like kinky mature Black women I hope you will enjoy my stories and comment on what you liked and perhaps didn't like to help me improve. I sometimes include passages from previous stories I have published here on Literotica.
In this story I am Anne or Annie to my friends.
I met Catherine, an obviously wealthy White woman, at a fundraiser luncheon in Charleston South Carolina. Obviously, yes obviously, wealthy. I lust for expensive clothing, jewelry and scents I might never afford and she had it all. White? Yes she was White. I only mention it because I am Black and our races play an important sexual, but not racist, role in this story. I was invited to the luncheon, I believe, because I had just sold my business and had some recent press notoriety and a few dollars from the sale and oh yes, I am Black. I think there was a quota.
Catherine mistook me for an old friend, Jessica and approached me from behind.
"Jessie? Behind you, it's Cathy."
I turned and extended my hand, "Well Hey Cathy, I'm Anne." (I know, I know, it's Annie but in some situations, if I am the slightest bit insecure, I switch to the more formal Anne. Cathy
Her whole being that seemed alive with hope when I first turned to face her dimmed with my introduction.
"Oh, I am so sorry, I was hoping..... I though you were my friend Jessica."
My hand stayed extended and empty as I looked at this obviously disappointed woman. I put my hand down and tried to rescue the moment but before I could say a word Cathy said, "Ah, Anne, I'm so rude, I'm Cathrine. It's nice to meet you." Cathy became Catherine in the blink of an eye. She put her hands on my arms, kissed my cheek and continued, "I was just so sure you were my friend Jessica... but I have not seen her in years.... and I was hoping ....but you are not her ....you look exactly as I remember her.... but it's been a long time."
I had a feeling this older woman, Catherine was uncharacteristically babbling. I stopped her when I took one of her hands in mine leaned in and said, "Catherine, why don't we sit and talk, get to know each other?" Nothing deep, nothing fancy, just an honest gesture toward perhaps a new friend. We moved to a nearby unoccupied cocktail table. After some, where do you live, (no where near), who do we both know, (no one), where did you go to school, (not even close) , conversation she asked me to tea at her nearby home after the luncheon.
While we sat next to each other through the meal, and a boring endless list of speakers, I had a chance to get to know a very nice woman I would probably otherwise never have met. The luncheon ended and Catherine again suggested tea at her home "only a few miles away." I asked if I could follow her after I get my car from valet parking. Walking together we approached the hotel door man and valet parking station just as the door man was putting down a two way radio.
He looked directly at Catherine. "Good afternoon Mrs. Driscoll! I have asked that your car be brought around. Richard should be here momentarily." A big smile from the door man, no doubt anticipating a tip. Catherine then did something that surprised me but I think was second nature to her. She took my valet claim check and in full view of the door man put it on top of a folded bill and handed them to the door man. I did not see how much money she gave him but it's a safe bet it was not five dollars.
Speaking to the door man, Catherine said, "Winston, my friend Jessica and I will be traveling in my car. Would you be so kind as to have one of your men deliver her car to my home? Please put any charges on my husbands account. Richard will of course return your driver to the hotel."
"My pleasure ma'am!"
With only a few words, my car would arrive at my destination without me in it and I was Jessica again.
A large silver car arrived, not a limousine really but rather one of those cars with "Town Car" in chrome letters on the roof near the rear door and lots of comfy cranberry colored leather inside. The hotel door man held the rear door open and Catherine and I got in. Catherine did not wear a seat belt and looked at me questioningly when I searched for one.
The car just started to just slightly move away from the curb and Catherine spoke to the driver, "Richard, please take us home."
"Yes ma'am."
Catherine continued, "Richard, hold on a moment. Jessica is having trouble with her seat belt.would you help please?" The car stopped and Richard stepped out and opened the passenger door nearest me. A beautiful very Black man, perhaps a Jamaican, leaned in. His face was inches from mine when he said with a smile that revealed the most brilliantly white teeth, "Hello, Miss Jessica, Let me get this for you." He reached over me and being very careful not to touch me he pulled the seat belt clip out from where is had fallen between the seat.
I noticed that he wore a Special Forces style barre in the same cranberry color as the leather in the car. I was thinking I would rather be sitting on that face under the cranberry barre that the cranberry colored seats. I can have such slutty thought just pop into my head sometimes.
I was going to tell him that My name is Anne but thought better of it with Catherine observing every movement, every word. I was also very busy trying to connect his scent to where I had smelled it before. Whoever that was did not bring out this 'weak in the knees' feeling that this man did. I can have such sex filled thoughts sometimes. Ok ok I have them often but this man smelled and looked wonderful.
When he pulled the shoulder strap down to clip it his hand just momentarily touched my right breast. I must have reacted because he said in a very soft quiet voice, "Oh, please excuse my clumsiness. There was an accent in his words I could not place. Oh well maybe later.
I said, "Thank you Richard" as he started to close the passenger.
He replied, "Entirely my pleasure Ma'am." The way he stressed entirely made me wonder if he was not really clumsy after all. I am a slut.
Richard resumed driving and Catherine spoke to him again, initially at least I think, to make it clear to him that she and not I, had asked for his help, "Richard, thank you for helping Anne."
He replied, "Nothing Ma'am."
There was also something strange in the way she changed my name again and how he seemed to not notice. She continued, "Later today a hotel driver will bring my friend Anne's car to 'Four Oaks' and leave it with you. Please see that the driver gets back to the hotel and Anne's car is serviced and ready when she needs it. You may leave the keys on the entry hall table when it is ready."
"Yes ma'am."
I was learning. Richard is her driver. She hears yes ma'am an awful lot. The house has a name. I am Anne again.
We drove for only 20 minutes to a beautiful estate on a river South of Charleston. Long driveway leading to a beautiful pale yellow elevated two story home, overlooking a marsh with open water in the close distance. Richard opened our door and politely helped us out. As we walked to the front door he drove the car away.
We approached the house we climbed the stairs to the first level living area. I was impressed. This home was built to be in movies. The front door was opened from the inside by a thirty-something White woman dressed in a casual navy blue business suit. She spoke to Catherine, "Welcome home Miss Catherine, Mr. Driscoll asked me to tell you he is delayed at the office but will be home for dinner."
Catherine answered, "Thank you, Joan. I won't be needing you again today. You can just head on home, if you like, or wait for Haywood to arrive." She added, "Oh, Joan, just one more thing, before you leave, would you please tell Alice that I would like tea for myself and my guest served on my balcony." She added, "Oh, and please tell Richard I will not be needing him again today."
"Yes ma'am."
That was it, no introduction. I was standing right there, invisible. It took me a moment or two to understand what was happening. Joan, Richard and Alice, the tea lady, are employees. I was clearly out of my element. I'm not sure this would even happen today. Do some wealthy people still employ staff? Joan had addressed Catherine as "Miss Catherine" but Catherine's husband, Haywood Driscoll as "Mr. Driscoll."
We were standing in what seemed to be their main living area, a formal living room to the right and a formal dining room on the left and a beautiful view of the marsh and river in the distance straight ahead.
Catherine led me upstairs to "her rooms." I would later learn that "her rooms" on the left side of that upper level were mirrored on the right side by "his rooms." Two master bedroom suites? Who really lives like that? Catherine and I entered a large living area, a den or study. I could see her bedroom through double doors on one wall. On the other wall again through double doors was a balcony that overlooked the marsh and river beyond. Another door, I would learn later led to a media room. She turned to me and said "Anne, it's a beautiful day. Why don't you join me on the balcony? Tea will arrive shortly." It was easy and relaxed being with her. She very casually removed her jacket revealing a beautifully tailored cream colored silk blouse. Catherine seemed taller and evenwithout the jacket. She easily and casually took my hand and I was led to the balcony, a rather large deck overlooking a boardwalk on the marsh that led to a dock with a small boat tied to it.