"Good God, can that man move!" I said in awe.
"Yeah, especially for a white boy," the girl next to me said with a laugh. "You know that it's always the black boys who dance better."
I snorted inelegantly. "Those black niggers only think they can. The difference is that we pay attention to them. Gives them a big head." So saying, I tossed down my shot of tequila and slammed the glass back on the bar, missing Stephanie's incredulous glare in my direction. "You know, Steph, some of those black bastards made a pass at me last week."
Stephanie looked at me with an eyebrow cocked high. I know what she was thinking. I loved attention from anyone, and it wasn't at all difficult to get it. I'm on the shorter side, but always wear sexy, stylish heels to make up for it. My curly, dark red hair is as fiery as my passionate temper, and my green eyes always betray my emotions. But it's my body that "brings all the boys to the yard". A voluptuous, pear shaped woman, I make no attempt to hide my large frame behind baggy clothing. Instead, I happily flaunt it with curve-hugging clothes, short skirts and even lower-cut shirts. My dynamite personality always draws people in. But as far as Stephanie was concerned, I have a major flaw... my intolerance for the black population.
Looking at Stephanie's expression, I knew I had to be clearer. "I was just getting out of my psychology class. When I walked into the hallway, one of them let out a wolf call, and a bunch of his 'boys' started laughing and clapping. SUCH immaturity," I rolled my eyes. "I don't know who they thought they were. Completely uncalled for. I swear, Stephanie, I was born in the wrong era. I shoulda been born before segregation ended."
Steph laughed. "Brier, you need to relax. There's no difference between a white boy and a black boy except for the color of his skin."
"Perhaps," I replied congenially, winking at the bartender as he slid me another drink. "But I know most of them still think we owe them something. It's as if they want retribution. You know I'm from the south. I freely admit that my family were, and are, plantation owners. And as I've no interest in apologizing for the way my ancestor's treated THEIR ancestors, I'm keeping myself as far away from them as possible!"
"Considering your disgust of them, that's probably a good plan," Stephanie said with a smile, "But how you're going to do that at this college is a mystery to me, especially when there's an entire fraternity of them plus more." Lifting her glass to her lips, she took a sip of her drink, smiling at a guy across the room. In moments, he began to move in her direction.
"Well," she continued, "As much as I was looking forward to listening to you continue your rant, I do believe I have a dance partner headed my way. So I'll catch ya later on at home, nkay?"
"Sure, Steph," I laughed, "Go have fun with your man. I'll be fine. See you in the morning!" I waved her off, watching as she gave the guy what looked to be a knee-weakening kiss. The way his hand wandered from the small of her back to the top of her rounded ass made me glad that she didn't share my dorm with me.
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"Does she suspect anything?" Brian asked Stephanie when pressed her lips close to his.
"Not a thing," she responded with a coy smile. "Promise she won't get hurt?"
"I can't promise that," Brian said, then with a sadistic wink added, "But I promise she'll like it."
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After I finished another drink, I paid the bartender –plus gave him a generous tip- and made my way to the dance floor. As usual, I didn't lack for partners. The way I swing my hips to the beat and make my body sway.... Needless to say that, noticeable even in the worst circumstances because of the way I throw my weight around, when I'm at my best, I can make a lot of jaws drop.
Raising my arms in the air, I let myself loose, feeling the music in my veins and responding to it without thought. I let my body sway and writhe provocatively, uncaring of if I had a partner or not. My eyes closed, I could still discern the spotlights, both colored and white, illuminating the gyrating crowd below them, and I could still imagine the various people surrounding me. I moved with little finesse, letting my feet and body move me where they would. Opening my eyes again, I noticed a few black men had danced their way closer. I edged back towards the open side door next to the dance floor. The breeze cooled the heat emanating from my skin, and I was able to move further from those egotistical assholes parading around as 'men'.
The song changed, and so did my movements. I stepped high, swayed low, my hips gyrating quickly, almost like a belly dancer or a gypsy, as I hit each beat with a pop of my hip. I threw my head back and laughed in pure enjoyment, spinning in a circle just for the joy of it. I quickly circled again. Wait a minute... those niggers were following me across the floor! But no, it couldn't be. There just had to be a larger population than normal here.
As the tune intensified during the chorus, I took the opportunity to press through the moving crowd, towards the wall, but still near the door in case I needed a quick escape. The move was to be my downfall.
"Hey there, sexy," a nigger stepped in front of me, "I'm Aiden."
"I don't care who you are," I snapped, "Get out of my way."
"No... no, I don't think I will. You look like you love dancing as much as me, and I would like to partner you this evening."
"I don't think so," I snarled, narrowing my eyes. "I don't dance with bootlips." To my surprise, Aiden laughed.
"You will tonight, honey," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Ohhhh, yes you will," he reiterated to my shaking head.
"Fuck you, porch monkey" I said, spinning on my heel to leave. I stopped short. In front of me were three more niggers. "Excuse me," I ground out between my teeth, bracing myself to push through them.
"Oh, are you on your way outside?" one asked. "Here, let us escort you."
"I don't need your help," I growled.
"She won't be saying that later, will she, Craig?" another said.
"Sure as hell won't, Joe," Craig responded.
"Why? I'm not gonna even be with you later," I spat out, pissed off at being 'helped' out of the bar.
"Wanna bet?" The first yahoo chuckled deep in his throat as we walked through the open doorway. An idling car waited in a nearby parking spot, and the niggers steered me to it.
"Let me go!" I screamed at them, starting to panic. "I just wanted to dance!"
"And you will," Joe grinned at me, opening the rear door, "Just not precisely in the way you intended. See, me and the boys here," he gestured to his kinfolk, "heard how you're talking about us. And we're going to show you we aren't all cut out of the same cloth."
"Thanks, but no," I attempted to swallow my fear, and retorted snidely, trying to yank my arm out of their grip. "I'll just go back inside now."
"Listen, you fucking cunt," the first nigger spoke again. "We tried being nice. Don't make us force your stupid ass into this fucking car."
I wrestled with Joe and Craig, who each held an arm. "I'm going back inside," I cried out, twisting in their grasp. Both appeared to be stronger than me, though, because neither lost their grip. Aiden quickly tired of my struggles, and he bent to reach into the car, coming back out with a cloth. Impatiently, he pressed the rag against my nose and mouth. I tried to hold my breath, really I did, but after struggling with the two, I was slightly out of breath, and before I could stop myself, I took a deep breath. Immediately I felt woozy, and I looked to either side for help, but the two assholes just stood there with smug smiles on their faces. '
I'm gonna get you for this