I know it's wrong to celebrate someone's death, but Michael was a complete and utter ass. I spent twenty-two years being the good little housewife while he played the letch. He fucked anything with a twat... except for me. Our only son was a true accident; he came home thinking it was one of his mistress' hovels. Serves the bastard right. Now that he's gone, Dave and I can finally live our lives with freedom. Dave lives in New Orleans and is perfectly happy there. I sold that monstrous place in L.A. and moved to Blacksburg, Virginia.
I was there a full three weeks before it finally sunk in. I could actually experience the rest of life now. Bar hopping. Flirting without having to be some model of society. I could actually live my live as I wanted to live it. My only problem was where to start. The bars in the city were mostly college hangouts. Definitely not the place for a fifty-seven year old recently widowed white woman to start living her live safely. After three months I was about ready to settle down and be a spinster. Then came Rakim.
I remember the day his family moved next door. Most of my neighborhood was white middle class and totally spooked by the prospect of a black couple moving onto the street. When it became clear that it was a MIXED couple... he black and she white... they were really up in arms. The second day they were there, they invited over everyone in the neighborhood.
I will always remember that day. I was in my living room watching an early morning sci-fi movie when the doorbell rang. I went to the door, asking who was there.
"Rakim Waller. We just moved in next door and I wanted to invite you over to a backyard grill party we're having tonight."
I opened the door and stood facing a very handsome black male. Handsome and definitely much more mature than his face let on. Even with the goatee it was clear that he could easily break hearts and necks. I knew the look well; he was a survivor and a loner. But he'd made it. There was too much tenderness in his rich, earth-brown eyes. Even the small gold hoop earring said he was more than he appeared. Simple. Dangerous. Sexy as hell.
OK. I was horny. I'd woken up craving a good cum. Several, actually. As usual, I wanted to finish my coffee before satisfying myself, but Rakim's intrusion caught me before I'd boiled the water. My plan formed instantly. Smiling, I invited him inside for a cup of coffee.
I watched as a shadow flowed over his face. Like liquid nothing, only more silent. His features melted into the darkness, becoming more defined as they faded away. Here was the soul of a survivor. What had he seen in his scant years on this world? I wondered if my son ever had that look. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms and let him know that everything would be just fine. The shadow faded, but not my lust or the lingering motherly instincts. I stepped aside to let him in.
* * * *
He sipped his coffee quietly. I could feel his mind wander over every detail. He was not used to common decency. Being of mixed heritage was probably very difficult for him. Even so he was polite without being sickening. We talked about the move, his new home, his old friends. Here is where he began to show even more signs of being world wise. His words were short and well chosen. I know of no less than twelve politicians who could take lessons from Rakim.
My eyes roamed over his movements, absorbing every twitch and subtle shift. At first he seemed to move like a teenager in the presence of an elder. Then, ever so slowly, it looked as if he were... comfortable. I looked into his eyes and saw the most playful look possible. Somehow he knew exactly what was about to happen to him... and was giving me clearance. How cute.
"So. You're interested in computers?"
"I build them. or used to before moving here."
"This is a college town. You'll have more than your fair share of clients. And I'd like to be your first."
He smiled that same playful smile. It fit him much better than the dark, brooding look he wore earlier. I motioned for him to follow me. He rose. And I have to describe his movements. On the surface it was nothing spectacular. HE just stood up. I've spent my entire life observing people. High society people move how they think. Heavy thoughts... slow movements. Up to no good... carefully orchestrated movements. Rakim stood. Just stoop. Open. Honest. Real. Even as he waited the three breaths for me to show him to my computer he never made any movement that was not open and honest. He moved with the fluid grace of someone that knew what they were doing and did not care who else was aware.
We went upstairs to my bedroom. Stepping aside, I let him in... the first non-family male to have that distinction. He stopped at the doorway, let his eyes... and only his eyes... move about my room, then walked over to my computer. We began discussing what the damn thing had been doing. I was pleased that he spoke to me like a person and not another idiot who'd bought a computer from a television add and didn't know the first thing about the technology. He even managed to get me to laugh at my own mistakes without realizing it. Rakim was a perfect gentleman. It was also very apparent that he was more mature than most his age. More mature and infinitely more... well...
I stood behind him, my breasts pressed against the nape of his neck. Rakim seemed to not even noticed... until I noticed a slight increase in the pressure being applied to my flesh. He knew they were there. He knew I was trying to seduce him. And he was going to make me work for it. Not a problem. Actually made the game more interesting.
I would point to something on the monitor, leaning over him. I breathed on his neck and finally got a reaction. Rakim growled, a deep, resonating, primal sound that made me want him even more. Age called him boy or child. That sound... he was a man. Strong. Caring. Somehow I knew he would be a good father and loving husband. Here was the creature Michael played at being. And he was black! Bedding Rakim would be a slap in the face to that racist fuck.
Smiling, I sat in his lap. The instant I was down I felt it. His hardon pulsed between his surprisingly sturdy legs. He even turned around so that I could get comfortable. And I did... after grinding my ass into his lap. I felt rather than heard the rumble of pleasure as it slid into my body. One hand slid around my waist as Rakim continued to coach me on my computer. His voice was just over a whisper... and his breath slid over the nape of my neck. I wanted to skip the seduction right then and there, but I also wanted this to be a royal fuck session. I wanted cock. his cock. In me. Hard. Powerful.
"Before I show you about the internet, mind if I stop by my house and let dad know where I am and catch grub? I promise to be right back." His eyes completed his words. He wanted to see how far this was going to go, but he was NOT about to risk the wrath of his parents.
"I'll leave the front door open, Rakim. And please... call me Helen. I've been Mrs. Whitecloud for too long." He chuckled softly as I rose. He eventually left, but I took every opportunity to touch his virile young body. I watched as he walked the short distance to his home, hungrily waiting for his return.
* * * *
* * * *
I was in the kitchen, still in my bathrobe, when I heard him enter. First came that clear, deep, powerful yet youthful voice. I told him where I was, then listened for the lock to engage. It did. I smiled.
"Sorry for the delay..."
"Not a problem, Rakim. What did you eat?"
"Turkey and Swiss on wheat. My usual," he chuckled. So innocent sounding. Where was that shadow stalker I saw before?
"Oh. My father thought I should bring this. It's an external drive for storage."
"Storage? Of what?"
"Backup..." I saw his eyes twinkle. A dark twinkle, but no malice lay in it or the act. It was... odd.
"Backup?"
