The old diner where Tasha sat to lunch with her husband was definitely of the wonky sort. In fact Curtis wondered for the umpteenth time what the fuck they were doing there. There were more black people than white, a few of them looking positively like gangsters. And more than a few of them were checking out his wife.
That was natural really. Tasha was one beautiful blonde. Her smooth white skin, lovely blue eyes and straight blonde hair, were in stark contrast to the sea of dark skin jostling around them. As Curtis looked around, he realized with nervous disquiet, that they were the only white couple around. But Tasha did not bat an eyelid. She had her legs crossed, showing a hint of pale thigh, her v-cut blouse, almost encouraging stragglers to give her the one eye over.
"Tasha, it's getting late." said Curtis, glancing outside the window, at the creeping dusk. "Can we leave?"
Tasha nodded, her lovely head bobbing with agreement. "Sure hon," she said mouth, full of fries. "Let me just use the can."
She got up then stretching to her full five foot eleven frame, breasts caged against the blue top. She was already getting appreciative glances from the men, as their eyes followed her buttocks all the way to the bathroom.
God! Why did she have to wear those tight jeans to this joint? His eyes washed in a nervous rush to the bathroom.
The minutes ticked by and Curtis was now sweating with concern. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, and solicited the waitress for another coffee.
Tasha slid into the dingy bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She had just latched the door when she felt a sliver of movement behind her. Before she could turn, she was mashed against the flimsy door with irresistible force, her head pressed uncomfortably against the peeling paint.
"Make a noise and you don't walk out of here alive," hissed a voice in her ear.
"My husbands right outside," she lied, craning her neck to get a better view of her assailant. But strong long fingers held her neck fast. Her heart hammered in her chest, which was now squashed against the door.
Moments stretched, tense with silence. She could feel that the man's breathing had slowed. A shuffle of feet and she felt lips and teeth, gently nibbling on the back of her neck. A hand went around her waist, softly lifting up the cloth. She gasped as she felt cold yet strangely tender hands, on the bare softness of her belly.
Fingers trailed in her lush white skin, pausing to rim around her deep navel. The hands wound searchingly into the front of her jeans.
"Oh..." gasped Tasha, as she felt coolness spread down her groin as the unknown man's finger brushed against her pubic hair.
"Don't you struggle now," he warned as he reached out around her, struggling with the button on her jeans.
"Please," begged Tasha, as she felt the front of her pant being loosened. Mal-adroit as the man was he had succeeded. "Please just let me go."
Panting and silence and further panting followed. Tasha now felt her jeans slither down to her ankles.
There was a sharp intake of breath and she realized that her would be assailant was admiring her tight pink panties. She cursed herself for having worn those today. But it was already too late for regrets.
She felt his hands caressing and fondling her buttocks. As hands slipped into her rump, as they had done, the front of her body, she felt a positive shiver down her bare spine.
Why did this shiver feel so right?
A finger was inserted delicately into the crack between her full buttocks, palming her cheeks and she almost moaned out loud. She controlled herself however. It was never good to let him know that she was slowly being turned on.
As the man allowed her some freedom of movement, she saw the dim bathroom light reflected on his dark skin. Another licentious ripple of delight had passed through her half naked body. Tasha had always fantasized about being with a black man. She was getting her wish alright but not the way she had hoped. She had dreamed of a romantic affair with a strong dark man. Not a grope in a dingy bathroom no matter how sensual.
"Oh god baby," he moaned, as he gently began pulling her pink pantyhose down, almost reluctantly. "You are so hot."
It was Tasha's turn now to feel her panties join her jeans around her ankle. Fear coursed through her mingled with indescribable excitement, as she realized she was completely vulnerable below the waist.
She felt a slow ebbing of his tight grip on her body, and heard a ruffle as clothes were being discarded on the floor.
She turned to get a better look, but was again mashed against the door.
"Shhhhhhhhhh..." whispered the black man as she opened her mouth to say something.
He now again reached around her, gripped both her hands, held them up. "Keep it that way baby." He cajoled her. "Just do as I ask and everything will be fine."
Tasha felt her top being lifted clean of her body, and with a jerk, she had nothing on but her matching pink bra, tight against her ample breasts.
"Please don't," she repeated again feeling a bit like an idiot. Was the man aware that he turning her on so? He gave away nothing. He was playing with her like she was a Playboy mannequin fuck-toy.
She felt electricity crackle on her pure white skin as she felt the touch of his naked body against her smooth back. He was now fumbling with her bra strap, with one hand and holding her pinned with the other. He needn't have bothered. She was not going to try and escape. In fact she realized that bizarrely, she wanted this to happen as much as he did!
There was a snap and jerk as he managed to unhook her bra, and lift it smooth off her body. It tumbled down to join the rest of her clothes at the bottom.
Now that she was gloriously naked, she should have felt the most vulnerable, yet she felt gloriously released. As if by relieving her of every shred of cloth, he had somehow freed her from the cage of white that she felt imprisoned in.
That was when Tasha felt the firm, hard, black flesh press against her lower back. Apparently the black man had reached the stage of penile tumescence.
"Oh God!" she mouthed as she felt him stiffening further, exactly at the spot where her back met her buttocks.
"Don't worry baby," he hissed through his teeth, mistaking her exclamation of pleasure for one of horror. "This will all be over soon."
'Don't," she wanted to mouth, 'don't end it too soon, please don't.' But she couldn't bring herself to say much of anything.
His hands snaked under her arm pits, brushing the sides of her breasts and cupped them, ever so softly, ever so gently.
Tasha felt a sharp rush of air into her lungs as she felt her cleavage fondled and felt, with infinite care. Gods, she thought this must be the gentlest black rapist in history. His fingers touched and tweaked her already hard pink nipples.
"Oh fuck..." moaned the black man, as he hardened further against Tasha's lush, ripe white body. "Oh sweet fucking lord! What a hot white bitch!"
Tasha was about to say something almost encouraging, when she felt her self shoved hard against the door, with happy urgency. Her already stiff nipples were painfully crushed against the cold metal of the bathroom door.
She found her hands being lifted; her wrists pinned, palm first against the door, again in a wild rush.
"Move your legs apart baby...that's right, now lean your body forward," said the man, his voice now a throaty rasp.
As Tasha obliged, quite willingly, she felt a pause, in his other wise sure movements, as if befuddled by her lack of resistance.
So there she was leaning forward on the door, thighs spread apart, naked and a completely erect black man behind her. She wondered idly, if he would indulge in some foreplay. There was no need for such measures. Her pussy was even now being coated with lubricating fluids. But she wondered anyways as women are wont to wonder.
He came at her, hot, hard and heavy. His fingers prised apart her butt-cheeks, his stiff warm cock-head, nuzzling her anus. She felt him guide his hardness into her. Though she had thought her self sufficiently wet, she was in the wrong.
Either that or he had a really big cock. She realized it was a mixture of both. The cock-head lodged inside her vagina, and was stubbornly refused entry.
"Unghhhhh..." grunted the black man, as he tried to coax more cock into Tasha's white body.
Tasha tried to do her part. She spread her legs and buttocks as far wide as possible, and even went as far as parting her pussy lips, to allow easier entry to the black behemoth.
Her efforts went unnoticed though, as the man started slowly pounding his meat, against her tingling pussy.
