Henry

I first saw Nia on a Sunday afternoon in a shopping mall. She was about my height - at 5'10", a tall woman. Her clothes were striking. She was dressed in a dark blue cape over a print Taraji. Under the Taraji were a light orange tunic and pants. Her clothing did not conceal the magnificent figure underneath, but it did conceal much of her beautiful amber skin.

I was not usually attracted to women of color, but she was different. I followed in her wake, like a moonstruck adolescent. "What could I say to her?" After all, I was a writer. I would ask her for an interview regarding her amazing outfit.

She stopped to admire a blouse in a clothing store.

I opened with, "Hi, I'm Henry. I'm a writer. I wanted to find out more about your outfit. Can I ask you a few questions."

She turned toward me. I hadn't realized how striking her face was. She looked at me and smiled. Her penetrating gaze made me feel like she was looking at my soul.

"You can ask me a few questions, but is that all you want?"

I was thunderstruck but trying to rise to the occasion. "Can we go somewhere? Can I buy you a drink?"

That look, penetrating but fun-loving. "Over there," she gestured toward a small bar a few doors down. "I'll have a sweet white wine."

"You aren't Muslim?"

"I am, but I belong to the fun-loving branch."

"What does that mean?"

"I try to follow most Islamic teachings, but I consider it all right to pick and choose. I figure what the imams don't know, doesn't hurt them."

"So, it's a sort of pick and choose branch of Islam?"

"Right. I practice moderation in alcohol and sex."

It seemed like she was completely self-assured and spoke without artifice or subterfuge.

We sat at a small table and ordered our drinks.

"What should I call you?" I asked.

"You can call me Nia since that's my name."

"Nia, the more you talk, the more interesting you seem," I told her. "You must have an interesting background."

"I don't know," she replied.

"Were you born here or in Africa?"

"I was born in East Africa. My family came here about eight years ago."

"Did you have to undergo many hardships?"

"The last few years in our homeland were very bad."

"Of course, I don't know you, but you seem to be in a good place now."

"The bad times are in the past. I dealt with them, and I think I have been able to go beyond them."

"Can you talk about them?"

"I think so. Why?"

"I'd like to hear about them, and how you dealt with them."

"We had a long-lasting civil war. Twice the soldiers came to our village and raped me."

"That's terrible."

"It was. Worse yet, the second time they took me away for several weeks until I was able to escape."

"How did you get away?"

"We moved around a lot. Eventually they came close to my village. When the camp came under attack, I was able to run away."

"Did you have a plan for your escape?"

"I just ran away when the camp came under attack."

"I can't imagine how you must have felt, as a prisoner in the camp."

"I don't think you could. As a young girl, it was very difficult. I finally was able to disassociate myself from what was happening to me. It was a way to sublimate the constant degradation and humiliation. When I finally was able to go home, I had to deal with it all. It took me a few years."

"Is that when your parents brought you to America?"

"That's when my parents started preparing to leave. It took about two years before we were finally able to leave home and come to America."

"How long ago was that?"

"Eight years ago."

"You seem like a happy, upbeat person, now."

"Thank you for saying that. I still think about it occasionally, usually for only a short time. I have been able to treat the bad times as something bad that happened to me, but not something that should ruin the rest of my life. Now that I can talk about it, it is easier to deal with."

"That's remarkable. The more I listen to you, the more amazing you seem to be. Are you an actual model?"

"Sort of. I do swimsuits and lingerie, part time. I'm too curvy for high fashion."

"Does your religion affect your modeling?"

"A little bit. If what I'm wearing is too revealing, I ask them to take my head out of the picture."

"How does that work?"

"Usually pretty well. No one has connected my headless bikini and thong shots to my full one-piece shots."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"You're hesitating."

"Because I'm not sure. I have two boyfriends, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I guess they're really more like fuckbuddies."

"So, can I ask you to dinner?"

"Sure, what time?"

"I was thinking like as soon as we're finished here."

"I'm finished shopping, but I was thinking I might change since I have a real dinner date!"

"Only if you want to. But I wanted to ask you about your outfit. You're such an amazing person, I forgot about your clothes."

"Ask away."

"I was thinking I might follow you home and ask while you're changing."

"I'm not sure about that. It's a small apartment."

"I could wait in my car while you're changing."

"Okay, are we going to talk about clothes before or after I change."

"How about before? Then I can just wait for you to come out."

"Okay. I'll give you my address and phone number in case we get separated."

"Great."

I followed her home and into her apartment.

"Nice pad," I complimented her. "What is your outer garment called?"

"It can be called a kitenge, but that has two meanings. It can refer to the robe, or it can refer to the fabric the robe is made from."

She took it off. "You can feel it. It is very nice."

I felt it. "It is very nice."

She took the coat off next. "This can be called a Taraji; like kitenge, Taraji can refer to the fabric or the coat."

"And next?" I prompted her.

"The rest of the outfit is called tunic and pants, and I'm not taking them off until you're on your way to your car. If I took them off, I suspect I would get a different treat than a nice dinner."

"You wouldn't have to call your fuckbuddies," I suggested.

She smiled and confessed, "I like my fuckbuddies."

"You are very direct," I told her.

"When I wasn't sure I would survive my rapes, I decided I would always tell it like it is, unless there was an immediate danger or harm to someone."

"I'm not recommending rape, but I think you are a very unique person, and it's partly due to what happened to you."

"Perhaps but I try not to dwell on it."

"Thank you for sharing that with me. I'm glad to know there's still a sensitive little girl inside you."

"Maybe I've been too open with you."

"I sincerely hope not. I have to believe that you're not taking any more clothing off until I leave, so I'm on my way to my car."

"I won't be long!"

"Bye for now!" and I walked out the door.

In a few minutes, she came out dressed in a little black dress. She filled it up nicely. Clearly, she had the right stuff in all the right places.

"Is this okay?" she asked, giving me a full 360.

"You look fantastic!" I couldn't believe I was talking to such a beautiful woman. I could tell she was attractive when her body was obscured by the Taraji, but now I felt like her body was saying, 'Love me! Love me!' "Would you like Italian?" I asked.

"Something lighter," she replied. "Got to keep my model figure!"

"Of course," I suggested, "how about French?"

"Sure," she said, "I'm hungry, but I still have to eat light."

I knew of a French restaurant in a converted house in a transitioning neighborhood: older houses, newer apartment and condo buildings; newer still low-rise office buildings; no parking garages yet.

When we arrived at the valet parking spot, she shared, "I've heard of this place, but never been here. Thank you for bringing me here."

All that, and good manners, too. What an amazing woman! I already had my hopes up as to what I would find when I began to unwrap this package.

When the maître d showed us to our table, there was a hush. I don't think it was because of a mixed-race couple; I think it was because of the astounding assets barely concealed in the little black dress.

Nia

I went to a mall to pick up a few things. I wore some traditional clothes because they're so comfortable, and they're somewhat concealing. Unfortunately, it seems that there's no peace, anywhere. There's always a guy hitting on you. This guy didn't seem too bad. I didn't go out with many Anglo guys, but he seemed to be a bit OK. When he asked me to have a drink with him, I agreed.

I couldn't believe that this guy had me talking about the bad times in only a few minutes after I met him. Even the African guys I dated weren't that direct. Maybe it was a good sign. I liked directness and might as well get the difficult conversations out of the way early. I also made it clear that although I liked sex, my fuck buddies were taking good care of me, so I didn't need his help in that department.

He asked me out for dinner, and since I only had the vaguest plans for having one of my fuckbuddies over, I accepted. I could still get one of my fuckbuddies to come over, after I sent this guy home.

He followed me home; his excuse was to learn more about my clothing. I did a partial strip, taking off my cape and robe. He showed an appropriate interest, so I was already considering him a viable option for later in the evening.

I couldn't decide what to wear for dinner; it sounded like he was taking me somewhere nice, so I decided on my little black dress. It covered everything but showed every curve. I enjoyed the reaction it usually got, both from dates and casual onlookers.

When I rejoined him at his car, he showed an appropriate interest, which was a good sign. He was apparently not gay and not too Christian.

I was excited by his choice of restaurant as I had heard of it, but never been to it. I complimented him on his choice. When the maitre'd showed us to our seats, the little black dress got its usual response. When conversation resumed, I asked him, "I told you about my religion, what's yours?"

"Good question," he replied. "I guess the easy answer is Unitarian, although I sometimes go to the Methodist Church."

"But what do you believe?"

"I guess I'm a little like you, I consider myself to be a Christian, but there's some parts of traditional Christian orthodoxy I can't accept. What I like about Unitarians is that they don't say they have the answers, but instead they say that we'll help you try to find the questions."

Things seemed to be going nicely. We could talk about religion, even though we didn't have the same beliefs. Why not politics? I asked him, "Do you follow politics?"

"Yes, I used to be a Republican, at least as far as fiscal policy was concerned, but when they began to cater to the religious right, I started to vote Democratic."

"But what do you believe?"

"I believe government should help and protect the people, as help and protection are needed."

"So, do you believe in welfare programs?"

"Yes," Henry replied. "I do believe there should be protections against fraud, and there should be incentives to go back to work, but some people can't help themselves. It's very unusual for a single mother to be able to make enough money to afford childcare, particularly, if she has three or four children. Some people are incapable of supporting themselves because of disabilities, physical or mental."

"My family was on welfare when we first came here. After we learned some English, my father went to work full-time, and my mother did some part-time work while my siblings and I were in school."

"An excellent example. As I understand your family's situation, you needed welfare for a while until you were able to support yourselves."

"How do you feel about the taxes here?" I asked him.

"I've always felt that if the economic system provides you with the benefits, you should be willing to pay your fair share. There are two issues: 'Is your share fair?' and 'Is the money being spent wisely?' If that is met, I'm happy with paying taxes, or at least willing to pay."

I told him I agreed, if you make the money, you should be willing to pay the taxes. After that, we talked about modeling. I told him some funny stories about modeling. Almost too soon, dinner was over. Henry paid for my dinner, and we drove back to my place. I invited him in for a nightcap, hoping there would be more.

Henry

I can't remember ever having such a delightful dinner companion. We were able to discuss religion and politics without ill feelings, although this was helped by being mostly in agreement on politics. I couldn't believe my good fortune in finding a woman who was beautiful, and such a pleasure to hang out with. I was hoping the same standards would apply if I was able to join her in her bed.

She seemed to enjoy the evening and invited me in for a nightcap. I decided to take it slow at first and see what happened; I could always speed things up later. She poured two glasses of white wine. We had a couple of sips and chatted a little about the entrees we had enjoyed. I decided to lean in and see what happened. She didn't lean toward me, but she didn't lean away, so I gave her my best imitation of soft lips to lips.

I leaned away, and when I leaned back in, she leaned in, too. I added a tongue caress to her lips. She opened her mouth, and I began to caress the inside of her lips, while still kissing her outer lips. I reached for her bra catch, but there wasn't any because there was no bra. Rookie mistake! I settled for pulling down the top of her little black dress down far enough for her boobs to pop out.

She didn't object so I sucked on the left boob while stimulating her right nipple with my index finger. I could hear her breathing more deeply, so I knew I wasn't the only one enjoying this. She was just full of surprises.

"I don't want to wrinkle my dress, so why don't we take this next door," she told me.

"I wouldn't want to wrinkle your dress," I concurred.

She took off her dress and her hose, while I took off my pants, shoes, socks, and shirt, leaving her in her panties and me in my shorts. She laid down on the bed, and I was happy to join her. I was hoping I was on my A-game, because I wanted this to be a night she would never forget. I started kissing her again, this time with my left hand on her pubis. After a few circles of her clitoris, I stuck my hand inside her panties. She seemed to be enjoying this as she was kissing me back in between moans. I kissed her once more on her lips, then her throat, then each of her boobs. I ran my tongue down her upper abdomen, then her lower abdomen, and then I pulled her panties over her hips to mid-thigh and went after her clitoris and labia.

When I ran my tongue around the entrance to her pussy, I got the taste of East Africa. I paused a second to enjoy it, and then went after more. I stuck my arms under her legs so I could massage her boobs while going around and around the inside of her slit. Now, she was groaning 'Oh!'s. I knew I was in business. Only a couple of minutes more, and her hips were bucking as her pussy contracted in a light orgasm and then relaxed.

There was no question of my readiness, nor of hers. I pulled her panties the rest of the way down, and quickly yanked my shorts off. She compliantly spread her legs wide, and I began rubbing her inner and outer labia with my cock. Then I slowly slid it into her womanhood. When our pelvises met, she groaned out, "Oh, Henry!" Music to my ears. I begin to slowly stroke her in and out, then I gradually increased the tempo. Her heavy breathing gave way to moans, and then she began groaning 'Oh!'s and 'Ah!'s. I increased the speed and power of my strokes and listened to her cries of 'It's good!' 'It's so good!' and 'Oh, Henry!'. Her body convulsed as she orgasmed. "Ohmigod! Ohmigod," she cried.

I rolled her over and she raised her hips in preparation for doggy style. I found her brown butt to be very stimulating. I was determined not to disappoint her. I massaged her pubis with my cock and then penetrated her. She felt so good; this would be a struggle not to cum before we were both ready. Again, I started slowly, gradually increasing the tempo and force of my strokes. I had no doubts about her enjoyment of my efforts, as she repeatedly cried out. Again, her body shook, as she orgasmed, and I felt the contractions of her pussy. I rubbed her boobs with my hands, and kissed her at the top of her back, just below her neck. That was good for another groan.

I pushed her down into the flatiron position and began pounding her bottom. She cried out her joy, as I again gradually increased my strokes. She could only take so much and again her body shook as she climaxed. "Oh, God, Henry, that is so good." She told me nothing that I wasn't already experiencing.

She had turned her head partway to me, I pulled it a little further so I could kiss her lips. She responded enthusiastically, exploring my mouth with her tongue. I released her head and began stroking her again. I hoped she was going to be satisfied because I couldn't hold back much longer. Too soon, I began filling her with my jism. She apparently liked it, because I could feel the spasms in her buttocks, indicating that she had had one last orgasm.

I slowly withdrew, and then rolled her over, so I could kiss her face to face. "Oh, Henry," she told me breathlessly, "That was so good." I could feel her sincerity in the strength of her embrace. After a few minutes of kissing, she pulled away. "If you keep doing this, you'll get me going again," she confessed.

"That might not be all bad," I replied. I couldn't believe my good fortune. In the early afternoon, I had had no idea of her existence. I was able to talk to her for a while, and then have a dinner date with her. She was not only extraordinarily attractive, but fun to hang out with. Then, I found out that she was a marvelous lover. It seemed that the most imperfect thing in her life was me.

I decided to kiss her again. She smiled at me. "Are you trying to replace my fuckbuddies?" she teased.

"Not at all," I replied, "I will be applying to be your live-in lover, not your fuckbuddy."

"Don't you think it's a bit early for that," she chided me.

"Yes, I haven't applied yet, but I will in a few days," I replied.

"What will I do with my fuckbuddies, then?" she asked.

I wasn't sure if she was joking or serious. She was smiling, but that could mean several different things. After all, she had just had a fantastic fucking and could still be feeling that. "At this point, everything's negotiable!" I replied.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "I'm usually a good hostess, but you took my breath away."

"Nia, I think you're wonderful!" I exclaimed. "You don't need to worry about anything!"

"I do worry sometimes. Like right now, can I touch your dingus?"

My dingus? Give me a break! Of course, I knew what she meant. She was always surprising me. "Of course."

She started touching me in different places on my cock. She surprised me again when she touched my balls. She could tell what she was doing to me. My 'dingus' started getting harder. Then, she began sucking it. I started to sit up, she cautioned me, "Leave the driving to us!" Apparently, she was satisfied with her handiwork, because she inserted my cock into her pussy. I wasn't completely hard before, but the warmth of her wet cunt quickly fixed that.

I wanted to get up for some reason, but she pushed me down and began sliding up and down on my cock. God, she was good. Up until now, I had been confident that I was seducing her. Now, I was no longer sure who the seducer was. I knew that her stroking was delightful. After a few more strokes, she gasped as her body shook in orgasm, and then she leaned down and kissed me.

She sat back up and bracing herself with hands on my legs, she began sliding back and forth on my cock. This was even better. It didn't matter what position and what angle of entry, it was a constant struggle for me not to come too soon. A couple of minutes, and her body was shaking in climax again.

She turned around and began banging me again in the reverse cowgirl function. This woman's body was ungodly: She looked good from any angle in any position. Again, she convulsed in climax.

She turned around and started kissing me again. Holding my shoulder with one hand, she used the other to insert me inside her. She began thrusting her pelvis against me again, while still kissing me. I could only take so much of this before I began to ejaculate. Apparently, that was enough to take her over the top as I could feel her body trembling.

She continued to kiss me. After a while, she had had enough kissing, and asked me, "Are you going to sleep over?"

"Assuming that's an invitation, sure, I'd like to sleep over." I replied.

She snuggled up against me. It was very endearing. She wasn't the first woman that had snuggled up against me, but somehow it was different with her. I was coming to the realization that if she had been trying to seduce me, she was succeeding.

She surprised me again when I woke up In the middle of the night to find her preparing to mount my cock. She exhibited an amazing knowledge of different riding positions and movement. Afterward, she told me, "I'm sorry. I just wanted some more."

I told her, "Why are you apologizing? I thought you were great!"

She kissed me and did the snuggle thing again. It felt just as good as the first time.

When morning came, I was alone in bed. As I tried to get my bearings, she appeared at the door. She had a cotton tunic on that covered her top but not her beautiful legs. She had a small tray with coffee and Danish. "I hope this is okay. It's all I had."

"Fantastic!" I replied, taking a bite of Danish.

She sat on the bed beside me, sipped some coffee, and nibbled on a Danish. She looked at me quizzically. I was nude but had a sheet covering my lower body.

She touched my manhood. "It seems like you're glad to see me," she smiled.

I managed another bite of Danish, while she pulled her tunic off over her head. Without preamble, she straddled me and inserted my cock into her pussy. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked coquettishly.

"Would you believe me, if I said I minded?" I asked.

"No, I wouldn't," as she began to move her pelvis up and down, sliding her pussy up and down on my cock. What a wonderful way to start the day. A half hour or so later, we were both satiated.

"I have to go to work," I told her. "Can I see you tonight?"

"Would you believe me if I said I wasn't interested?"

"It would be hard!"

"You're the expert on hard," she replied touching my manhood again. "What time?"

"Seven?"

"I'll be here."

Nia

Back at my apartment, I poured us white wine, and joined him on the couch. As we sipped our wine, we chatted about the restaurant. Then he leaned in toward my face. I relaxed, and he leaned in more and kissed me. It was a nice kiss. It felt good. When he leaned in again, I met him halfway. He was a nice kisser, he started licking my lips, I opened my mouth enough for him to stick his tongue in. He was an exciting kisser. I felt my body warming. He played with the back of my little black dress, and then pulled it down, baring my boobs. I thought I should resist, but by then he was licking and sucking my nipples, and it felt very good.

I decided that he was going to get it, so I suggested moving to my bedroom.

While I was hanging my dress in the closet, and folding up my pantyhose, he was splitting his time between taking his own clothes off and watching me reveal my own body. When I laid down on the bed with only my panties on, he joined me with only his shorts on.

He must have known that I wanted him; he started by kissing me and then stuck his hand between my legs. He seemed to know what he was doing, as he was soon inside my panties, making me feel very good. I encouraged him as best I could with sticking my tongue in his mouth. He then began a delightful journey down my body, licking my neck, then sucking my boobs, then running his tongue down my body until after he pulled my panties down part way, he was running his tongue around my clit. He just made me feel good. I wanted to make him feel good. Meanwhile, he was making me feel better and better. His attack on my pubis was succeeding. I began crying out my pleasure with a succession of 'Oh!'s. Too soon, I surrendered to the joy of climaxing.

He pulled my panties the rest of the way down, and removed his undershorts, exposing an aroused medium-large organ. I spread my legs. He wasn't huge, still it felt great when he penetrated me. Involuntarily, I exclaimed, "Oh, Henry!" I don't know why some male members are great, and some are not exactly; I know it's not size alone, or even technique. I know I was looking forward to this because I liked this guy. His technique was great, as he seemed to know just how fast and hard to stroke me. I guess it was just that we had a good vibe. Maybe it would last and maybe it wouldn't, but for now, he was making me feel wonderful. Each stroke was taking me higher and higher. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I gave myself completely to the sweet ecstasy of orgasm. I don't know what I was saying, I think I ended up with a couple of 'ohmigod!'s.

I would have been comfortable just lying on my back, but he rolled me over onto my stomach. I raised my butt up; I knew I had a good butt, and I knew he would find it irresistible. His entry was sweet as I felt his cock slide along the walls of my vagina. Again, his stroking was magical; I couldn't help the feelings of constantly greater arousal. Soon, he had me crying out on every stroke. Too soon, I was crying out in the exhilaration of cumming again.

He rubbed my boobs with a delightful massage. He kissed my sensitive spot on my back just below my neck. This guy seemed to have my number, and he was dialing it again.

He pushed me down into the flatiron. I couldn't move because he had me pinned to the bed with his cock. All I could do was enjoy the sensations of his cock ramming my pussy over and over. I had no control as I experienced the joy of climaxing again. I turned my head to the side, and he pulled my face toward him so he could kiss me before resuming his pounding of my butt.

Again, I passively experienced the delightful stimulation of my vaginal walls as his manhood slid in and out. He increased the speed and force of his strokes, and just before I gave myself up to the ecstasy of orgasm, I felt the tell-tale hot spurts of semen coating my tunnel of love.

He rolled me over and kissed me. What a delightful ending to a fantastic fucking. This guy was at least deserving of fuckbuddy status. Maybe more. For now, I just wanted to enjoy the endorphin rush streaming throughout my body. He kissed me a few times. I was starting to feel aroused again. I warned him about getting me going again. He kept on kissing me. I teased him about replacing my fuckbuddies. He told me he would prefer being my live-in lover.

It was funny; I just felt good about this guy. He seemed to fun to hang out with, amazing in bed, and so far, at least, a really nice guy. I decided I wanted seconds. Trying to keep things light, I asked him if I could touch his manhood, only I called it a dingus. He agreed, and in my mind, it was all over. A few minutes of touching here and there, and I was getting the reaction I wanted. I decided I would show him my riding skills. When he tried to get up, I pushed him back and told him to leave the driving to us. I proceeded to drive my pelvis against his, giving the most delicious contact between his cock and my pussy. He seemed to like it almost as much as I did. I felt him spurting inside me, just before my fourth orgasm from cowgirl riding.

I asked him if he wanted to sleep over. I snuggled up beside him giving my best impression of a little girl snuggling up to her teddy bear. I knew I would have no trouble going to sleep. Staying asleep was a different matter. I woke up in the middle of the night and decided I would like a third helping of penis-in-vagina. When Henry woke up, he cooperated. Afterward, I did the snuggle thing again, just an innocent little girl trying to stay warm.

I woke up the next morning feeling great. I decided I needed coffee. I put on a tunic so that everything wouldn't be hanging out. I had some Danish, so I nuked them and soon the coffee was ready. I put the coffee and Danish on a tray and took it to the bedroom. Henry was waking up and seemed happy with both the Danish and the coffee. I could also see that he was about ready to perform again. I pulled the tunic over my head and straddled him. He was already hard. I didn't know exactly what was going on except I had a yen for this guy, and it was not going to be easy to satisfy it. But for the moment, I was getting a lot of satisfaction from bumping my pelvis against his with the lovely feeling of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Three or four orgasms later, he filled me up. We lay on my bed side by side.

"I have to go to work," Henry told me. "Can I see you tonight?"

I had to think for at least three or four seconds before agreeing. I realized that, in spite of how good I felt now, I would be ready for more by evening.

Monday night went very much like Sunday night, except I didn't wake him up in the middle of the night. The rest of the week was pretty much the same. He would come over after work. Sometimes we would do it, sometimes I would fix some dinner, sometimes we would go out. So quickly, we fell into a routine of hanging out, screwing, and sleeping together. My days were easier than his. Sometimes, a few hours of modeling; other days, just working out and shopping. I would have an occasional lunch with one or more of my model friends. Thursday afternoon, one of my fuckbuddies called, and I told him I had been busy, but that I would get back to him when I wasn't so busy.

I was really looking forward to the weekend. Henry suggested going to the beach on Saturday. I had a new bikini that I wanted to wear. Sunday, we went to the zoo. I was really enjoying hanging out with this guy. The great sex was the icing on the cake or was it the other way around. I was slowly realizing that I just liked being with this guy. The sex was important, but doing things, even just hanging out at my apartment, was also good. He seemed like an old friend, except that I didn't have many white friends. The thing was he didn't seem like one of my black friends. He was different and the difference seemed to take my breath away.

The following Saturday was like our two-week anniversary. He took me to a nice restaurant and asked me if he was qualified to be my live-in-lover. I told him it was sudden, but he was practically living at my place anyway, so why not. I knew I had to deal with my fuckbuddies. I had been with Roger for over six months, and Felipe for close to a year, so I felt like a text or even a phone call wasn't appropriate. I invited them over for a Friday afternoon talk. They both wanted beer, so I got three beers and sat down between them on my sofa.

"Guys, I've found somebody that I really like. Actually, he's moved in with me. So, I enjoyed our relationships but it's over. If you want me to give your phone numbers to some of my friends, I can but no more booty calls."

Roger spoke first. "I'm very happy for you, Nia. I've really enjoyed our time together, but I realize you're starting a new chapter in your life. Congratulations on finding someone."

Felipe then added. "Of course, I'm happy for you, too. Finding someone special is a wonderful thing. I guess you can give my number to any of your friends."

Roger agreed, "Sure, you can give my number to any of your friends. There is still the matter of break-up sex."

"What?" I stammered. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Break-up sex," he replied. "When you part with someone on good terms, it's always nice to have one last session, called 'break-up sex'. Right, Felipe?"

"Si, Roger," Felipe continued, "This is important to bring closure to the relationship."

"Bullshit!" I replied. "I never heard of this. Anyway, it's not happening today!"

"It's not?" Roger asked. "I think it would be a nice remembrance of all the good times we've had together."

"Yes," Felipe added. "It's a nice way to end our relationship."

"Sorry, guys," I disagreed. "I'm not down for that at all. No way!"

"Way," Roger replied, and pulled my head over so that he could kiss me while I was off-balance.

Felipe went under my dress and pulled my panties down. I tried to grab them, but he was too quick, forcing my legs close enough to completely pull them off.

Roger was holding me down, trying to stick his tongue in my mouth, while Felipe grasped my buttocks with his hands and went to work with his tongue all over my clitoris and labia. I struggled but the two of them were too strong for me. When I gasped for air, Roger stuck his tongue in my mouth and started trying to suck my tongue out of my mouth. Felipe massaged my buttocks while tonguing my clit and pussy. I was resisting but I was feeling good, too. These guys had been my lovers for a long time. They knew what to do to get me going. I continued struggling but I was also becoming more and more aroused. My struggles were becoming half-hearted, as my arousal was affecting my judgment. Felipe pulled my skirt off while Roger unbuttoned my blouse. He unsnapped my bra, freeing my boobs for his kisses and squeezes. I was moaning as Felipe began using two fingers to stimulate my pussy. I still feebly tried to push Roger away, but I was ineffective. Felipe's activity was effective, and in a few minutes my hips buckled in the ecstasy of climax. Roger pulled my blouse off my shoulders and my bra off my boobs. I was nude as they guided me into my bedroom.

Felipe began kissing me while holding my upper body, while Roger penetrated me from the rear, holding my hips as he began to pound me. I knew this was wrong, but my body was responding, as I moaned and groaned. Soon, my whole body was shaking as I felt the delicious sensations of orgasm throughout my body. The guys reversed positions with Felipe banging me and Roger kissing me and playing with my boobs. I was wholeheartedly into it, as I kissed Roger and felt the exhilaration of Felipe's cock sliding in and out of my womanhood. Too soon, I surrendered to the sweet eroticism of orgasmic spasms coursing through my body. It was great. The guys switched positions again. As Roger pounded away, I was anticipating another lovely orgasm, when I realized the bedroom door had been opened, and Henry was standing there.

My blood ran cold. "Oh, Henry, don't go!" I cried. "Please don't go, Henry!" He closed the door.

What a fool I had been! The love of my life could be walking out the door. Roger finished without me. I had to go to Henry. The guys wouldn't let go of me as Felipe began ramming his cock inside me. This time I came as I felt Felipe spurting inside of me. The guys released me and started dressing. My clothes were on my living room floor. There was no help for it. I had to face Henry naked.

How embarrassing to have to face Henry nude and with cum running down my legs. "Henry, I am so sorry." I picked my panties up and pulled them on. "There's not much I can say, except that I have been foolish and I'm very sorry."

He stood up. "I guess there's not much to say."

"Please, Henry," I begged, "Please hear me out!"

He sat back down. "I'm listening."

"I'd like to say they raped me, but that would not be credible or true."

"Okay."

"I asked them over to explain that I was in love and wouldn't be seeing them anymore."

"And this is the way you show your love."

"This was a horrible mistake."

"You mean getting caught."

"Getting caught didn't help things. I suppose you'll see that image of me for a long time."

"Maybe not that long."

"Please, Henry. I know I screwed up. I love you. I will do anything to make it up to you."

"How are you going to make it up to me."

I put my bra on. "I can't make it up to you. I can promise that this will never happen again."

"Should I believe your promise?"

"You have no reason to believe me. I hope you want to believe me." I pulled my skirt on.

"This is a lot to take in."

I put my blouse on. "I love you, Henry. I want to be with you all the time. I didn't want to do this, although I clearly didn't fight enough to stop it."

"I don't know, Nia." Henry sounded sincere. "I can't be with you 24/7. If I'm not with you, should I be worried about what you're doing, and who you're doing it with?"

"Please, Henry," I pleaded. "Just tell me that I didn't completely destroy our relationship." I finished buttoning my blouse.

"I'm not sure," he told me. "Like I said, this is a lot to take in. You hurt me. I don't know if we can go back to the way we were."

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I could say that I don't know what I was thinking. But I know, I just wasn't thinking. If I had been thinking, I wouldn't have done anything to put our relationship at risk."

"Nia, when I saw you with those guys in your bedroom, you seemed to be having a great time."

"Henry, I was," I admitted. "But that's not who I am. I don't think I'm a total slut. I have to admit I was acting like a slut."

"Nia, I trusted you with my love. Maybe, it was my mistake."

"Please don't say that. This is all on me. I can't even really blame Felipe and Roger. I behaved like a bitch in heat. It's certainly not your fault. You have been perfect. I screwed up very badly. If you decide to dump me, I can only blame myself. I deserve to be dumped. The only thing is that I love you and I want you even if I don't deserve you."

"Nia, you are the way you are. That's why I fell in love with you. But this last little episode really hurt. I'm not sure why. I knew you had had sex with these guys before. I think I'm just going to need some time to work things out."

"Henry, I behaved very badly. I can't take it back. I hope I didn't hurt you so badly that you can't even look at me. I know you're not looking at me the way you used to. I should have written them letters, then none of this would have happened. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I'm even sorrier for the damage I've done to our relationship. We hadn't talked about exclusivity, but I know that was implied when you moved in. I called them over because I thought they deserved to hear from me in person that we were finished."

I tried to think about how to make him see we had to be together even if I screwed up. I went to my ultimate weapon. I started crying. He put his arm around me. At least, he could still touch me.

I started up again, "I'm so sorry, Henry. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. I thought we might hug, I have been intimate with both of them for several months, but I don't even want them anymore. I acted like a slut, but I don't think I am one. I just want you. Please don't dump me. I'm a good person, in spite of my bad behavior today. Think about what we had and if it's worth the effort to try to repair the damage I've done."

"I still think I need some time to work things out."

"I know I don't deserve a hug, but I would sure like one."

"I guess I can give you a hug."

He hugged me. It felt good. Not exactly like before, but still good.

"I love you, Henry. I'm so sorry for what I did."

"I'm going to take some things and stay with a friend for a day or two until I figure things out."

After he packed his bag, I walked him to the door and squeezed his hand. "Goodbye, Henry."

"Bye, Nia."

I drank some wine and cried myself to sleep. Things were so good and then they went so bad.

The next day I knew I needed to give him space, but I also knew how much I wanted to hear his voice, and hope for any assurance that our love was not over. Finally, I couldn't hold off any longer.

"Henry, I just wanted to hear your voice. Are you doing okay?"

"Not really. I miss you, but I'm also angry with you."

"I understand. I'm just glad that you'll talk to me after what I did."

"Some of the feelings I'm having to deal with are due to surprise."

"I know, Henry. It's all on me. There was no reason for this to have happened."

"I just need a little more time to get my head straight."

"If there's anything I can do, just call me, okay?" I hoped he would, but I knew I would have to call him.

"Okay. Goodbye for now."

"I love you." It was the best I could do.

Another day of waiting. I heard a key in the door. As the door opened, I ran to Henry and jumped on him. He was back! Except that he really wasn't.

"Nia, I just came back to get some more clothes. I'm still working through things."

"I'm sorry, Henry. I just wanted you to be back so much. I shouldn't have jumped you."

"It's okay. It doesn't hurt your case to remind me of how you feel and smell."

In spite of my misunderstanding, it did seem that he was a little more positive than the last couple of days, I was hoping I was not being too optimistic.

Henry

I ended up spending the night at Nia's for the next two weeks. I asked her about living together. She agreed, and I moved my stuff to her place. I put most of my furniture in storage. We were living together for almost a week, when I got off work early on a Friday and hurried home so that we could plan something special for Friday night.

When I entered the apartment, I saw Nia's clothes scattered around the sofa. I knew this was unusual but had no premonition of what I would see when I opened the bedroom door. Nia was being banged from the rear by a tall African guy, while a Hispanic guy was kissing her and holding her tits. She seemed to be enjoying herself until she noticed me gawking at the door.

"Don't go, Henry," she called out, and resumed kissing the Hispanic guy. I closed the door. I guess that meant she wanted me to wait until she was finished with the two guys. I moved her blouse and bra from the sofa to the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. I could hear her cries of passion through the bedroom door. I began to think that I should leave and come back when there had been enough time for them to finish. I was devastated. I didn't know what to think. I loved her, and here she was in the middle of a threesome that I had not been invited to. Were these her fuckbuddies that she had been fucking all along while I was falling in love with her. Should I just leave and never come back except to pick up my clothes that were in her closet. At least I hadn't sold my furniture, so I could move into a new unfurnished apartment. All my dreams of a life with Nia shattered.

Although it seemed longer, I guess it was less than fifteen minutes until a nude Nia appeared with cum running down her legs. She admitted that she had screwed up. I started to leave, but she wanted me to hear all the extenuating circumstances, so I decided I would at least hear what she had to say for herself. While we talked, she dressed. She admitted that it wasn't rape, and that she had been enjoying it before she saw me at her bedroom door. At least she wasn't lying about it. She told me she loved me, that this would never happen again, and it was all a big mistake. She admitted that the big mistake was hers alone. I asked her if that was how she showed her love. She said it was a big mistake and would never happen again. I asked how I could believe that. She admitted that the only way I could believe her was if I wanted to. I pointed out that I had trusted her and that she had hurt me very badly.

She admitted that all she could do was say she was sorry and that it wouldn't happen again. She agreed that it was all her fault, not my fault, not even Felipe and Roger's fault.

The rest of the time was spent with her repeating herself and my maintaining that I needed some time alone to work through all that had happened.

Before I left, she asked for a hug. I hugged her, but it just wasn't the same as it had been before.

This was very difficult for me. She had returned to fucking her fuckbuddies. I had thought that was in the past. I kept going back to what I had seen when I opened her bedroom door - Nia enthusiastically fucking two guys. I didn't even know that when she had mentioned she had fuckbuddies that she was doing two at a time. Still, I have to admit, the good times with Nia were the best times I had ever had. She did seem to want to keep our relationship going. Could I really believe that she wouldn't be having another threesome every time my back was turned? If she was really into threesomes, would I need to participate in the future? I didn't think I really wanted that. If I couldn't have all of Nia, could I settle for part? I'd never been in either kind of threesome; did I really want to start now? In an MMF threesome, did the guys have to be intimate with each other? I didn't even know the answer to that question.

The next day, she called me, claiming that she wanted to hear my voice. I told her I needed more time.

The next day I went by the apartment to pick up some clothes. Nia grabbed me and started kissing me. I guess I should have called and told her that I just wanted to pick up some more clothes. Anyway, she was disappointed that I wasn't coming back yet.

In the end, it came down to just one bad behavior, albeit very bad, against several of the best weeks of my life. We could try to recapture the magic that we had had before. I decided it was worth a try, even though it might not work out. She did explain to me that she had called them both over to tell them that she had found someone special, and that they were through. She also told me that they didn't know until that day that they were both her fuck buddies.

I called her and set up a meeting at a Mexican restaurant that I knew, keep the iced tea flowing.

Nia

The next day Henry called me. "Let's meet somewhere and talk, Nia."

"Anytime, anywhere," I assured him.

We met at a Mexican restaurant and ordered some light snacks.

"Nia, I'm not sure we can ever get back to the way we were."

"I'm sorry, Henry."

"But maybe this is like the honeymoon is over."

"Too soon, but I can live with that."

"Even if it's not 100% the way it was, maybe it can still be very nice."

"I'm willing to try," I assured him.

"Let's do it then!"

"Does that mean we can kiss?"

"Of course, Nia."

I enthusiastically kissed him. He seemed a little reluctant at first, but then he relaxed and kissed me back. I was hopeful that time would bring things much closer to the way they were.

He did have some strange questions. Was I into threesomes?

"Henry," I told him, "that was the only threesome in my entire life. When I was raped in East Africa it was generally lineups of six or eight or more guys. The other day was the first time Felipe and Roger knew that I was screwing the other one."

Our relationship seemed to be getting better. It still was not quite as free and easy as it had been before the 'fuckbuddy incident' but it seemed like Henry was beginning to have feelings for me again. I told him there was no hurry, but I wanted to visit my parents, and he could come with me. I admitted they might not think he was the greatest, but if we were together, they might as well start getting used to him. He was a little reluctant but agreed.

We arrived in the afternoon. Our first issue was sleeping arrangements. My parents wanted me to sleep in my old room, and for Henry to sleep in the guest room. I explained to them that we had been sleeping together for months, and if that was unacceptable, we could go to a motel. They relented and let us sleep in the guest room, which was more isolated than my old room. After dinner, I sent Henry to the showers and met with my parents for the evaluation.

"Not only is he not a good Muslim, but he's also not a Muslim at all!" was my father's opinion.

"Your children will only be half African," my mother informed me. "They won't be fully Anglo, and they won't be fully African. They won't fit in anywhere!"

My rejoinder was, "He may not be African, and he may be a non-Muslim, but he's a good man, anyway, and I love him."

I didn't have to say, 'and that's that', but because my parents knew me well, that was the end of the conversation. I hoped they would feel better about Henry before the weekend was over.

That night Henry seemed to have his old mojo back. We even had pre-breakfast sex. My mother kept looking at me at breakfast as though she knew what I had been doing only a few minutes before. After breakfast, we had a long walk and also, a long talk.

"Nia, I'm starting to get the old feeling back."

"I'm so glad, Henry. I've never stopped loving you, and I never want to."

"I'm sorry I've been so stuffy about what happened, Nia, but it was just how I felt."

"Henry, I don't think you would ever do me like I did you, but if you ever did, I'm sure I would have reacted at least as strongly as you did. I would have probably yelled a lot more than you did."

"I never raised my voice to you, did I?" he asked.

"No, you didn't. Henry, I love you so much. I'm not sure if I could have stood it if you had dumped me."

"I don't think it came close to that; I just had to resolve the hurt and the shock and get the trust back.

It sounded like we were on track, not back to where we were, but at least moving in the right direction. Now if I could just get my stupid parents into line, everything would be okay.

My mother called me aside when we got back from our walk, "Nia, I saw the light in your eyes at breakfast, and I saw the way you looked at him when you were walking, and how he looked at you. Grab him while you can! And don't worry about your father; he sometimes thinks that Islam is the only thing. We women know better, but sometimes we must remind our men."

I knew there were still several hurdles to face: Our relationship still wasn't quite back to the way it was; Henry didn't know yet that we were getting married; and Henry's parents hadn't met me yet.

Sunday after lunch, we said our goodbyes. My mother surprised Henry by hugging him, and my father was almost jovial, shaking Henry's hand, and telling him that it was a real pleasure meeting him. Thank you, mother!

On the way back to the city, I told Henry, "You know my parents were looking at you as a potential son-in-law."

"Really?" Henry seemed surprised, "Doesn't matter, I don't think I'm ready for that, but I still see it as a future possibility."

"I know we're not there yet, but I'm happy with the way things seem to be going," I told him. "In spite of my indiscretion, I love you more than words can say."

A few weeks later, came the trip that I had not been looking forward to; it was time to spend a weekend with Henry's parents.

When we entered his parents' home, and I saw their ill-concealed initial reaction to me, I intuited that Henry had not told them I had a darker skin hue than he.

They said the right things, but I could tell they were uncomfortable with my presence. The conversation at dinner was stilted. It was as much what they didn't say as what they did say. It was clear that they considered me to be from a different socioeconomic stratum as well as a different educational level. I tried to be polite, but always give them a little more than they asked for. After dinner, Henry apologized for his parents, "They're good people, but it'll take them a little while to realize that you're a good person, too. I have to go get the initial readout now."

"I can save you the time, Henry," I told him, "Too black, too tall, too stupid, too big in the bust and butt."

"You might be right," he agreed, "but at least I'll get a chance to rebut, if I hear it from the horse's mouth. Besides, I like all those things. Sometimes I wish you weren't quite so smart."

Henry

We decided to stay together after the unfortunate incident and give me some time to get over my hurt.

We visited Nia's parents and after an uncomfortable start, things seemed to turn out okay.

If it was uncomfortable with Nia's parents, it was very uncomfortable with my parents. I expected some reaction but was disappointed that she got the stiff upper lip treatment from both my parents. After dinner, I went to my father's den for the after-action report.

My mother started, "What are you thinking? Do you want to ruin your life? This country is not ready for interracial marriage."

"Mom, I've conducted extensive testing; I can assure you that she's 100% a member of the human race. Besides, this is the twenty-first century; times are changing."

My father stepped in, "Your mother is referring to her skin color; it may be the twenty-first century, but many businesses aren't ready for mixed color marriages."

"You're probably right, in general, but in technical fields like mine, people don't care if your spouse is blue or green; they only care if you can do the job; if you can, you're golden - if you can't, your spouse can be white as driven snow, and it won't help at all."

"But why?" my mother wasn't giving up. "Couldn't you find a white girl?"

"You may not have noticed, but she is beautiful. She is making big bucks as a model. Besides that, she is intelligent, and just plain fun to be around. Take the time to look beyond her black face and you may start thinking she is as wonderful as I think she is."

"Don't be impertinent," my father responded, "Your mother and I are just looking out for your best interests."

"She is by far the best I have ever found. She is better than all the white girls I have dated. Have you noticed how beautiful she is? If we had children, they would be beautiful, even though possibly not as white as you would like."

"I'll try to talk to her some more," my mother conceded.

"You need to listen to your parents once in a while," was my father's final remark.

I could tell that Nia was a little tense when we made love, it was still very good and she had no trouble orgasming, but she wasn't quite as relaxed as usual.

Saturday morning at breakfast, my mother tried to talk to her. "Henry tells us you are a model. What is that like?"

"First, I am too fat for high fashion modeling, which is where the big bucks are; so mostly I do lingerie and swimsuit modeling," Nia told her.

"When she says fat, she means sexy," I added.

"Henry!" My mother and Nia spoke at the same time.

They looked at each other and my mother smiled at Nia for the first time. Nia was always smiling, so her smile didn't count, but my mother has always been quite parsimonious with both her money and her smiles. Nia and my mom began chatting away about the idiosyncrasies of men, like two hens who had just found a nest of worms. This was a good sign.

When Nia was taking her shower, I spoke to my parents again. "Don't you think she's wonderful?" I asked.

My mother replied, "She's not as bad as I thought. In a lot of ways, she's like us."

My father interjected, ""I'm sure she's wonderful, but she's still black!"

It's hard to sell your girlfriend to your parents when you're not completely sure if you really want her. It's just too much pain. I continued to have flashbacks of Nia with her two fuckbuddies, but when I defended her to my parents, I knew that I wanted her anyway. I didn't like to think that way about it, but the incident with the fuckbuddies was both exciting and heartbreaking. Making a maximum effort with my parents, I began to resolve my own feelings. Was she going to be with other men again? If she was, could I deal with it? Did I want her enough to go through this trauma again. I still had questions about Nia and her lovers, and yet I knew I wanted to be with her, morning, noon, and night.

When I returned to the guest room, she was seated at the dressing table looking in the mirror as she brushed her shoulder-length black hair.

She looked around at me and read my face. "Didn't go so well with the parents? Am I just too difficult for you, Henry?"

"No," I replied, "Mom's coming around. She'll help with Dad."

"And what about us?"

"I'm still having trouble getting you with your fuckbuddies out of my mind."

"I don't know what to tell you. I screwed up. I wish I hadn't, but I can't undo the past."

"I know," I replied, "I guess I'm just being difficult."

"Not really," she told me, "You'd never do me like I did you, but I'd probably take it even harder if you did."

"It hurt me," I replied. "But maybe I just have to realize that you're a sexy woman."

"When does sexy become bad?"

"I have to admit, you looked good with your buddies. But I guess the surprise and hurt exceeded the sexiness."

"I thought we had something good, but then I screwed up."

"I don't know. I think you're so good and yet you're bad, also."

"If I'm a bad girl, then, at least, I can be your bad girl."

"It was exciting. Maybe having a bad girl is not all that bad."

"Henry, you have to trust that even if I wanted to screw someone, I couldn't do it after seeing how much I hurt you this time."

"Sometimes, we just have to recognize what a person is like. Maybe I have to accept that once in a while your hormones are going to rule."

"You shouldn't have to do that. I think I have better self-control than that."

"Can you say that?"

"If I can't at least say it then I probably don't deserve you."

"Maybe I don't have to believe you'll never stray again; I just have to believe you'll try your best."

"I can certainly promise that."

"I want things to be the way they were, too, Nia."

"Henry, I've told you this before, but I love you more than I have words for."

"Nia, I love you more than I can say, in spite of you being the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

She embraced me and kissed me hard. I kissed her back. "Make sure the door is locked, Henry!"

I knew what was coming, and she did not disappoint me. The sex was as good as it had ever been for us.

After we made love again in the morning, Nia told me, "You still love me, so you have to forgive me."

"I do love you, Nia, and when you're right, you're right!" I admitted. "I forgive you."

At breakfast, we had a hard time eating, because we just wanted to touch each other.

After breakfast, I was called into my father's den again. Mom came along. My father spoke, "I'm still not sure it's the best thing, but I'm not the person to stand between two lovers. We're both on board with Nia. My mom smiled her acquiescence.

We had a June marriage and surprisingly enough, my parents got along well with hers. Soon Nia was modeling pregnant mother fashions, and by the time she dropped our fourth child, all four grandparents were completely on board with our marriage and their grandchildren. Both the boys and the girls were beautiful children. Nia continued modeling while the children were in school and mothering when they weren't. She was an excellent mom, and like a fine wine, her lovemaking improved with age. She doesn't do it so often now, but I love it when she puts her Taraji on, and even more when she takes it off.