Chapter 20
In her fevered world she dreamed. Even her dreams were worlds of confusion. The pin-wheel of kaleidoscopic events darted in a frenzied maze of colors and distortions. Then she remembered the time and the place it happened. How could she ever forget that event? It was such a symmetrical experience. And he was such a symmetrical guy. She had come to his apartment with him directly from the beach. They dropped sand over the floor.
She had met him that afternoon and they had talked. He was built big and his muscles bulged everywhere. She had regarded him for a time-as she had seen him reading a book and wiggling his toes in the sand. She had planned the moment to attract his attention and now she wanted him to love her. Beside the sofa she noticed back copies of nude magazines on the table-all bosoms and revealing buttocks and jutting breasts. She felt herself unconsciously. There were no firmer nor bigger than hers. Her lips curled and she thought he would like her breasts.
He came back from the kitchen with a few cans of beer and some pretzels.
"How about a beer?" he asked.
She stared up at his incredible body and handsome face. She reached for the beer and he sat beside her. "I feel right at home," she told him.
His teeth were white when he laughed.
"Just swell-" he said. "Would you like to take a nice relaxing shower?" he asked her happily.
"Here?" she asked, her eyes blazing with surprise.
"Sure-here-where do you think I live-in the swamps without plumbing?"
She was enormously embarrassed. "It's just-that-well...!" she stammered.
He stood up, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"Follow me," he said softly. "I'll get the towels and if you ask me real kind like I'll even lather you down."
She gulped her beer. He was just right. She didn't have to push too hard. He was getting the message. He was wearing a tee shirt over his trunks and she gaped at his powerful thighs and wondered how soon they would be wrapping themselves about her. She felt a strong heat in her loins as she stood up.
"Are you a good masseur?" she asked, as she followed to the bathroom.
He opened the door of the bathroom and turned to her. "Get undressed. I'll show you all my talents," he said.
Her nerves bobbed madly in her body. "What about you-won't you get wet with your clothes on?" she asked.
He was pulling his tee shirt over his head. He stopped to stare at her with a wicked smile.
"I'm going to get wet with my clothes off."
She stared at his hairy, incredible chest.
She moved her head and smiled at him wisely. "For this time-please let me get undressed in there and you can do it out here," she begged. "Knock when you're ready to join me."
She liked the way he stretched his lips into a titillating smile. "Fine. I'll be ready in a jiffy."
Discreetly she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She was getting more hot and bothered by the second and she couldn't wait to get her clothes off. She knew what to expect and she swallowed a great lump in her throat.
Her clothes were at her feet and she observed her pretty form in the large mirror behind the door. She wondered how he would begin his heated passions with her and she heard the noise of children playing in the street below. She moved the shade down and began to adjust the water. Then she heard the knock and she turned toward the door.
"Come in," she called.
She heard her heart beat when he walked in and she tried to assume an emotional surprise. When she levelled her darting eyes at his nakedness she knew she wanted him to consume her at that very moment. She started gaping at him.
"Do you like what you see?" he asked.
She blushed. "Yes-yes, I do, very much," she stammered.
He patted her shoulder. "I'm for you as soon as you shower with me. Come on, let's get into the tub."
With the water cascading down upon both of them she floundered a moment and then blurted, "I liked you the moment I saw you on the beach."
She noticed his eyes drinking in the lower part of her body and she turned slightly away, too aroused to even smile or wonder.
With huge bathroom towels around them they piled into the bed. Suddenly she was yanked down and his hands were in her hair. Then she was submerged in the most torrid kiss she had felt in a long while. The towels fell onto the bed. They were both naked. She reached toward him with an aching delight and her mouth bonded itself to his. The feel of his ponderous frame was thunderously exciting to her and she lay back and held out her arms toward him.
She tingled with violent anticipation as he moved toward her. His hands cupped her breasts and then dropped to the small of her back as he crushed her fiercely to himself. Now she could not hold back any longer as the ultimate maleness of him thrust wildly at her. She felt a rush of him within her and it had never felt this way before. The sensations were so different-even the ultimate fusion of quivering orgasms as she erupted in sudden stabs.
Then she demanded more of him-deliberately, selfishly. He began to please her once more. She shuddered as he pressed within her and then there came the second pouring as she trembled and gasped and held dearly on to him. What was there about him that was so virile and impressive? Or was it her extreme eagerness to have sex with this man. All day she had felt strange stirrings and now he was hers. She wanted to be adequate for him ... she wanted that above all. Every inch of her being was on fire, consuming her until she cried out again and again as she felt the pleasures of his outrage upon her.
She smelled his body and felt a close connection to him. He moved frenziedly along with her in pulsating rhythm and she heard him gasp as she felt his flowing within her. Then he was hurting her and she tried to get on her elbow.
"Please-no more for a while-I'm pooped," she begged.
He slammed her head back on the bed. "Not yet, baby," he growled.
A strange look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. She hadn't seen that look before.
Now she was frightened. "Don't hurt me, please," she cried.
Now his voice was anger mingled with flaming passion. He uttered an animal, throaty roar as he sunk himself deeper within her. She closed her eyes, sinking in painful darkness while he pounded her flesh until she couldn't stand it any longer.
She felt once more his pouring-so familiar, so grateful because his sensation was ebbing. She tried to recoil from him, but he was still interminably engrossed within her, searingly, in a rhymical beat she knew so well until her own searing agony was joined with his pleasure, so that now they were both one and the same again.
When he disengaged himself and went to the bathroom, she was limp and sated. She had given him what he wanted. He came back grinning.
"How was that?" he asked, beaming.
She regarded his fleshy mountain incredously. He was panting like a tired dog. She pulled the covers over herself. He flopped beside her biting the air in huge gulps, then he winked at her.
"You didn't answer my question," he insisted.
She continued to stare at him, stunned with complete release. He suddenly reminded her of a man who had finished a day's work-well done and awaiting compliments.
My God, she thought, did he always club a woman this way, would it always be like this?
"I think you know what a woman needs," she told him.
He sat up in the bed. "How long will that hold you, baby?" he asked.
"Until next time," she said weakly.
She got up from the bed and started dressing.
"Why are you leaving so soon?" he wanted to know.
She dressed quickly. When she stepped into her shoes she stared down at him. "When is our next date?" she asked.
She didn't mean it-not really.
"Here is my number." She handed him a card. "Call me when you think of it," she said. It was not her card. It belonged to a friend of hers who had moved to another state.
She squeezed softly past him and shut the door behind her. She ran from the house as quickly as she could and took a cab to her apartment. In the cab she remembered how good she felt physically-how smooth everything had gone until that look of wildness in his eyes and the rough handling that followed. He knew how to milk a woman, she recalled, but she liked a man with more finesse.
The dreams followed like hornets as she remembered others.
He was a handsome colored repairman, young and strong. He had completed repairing the upholstery on her sofa. She had taken a day off from work so that she would be home when he came. She felt a race-a color apart. His good strong looks were like strength from a past she wanted to understand. If she had a guarantee, she would offer herself willingly. She had gone about the apartment all day with a robe on and now as she was paying him, she noticed the wild gleam in his eyes as her robe fell apart. She knew a good portion of her thighs were exposed. She didn't bother covering herself. She wanted to see his reaction. She saw his face develop into a smile.
He pocketed the money, never taking his eyes from her.
"Is anything wrong?" she pretended.
He dipped his head solemnly. "Madam, you're all exposed there. Better cover up," she heard him whisper in a deep breath.
She stared at him-her eyes trying to tell him something. She wanted to end the pretension. She felt a surge of warmth flow through her-blinding her for a moment.
She forced a little smile. "Jimmy, what's wrong? Haven't you ever seen a woman undressed before?"
He moved back a step-his eyes fixed like daggers on her thighs.
"Sure man," he said softly, "but never a white woman ... never!"
There was five feet of space beside her and the sofa. She opened the tassle of her robe and spread it wide for him to see. "Then take a real good look, Jimmy," she said. "Would you like to-?"
Suddenly it was too much for him. He closed in on her fast. His hand shot out like lightning and tore the robe from her body. When he pushed her hard upon the rug she moved back willingly-his handsome black features now above her face. She closed her eyes as he disrobed rapidly but when she peeked there was too much that was so manly and strong about him so that she did not close her eyes again. In a moment he was on his knees above her and she parted herself for him-dazedly and delirous with a fever of passion. He looked even better naked than with clothes on-a black, shiny God from Africa.
She felt her body tauten-firm up entirely as she wanted to cry out for him to hurry. Suddenly she groaned and she was conscious of her feeble groan, and now she was beyond restraint. She heard him whimper above her as his desire swelled. She could feel her nipples swell into tiny fists as he massaged them briskly. She soon felt his large, muscular hands upon her flanks. Her agressiveness began to soar with his. She had never done it with a black man before. What was the difference? She had heard that they were virile, powerful lovers-and she decided to let what will happen.
She felt his movements upon her and she wondered why he had not even kissed her-but suddenly she felt deep stirrings ... and a huge, boiling pain was everywhere, fanning out across her entire body as his hands played across her skin. Her passions were bursting in exploding galaxies and she wanted to scream-to howl foolishly. Then the thing she wanted most happened. His maleness between her legs was gradually entering her and she forced her body toward him to encompass him completely. His filling of her warm body was complete-incessant-and suddenly all her pains were anesthetized. When his motions began she felt shocked back to life and in the area of his invasion she felt maddening, helpless ecstasy. Now she was glad, happy, she had taunted him into this. She might have missed this episode entirely if she had not been a little aggressive.
When she shook spasmodically into erupting orgasm he understood and let her lay back for a moment, watching her gasp, a little afraid he had been too much for her. He knew that he had speared and captured a white woman for the first time in his life and a smiling twinkle lit his face.
For many days she remembered this union. Society would say she had given herself to a barbarian. But not him-God, no-his primitive loving had mattered for days and nothing she did could dilute its stinging recollections. The world was full of words, hates, prejudices, chalk lines. But she was glad she had made the marvelous crossing. And for days she was sorry for all black men and for white women who didn't know what they were missing. A shaft of heavenly passion had consumed her, and set her life apart, aside from the feeble mortals who would never know this utter dimension of pure release.
It would grieve her that she could not impart the wonderful message to everyone she knew. But that didn't matter. She had embraced him-even possessed him-and now she was full with the happy memory. She would try never to let it escape. For days she considered herself a total woman-an exact woman, smelling better and moving more sure-footedly ... still thick with the trace.
In time the man from Mississippi might completely fade and she would slip back into the white man's swamp she knew. But the memory fastened and she began seeking out black men. She had learned to live a new life but she would have to hide the true shade of her preference.
And now the dreams and the snowy fields and the yawning chasms in the full moon where the ditches were dftgp and the earth around her was black, black, everywhere.