A few years into our marriage, we were watching “The Godfather” on cable and Pam confided in me that her father had once threatened to go to the mob to arrange a hit. I was more than a little surprised because her father seemed to be a pillar of the community, a well-to-do, white, upper middle class, church-going, mid-westerner. I asked, “He must have really been upset about something. What would get him so desperate?”

“My sister, Katrina! What else? She had just quit high school, one month short of graduating and had an argument with my mom. She ran away and we hadn’t heard from her for a couple of weeks. Mom and I had kept tabs on what she was doing through our network of friends. She had been bouncing around staying at one or another of her girlfriends’ parents’ houses and within 10 days she was working at a fast-food restaurant near downtown and sharing a flat with a co-worker. Everything was fine for a couple of days, until one evening when my dad went over to see if he could talk her into coming home to finish high school. He came home fuming mad. I was upstairs in my room studying and heard him ranting at my mom that his daughter was a slut. I went to the top of the stairs to hear because I was afraid he might have found out that I was in love with a guy and had been necking and petting with him, but just then he told mom that he had walked up to Katrina’s place and when no one answered the doorbell he went to the window and saw her naked on the couch with a black guy on top of her. He was screaming at mom that he knew some people and would have that bastard killed.”

“Wow!” I was flabbergasted. “Did he actually have the guy killed?”

“No! Mom calmed him down. She made him sit down and they had a few stiff drinks and saner heads prevailed. My mom and I went to the restaurant the next day and she made my sister an offer she wouldn’t refuse. Katrina had run away because my mom wouldn’t give her the money to go to San Francisco to live and do the hippie thing. Mom simply told her she would give her the money and arrange the trip for the following week. All Katrina needed to do was come with her right then. To no one’s surprise the three of us left the restaurant a big happy family and as usual Katrina got what she wanted.”

“You mean that she concocted the whole scene to get your parents to foot the bill for her to become part of the Haight-Ashbury sub-culture?” I asked in a somewhat envious tone.

“Not really!” Pam answered. “She and I had a girl-to-girl talk when we got home and I asked her if she had planned the whole thing. She said not the whole thing and that she was surprised that it had taken so long for mom to give in. That’s when I asked her directly if she had set-up the black guy and used him too. She seemed oblivious to my dad’s being there the night before and asked me what I meant by that. That’s when I told her about what dad had seen and what he told mom about having the guy shot. She started to cry because she was upset that she had caused so much trouble. I asked her if she was in love with the guy and she said not really but he really was good in bed. The next day she told me that they just used each other for sex and that neither of them wanted anything more than that. I was a little giddy and asked her if it was true that once you’ve had black you never go back. She smiled back that it was great but she didn’t care what color it was as long as it was big and the guy knew how to please her. She did say that black would definitely be part of the palate from now on.”

I teased her, “So, you were intrigued by your sister’s black lover. Did you fantasize about trying it yourself?”

She responded with dreamy look in her eyes, “Actually, I had vivid dreams and daydreams about the star end on our football team. A few of the cheerleaders had let it be known that he was a foot long and as wide as a soda can. I used to imagine what that would feel like. Once I even tried to use a soda can on myself, but I was too small and I was afraid to force it in. I ended up rubbing myself until I came. After seeing how my dad had reacted to Katrina, I was afraid to even look at a black guy.”

I saw the dreamy look in her eyes and asked, “It sounds like you really wanted to try a black guy. Did you ever have sex with a black man?”

Her response seemed evasive, “I think that I might have!”

I was both irritated and puzzled. “What do you mean by ‘I think I might have.’ Either you have or you haven’t.”

“It’s not that easy.” She said. “There was one night that I was very stoned and I woke up in the morning with a black guy, actually it was two black guys. I really don’t remember all of it.”

“Will you tell me what you do remember about it?” I asked.

“It’s complicated.” she started, “I was taking a break from writing my dissertation in the summer of – ur, I think it was 1980. A group of friends was going hiking in Glacier Park and about a week before they were scheduled to leave, I decided to tag along with them. At that late a date, I couldn’t take the same train that they did but rather got a train about 4 hours later and we agreed to meet at a certain campsite about a two hours hike from the Park’s train station. My train was actually on time and I gathered up my back-pack and stuff and started up the trail. It was about 2 o’clock and the afternoon heat was oppressive. By 3:30 I was tired and really soaked with sweat. I stopped hiking and noticed beautiful mountain stream about 500 feet off the trail on my left. I couldn’t resist the temptation to cool off in the water, so I hiked down to the stream, looked around and seeing no one took off my clothes and went skinny-dipping. It was sweltering and the cold water was exhilerating. I swam to the middle of the stream and floated on my back. It was then that I heard a wolf whistle from the stream bank. I looked over and there were two black guys who had been fly-fishing ogling me in the water. They were on the opposite bank from my stuff so I felt safe.  I tried to be as nonchalant as possible and swam back to my backpack slowly stepped out of the water, slowly put my sweaty clothes back on and I started back up the trail. About ten minutes later I heard voices approaching me from behind me on the trail.

“‘Hey bathing beauty is that you?’ one of them called up to me playfully but I started to walk a little faster recognizing that this was not a good scene and getting a little scared.  All I had to do was to get to the campsite a few minutes down the path and I would be safe with my friends.  A few minutes later I met a couple walking toward me on the path and asked how far to the campsite. They said it was right around the bend. I was relieved and literally ran the rest of the way.”

“That sounds like a close-call,” I interrupted.

“It turned out that I wasn’t in any real danger,” she volunteered.

“What do you mean? A woman alone in the wilderness being pursued by two guys sounds dangerous to me.” I piped in.

“The two fishermen were just walking back to their campsite which was a couple of yards down from ours.  I met them as they walked by ours when they saw me and whistled at me again. My friends had met them earlier and their names were Rob and Al. They had invited us all over to share their catch for dinner where they teased me about my skinny-dipping and my friends joined in. After dinner we all sat around and smoked for awhile and got high. Several of us got up to go to the port-a –john on the other side of the campsite. The area next to the johns had a great view of a mountain lake and the sun setting over it and two of the guys and I stayed to watch for a few minutes.

“I was more than a little turned on from the day’s events and the romantic setting, so when Lance, one of my friends put his arm around my waist, I moved even closer to him, turned toward him and looked up into his eyes longingly. We shared a long sexy kiss. While we were doing this, Al came up behind me and put his arms around me and starting to kiss my neck and nuzzle my ears. You know how that melts me. We slowly moved away from the public viewing area to a more hidden spot, where Al reached around to my front and slid his hands under my halter top and over my breasts, all of the while Lance and I continued to kiss. A few seconds later I felt Lance’s hand slide down my belly and down the front of my shorts. I had never had two men caressing me at the same time and it was incredibly exciting.”

Again I interrupted, “Weren’t you afraid of being caught or seen by the others in your group?”

“They were the last thing on my mind. I was too high to even think about anything but the moment.” She answered.

 “Well Lance and Al played me like a violin. I was putty in their hands and we ended up back in Al’s tent. The next morning I remember my friend Cam whispering to me that she saw the three of us walking down the path stopping every few feet to kiss and grope each other. She said my halter top was undone at the back and my shorts were open and that Al and Lance were taking turns putting their hands on my breasts and pussy. I asked her who else had seen us and she said she thought everyone else was too stoned to remember anything.”

“What happened in the tent?” I asked.

“I was pretty stoned so I don’t think I remember all of it. I get a little sketchy. I do remember I had quite a few orgasms and waking up the next morning feeling sperm leaking out of my vagina, smelling my pussy odor, and tasting spunk. I think I had sex with both of them.  I remember that Al had a big cock but I can’t remember if he was fucking me or if I was sucking it or both. I am fairly sure that Al did spend a lot of time kissing my breasts and belly and pubic mound and even my clitoris. I seem to remember that he made me cum by continually sticking his tongue slowly in and out of my pussy and along the lips and up to my clitoris where he would barely lick it. At least I guess it was Al.”

“What do you mean I guess it was Al? Were there others in the tent? Did you pull a train? How big was the tent anyway?” I asked.

“At some point I think I remember hearing other voices. I honestly don’t remember all of it,” she responded trying to soothe me. “I was young and my sex drive was out of control at the time. I do remember waking up naked in Al’s tent early the next morning and Lance was gone and I was lying between Al and Rob facing Al. Rob had a hard on in his sleep and it was poking between my legs. From the feel of it, it must have been 9 or 10 inches long and very thick, bigger than Al or Lance. From the way my vagina felt I think it might have been inside of me at some point, but then again Al and Lance were pretty well-endowed too.

“I looked around and peered out of the tent and saw that the sun was just coming up and no one was up yet, so I found my shorts and halter top, put them on, ran quickly back to my tent, slipped into my sleeping bag because I felt cold having been naked in Al’s tent during the cool mountain night.”

“Wow! You really can’t remember much about that night. Can you?”

“Like I said, everything else is kind of hot sexy blur. I know I had a great time but the details are mixed up and kind of like a stream of consciousness. Some things come back in vivid detail but I can’t be sure if they really happened or if I just imagine they happened.”

A few months later, I was finishing remodeling her home office. In order to move the big file cabinet, I had to take out the drawers. In the bottom drawer were several video and audio tapes, some old photos, and several old love letters. I couldn’t help but read them. Some of the letters were from Lance. One seemed to give a little different slant on the night. But that’s another story.