Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Nigger Next Door by Perry Jones Copyright (C) 2012 by Perry Jones







   Chapter 1



   Springdale was like any other medium-sized community anywhere in the
United States.  It had a Main Street, a Central Park, and a Memorial
Cemetery.  It had a John F.  Kennedy high school, a Martin Luther King
boulevard, and a Harry S.  Truman municipal library.  The older section of
town contained well-constructed houses with large porches, and huge oaks
spanning the front yards.  Each older home was meant to last for a century,
or at least, several generations.  The newer section of town was
overdeveloped by chintzy contractors who built pre-fab units made of
el-cheapo plywood and plasterboard, meant to last only as long as the
mortgage.



   On the whole, Springdale was like Anywhere, USA.



   When Fred and Donna moved into town they thought that they had found the
ideal place in which to live.  They had recently moved from a small town in
the Deep South and were looking forward to making a go of it in a new
section of the country.  They were a very attractive couple.  They looked
like the Homecoming King and Queen of the local high school.  They were
both in their late twenties.  Both were in robust health.  They had perfect
weight, perfect blood pressure, and no problems with high cholesterol When
friends asked how they maintained their tip-top shape, they would always
answer, "We eat the right foods, get plenty fresh air, and walk the
straight and narrow path."



   If nothing else, it was a good line.



   Fred stood about five feet eight, as did Donna.  When they walked down
the street together people often thought that they were related simply
because their heights were so similar.  They had met in their sophomore
year of high school in their small Southern town and had been together ever
since.



   He had been attracted to her outgoing personality, whereas she had been
attracted to his gentlemanly manners.  In an age when most males had
forgotten how to hold a door open for a woman, Fred was always there to act
chivalrous, be courteous, or say the proper thing at the proper moment.  He
was the last of a dying breed: the Southern Gentleman.



   Donna was very pretty.  She had the face of an All- American Girl. 
Perfect mouth, teeth, and nose.  No need for orthodontic work or
rhinoplasty - ever.  She had bright blue eyes, buoyant brown hair, and a
fair complexion which tanned easily.



   She was trim - not petite - and stood as straight as an arrow.  She was
in remarkably good physical shape, which came from exercising regularly and
eating properly.  From all of her exercises she had developed a wasp-like
waist with a firm little tummy.  Fred frequently teased her that he could
encircle her waist with his large hands and touch his fingertips.



   She had an especially pleasing belly-button situated exactly midway
between her pacifier and her satisfier.  Whenever she giggled it would
spasmodically wink in and out as if it had a life of its own.  Its
elongated shape added to her mouthwatering sensuality.



   Donna also had long, shapely legs that seemed to go on forever.  They
were firm all the way from her ankles to her crotch.  Her girlfriends
frequently commented about how attractive they were.  It was no secret that
they longed' to have a pair as lovely.  She kept them sleek and smooth by
bathing and shaving them regularly.  There was nothing she liked better
after a hard day of exercising or jogging than to relax in a hot bath and
massage her calves and thighs.



   Her hips and breasts were curvaceous and symmetrical.  Not too large,
not too small-just right.  She had what could only be described as "perky"
titties.  They were firm, slightly up tilted, and very succulent looking.
They were the kind that men wanted to lick for hours at a time and women
secretly coveted.



   Because she had perfect posture and such a tiny waist she looked
terrific in any piece of clothing.  In fact, she was a knockout-all fit and
trim and bubbling with sexuality.  When she wore a bikini, she could give a
hard-on to a eunuch.  Yet, like so many truly lovely women, she was totally
unaware of her own attractiveness.



   Fred might have been partly to blame for her naiveté because he was the
kind of man who wanted "voluptuous" rather than "pretty".  He never gave
her the kinds of compliments that could build her self-confidence and
self-esteem.  It just wasn't in his nature to say, "My, but you look lovely
today!", or, "You're truly beautiful." His wife could have been a stand-in
for Cheryl Tiggs, whereas he was looking for Rachel Welch.



   Although the average person on the street couldn't see it, Donna also
had one of the prettiest pussies anywhere.  It was oval-shaped and pouted
outward nicely from beneath her firm incurving stomach.  Whenever she was
alone in the bathroom she would admire it for a moment or two in the mirror
before taking a shower or reclining in the tub.



   She liked to wash it carefully with soap and then rinse it gently with
the best hair conditioner available.  She thought nothing of spending
thirty or forty dollars for a bottle.  She found that regular lathering
softened the pubic hair and made it nice to touch.  She had heard that as
women got older their pubic hair became bristly.  Yuck!  She didn't want
that to happen.  Like skin care, a woman needed to be concerned about her
pubic hair at an early age.



   She didn't know why she liked to pet her pussy, she just did.  It
especially felt delicious when she was relaxing in a nice warm bath.  Then
she would spread her thighs as wide as possible, reach down to her little
triangle of fur, and spread the vaginal lips.  She liked to feel the warm
water rush into her vagina, and then rush back out of her innermost
sanctuary whenever she squeezed her thighs together.



   Donna was one of those rare women who took the time to trim away any
unsightly pubic hairs.



   Like most people she had one or two hairs which grew abnormally long-as
if they were on steroids or something.  To correct this she would sit on
the toilet, spread her legs wide apart, and place a handheld mirror between
them.  She would then go to work with her little thinning shears and snip
away those hairs which detracted from an attractive appearance.  She liked
to have a very nice oval coiffure between her thighs-one that was pretty to
look at and fun to stroke.  For some reason, it just seemed like the proper
thing to do.



   One day her friend Jill happened to walk into the bathroom when she was
snipping away.  "What on earth are you doing?" she asked.



   Although somewhat modest, Donna replied without hesitation, "I'm giving
my pussy a trim."



   "Why?"



   "I'm making my pubic region presentable."



   Jill looked at her and exclaimed, "For god's sake, Donna!  It's not
going to be interviewed on 'Meet the Press!"



   "It makes me feel wonderful," Donna replied.  "You ought to try it and
you'll see."



   "Are you sure that wonderful feeling is not due to your stroking it?"
Jill asked with a smile.



   "Now really!  I know the difference between masturbation and a haircut.
I'm sincere when I say that it makes me feel marvelous.  You've got to try
it for my sake.  Please."



   Jill was skeptical, hut when a best friend pleads with you to try
something new it's best to try what she's raving about.  She hoisted her
skirt and lowered her panties.  She took the trimming shears from Donna and
snipped away the unsightly pubic hairs.  "I really can't believe I'm doing
this," she said.



   Donna giggled.  "Just wait till you see the results."



   Several minutes later, Jill was finished.  She held the mirror between
her thighs and looked at her auburn bush.  "My god, Donna!  You're right.
It does make me feel more presentable."



   "See!  I told you."



   "It makes me want to walk down the street without any undies and hold my
skirt above my waist." She turned to Donna and said, "You should open a
pubic hair salon and offer cunt coiffures.  Your slogan could be
'Cunts-R-Us'."



   Donna laughed.  "My business wouldn't catch on until a celebrity paid a
visit or two and spread the word.  I would need someone like Connie Chung
as a client.  She could do wonders for a place like that."



   Jill giggled.  "Yea, I could just see her interrupting her news
broadcast and saying, 'By the way folks, I had my twat trimmed at
Cunts-R-Us today.  Just look at the results.  Aren't they marvelous?'" Jill
and Donna became the closest of friends and were soon exchanging pointers
on how to improve their cutting techniques about the proper lotions,
mousses, and jells to use.  Because of her cunt discussions with Jill,
Donna's curiosity about the genital region increased.  She was starting to
lose her inhibitions about discussing sex, but she still had a long way to
go.



   Whenever Donna walked down the street, men would turn their heads and
stare.  Not because she resembled the proverbial voluptuous centerfold, but
rather because she was everyone's ideal of the All-American girl, sexy
without knowing it; and beautiful, yet naive.  She had all the right
equipment, but none of the brash ego of those who flaunt it.



   Many men who watched her sashay her tight little ass, or bounce her pert
little breasts, also hungered to get her into the sack and fuck the living
daylights out of her.  It was not uncommon for male sales clerks to rub
their crotches after she made a purchase and went on her way.  And it
certainly wasn't out of the ordinary for her to cause a twitching penis
amongst construction workers.



   However, she had never really had the living daylights fucked out of her
because she was married to Fred, one of the most inexperienced-and hence,
lousiest-lovers imaginable.  His problem lay in the fact that he had
married Donna at a very early age.  He never had the experience of sewing
his wild oats in any female other than his wife.  Therefore, he never
gained the experience necessary to fuck like a pro.



   He was in great physical shape and worked continually on developing his
pecs, delts, and biceps.  Unfortunately, he spent very little time
developing his lower back.  This was a tragic oversight because that group
of muscles was related to sexual stamina and endurance.  If a man wanted a
jackhammer dick, he had to have a powerful sacroiliac.



   Somehow Fred had wound up with the prettiest girl in his high school
graduating class, and everyone wondered what he had that was so special.  A
schoolmate of his once made the comment, "Either he has a dick the size of
a horse, or he hypnotized that pretty little babe into marrying him."



   No one could imagine Fred ever opening a book, so that ruled out the
possibility of him being a hypnotist.  Therefore, the rumor spread that he
was hung like stud horse and could screw all night long in a variety of
acrobatic positions.



   Of course, that wasn't true either.  He was no acrobat and had only the
standard six-inch model penis with the regular pecan-size nuts dangling
between his legs.  He had wound up with Donna simply because he was the
first man who happened to ask for her hand in marriage.  That's it!  That's
all!  In this regard, other men could take lessons from him.



   He was also one of the hardest working men around.  Whether it be in the
oil fields, or in one of the numerous chemical plants where he managed to
secure a job, he certainly put in a day's work for a day's wages.  The poor
fellow always came home at night covered with perspiration and worn to a
frazzle.  Many nights he simply plopped down on the couch and fell
asleep-often to the consternation of Donna.  After all, she was a sexually
vibrant woman who wanted more from her man than the sound of snoring on the
pillow next to hers.  And her recent activities with Jill had only
heightened her sexual awareness.



   They were childless, but not because they hadn't been trying.  He made
love to his wife as often as possible- sometimes three or four times a
month.  And she went out of her way to insure conception.  In this regard
she was extremely old-fashioned.  Furthermore, she never took birth control
pills and always assumed the missionary position and spread her lovely legs
only as wide apart as propriety would permit.



   She yearned to try different positions.  Jill had told her of the
wondrous thrills which could be achieved in a doggy-position, or in a
scissors-lock.  And there were all those television shows that talked
endlessly about sex: "Geraldo," "Donahue," and "Oprah." She would love to
be booked on one of those syndicated shows and talk about her coiffured
cunt, but Jill warned her that even Geraldo wasn't ready for that topic.



   Donna wanted to be more assertive and aggressive during sexual
intercourse, but kept her intentions to herself.  After all, in her small
Southern town a girl was raised to believe that the man of the household
knew best about matters of sex, and that a woman shouldn't be too wanton in
the bedroom.



   Well, Fred didn't know diddly squat about sex.  Although he was slightly
older than his wife, sex was just as much a novelty to him as it was to
her. They were virgins when they first got married and both were about as
naive as a couple Thanksgiving Day turkeys being led to slaughter.



   Fred never encouraged Donna to try any different positions.  Primarily
because he didn't know any, but also because he worried that she might
become one of those liberated types of women.  His buddies said that once a
woman got on top during sexual intercourse, she would start thinking that
she was the boss of cock.  Within a matter of days she would take over the
house and start barking orders as if she wore the pants in the household.
Several of Fred's pals swore that they had lost control of their women
because they allowed them to experiment with new positions.



   Well, he wasn't about ready to allow that to happen.  No sir.  He was
the man, and a man's home was his castle.



   That philosophy might have been appropriate forty years ago, but things
had changed radically in society and in the bedroom.  However, it was
becoming increasingly difficult to keep his woman in line.  Donna was
making increasing suggestions of late for a little experimentation.  Things
might have remained on the back burner, or could have been resolved, if
they had remained in their small Southern town.



   But as fate would have it, they moved next door to Pam and Keith.



   To say that Pam was "stacked" would be an understatement.  The woman was
a walking advertisement for sex in every way, shape, and form.  When Fred
first looked over the fence and saw her he couldn't believe that a female
with that much sexuality radiating from her pores actually existed.  She
could have been a brunette model for the cover of an X-rated Sci-Fi comic
book.  Suddenly, all of his old-fashioned small town attitudes about sex
started to wane.  When he saw the sumptuous globes of her glorious ass
pointed in his direction, fantasies that he had never entertained before
started occupying most of his waking moments.  Yea!  She could get on top.
Anytime she wanted.  As many times as she wanted.



   Fred looked at her working in the garden and stood absolutely
motionless. Women as good-looking as her didn't really exist.  No way.  And
her white blouse did nothing to hide her ample breasts nor her large
nipples beneath.  Her tan shorts were so snug that she appeared to have
been poured into them.  He blushed with surprise when he recognized the
cleft of her vagina pressed against the material.  It was clearly
discernible.



   Although Donna was incredibly attractive, she didn't radiate sex the way
that Pam did.  Pam, on the other hand, could have been a centerfold for the
glossiest and dirtiest girlie magazine in existence.  She looked like the
type who wouldn't hesitate to star in a porno flick-and the more fucking
involved, the more she'd probably like it.



   He watched her squat down in front of her petunias.  Her pubis pressed
outward against the crotch of her shorts.  It appeared to be yearning to
burst free.  Indeed, she looked good enough to eat.  He had heard that men
sometimes did that to women, but he had never attempted such a thing during
his marriage to Donna.  For some reason, his wife seemed like too fine of a
woman to do that with, whereas Pam looked sultry, exotic, and Cajun.  Any
woman with a body like that obviously knew a lot more about sex than either
he or Donna.  He just wondered how much? h

   Like Donna she had very long and shapely legs, and a narrow, flat waist.
But her breasts were larger and her ass was fuller-more rounded, more
womanly.  She didn't look like she exercised or jogged to achieve her
physique.  Her figure was either natural, or she fucked a lot to maintain
it.  Genetics had been kind to her.



   She was evenly tanned on her arms, face, and legs, and from what he
could tell her copper tan covered her entire body.  He bet that she was one
of those women who sunbathed in the nude and exposed her titties to the
warming rays of the sun for an overall healthy effect.  He had heard it
rumored that women who exposed their breasts to the sun had especially
tasty nipples.  He wondered.



   Fred could just imagine feasting for hours on those melons of hers. 
They were the size of succulent ripe cantaloupes standing out proud and
firm, whereas Donna's were the size of grapefruit.  There was nothing wrong
with his wife's titties.  In fact, they too were marvels of creation. 
However, like most men he wanted a little variety.  After all, a man may
own a Cadillac, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't like to take a
Corvette for a drive.



   Besides, deep down, Fred had always longed for a big- breasted woman. 
Dolly Parton was his ideal.  A man could really get down to business with
tits like those.



   Pam saw Fred looking at her and waved.  She got up from her garden and
walked towards the fence.  She stepped close and said with a smile, "So,
you're our new neighbors, eh?"



   He was so taken with her alluring beauty that he was unable to speak. 
Her dark, olive complexion seemed extremely sensual.



   When he didn't reply in response to her question, it was left for Donna
to step over and say, "Why yes.  We just moved in today.  I'm Donna, and
this is my husband, Fred."



   Pam seemed a bit amused by the husband's inability to speak.  She went
through this all the time with men.  She flashed her brightest smile, one
which was meant to travel to a man's heart via his balls, and said in a
husky whisper, "Hi Fred.  Welcome to the neighborhood." For an added
effect, she licked her lips sensually and left them covered with a thin
film of glistening moisture.



   He cleared his throat and replied, "Thank you.  I hope to see more of
you." He didn't mean the remark to be a double entendre, it just came out
that way.



   "I don't know how we can avoid it, being neighbors and all." She inhaled
seductively and tilted her head coquettishly.  She could tell that Fred
didn't know the first thing about fucking.  The way he stuttered when he
spoke to her, the way he fidgeted in her presence, and the way he seemed to
be perspiring more than normal, all belied the fact that he may be a good
provider but a poor lover.  Of course, in time and with the proper
instruction, any man could be turned into a maestro of passion.



   Pam couldn't figure out how Fred wound up with a savory little piece
like Donna.  The blonde had every attribute that she admired in a woman. 
Perfect posture, a very thin waist, and an overall physical symmetry.



   She had been watching the trim little blonde walk back and forth to the
car for several days.  She longed to get between those firm shapely thighs
and taste her nectar.  She obviously tasted as sweet as dew-covered
honeysuckle on a summer morn.



   Pam decided to start up a conversation by saying, "Sure is a hot day for
moving in, isn't it?"



   Donna smiled and replied, "Oh, it's not so hot.  We're used to it. 
We're from the Deep South where the temperatures usually hit ninety this
time of year as does the humidity."



   Just then she over Pam's shoulders and saw a large black man step from
the side of the house.  Because she came from a small town in the South,
every black-and especially every black male-was suspect of something. 
Everyone knew that black males were always up to no good.



   She whispered to Pam, "Psst!  There's a nigger in your back yard."



   Pam looked at Donna and asked, "What was that?"



   "I said, `There's a nigger in your back yard.' Right over there.  Behind
you.  Do you want me to sneak inside and call the police?"



   Pam laughed.  "I hardly think that will be necessary.  That's my
husband, Keith."



   Donna's eyes became as round as saucers.  She couldn't believe that a
lovely white woman had married a negro.  No way.  Pam had to be on drugs or
something to accept a negro's hand in matrimony.  It was unthinkable that
anyone would marry a darkie.  Things like that just didn't look right on
the Society Pages.



   Pam could see that Donna was having a great deal of difficulty accepting
the idea of an interracial marriage.  She almost burst out laughing.  She
thought that such silly fears had been discarded long ago, But apparently
not.  Here was a lovely little blonde who was going out of her mind with
the idea of living next door to a mixed couple.



   Pam decided to play this game for what it was worth.  She called out,
"Keith, darling.  I want you to come over here and meet our new neighbors."



   Donna's eyes rounded with surprise.  She didn't want anything to do with
Keith.  She had no intention of speaking to him-ever.  After all, a white
Woman's reputation could be ruined.



   Keith stepped over and said, "Hello.  It's nice to meet you." He
extended a handshake, but she didn't take it.



   At first, she didn't know what to say.  She had never been introduced to
a negro who was married to a white woman.  And there wasn't anything in the
etiquette books about this.



   He dropped his hand.  He had run into these types of bitches all his
life.  She was just one more white cunt who believed in racial superiority.
So be it.  They were a dime a dozen in America.  He prepared to go on his
way.  He had better things to do than spend time with a racist.



   Donna had to admit that for a black man Keith was extremely handsome. 
In fact, she was surprised to find herself attracted to him.  He stood over
six feet four and weighed about two hundred and twenty pounds.  His
shoulders were broad, his hips were narrow, and his stomach was flat as an
ironing board.  If he weren't black, he would be her ideal of a perfect
physique.



   Because she was into physical fitness she sized-up the visual aspects of
his body.  His upper arms and delts were magnificent.  His forearms were
powerfully built and covered with protruding veins.  Even his quadriceps
and calves seemed chiseled upon an Adonis.



   She decided to be friendly by saying, "Hi.  I'm Donna."



   Her voice was seductive, causing him to look at her more closely.  He
liked what he saw.  This was a very, very pretty lady.  Words like
"scintillating" and "sexy" could describe his wife, but the word "pretty"
was appropriate for Donna.  She had that legendary peaches and cream
complexion which belonged to an earlier era before suntans and beaches. 
Usually women who didn't have a tan looked pale and sickly, but not this
woman.  She was as healthy and as vibrant as a kudzu vine in June.



   He would love to see what her body looked like without clothes.  He was
quite sure that she would rate a ten on a scale of ten.



   Pam realized that there was some interesting chemistry going on.  First
Fred was unable to speak, now her Keith was struck with the same
affliction. She smiled as a devious idea popped into her mind.  "Hey!  I've
got an idea.  Why don't we have a get together this afternoon over here by
our pool.  It would give us a chance to sit around, chit-chat, and get to
know each other better."



   "I...I...I don't think so," Donna stuttered.  She wasn't quite ready to
sit in mixed company- especially with a big, handsome negro.



   "Aw come on!" Pam exclaimed.  "It would do y'all good," she said with a
Southern drawl, hoping to sound especially friendly.  "C'mon over and sit a
spell with us.  We could sit by the pool and keep cool.  Bring your bathing
suit."



   Now Donna was really worried.  The last thing she wanted to do was to
expose her body to a negro's gaze.  Everybody knew what animal passions
they had around an exposed white woman.  "Oh, I don't think so, Pam.  Thank
you for the invitation."



   Pam realized that it was going to be a hard sell, so she asked Donna's
husband, "Fred!  Why don't you two come on over this afternoon for a little
party?  Huh?  What do you say?  Don't you think that would be a good idea?"



   Fred, who was always a gentleman, said, "Sure.  That sounds nice.  In
fact, it sounds terrific." He turned to his wife and asked, "Donna, why
don't we take them up on their offer?  It sounds all right with me."



   "Oh, do you really think we should, Fred?  I mean, we're new in the
neighborhood and all.  We don't want to impose ourselves on our new
neighbors."



   "Imposition, hell!" Pam exclaimed.  "You're our guests.  We'd be
delighted to have you.  We'll have some drinks, listen to some music, and
talk."



   "Oh, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way to buy anything," Donna
said.



   "Nonsense," Pam replied with a smile.  "We give parties all the time. 
It won't take Keith any time at all to make some drinks.  I won't take 'no'
for an answer.  Now you both be over here at five o'clock sharp.  Do you
understand me?"



   "We'll be there," Fred replied, his eyes gazing at Pam's incredibly
scintillating figure.  He couldn't wait to see her in a skimpy bathing suit
so that he could survey the lines of her body even more closely.  Mmm.  She
was one great looking piece of ass.



   Donna blushed deeply.  She realized that she was in a precarious
position.  So, she agreed.  She shook her head and said, "Sure.  We'll be
there."



   She hurried off to the house, not sure what to think.  But she was
slightly angered by her husband's obvious sexual interest in the next door
neighbor.



   Meanwhile, he watched Pam's ass shake from side to side as she too
walked away.  He was thinking of doing her doggy- style.  Ah!  To ram it
into her from behind would be one the premier joys of my life.



   Chapter 2



   Donna and Fred were in their bedroom.  She was looking through the
dresser for something to wear.  She turned and said to her husband, "Fred,
I think you really overstepped yourself when you agreed to this invitation.
I have no intention of staying very long over at Pam and Keith's.  Just the
very idea of sitting in the presence of a negro is one of the more
downgrading things I've had to do in my life."



   "Oh honey!" he replied.  "This is the 1990's-not the Deep South of the
1950's anymore.  When are you going to wake up?"



   "What do you mean?"



   "So what if she's married to a black man?  That's her choice to make,
isn't it?  It takes two to tango, and it's obvious that he's not holding
her in bondage to marriage.  Let them be."



   "Oh Fred!" she exclaimed.  "Can't you see that it isn't decent for a
white woman to marry someone of a different race.  The races shouldn't be
mixed.  Especially black and white."



   "Who are we to say what should be done?  If they love each other, so
what?  I don't see anything wrong."



   "My word!  Aren't you aware that if our white ancestors had mixed the
races our civilization would have gone down the tubes long ago?"



   Fred chuckled.  "Donna, it's too much for one person to worry about the
outcome of civilization.  Furthermore, I don't think that one mixed couple
is about ready to spell the doom of us all."



   She looked over and said, "I swear.  You're too good to be true.  Why
couldn't I have married a regular Georgia good old boy?"



   "Because you married me."



   She turned back and looked in her dresser again.  "What am I going to
wear to this little get-together?"



   "Wear a bathing suit, silly.  It's a pool party.  Isn't that what Pam
said?"



   "I can't very well wear a bathing suit when I'll be in the presence of a
negro."



   "Why not?  You used to wear them at your father's country club when
black waiters and waitresses would bring you mint juleps."



   "That was different.  It wasn't like this.  We weren't meeting blacks on
equal terms.  They knew their place in the South."



   He crossed the room and stood close to her.  "When are you going to wake
up and realize that this is a new age?  The sooner you discard those silly
little provincial beliefs the better off we will all be.  You're too pretty
to be prejudiced.  Now, just wear a bathing suit-the same as Pam is going
to wear- and things will work out.  All right?"



   "I don't think I have anything except this skimpy bikini.  And I haven't
worn it for a couple of years.  I may have to go out and buy something."



   "That's asinine!  Just wear the bikini you have.  This is only a pool
party being given by our neighbors, for crying out loud!  What could they
possibly gripe about?"



   "They might not think highly of us," she said as she bit her lower lip.



   "Oh really, Donna!  They're going to see us in all kinds of situations
and conditions that others aren't, simply because they happen to be
neighbors.  You don't need to go out and spend two hundred dollars on a
swimsuit for a fifteen minute get-together."



   "Very well.  I suppose that you're right."



   She retrieved her swimsuit and retired to the bathroom to put it on. 
Several minutes later she came back out, stood in front of the full-length
mirror, and assessed herself.  She called out to her husband, "Fred!  This
thing is a little bit too tight." She ran her hands along her firm little
tummy and said, "I don't remember it being so revealing."



   He looked over.  Indeed, the suit was too tight.  It had either shrunk a
little bit, or she had put on a couple of pounds in just the right spots.
Maybe it was because she had firmed up in those right spots.  Whatever the
case, it fit her like a surgical glove.  Her flawless white skin glowed. 
The suit accentuated her curves and made her look that much more appealing.
And the bottom half seemed to cup her pussy.



   He had always had an inkling to get between those magnificent thighs of
hers and eat her out the way that he heard about in some porno magazines.
But of course, Donna was too prim and proper to allow anything like that.
He had tried several times, but had always been pushed away.  But tonight,
she really did look good enough to eat.  He would love to set her in the
middle of the dining room table, spread her thighs, and lap away.



   He realized that if Keith got a good look at her, he would feel the same
way.  But then, hopefully his Pam would be wearing something equally as
revealing.



   Donna's nipples pressed hard against the material of the swimsuit.  They
looked like little fingers poking outward from her full and slightly up
tilted breasts.  Her tummy curved inward until right above the pubis, where
it rounded outward slightly.  And the bikini bottoms were just tight enough
so that he could discern the slit of her pussy.



   Mmmm.  That's where he would like to stick his nose and lap away for
hours.



   "Do I look all right, honey?  Is this okay?"



   "Darling, you look absolutely great." He wanted to tell her that she
looked scrumptious, but checked himself.



   She turned to the side and said, "Oh, I don't know.  This bikini looks a
little bit too revealing.  I mean, my god!  My breasts look utterly exposed
in this thing."



   He saw what she was talking about.  There wasn't a millimeter of space
to spare in either cup.  Her titties filled them completely.  They weren't
as large as Pam's, but they were real beauties nevertheless.  To assuage
her fears he said, "Aw, don't worry about it.  You look fine.  Underwear
ads are more revealing."



   This was partly true, but underwear wasn't as sexually tantalizing as
swimsuits.



   Donna bent over and grabbed her little tote bag.



   In this position, Fred could see the outline of her firm womanly ass
through the material of the swimsuit.  Mmm.  He'd corn hole her.  Just
once. That's all he wanted.  If she would only relinquish her Southern
propriety, which so restricted his sexual fulfillment, their marriage would
be wonderful.



   Pam, on the other hand, seemed to have no sexual restrictions.  That
woman oozed sensuality.  He hoped that she and Donna would become friends.
Maybe they could start discussing sexual matters.  Maybe then Donna would
open up and be a little more experimental.  After all, Pam was married to a
black man, and it was rumored that once a white woman experienced black
meat, she became a sexual tigress.



   Fred was stimulated by the thought of Keith sliding his dark meat into
Pam.  Why was that image so exciting?  Whatwas it about interracial sex
that caused his penis to twitch?  Maybe it was because Donna was so hostile
to the thought of mixing the races that he found the idea appealing.



   He looked again at the lovely rear end of his wife.  He fantasized what
it would look like stuffed with a long, stiff, black cock.  Perhaps the one
which belonged to Keith.



   Suddenly, he developed an erection.  He couldn't believe it!  The mental
image of his wife having interracial sex with the black neighbor stirred
his hormones to the boiling point.



   He reached down between his legs and felt his crotch.  It was ready for
action.  His hard-on was like steel.



   Just then, Donna stood up, turned around, and saw what her husband was
doing.  "Oh Fred!  Come now!  Really!  We don't have time for sex before
the pool party.



   "I'm sorry.  It's just that you look very sexy in your bikini."



   She was taken aback by his compliment.  The ones he gave her were few
and far between.  She could only think to say, "Thank you."



   "I thought that we might be able to have ourselves a quickie before we
paid our neighbors a visit." He didn't tell her that he was thinking of sex
during the pool party and that the idea of a wife-swap had titillated his
organ.



   She seemed to be genuinely touched by his offer.  "I'm sorry, darling.
Not now.  She walked over and kissed him on the cheek.  "Let's plan on it
when we get back, okay?"



   "Okay," he replied in agreement, wishing that it was Pam who was making
the offer.



   As his wife turned and stepped into the bathroom, he realized that she
truly was a lovely looking woman.  He enjoyed his marriage immensely-it's
just that it needed spicing up a little.  Things had become too routine and
too bland.



   At long last, he was in the mood for a little sexual experimentation
himself.



   Chapter 3



   Keith stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water.  There
wasn't anything he liked better than a nice warm relaxing shower after a
hard day's work.  The only thing better was having sex with Pam.



   As the warm water began splashing against his chest he started to think.
He realized that he was the luckiest man alive.  He was married to a woman
who had a magnificent body, and wasn't afraid to use it.  Not in the
slightest.  In fact, she had such an insatiable sexual hunger that she
frequently wore him out trying to quench it.



   He began laughing as he lathered beneath his arms.  Who would have
believed that he would someday marry a white woman?  Shit!  No one from the
old neighborhood, that's for sure.  That was something that only Hollywood
blacks did, like Sammy Davis Jr., and Sidney Poitier.  Moreover, who would
have believed that he would be deliriously happy with his marriage?  He
once swore that he'd remain single forever and never take a marriage vow.



   "Ha!" he laughed aloud.  "It just goes to show that you can't foretell
the future."



   He thought of how giving Pam was.  The only thing she asked in return
was plenty of sex, and that was something he was always willing to provide
for a pretty lady-white or black.



   He had really lucked out.  Most white women were ball- busters.  Some of
them weren't happy unless they had a man's nuts in a vise and his dick in a
bear trap.  Yet, there was a lot of irony about them.  The lovely ones
seemed to be born with chastity belts, whereas the ugly ones seemed too
born with their legs at a 180 degree angle.



   He bet that new neighbor had a hang-up about sex.  Blondes who looked
that wholesome usually did.  Too bad, because she would be a choice little
fuck.  He found the idea of screwing her immense appealing.  It had been a
long time since he had nailed a blonde.  But then, Pam always took care of
all of his sexual needs.



   As he began lathering the soap over his massive black body, he heard the
door to the bathroom open.  He had a hunch that it might be his wife.  It
was time for her afternoon fuck and he hadn't given her one yet.



   He saw the silhouette of her body through the sliding glass door and
waited for her customary entrance.



   She was still wearing a terry-cloth robe when she opened the partition
to the shower and asked "Taking a shower, huh.  Can I join you?"



   "Of course," he replied.  "Feel free to jump in anytime."



   Pam removed her robe and placed it on the clothes hook.  She stepped
into the shower and said jokingly, "Oh my!  There's a darkie in my bathtub
Oh dear me!  What should I do!  What should I do!"



   He teased her by saying, "Spread your thighs and open wide; I'm here to
give you a big surprise."



   She looked down and saw his massive erection which was sticking upward
at a sixty degree angle.  "Is that for me, or did you grow that for our new
neighbor?" she asked as she reached down and caressed it.



   Keith smiled.  "It's for you.  But I have to be honest.  I was thinking
of her just before you came in here."



   "I don't blame you," Pam said, as she let the warm water splash against
her large breasts.  "She's very pretty.  Sort of like the All-American Girl
type, wouldn't you say?"



   "You're telling me," he replied.  "I didn't think that girls like that
existed anymore.  I thought they went out with the poodle skirt of the
fifties."



   Pam turned around and faced him as she got completely under the spray.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, looked into his eyes, and said
with a husky and sensual voice, "You'd like to get her into the sack,
wouldn't you?"



   He looked at his wife's magnificent body and replied, "You know it.  But
I wouldn't risk losing anyone as lovely and as wonderful as you."



   She laughed as she planted a kiss on his ebony cheek.  "That's very
sweet, but did you realize that she referred to you as a 'nigger' when she
first saw you.' He winced at the mention of the word.  It was one of the
ugliest terms in any language.  He rubbed the soap between his thighs and
lathered his testicles.  "It doesn't surprise me.  I suspected as much when
she wouldn't shake my hand.  Too bad.  It just goes to show you that some
white folks- including some white women-have a long way to go before they
overcome their superiority complex."



   Pam reached for his erection and asked, "I hope that you don't think I'm
a racist."



   "Hardly," he laughed.  "Any woman who goes after dark meat like you,
suffers from nymphomania, not racism."



   She reached between his thighs and weighed his enormous testicles.  She
loved the way that they felt in her hands.  They were like round billiard
balls appropriately located beneath a mighty cue stick.  "Are you implying
that I fuck a lot?" she asked, teasingly.



   "Does a bear shit in the woods?" he said with a smile.



   "Well, I hope that you aren't complaining," she said as she stroked his
manhood.



   He leaned forward and kissed her fully on the lips.  He loved this woman
with all his heart.  "The last thing that I would ever complain about is
your unbridled passion.  You're the best woman in the world, and the best
lover of all time."



   She hugged him tightly beneath the spray and said, "That doesn't mean
that you wouldn't like a little variety, does it?"



   He smiled.  "Just exactly what do you have in mind?"



   Pam took the head of his penis and lovingly stroked it.  She then placed
it in the cleft of her vagina and began working it up and down.  "That
little blonde neighbor of ours looks like she needs a lesson in
black-and-white integration, wouldn't you say?" With her right hand she
spread her cuntal lips wide and with her left she aimed the black spear at
her very core.



   "I suppose so, but you're the one that's going to have to be the
instigator of any swapping plan." He looked down at the sight of black
flesh plunging into white.  The thought of doing this same thing with the
new neighbor excited him.  He really did want to spear that shapely blonde.



   "Leave it to me, honey," Pam said as she spread her thighs on either
side of his and slowly lowered her body down the length of his shaft.  "I
think I know how I'm going to accomplish it."



   "How's that?" he asked as he wormed into her.



   "You got a look at that husband of hers, didn't you?"



   "Yea.  So what?"



   "Well, he practically had his tongue hanging out when he was looking at
me."



   "That's understandable.  You're a terrific looking broad."



   "No, no, it wasn't like that.  It was more like the poor fellow was
starving for sex."



   "So, are you're saying that it's time for both of us to have a little
extramarital affair?"



   "Yes.  Your birthday's coming up next week and I thought that this would
be a good present."



   "Holy shit!  Talk about a birthday gift.  I couldn't even purchase
something like that at Nieman-Marcus."



   "They seem like the perfect couple for us."



   As Keith slid his way into her he said, "Imagine, my wife is going to
seduce a white man.  Will miracles never cease?"



   She giggled and replied, "I'm only doing it so that you can get a crack
at that lovely little blonde.  I want to see what she looks like with a
twelve inch black cock shoved up her tight little cunt."



   "She'll probably die," he said.



   "I doubt that.  Any woman can handle a big dick if she allows her vagina
time to adjust.  I managed, didn't I?"



   "I don't mean that," Keith said.  "She sounds a like a racist.  How do
you know that she'll agree to having sex with me?"



   "You leave that to me.  I'll work out those details before she comes
over here.  But I don't think I'll have much trouble with her.  I'd say
that she's very curious about your dark meat" "Are you serious?" he
laughed.



   "Hey!  I bet she's over there right now wondering if what they say about
black men is true.  I bet it's driving her nuts trying to guess how long
your dick is."



   "Pam, either you're an outstanding detective, or you have an incredibly
dirty mind."



   As she shoved her pelvis back and forth in time with his thrusts, she
said, "Probably the latter.  Ever since I first met you at that jazz
festival I think of nothing but black cocks entering white cunts-
especially mine." She paused for a second before asking, "Remember the
first time that we did it, darling?"



   "How could I forget?  You were the most beautiful white chick that I had
ever laid eyes upon.  I thought that you had jumped right off of the pages
of "Penthouse" or "Playboy".  And to think, you were attracted to me."



   "Hey!  You were the most attractive man there, black or white."



   "Hell!" he teased.  "You were just in the market for black cock."



   "I admit that I liked it, but I didn't love it until I had yours."



   He jabbed a couple of lengthy strokes into and out of her vagina before
asking, "Do you love me, or just my twelve inch penis?"



   She made undulating circles with her hips, rotating her cunt upon his
cock.  "At first, it was just this magnificent organ which is presently
providing me with such exquisite pleasure, but now it's everything about
you." She kissed the tip of his broad black nose for emphasis.



   "Such as?"



   She giggled and said, "I also love your coconut-sized balls and the
large amount of sperm that they contain.



   Keith began banging away with powerful strokes.  "Why you!" he exclaimed
with a smile as he thrust into and out of her.  "I could say that I only
love your tight white cunt and your lovely white tits."



   "As much as you use them, I think that you do." She stuck her tongue out
and crossed her eyes to show that she was kidding.



   The time for conversation had ceased.  Serious fucking in a shower stall
required mental effort and concentration.  He held her tightly and began
pounding into her furiously- just the way she liked it.  He loved the way
she screwed her pelvis around in large circles.  Before he met her, he
never knew that a woman could do that with her body.  So many of them were
about as agile as a wet tuna.



   Pam said that she didn't know anything about sex until she started
dating black athletes.  They had such well- developed muscles that she
decided to develop hers.  And the most important muscles on a woman are
those related to the pelvic region.



   In only a matter of a few months, she was a bona fide sexual acrobat
with one of the most limber pelvises in Springdale.  In time she wanted
more than just another physically fit black track star.  She wanted a
well-hung black stud who could match her sexual calisthenics.



   She had found her Prince Charming in Keith.  He was the best hung lover
she had ever had, and the one with the most intelligence and gentleness. 
She had it all!  A great provider, a great friend, and a great lover.  She
loved him dearly and would do anything to keep him happy-including some
things he didn't even expect.



   Keith saw that her orgasm was rapidly approaching.  She was clutching
him tighter and with more urgency.  She had molded her flesh to his torso
so that there wasn't any space separating them.



   He decided to increase his tempo.  His lunges were lifting her bodily
off of the floor.



   "Unnh!  Unnh!" she gasped.  "Just a little harder and a...unnh!  Little
deeper!" she advised.



   He did as she asked, driving all the way up into her until he was
knocking the air out of her lungs.



   "Unnnnnnh!" she moaned as she thrust her hips forward with a mighty
shove to meet his.



   The time had come.  He squeezed the last fraction of his penis into her
and held it in place.



   That did it!



   They achieved their umpteenth thousandth orgasm during the course of
their long and magnificent relationship.  She was happy.  He was happy. 
The afternoon fuck was out of the way.  Now it was time to get ready for
the evening fuck.



   Chapter 4



   Liz and Bart Smith also lived next door to Pam and Keith, and they had
been spying on the mixed-race couple for quite some time.



   Ironically, they had been married for ten years, but their marriage was
virtually sexless.  There was a reason for this.  Bart was a bit on the
chubby side.  In fact, one could say that he'd eaten one too many cupcakes
and had become a large one himself.



   But his wife was nothing to brag about either.  Liz could have been a
stand-in for Babe-the-Blue Ox of Paul Bunyan fame.  She was just as large
as Pam, but everywhere that the lovely brunette had beauty, Liz resembled a
Holstein heifer.  She had broad shoulders, a thick waist, and manly hips.
She looked as if she could stop a Mack Truck dead in its tracks.



   Many men were afraid of her-including her husband.  The only reason that
Bart had married her in the first place was because she insisted on it. 
One day she grabbed him by the collar, shook him several times, and said,
"You're gonna marry me, do ya here?"



   "Sure.  Sure.  That sounds fine with me," he replied with fear and
anxiety.  The poor fellow was eating a bag of potato chips at the time and
never really forgave her for smashing them.



   Liz also talked tough.  The words "shit" and "fuck" rolled off her
tongue with ease.  She could say "motherfucker" as smoothly as a seven year
veteran of the United States Navy.  Her friends guessed that she married
Bart because she loved having someone to boss around.  She could frequently
be heard saying such things as, "Pick up some milk at the store, asshole."
Or, "Get off your fat ass and mow the lawn, dickhead." Or, "Hey fuckface!
Bring in the mail."



   Pam and Keith frequently overheard these rantings and ravings and would
fall down laughing.



   They couldn't believe that anyone would remain married to a woman like
that- especially a wimp.  They watched Liz beat Bart over the head with the
morning newspaper, lock him out of the house for hours at a time, and slap
stickers on his back without him knowing it.  He would go off to school
wearing a bumper sticker which might read "Kick me!"; or "I'm a dork!"; or,
"Idiot on sidewalk: Move over!



   The poor fellow had no self-esteem at all Whatever little amount he had
at the beginning the marriage, was whittled away by the bitch he was
married to.  Night after night he would retreat to the security of his
bedroom (he had his own and fantasize about getting out of the relationship
But, of course, he wouldn't.  He was too much a wimp.



   People wondered whether this was the result the marriage, or just part
of his character.  Those who knew him best blamed it on his profession.  He
was a geographer who taught classes at the local college.



   Geography was known throughout the academic world as the discipline with
the highest percentage of boneheads and losers.  Anyone who pursued career
in it for any length of time eventually turn into a bonehead or loser
himself.  It was just the nature of things.



   Bart passed the time alone in his room, either looking at pictures in
the "The National Geographic Magazine", or looking out his window and
watching Pam sunbathe in the nude.  Since his room overlooked her backyard
he was frequently given an appreciative view of her lovely body for hours
at a time.  In fact, she was a study in geography herself.  Her tits
resembled twin mountain peaks.  Her ass resembled sugarloaf hills.  And her
slit was as straight as the Suez Canal.  If it weren't for her afternoon
sunbathing, he might have forgotten what a white female looked like without
clothes.  After all, Liz had long ago ceased getting undressed in front of
him, and the only nude pictures in the "National Geographic" were of New
Guinea tribal women stirring cannibal soup.



   He would frequently eat corn puffs and beat off while watching her
stretch out on a beach towel.  He especially liked to watch her do
calisthenics.  When she bent over to touch her toes, or did deep squats
with her little barbell, his heart would practically stop.  Once or twice
he swallowed a corn puff whole and nearly choked to death before he could
dislodge it.



   Pam and Keith were almost always in the nude sometime during the week.
If they weren't sunbathing on the patio, they would be skinny-dipping in
their heated swimming pool, playing with each other's genitals, or, eating
at the picnic table in their birthday suits.



   Strangely enough, Bart found the sight of a nude interracial couple to
be quite erotic.  Perhaps it was the contrast in skin color which he found
appealing.  Or maybe it was simply the taboo aspect of interracial sex
which titillated his hormones.  Whichever the case, he would sit at his
window and whack-off for.  hours at a time.



   And Pam provided him with some great whack-off material.  For instance,
she occasionally put her husband's penis in a hot dog bun and would then
eat the bread.  Or, she would stand on her head and split her thighs and
serve her husband cherries from her crotch.  She always seemed to be coming
up with new and interesting sexual variations.



   Bart had a habit of talking to himself whenever he watched the
proceedings in his neighbor's yard.  If he saw Pam bend over he would say
something like, "Come on, honey.  Just a little lower.  Come on now.  I
want to see all of that pretty brunette pussy." And since she frequently
made love with her husband on top of the picnic table, it wasn't uncommon
for Bart to would cheer them on by saying, "Go!  Go!  Go!'( Although he
always spoke aloud he spoke softly enough so as not to he overheard.  After
all, he didn't want his neighbors to know about his watchful habits.



   He would frequently reach down around his large belly and unzip himself.
Beating off while spying on Pam had become an all-consuming hobby which
occupied a considerable portion of his afternoons and evenings.  In fact,
he beat-off so much that his dick had developed a calloused skin.



   Yet he wasn't the only member of the household that liked to spy and
masturbate.  His wife, Liz, also liked to look out at Pam's nude body.  And
like her husband, she would unzip her jeans and rub her hands against her
pubic region.  And also like her husband, she talked to herself and made
comments about what she saw in the neighbor's yard.



   She thought" of Pam as the ideal woman.  She was large and beautiful,
and those breasts were magnificent works of art.  She thought that they
should have been carved on Mt.  Rushmore instead of the faces of a bunch of
ugly men.  Yuck!  She detested that gender with a passion.  The only one
she had any respect for was Pam's husband-and that was primarily because he
kept Pam happy with his B-52 sized dick.



   This got her to thinking about her own husband, Bart.  She said aloud,
"Has that fuckhead put the trash out like I demanded?  If he hasn't, I'll
fry his nuts and smash 'em like pecans in a vise!"



   She had married Bart for the simple reason that he was a relatively
bright graduate student, whereas she was only a mediocre undergraduate. 
Long ago she realized that people didn't get ahead in academia and in life
by studying, but rather by having the proper connections.  And he provided
her with the right connections at the right time.



   She had stayed with him through the years because he landed a cushy job
as an overly paid geography instructor.  She could just sit around the
house all day long and fuck- off, while the hubby brought home the
paycheck. And as long as she wanted to fleece him, she could.



   She never had to worry about him leaving her.  He was too much of a wimp
to do that.  And she never had to worry about another woman taking him
away. He was a fat and ugly geographer.



   She chuckled aloud when she thought about geography.  "My god!  What a
stupid-assed discipline.  It's the only field of learning in all of
academia where the professors are all social misfits, and the students are
all boneheads."



   Over the years she had met some of her husband's students.  The boys
resembled Alfred E.  Newman of "Mad Magazine" fame, and the girls, Ma
Kettle.  To say the least, geography was not a subject which attracted the
best and the brightest.



   "Oh hell!  I shouldn't laugh," she said to herself.  "After all, my
fuckhead husband makes a good living at it for doing virtually nothing."



   Again she chuckled aloud and mimicked his voice, '"Now class!  Can you
name the capital of South Dakota?' Damn!  To think that he makes a living
asking college students to answer second grade questions.  Only in America!
Only in America!"



   Chapter 5



   Pam was sitting beside the pool wearing only a very scant bikini.  She
saw Donna and Fred approach and said, "Well, there you are, darling.  I
thought you'd never get here."



   "Hello," said Donna, doing her best to be polite.



   Pam couldn't get over her attractiveness.  She could have been a model
if she wanted to.  New York agencies would pay a small fortune for a lovely
body like that attached to an innocent face- complete with blonde hair,
blue eyes, and a beautiful smile.  She was the very image of purity and
wholesomeness.  Well, before the evening would end, Pam would find out how
innocent this savory looking morsel really was.



   She got up and shook Donna's hand, and then turned and kissed Fred on
the cheek.  "Welcome to our backyard.  It's nice to have you here." She was
immediately struck by how small he was compared to her Keith.  He seemed
more like a boy than a man.



   Just then, Keith stepped out onto the patio, waved at the guests, and
walked over to greet them.  He shook Fred's hand, and then leaned forward
and planted a kiss on Donna's pink cheek.



   She was utterly flabbergasted!  In her entire life she had never had any
intimate contact with a negro.  None!  Never!  How dare he!  He had taken
advantage of her when she wasn't expecting it.  Her honor her been sullied.
It was a good thing that the only witness to the incident was her husband.
And he was too busy looking at Pam to take any notice of what had happened
to her.



   She decided not to display her outrage.  She didn't want to start things
off badly with her new neighbors.  Not with a thirty-year mortgage. 
Besides, she and her husband were living in a different part of the country
now.  Maybe that's the way they did things in Springdale.  Or, maybe Keith
was so used to kissing white women that he thought nothing of it.  After
all, he had married one.



   As her outrage subsided, she began to concentrate on the kiss itself. 
She realized that she had experienced something of a delicious thrill when
his lips had touched her cheek.  A little electric jolt had spread outward
from the point of contact to numerous areas of her body.  Her fingers, her
toes, and even her tummy were all tingling.



   Maybe it was Keith's tremendous size which so impressed her.  He was so
large compared to het Fred.  He seemed to stand as tall as a skyscraper, or
a redwood, towering over everyone else in the backyard.  And he was big,
having big muscles, and big arms, and big shoulders.  His legs were big. 
His hands were big.  His feet were big.  She blushed when she began
wondering if he were big everywhere.



   Pam saw the rosy color rise on Donna's cheeks and knew what she was
thinking about.  She smiled.  Every woman was alike.  They were always
curious about the size of her husband's penis.



   She didn't waste any time in implementing her plan.  She took Fred by
the arm and sat him at the picnic table.  She then sat next to him.  This
arrangement would insure that Keith and Donna would be required to sit
together, or at least stand and become better acquainted.



   Donna watched the voluptuous brunette stroll to the other side of the
yard with Fred.  She seemed ill-at-ease without the comforting reassurance
of his presence.  She especially didn't like the idea of spending time with
a black man alone.  But she had no choice.  This was a social get-together
and she had to make the best the situation.



   Keith realized that she was nervous in his presence, so didn't
immediately approach her.  Instead, he busied himself making the drinks. 
He wanted to make certain that hers was extra strong.



   Meanwhile, things were proceeding apace at the picnic table.



   "So, Fred, how do you like my little swimsuit?" Pam asked as she removed
her wraparound towel.



   He looked down and saw that the swimsuit was nothing more than a
G-string.  Nearly her entire, incredibly gorgeous body was exposed to his
view.



   My god!  he thought.  What a truly magnificent creature!



   She saw that he was admiring her tits and occasionally glancing down to
the space between her shapely thighs.  She asked him again, "How do you
like my swimsuit?"



   For some odd reason, he couldn't respond.  He didn't know what to say.
Words were failing him.



   Since he didn't immediately respond to her question, she spoke his
thoughts aloud.  "Yes.  My breasts are rather large, aren't they?  I wear a
38-C cup."



   He gulped.  The direction of his gaze had been detected.  He didn't
quite know how to respond, so he simply said, "Er...yea...you really do
have...uh large...  breasts."



   She smiled seductively and said, "Frankly, I think my Keith likes your
wife's a little more than he likes mine.  Just look at him over there. 
Why, he's staring at her breasts as if he'd never seen tits before."



   Fred turned and saw that Keith was gazing down Donna's cleavage as he
offered her a drink.  His wife seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but
then, she never liked being stared at by anyone.



   Fred didn't know what to think of the situation.  If this were the Old
South, he'd probably be obligated to go over and shoot a black man for
looking that lecherously at a married white woman.  But this was a new age,
and a new town.  Besides, why should he be angry at Keith for ogling Donna,
when he himself was ogling Pam?



   At that very instant Pam whispered in his ear, "Keith's probably
interested in Donna because she offers a little variety-if you know what I
mean?"



   Fred's eyes lit with curiosity as he turned to face the beautiful
brunette.  Was she hinting at something, which he would love to participate
in?  A little wife-swap perhaps.  Hmmm.  The night would be interesting. 
He decided to let things proceed apace to see what would .happen.



   Meanwhile, across the yard, Donna was having a great deal of difficulty
adjusting to the fact that she was virtually alone with a negro.  She felt
nervousness along with fear.



   Keith was playing it cool.  He would have to work slowly and
methodically, remaining suave the whole time.  "So, tell me about
yourself," he asked.  "How old are you?"



   "Come now," she replied with a smile.  "A woman isn't supposed to give
away her age."



   "A beautiful woman like you can't be more than twenty-five."



   "Well, you're wrong.  I am.  By a few years anyway."



   "I can't believe it!" he exclaimed.  "I've made it a habit to guage a
person's age by his or her skin.  But yours is so beautiful that I can't
tell a thing."



   She relaxed a little and said, "I try to avoid the sun as much as
possible.  Too many ultraviolet rays can age a person's skin prematurely."



   "As you can see," he replied, "I don't need to worry about the sun." He
pointed to his muscular forearm.



   She caught the gist of the joke and chuckled.  "Yes, I see what you
mean."



   Long ago, Keith had learned that the first giggle or chuckle was the
most important moment.  It set the tone for everything which happened
during the course of a conversation.  "How about another martini?" he
asked.



   "I'm really not a heavy drinker."



   "Oh c'mon.  Be social.  Another isn't going to hurt you."



   "Well.  Okay.  I guess so." She always worried about doing the right
thing, socially.  After all, she had grown up in the upper middle class
where social status meant everything.



   While Keith poured another drink, she looked over and saw her husband
talking to the voluptuous Pam.  It was incredible how good the two of them
were getting along.  It was almost as if they had been lifelong friends. 
Pam even had her hand on his shoulder and seemed to be massaging it with
her fingers.  Donna thought that the brunette was being overly intimate for
a simple conversation.



   Keith handed her another martini and she began to sip.  She reclined in
a lawn chair and he sat across from her.  She looked over at Keith and
noticed his face.  She hadn't seen him this close before so she let her
eyes linger on his chiseled cheeks, the authoritative eyes, and the angular
jaw.  Even the flaring nostrils suggested something of unearthly manliness
that her Fred lacked.



   But most impressive, was the physique of the man.  He was so large and
muscular that he resembled a Mr.  America or a Mr.  Universe.  She was
struck by the fact that he didn't have any fat.  He seemed to be composed
of only skin, tendons, and muscle.  And his dark sheen highlighted the
muscles that much more.



   She was also impressed by his large chest.  It was magnificent.  It
appeared to have been sculpted onto black marble by a Greek sculptor for
all posterity to admire.  She looked lower and noticed that through the
terry-cloth pullover his abdomen was a washboard of muscles, so well-
developed that she yearned to reach over and feel the horizontal lines with
her fingertips.



   Her Fred had tried to develop a muscular abdomen, but he never managed
to acquire the washboard look of Keith's.  Fred was in shape, but nothing
like the black man sitting across from her.



   She looked a little bit lower and realized that Keith must possess some
incredible sexual equipment.  The testicles filled the entire bathing
trunks as if he had a pair of coconuts in there.  And from the suggestive
outline of the penis, it looked as if a huge Polish sausage had been
doubled in half and stuffed in his briefs.



   Wow!  she thought.  I wonder how Pam takes that thing into her body! 
He's enormous!  And he's still in the flaccid state.  Imagine how large he
must he when he's erect.  Holy smoke!



   For some strange reason, she started to feel a slight tingle between her
thighs.  Down there between her vaginal lips, a droplet of moisture was
starting to ooze from her cunt.  She couldn't believe herself.  How could
she possible be turned on by a black man.' She tried to subdue her
feelings. They weren't normal for a transplanted Southern belle.



   Donna finished her martini quickly, but Keith immediately poured
another.



   "Ah!" he said.  "I knew you'd like my martinis Here.  Have another.  The
party's just beginning."



   There was something suggestive in his tone of voice, but she let the
remark pass.  She again looked over at Pam and Fred, both of whom were
having a very good time.  Too good of time.  They were both chuckling and
occasionally whispering in each other's ear.



   Fred was feeling quite giddy.  He let his eyes wander freely over Pam's
body now-from her high forehead, to her sexy ankles, and always stopped to
admire the big tits.  He couldn't get enough of them nor her olive
complexion.



   She kept asking, "So tell me, Fred.  Whose titties do you like better?
Mine or your wife's?"



   To be courteous he would say, "I think yours are absolutely adorable. 
Of course, I love my wife's, but wow!  You've got some beauties."



   "Would you like to see them without this bathing suit?" she teased.



   "Shit!  Would I ever.  I'd give anything."



   "Sweet man.  Maybe in a little while I can give you a little show. 
We'll all go skinny-dipping.  The four of us.  What do you think of that?"



   "That sounds nice.  But I don't think Donna will go for it."



   "Maybe she will, Fred.  You can never tell about women."



   He could tell something about them.  Pam had placed her hand on his
thigh and was playing with the tiny hairs on his leg.  She seemed to have
no inhibitions about touching him, whatsoever.  Maybe there really was
going to be a wife-swap!



   Halfway through the third martini, Donna was starting to get
light-headed.  She was feeling good, but her mental faculties were slightly
out of sync.  They weren't working at the same acuteness that she was used
to.



   Nevertheless, the alcohol had served to relax her.  She yawned and
stretched her hands above her head.  She closed her eyes for only a second,
but soon felt a hand on her thighs.  She looked down and noticed that
Keith's palms were sliding up and down her legs.  And incredibly, they
occasionally slid between them.  She wanted to protest, but for some odd
reason it felt absolutely delicious.



   Things really became interesting when he whispered in her ear, "You
know, I'd love to see what you look like completely nude.  Have you ever
gone skinny-dipping before?  Why don't we try it, huh?"



   She should have been shocked by this request, but instead she laughed.
"Me?  Go skinny-dipping.  You must be joking.  I couldn't possibly do
something like that."



   "Aw come on.  Loosen up a little.  We're neighbors.  You might as well
enjoy the pool."



   "My goodness.  No."



   "Donna, I bet that you have the - prettiest titties this side of the
Mason-Dixon line.  Anybody ever tell you that?"



   She blushed deeply.  She realized that she was discussing a very
intimate subject with a black man.  "No.  I bet there's a lot of women with
breasts prettier than mine."



   He smiled broadly and said, "Well, there's only one way to tell.  Why
don't we have a titty comparison contest between you and Pam?"



   "Oh Keith!  Really!  I couldn't possibly."



   He snapped his fingers, thus indicating to Pam that the secret word had
been passed.  She turned her head and shouted, "Did someone suggest a
titty-comparison contest?"



   Donna bit her lower lip.  She couldn't believe that she'd been
overheard. She worried that Pam would kill her for discussing such an
intimate subject with her husband.



   Instead, Pam exclaimed, "Why not!  I'll put my titties up against
anybody's any day.  C'mon Donna.  Let's show these men."



   The blonde was flabbergasted.  She didn't know what to say.  Now she
knew that she had drunk too much.  Things like this weren't supposed to
happen.  "C'mon!" Pam repeated.  "Let's show these men exactly what kind of
equipment we've got."



   "I really don't think I should," said Donna.



   "C'mon." Pam was already standing up and removing one strap.



   Fred, sympathized with his wife, but wasn't about ready to stop the
proceedings.  No way.  No how.  If it meant that she had to remove her
bikini top and appear nude, well so be it.  She needed a little loosening
up anyway.  The experience would do her good.



   Pam's straps dropped down from her lovely shoulders.  And inch by inch
the tops of her magnificent breasts were revealed.  Slowly the aureole
appeared, and then the nipples themselves.  She lowered her top as
provocatively and as seductively as possible, making sure that Fred had the
best seat in the house.



   When the breasts were completely revealed, Keith poked Fred in the ribs
and asked, "What do you think?  Nice pair, eh?"



   Fred gulped.  They were everything that he could have ever hoped for. 
Large.  Firm.  Without any sag whatsoever.  Just yearning to be touched,
begging to be licked, hungering to be sucked.  Moreover, they had no suntan
lines.  Just as he had suspected, she was unafraid to sunbathe in the nude.



   He especially liked the large aureole and nipples.  They were
appropriate on her large breasts and seemed to be staring him right in the
eyes.  They looked like headlights- large brown headlights.



   He was surprised to hear Keith say, "Go ahead.  Touch them.  They're
real.  Honest."



   Fred's heart was in his throat.  His stomach was all butterflies and
quivery.  There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to feel
those breasts.  But how could he?  His wife was standing only a few feet
away.  He looked at her, and then back at Pam.  And then from Pam, back to
his wife.



   Donna appeared to be slightly drunk and was having some trouble standing
on her feet.  This was so unlike her.  She very seldom drank too much at a
party or a social gathering.  As a matter of fact, she could hold liquor
better than he could.



   He looked back at Pam and noticed that she was smiling and luring him
on-as were the breasts-as were the nipples.



   He again looked at his wife, seeking some sort of approval, but she had
a glazed, tipsy expression on her face which was a mixture of happiness and
being stoned.



   He turned his attention back to Pam's breasts.  He noticed that she had
moved her hand up to the left nipple and was gently tweaking it.  He
decided to go ahead feel the type of breast which he had been dreaming
about since puberty.



   The breasts were drawing him closer, as if they contained a tractor
beam. The nipples were casting a magic spell on him, as if they were a pair
of ruby eyes.  In a happy trance, he lifted his arms, extended his hands,
and gently squeezed.



   She giggled at the first contact.  "Ooo!  You have nice hands.  I like
that."



   He felt like a schoolboy.  He never realized that another woman's breast
flesh could be so tantalizing.  He squeezed again, and again, and again. 
He pretended that he was playing with firm bread dough.  He was kneading,
petting, and stroking- satisfying a lifetime fantasy.



   "You like them, don't you?" she asked.



   He could only nod his head in agreement.



   "You can play with them all you want," she said.  She then turned to
Donna and said with a smile.  "Okay.  It's your turn next.  C'mon, let's
see those titties."



   Donna felt a combination of shame and exhilaration.  The alcohol had
numbed her senses.  If she were still living in her small Southern town she
would have walked away in anger from the scene in front of her.  But things
were different here.  Her husband was behaving differently than he had ever
before.  And the black man didn't seem like such a bad fellow.  He just
seemed like a normal man.  Albeit, a very large and very handsome one.



   Her hand drifted to her shoulder and lingered for a moment or two. 
Should she, or shouldn't she?  She knew that she shouldn't remove her top,
but for some reason the game seemed harmless.  Besides, her husband should
be the one to complain, but he was too busy feeling up Pam.



   Donna was sure that things wouldn't get out of hand.  After all, what
could possibly go wrong?



   She lowered her straps, and just as Pam had clone, seductively wiggled
her titties out of the confines of the swimming suit.  The two grapefruit
sized breasts plopped free, and the perky little nipples sprang to life for
everyone to see.



   Pam looked at them and said, "Goodness.  Those are pretty little things.
They're just the right size for playing with." She turned to Fred and
asked, "Do you play with them often, honey?" The word "honey" mildly
shocked him.  No one other than his wife had ever called him that.  Of
course, he had never played with another woman's breasts, either.  He
smiled and said, "Yea.  I guess so.  Sure I play with them.



   Keith immediately reached forward and began fingering the underside of
the right one.  He moved his fingertip from the base of the breast to the
aureole, to the nipple, and then trailed his finger back under to the
initial spot of contact.



   Donna didn't know how to respond.  She gulped loudly and almost
swallowed her tongue.  Here was a black man fondling her beautiful white
breasts.  But he handled them with such finesse and such expertise that it
didn't seem the least bit inappropriate.  In fact, he was so agile and
adept with his hands that she soon relaxed completely.



   Donna noticed that her nipples had hardened into little diamond peaks
and were straining outward with erotic anticipation.  Her titties were
sending sexual alarms throughout her body, coursing all the way down to her
tummy, causing it to move in and out in excited little tremors, and then
down further to that private chamber between her thighs.



   She couldn't get over the fact that she had lived in Springdale for only
a matter of a couple of days, and yet here she was exposing herself to a
black man and his spouse.  Things were certainly a lot different here than
they were in her small Southern town.



   Meanwhile, Fred started to bounce Pam's breasts as if they were bean
bags, while Keith continued fondling Donna's.  The degree of each man's
sexual experience was quite evident by the way that they handled each
woman's tits.



   Keith was using his black hands like a masterful masseuse would, with
soothing finesse, working to stimulate the entire body.  Whereas Fred
merely saw tits as appendages that should be bounced around for several
hours.



   When Pam heard Donna sigh with a loud audible, "Ahhhhh!" she knew that
another phase of her plan could be implemented.



   Chapter 6



   Pam Suggested, "Okay, boys.  It's time for you to remove your terry
tops. Fair is fair.  Everyone has to be topless."



   In a matter of moments, everyone was.



   With all four of them nude from the waist up Pam made another
suggestion. "Let's put on a little music and dance beside the pool.  How
about it?



   "That sounds great," replied Fred, still happy a schoolboy.  "Let's do
that."



   "However, there's only one rule," Pam replied.



   "What's that?" asked Donna with a slight amount of concern in her voice.



   "You can't dance with your spouse.  Agreed."



   Keith immediately said, "Agreed."



   Fred and Donna looked at each other, but didn't say anything.  After
all, he was hungry for voluptuous Pam, and Donna was beginning to lose her
inhibitions about standing topless in the presence of a black man.



   Pam walked over and turned on the stereo.  A soft melody with a
distinctive sexual beat started drifting through the night air.  She
returned to Fred's side and wrapped her arms around his waist.  She
delicately mashed her breasts against his chest, wiggling her nipples
against his chest hair in the process.  "Mmm.  I just love the feel of a
hairy chest," she said.  "As you can see, Keith doesn't have much."



   Fred looked over and noted that she was correct: her husband didn't have
very much chest hair.  But he was covered with so many muscles that it
really didn't matter.  His manliness couldn't be questioned.



   Fred loved the feel of Pam's large, firm breasts against his chest. 
They reminded him of warm water balloons having a little hard cherry in the
middle.  There was something exciting about having another woman's naked
breasts rubbing against his flesh.  He had never experienced anything like
it before, and he came to the conclusion that variety truly did heighten
the sexual experience.



   Meanwhile, Donna sauntered over and stood directly in front of Keith. 
She looked up and saw his magnificently handsome black face and was
eroticized by the presence of his chiseled muscular body.  She had always
appreciated muscles on a man, and Keith was a fine example of musculature
and manhood combined together.



   She stepped forward, just close enough to keep her nipples an inch or so
away from his chest.  But he took the initiative, stepping forward to mash
his chest against her breasts.



   "Oooh!" she gasped.  Her rock-hard nipples tickled against his manly
flesh, flashing a sexual charge downward to the base of her tummy.



   He looked down and savored her delightful breasts, and then down lower
to the bikini bottom that she wore.  He knew that in only a matter of hours
he would be plugging away at that sweet little blonde-haired cunt of hers
with his mighty black shaft.



   He chuckled to himself.  Here was this little lady from the Deep South
who was dancing topless for the first time in her life, and pressing her
lovely white breasts against the flesh of a black man for the first time as
well.  Soon she would lower her last remaining defenses and thrill to the
experience of her first black fuck.  He couldn't wait to see her eyes round
into blue little orbs of surprise when he shot a load of sperm into her
tight little cunt.  After all, the one thing that he never compromised on
was withdrawing at the moment of release.



   Donna figured that the best policy was: When in Rome do as the Romans
do. She danced demurely, not sure what to do with her hands, so she kept
them at her side.  She was wearing only the briefest of bikini bottoms and
trying very hard to stay a respectable distance away from Keith's well-
packed briefs.



   She looked over and saw that Pam and Fred were dancing closely and
erotically.  He had lowered his hand downward so that his palm cupped her
shapely buttocks.  And she, in turn, had her hands cupped around his.  They
were giggling laughing, and having a good time.



   Pam whispered in his ear, "I can tell that you're enjoying this dance."



   "How's that?" he asked.



   "Because your pecker is getting stiff."



   "I'm sorry," he said, apologizing and trying to pull away.



   "Don't be.  I like it stiff.  In fact, it's got to be stiff for what we
have in store later." She drew him even closer to her body and began
grinding her pelvis against his with unmistakable sexual interest.  "Do you
like that?" she asked.



   "That's a foolish question, silly girl.  There isn't a man on this
planet who wouldn't."



   "I bet you wouldn't say that if you were dancing with our other
neighbor."



   "Why?  Is she a dog?"



   "Yep.  A real ugly bow-wow."



   "Remind me not to attend any of her pool parties," he replied.



   "You're a very good dancer.  What else are you good at?" she asked
suggestively while fitting her crotch more snuggly against his.



   "I'm good at a lot of things, but I feel that there's always room for
improvement."



   "Isn't that interesting," she said teasingly.  "I'm good at a lot of
things too.  I bet there's a few things that we could do together."



   He broke into a broad grin.  "I'm very sure of it," he replied as he
experimentally thrust his pelvis forward, testing to see if there would be
a like response.



   He was glad to feel that there was.



   On the other side of the pool Donna was still dancing with Keith.  She
felt his hands on her back and on her shoulder blades, hugging her closer
to him.  And then, the large hands drifted down to her lower back.



   He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You have a magnificent
body, Donna.  You should display more of it."



   She merely replied, "Thank you.  I'm glad that you like it.  I try to
keep it in shape by eating the right foods, getting plenty of fresh air,
and walking the straight and narrow path."



   "Good for you.  I'm glad that there's women like you doing the right
thing all the time."



   She giggled.  "I'm not sure that dancing topless is the right thing." .



   "Oh nonsense.  This is the 1990's, not the Deep South of the 1950's
anymore."



   She smiled.  "You know, my husband said those exact same words to me
before we came out here.  Isn't that a coincidence?"



   He decided to place some extra emphasis on the statement.  "It's more
than a coincidence, Donna.  I think that it's prophetic."



   She stopped her dancing and looked up into his eyes.  "Do you really
think so?  Truly?"



   He narrowed his eyes and looked at her levelly.  He said in his best
soothsayer voice, "I sense that you're a very special person, sent for a
very special purpose.  I sense that many things will be revealed to you
tonight, provided that you allow events to unfold as they should."



   He bent down and kissed her fully on the lips.  He didn't want her
asking too many questions about his mysterious soothsayer routine.  Talking
was the worst possible way to spend time with a beautiful woman.  If she
wanted to talk about cosmic meanings, she could do it later with her legs
spread wide.  They could discuss the cosmic meaning of interracial fucking.



   She felt the large lips touch hers.  She hadn't been kissed by another
man other than her husband since her wedding day.  And she had never been
kissed by a man of another race.



   Mmmm.  She relaxed and enjoyed it.  The taste of his lips was exotic,
and made her hunger to taste him elsewhere.



   She kept wondering why she was behaving this way.  Was she on the way to
becoming a slut?  She had always wanted to experiment sexually, but she had
never contemplated any scenario like this.



   And yet, it was thrilling!  It was exciting!  Something naughty was
taking place in the backyard and she didn't want to stop it and walk away.
Besides, Keith said that the universe would be revealed to her tonight. 
That was reason enough to stay.



   He had lowered his hands to her shapely buttocks and was squeezing her
lower torso against his.  He sensed that the time was right to begin
pressing home the point.



   Uh oh!  She could feel it.  His penis was beginning to distend and grow
hard against her lower belly.  Right there beneath her abdomen and above
her vagina.  Right on ground zero of her clitoris.  If she kept dancing
close to him, she would definitely get turned-on and possibly lose all
control of her sensibilities.  A penis burrowing against her clit always
turned her into a wanton woman.



   Compounding the problem was the fact that she had one of the most
sensitive clits in existence.  All she had to do was touch it with her
finger and she could bring herself off.  And here she was, having her pubic
region manipulated by another man's penis.  Worse yet-by a negro's
hardening shaft.



   And yet, she wasn't afraid of him anymore.  She wanted it touched.  And
she was starting to want much more.



   At that moment, Pam looked over and realized that the time had come to
proceed to the next stage of the plan.  She shouted, "Okay.  Now that we've
had a display of our upper bodies, let's have a little inspection of the
lower half.  Come on.  It's time to go all the way and discard those last
vestiges of clothing."



   Donna's mind was a blur.  Was this the way the universe would unfold
itself to her?  Surely the simple act of disrobing wasn't a cosmic event.
But then, maybe it was!  After all, Adam and Eve even got their nudity
mentioned in the Bible!



   She turned and watched Pam lower the bottom half of her bikini down her
long legs.  The brunette beauty seemed to be taking an extremely long time.
But then, Donna noticed that everything seemed to be occurring in slow
motion.  Even when Pam kicked the bikini away with her foot it seemed like
an NFL Slo-Mo replay.  And when she saw Pam standing before her completely
nude, it seemed perfectly natural and appropriate.



   Fred looked at the brunette and exclaimed, "Wow!  You really do have an
all-over sun-tan."



   She giggled and said, "It takes a lot of hours lying in this back yard
on a beach towel to get my body like this." She turned around slowly so
that he could see all of her.



   He feasted his eyes on her nudity.  She had a darker complexion than his
wife and it was thrilling to note the differences in the size of the
breasts and the shape of the hips.  Even the shape of the belly was
different-equally erotic, but in a different way.



   Keith stepped over and put an arm around her.  He said, "She is one
magnificent looking creature, isn't she?" With his right hand wrapped
around her shoulders, he pointed with his left and said, "Look at these
breasts and this firm, flat tummy.  And look at this.  Her vagina is just
gorgeous, don't you think?"



   Fred was shaking his head approvingly.  It was like Keith was presenting
her at a slave auction, with each individual part highlighted and commented
upon for a higher bid.



   Fred was most impressed by her symmetry.  For a large woman this was
truly amazing.  Most had bodies which were not symmetrical-something sagged
somewhere.  It could be a breast, both breasts, or the ass.  But not on
Pam. Not in the slightest.



   Remarkably, she didn't seem to mind the auction block type of
presentation.  She relished it.  After a while, she smiled and said, "Come
.on, Donna.  It's time for you to display your wares."



   Donna hesitated a second, and then slowly slipped her hand beneath the
bikini bottom and began drawing them down ever so slightly.  She looked up
at her husband, and then over at Pam.  But she couldn't bring herself to
look at the black visage of Keith.  For some reason, she knew that she
would be extremely turned on if she saw him watching her.



   She closed her eyes and drew the panties down her firm thighs.  Inch by
scrumptious inch, until they got to her kneecaps, where they fell on their
own.  She felt a rush of cool air against her coiffured bush, and the
rustle of her tiny pubic hairs.



   Fred walked over and held her the same way that Keith had held Pam. 
"Well, here she is.  Here's my little darling."



   She managed a slight smile, but didn't know if it was appropriate.



   Pam whistled and said, "Mmm.  You've got a lovely body.  You truly do
keep in remarkably good shape."



   The comment made her day.  She had worked so hard trying to get her body
into superb condition.  At long last it was appreciated by someone.  Maybe
there was something good to say about nudity after all.



   Keith looked at her naked body as well.  He normally didn't like white
women who didn't have a tan, but her skin was even and blemish free. 
Nothing marred her beauty.  She looked like the girl next door who was
displaying her nakedness for the very first time.  Sort of like Eve
stepping out of the Garden of Eden.  And she had the cutest little pussy
that he had ever seen.



   Pam looked at it and asked, "Donna.  Do you give your pussy a haircut?"



   She blushed.  "Yes.  I like to keep it looking neat."



   "Why didn't I ever think of that!" Pam exclaimed.  "That's a terrific
idea."



   Donna started feeling better about her nudity.  In fact, she was very
proud of the lovely little bush between her thighs.  She started speaking
about it in detail.  "I like to trim it every other day to keep away any
unsightly hairs.  I also wash it with the best conditioner that I can buy
to keep it soft."



   Keith realized that this was a clue.  He immediately stepped forward and
said, "Really?  Can I touch it?"



   Donna, who was always ready to present her coiffured cuts for appraisal,
thrust her pubis forward and said, "Sure.  Have a feel." After all, she was
very proud of her pussy.



   Keith stepped close, lowered his hand, and slowly petted the inside of
her thigh.  "Hmm.  You also very smooth legs.  I like that on a woman."



   Waves of pleasure were rippling through her body, emanating outward from
the point of contact.



   Fred looked over and couldn't believe how erotic the sight was of a
black man feeling between his wife's shapely white thighs.  He watched the
black hand move upward and gently cup the beautiful little blonde patch. 
It rubbed over and along the Mound of Venus, softly touching it, gently
stroking it, and feeling it.



   Pam cuddled close to Fred and whispered in his ear, "It's exciting
watching another man touch your wife, isn't it?"



   "Yes," he replied with a noticeable shortness of breath.  "I never knew
that it could be like this."



   While the black index finger tickled below, the thumb slipped along the
crease of the pussy.  As if commenting about the handling of a new
automobile, Keith said, "It's got a real nice feel to it, all right."



   "Thank you," she replied.



   He could feel her inner recesses were already moist with feminine
secretions, proving that she was excited by the proceedings.  He ran his
index finger along its length and dipped his forefinger into her liquid
depths.



   The alcohol had gotten to Donna.  She was feeling good about everything
taking place around her.  Her nipples were as hard as diamonds and her
breath was coming in short little gasps.  With each passing moment she was
becoming more sexually aroused.



   She hated to admit it, but she had never been this turned on with Fred.
Perhaps it was because marriage inhibited true sexual liberation and
fulfillment.  Maybe it was only outside the confines of matrimony that a
woman could have her physical needs satisfied.  Maybe that's what the great
hedonistic and pagan civilizations of the ancient world had learned.  Maybe
that's why adultery persisted alongside matrimony, and prostitutes were
always within walking distance of an altar.



   Her mind was beginning to accept the inevitable.  She relaxed her body
and enjoyed the physical sensations of having a masterful hand probe at her
sensitive groin.



   Mmmm!  It felt delicious.



   Pam saw that Donna was almost ready for her initiation into interracial
sex.  But she was an expert on these types of situations and was aware that
one shouldn't push matters.  A woman's sexual gratification should not be
rushed.  Too many men forced matters, and as a consequence wound up with
cruel frigid bitches who faked orgasms and merely dallied in the mechanics
of sex.



   "C'mon everybody," she called.  "Let's sit down at the picnic table. 
Oh! And Donna, I want you to sit next to me." She knew that the men would
become sexually excited by the vision of two naked honeys sitting directly
across from them.



   Donna didn't want the manual inspection of her pussy to cease because
she was enjoying it so.  But she figured that it was probably a good thing.
After all, she needed a few moments to relax and catch her breath.  She
reluctantly followed Keith to the picnic table.



   She sat across from Keith while Pam sat across from Fred.  The table had
a glass tabletop so everyone could see each other's genitals.  Fred was
having the time of his life surveying Pam's body.  And she was providing
him with an excellent view of her entire crotch.  In fact, she sat so that
her pubic region was thrust forward slightly.  And to make sure that
everything was clearly visible, she spread her tan thighs slightly.



   Fred didn't know whether to watch her lovely cunt or gaze at her
beautiful tits, which hung out nicely over the tabletop and jiggled
delightfully when she laughed, giggled, or moved her arm.



   Keith, in turn, admired Donna's succulent little body.  He couldn't get
over the tiny waist.  He wondered if one could see the outline of a dick in
her belly when she was being reamed.  He would have to check that out once
he slid his massive pole into her.



   He looked lower and savored the sight of her pretty pussy.  She was
keeping her thighs close together in a meek attempt to keep it hidden.  But
he could see enough to make him salivate.



   He had to admit that he liked the coiffured look.  He would have to talk
Pam into getting hers trimmed.  Maybe later the women would oblige with a
demonstration.  It would certainly be an erotic sight.  The lovely blonde,
crotched over, sitting between the brunette's thighs, snipping away on her
curly pubic hairs.



   With that salacious thought in mind, it wasn't long before he began
developing an erection.  The organ rose to half-mast, and then
three-quarters, and then above the level of his lap.



   Donna looked over and watched it rise.  She couldn't believe its size.
It was already as large as a rolling pin and growing larger by the minute.
His huge appendage just kept growing and growing and growing.  Her blue
eyes locked on the black tube of flesh, hypnotized by its enormity.  When
it was fully erect it looked like a Saturn V rocket standing up on a launch
pad ready for blast-off.  It was as big around as her wrist and nearly one
foot in length.  It looked like it contained a quart of blood and could
squirt a pint of sperm.



   Pam realized that she would have to draw Fred into the conversation to
keep up his self-confidence.  She frequently had to do this whenever Keith
developed an erection in the presence of other men.  After all, most were
intimidated by such a monstrous piece of manhood.



   In order to make certain that Fred also developed an erection, she
readied down between her thighs and began petting her pussy.  He watched
her hand with keen interest and smiled.  Within only a matter of seconds
his organ began to rise.  Of course, it was nothing compared with Keith's,
but it wasn't a tadpole either.



   When it was fully distended Pam smiled, blew him several kisses, and
suggestively winked.  She leaned over and whispered in Donna's ear, "Look.
The boys have sprouted something from their gardens."



   Donna smiled and said, "Yes.  I can see."



   Pam said to her, "You know, I don't think my husband's erection is for
me.  I think it has your name written on it."



   Donna giggled.  She was feeling brazenly wanton.  She realized that
something extraordinary was going to take place, and it was quite apparent
that she would be the centerpiece in a wife-swapping event.



   Her suspicions were confirmed when Pam whispered, "Have you ever had a
black dick burrowing into you, Donna?"



   "No," she replied softly, almost ashamed to admit that she hadn't
participated in the joys of interracial sex before.



   "It's just like a white one, except that it's a little darker in color,
a little harder, and lasts a lot longer."



   Donna's tongue was nearly stuck in her throat.  Her heart was beating
rapidly.  Her pulse was racing.  She didn't know what to say or what to do.
She only knew that she wanted sex with someone- anyone-as soon as possible.
The mouth of her vagina had long since opened wide and was yearning to be
filled with something long and hard.



   Keith reached under the table and began petting her thighs.  He
understood the amount of frustration she must feel.  The poor girl had to
shed the remaining vestiges of bigotry before she could cross the threshold
into a new and glorious world of sexual abandonment with a member of
another race.  It was truly akin to a leap of faith.



   Pam also understood the dilemma that her new neighbor was going through.
After all, she had once had to do the same herself.  She knew how tough it
was to shed old vestiges of prejudice.  Yet it had to be done.



   She decided that now was the time to leave Donna and Keith alone.  She
got up, walked around the table, and tapped Fred on the shoulder.  She led
him by the hand to a nearby love seat.  She told him to sit, and then she
sat on his lap.  She smiled when she saw the look on his face.  All men got
that dopey look on their face when they realized that they were going to
have sex with a beautiful woman.  They always looked like little boys ready
to open a surprise package.



   She grabbed his cock and began to lovingly massage it.  "Do you have a
name for this fine piece of anatomy?" she asked.



   "A name?  What do you mean?" "Keith calls his 'Peter'."



   Fred caught on to her little joke and said, "Well then, I guess I call
mine 'Dick'."



   She looked down and pretended to talk to it.  "Hello, Dick.  We haven't
met before, but you look like a nice fellow.  Would you like to be my
friend?"



   Pre-ejaculatory semen was beginning to ooze out of the tip.  Pam noticed
it and said, "Aw!  The poor little fellow seems to be crying.  Is he in
pain?"



   "He's positively throbbing with it," Fred replied with bated breath.



   "The poor darling needs some loving.  Here, let me bend down and give it
a kiss."



   Donna looked over and even in her inebriated state couldn't believe what
she was seeing.  Another woman had her lips wrapped around her husband's
dick!  She felt a sudden rush of jealousy mixed with anger and realized
that two could play at this game.  She got up from the picnic table, headed
around to Keith, and sat her lovely body down on his strong lap.  She
prepared to reach for his cock, but was surprised to see that it was
standing so tall it poked her in the underside of her left breast.



   She couldn't believe it!  She had no idea that a penis could grow so
long.  And there was no way that she could wrap just one hand around it as
Pam was doing with Fred.  She had to utilize both hands in order to
properly massage the throbbing black organ.



   Keith whispered in her ear and joked, "It take two hands to handle a
whopper, doesn't it?" She smiled.  She was having fun.



   Chapter 7



   Earlier in the evening, Bart had positioned himself by his bedroom
window with his ever-present bag of corn curls.  When he saw Fred and Donna
first arrive he said, "Ooo my!  What kind of a little blonde dish do we
have here?  She certainly looks like the wholesome type.  What's she doing
at Pam and Keith's?"



   He pulled out his trusty binoculars and surveyed the blonde closely.  He
couldn't get over how pretty she was.  She seemed so innocent.  She seemed
so sweet.



   For the first twenty minutes or so, she faced away from him, so all he
got to look at was her backside.  But that was enough.  She was one of
those rare type of women who had a lovely back.  It was free of love
handles, any noticeable tilt toward the left or right, and was as firm as
her little tummy.



   A lot could be said for a woman's back.  It's beautiful aspects were
frequently overlooked by men.  Probably because men were always preoccupied
with the frontal equipment.  Yet, over the years, he had been able to
detect a beautiful woman by the appearance of her backside.  Once he got a
good look at her shoulder blades and spinal column, he could predict with
accuracy what her breasts, stomach, and pelvic region would look like.



   There was no real trick to it.  A woman with a shapely back frequently
stood straight and erect.  As a result, her posture was generally perfect,
like that of Grace Kelly.  And if the posture was good, and the woman was
in good physical shape, then breasts usually remained up tilted and savory.
Whereas if the posture was poor, the breasts usually hung down prematurely.
Poor posture also led to the development of fat guts-perhaps the ugliest
and most unsightly attribute a woman could acquire.



   Bart realized that he wasn't one who should talk about other's posture.
His was about as bad as they came.  His back resembled a question mark and
his gut was similar to that of a beached whale.  It was so large that he
had to reach around it in order to hold his penis to take a leak.



   After a while, he noticed that Pam and the blonde had removed their
bikini tops.  "Oh yea!  Now we're getting somewhere," he said.  "Let's see
those titties."



   He was treated to an appreciative view of two of the most gorgeous sets
of knockers on any women anywhere.  They were certainly as good as those
depicted in his girlie magazines.



   "Mmmm.  I just love large nipples on gorgeous women," he said as he
grabbed a cupcake.  He stuffed it into his mouth and reached down and
unzipped himself.  He wanted to be ready.  After all, beating off while
spying on Pam was his hobby.



   He was surprised to see both women remove their bikini bottoms.  They
stood bare-assed naked in front of the men as if displaying themselves for
a wife-swap.



   "Wow!" he exclaimed as he grabbed some pretzels.  "I'd always heard
about these things, but I'd never seen one.  I thought that they were a
thing of the past.  Wow!  Wow!  Wow!"



   When Keith walked over and began pointing to Pam's titties, as if
pointing out the good points on a used car, Bart nearly swallowed his
tongue.



   "Holy shit!  This is going to be the best beat-off I've ever had!  It's
shaping up to be better than a porno movie.' He reached for several bags of
corn puffs and pork rinds, and said, "It's going to be a great evening
Meanwhile, Liz was also peeking out her window She too had noticed that Pam
and Keith had a pair of visitors.



   "Wow!" she said aloud.  "Who's that gorgeous looking blonde?  She looks
like a living, breathing angel."



   For years she had known that she had latent lesbian tendencies.  This
was proven by her intense arousal whenever she saw Parn's nude body.  No
man ever set her hormones aflame like that.  Never!  Regardless of the size
of his penis or the color of his skin.



   But the little blonde dish standing on the patio had awakened some new,
deeper passions which she never knew existed before.  Her eyes focused on
the trim little tummy and the shapely derriere.  They were the best that
she'd ever seen.  Suddenly, beads of perspiration began to form on her
forehead, and a nervous quivering ran up and down her spine.  Her head
started to feel light-as if she were experiencing oxygen depletion.  Her
stomach started to flutter-as if she were experiencing stage fright.  But
most importantly, her vagina started to throb like it had never throbbed
before.  The sight of the beautiful blonde had caused her to reach a
plateau of sexual arousal akin to the climax stage of a spontaneous orgasm.
She felt better than when she beat Bart over the head with a newspaper.



   Liz couldn't stand the thought of remaining in her clothes one moment
longer.  She quickly disrobed, throwing everything helter-skelter across
her room.  When she was completely nude she rushed to her dresser, opened
the top drawer, and sought out her vibrator.



   "Oh fuck!  Oh shit!  oh piss!" she screamed in desperation.  "Where is
it?  Where's my little friend?  I've got to have it?  I remember putting it
back in here this morning.  I know I did."



   The dresser drawers were yanked out-one after the other-and their
contents dumped out.  After a frantic search of several minutes, she found
if buried beneath a pile of bras.  With her room in complete disarray and
her clothing scattered everywhere-on the bed, on the floor, on the
lamps--she checked to make sure that the batteries were charged.  After
all, there's nothing worse than a vibrator that won't vibrate.



   "Thank god you're all right,' she said as if talking to a child.



   With the treasured object in hand, she dashed back to the window and
positioned herself in the chair for the best view possible.  She kissed the
tip of the vibrator, spread her thighs, and lowered it between them.



   "Ah!" she moaned.  "It's going to be a great evening."



   Although she didn't know it, at that very moment, Bart was also
discarding his clothing and positioning himself for a good view of the
proceedings.  Hence, husband and wife stood at adjoining windows in the
timeless tradition of sexually starved voyeurs watching other participants
in the game of love.  Their eyes were open wide, and their breath came in
short little gasps, as each worked at his or her crotch at the same time.



   Some people truly were made for each other.



   Remarkably, neither Bart no Liz believed that their masturbation secret
had been discovered.  However, nothing could be further from the truth. 
Pam had witnessed their ritual dozens of times.  She thought that they
looked positively repulsive peeking out from behind the window, working
their hands furiously at their groins.  But she never said anything.  She
figured that the more sperm which was spilled, and the more exhausted they
got, the less likely they were to produce ugly children.



   Hence, Pam saw herself as benefiting the entire human species.



   Chapter 8



   Keith realized that the time had come to get down to business.  His dick
was throbbing with passion and needed release.  His balls were beginning to
boil and roll.



   Donna noticed that his massive body was completely relaxed.  She looked
at him and again admired his dark rippling muscles.  She knew what was
coming.  She knew what was expected of her.  She waited patiently and tried
not to show her nervous excitement.



   He reached down and touched her shapely calf with his calloused fingers.
However, instead of bringing his hand upward toward her very core, he felt
his way downward to her small ankle, slowly, knowingly, and teasingly.  He
stroked it gently and appreciatively as one might an art object.  He knew
that if a man wanted a woman to become a seething sexual inferno, many
small fires had to be ignited in various distant points of her body.  A
woman's earlobe needed as much attention as her nipple.  Her eyebrow needed
to be stroked and admired just as much as her tummy.  Pam said it best: "A
man who pays attention to detail, is a man who never fails to get tail."



   Keith lightly touched Donna's Achilles tendon with just enough pressure
to acknowledge its existence.  He then ran his palm along the smooth
backside of her calf.  He liked its shape.  It was dainty compared to
Pam's, but nevertheless it was extremely erotic.  He made small circles on
her skin with his forefinger, gently massaging the flesh.



   She felt the gentle scraping of his fingers through her entire being. 
Her mind, body, and spirit were becoming sexually fine-tuned.  She had no
idea that this kind of foreplay could be so sensual.  Why hadn't she
learned this before?  Why hadn't her husband ever taken the time to do
this? Why didn't they teach this in school?  It was a fuck of a lot better
and more useful than geography and social studies.



   She watched his extended finger make tiny circles, and began to think of
it as if it were an animal.  She giggled aloud at the thought.



   "Why are you laughing?" he asked.



   "Your forefinger reminds me of a little black snake."



   "That's a good analogy.  You can think of it as doing preliminary
scouting for the big black snake which resides between my legs."



   She smiled, knowing that she would soon get to know it intimately.



   "You have such a lovely complexion," he said.



   "Thank you," she replied.



   "I didn't know white women could have such lovely skin."



   "Any woman can have beautiful skin so long as she cares for it.  Skin
will never age as long as you don't overexpose it to the sun."



   "I know.  You mentioned that before."



   "I'm sorry for repeating myself."



   "Don't be.  I admire your knowledge on the subject.  I'm just very
curious why you don't have a pale complexion?" He moved his finger from her
calf to the back of her knee.  As before, he moved his ringer with an
expert's finesse.



   "Paleness is the result of improper nutrition, or an imbalanced diet, or
illness.  As long as a person eats right and stays fit, skin will have a
healthy appearance."



   "That's very interesting," he said.  However, discussing skin vitality
was not what he had in mind for the evening.  His nails moved back down to
her calves again, where he began massaging them with slightly more pressure
than before.



   He was amazed at how smooth her flesh was.  This was one of the things
he liked most about blondes.  Hair could be removed without leaving any
stubble.  Although Pam had equally smooth and beautiful legs, she
occasionally had rough calves if she didn't shave them regularly.



   "I like what you're doing," she said.  "It feels nice.  No man has ever
taken this much time with me before."



   "A woman like you deserves to be handled with loving tenderness," he
replied.



   "Mmmm.  Where did you learn this technique?"



   "I suppose I could be a lying braggart and say that I learned it on my
own.  But that isn't the truth.  Most everything I know about sex, I
learned from Pam.  She took the macho out of me, and put the lover in.  She
sanded my rough edges down and left me with a fine finish."



   "Mmmm.  I think that it's nice that she taught you to consider a woman's
needs."



   "A woman's needs are no different than a man's.  We differ only in the
amount of time we need for them to be fulfilled." He moved his hand back up
past her knee, then onto her thigh." "Mmmm.  You're so wise." While gently
massaging her thigh he said, "I still can't get over how gorgeous your skin
is."



   "Mmmm.  I appreciate these compliments, but don't you think that Pam has
attractive skin?"



   "Of course I do.  It's just that the contrast between yours and mine is
more stark than between mine and hers.  She's more of a Cajun, whereas
you're more of a Southern belle."



   She relaxed and allowed the hand to roam freely over her long leg.  She
wanted him to take his time- as long as he needed.  As far as she was
concerned, they were the only two people on the planet and they had all the
time in the world.



   She watched his hand move to the mid-point of her inner thigh.  A smile
crossed her face when she thought about the irony of the situation.  She
was the descendant of a slave owner and yet she was lying nude beside the
descendant of a slave.  Her husband had been right.  It was best to leave
the past behind.  This was a new age.  Things had changed.



   She saw the hand move from her inner thigh to a spot just below the
juncture of her legs.  She was sure that he would proceed onward.



   But instead, he let it rest there for a moment before saying, "I
especially like this expanse of skin right here."



   She looked down and saw his black hand only inches from her pubis,
preparing to claim possession of that prize.  She opened her legs slightly
to welcome his fingers up as far as they would go.  Her thigh began to
tremble-almost invisibly.  And she began to perspire slightly from the
sweet anticipation.  A sweet muskiness wafted from her cunt and scented the
air.



   She watched him inhale and saw the wide nostrils flare.  Coincidentally,
at that very instant her vaginal lips flared as well.



   His fingernails nails had reached close to the juncture of her legs. 
They slid off the smooth skin of her inner thigh and onto the soft pubis
itself.  His large hand was now centered at the very core of her being.  He
wiggled his forefinger back and forth, lightly touching the pubic hair
covering her Mound of Venus.



   He held her close and whispered in her ear, "I admire your expertise
with scissors.  You have to be very gentle around this region of your
body," he said as he pushed his middle finger downward through the little
forest of fur, and lightly touched the opening of her cunt.



   "I've always been very careful," she said, holding her breath, almost
delirious with rapture.



   "I want you to continue being careful in the future," he said as he
touched one of her outer lips.



   "Why?"



   "Because I intend to invite you and your husband to many, many pool
parties."



   "What if I don't accept your invitations?" she said, trying to sound
serious, but failing miserably.



   He slid his finger upward along her cuntal slit and then spread the
outer lips, exposing the clitoris.  He flicked his finger expertly against
it.  "I get the distinct impression that you'll come running from now on."



   She inhaled quickly and replied, "If nothing else, I'll...cum." She had
to calm herself, because she was on the verge of an orgasmic release.



   He was happy to see that she had a sense of humor.  He decided to press
forward with his carnal mission.



   She watched in fascination as the large black fingers came together and
tweaked the clitoris.  "Oh my!" she cried out in shock and joy from the
sensation.



   "You like that, huh?" he asked as he did it again.  "Oh yea," she
swooned.



   He nibbled on her earlobe and said softly, "I'll soon be giving you much
better thrills than that."



   She was wet and open in an instant.  Her mouth had opened automatically
and taken in a huge gasp of air.  She knew that if he kept scraping and
playing with her clit that she would achieve an explosive orgasm right
there on the spot.



   However, he moved his hand away.  He knew that she was at a critical
stage and didn't want to take her over the top just yet.  He was
meticulously calculating her seduction.



   She was briefly frustrated.  She wanted to grab his hand with both of
hers and pull it back.  She almost begged him.  But she could only sit and
watch it move away.  She realized that he knew what he was doing.  He was
in command.  All she could do was sit on his lap and wait for his next
move.



   He rose to his feet, towering above her like a skyscraper.  "Shall we
try the pool?" he asked.



   "Anything you say," she replied.  "Anything I say?" he asked.



   "Yes.  I'll do anything."



   He decided to tease her.  "All right.  Let's go out in the middle of the
street and fuck on the center-line.  We can wave at cars as they pass by.
C'mon."



   She looked at him and said with a grin, "All right."



   He guessed that she was either so drunk from alcohol that she couldn't
think straight, or so turned on from sexual foreplay that she meant what
she said.



   He refrained from leading her out into the middle of the street and
giving the neighborhood a gander at interracial sex.  He didn't think that
Springdale was quite ready for blacks balling blondes in the middle of
their roadways.  Although he had to admit that it was a tempting idea.



   Instead, he took her by the hand and walked with her to the pool.  "Have
you ever screwed in the water before?"



   She shook her head.  She was afraid to admit that it was one of her
long-time fantasies.  She frequently dreamed that she was a mermaid-like
creature swimming in a warm sea of porpoise-like men who had large scaly
penises.  During the course of a given dream she would imagine herself
being taken hundreds of times by the sea creatures-sometimes two, three,
and four at a time.  Invariably, she would wake-up covered in a thin sheen
of sweat.



   She never mentioned the dream to Fred, knowing that he would consider it
sick and perverse.  Yet she persisted in having it.  Moreover, she didn't
want it to stop.



   Her husband never understood why she sometimes slept with a stuffed
dolphin.



   Keith broke her train of thought by saying, "I think that you'll find
this experience most rewarding.  It's one of the best turn-ons there is. 
Every American family should have a full-sized swimming pool in their
backyard so that they can screw until the wee hours of the morning.  It
sure beats watching television."



   He stepped down the concrete steps at the shallow end of the pool and
carefully led her, step by step, into the pristine blue water.  She
shivered slightly as the water came up to her ankles, and then to her
knees, and then to her thighs.



   Once she realized that the pool was heated, she relaxed and moved with
ease alongside him, ever aware of the black body beside her and the mission
that they were here to perform.



   When little waves were lapping at her already moist and open vagina, she
sighed, "Mmmm.  The water feels nice."



   "Yes.  I can't think of anything nicer than a heated swimming pool.  It
was the first thing that I had installed when we purchased this place."



   It suddenly struck her that she didn't know what either he or Pam did
for a living.  Well, she wasn't about to ask him now.  She might find out
that he was a butcher, or that he operated a funeral parlor.  Learning
about such occupations would be a definite turn-off.  She let the question
remain unasked.  She didn't want anything to bring her down from her
extremely aroused state.



   She looked over and saw that little waves were also lapping at his loose
and hanging balls.  She couldn't get over how large they were in comparison
to her husband's.



   Keith saw where she was looking and said, "Yes.  I know I've got a big
scrotum.  So what?"



   She decided to tease him.  "Aren't you a little testy about the size of
your testes?"



   He smiled at her joke.  "You don't think that they're too big?"



   She looked down and watched them bob along the surface of the water for
a minute or two.  "They remind me of the ones I've seen on bulls grazing in
a field.  But they're not really too big-considering the size of the penis
and the man which they're attached to.  The poor things must work overtime
just to achieve ejaculation."



   "Why do you say that?"



   "Because of the simple physics involved.  They must pump a load of sperm
through a foot-long dick, and goodness knows how many yards of tubing
before they can blast it into a woman.  Ounce for ounce, they must be as
powerful as rocket engines."



   He liked her analogy.  "Every other woman thinks that they're too
big-even Pam."



   "Why should she complain?  The bigger the balls; the bigger the load of
sperm.  I've always wished that Fred was better equipped because I love to
feel semen being squirted into me.  It makes me feel like a woman."



   "I'll remember that later."



   "Please do," she said with a smile."



   They wadded together out to the four-foot marker at the middle of the
pool and turned and faced each other.  The warm water was now up to her rib
cage.



   He put his wet hands on her shoulders and slowly slid 'them forward
toward each other across her shoulder blades.  He ran his palms up and down
her backside, wanting to make her feel loved and comfortable in his
presence.



   She felt the water trickle down her back and down the crevasse of her
spine until it dripped into the water of the pool.  The skin of her back
and shoulders was tingling as he slowly drew her toward him.



   Her mouth came open automatically as it neared his.  She looked into his
dark eyes for a second as his head came downward.  She saw his black face
encompass one-quarter, and then one-half, and then four-fifths of her field
of vision.  She had never noticed this feeling of being overwhelmed by
Fred, because he was so similar in height to her.  She felt good being
dominated.



   She felt Keith's lips join hers.  They were still tart and cool with the
taste of liquor and she savored them.  They flowed over hers and claimed
her mouth as his.  His tongue came out-tentatively at first- testing her.
And then it was urgently licking and probing.  It laid claim to every
square millimeter of her gums and teeth.



   She was surprised to learn that it was much longer than her husband's.
It slid far back into her throat.  For a moment she thought that she was
being kissed by a lizard.



   To make certain that he understood her willingness to cooperate, she
rounded her lips and began sucking on his intruding appendage.  She was
sending her own type of signal to him.



   She felt his hands slide upward from her back to her shoulders.  He
gently gripped them and carefully pushed her away, breaking the kiss.  Her
back now rested against the smooth side of the warm pool.  She noticed that
the place was specially designed, perhaps custom-built for underwater
sexual intercourse.



   She wondered if this is where he fucked Pam.  How many times had the
lovely brunette been speared in this special place?  And in what position?
She found the mental image extremely sensual and erotic.



   Donna noticed that her nipples were glowing in the light which came from
the base of the pool.  It gave them a brighter pink appearance and made
them look that much more appetizing.



   She searched Keith's face as he looked at her naked breasts.  She
noticed a strange mixture of animalistic lust and scholarly admiration.



   "Ah!  You have truly magnificent tits," he said.



   She giggled.  "Thank you, but personally I think your wife has lovelier
ones."



   "Well, they may be larger, but they're not as exquisite.  Yours are like
a painting."



   "I hope not a Salvador Dali," she teased.



   "No.  More like a Rembrandt, finely detailed and symmetrical." He
admired her strawberry-colored areolae, which stood out on a field of
cream-colored flesh.



   He moved her slightly now so that her body came deeper into the water.
The warm liquid inched upward until it touched the very bottom of her
nipples.  He positioned her so that one-half of each was sticking out of
the water, while the other half remained submerged.



   She saw what he had done and said, "You really know how to turn a woman
on, don't you?"



   "I've had a lot of experience with my wife.  She showed me this trick."



   "I envy her."



   "And I envy your husband," he replied.  He bent forward and surrounded
her left breast with his mouth.



   "Ahhhh!" she moaned as she encircled his head with her arms.  She felt
the heat of his tongue mixed with the warmth of the Water from the pool. 
He rotated his tongue around the small appendage, mixing warm and hot.  The
sensation was delicious.  She alternately felt chilled and heated at the
same time.



   He moved his tongue above and below her nipple, touching it, swirling
around it, and nicking it.  And then he moved to the other, doing the same.
The firm little buds hardened until she thought that they would burst from
sexual excitement.



   His hands had left her arms and had scraped down against her ribs.  He
loved the way that they were outlined faintly beneath her white flesh. 
Ribs could be seen only on women who were devoid of fat.  Women who were
overweight usually had ribs which were deeply buried.



   He gently scraped her sides with his fingertips.



   "That tickles," she giggled.



   "Not as much as what I'm going to do to you in a few minutes," he
replied with a knowing smile.



   "And just what might that be?" she teased.



   "If you don't have an idea, then you have a worse sex life than I
imagined."



   She watched him step very close to her.  She felt a sudden rush of warm
water around her pelvis.  She put her small white hand against his immense
black chest to keep him at a slight distance.  She wanted to watch him take
her.



   She looked down through the rippling water and saw that he was huge and
beautiful.  She extended her hand and took the black protruding shaft into
her palm.  It felt different than her husband's.  Of course it was larger,
but it also had more veins and seemed to be harder.  "Ah what do we have
here?" she giggled like a schoolgirl.  "It looks like a black submarine."



   "That's right, and it's looking for a home port.  Do you know of any
around here?"



   She surrounded the dark flesh with her fingers.  She closed her eyes and
shut off all of her senses except for those emanating from her palm.  The
object therein gave her a tremendous feeling of power, satisfaction, and
warmth.



   Ironically, she felt comforted while holding the pulsing appendage, in
much the same way that a child does when holding a personal blanket.  But
she began to worry if she could actually take it into her.  Could her
vagina stretch wide enough to accept him?  Would she be overcome with pain
during the penetration!  Would she be able to produce enough vaginal
secretion for him to slide easily into and out of her love hole?



   She was still pondering these important questions when she felt his
hands on her back again.  They were warm and wet against the exposed flesh.
They slid downward into the water, and curved themselves around her firm
and shapely buttocks.



   "Mmm.  You have a wonderful ass," he said.  He couldn't stand a sagging
rear end on a woman, nor could he tolerate a flabby one either.  The
buttocks were some of the easiest muscles to keep in shape, yet many women
who did aerobics and exercised regularly neglected them.  That was
unfortunate, for shapely buttocks were truly an alluring feature on a
female.



   Donna wiggled hers back and forth sensually, gratefully acknowledging
his compliment.  She then tilted her pelvis forward slightly so that her
pussy was only inches from his cock.  Never before had it been so hungry to
be filled.  Never before had she yearned so desperately for penetration.



   He saw the need written on her face and the burning desire in her eyes.
He couldn't keep his passion quelled any longer.  He slowly lifted her
body, raising her slightly out of the water as if she didn't weighed more
than a feather.



   Her eyes looked upward into the sparkling clear night above her.  She
saw the stars and the moon and the constellations.



   Yes!  she thought excitedly.  The universe is being unveiled to me.  And
it's in the form of a big black cock!



   She looked lower and saw the serrated outline of the tops of the trees.
She looked over Keith's powerful shoulders and saw her discarded bikini
bottoms by the edge of the pool and his martini glass on the picnic table.
She wanted to remember these images.  They would be the ones she would
recall later.



   She felt her smooth white thighs being spread wide apart by his huge
black hands.  They were insistent and demanding that they open wide for
him. She willingly spread them- wider than she ever had for sex.  When she
felt the tendons at the juncture of her legs strain, she knew that she
couldn't open herself any more.  He looked at her and smiled.  He placed
his hand her outer lips, and gently stroked her inner ones.  "Ahhh," she
moaned He slid his hands back under her buttocks, so that her body weight
was resting on his forearms and wrists.  He began to draw her to him,
slowly.  Her body was being lifted up and directed towards his pelvis.



   She felt her wet legs begin their long journey around the sides of his
muscular thighs and then back to circle his power-packed buttocks.  She
knew instinctively what to do.  She locked her ankles behind him,
scissoring him in the fleshy ring formed by her legs.



   She felt the initial hard contact of his dark muscular male flesh
against her white smooth female flesh.  She felt the spongy head of his
penis nuzzle against her slit.  She felt it work up and down, seeking out a
place in which to take refuge.  She watched in hypnotic fascination as it
sought out her entrance.



   She smiled and asked, "Are you having difficulty finding the hole?"



   "I know where it is.  I'm just teasing you a little."



   "I've had enough teasing.  I'm ready for some relief," she sighed
softly.



   "Then aim yourself in my direction and I'll slip it in."



   She aided him by tilting her pelvis so that the penis slipped between
her labia.  She gently twitched the lower half of her body back and forth,
trying to get more of him into her.



   He looked down and saw her vaginal lips attempting to wrap themselves
around the head of his cock.  He then glanced at her face and saw that it
was a mask of iron concentration and unbridled lust.



   He decided to tease her.  "Maybe we ought to do this another time, huh?
What do you say?"



   "Oh dear god, no!  Please don't say that," she pleaded desperately.



   "Hey!" he said consolingly.  "I was just kidding.  I have no intention
of stopping."



   "Don't ever stop.  Don't ever stop," she replied.



   She felt her vagina spreading and widening to accommodate the width and
strength-of his enormous rod.  She felt first the water rush in, and then
the water being forced out as he wormed the first inch into her private
chamber.  Then her eyes again closed and she concentrated on nothing except
the overwhelming immensity of the man slowly driving up inside of her.



   A new man!  A different man!  Her first black man!



   She felt the first inch squeak inside, and then another, followed by
another.



   "Ummm.  I knew you'd be tight," he said, "but nothing like this."



   She didn't reply.  She was too delirious experiencing the sensation of
another inch moving up her vagina.



   Slowly, smoothly, triumphantly, he worked his way into her.  She
silently reveled as the inches slid inward, upward, and onward into her
liquid depths.  She couldn't believe how long he was taking to get into
her. The experience seemed to go on forever.  She thrilled that he was
taking his time and marveled at the tremendous length and girth of his
shaft.  There seemed to be end to it, filling places which she didn't even
know were hollow.



   She was grateful that she had felt no pain.  His prolonged foreplay had
stimulated her to such an extent that she could have taken a bowling ball
into her.



   "Ohhh!" she moaned in ecstasy.



   Another inch, and another inch, and another inch, moved into her. 
Burrowing, worming, spreading.



   "Ooooo!" she sighed while straining her body against him.  She was
attempting to assist his forward journey as much as possible.  His penis
was hard, yet cushiony.  Powerful, yet yielding.  Fearsome, yet loving.



   "Oooo!" she moaned again.



   Never had sex been like this.  Never had she dreamed that a physical
experience could be this glorious.  Maybe this is what the flower children
of the sixties meant when they said that something was "mind blowing."



   "Ummph!" she grunted, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.  At
long last he was all the way inside of her.  His black pelvis was grinding
against her white one.



   She was very proud of herself.  She had managed a fantastic
accomplishment.  She had been able to contain every tiny fraction of the
mighty organ and her vaginal muscles were sucking on it avidly.



   She looked down at his dark body cradling her white one.  They were now
locked together in the warm, clear water.  She was immersed in it almost up
to her shoulders.  Her ivory breasts were mashed against his ebony chest.
Her calves were welded around his torso.  Delicious sensations of pleasure
were emanating from her nipples as they ground against his pectorals.



   "Ahhh!" she sighed in exquisite rapture.  He began to move her lower
body slowly and deliberately back and forth against himself.  Even though
he had buried all of his dick in her sheath, he wanted to feel more of her.
He wanted to push himself into her womb.  He wanted his black prick to
travel all the way to her heart.  He wanted be part of her, feel what she
was feeling at that very instant, and know what it meant to have a tight
cunt filled with a big cock.



   It was the age-old yearning of all men.  They had subjugated women wince
antiquity, but they wanted them, needed them, and secretly desired their
mysterious and unique ability to recreate life.  Men could only fight and
fuck, but in reality everything in the universe belonged to the female of
the species.



   Donna sighed.  She reached up with her arms and encircled his neck. 
"Hello stranger," she said with a smile.  "Do you live around these parts?"



   Their eyes met again.  Hers blue; his dark brown.  Their lips came
together and their tongues explored a wetness and a warmth totally
different from the pool around them.



   Now he began moving her in a wide rotating motion, carefully and not too
rapidly.  She leaned back a little and rested her shoulders against the
side of the pool.  Her tiny white hands clutched his muscular black arms,
and she could feel each of the smooth flowing efforts his biceps, triceps,
and deltoids made in pulling her back and forth, to and fro, up and down
around his groin.



   Suddenly, she discovered that she was quite buoyant in the water, and
that there was no need for her to continue circling his body with her legs.
With a sense of wonderment, she unlocked her ankles, and saw her toes float
by themselves in the water just above the surface of the pool.



   He felt the movement, and looked behind him.  He smiled and said, "You
didn't know you could do that, did you?"



   "I've never done it in a pool before."



   He took one step to the right, and then another- never breaking the
rhythm of his arms or the movement of her body.  Now her breasts were above
the surface of the water as were her knees.  He looked at them and admired
them.  There was something very sexy about kneecaps when they were bent and
the skin was tightly stretched over them.  Knees, like calves, were an
under-appreciated part of a woman's anatomy.



   Keith began moving faster now-breathing deeper, harder, louder.  His
hands were beginning to dig gently into the flesh of her buttocks, holding
them possessively.



   She was in a state of blissful happiness.  She had never known such pure
physical pleasure.  If she would have died at that very moment, she would
have passed away eternally happy.  No woman could expect more from a man,
nor a penis, than this.



   She was astounded to find that the dick inside of her had again begun to
swell.  This was an entirely new thrill.  Fred had never managed to do
this. Yet, Keith's was becoming wider and wider-extending in range;
extending in scope.



   It was beginning to push up against the very back of her vagina, against
the cervix itself.  At first it felt slightly painful, and then
uncomfortable, and then incredibly exciting.  She could feel it now with
exactly the same sensitivity, the same intensity that he could.  She knew
that the man inside of her was swelling to the very point of explosion.



   She could feel the hard veins around the pulsing shaft, like scaffolding
around a monumental structure.



   She could sense his blood flowing through them, rushing onward to other
destinations in his magnificent body.  And beneath the veins she could
imagine the sperm tubes preparing themselves to ejaculate.



   She looked at his face and saw that it was exquisitely flushed.  His
dark hair was tossed and gleaming.  His deep brown eyes had turned jet
black.  The planes of his face had tightened and lifted, revealing his
cheekbones and making his jawline appear that much more angular.



   She imagined that he looked younger and-if possible-a thousand times
stronger than earlier in the day.  The act of sex seemed to increase the
virility of a man.  Maybe that's why male virgins always looked like dorks.



   Reflections of light from the pool and moonlight from above danced
across his chiseled ebony face.  He was alternately black and silver. 
Donna knew that at that instant, he had to be the handsomest man she had
ever seen.



   He began to move into her more and more quickly, more and more
powerfully, and more and more urgently.  Waves began to form between their
two bodies, and ripple up to the surface.



   "Umph!  Umph!  Umph!" he moaned as he plunged into her.



   "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!" she responded with each masterful plunge.



   "Umph!" "Ah!" "Umph!" "Ah!"



   Soon the entire pool was churning from end to end.  The once placid
surface was sloshing about in turbulent waves.  Gallons of water were
spilling over the sides and cascading onto the sidewalk.



   Donna's knees were moving through the water like pistons.  She suddenly
caught her breath.  Her orgasm was rapidly approaching.  She became aware
that each time he drove into her, great masses of water were being forced
against her exposed clitoris.



   "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!"



   "Umph!  Umph!  Umph!"



   The repeated stimulation of her clit was maddening.  She was moving,
uncontrollably, ecstatically, as rapidly as he, toward the first double
orgasm of her life.



   "Are you ready?" he gasped.



   "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!" she screamed.  "Oh fuck!  yes!"



   Suddenly, the waves between their bodies grew, and shot to the surface,
and exploded there in huge bubbles, spraying both their shoulders and faces
with warm water.



   She felt her vagina contract around his penis, and then spasm against
his flesh as rapidly as the bubbles had exploded on the pool's surface
between them.



   At the same moment, he lifted back his godlike head, and gave out an
animal cry so loud that it seemed to echo back to them in all directions
from the surrounding yard.



   "Arrrrghhhhhhhhh!"



   She felt oodles of semen flood into her an instant later-more than she
thought a man could manufacture in a year's time.  It flowed into her, and
then gushed out.  She expected to see splotches of sperm rise to the
surface and form a layer like an oil slick.  Instead she learned that sperm
was heavier than water and tended to sink.  Nevertheless, she had felt his
seed baptize her innermost recesses, just as he had promised.



   She felt ecstatic.  She felt sated.  She felt fucked.



   Chapter 9



   While Donna and Keith were balling in the pool, Pam was preparing to go
at it with Fred.  She really didn't mind the prospect of screwing him. 
After all, he wasn't such a bad looking fellow.  At least he was in fairly
good physical shape for a modern day white male.



   She didn't understand how a race which had conquered much of the world,
and had done so much technologically, had allowed so many of its males to
turn into little round dumplings.



   Take the fellow that lived next door.  That Bart guy.  Now there was a
sad case if she ever saw one.  It was pathetic the way he allowed that
bitch wife of his to overrun him.  He was the apotheosis of wimpdom and
probably a shoe-in for the Wimp Hall of Fame.  And it was sad to see him
beat- off so much.  Nearly every hour on the hour.  Didn't geography
instructors have anything better to do than play with themselves?



   She would see him whenever she sunbathed.  He tried to hide
inconspicuously behind the curtain or the dresser, but his ever-present bag
of corn puffs always gave him away.  And if they didn't, then the fist
moving up and down in front of his pants did.  Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  He
was always at it.



   She couldn't figure out how he could eat junk food and masturbate at the
same time.  Well, at least he had a talent of some sort.



   Thank goodness Fred didn't look like a wimp.  He just looked like he
needed several extensive lessons in sex education.  Fortunately he had come
to the right place.  After all, Pam had forgotten more about sex, than most
women ever learn.



   She was a true-blue child of the seventies.  She had grown up in the
immediate aftermath of the sexual revolution.  She was fortunate to have
missed the early Free Love period and to have come of age during the
Cosmopolitan era.  She was a product of her age, wanting to enjoy every
aspect of sex while she still her figure and her looks.



   With that thought in mind, she reached between Fred's legs and searched
for his testicles.  When she found them she had to stifle a laugh.  They
were so small compared to Keith's.  But then she had to keep in mind that
most men weren't as well-endowed as her husband.



   She began to play with them, rolling them in her palms and tickling
their underside.  "Do you like what I'm doing?" she asked.



   "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!" he moaned.  "That feels great.  Really."



   She gently tugged, pulled, and fondled.  "Just think," she said.  "You
only moved into your house several days ago and already you've got a
beautiful neighbor playing with your balls.  That's pretty remarkable,
don't you think?"



   "Yea.  Ah!  Ah!  Ah!  I should send it in to the 'Reader's Digest'. 
Maybe they'll publish it in their life in the United States' column."



   She laughed.  "I like your sense of humor.  You're all right for a white
guy."



   He looked at her tits and replied, "And you're all right for a white
girl."



   She saw where he was staring and said, "You're a real tit man, aren't
you?"



   "Yea, I am.  I'm been this way ever since I was a teenager."



   "I swear!" she exclaimed.  "What is it with you guys from the South? 
Every one I've met has a hang-up about huge tits.  Could you please explain
it?"



   He thought for a moment before replying, "I can't.  I don't know.  My
wife's breasts are beautiful, but for some reason I want them to be a
little larger."



   "But she has absolutely gorgeous breasts!" Pam exclaimed.  "A million
women would give anything to have equipment like hers."



   "I know it.  I should be ashamed of myself for wanting larger models."



   "What if I were to say to you that I preferred dicks which were bigger
than yours.  How would you feel about that?" She squeezed his scrotum
especially hard, as if indicating her displeasure with his philosophy.



   "You haven't had my dick in you yet, so how do you know if you want a
larger model?  Size isn't everything with penises, you know."



   She scraped her fingernail against the base of his left testicle and
said, "Nor is it with breasts either, so there.  Appreciate your wife. 
She's a pretty little thing."



   "Yes she is," he replied.  He reflected for a moment and said, "You
know, I just can't believe that she's participating in this wife-swap."



   "Why's that?" Pam asked, now playing with his scrotum more gently.



   "Before we came over here, she was adamant about not wanting to sit with
Keith because he's black.  And now look.  She's over there in the pool with
him -and they're both completely nude.  I suppose that proves that women
have fickle minds."



   "It could also mean that she's finally meeting a man of another race on
a one-to-one basis, rather than with a fixed prejudice about what an entire
group of humanity is like.  She's finally allowing her mind to open up to
new experiences."



   Fred looked down and watched the hand lovingly caress his reproductive
organ.  He then looked up into Pam's brown eyes and said, "I, myself, had
to abandon group-think a long time.  When I was a kid growing up in the
South I always heard that blacks were inferior, or some such bullshit. 
Yet, I came to know so many decent and intelligent ones that I could never
swallow the crap."



   She looked at him with an expression of deep understanding on her lovely
face.  "I'm glad to see that you've overcome some of your prejudices.  Many
men-and women-never do.  They retain them throughout their lives, never
relinquishing them to the scrap heap of history.  Now, tell me, do you mind
the fact that I'm married to a black man?"



   "No.  As I said to my wife, that's your decision.  Love has to be
color-blind.  If it isn't, it's not love, it's social status."



   "What a beautiful thought," she said, somewhat surprised.  "For
expressing it, I think that you deserve a special round of attention."



   She got down on her knees and faced his groin.  She reached up with her
hands and spread his legs apart.  She put her hand around his penis, leaned
forward a little, and looked up at him.  "This is what I do for men who
have wonderful philosophies."



   She moved her face closer to the head of shaft.  She was only a couple
of inches away, when she paused, looked up at him, and smiled.  "Does your
wife do this for you, Fred?"



   "I wish."



   She laughed.  "I get the feeling that after she spends an evening with
my husband she'll be doing this for you all the time."



   He didn't exactly understand what she meant, but didn't care.  He was
too busy watching the beautiful brunette lean forward and concentrate her
attention on his sexual organ.  When her face was only several inches away
from it, he felt her cooling breath blowing on his glans, and then on the
neck, and then lower onto the base of the shaft.



   She went up and down, down and up, for approximately a minute, before
she stuck her tongue out and flicked it against the very tip.  She then
opened her mouth wide and lowered her head.  She began to suck avidly.



   She was like a starved child with a banana popsicle in her mouth. 
Apparently she wanted to suck every last droplet of sperm out of it.  "Easy
does it, babe.  There's no need to rush."



   "Mmmph!" she said.



   She slowed her oral ministrations and established a regular rhythm of
sucking, nibbling, and licking.  All the while, she kept her left hand on
his scrotum, cradling his balls.  She handled them as if they were precious
jewels.



   Occasionally she would extend her fingernails and lightly scratch his
wrinkly sac.  This was a well-practiced technique which always caused the
sperm rise in her Keith.  Fred was in seventh heaven.  The sight of the
beautiful brunette mouthing his organ was perhaps the most erotic sight he
had ever seen.  Her long hair flowed down her back and shrouded her face as
she administered to his urgent need.  She was so giving, loving, and expert
at her oral skill that he was overwhelmed.  In only a matter of moments he
was ready to release his sperm.



   She noticed that his testes had tightened and that his organ had swelled
slightly.  She quickly removed her mouth from the shaft.  She reached out
with her hand and grabbed the neck of the penis.  With her thumb she
pressed down hard on area beneath the crown.  "Ow!" Fred said.  "What are
you doing?"



   "I'm making sure that you won't ejaculate."



   He looked at her with a confused expression and said, "But...  but... 
but that's the whole idea, isn't it?"



   "Hardly.  The idea is for the two of us to have a mutual orgasm.  I
don't want you wasting your sperm on a blow job."



   "Oh," he said.  "I never thought it was a waste."



   She smiled and said, "You really do have a lot to learn, don't you?"



   He took this as a slight affront and replied, "Donna likes me just the
way I am."



   Pam chuckled.  "She'll like you a whole lot better when I get through
with you.  Now, lie down on the ground.  It's time that you have a women
run the show."



   "You mean, woman-on-top?"



   "That's right.  It's obvious that you've only screwed in a missionary
position."



   "I'm not sure I like this."



   "Believe me, you will."



   "Why's that?" he asked, getting down on the lawn.



   "Because I'm going to keep you harder for a longer period of time than
you've ever been in your life.  You're going to learn to hold off until the
woman is completely satisfied, or you're going to die trying."



   "Geez!" he said as he lay back.  "What is this- fuck school?"



   "Yes," she replied with a smile, squatting down to straddle him.  "And
it's your first day of class.  Now, aim that stiff cute fellow right here."



   "Ahhh!" he moaned as he felt her warm wetness enclose his erection.



   As she felt the penis burrow into her she looked down and said, "You've
got to learn that sex has many different dimensions.  There are the simple
mechanics of sex-which you're obviously aware of-and then there is the art
of sex, which I will teach you.  They are not one and the same."



   "Ahhh!" he moaned again.  "At long last, I've found a teacher who I
really want to listen to."



   Meanwhile, over in the swimming pool, Keith and Donna stood in the water
still clinging to each other.  All the while she remained cradled in his
arms.  Slowly they relaxed as the waves in the pool, and the waves in their
bodies, diminished.



   Keith backed up slightly and allowed his once mighty organ to plop out
of her vagina.



   "Goodbye dear friend," she said, reaching down with her hand to give it
a tender, loving squeeze.  It had performed wonderfully.



   "Well, how did you like it?" he asked.



   "I now know what they mean by 'a royal fuck'," she replied.  "Maybe what
they say is true."



   "That black meat is best?" he asked, teasingly.



   "Not only that, but that the older a women gets, the more she learns to
enjoy sex."



   "I'm going to have to look you up when you're fifty."



   "I'm not going anywhere," she said with a tender smile.  "I like it
here. I want to remain living in this very neighborhood-preferably right
next door to you for the remainder of my life." She gave him another deep
kiss and nibbled on his tongue.



   "Mmm!  Mmm!" he said.  "I'm gonna like having you as a neighbor."



   "I'll always try to be a good one," she said, teasingly, and then turned
to prepare to get out of the pool.  But...



   She stopped dead in her tracks.



   There, in front of her very eyes, she saw her husband engaged in sex
with Pam.  Donna was shocked to her very core.  Fred was lying on his back
and the brunette was riding him like a horse.



   "Ungh!  Ungh!  Ungh!" Pam kept grunting as she worked her way up and
down his stiff penis.  She was squatted over him with her long beautiful
legs spread wide.  She was rocking back and forth while balancing herself
on her hands and feet.  She was obviously enjoying herself because she was
smiling broadly and licking her lips while she worked.



   Keith came up behind Donna and patted her on the ass with the palm of
his hand.  "I see that Pam and Fred have found something to do to occupy
their time."



   "I can't believe it," Donna replied.  "I just can't believe it."



   "Why not?  Your husband should enjoy the same freedom as you.  That's
what the sixties and the sexual revolution was all about."



   "I don't mean that," she chuckled, slightly.  "I'm referring to the fact
that he's allowing a woman on top.  He would never allow me to do it. 
Never.  Your wife either hypnotized him, or he's drunk."



   Keith stepped immediately behind her and positioned his dark penis
between the cheeks of her pink ass.  "Do you mean to say that you two have
only been doing the missionary position all these years?"



   "Well...yes.  But don't blame me.  I always wanted to experiment, but he
wouldn't allow it."



   His hand came around to her flat little tummy and pulled her back
tightly against his body.  He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered
in her ear, "Let's just watch them for a while, okay?"



   "Do you think we should?" she asked, sheepishly.



   "Ah, you're such an innocent little lamb chop.  You think that sex
should only be experienced behind closed doors with four dead bolts in
place.  Well, that's where you're wrong."



   "Why?"



   "Because sex is meant to be seen.  It's normal.  There's nothing wrong
with having intercourse in public, or in front of the in-laws, or in front
of the children.  How do you think the human species evolved?  Only during
the past five hundred years has the myth of sexual privacy developed."



   "Explain yourself."



   "You don't think that your poor serf ancestors in northern Europe, or my
poor tribal forebears in western Africa, lived in three bedroom houses, do
you?  Hardly!  They lived in one room shacks with a batch of offspring
running around and several relatives hanging out and everyone was humping
and pumping away without any regard to 'privacy'."



   She giggled.  She had never thought of history that way.  He was right.
She relaxed and wiggled her ass against his pelvis.  "So, you're saying
that my distant great-grandmother was screwing in front of her children?"



   "Probably.  She couldn't very well send them outside when it was
forty-below and say, 'Stay away for two hours.  Then you can return.'" She
laughed so loudly that Pam heard her.  "Uh oh," Donna said.  She worried
that the lovely brunette would be angry, but instead Pam simply waved and
smiled as she rode up and down on Fred's cock.



   Keith waved back at her, and Donna-not knowing what else to do-did the
same.



   "You see," he said to her.  "You were making a big deal out of nothing.
Pam doesn't mind." He returned both hands to her smooth belly and began to
sensually rub his palms up and down the entire plain of the flat
abdomen-from her ribs to her pubic hair.  "I willing to bet that you're so
innocent, you've never tried a doggy position, have you?"



   She was ashamed to say, "No.  I haven't." "Well, it's time for you to
have another lesson in fucking from your new neighbor.  Just bend forward a
little so I can slide in."



   She was surprised when she felt his erection.  "Do you mean to say that
you're hard again?  Already?"



   "Um huh," he replied while drawing her pelvis back and upward slightly
so that she was in a more appropriate position for intercourse.  She felt
the head of his penis touch her opening and said, "Wow!  I didn't know that
a man could go again so soon.  Fred usually needs two hours before he's
rejuvenated."



   "Since you're such a pretty little thing, I'm surprised that he doesn't
have his dick buried in you all of the time."



   "Well, he doesn't have one in me now," she said she leaned over, hoisted
her ass, and spread her legs.  She wanted the entry to be easy and without
difficulty.



   He began to slowly work the head of his cock into her.  As he slid
forward he said, "You know, when I first saw you I wondered how tight you
were."



   "Now you know," she teased.



   "I also wondered if you were a natural blonde."



   "Obviously," she replied as she wiggled her pelvis upon his rod.



   "And I was also curious to know if I could feel my penis burrowing into
you through your tiny waist."



   "I don't know about that, but you're welcome to feel all you want.  Just
promise me one thing."



   "What?"



   "That you won't withdraw when you ejaculate.  I loved it when I felt you
splash me last time."



   He kissed her on the back of the head.  "Your wish is my command, dear
lady."



   She loved the sensation of being screwed from behind.  It was totally
different than the missionary position.  And the warm water of the pool,
occasionally splashing against her groin, heightened the experience.



   She rested her chin on her crossed forearms and watched Pam screw Fred.
She was surprised to learn that the longer she looked at the brunette, the
more beautiful she appeared.  She wondered what it would be like to make it
with another woman.  Earlier in the day she believed that she'd never sit
next to a negro, much less fuck him twice in a swimming pool.  Now that
she'd broken through that silly taboo, she yearned to topple others which
were equally ridiculous.  Why shouldn't she try it-just once-to see what it
would be like?  Maybe she could talk Pam into it.  Maybe she would enjoy
the taste of pussy as much as she enjoyed the feel of big black cock.



   Keith was looking down at Donna's backside and watching the water splash
over her ivory skin.  He loved the way her lower back was shaped, incurving
and with sinewy muscles beneath the flesh.  He also liked the little
dimples situated where her kidneys were.  "Have you ever been fucked in the
ass?" he asked.



   She misunderstood his question and said, "That's what you're doing now,
isn't it?"



   "I don't mean vaginal intercourse."



   "Oh?" she said, somewhat confused, before exclaiming, "Oh!  You mean
that!"



   "Yes.  A genuine butt-fuck, or as they call it on the West Coast, A San
Francisco treat'."



   "You made that up," she laughed.



   "So what if I did?  It's a good line."



   "There's many things that I want to experience, but I don't think that's
one of them."



   He whispered in her ear, "Earlier today you didn't think that you would
enjoy an evening with me, right?"



   She gulped and answered, "Yes.  I admit it.  I was prejudiced."



   "Do you admit that prejudice is stupid?"



   "Yes."



   "Then it's also stupid to regard anal sex as taboo.  Now, I'm going to
withdraw from your cunt and put my dick in your ass, and I won't take 'no'
for an answer.  Do you understand?"



   She was suddenly quite fearful.  She had barely gotten used to his
mammoth penis buried in her vagina.  How was she supposed to grow
accustomed to it in her virgin asshole?  Surely she would be ripped in half
from the experience.



   She looked over her shoulder and pleaded, "Please don't.  Let's continue
to make love like we're doing now.  I don't want to have anal sex. 
Please."



   Even as she was pleading, she knew it was too late.  He was already
withdrawing from her vagina and holding her in place for an assault on her
rectum.  She knew it was going to hurt.  She knew she was going to bleed.
She'd probably see a red cloud rise from between her legs and discolor the
entire pool.  She braced herself for the assault.



   He tapped her on the shoulder and said, "You're going to have to relax.
You're so tense that I couldn't get a Q-tip into you."



   "I don't want to do it."



   "Will you just do as I say?  Everything will be fine."



   "Do you ever do this with your wife, or is this just a fantasy that I've
been chosen to fulfill?"



   He sensed the sarcasm in her voice.  "Pam and I have been performing
anally for years.  To tell you the truth, she's the one who turned me on to
it, not vice versa."



   That news made Donna relax.  "Really?" she asked, somewhat surprised.



   "Yes.  Before I knew what I was doing, I thought of anal intercourse
like you-ugly and painful.  But there's a lot of techniques that can
heighten the experience tremendously.  And there are sexual sensations
which can only be achieved through rear entry."



   She was thinking.  Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.  "Well, I'll
agree only under one condition."



   "What's that?"



   "That you stop if I say that it's becoming too painful."



   "You mean like if you scream loud enough to wake up the dead."



   She laughed.  "Yes.  That'll be your cue to halt."



   "Agreed."



   At long last she wiggled her ass back for her introduction to sodomy. 
He reached down and spread the white cheeks of her ass.  He always liked to
check out a woman's sphincter before shoving his dick in.



   "My goodness," he exclaimed.  "You have a very pretty asshole."



   "Do you say that to all the women, or only the ones who you invite for a
butt-fuck?"



   He chuckled.  "I'm not kidding.  It looks like a little rosebud and
there's no unsightly discoloration around it whatsoever.  I admire that in
a female."



   "I'll have to put it on my resume."



   "Pam's is also pretty, but it's darker than yours-in the same manner
that her nipples are darker than yours."



   "We should make a scientific study of women to see if those things
correlate," she teased.  "Maybe we could get a government agency to fund
us."



   Keith was having fun with her.  She had loosened up considerably in the
past few minutes.  He quickly took the initiative by placing his penis at
her anal entrance and gently pressing.



   She did feel a slight bit of pain as the sphincter muscle expanded in an
unaccustomed fashion in order to allow him entry.  She bit her lower lip
and decided to concentrate on the up and down movements of Pam instead of
what was happening in her posterior.  Maybe by looking elsewhere, she could
avoid the pain of the here and now.



   Incredibly, Donna saw that Fred was still going at it with Pam.  He was
still hard and buried deeply in the lovely brunette.  Donna didn't
understand how he could hold off for so long, until she realized that the
woman-on-top position allowed the female to control events.  Hence, it
wasn't Fred who was holding back, it was Pam.



   Surprisingly enough, Donna had noticed that the warm water of the
swimming pool, and Keith's expertise had kept the pain of anal entry to a
minimum.



   "Are you hurting?" he asked, somewhat concerned.



   "No.  Not really.  It's...not bad, actually."



   "Well, wait until I push another couple of inches into you, then tell
me." He did as he promised, slowly and purposely, working in and out with
little strokes.



   She gritted her teeth, but she didn't mind it.  When he had one-half of
his shaft up her rectum she said, "It's different.  Personally, I don't
think that it's as good as vaginal intercourse-but that's only an opinion."



   "Just give it a chance.  Wait a while."



   He began moving his rod into and out of her with increasing gusto.  He
couldn't get over how tight she was in her rear-even tighter than she was
up front.  She definitely had a virgin ass.



   Each time he drove in, her asscheeks would shake a little and the
muscles in her back would ripple.  Because she was so firm, her body didn't
shake like gelatin, but rather with nice little waves.



   "Ohh!" she moaned.



   That was music to his ears.  It meant that he had crossed over the
threshold.  It meant that she was no longer experiencing pain.  From now on
it would be purely pleasurable for both of them.



   He began his jackhammer rhythm.  However, he was careful not to become
to wild.  After all, he didn't want her little virginal hole to ache too
much from her first coupling.



   In only a matter of moments it was over.  He felt triumphant-she felt
exhilarated.  He had shot another load into her body.  She had taken it
into a different hole.



   They slowly crawled over to the pool steps and sat.  He leaned back, and
she rested her head on his shoulder.  They were just sitting there,
exhausted, when Pam stepped over and said, "Well, it looks like you two had
fun."



   Donna looked up into her eyes and smiled, "Yes.  We did."



   "Did you enjoy the dark meat?"



   Donna made sure that Fred couldn't overhear her say, "You were right. 
Variety does make a difference.  Really."



   Pam squatted down and spread her thighs wide so that Donna could see up
between them to all of the pubic area.  "And your hubby wasn't too bad
either."



   "Mmm.  I'm glad."



   Pam stepped into the pool and stood beside the blonde.  She leaned over
and kissed her on the forehead.  "There's only one thing that we have to do
before we call it an evening."



   Donna knew what Pam was referring to.



   Chapter 10



   Pam took Donna to the far side of the pool so that they could be alone.
She turned the blonde toward her and said, "Earlier in the evening I asked
you if you had ever made love with a black man, and you said, 'No'.  Now
I'm asking, "Have you ever made love with a woman?



   Donna had been expecting the question all evening.  She had anticipated
that it would eventually arise.  She looked deeply into her friend's eyes
and softly replied, "No."



   Pam leaned close to her and lightly pressed her nose against Donna's. 
She gently wiggled it back and forth Eskimo fashion, and said, "You cute
little thing.  You've got a real treat in store for you."



   She brought her cheek against the blonde's and whispered in her ear, "I
think that you've got the most beautiful body I've ever seen.  I've been
turned on by it ever since I first saw you."



   Donna was feeling giddy.  The brunette was standing so close that her
breasts were starting to mash into hers.  Their nipples were starting to
poke into each other.  The plains of their bellies were beginning to slide
against each other.



   Pam had reached down between them, and with the palm of her hand began
to lightly stroke the blonde's pubic mound.



   "Mmmm," moaned Donna.  "That feels so good."



   "I'm glad," Pam replied.  She kissed her on the cheek, and then on the
chin, and then fully on the lips.



   It was another new thrill for the blonde.  It was similar to being
kissed by a man, except softer, gentler, more knowing.  She soon noticed
that three of her erogenous zones were being stimulated at the same time.
Her lips, her nipples, and her clitoris.  And soon a fourth was added when
Pam reached behind with her other hand and touched the anus.



   "Mmmm," moaned Pam.  "I wonder if you taste as good as you look.  I
think that it's time to find out."



   She removed her lips from Donna's and kissed her way downward.  First
the tip of the chin, and then beneath the chin to the neck, and from there
to the tendons of her throat.



   From there she proceeded to the top of her cleavage.  And from there to
the upper slope of the fair-skinned breasts-first the left and then the
tight.  And from there to the aureole - first the right and then the left.
And from there to the nipples themselves-kissing, sucking, licking- first
the left and then the right.  And then she lightly bit into the strawberry
nipples with her front teeth, making sure not to harm, but being sure to
titillate.



   Donna began to shiver and moan.  Even though she was standing in the
warm water of the heated pool, delicious little goose bumps were welling on
her flesh.



   Pam placed both hands on the buttocks and pressed the blonde insistently
against her pelvis.  She began grinding her pubic mound against that of
Donna's.



   "Ohhh!" moaned Donna.  "Ohhh!  That feels so good."



   Pam gave the right nipple one last flick with her tongue before
continuing the trail of kisses downward.  She kept her tongue extended as
she lathered her way beneath the underside of the breast.  The flesh was so
marvelous here.  So perfect.  She ran her tongue along the juncture of the
breast and the chest, following the crescent line for its entire length. 
She kissed the very top of the abdomen, and then the center of it, and then
the belly button itself.



   Once there, she put her tongue into the crater and washed it with her
lingual appendage.



   "Ohhh!" moaned Donna as her tummy and navel began to move in and out
involuntarily, yet deliciously.



   The region from the navel to the upper thighs was the real reason for a
woman's existence.  And Donna's was about as beautiful as they came.



   Pam leaned back slightly and looked as the water from the pool lapped at
the blonde pubic mound in front of her.  Little droplets of water beaded on
the hair.  She thought that Donna's mid-section was a wonder of creation.
Everything from her firm little tummy to the middle of her thighs
accentuated the glorious space between her legs.



   No wonder men were so attracted to this region of a woman's body.  No
wonder they developed erections whenever they gazed at it.  No wonder
hard-ons sprang to life.  No doubt most men fantasized about a woman like
this.



   "Oh, you're so beautiful," said Pam as she moved her face closer to the
blonde garden of delight.  In the same way that Donna had earlier exalted
the wonders of Keith's dick, now Pam exalted the beauty of Donna's
snatch-over and over and over again.



   Donna tilted her pelvis forward slightly, so that Pam might have a
better, more appreciative view of her object of lust.  And yet Donna
herself was extremely aware of her own beauty.  The compliments which had
been paid to her, had heightened her self-esteem, and made her realize that
she wanted this lifestyle.  As she felt Pam's tongue dip into her moist
recesses, she realized that she would never go back to the old ways.  From
now on she was a hedonist-a true-blue uninhibited enjoyer of sex.



   With her hands she reached between her thighs and spread her cuntal
lips, making it easier for Pam to find access to the entire gash.



   "Ohhh!" she moaned as the lips of the brunette encircled the clitoris
and began to suck on the little nub.



   "Mmmm!  So good," sighed Pam.  "So extremely good."



   "Ohhh!" moaned Donna.  "Ohhh!  Please continue.  Forever.  Don't ever
stop."



   Pam licked her way down the slit to the vaginal opening itself, and then
lower to the midway point between the anus and the cuntal hole.  And once
there, she flicked her tongue around the very middle of the perineum,
licking this smooth bottommost point of Donna's upper body.



   The blonde couldn't help herself.  Her entire body HI shook and she
sighed, "Ahhh!" She had achieved her first orgasm from a woman.  She knew
now that there was no turning back to her former puritanical ways.



   To celebrate, she sat down on one of the steps in the pool, leaned back
on her elbows, and spread her long legs wide apart.  She broke into a broad
smile and said, "Come and get it, Pam.  It's all yours."



   Both Keith and Fred saw what was taking place in the pool.  They looked
at each other and smiled.  They immediately got to their feet and rushed
forward, diving headfirst into the water, and swimming hurriedly to where
the women were.



   Fred came up behind Pam and bit her on the ass.



   "Ow!" she said, momentarily stopping her lingual tasting of Donna's
cunt. She turned and saw that he had placed his hands on her outthrust ass
and was positioning himself for anal intercourse.  She smiled and said,
"Good for you." She arched her back so that he could have an easier time
with entry.



   Keith, meanwhile, had stepped in front of Donna.  He looked at her and
said, "Here doll.  Have a black lollipop to suck on."



   "That's no lollipop," she said, teasingly.  "That's a black dick.  I
know one when I see one."



   "My goodness, you're smart," he said.  "You must have scored very highly
on the SAT test."



   "I suppose those initials stand for 'Sucking and Tonguing'."



   "How about a blow job, Donna?" "I don't know how."



   Keith didn't believe that he had heard correctly.  "Do you mean to tell
me that a lovely woman like yourself has never given her husband a blow
job?"



   She looked down and said, "I'm sorry.  Fred and I have never really
experienced much."



   "My word, darling!" exclaimed Pam between tongue flicks.  "Didn't you
know that there was a sexual revolution which took place in this country
about thirty years ago.  Surely you've heard about it?"



   "I'm from a small town.  News travels slow to the rural areas of
America."



   Keith smiled and looked lovingly into her eyes.  "Wouldn't you say that
it's about time that you learned how to give head?"



   She giggled like a child, "Is that what it's called?  'Giving head'?"



   "There are many names, my dear.  But you can learn them after you learn
how to use your mouth and your lips on my flesh.  Now, bend down and give
it a soft kiss."



   She looked at it and admired the satiny crown.  The black skin was drawn
tightly over it.  She knew that only a few scant fractions of a millimeter
below the skin, the lifeblood of this man pulsed.  With that thought in
mind, she lowered her head slowly.  She licked her lips, moistening them,
readying them.  She closed her eyes, wanting the sensations of touch and
taste to override that of sight.



   He watched her face turn downward in supplication to his throbbing
shaft, and the buoyant blonde hair flow down to frame her face.



   She inhaled deeply and smelled his musky scent.



   He watched her and asked, "Do I smell different than your husband?"



   "Yes.  Mmmm.  You smell more of the forest and the earth."



   "That's all those cotton fields my ancestors worked in for you folks,"
he joked, half-seriously.



   She touched the tip of her white nose to the tip of his black shaft. 
She lovingly nudged the different-colored appendages together several
times.



   He found this very erotic.  Pam had never done this to him before-and
she usually thought of everything.



   Donna let the shaft slip down to the space between her nose and her
upper lip.  She gently planted a kiss on his pee hole.



   "Hey!  That's right.  You're a natural at this.  Are you sure that
you've never given your hubby a blow job?"



   "No.  Never."



   He turned and asked Fred, who was watching, "Has she?"



   "She's telling the truth," he replied.  "She's never done that with me."



   "Maybe it's instinctive with the female gender," Keith said.  "Maybe
women have a blow job gene which surfaces when they need to use it."



   "That's silly," Donna laughed.



   "Not really.  Babies instinctively know how to suck on their mother's
nipples, don't they?"



   "That's different."



   "No it isn't.  Just pretend that my dick's a big dark nipple that
contains a warm liquid drink if you suck on it long enough.  Go on.  Wrap
those lovely pink lips around my shaft and nurse me like an infant would."



   She placed both lips upon the organ and began to oval her mouth.



   "Yes.  That's it!" he exclaimed.  "Indeed, you are a natural."



   "Mmmmph!" she replied with her mouth stuffed.  "Don't worry about
answering me, just do as I say." "Mmmmph!"



   "Now extend your tongue and moisten that part of the shaft which is
already in your mouth." She did as she was told.



   "That's very good.  Gently bite into the flesh with your front teeth. 
But remember-not too hard."



   She bit into him several times and removed her mouth.  "How was that?"
she asked.



   "Good.  Except that a well experienced fellatrix never takes her mouth
off of the penis.  Keep your lips on the organ at all times."



   "Wait a minute.  I have to catch my breath sometime."



   "You learn to breathe through your nose, silly."



   "Like me," said Pam from between Donna's widespread thighs.



   Keith pointed to his wife and said, "See.  She's learned how to eat and
talk at the same time.  That's what you've got to do."



   Within only a matter of moments, the two couples had a foursome going.
Fred was drilling into Pam's olive complexioned rear end.  Pam was lapping
away at Donna's blonde-fringed hole.  Donna was avidly sucking on Keith's
black cock.  And Keith was alternately playing with Pam's and Donna's
breasts, feeling and comparing, stroking and tweaking.



   They all fucked and sucked, and sucked and fucked, until they literally
wore themselves out.



   In the end, they all admitted that they had learned a great deal from
the experience.



   Keith had learned that extramarital sex had heightened his appreciation
for his wife.  He had enjoyed using Donna's blonde and fair-skinned little
body, but Pam was still the woman for him.  Without her, he would be
nothing.  Donna however, was a nice treat.  He would enjoy screwing her
regularly in the future, for they had all agreed to spend Fridays and
Saturdays having pool parties together.



   Fred had learned that a woman should be allowed to experiment sexually.
If she didn't, she ran the risk of becoming bored, and having her marriage
become stale.  He loved his wife with all his heart, and nothing could
replace her.  Still, he found Pam to be a scrumptious sexual tigress, which
he hoped his wife would increasingly emulate.  From the looks of things, it
appeared that Pam would be a willing teacher.



   Pam had learned that not all white guys were dorks.  Even though Fred
could never replace her Keith, he was nice, fun, and a pleasant sexual
partner.  And his smaller size and body mass meant that she could attempt a
few positions that she couldn't with Keith because he was so large.  Most
importantly, Fred would come in handy when she needed both of her holes
filled.  It would be nice to have two penises burrowing into her at the
same time instead of one.



   Donna, of course, had learned the most of all.  She had finally learned
that racial prejudice was ridiculous.  Since she had now opened up to the
full tang of sexual experience, she realized that black men could just as
easily fill her needs as whites.  Still, she wasn't about ready to invite
the local pro basketball team over to ball her.  After all, now in the
1990's there were too many venereal diseases floating around for the Era of
Free Love to return.  She would have to be satisfied with Keith.  But what
a lucky break to live next door to a handsome black man with a twelve-inch
dick, a six- inch tongue, and a beautiful bisexual wife.



   She had also learned not to limit the act of love to men.  Pam had
provided her with a thrill which she never dreamed possible.  Whenever she
saw the lovely brunette, or thought of her, her vagina would ooze a droplet
of moisture and her labia would twitch with anticipation.



   There was little doubt that from now on she would be a sexually
satisfied woman and that Springdale would always be her home.



   THE END