The Sexual Adventures of Ben Washington Part 4

The Sexy Soccer Player

One of the great things about being in college is getting to be around different people. Going away to college is a great experience. It forces you to grow up, learn to be independent and you get to meet people who you would have probably never met, if you stayed in your home town. I got to meet so many different people from other parts of the world at college. Africans, Arabs, Europeans, Latin Americans and Asians. And each person came with their own unique culture and language. The African brothers were quite interesting. I hadn’t met many growing up, but had read a little about their cultures. However, it was different meeting them in person. I got to be friends with a Ghanaian brother called Samuel and he invited me to several African parties, which turned out to be quite raucous affairs. There was lots of booze and the music was a mixture of R&B, hip hop and African music, which I had never heard before. It was interesting to see how African artists had adopted hip hop and R&B influences. It made me realize how powerful music was. Samuel said Black American music was very popular around the world. It had greatly influenced Africans. When black people were singing “Say It loud, I'm black and I’m proud,” so were Africans. They even wore bell bottoms and afros, like they did in the ‘70s. Unfortunately, as gangsta rap music became more powerful and Black Americans started talking about niggas and bitches, so did Africans. Apparently, during the Sierra Leone Civil War, a rebel group had named itself the West Side Niggaz, after their favorite rap stars. They later changed that to the West Side Boyz.

Still, the parties were fun. I got to try some African food, I had never even heard of. Some of it looked nasty, but when you tried it, it was actually quite good. I developed a taste for a Nigerian dish called pounded yam, which was served by a jovial Nigerian brother called Mikey. It looked like mashed potatoes, but was considerably heavier. The first time I ate it, it made me woozy, which Mikey got a kick out of. Mikey was an interesting fella. He was of medium height, jet black and muscled. He was also smart as a whip and majored in philosophy and political science, with an eye to going to law school. Me, Mikey and Samuel became a group, holding late-night bull sessions, while we were either high or drunk, or both. And whenever I had a tough class, I turned to Mikey, who always had the answer. Mikey was always moving a mile a minute, the brother read like four newspapers a day, two books at a time, and slept about four hours. He was always cooking up some business deal or the other. Some of his deals blew up in his face, and some were barely legal. He wrote term papers for other college students, and even did homework for some people. His behavior was quite common among Nigerians. I learned Nigeria was a nation of hustlers, and the people had become quite accustomed to bending and breaking the rules. Mikey told me everything he did was legal, although some of the things he did were only legal because they hadn’t written laws to cover them yet. He was quick to point out he was not like other Nigerians, who were into hard-core crime like identity fraud and drugs. Mikey told me a lot of Nigerians did that shit, and when the cops came after them, they bailed out Nigeria, where they were largely untouchable by American laws.

I hung out with Mikey and Samuel a lot and learned there was a friendly rivalry between Ghana and Nigeria. Mikey used to tease Samuel about being dark (which was funny, because Mikey was dark, by American standards.) And Samuel would tease Mikey about being a con man, like all Nigerians. Mikey and Samuel also got me into soccer, which was huge in Africa and other parts of the world. I dabbled with the game when I was growing up in the DC area. But I was never really good at it, since I was skinny and unathletic back then. Soccer wasn’t really promoted in the black community. Black folks tended to stick to football, basketball and baseball. Mikey pointed out that around the world, soccer was seen as the sport of poor people, but in America it had become the sport of middle-class, white kids. He said this was quite political and more than a little messed up.

“I think there could be a lot of great Black American soccer players, but the game is not promoted,” he said. “Also, white people want to keep soccer white, because they don’t want black people to come in and dominate it the way they have done other sports. It’s too bad, because there are a lot of scholarships available for soccer players. Plus, brothers can make good money, if they’re willing to go to Europe.”

He showed me some European soccer mags and pointed out the salaries. He converted them from English pounds to dollars and they were pretty good. Players could become millionaires from kicking a ball. Of course, this was before Major League Soccer took off. I actually got into soccer and started watching it. It was a great game, full of flowing play and athleticism. Soccer players could also make the ball do amazing things, like swerve past walls of players. I could see why it was called “the beautiful game” around the world.

Mikey was a pretty good amateur soccer player and invited me to come and watch him play. He was quick, aggressive and made a great striker, who scored lots of goals. He was also a great dribbler and could kick with both feet, a prized skill in soccer. Mikey later bragged that some colleges had tried to recruit him as a kicker. Mikey even dragged me to some college soccer games. My college had created a women’s soccer team a few years ago and they were pretty good and regularly won conference titles.

“Come and check it out bro,” said Mikey, flashing a toothy smile. “Even if you don’t like the game, some of these soccer chicks are hot.”

So one night Mikey and I decided to check out a local game featuring the Lady Tigers, as the team was called. They were pretty good and easily steamrolled a team from Texas Tech, beating them 4-0. Mikey was right, some of the chicks were hot. However, there weren’t any sisters, which was not surprising. Playing soccer meant they were great athletes, because they had to be able to get up and down the field. Also, soccer is a surprisingly physical game. The players often ran head on into each other in violent collisions. Most of the chicks had thick thighs and when they pulled off their jerseys, I saw a lot of them had six packs. One stood out though.  She wore the number 9 shirt and was the center forward. She was 5 foot 10 inches, pale and had flowing blondehair pulled back in a scrunchy.  She was quick and aggressive, like good forwards are. She ran the opposing defense ragged and bagged three goals. “She plays like me,” joked Mikey. I was star struck. As Mario Puzo said in his book, “The Godfather,” I was struck by the thunderbolt. She looked like a soccer playing Viking! I had to figure out a way to meet her. After the game, I wandered onto the field and made it through some young fans to the star striker. I learned from the program her name was Kelly Christiansen. I pulled out my program and quickly asked for an autograph.

“You played like a female Ronaldo,” I said, remembering a Brazilian star I had seen over at Mikey’s house.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing “I’m no way as a good as him.”

We chatted for a while and I said my friend Mikey was a big fan. I pointed to Mikey, who was trying to mack on the goalie, who was a 6ft 2inch Amazon. He liked women who towered over him.

Eventually, Kelly said she had to go to a post-game meeting with the team and left. But I promised myself I had to try to meet her again. A few days later, I called Larry, the newspaper editor, and talked him into letting me do a feature story about Kelly. I did some research and learned she was the conference’s top scorer. I called Sports Information, set up an interview and we met at the soccer team’s gym. She was dressed in a track suit and had her hair pulled into a bun. I noticed she had freckles around her aquiline nose and piercing blue eyes. Her face looked scrubbed clean, as if she had just gotten out of the shower. She was quite striking.

I spent an hour talking to her about her background and how she got into soccer. It turns out her dad was an immigrant from Sweden and a semi-pro over there. He had put a ball at her feet as soon as she could walk, and she had taken to the game. She was a star player as a teenager and been heavily recruited to the college, where her career really took off. She spent a lot of time watching European soccer, when she wasn’t playing or studying, and was thinking of going overseas, after she graduated, to play professionally. (This was before the women’s professional league took off in the States.) I was impressed, she seemed like a well-rounded person, who was more than a jock.

I gathered enough material to turn in a puff-ball feature story. Larry ran the story and I got an email from Kelly, saying she had pinned the story up on her wall and was really pleased with it. Her teammates gave her some shit about it for while, but she didn’t care. She also sent it to her parents, who put in in her scrapbook.

I didn’t want to let things go, so we began emailing back and forth. She emailed me, when she was heading out to away games and I always wished her luck. I also started turning up for all the home games, mainly to see Kelly’s thick thighs and big calves hammering the ball into the net over and over again. I began to wonder what she looked like under her gear. After several weeks of chatting, I asked Kelly out to grab some pizza and after we ate, we wound up back at my place, where we shared a bottle of wine.

“I thought your coach didn’t like you drinking?” I asked.

“Yeah, but players always break the rules, when they get the chance. Plus, as long as I keep scoring, coach isn’t going to get on my case,” she replied. “Actually, a lot of drinking goes on at parties thrown by the football team. A lot of girls on the team have dated football players.”

My ears pricked up at that. “So how did that work out?”

She shrugged. “So so. They have great bodies, but some of them are a dumb as rocks. Plus, most of them want you to worship the ground they walk on, ‘cos they are big men on campus. And they’re not usually faithful. They always have groupies, waiting in the wings.”

We had gotten halfway through the bottle, and her tongue was getting looser.

“So, have you ever dated a football player?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, with a sour face. “He was a jerk, he had a big dick though. But he didn’t know how to use it. “

“Didn’t your parents freak?” I asked.

“No, not really. My dad’s from Sweden, which is very open minded. And my mom lived over there for a while, so some of that rubbed off on her.”

I could see she was getting slightly tipsy.

“So, are you a size queen?”

“No, I like a man who knows what to do with his dick,” Kelly said, with a slight slur. “Do you have a big dick?”

“It’s big enough.”

“Let me see.”

I obliged, unzipped my fly and let out my dick, which was rock hard. I had been carrying a boner for Kelly for weeks and I was straining for action.

“That’s nice,” said Kelly, and gripped my dick in her pale, slender hand. She leaned closed to me and mashed her lips with mine. She smelled of wine and pizza, but I didn’t care. That was an aphrodisiac, as far as I was concerned. We started kissing and pawing at each other’s clothes. I unzipped her track suit and she began unbuttoning my shirt. I got her jacket off and helped her roll off her Nike sports bra, which wasn’t as complicated as regular bras. She had small, breasts that were tipped with rose-collored niples. She undid her hair and let her hair drop to her shoulders. I quickly kicked off my clothes and helped her out of her tracksuit pants and sports briefs, revealing her pale, naked body. I climbed on top of her and sucked on her lips. I spread her legs and eased my dick into her cunt. She gasped as she felt my girth. I pushed into her and began to gently stroke at her pussy. I thrust in deep all the way to the hilt, eased out halfway, then did it again. I kept up at that pace, teasing her to the edge. It was working. I noticed her breathing getting heavier, then turn into loud pants. Soon she was moaning and thrashing away, and when she reached her peak, she yelled and locked her limbs around my ass. I climaxed shortly after her, with a loud groan as we looked deep into each other’s eyes. After, we lay on the couch, panting for breath.

Finally, she pulled away from me and looked into my eyes.

“Wow, that was …”

“Passionate…” I said.

“Yes,” she said, surprised. “I’ve never done that before. Most of the guys I fuck with cum in like five minutes and don’t give a damn about the woman. Where did you learn that?”

“I had some good teachers,” I said, modestly.

Kelly took another swig straight from the bottle.

“Rest is over buddy. I’m ready to go again.”

She reached down, stroked my dick and got it hard again. We fucked hard for two hours that night. She came about four times. The things you can do when you’re young! I learned that it wasn’t only male athletes who had high sex drives. Kelly may have looked like the perfect all-American girl, but she was wild in the sack. She was into mild BDSM and asked me to pull her long, flaxen hair, as I fucked her doggie style. She also had me whisper dirty words in her ear as I fucked her. Kelly had me spank her ass until it turned red. She said spankings made her soaking wet.

And so it began, we saw each other as regularly as we could for busy college students. She always came over after practice. Apparently working out got her real horny, and she always wanted to get off. We would get in the shower together, I would soap her body and we would passionately kiss. Then I would get on one knee, spread her pussy lips and eat her out slowly. She would scream like a scalded cat and thrash around so much, I’m surprised we didn’t tear the shower curtain down.

When she was away on the road, we would keep up by text. I would promise to eat her out, if she scored a goal, and she always would. I had to live up to my end of the bargain and go down on her, which she loved. Her coach should have given me a bonus, because I’m sure my pussy-eating skills helped win the conference title that season!

When we weren’t fucking or eating pizza, we would lay in bed watching European soccer and talk. Kelly told me there were quite a few lesbians on the team, which wasn’t surprising. She had tried being with a woman, one night at a drunken party, but realized it wasn’t for her.

“I like dick too much,” she confessed. “I like the taste of cum, the feel of a throbbing cock inside me and being dominated by a man. I have to be so tough on the field, it’s nice to give that up for a while.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I laughed.

I flipped the channel and we stumbled on a porn movie on HBO. It was a scene featuring a white woman with two black men. Kelly watched it with fascination.

“You interested in that?” I asked.

She blushed. “Yeah, is that bad?”

“Hey, it’s cool. Whatever happens between consenting adults,” I said. “I can make that happen if you want.”

“How?” she asked, fascinated.

“I have a friend in mind, but if I do it for you, you have to do something for me in return.”

“What?”

“Set up a threesome for me, with another girl,” I said.

She thought about it for a while, and agreed. And so I set the ball in motion. I talked to Mikey, who was into wild sexual shit. He had banged the goalie, fought with her when she got all religious and was onto his next conquest. I knew he was into Kelly because he was constantly giving me shit about how I had beaten him to get her.  So one night, while Kelly was at my place, we invited Mikey over. We had a great time drinking wine, and watching the European Champions League final. When the game was over, we were all pretty drunk.

“You still want to do this?” I said to Kelly, and she nodded in agreement,

She stumbled to her feet and pulled her T-shirt over her head. She pulled off her bra, dropped her shorts and dropped her panties. I was hard, and I could see a bulge in Mikey’s pants. She grabbed us by the hands and led us to the bed. Kelly got on her knees, took out my cock and began to suck it. Mikey got behind Kelly and slipped his cock into her pussy. From the sloppy noises he was making fucking her, I could tell she was nice and wet. She sucked my prick and deep throated me, as I tugged gently on her hair and whispered, “Yeah suck my dick good, slut.” (She liked that kind of thing.) Meanwhile Mikey slammed away at her ass. It was an erotic picture, a pale white female body being penetrated by too dark, black bodies. Finally, Mikey groaned loudly, pulled out and came on her ass. I pulled out and came all over Kelly’s face. That set her off and she shot a huge geyser of cum out of her pussy. She lay on the bed covered in fluids, looking deliciously naughty. I got up to get us some drinks and we sat around sipping wine.

Kelly’s face was flushed, and she peered shyly over her drink at me.

“I can’t believe I actually did that,” she said. “That was so dirty, but so sexy.”

“Yeah, you were hot girl,” said Mikey, panting for breath. After he finished his drink, he thanked both of us, pulled on his clothes and left.

I reminded Kelly that since I had fulfilled her fantasy, she had to come through for me. She promised she would, and had some women in mind. After the Lady Tigers won the conference title, they had a team party. Kelly later came over to my house with one of her teammates, Shae, a petite, raven-haired girl, who played as a midfielder. The girls had been drinking and I offered them some more beer at my house.

Kelly said Shae was bisexual.

“Actually, I don’t like to be put in a box, I’m experimenting now. I kinda prefer girls though, but sometimes I like guys,” she said shyly.

“Well, maybe we can all make each other happy,” I said.

Kelly nodded enthusiastically. She was perched on my couch, next to Shae and they began staring into each other’s eyes. Then their lips locked and they began tugging off their clothes. It was erotic watching those two beautiful bodies exploring each other. Kelly motioned for me to get involved.

“Come here, babe,” she said, in between kisses.

I stripped off and got behind her. I kissed her neck, as she explored Shae’s mouth. Kelly reached behind and grabbed my dick. Then she took Shae’s hand and placed it on my cock.

“See how nice he feels, Shae?” she said.

Shae nodded shyly. I and fucked Kelly doggie style. As I fucked her, she bent over and ate Shae’s pussy. We each licked and fucked each other for what felt like an eternity, until Shae’s eyes rolled back into her head and she came with a quiet moan. I grabbed Kelly’s hair and slammed her hard until I felt her pussy contract and squeeze an orgasm out of me. Afterwards Kelly and Shae lay cuddled together and Kelly whispered, “I want you to experience his dick.”

She grabbed my dick, sucked it until it was nice and hard and then eased it into Shae’s dripping pussy. Then she sat on Shae’s face, so she ate Kelly’s pussy as I fucked her. That was the hottest part of the night! There was so much groaning, squealing and fluids spilled, I was pretty sure both girls had multiple orgasms. My sheets were ruined that night.

Kelly and I got into bed together tired from the night’s events. Shae said she enjoyed having dick again, but preferred having emotional relationships with women. We actually all hung out a few times together. Sometimes Kelly and Shae would go off and do girly stuff together, while I hung out with the boys and at the end of the day we would all end up in either bed or the shower. It was a great arrangement, very loose and non possessive, but everyone seemed happy.

Eventually things tapered off. Shae graduated and moved to another state. Kelly and I both graduated and she got a deal playing professionally in Europe. I’ve kept up with her career online. She got quite famous and even played for a professional women’s team in America, where she became the face of the franchise, used in all their merchandise. The public loved her all-American good looks. I never asked if she kept up with her wild sex life, but I’ll always remember her steamy college days. I’m sure she does too.

Latest update from "Ava: Confessions of a Country Club Cougar."

Ava and Francois are on vacation in Europe.

We were enjoying our drinks, when a couple of young girls came up to me and asked if I was American. Apparently, they could tell by my clothes. The teenagers were learning English and wanted to try out their new skills on a real-life Yank. We ended up talking about “Friends,” which they loved and Hollywood movies. I guess somethings are universal. It was kind of unusual watching teenagers drinking with adults, but the French kids seemed to be able to handle their alcohol. They sipped at their wine and we chatted for hours as the time flew by. The conversation slipped between English and French, especially when the girls got heated about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

Suddenly, I looked up and noticed the bar staff were starting to stack the chairs on the tables. That was a sign we needed to leave. So we bid the girls, Yvette and Anna, goodbye. Like all young people, they said they would look up us on Facebook and we went home. Francois and I had consumed a couple of bottles of wine and I was beginning to feel the effects. We enjoyed the warm Parisian night as we staggered back to the apartment. I stood on the balcony, listened to the hum of traffic and watched the twinkling lights of the city. The Eiffel Tower stood out like a lighthouse in a sea of lights. I breathed in the air and sighed as I felt Francois come up behind me and kiss my neck. He whispered something in French and I felt my panties get wet. That language always did it for me. His strong hands cupped my breasts and I felt his hardness pressing against my back. I felt him lift up my skirt and reach for my dripping pussy.

“Ah,” he said, surprised to find I was bare under my skirt. “No panties. How naughty of you. If I had known, I would have tried to finger you in the bar.”

I laughed and sighed as I felt his finger slide deep into my pussy. I leaned forward on the balcony and pushed my hips out.

“Let’s do it here,” I whispered.  Francois was already excited and didn’t need to be asked twice. I heard the rasp of his zipper and felt his pants drop. He lifted my skirt over my hips until my ass was bare. He gave my butt a gentle slap.

“Naughty American,” he said with his sexy French accent. “You want this African dick right here?”

“Come on Francois,” I whispered. “Don’t make me beg for it. I haven’t had any since we left America.”

He laughed, parted my ass cheeks and slipped his thick dick into me. I gasped as I felt him penetrate me. We had fucked many times before, but nothing was a sweet as the moment when I felt that first thrust.  Francois gripped my hair, just as I liked, as he slammed against me. The only sound that could be heard in the night was the slapping of his hips against my butt. I looked out across the sea of lights as I felt myself steadily getting to the peak. The balcony made a few ominous creaks, and in the back of my mind, I remembered a story about an amorous teen couple, who plunged to their deaths while fucking on a balcony. I suddenly had a fleeting thought about dying with my skirt up and bare ass out and was mortified of my kids seeing the images. But my body had a mind of its own. Francois was slamming me hard and I suddenly felt my pussy tighten up and milk his dick. We both groaned quietly as we came together. We embraced and kissed on the balcony and then collapsed onto the bed.

We slept pretty late as we were still tired from the flight and a night of drinking. But when I woke up, I was horny again. You would think after the previous night’s romantic fuck I would have been satisfied, but the more good sex we women get, the more we want. I woke first with a slight hangover from the previous night’s drinking and went into the bathroom. When I came back, Francois was still asleep. His dark skin stood out against the crisp, white sheets. I pulled back the covers and revealed his beautiful, ebony body. His dick was still flaccid. I decided to do something about that, and I bent over and took him into my mouth. He was soon hard with a raging erection. I learned that morning wood is no joke, men’s first erections are often the strongest. Francois mumbled something in French in protest, but I kept sucking his dick. When he was nice and stiff, I slipped his cock out of my mouth and rode him. He was half asleep, but I only needed his body to cooperate and not his mind. He woke halfway through my ride and made a sarcastic crack about me taking advantage of him. I covered his mouth.

“Just lay there and be quiet, fella” I said sternly. “I’m in the middle of something.”

He lay there and I enjoyed his huge erection as it thrust into me. His dick was rubbing against my clit and it felt delicious. Francois was now fully awake and I could feel him pushing into me. I suddenly felt him spurting cum into my pussy, and I rode him faster. I grabbed his muscled chest as an orgasm wracked my pussy. My head went back and I howled as I came. Afterwards, we were both spent and we went back to sleep. After all we were on vacation.

The Sexual Adventures of Ben Washington Part 3

High School Hook Up

I had been in college for about four years, and was doing a lot of writing for the college paper. People noticed I had some talent and I got offered some freelance work writing editorials for the local newspaper. It added some much needed extra cash to my pockets and working at the newspaper came with a lot of perks. I got free tickets to a lot of concerts and even football games. One Friday night, I was dead bored and burned out from a week of school, so I decided to take in a high school football game. Now, there is nothing more American than watching a high school football game on a balmy Friday night while eating junk food. The game was pretty well attended, although I noticed the crowd fell into two categories, parents and high school kids. Since, I was in college, I fit into neither group, but I did see Larry, the editor of the paper, who was sitting with his wife and kids. I sat by him and we chatted about work. He said, he liked some of my columns and wanted me to keep writing for the paper. The game continued on and the home team was leading at halftime. During the interval, I went to the concession stand to grab a soda. I noticed a statuesque blonde wearing a blue cheerleader’s outfit, standing in front of me. I also noticed she had smooth, tanned legs. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a silk bow. I’ll admit, I have a weakness for blondes and I know some of the militant sisters on campus would hate me for it. Standing there in her uniform, she looked like every American boys’ wet dream come to life. When I was in high school, the cheerleaders wouldn’t have spat on me if I had been on fire. Now I was in college, and had some notches on my bedpost, maybe I could change that attitude I introduced myself to the blonde, asked her what her name was and she said Tammy. “I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said, as she ordered an ice cream. “Are you a parent?” I laughed. “No,” I said. “I’m in college. I’m just here because I got free tickets. I also do freelance writing for the paper."

“Oh, my dad works for the paper,” she said. I noticed her ears prick up at the mention of college. She licked her ice cream seductively and looked up at me. I got the impression, she knew she was turning me on. “That’s cool,” she said in a breathy voice. “So, what’s college like?” “A lot of hard work and a lot of parties,” I replied. I regaled her with some of my party stories and tales of all-night benders. She told me, she had done a lot of partying, but nothing like me. It was a lot of juvenile stuff, which usually ended up with someone puking their guts out at the end of the night. The half-time interval was ending and Tammy said she had to rejoin the cheerleading squad. I exchanged numbers with her and she left. I joined my boss back in the bleachers and finished watching the game, which the home team won. After the game finished, the crowd dispersed and I noticed Tammy came over to Larry. She hugged him and he introduced us. “This is my daughter, Tammy,” he said. “It's nice to meet you,” Tammy said, flashing me a secretive smile. I left and mused over what I learned. So Tammy, the hot high school cheerleader, was my boss’ daughter. I would have to handle this carefully and decided to call Uncle Brian and bounce the idea off him. “I say go for it,” said Uncle Brian. “It’s only a part-time job, and you’re not going to stay there forever. Also, most of these high school chicks are hot for college guys. They’re just glad to get with a dude who has some money, a ride and his own pad. Most of those high school guys don’t know what the hell they are doing in the sack. You can school this cheerleader, but just make sure she’s 18.” I took his advice and texted Tammy a few days later. After a few minutes, I got a text from her. Tammy said: What’s up?

I wrote: Not much, you remember me from the game?

Yeah, I do, you were the writer.

Are you 18?

Yeah. I am.

Cool, you looked cute in your uniform.

Thanks, I liked your dreads. I decided to call her on the phone and we chatted for a while and she told me what life in high school was like. The life of the in crowd seemed to be mindlessly boring, but I tolerated her prattling. Finally, I asked, if she had dated a black guy. She hesitated and said. “Yeah, kind of …” “What does that mean?” I asked. “Well, I hooked up with this black guy at  a party once,” she said. “It’s no big deal among people my age, but my dad would never approve of it. I can’t wait to move away from this one-horse town and go to a college, where I can date whoever I want.” “So you’re not a virgin?” I asked. She made an exasperated noise. “Hell no, I lost that when I was 15,” she said.“I like sex, but honestly, I think most guys my age don’t know what they are doing. It’s over so quickly, I wonder, is this it?” “Sex is great,” I said. “But, you have to find the right partner who knows what he’s doing.” “So, do you know what you’re doing?” she asked. “That’s a bold question,” I replied teasingly. “Let’s just say, I had a very good teacher and I haven’t had any complaints. Have you ever had an orgasm?” “Yeah, I think so  ...” Tammy said. “You think so?” I said laughing. “I don’t think you have. Most women know when they have one, they make enough noise.” I had her on the hook and decided to leave her hanging. I made an excuse and told her I would call the next day. We spent the next few days talking on the phone and our chats became increasingly steamy. She asked me about my past sexual experiences and we sexted a few times. She sent me some racy pics of her in a bikini and a pic of her doing a summersault flashing her undies. Things were moving along smoothly. We started instant messaging each other on Skype. Her face would pop up on my laptop late at night and I persuaded her to disrobe. First, it started with her taking her off her T-shirt and showing me her bra. Then, I persuaded her to slip off her bra and flash her boobs. Soon, I got her to do fully nude shows, after her parents had gone to bed. I also took out my cock and jerked off for her. She said it was hot and made her wet. Finally, after two weeks of online teasing, Tammy told her parents she was going to a sleepover and came over to my apartment. She showed up around 11:30 p.m. wearing her cheerleading outfit, just like I asked. Her hair was done in girlish pigtails and she had a naughty smile on her face. I met her at the door and bent down to kiss her. We had been chatting for weeks, so we both knew what we wanted. We kissed for several minutes at the door, then I swept her up and carried her to the bedroom. Our mouths were joined, as I laid her down on the bed. I could feel her hands running over my chest as I flipped her over and lifted up her skirt. “I want to fuck you with that uniform on,” I said huskily. Since I was much older than her, she pretty much followed my lead. Tammy got on her knees and put her butt in the air. I slipped off her nylon panties and pushed my finger into her bare cunt. She squealed, as she felt my finger explore her pussy. She was getting wet as I kissed her neck and she moaned as she felt my finger deep inside her. I found her clit and rubbed it with my finger. It grew under my touch and I stroked it softly. I could feel her breath getting ragged and I was taking her to places she had never been to before. I kissed her neck and thrust another finger into her dripping snatch. That was it, she started thrashing like a bucking bronco and moaning. She let out a throaty scream and I noticed her groin was soaked. “Oh my God!” she said, looking horror struck. “Did I just pee the bed?” “Um no,” I said laughing. “I think you just squirted. Haven’t you done that before?” She looked embarrassed. “I’ve played with myself a few times, but never anything like that.” “That’s okay,” I said reassuringly. “Sex is like driving a car, the more you do it the better you get. Right now you, still have your learning permit.” She laughed and hugged me. We lay there and I realized that she was still wearing her uniform. I told her to strip and she showed off her gorgeous body. She had tanned skin and perky breasts, they were a perfect mouthful. She really was an outstanding specimen of womanhood, and easily hot enough to be a Playboy model. She laid her bronzed body next to mine and felt my manhood gratefully. “That’s nice and big, just right for me,” she purred. “I want to feel it inside me.” She got back on her knees and pushed her butt invitingly in the air. “Come and get it,” she said teasingly, wiggling her ass. I laughed, pulled off my clothes and got behind her. I spread her ass cheeks and slipped my cock into her warm, wet pussy and gasped as I entered her. She was tight, because she hadn’t been with many men. She tensed up a little, as her pussy engulfed my dick, and then pushed back against me. I thrust deeper and she didn’t complain, so I pushed in all the way to the hilt, until my balls were slapping against her ass. I slammed her ass hard, reached forward and grabbed her pig tails. There was something deliciously naughty about fucking a cheerleader like she was a rag doll. I could hear Tammy moaning and breathing hard as I built up a faster pace. Then she came again, with a loud squeal and I felt her pussy pulsating. I had worked myself into a frenzy slamming her ass and spurted gobs of cum into her tight pussy. Afterwards, we collapsed and lay there not moving. “Don’t move, I want to feel you inside me,” she said softly. “I never get to do that with guys my age. They just want to cum and pull out.” I wrapped my strong arms around her small body and embraced her. It sounded as, if for all of her beauty, Tammy was really missing intimacy. She pulled away from me and asked if she could get on top, something she had never done before. I was happy to oblige and watched as she rode my dick to another body-shaking orgasm. Tammy happily spent the night fucking me and enjoying her new found orgasms. We started a sexually-charged relationship. She was like an addict, who had just discovered crack and my dick was the pipe. She sent me lengthy texts saying how much she loved fucking me and wanted to marry me. I had been round the block a few times and realized she was confusing passionate sex with love. I patiently told her the two were different. She sulked and was upset, but she still came over after school and blew me. Afterwards, I hiked up her skirt and slowly ate her pussy, spending a long time bringing her to orgasm. She burst into tears of joy, embraced me saying she was in love. I hugged her and said, “You’re mistaking an orgasm for love.” She brushed away her tears and pounded on my chest. “I do love you.” This descended into a heated argument which involved much pouting, hair flinging and eventually, more wild sex. We agreed to disagree on the love thing, but both enjoyed fucking each other. I spent that summer teaching Tammy about sex, porn and sharing all the lessons I learned. I even taught her about Black History. You could say I corrupted her. I prefer to see it as educating her on how to appreciate her body. At the twilight of the summer, we drove out to the lake at midnight in Tammy’s convertible Mustang and made love in the backseat under the stars. We found a secluded spot, where Tammy’s moans were drowned out by the croaking frogs. Afterwards, we cuddled and looked up at the sky. Tammy started crying. “I’m going away to college tomorrow,” she cried. “I can’t believe this is happening. I finally find a man who knows how to fuck, and I have to move away.”

I was more pragmatic. “You wanted to go away to college, and now you got that. Life is short, and you have to make the most of every moment. We had a good time, but we are going in different directions.” She looked away from me and sobbed gently. Then she dried her eyes and kissed me softly. We drove back to my place in silence and kissed goodbye one last time. Tammy went to away to college. We keep up online, but I realize she has a life and I'm moving forward in a different direction. But, I'm sure Larry was surprised when Tammy came home at Christmas and said she was changing her major to African American studies!

Dixie Swingers

When people think of Mississippi, they think of confederate flags, cross burnings and hicks. They don’t think of swingers, but we do exist down here. I know, because I’m one of them. In many ways, I’m your typical Mississippi person. I am not ashamed to admit I’m a redneck. I drive a pickup truck and own a gun. I did graduate high school, but I never went to college. I got married to my high school sweetheart, Joey, when I got pregnant with our daughter, Lynette. Joey got a job working for the utility department and I stayed home with the kid and worked at Wal-Mart on the weekends. We managed to save up a little money and get a small two-bedroom shotgun shack, and settled down into the grind of life.

Most outsiders think that Mississippi is racist as hell, and we are all Klan members down here. It’s not like that, we live in a small town of about 4,000 people, where pretty much everyone knew each other. There wasn’t any open hostility, but the blacks, who were about 40 percent of the population, pretty much stayed in the own section of town. They had black churches and black bars. The only place where people really interacted was at school, where I had plenty of black friends. But, it didn’t really go beyond that. Interracial mixing was discouraged. I heard whispers of white girls, who fooled around with black guys and got pregnant. They were pretty much run out of town by their own families. Yeah, this was the 21st century, but we Mississippians are slow to change. Some people are still mad about losing the Civil War.

My parents were fairly open minded, for people in Mississippi. I never heard them using the n-word and they didn’t mind me having black friends. But my daddy, who was a pickup-driving redneck with a beer belly and cap, made it clear that it wasn’t to go beyond that.  “You can be friends with them, but we don’t mix,” he told me, when I turned 16 and started dating. My dad stood 6ft 4 inches, weighed over 250 pounds and was an intimidating figure. Mom and my sisters were all terrified, when he flew into a rage, and his word was law.

I could never understand why there was so much resistance to interracial dating. Nobody could ever give me a decent answer as to why black people, especially black men, were off limits. Some people that said that God didn’t believe in mixing race, but I had read the Bible and it was never mentioned there. Actually, growing up in Mississippi, people rarely talked about sex. We didn’t get sex education in school, apart from abstinence-only crap which we got in church, and my parents didn’t tell me anything, other than save it for marriage. Of course kids, being hormonal teenagers, experimented and many girls ended up like me, getting pregnant.

Even though Mississippi tried to stay stuck in the past, they couldn’t keep out the Internet and when you went online you could see anything. When Joey was off working and my daughter was sleeping, I would browse the Internet. I had some girlfriends from school I kept up with, and they would send me scandalous stuff, links to porn and even worse, interracial sex. I was shocked at the porn, but intrigued at the interracial stuff. I had only been with Joey, but the black men in the porn videos were huge, some of them must have been up to 10 inches. Were all black men hung like that, I wondered? Was that the reason why there was so much animosity towards black men?

Joey and I had a pretty normal sex life. We tried to do it as much as we could, but in between work and raising a daughter, we barely got around to it once a week. Joey realized we had gotten into a rut and one night, while laying in bed, he made a bold suggestion.

“Why don’t we look into swinging?” he asked cautiously. Like most men, he fantasized about having a threesome with two women. I wasn’t totally against the idea, I had practised french kissing with girls at sleepovers, but I had only been with Joey. I really wanted to see what it was like to be with other men and women, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone.

We went online and started searching. We joined Swing Lifestyle and found out there were actually quite a few swingers in Mississippi. There were a handful of clubs, but they were all in the big cities, which were far away from us. We decided we would have to settle for reaching out to people locally. I joined a group called Dixie Swingers and found out there was a member, about 30 minutes from us, who was throwing a get together. I talked to Joey and he said we should attend. That Saturday night we left our daughter with my mom, got decked out in our best jeans and dress shirts, hopped into Joey’s Chevy truck and followed the navigation directions to the house, which was a few towns over from us. The directions led us to a split-level home in an upscale neighborhood. We guessed where the party was, because there was a bunch of cars parked on the street in front of the home.

We gathered our courage and walked up the pathway past a neatly-trimmed lawn to the front door. We rang the doorbell and it was answered by a bear of a man, who wore a polo shirt and brown slacks. He had white hair and a deep tan.

“Well howdy,” he said jovially. “I’m Trent, you guys must be here for the party.”

He welcomed us into his beautiful house and showed us around. The living room was filled with a variety of people of different ages. They looked as if they came from all walks of life, there were some preppy-looking couples, a few people who dressed country and even some senior citizens. Trent introduced us to his wife, Candi. She was short, with bleached blonde hair, and huge, fake breasts. She wore a black, lace top, black leggings, and she seemed friendly. They seemed like an odd pair and I wondered what had drawn them together. He was much older than her.

Trent gave us a brief tour of the home, showing the upstairs bedrooms and the backyard pool. As he was talking, he gave a brief history of how he started swinging.

“I went to college in San Francisco, which is Freak City,” he said. “That’s where I got into all of this. When I moved back to Mississippi, I got married and tried to live the vanilla life, but that didn’t satisfy me. I got divorced and then I met Candi. I like to watch her getting fucked.”

I was embarrassed, he was so casual about his sexuality, but I was also turned on by his explicit talk. Trent finished his tour and we found ourselves back in the spacious kitchen, where Candi was filling up an ice bowl.

“Y’all have a nice house,” I said shyly.

“Well, thank you, sugar,” said Candi sweetly. “You have a pretty husband.” She eyed Joey. He was tanned and muscular from his job working on the lines at the utility company. He had a rugged charm about him, and that was what first attracted me. I could see how he drew women in. At first, I felt pangs of jealousy, because some other woman was looking at him with googly eyes, but then I reminded myself we had come to the party to explore our boundaries.

Candi offered us some drinks and then she nestled in a corner with Joey and I. She was very flirtatious, playing with his chest and running her fingers through his hair. Candi also let an arm snake round my waist, so I wasn’t left out. She started to hug both of us and exchange kisses. It was the first time I had been kissed by an adult woman, and it felt different from a man, much softer and sensual. There was also no stubble, which was a pleasant change. She clutched our hands and said, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

She led us to a well-furnished bedroom which featured a four-poster bed. Candi pulled off her top and unhooked her bra. Her fake boobs spilled free and I could see Joey starring at them. I also noticed a huge bulge in his jeans, as Candi pulled off her pants and revealed she had a bald muff. Apparently, she was ready for action. She beckoned me to come to her and we embraced. She kissed me passionately and started tugging at my clothes. My blouse and bra were soon off as she ripped off my jeans and yanked down my cotton panties. I felt her warm mouth against my breasts as she teased my nipples until they were hard. l couldn’t believe I was making out with a beautiful woman, while my husband watched in the corner.

“You got a pretty pussy, sugar,” said Candi huskily. “I want to eat it.”

I nodded silently, enthralled by her touch. She pushed me down on the bed and spread my legs. Before she started working on my pussy, she called over her shoulder to Joey.

“You want to get in on this, stud?” she asked. “My pussy ain’t seen no action.”

Joey didn’t have to be asked twice. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his boxers and jeans. His dick was red and hard. Joey got behind Candi and fucked her doggy style, as she licked my pussy. He had gone down on me a few times, but he was nothing like Candi. She had evidently done this before, and she licked my cunt as if it was second nature. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but the sound was caught in my throat. All that came out, was a throaty moan. Joey was fucking Candi from behind and I could hear his hips slapping against her ass. I could feel every thrust, because each pump pushed her mouth deeper into my snatch.

I felt the first wave of an orgasm building up in me. I tried to hold it back as long as I could, but Candi was just too good. I clutched the pillows, threw my head back and yelled, “Oh God! I’m coming.” My body shook as it was wracked with a huge orgasm. I fell back on the bed, with my arm covering my face. I rested as Candi and Joey kept fucking. He was pounding her hard while she was urging him on.

“Yeah, stud,” she growled. “Give me that dick.”

Joey kept thrusting away at her pussy. I could hear him grunting and watched his face contort. I knew he was getting close. Candi was right in front of me and I got a good look at her face as she was cumming. She groaned loudly and her eyes rolled back in her head. She clutched the sheets and screamed, “Oh my God! Right there!” Joey slammed hard against her, grabbed some hair and grunted as he shot his load. Candi fell face down on the bed exhausted as, Joey pulled his dripping cock out of her. She rested for a few moments, then got up and started pulling her clothes on.

“Sorry to run, but that was great,” she said, as she put on her pants. “I gotta go downstairs and play hostess.” And with that, she disappeared.

We relaxed on the bed for a while. Joey looked over at me with a big grin on his face.

“Thank you for making my dream come true,” he said.

I kissed him, pleased that I could make him happy.  We put our clothes back on and went downstairs to join the party. I was thirsty and headed to the kitchen to get some refreshments. I was struck by a tall, black man, who was standing in the corner chatting with Candi.  He was bald and had a neatly-trimmed moustache. He wore a starched shirt and pressed jeans. The man looked gorgeous. Candi noticed me staring at the guy and introduced us.

“Lonnie, this is Sissy,” Candie said, with a grin. “Sissy and her husband, Joey, are newbies. I need to mingle, so you be nice to her.”

She drifted off, leaving me alone with Lonnie. I was tongue tied in front of him. As a white girl, in Mississippi I had been warned, on the pain of death, to stay away from black men, but here was one right in front of me, in this sexual playground. I had already broken so many taboos, was I going to be able to break the big one?

Fortunately, Lonnie was talkative. He said he owned a trucking company and drove all over the country. He had also been in the Marines and traveled the world.

“It showed me there was a big world outside Mississippi,” he said. “That was when I first hooked up with white women. l realized I liked it and they liked me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked naively.

“There are lot of white women all over the world, who want to fuck black guys,” he said casually. “Even here in Mississippi, believe it or not. That’s why I come to these parties.”

I eyed his crotch and he stared at my nipples, which were straining against the thin fabric of my blouse. The sexual tension was thick in the air. Joey showed up and I grabbed his hand and pulled him aside.

“Joey,” I said. “I want to fuck that black dude and I don’t know how to ask him. Can you do it? I made your fantasy come true.”

Joey grinned slyly. “I noticed you talking to him,” he said. “Actually, I always fantasized about watching you fuck a black guy. Let me see what I can do.”

He went over to Lonnie and they chatted for a while and then both came back over to me. “Okay, let’s do this,” Lonnie said. We found an empty downstairs bedroom and closed the door behind us. Lonnie gently brushed my hair and touched my ass.

“Come here, Sissy,” he said and pulled me too him. His touch was firm, but strong and he kissed me with his full, red lips. They felt so sensuous as they smothered my mouth. I had seen old racist cartoons, where they mocked black people with huge lips. Well, all I can say is, they have no idea what they were talking about. Those huge, luscious lips felt incredible against my small mouth. I wanted to bite them, because they felt so juicy. I began to unbutton my blouse, and take off my pants. Lonnie pulled off his shirt and revealed a muscled, brown chest. I reached out and touched him, fascinated by the contrast of my pale, white hands against his brown skin.

Lonnie bent down and kissed my breasts. Those huge lips felt wonderful sucking on my nipples, as I bent my head back and groaned. Lonnie stepped back from me and pulled off his jeans. He dropped his boxers and I gasped. He had a beautiful cock, which must have been at least eight inches long. It was brown, shiny and had a mushroom head. This was my dream come true, I felt like I was living in a porn movie. Lonnie got behind me and kissed my neck. He pushed me onto the bed and gripped my butt.

“Hey, you want to get in on this, Joey?” he asked. Joey dropped his pants and was stroking himself. He came over to the bed and slipped his cock into my mouth. I swallowed him, just as Lonnie pushed into me. I would have screamed, if my mouth hadn’t been full, but I soon got used to his thick tool moving back and forth in my pussy. He was stretching me out and taking me to places I’d never gone before. I felt Lonnie pound away at my cunt as I sucked Joey’s dick. I had been with Joey since I was 16 and knew his cock better than the back of my hand. Getting him off was easy, except this time, I had the added pleasure of being fucked by a big, black cock. It felt sumptuous!

My tongue teased Joey and licked away at his shaft. I watched his face get red and contort, as he tried to hold back the inevitable. But I was too skillful. I stroked his cock as I sucked and milked his man juice from his balls. Joey pulled out of me and sat back on the bed drained. Lonnie was taking his time, fucking me with slow,deep thrusts. He was bringing me slowly to the peak and every time he thrust into me, he went deeper into my womb. He built up the pace and soon was slamming me hard. I lost control and screamed as one orgasm ripped through me, then another and another. Suddenly, I felt Lonnie groan, tense up against me and shoot hot cum into my cunt. He was fucking me so hard, I lost count of how many times I came. I lay back on the bed and watched the two men gasping for breath. I smiled to myself knowing, I drained both of them. I was still raring to go, but realized the men needed a breather.

Lonnie got up, and pulled on his pants. “Thanks,” he said. “That was awesome. Let’s stay in touch.”

We stayed at the party a few more hours and watched people fuck and suck. Candi found me again and asked if I had played with Lonnie. I said I had.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” she said. “Be careful, you can get hooked on that black dick. Hell, if I wasn’t married to Trent, I’d be banging down his door.”

We both giggled like women who had been let into a secret sorority that worshipped BBC. Joey and I were getting tired, we left and drove home discussing our wild night. We started going out to parties regularly and hooking up with bisexual women on Swing Lifestyle. I saw Lonnie at parties and always made a beeline for him. He was real popular with the ladies and I had to get there quick or end up taking a number. Lonnie discovered my profile on Swing Lifestyle and we stayed in touch that way too.

Unfortunately, things didn’t get better between me and Joey. He enjoyed the party lifestyle a little too much. He started going out drinking with his buddies and I learned he hooked up with some of the women we had met, without me. He would often be gone on weekend benders and I would never see him at all, leaving me to raise our daughter practically by myself. Eventually, he moved in with one of his buddies and said he wanted to live the single life. I was devastated and cried myself to sleep for a few weeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen to high-school sweethearts. I really shouldn’t have been surprised. Mississippi might be the buckle of the Bible Belt, but we also have a very high divorce rate too. All those shot-gun weddings don’t lead to marital bliss.

I suddenly realized that I could now do whatever I wanted. I thought about Lonnie and remembered the way it felt fucking him. It was so good, that I dreamed of him when I was having sex with Joey. Now that I was single, I could do like Candi said, and have Lonnie anytime I wanted. I emailed him and asked for his number. We talked on the phone for a few minutes and I asked him if he could come over. Even though it was the 21st century, we had to keep it on the downlow. He came over to my house around midnight, when all my neighbors were asleep. Lynette was also out cold too. He parked his truck down the street and sneaked to my door. I met him wearing a bra and panties and quickly let him in. He kissed me and I dragged him to my bedroom. We had known each other for a while, so we both realized what we wanted. My undies were off in a flash and he was soon naked too. I stood there and admired his glistening body.  I lay back on the bed and watched him hover over me. His mouth devoured my breasts, and he traced his tongue down my body, stopping at my pussy. He got between my legs and sucked on my clit. His tongue thrust into my dripping cunt as his thumbs tweaked my clitoris. His pussy-eating skills were almost as good as Candi’s, and I had multiple orgasms, before I gushed on his face. But Lonnie wasn’t finished, that was the entree, I wanted the main course -- his dick. He climbed on top of me and pinned my legs behind my head. He sank his cock deep into my pussy and I had to bite my hand to stifle a scream. We had fucked before, but never this deeply and intimately. Lonnie pumped his prick into me again and again, until my pussy throbbed with another orgasm. I was climaxing again and I barely noticed when he grunted and shot his load.

We lay there listening to the crickets chirping in the steamy night, as the fan hummed in the background.  I laid my hand over his taut stomach tenderly.

“I want you to spend the night ...” I said.

“ … but you don’t want your neighbors to see me,” he answered. “I understand.”

We made love twice more and Lonnie left at 2 a.m. I felt abandoned in the big bed and all alone. I wanted to do more than fuck, I wanted to wake up next to him. Lonnie and I now see each other regularly. He comes over at night and sometimes we hook up at motels on the outskirts of town, where no one can see us. We’ve even taken pictures of our naked bodies lying together, which looks ever so erotic. I use them to get me off, when he is gone.  It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do right now. I don’t know how to tell my family that I prefer black men.  Until then, I will keep my affair on the downlow. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell the world I love BBC.