Black Man One Ch. 04

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White wimp, snobby white group finally see Black Man One.
5.8k words
4.05
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Part 4 of the 27 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 10/11/2011
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On the weekend before the Fourth of July holiday in 2009, the wives had an idea. They had been talking about making it a special "get together" this time, in honor of the holiday. This particular year would be an extended holiday weekend due to the fact the 3rd of the month fell on a Friday and the 4th fell on a Saturday.

Most businesses would be closed on either the Friday before or the Monday after. The different companies that all of us worked for were no exception. This made it a perfect time to take a full four day weekend, and all 13 of us white husbands agreed.

Karen, who was one of the wives, even posted a "flyer" on the glass entry door leading from the parking lot to remind us all that breakfast would start at 10 o'clock.

Our beautiful younger white wives seemed so excited to do something different. Basically, we just went along with their idea because it meant so much to them. They had planned to cater in or prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner for all four of these days, Friday through Monday.

The wives were following through with their plans to set up catering tables alongside the pool with extra coolers and decorations to promote the holiday. They purchased most of the food from the catering company, like Brazilian steaks, shark steaks and elaborate kabobs. They added tiki styled torch lights for the evenings, and surrounded the entire pool area with them. Wine, wine coolers and dozens of bottles of champagne would add to the somewhat "snobby" and moderately expensive event.

In addition to this all of our wives went out and purchased new bikinis. I think they all bought at least 3 new ones each. All of their bikinis were various styles and patterns of the red, white and blue, or the stars and stripes. The wives added sparklers and other mild forms of fireworks. They even purchased new pairs of swim trucks for the husbands in the same american color patterns.

This weekend was designed to be a nice, friendly and relaxing four day event for all thirteen white couples.

This was only the beginning.

On Friday the 3rd at 10 o'clock in the morning I stepped into my new red, white and blue swim trucks and headed out for the pool. As always, I passed through the rarely used workout center and gym. It was a bright and sunny day as I stepped out onto the marble stoned deck that surrounded the entire private pool area.

My wife, Julie, had gone down to the pool a half hour earlier. She had been helping Megan, Tammy and Stacey get things ready for breakfast and setting up the tables and chairs. A few of the other white husbands had already arrived and were drinking a "mimosa," which is simply champagne and orange juice.

When I stepped out I could see the pretty wives in their new little bikinis and heeled sandals from afar. They all looked amazingly beautiful.

As I drew nearer, I heard most of them talking in heavier whispers as the women "busied" themselves to get things ready. The few husbands were just standing around and listening in to what seemed like an innocent form of women's gossip. There seemed to be a slight tension in the air for some unknown reason.

"What's going on?" I said, in my normal voice, which was louder than their whispers.

My wife turned to me and continued speaking in a whisper, almost as if she didn't want to be overheard by anyone outside the present group.

"Shush. Richard, did you hear?" she asked.

"Hear what?" I questioned, a slight smile on my lips.

"Well, we think that woman's boyfriend is back." she said.

"What woman? What are you talking about?" I asked, dumbfoundedly.

The other 3 white wives and husbands that were there at the time leaned in a little closer to us to listen to what they had already been talking about.

"That woman from unit one. You know, the one that Margaret said left when she got pregnant." Julie whispered.

"Oh, her." I returned, finally understanding.

"You mean she's back too?" I asked.

Tammy, one of the other white wives, broke into Julie's explanation.

"No, No. She's not here." Tammy whispered in frustration.

I was just not "getting it" so to speak.

"Just the boyfriend is, I think, and another woman." she continued, suspiciously.

I looked at Tammy confused, yet unconcerned. To me, this sounded like a bunch of gossip and nothing more. I didn't realize the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, how do you know that?" I asked.

One of the other wives, Stacey, then cut in.

"I was talking to Karen this morning. She called me and said heard something in the parking lot around 2:30 in the morning." Stacey tried explaining.

"Like what?" one of the other white husbands asked casually.

Three of the other white couples had just arrived as Stacey looked over to them. One of them was Karen and her husband, Ed.

"Karen, what did you see again?" Stacey asked.

Karen picked up the conversation from there.

"I guess I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure who they were. It was really dark and all, but I could see that it was a man and a woman getting out of a BMW and walking towards the building." Karen described.

Jennifer, the 41 year old wife of David, suddenly interupted.

"No, there were two cars." she corrected.

"One was a black Bentley and the other was red Mazda or something." she described.

"I saw the cars there this morning when I ran out for the ice." Jennifer finished.

"A Bentley? damn!" Ed stammered.

"Oh, okay. Well, whatever it was there are two people in unit one now." Julie said.

"Maybe it's just that same woman that left a couple months ago." I added.

Tammy then broke in, again.

"No, I don't think so. I think she's long gone. That's what Margaret, the building manager, told me." Tammy added.

The remaining white couples then arrived, perplexed and curious by the huddled group talking. The conversation continued in the same heavy whisper.

"I'm sure it's the ex-boyfriend living in there now. I've never seen him, but who else can it be?" Megan asked.

"I heard he took over the place. He hasn't been here, you mean?" Julie asked.

"No, never. I guess she always went to him. She never brought him by." Karen informed.

One of the other white husbands broke in while two of the white wives walked over to check on the breakfast.

"Yes, she was always alone. But, I think it was an abusive relationship." Tim added.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"I saw her once walking out to her car before she left. She was trying to hide her face. It looked like she had been slapped a lot, or pretty roughed up or something." Tim explained.

"Really?" Julie exclaimed.

"A very pretty woman. Gorgeous, in fact." Mark added.

"Oh, yes. She was so beautiful." Tammy said, chiming back in.

"So, she left when she got pregnant, right?" I asked.

Dave chimed in.

"No, she had been pregnant awhile." He said.

"That's right." Tim added. "She was like 7 months pregnant when she left a couple of months ago."

"Wow, I wonder what happened?" My wife pondered.

"The boyfriend was never here as far as I could tell. I've never seen him." Karen said.

"Me, neither." Megan added.

"I guess no one has. She wasn't here very long, and when she was here I didn't see her too often. She kept to herself a lot. I think she went to see him all the time." Stacey predicted.

"Well, if it's not her in there with him then who is it?" I asked.

"I have no idea. I think this is the first time he has been here. It sounded like they had an argument last night." Karen said.

"An argument?" Julie asked.

"Yes, I heard their voices. Mostly his. Sounded like he was yelling at her for something. I don't know." Karen explained.

"There was a lot of noise for like an hour after that but I didn't hear their voices anymore." she added.

"Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough." Tim said.

"Yeah, I guess so." I thought, curiously.

This seemingly ridiculous little gossip circle began to fizzle out as everyone became lost in thought. I was glad that Mark finally just came out and told everyone to just forget about it.

"Let's just eat okay? I'm tired of talking about this already." he said.

And, we did.

Our beautiful bikini clad wives prepared plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns with muffins from the catered tin trays. Even the paper plates were designed in red, white and blue colors.

All 13 white couples were sitting around on our beach styled chaise lounge chairs and deck chairs. The few glass top deck tables held some of the group's plates. The wives had set them up in a scattered form of a semi circle so everyone could see each other while they ate.

The small talk continued.

"Wow, a Bentley huh?" one husband remarked.

"That ex-boyfriend must have a little money then." David laughed.

"Impressive." Tim added.

We were not even half way through our catered ritzy breakfast when the conversation suddenly stopped. And, it stopped abruptly.

The white men and women facing me as we sat in this semi circle had a look of awe on their faces as they stopped talking. They were the ones facing in the direction of the glass door leading to the large pool area we occupied.

When I turned ever so slightly to my right, my jaw literally dropped. I was now looking at this well built black man stepping out onto the marbled deck of the condo's pool area.

It was him! It was "Black Man One."

His real name was Tra'mon, and he was the supposed "ex" boyfriend of that 30-something year old beautiful blonde woman we had heard so much about - the one who we were told left our condo community 2 months before. All I know is that I was in total disbelief as he entered the area about 10 yards from the group.

I am positive that everyone else was, too.

He couldn't have been more than 25 years old. He was a somewhat darker-skinned athletic black man who stood only an average 5'9" tall, yet his ultra sculpted and streamlined 187 lb. body frame absolutely "reeked" of masculine strength and power.

This younger black stud had a chiseled jaw line and a very stern looking face. He showed almost no emotion. His dark-skinned muscles glistened in the late morning sun as he stood there looking out towards the pool. His head was shaved bald and he wore a pair of pitch-black shades upon his face. There were tattoos of what looked like black pythons on both of his carved, adonis-like arms. The thick gold chain around his neck and the rather large diamond stud earrings on both of his ears told everyone he had money.

Haphazardly, my timd eyes glanced down from his "tough" looking masculine face to the rest of his chiseled body. From my straight man's point of view, his strong body was repulsive and revolting to me, yet I was in complete awe.

I stared at him through jaundiced eyes.

He was wearing a ridiculously small bright, solid monochromatic sun-yellow bikini speedoes swimsuit which contrasted with his polished dark skin.

At least I thought it was a speedoes swimsuit from this distance. The thin, flimsy and pliable spandex material seemed more like bikini-styled underwear than anything else. The thin sides barely clung to his powerful hips as his trim 31-inch waistline held the rest of that bikini in place.

This black man had clearly-defined six pack abs, a rippled chest and the strongest-looking thick, yet streamlined and sculptured thighs anyone could describe.

Most embarrassing was the absolutely immense and monstrous bulge he carried in the front of that microscopic bikini "thing" he wore. The pure weight of his "package" truly seemed to weigh down the pouch area of his bright yellow bikini. It truly hung lower than what would ever be perceived as normal.

In all honestly, the bikini's crotch hung nearly half way down his muscular thighs and seemed as thick as a cucumber. Horrifyingly, this man's package literally jutted out in the most pronounced and exaggerated manner possible.

"Geezuz, what the hell?!!" I thought to myself, startled, disgusted and in utter shock by the large size of his bulge.

The manner in which this black stud seemed to be "showing off" was an abomination!

Disgustingly, I watched as this young black man turned back towards the door he just exited. His carved and muscular ass cheeks were covered in those same skimpy yellow bikinis. The backside hung a little lower than normal, as well. The very top of his curved ass crack was showing by merely an eigth of an inch as the flimsy material stretched across his powerful ass cheeks.

The silence amongst the group of white couples was deafening. You could hear a pin drop. And, actually I did hear the sound of someone's silver fork dropping and hitting the marble stone ground of the deck.

I didn't look back. Embarrassingly, I was still in awe of this young black stud standing with his back to us with such confidence. He seemed to be waiting for someone.

That someone would be his beautiful, blonde companion, who had been slowly tailing behind him. Apparently, she had retreived 2 towels from the workout center on the other side of the glas door.

All of us remained sitting there and watching in amazement as the door opened. This beautiful blonde woman wearing an incredibly sexy white bikini emerged. She was holding 2 of the larger white terry cloth towels in her arms. Her hands held a bottle of what appeared to be lotion or baby oil.

Anyone can see that this woman was stunning, yet she was remarkably incoherent and looked excessively run down. It was that obvious.

She was about 33 years old and stood 5'7" tall with a curvaceous, hourglass body that measured somewhere in the neighborhood of 36DD-24-36. Her face was truly model-like, although it was slightly hidden by the large, lightly brown-tinted designer sunglasses she wore.

One can easily see that this woman was strikingly-beautiful when she stepped outside. Her body was trim and her legs were long, lean and exquisitely shaped. Her belly was flat and her pale skin was as smooth as a baby's bottom. Her long, blonde hair, in profusion, was shiny but messy.

The blonde woman had 3 inch high sandals or "mules" on her feet as she literally "staggered" out onto the marble deck holding the towels and bottle of baby oil.

As I continued to look towards her things came into a clearer focus. This woman was even more incoherent than I had initially thought.

At first, I didn't know if she was drunk or hungover, or just tired. Then, it became embarrassingly clear. She was so obviously run down and "used" looking that I could hardly believe it.

I was wondering if the others were noticing what I had seen. But, then I realized they had to be able to.

"How could they not notice?" I asked myself.

I just couldn't believe just how blatant and obvious it was. It was ridiculously obvious, to be quite honest. No one alive could ever come to any other conclusion.

Now, I realize that not many of us have actually seen a woman looking so thoroughly "used" in person before. Perhaps, in a dirty movie but not in real life. Not in public, that's for sure. But, this was one of them and the first time I had ever seen anything like it in my entire life.

She stood there, in a sense, on display for all to see as if it meant nothing to the young black stud she accompanied. He appeared non chalant and uncaring of her startling used appearance.

The tall blonde beauty's long hair was a "frazzled" wreck. Her pretty face was flushed red on both cheeks, and her lips were plump and swollen in such an extreme manner. It looked like she had just come from a bad collagen treatment, or something similar.

Even more degrading was the grotesquely obvious and distinguishable "blotches" of what looked like dried up sperm all over her.

"Gosh! It really is dried up cum." I thought.

It was almost painful to be witnessing this.

The numerous smaller "blotches" were upon her face, cheeks and chin. A few larger ones were plastered on her right shoulder, neck and the cleavage which sprung out from her tiny white bikini top. Longer, thicker and larger blotches of dried sperm ran down both of the blonde woman's inner thighs, and almost to her knees. A few other wayward "splotches" were set on the front of her left thigh, around her bikini line and trimmed belly in a manner an artist would toss paint upon a canvass.

It was an unimagineable and terrifying display of what he had done with her the night before and, perhaps, this morning.

From that distance I could not tell if he had said anything to the pretty blonde woman.

Seconds later, the young masculine black man turned and casually began walking in the direction of the group. All 13 of the white couples sat in complete silence as I literally swallowed the huge lump in my throat.

The black stud's strides were bold, confident and commanding. Still, he walked in such an exaggerated slow and calculating manner. I had never seen anyone walk with such arrogance and cockiness before.

The massive bulge in the thin, flimsy bright yellow bikini was pronounced. The large tool he possessed moved from side to side with every slow step he took in our direction. It slapped against his muscular thighs from right to left, and back and forth, with every stride. The bold yellow colored material of this very flimsy bikini underwear or speedoes could hardly contained him.

It was humbling to see as he drew nearer. The blonde woman followed three of four steps behind, literally staggering and stumbling in her nearly incoherent state.

It seemed to take forever for this black stud to reach the area closer to the group. I am not sure it really took that long at all, or if it seemed this way in my mind only. The entire scene felt surreal. As we stared at him in silence and disbelief, the young black man strolled right past us.

Not even a word was spoken. Nothing!

He did not even glance at any of us, or acknowledge our presence in any way. He simply walked along the edge of the pool a few feet from our seated positions and, in slow motion, swept right past us with his blonde companion trailing strides behind.

His slow, arrogant and powerful strides continued as we all watched in dead silence. The young stud began walking away from us and towards the other side of the pool, his backside now facing us.

The flimsy, sun-yellow material of his bikini hardly managed to stay on his firm and muscular ass cheeks. Frivolously, the butt part of the masculine bikini drooped lower, centimeter by centimeter, with each and every powerful stride. He couldn't of cared less about it. His cockiness was incomprehensible.

We watched in awe as he made his way around the pool, grabbing and dragging one of the expensive wooden chaise lounge chairs along the way. From my position, I could now see the blonde woman's backside as she passed us and obediently followed behind. She was walking tenatively and even bow-legged, almost as if she had spent the past month riding a horse. It was truly that noticeable.

Her ankles nearly wobbled in her obvious affected state. It was like we were watching someone in a drunken stupor trying to walk a line. For a moment, I thought she would fall into the pool.

This black stud finally reached the far side of the pool, which was directly across from us but slightly kiddie-corner to the group's right. He stopped and and dropped the cushioned beach chair into position and then turned to wait for his blonde companion. She stumbled her way before him only moments after.

Still, no words were spoken amongst us 13 white wives and husbands. Not even a sound. We all just continued to watch as the tall blonde woman unfolded and spread one large white towel neatly over the cushioned seat of the only lounge chair. For the time being, she set the other folded towel on top of it.

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