Love in Black and White Ch. 01

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Two sexual mentors: one Black, one White.
6.4k words
4.26
21k
15

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/11/2016
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Love in Black and White -- Chap 01

Young innocent, away from home and parental constraints for the
first time, encounter two drastically different men who awaken her sexuality.

**************************************************

I was the first of three housemates to move into the rental house that students typically occupied during the school year. The housing situation was quite serious both on and off campus, and we lucked out when we found this adorable house. The rent was manageable if divided three ways, the rooms were large, airy and clean. There were two bathrooms, a recently upgraded kitchen and best of all, though the room wasn't the largest, my room had a fenced patio that overlooked the small but well-kept garden.

I loved the house, and later that day when my housemates arrived, the first thought that came to mind was that our group was a diverse one. If you looked up Diversity in the dictionary, our pictures would pop up. Janice was the oldest of our group. At twenty, she was a tall, slim "privileged" white girl from New Mexico. Janice was starting her junior year and had lived in the dorms until deciding to live off campus this year. Bren was Asian and like me a freshman. She had grown up in Southern California and picked this University because of its excellent Veterinary program. Tasha was a fun loving Black girl from Washington DC, majoring in Business. Tasha had chosen the University here rather than attending Howard University where both her parents had graduated. Despite our very different backgrounds and upbringing, I think Tasha and I had the most in common. My name is Shannon Rafferty, and I was eighteen on my recent birthday. I am a true Southern girl from Louisiana. Though coming from a bi-racial background (white father, black mother), because of my dark blond hair, green eyes and olive complexion many people assume I have Mediterranean roots and not African-American. My ethnicity is not something I feel compelled to discuss with people, and so I don't.

My parents had been divorced since I was six years old and I was reared by my father. During high school, I dated only white boys from the best families, and my Dad fully expected me to one day marry a young, upwardly mobile white man and give him several white grandchildren. Though he never said it aloud, I am certain he felt that over time marrying and being impregnated by a white man would "lighten" that black strain in my blood line. While I loved my Dad more than anything, and would never have considered him a racist, he nonetheless was quietly adamant in his belief that white people were the naturally superior race.

I grew up shy, quiet, and obedient. My life was secure, sheltered and above all else, white. Of course, I wanted a good education, but I hoped that by getting away, being on my own, I'd be able to broaden my perspectives and be free to live and experience life without the constant supervision and intrusion from my well-meaning Father.

*****

I met Ryan Halgram after my friend (boyfriend?) Nathan Williams left to take part in a six month teaching internship. Ryan worked in construction, but with the down turn in the economy, there weren't many jobs, and he was now working as the handyman for the property management company that took care of our rental house. Ryan was a tall white, ruggedly good looking man, well built, with a shaved head and the deepest shade of blue eyes I had ever seen. Adding to the physical attractiveness, Ryan was about thirty years old and interestingly enough had received a degree from the very same university I was now attending.

Whenever we had minor issues around the house the property manager would send Ryan, so we knew he was the handyman and were not surprised or concerned when we frequently saw him working on the property. As spring turned to summer and Ryan was around more and more he and I would speak when we saw each other and came to know each other on a casual basis.

There was a growing physical attraction between the two of us and I must admit that the first time with Ryan was amazing. It wasn't planned, and it wasn't romantic. It was him taking me in the kitchen, with my skirt hiked up around my hips, my panties ripped and crumpled on the floor.

It happened one afternoon when I had no classes and was busy in the kitchen. It was warm, Ryan was in the yard working, and I brought him out a tall glass of cold iced tea and then went back into the kitchen. He followed me into the house, and when I turned and saw him behind me, he pulled me into his arms. Before my brain could register what was happening, he began kissing and fondling me. Without thinking, I reached down and started rubbing his dick. I could feel it getting hard through the fabric of his pants when he suddenly turned me around and pressed me against the kitchen wall. I was surprised and stiffened instinctively when the tip of his cock head pushed at my pussy for entry.

"What are you doing? Wait, wait . . . ," but it was too late.

"Shhhh, shhhh, baby," and with that he held my hips and pushed. With one hard, deep thrust, he was inside me. I screamed weakly, but he covered my mouth with his hand and after a short pause began slowly stroking into my no longer virgin pussy. "I'm sorry, it'll only hurt the first time, I promise. I'm sorry I had to hurt you, I don't want to," he said, his mouth close to my ear. I was crying from the sudden sharp pain, but as he stroked in and out of me, it began to feel better, and after a while, it started to feel good.

"Just breathe and let yourself relax Shannon," he said as if talking to a child, trying to calm my fears. He reached around my hips and began rubbing my clit. The pressure on my clit, coupled with his slow in and out stroking brought me to my first male induced orgasm. The pleasure and strength of my orgasm were something I had never experienced before, and as my eighteen-year-old body jerked and bucked under him, he came in a forceful torrent into my unprotected pussy.

When he finished cumming, he slumped over my back until he got himself under control. My legs were wobbly, and he helped me to the chair. I could feel his cum leaking out of my pussy and soaking into my skirt. He wiped my tears away with a tissue and then handing me a wad of tissue helped me clean myself up.

We chatted as he drank another glass of iced tea and that's when he asked me for a date.

*****

We went out that Saturday night to a movie and dinner. After dinner, we came back to the house, smoked a little weed and had a drink, "for the road." We made out on the sofa for a while, and I could see his cock was hard and straining against his jeans. I could tell he wanted me to suck him. Before things went too far, I thought I had better have Ryan leave; besides, my housemates would probably start returning within the next hour or so. Tasha and Bren didn't like Ryan and I didn't want there to be any problems.

"Ryan, I said, it's getting pretty late, and you should probably leave now." He looked at me with disappointment in his eyes, and said, "You're right, it is late, but I want to say thank you for a fantastic evening." Ryan began kissing me, and I returned his kisses. He slipped his hand under my skirt, caressing my thighs and teasing my clit. Whatever resolve I may have had evaporated when I began humping against his hand. He pressed me onto my back there on the sofa, where anyone coming into the room would see us.

Ryan opened my legs and lowering his face began licking and lapping up the wetness between my legs. I gasped and held my breath as what he was doing sent shivers through me.

"Oh my god Ryan, that feels wonderful . . . please, please don't stop." He obviously knew what he was doing and how to give a woman pleasure this way. With each swipe of his long wet tongue, he would stick its tip into my pussy, and when he started teasing my clit, licking, kissing, sometimes gently biting, I was reduced to a pathetic creature begging for release.

Ryan finally, mercifully let me cum; I lay, curled in a fetal position on the sofa, enjoying the warm afterglow of a gut wrenching orgasm. Ryan stood over me smiling broadly, proud of his achievement. He bent and kissed me lightly on the lips before turning to leave saying, "I'll call you tomorrow."

*****

Except for casual conversations, Ryan and I spent very little time talking about our families, our backgrounds, or ourselves. Of course, he knew I was a student, but I did not share with him that my family was comfortably well off or that I was bi-racial, that my Mom was black and my Dad white or anything else that was important to or about me. I just felt it was none of his business. Like most people, Ryan assumed I was white, and by the time, I found out what kind of person he was, his attitudes, his prejudices . . . in all honesty, I was a little afraid to tell him, for fear of what he might do.

I think I liked Ryan from the beginning. The large tattoos on his body, his shaved head, his growing feelings for me to say nothing of his lovemaking, I don't know, he was exciting. I must admit that things he would say sometimes surprised me, but I shouldn't have felt surprised. Growing up in an environment in which my Dad held very narrow views on race and ethnic superiority, I still felt uncomfortable when Ryan expressed those same opinions.

There were so many red flags that I ignored and should have taken more seriously. He was narcissistic, jealous and controlling. Particularly distressing was the way he interacted with other people; He was impatient with people who were not like himself and had an easy dislike of anyone who did not fit his narrow perceptions or expectations. In hindsight, I can see these were things I should have paid attention to, but I didn't.

Though sometimes feeling uncomfortable when I was with him, sadly, I still lusted after him, and despite my reservations, and the twelve year age difference, our relationship, and intimacy progressed. I knew the relationship was primarily about the sex but I was changing from a girl to a woman, and Ryan, along with my friend Nathan before him had awakened the sexual side of my nature.

*****

I was still relatively inexperienced sexually, and Ryan was only the second man with whom I had been intimately involved. I remember the first time I performed oral sex on him. I had been in the small garden off my bedroom pulling weeds and watering, when I looked up and saw Ryan coming around the side of the house. He had been working on a plumbing problem at one of the other properties nearby and decided to drop by on the chance I would be there.

"Hey baby, he said as he came closer. I haven't seen you in almost a week; you're not avoiding me are you?"

"Of course not," I laughed as I walked toward him admiring his tall, handsome good looks and threw my arms around his neck. We hugged each other, kissing passionately and I felt his erection growing and pressing against my body.

"I missed you, Shannon, I missed you so fucking much," he said, rubbing his swelling cock against my hip. Ryan pulled me along with him to a corner of the garden sheltered by a thick cluster of Evergreen bushes, where he quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his swollen, pulsing cock.

"Come on baby, suck it . . . suck it just a little for me," Ryan begged. I hesitated for a moment, wanting to please him, but afraid of being seen.

"I can't do that, what if someone sees us?" I asked.

"Nobody will see . . . I just want to feel your mouth on me, Shannon . . . please, baby."

The tenderness in his voice, as he pled with me to comfort him was enough to make me relent. I finally knelt down between his legs and let my tongue lick the drop of pre-cum that clung to the seeping slit at the tip of his cock head. He groaned and wrapped his hands in my hair holding the sides of my head, and began grinding, coaxing my mouth to match his rhythm as I sucked the crown and licked the shaft of his cock. After a few minutes, his balls tightened and pulled up against his body. Sensing he was about to cum, I tried to move my mouth away, but he held my mouth on his cock and continued pumping and thrusting until he was empty and satisfied.

"Oh, fuuuccccck Shannon fuck, fuck, fuck!" He mumbled to himself.

"Next time baby, I'll take care of you, the next time," he said as he helped me to my feet and straightened his clothes. I finger combed my hair out of my face and wiped away the cum that had dribbled from the side of my mouth. Watching him as he prepared to leave and get by to work, I felt a sense of disappointment but at the same time an entirely irrational feeling of pride at having been the one to satisfy him.

*****

Remembering what had happened in the garden a few days earlier, I was thrilled when Friday morning, Ryan called and asked if I would like to go to a party with him that night.

"Of course I would," I replied excitedly. This evening would be the first time that I would meet any of Ryan's friends.

"Good, good he said, I'll pick you up around ten o'clock."

He was late, and I was pissed. Around eleven o'clock, the doorbell rang, and when I opened it, there was Ryan. "You're late," I said as he stood there grinning foolishly, obviously having had a couple of drinks already, and offering no explanation as to why he was so late. Because I didn't want to spoil the evening completely, I said nothing more about his lateness and we left the house heading for the party.

The party house was an old two story Victorian encircled by a high chain link fence, and had probably been quite grand in its day. There were a lot of old cars and trucks parked in front and a group of maybe fifteen people (men and women) milling around inside the fence. Perhaps the thing that struck me most when we walked through the gate was the huge Confederate flag that hung on one side of the porch and the Nazi flag that hung on the other.

We walked into the house, and I was surprised to see how many people were crammed into the room; Drinking, smoking weed, indulging in other substances, unconcerned that their music was blasting loud enough to be heard throughout the neighborhood. Ryan wandered off in search of a couple of beers for us even though I told him I didn't want anything. "You'll feel more like partying when you've had a cold beer and loosened up," he insisted, leaving me standing alone in the corner of the room feeling uneasy and abandoned.

This place, these people, it was scary. Geez, I was barely a full year out of high school, on my own for the first time in my life and here I was in a room full of very strange people. As I looked around, I could see posters on the walls and flyers scattered about the room professing the glory and virtue of Aryan this and that, White Pride, White Supremacy and even old Nazi memorabilia. When I got a closer look at the people in the room, I realized that most of them were men with clean shaven heads wearing hobnail boots and khaki pants, some of them displaying large garish tattoos, even some of the women had tattoos. Seeing this, it dawned on me why the tattoos seemed familiar; they were some of the same tattoos that Ryan had on his body. I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, a clear warning to me, that I had no business being here with these people.

Where was Ryan? What was taking him so long? I just wanted to leave.

I turned and saw Ryan coming through the crowd of people, "Ryan, I'm sorry, I know these are your friends, but I don't feel comfortable here, would you please take me home?"

"Oh baby, you can't be ready to leave already. Here, drink your beer. Listen, we'll stay for another half hour or so, and if you still want to leave then, we'll go, okay? He said in a cajoling voice.

"Okay," I said reluctantly, taking a sip from my beer.

Ryan turned to talk with a few of his friends, not aware or not caring that I could hear the conversation, "She looks like jailbait, is she? His friend with a swastika tattooed on his forehead asked. "Nah," was all Ryan replied.

"You fucking her?" his friend asked as he almost lovingly ran his hand across his groin and squeezed his dick. Ryan gave him a knowing grin and returned to where I was standing.

I was now a little woozy and unsteady on my feet and reached out to grab his arm, "Ryan, I think I'm ready to go."

"Alright," he said, but instead of our heading to the front door, with an arm around my waist, he led me up the stairs to the second floor.

"Ryan, where are we going?" I asked groggily, but he didn't respond.

We walked down the hall to what appeared to be a large living room filled with an eclectic collection of sofas, chairs, tables and a big screen TV in the corner. The room was empty except for a couple who were busily having sex on a periwinkle blue sofa.

I turned to Ryan to ask when we were going to leave when he began kissing me. I felt myself shiver when he pulled my blouse free from the waistband of my skirt and started brushing his fingers over my nipples. I softly moaned enjoying the feel of my nipples harden and pucker when he cupped my tits in his large warm hands. I felt as if a warm, fuzziness had enveloped my head, and a throbbing, achiness growing between my legs. Ryan led me over to the sofa and with a light pressure on my shoulder urged me to bend forward over the back of the sofa. I did not question him, nor did I resist when he raised the back of my skirt up and pulled my panties down letting them fall on the floor, around my ankles.

"Step out of them," he instructed, and I did as he said.

I stood there bent over the sofa with an idiotic grin on my face, my clit pulsing with anticipation.

Ryan pressed me forward again over the sofa and eased himself between my thighs, using his knees to spread my legs wider. Ryan brought his cock in line with my pussy and pushed the hot tip into me. Swaying his hips just enough to tease me he withdrew without full penetration and began to stroke his cock between my swollen, wet pussy lips, the tip of his cock rubbing against my clit with each full upward stroke. I groaned with the pleasurable sensations and gasped when he finally thrust his cock, balls deep into my pussy.

I dreamily looked about the room and saw several people (including the couple who were initially fucking on the blue sofa) watching raptly as Ryan roughly took me from behind like a big dog. I bent over, my breasts pressed hard against the back of the sofa, my ass raised higher as he increased his tempo. I felt myself contracting hard around his cock, succumbing to the power of the orgasm that was building in my core. When I couldn't contain it any longer, I gave in and let the orgasmic pleasure overtake my body as Ryan drove his cock deeper unloading his hot, thick cum inside me.

When Ryan finally pulled out of me, I saw there were at least four men crowded around the sofa. One of them I recognized, the one with the swastika on his forehead picked up my panties and spewed his load on them. The others stood there with their cocks out, stroking themselves, having been aroused watching me being fuck by their friend Ryan.

As the effects of the beer wore off, I fleetingly wondered if Ryan had put something in my beer. Had I been drugged?" but quickly dismissed the idea. My legs felt a bit steadier, leaning on Ryan, I was able to walk to his car where I passed out on the drive home and didn't awake until he pulled into the driveway and helped me inside before he left.

After I managed a cold shower and to fix myself a hot cup of tea, I crawled into bed. I lay there reflecting on the evening, at least the part that I could remember. Laying there drifting off to sleep, two thoughts kept troubling me . . . if any of those men had wanted to have sex with me I think Ryan would have let them and even more disturbing, I don't think I would have tried to stop them.

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