Freedom Ch. 1

"Rave? Yes. Enjoyed myself tremendously. And yes I was on a drug. The only one allowed in the house: marijuana. Dad's an executive chef. He claims weed is the only thing keeping the cooks from killing a customer who wants to be an ass. I say he's just a pothead."

"And you?"

"Well... if I follow dad's footsteps, which I keep wanting to do more and more... more than likely. But I have too much of my father in me. Here... take a look at this. It's my website."

I read over his shoulders as he continued to download more of the surprisingly good trance. Rakim's site was... interesting. I could see the holes he'd left out, and was amazed at how easy it was to fill those holes in. I finished reading part of something he called The Way: Path of Wolf and spoke to him.

"I've never tried marijuana." I let the unspoken question hang in the air. His body tensed briefly, then went into a subtle tremor.

"Well... if you're serious..."

"I want to do all of the things I never did when I was young. And... I trust you."

I looked into his eyes. Those big, expressive orbs to his soul. Whatever I'd said meant... trust. First... and always... trust. Without trust, Wolf does not hunt. The sun will not rise. The rain will not fall. Words from his website. I knew full well what would happen when I said what I said. And I spoke truly; I do trust young Rakim. The why was unimportant. I trusted him instinctively. I felt my heart pound within my chest, suddenly free of the chains that twenty-two years of denial had placed there.

He rose and headed towards his denim jacket. Turning, I saw a small wood pipe in his left hand, resting on top of a small black lighter.

"Dad's right again. He's gonna hate that."

"Pardon?"

"Inside joke. Just before I left Dad handed me this. It's his first ever weed pipe. Had it since he began his culinary career. See... I have smoked weed, but I don't SMOKE weed. I like being clearheaded. However... I make exceptions in the company of a trusted friend." The last words were but whispers, but I heard and understood.

"Show me," I said with a smile.

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it did not take much, and the effect was immediate. My perception was totally skewed. My body felt... fluid. Like Rakim's looked. I turned my head towards him, and noticed that he'd started dancing to the music. I found myself transfixed by the way his chocolate body flowed effortlessly. The constant driving beat was his heartbeat. The changes in flow were changes in his life. Everything... right there. I knew I was high. I knew these thoughts were probably the result of being totally out of control mentally. I didn't care; the thoughts were true. They were mine.

I could not... dared not... resist. I rose from my bed and joined him, pressing my naked flesh against his. His head snapped taunt, eyes locked onto mine. I felt it. Primal. Urgently demanding. I needed him. He needed me. There was no other option. I was going to let this eighteen-year-old young black man fuck me senseless... and enjoy every fucking moment of it.

He kissed me forcefully, and I yielded. My hands latched onto his back, pulling at his sweat soaked skin. One hand found his taunt ass cheeks... just as his throbbing member slapped between my thighs. It knew what it wanted and wanted it now. And I wanted it inside me just as bad. I could feel my cunt dripping down my thigh. All I wanted was that dick inside my fifty-seven year old cunt hard, fast... and now. To Hell with caution. I could not have any more children. I trusted him. I needed him. I turned, trying to signal my intentions. He tossed me onto my bed like a helpless child. The fire within his eyes. His nostrils flared wide. His face twisted into a visage of unadulterated lust... desire. This was Rakim True. My friend. This was the face... and oh so seductively powerful body... of my new best friend. I had chosen him, knowing the risk. And I accepted them. For a moment, a brief flicker of understanding flashed behind the inferno of lust. I smiled... then he was on me.

His head snaked its way between my legs, nudging them aside as his wicked tongue flicked, flittered and caressed its way ever higher. There were little subtleties, and none was asked for. He wanted to taste me? I flung my legs wide, inviting him to stop playing games. A primal growl of pleasure signaled his compliance, followed immediately by the most blissful sensation imaginable: having my clit assaulted by the eager mouth of an eighteen year old well hung, sexually experienced stud. I screamed like a teenager as his mouth was literally EVERYWHERE!! The tongue... wrapping around my turgid clit one moment... fucking my cunt with more expertise than my dear departed slug's dick ever thought to muster. I grabbed at his head as I thrashed about the bed, making a total fool of myself and not caring one bit. Rakim was doing things... making me FEEL... I came. And came. And came. Wave after wave of orgasmic purity crashed into my body. Then he slid that wicked tongue up my asshole. I offered no resistance; I simply screamed, came, and passed out.

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End Chapter One

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