70s Confession

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A young married white woman reflects on her black experience.
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Most of my story takes place in the 1970's. If you don't like interracial sex, dominance and submission, cheating wives and such, I suggest you still read it. You might just learn how things really do happen. Names have been changed but the story is essentially true as I remember it.

I'm Pam. I met my first and only husband, Hugh, in the fourth grade at a parochial school in Southern California. By seventh grade we were going steady. Things were different back then. We were both advanced as far as our physical maturity. I was already a 36-24-36 C-cup at 5'2". In the interest of total honesty, closer to 5'1". Hugh always claimed I was built for sex!!

He was admittedly biased but the guys did pay me a lot of attention. My husband to be was already a six-footer and a strapping young man who had earned the respect of the "tough" guys in the area the hard way. I would share some of our experiences during that time except anything before our 18th birthdays is considered unacceptable writing today on the stories sites. That said, at eighteen, right out of high school, we got married. Why? Because we were so in love!

I should let you know that Hugh went off to public high school while I went to an exclusive Catholic girl's school. Despite the fact that Hugh was brought up in a large economically disadvantaged family, while mine was comfortably middle class, our relationship then was just about perfect. Sex was constant and we were always finding ways to make it more exciting! Once I started having sex with Hugh I was addicted to it. I was ready any time and virtually any place. There are stories I could tell but will save for another time, if you're interested. The only negative I can remember was that the girls were always flirting with Hugh, blatantly trying to lure him away from me. I would get extremely jealous even though he was completely devoted to me. It was only much later in life, after we'd gone through so much, that I came to appreciate how good he'd been for so long putting up with my jealousy.

For almost four years after marriage life was good for us despite having to struggle to make ends meet. Hugh had entered the defense industry and worked his way up to a decent paying job that offered regular overtime. We bought our first house in the eastern part of the L.A. area because that was one of the few places where we could afford it. It was a nice family neighborhood. The drawback was that Hugh had to get up at 5AM every morning to make the two-hour drive to his job near the coast, then drive another two hours through the evening rush hour to get home. Add the 2 hours of overtime he worked Monday through Thursday and he was gone at least fourteen hours a day! He would come home exhausted! Our sex life, which had always been awesome, began to suffer. As young and virile as he was, the pace, week after week, month after month, was draining him! We were pretty much reduced to morning sex on Saturday and Sunday. Even Saturday was mostly about me giving him a blowjob. Don't get me wrong, I love doing that, but the toll on him was starting to have an effect.

Looking back, I realized that how my life was unfolding exacerbated the stress. I would get up in the morning, see Hugh off after giving him a quick breakfast and packing him a lunch. Still early in the morning I would go for a jog, then come home and do a workout routine. I kept the house immaculate, but that took little effort. Hugh wasn't there to mess it up and once I cleaned it was easy to maintain. Maybe twice a week I'd grocery shop. I didn't feel right clothes shopping or doing anything else that cost money because I knew how hard Hugh was working to support us. That left me with hours and hours of free time. I was growing bored. Around midday I would lay out in the backyard in my bikini for an hour or so. I had a great tan and my dishwater blonde hair was soon streaked with gold. I still had hours to kill. Frankly, I was naive at that age. Instead of bettering myself by going to school or self-teaching through reading, I was paying more attention to the physical than I really needed to. Then, wouldn't you know it, Hugh had his overtime increased to a half day Saturday!! That helped financially but now we barely ever saw each other. I used to wait as long as I could stay awake for him to get home. Now he was sometimes so late I'd fall asleep watching tv and only get up to fall into bed with him. More often I was going to bed without waiting. One day soon after his added hours started I had a brilliant idea!

Saturday Hugh had to go to work for 4 more hours but at least he made it home by 2PM. Later we relaxed and barbequed some burgers and drank a few glasses of wine. I was happy to see him mellowing out and decided to pitch my idea.

"Babe, what do you think of me getting a part time job? I've already called about an ad I saw for a cosmetics salesclerk job at Ward's department store. They're interested. I told them I could probably work Monday through Thursday nights, eight hour shifts. I can schedule an interview Monday if you think it's OK."

"Hmmmm, how much does it pay?"

"I'm not sure. Probably not much. They probably won't tell me unless I interview. The thing is, I know cosmetics and perfumes and stuff like that pretty well."

"And you are dynamite looking. Damn, they'd be crazy not to hire you."

"So you think it's OK for me to try out?"

"If that's what you want to do, baby, go ahead."

"Just think, I can save for a vacation! Wouldn't it be nice to get away for a while?"

Hugh laughed. "Yeah, if I can ever get a break from work!"

"I know, honey. I'll work hard if I get the job so we can take a break together."

That night I leisurely sucked him until he finally rolled me over and fucked me. The good sex and my possible new job had me all excited and feeling good!

Sunday morning sex was good, too.

I called the human resources department (although they were just "employment" back then) first thing Monday morning and they told me the where and who for a 2PM appointment. I think I was one of three applicants and they hired two of us for the cosmetics department, me for nights and the other girl for day shift. The lady who interviewed me said that being so attractive was a big plus in Cosmetics. They asked if I could start the next day and I instantly said I could. I was given all the usual employment information, my hours (4 to 12:30), my duties, (which included making sure everything was accounted for and set up for the next day) and the dress code. Dress or blouse and skirt, clean, stylish and color-coordinated. I laughed when the employment lady asked if I was colorblind. She said she didn't think so given that I was dressed so nicely.

I was floating on air on my way home. As soon as I got in I called Hugh with the news. He congratulated me, then said he was off to a meeting and he was going to be late again that night. I didn't see him until the next morning when I handed him his lunch and kissed him goodbye. By three-thirty I was ready to go, and had to admit, looking pretty fine. Only telling the truth!

At the store, I reported to my new boss in his office. He was a nicely dressed black man in his early forties named Dwayne Lee. After a little chit chat he reiterated the expectations and took me to the cosmetics department. The lady who worked the dayshift had stayed over to explain the particulars of the job. Seriously, this was going to be a piece of cake. Mr. Lee watched our exchange, then asked if I had any questions. I answered no and he told me to come see him if I needed assistance. With that he left and I went to work. The first four hours were moderately busy but I handled it with ease. Time flew by! At lunch break I went to my car to eat and listen to the radio. Employees were instructed to park in a designated area at the edge of the lot so there was very little activity around me. After lunch business was slow until the store closed, then there was a flurry of busy work until my shift was over. I had been told I could expect this pattern on the nights I worked. The rest of the week went the same.

Other than seeing him asleep and for a few minutes in the mornings I hardly saw Hugh at all. Even our Sunday got screwed up because Hugh was now working on an extremely urgent project that required him to work all day Saturday which made Sunday the only day he had to take care of things around the house like the yard, small repairs, and the cars. Things improved financially, but time together was in real short supply. My job became virtually my only adult communal outlet. At least that was going well. My morning and early afternoon were pretty much the same except that with Hugh and I both gone so much the house was even easier to keep up.

Monday and Tuesday were repeats of my first week. I was in the routine of taking my lunch in the car and listening to the radio. On Wednesday night when I went to my car there was a gleaming black '56 Oldsmobile parked next to me. As I settled in to eat lunch I tuned in the radio, then looked up to see, of all people, Mr. Lee getting in the Olds. I already had my windows rolled down so I called out, "Mr. Lee, is that your car? It sure is a beauty!"

"Well hello, Pam. Thank you, yes, it is. And technically we're not at work when we're on our lunch break so call me Dwayne."

"You keep that car in great shape, Dwayne."

"It's my baby, Pam."

Dwayne got into his car and it became obvious he was spending his lunch break the same way I was, eating a packed lunch and listening to music. When lunch was over we walked back into work while making small talk.

Thursday, we were parked next to each other again and exchanged brief pleasantries before settling into our cars.

The weekend saw no change at home. It was becoming frustrating.

The following Monday did see a change. When I went to my car Dwayne was already in his.

"Hey, Pam, why don't you join me in my car? There's plenty of room, they made these boats huge on the inside. Plus, I have an upgraded sound system that makes the tunes much more real!. I'll be happy to music share with you."

"Do you think it will be....OK?"

"Sure, but if you're uncomfortable...?

"No, no, I just wanted to make sure it's OK, you being my boss."

"Right now, I'm Dwayne. Hop in and listen to some righteous music." I did, and he was right, the sound was incredible for those times.

It became routine for me to share my lunchtime with Dwayne. One night we'd listen to his choice of music, the next mine. It was fun and I looked forward to lunch each shift. We started to talk about our lives, mostly me doing the talking while Dwayne asked questions. One night after about three weeks we were listening to some of "his" music when Barry White came on singing "Can't get Enough of Your Love".

I blurted out, "Oh, this song makes me tingle!"

"Yeah, he has that effect on a lot of women. Have you ever dated a black man, Pam?"

"Good Lord, no!"

"Why, the way you say that, are you prejudiced?"

"No, no, it's not that."

"What is it then, honey?"

"I've just never had the opportunity. I mean I've only been with one man since grade school, my husband. I have no experience with black people at all. I went to an all-white parochial grade school, an all-girls Catholic high school, then I got married."

"So your experience is pretty limited. Do you think you're prejudiced against blacks?"

"The truth is, I don't know. I don't think so. I just never gave it any thought. I support equal rights."

Dwayne laughed. "Pam, don't feel like you have to be cautious. This is just a conversation between you and Dwayne. No pressure. But you said Barry makes you tingle. What does that mean?"

"His voice is so sexy. The words flow like warm honey from his lips."

"Do you think black men are so different from white men?"

"I know you look different, obviously. It also seems that many more of you are bigger, more muscular."

"Some whites would say our lips are different. Do you think that's true?"

I looked closely at Dwayne's lips. "I don't have a lot of examples to go by. Yours look different. I guess fuller than most white people."

Dwayne laughed," So do you think we kiss differently?"

Again, I looked at his lips closely. "I don't know, maybe."

"One way to find out, girl. Come on over here and kiss me."

"Uh."

"One little kiss and you'll have an answer to your question."

I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. "I guess one kiss wouldn't hurt." I moved over close to him. When he bent down I gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"That wasn't a real kiss. I barely felt it. How can you get your answer that way?"

"OK," I moved close again and as our lips met he gently but firmly pulled me closer. Our kiss lasted longer and I realized I felt that tingle again.

"That was nice, Pam. Was it different?"

"It was nice and maybe a little different."

"Good girl. Now try it again" I ignored the little warning bells in my head and leaned into him. This kiss was warm and wet and then I felt his tongue push into my mouth. I didn't resist. We ended up making out until it was time to go back to work. At work, it wasn't Dwayne, it was Mr. Lee. He made no reference to our make out session and treated me no differently. Truth be told, I really saw little of him during my shift.

The next evening I was a little nervous wondering if I should go to my car instead of his. But when I approached I thought I should explain why it was best we had lunch separately. Before I got a word out Dwayne smiled and opened his door for me. As I slid into his huge front seat (those old cars really were roomy) he put his arm around me and drew me close. Again, I did not resist. Instead I lifted my lips to his with eagerness, surprising myself. It felt good to be the object of a man's attention, even a black man. And what could a few kisses hurt? We were kissing wetly and passionately when I felt his big hand on my breast. I started to pull away but Dwayne held me close. He whispered in my ear, "Calm down, Pam. Look at my hand."

I looked down and saw his dark hand squeezing my breasts, one, then the other. It was super erotic!

"Unbutton your blouse." I did, down to my navel.

"That's a pretty bra but you need to unsnap it so we can both watch my black hand on your full white tits." I was caught up in a whirlpool of lust by then and I reached back to unsnap my bra. As it fell forward my mounds were fully exposed. I watched his dark fingers squeeze and fondle me and I pressed my lips to his again. I was kissing him over and over now, pushing my tongue into his mouth. All the while he was ravaging my breasts, pulling and twisting my nipples which were now hard as pencil erasers! He broke our kiss. "It's time."

"Time for what?" I was gasping for breath at that point.

"To go back to work. You have soft beautiful breasts. They feel so good in my hands. Now get yourself together. Time to work." I quickly got my mind and clothes back in control but was conscious of a dampness between my thighs.

As we walked back to the store Dwayne said, "Pam, you are very attractive but you should understand that you represent an image to our customers. You need to wear skirts and dresses a little tighter and shorter, and just a touch more makeup. Sex sells, sugar. Sell!"

The next morning, I spent some time looking through magazines for makeup ideas. I was kinda confounded by Dwayne's suggestion I wear shorter skirts. I mean, my legs are firm but they're not long and slender like those of a model. I did have a few dresses that were short, so I could wear those but I wasn't sure what Dwayne's objective was. I looked at myself in the mirror with a critical eye. The way I wore my makeup had always suited me well. The more I thought about it I began to realize that if my job was to sell makeup I could use a little more skilled application. Dwayne was right, women wear makeup to look sexier, so I resolved to look sexier. That afternoon when I went to work I had a little more makeup on and my dress showed a couple of inches more leg. I had to admit that I did feel sexier. What I didn't realize was that even though Dwayne's reasoning to me made sense, he had a different agenda for the changes that he had more or less ordered.

As I worked through the first half of my shift it did seem as though the changes in my appearance were affecting the way I dealt with customers. I was even more confident and engaging. My sales were up, too. I thought, maybe Dwayne is on to something, after all he is the manager. He was on to something all right.

That evening when I went to lunch Dwayne was not in is car. I was more disappointed than I would have guessed I'd be. I had gotten used to our make out sessions. No, not used to them, more like looking forward to them. During the second half of my shift Dwayne did drop by my workstation to see if everything was OK. He also complimented me on my dress and make up.

"Good girl, Pam. You look fine, and I notice you've been selling a little more. Mr. Lee knows what he's doing, right, girl?" Meanwhile he was looking me over with a gleam in his eye. I felt a flush come over me.

"I was caught on a long business call so I missed having lunch. Then he whispered, "Did you miss Dwayne, baby?"

I was surprised he was speaking to me this way in the store but I couldn't help but murmur, "Yes, I missed Dwayne".

"That's good, that's real good."

The next evening Dwayne was in his car when I went to lunch. I joined him and we were soon kissing hungrily.

"Baby, touch my cock."

"Oh, Dwayne, I don't know...."

"Hey, has anything I've done so far been bad? Fact is you like what we been doing, right?"

"Yes."

"Well then, just rub it a little. It won't bite, I promise." So, while I was snuggled up close to him and we were kissing I placed my hand on his crotch. I felt him bulging through his slacks."

"That does feel good. You should look at it. You ain't never seen a black cock, am I right?"

"No, I've actually only seen two adult cocks in person."

"Let me give you a good look. You can see if there's any difference between mine and those other two." Dwayne opened his slacks and it was apparent he wasn't wearing any underwear. He pulled his slacks down past his knees. There it was. To my inexperienced eyes, it was like a menacing dark snake at first. I could see it was bigger than the others I'd seen but it was nothing like those monstrous dicks I saw in photos later in my life. I wrapped my fist around its warm thickness, the veins prominent. It looked to be an inch or two longer than Hugh's and a little fatter.

"Come on, Pam, look closer. You may only get one chance so make the most of it!"

I bent closer to his lap and noticed that the ridges and seams showed more pronounced sheathed in dark skin.

"Stroke it, baby. See how it feels." My fist caressed his shaft. I felt him grow harder. "So, girl, what do you think? Is it different?"

"It is. It's bigger than the others and, don't take this the wrong way, it looks nastier." I was getting wound up.

"That's because it is. Go ahead, you can kiss the head of my nasty black cock. Then you'll know how it tastes, too."

Oh, I was so close to it. Maybe one little kiss would be ok. How wicked that would be, my lips touching a big black dick! In that moment, I wanted to be a little wicked so l leaned in and kissed the tip.

"Don't lie to me now! Did you taste my dick?" I had to admit I did not. "Well wrap those pretty lips around the head." I did. More wicked. This time I could taste him. Hmmm. He was hot on my lips. I touched my tongue to his pee hole. Still more wicked. "Oh, hell", I thought. I may as well take him in deeper. I slid my lips up and down several times taking him a little deeper each occasion. Damn, it felt good to have a big cock in my mouth. The biggest I'd ever had! I felt like such a slut sucking my boss's cock, in a parking lot, me being married, and him being so much older and black! There was no turning back. My head rested on his thighs as I struggled to get more of him in me.