Love Knows No Color Pt. 23

As we lay there talking, our hands were gently rubbing and massaging each other. That sort of touch came more and more naturally to us as time went on. I craved Shavonda's touch, and to feel her soft brown skin under my hands. It was almost like we were teenage virgins, exploring each other's bodies with our hands. But unlike those years, we touched not because we were exploring our urges. We touched because it was comforting.

Shavonda had laid bare some things I hadn't realized. Like me, her work was taking a toll on her. I hoped this vacation was as relaxing to her as it had been to me. Honestly, I had fun being around family, in the place I would always call home. She seemed to be as well, having become a natural part of the family. She would always be welcome here, in our little, secluded world so unlike where she'd lived her whole life.

Until she told me, I hadn't realized she'd worked so hard at building up her business that she'd lost the very thing that had gotten her started: her love of creating things. Somehow, I'd have to do something about that. "Von," I asked her, "Would you teach me some of the administrative tasks of your business? I can help with running the business in my spare time, and leave you more time to do what you love."

"I could do that," she replied softly. "Thanks for offering. But there still is the matter of our third store and getting it off the ground. I am considering a location now. This store will be a little different. I'd like to concentrate on items that reflect my heritage, with a lot more imported items and the work of other artists. I've even picked a name: Shavonda's African Marketplace."

I had to admit I was intrigued by the idea. While she'd always stocked a few items specific to her heritage, and we had quite a few around the house as decorations, this would be taking things to another level. I had known she was kicking around the idea based on how well she'd done at the Juneteenth festival earlier this summer. But Grandma Duncan's death had put a damper on things, and I thought she'd shelved the idea. It had been a rough summer for me so far, and she'd been there for me every step of the way.

"There's also the internet sales," Shavonda continued. "We are now doing a lot of business online. Maybe I'll put you in charge of that end of things. After all, you can do that any time day or night."

We fell asleep that night still in each other's arms, just like it was the most natural thing in the world. For us, it was. In the morning, we arose early and showered together. One thing led to another, and as often happened when we were here, we ended up making love under the lukewarm water. We dried off on wobbly legs, and practically crawled back to the room where we lotioned each other. By this time our little Miracle had woken up. Shavonda breastfed her, then offered me what milk was left. I must admit, I was addicted to her milk. I'd always been a breast man, but until she gave birth I'd never tasted mother's milk. At least not since I was an infant. But with Shavonda's encouragement I had developed a milk fetish. It was one of the many profound ways her love had forever changed me.

We had the usual family breakfast. This time I helped cook French toast, while Mom and Shavonda cooked sausage, eggs and bacon. I also made up a fresh pitcher of Kool-Aid. Mom remarked that we went through more sugar in the week we'd been here than they used in a year. We all sat down to eat as a family before Dad left for the paper mill. We left shortly thereafter, bundling the kids in their car seats for the day's adventure. We wore jackets, as there was a chill in the air. With cloudy skies threatening rain, it didn't look like it was going to warm up much, and even if it did, we'd still need the jackets when we went underground.

After about an hour's drive we arrived at the cave parking lot. On the way, I'd shown Shavonda and the kids where I'd gone to school, since it wasn't that far out of the way, compared to the route we had to take to get to the caverns. One thing about living in the ridge and valley was that the roads tended to follow the valleys, and even though you might be a dozen miles from a place you'd have to drive two or three times that distance because roads over the mountain ridges were few and far between. But with the spectacular scenery the drive was not boring. And for those who lived here, well, let's just day they accepted the roundabout routings as just the way things had always been.

Once clear of the ridges, we were on a limestone plateau. When limestone is the bedrock the topography gets interesting. Limestone dissolves in water, albeit slowly over the eons. Thus, limestone areas are full of sinking creeks and rivers that travel underground, sometimes for miles, before reappearing. There are also a lot of caverns, with passages stretching for many miles. Finally, there are sinkholes where the roofs of the caverns have collapsed. The cave we were going to visit was on this plateau.

We paid our admission, and waited for the next guided tour. Once inside, the guide led us through the subterranean passage. Some spots were quite narrow, and in one, we had to twist in such a way that I had to remove Miracle's sling from my body and pass her through to Shavonda, who carried her the rest of the way. On the return trip, we repeated this in reverse, with Shavonda passing the baby through to me to carry the rest of the way. The tour ended at a rock formation called the organ, which was formed by stalactites and stalagmites merging into what resembled a giant pipe organ.

The whole area of the tour had been wired with lights, so we were never in the dark. I'm sure Ethan and Brittany appreciated that. They had pictured a dark cave full of bats, and were a little scared at first. But I had calmed them down, telling them that it was safe, there were no bats, and the place would be lit up. IN the end, they really enjoyed the cave, even asking the guide if it ever got dark in there. He told them that yes, it did get dark when they turned out the lights. He also mentioned that we only saw a small portion of the cave, and that most of the cave had never been lit by anything but flashlights. He even flipped a switch on the rock wall that turned off the lights, just so we could experience total darkness. It was completely different than the darkness of night we were used to. Even in the middle of the night, our darkness was still lit by reflected light, and starlight, and thus was never truly dark. Here there was none of that, and in the inky blackness you sensed where things were more than actually saw them. After a couple of minutes, the guide turned the lights back on, and we resumed the tour.

Upon exiting the cave, the kids saw the snack bar and started telling us how hungry they were. Shavonda and I exchanged glances. No way we were going to buy the expensive, low quality food sold here. "How far is White Sulphur Springs?" Shavonda asked, pointedly.

"Maybe 20 minutes," I replied. "Doug's place?"

"You know it," Shavonda said with a wide grin. "Kids, how about some diner food with a friend of ours?"

"Yay, French fries!" Ethan yelled enthusiastically. Brittany danced, twirling in circles. Even Miracle was laughing.

Upon arriving at the diner, we took a booth. When the waitress came for our order, we asked about Doug. Soon he came and joined us at the booth. "Kids, this is Doug. I went to school with him. Doug, this is Brittany, Ethan and baby Miracle." I introduced everybody.

"You make some cute kids," Doug laughed. "I never would have guessed you had it in ya." He turned to Ethan. "How old are you, son? Are you in school yet?"

"I am 5," Ethan replied proudly," and I am going to first grade."

"First grade? At 5?" Doug questioned. "Shouldn't he be in kindergarten?"

"No," Shavonda replied. "He's very bright. He can read. I caught him reading Dr. Seuss to the baby the other day. He's already completed kindergarten."

"How did you get him into kindergarten at age 4?" Doug asked, intrigued.

"Interesting story, that," Shavonda replied. "When we had him in day care, they remarked that he was way ahead of the other kids and suggested I enroll him in kindergarten. When I did, they tested him and he did well. We were in the principal's office discussing our options. The principal had set Ethan at her desk, handing him a pencil and telling him he could draw anything he wanted on the blank paper she gave him. Most kids would have drawn a picture. He drew a number line, complete with a zero in the center, and negative numbers to the left, positive to the right. It freaked us right out. I mean, what preschooler even has the concept of negative numbers, let alone can diagram them. I wonder who taught him that?" I grinned sheepishly. This was the first time I'd heard of this.

"I guess I'm responsible for that. He was curious about the ammeter I had on the model railroad that measure tract power. It has a zero in the center of the gauge, and can measure both positive and negative electrical current. I drew him a number line when I was explaining how it worked."

Doug laughed. "It sounds like something you'd do. You always did have a way of explaining things, particularly math. I don't think I could have passed trig without your help."

We sat and swapped stories while our food cooked. "You know, y'all caused Johnnie boy no end of grief."

Shavonda looked at me, puzzled. "Johnny boy?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"You'd know him better as Mr. Cream Puff," Doug laughed. "That name stuck and he can't stand it. Ain't you been online lately?"

"My parents' house doesn't have net access," I explained. "They live in a dead zone without phone service too. So, unless we come somewhere like here, we are out of the loop."

"Well, evidently, a lot of people round here are sick of his attitude. And when he went off on y'all about the reunion, people didn't like it. He still has his friends, but most of us think he crossed the line. I never thought I'd see the day the whole school took Nature Boy's side." While Doug told us what was going on I checked my page on the cell phone.

"Nature Boy?" Shavonda raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, that's what they used to call him," Doug explained. "Legend had it if you dropped him off in the middle of the forest without a map or food, he'd find his way out within a week, with a full stomach. They also said, he'd have made it out sooner but he got distracted by the nuts and berries he found on the way."

"They'd probably have been right," I laughed. "I would have been in no hurry to get back to school."

"It always amazed me that somebody who aced tests the way you did would hate school as much as you did," Doug replied.

"Well," I said, "they weren't teaching me anything new. I would have read through all my textbooks for the year by Thanksgiving break. So, by the time the teacher got around to a particular subject, I'd have already worked it out for myself. I was bored in class half the time. Plus, that whole jock faction of the school hated my guts. Them and the Pattons. They gave me no end of trouble."

"The Pattons," Doug spat the name out with contempt. "What a total waste of humanity."

"I met Randy," Shavonda said. "He took a swing at Jason and broke his hand on a metal door frame."

"Yup, that sounds like Randy." Doug nodded. "What'd Jason do to provoke him?"

"Randy called me a name, and Jason told him how beautiful I was. Told Randy I even had all my teeth and asked him how many his wife had left."

Doug laughed. "The answer is probably two. I know who he married."

"So what were YOU like in school?" Shavonda changed the subject.

"I was just a kid trying to get by. I tried to stay out of everybody's way. I fought those I had to, and kissed ass when I needed to. Mostly I just kept my head down and tried to fit in. My grades weren't that good, but I did well enough to get by. At that time, I wasn't strong enough to take a stand the way Jason did."

"Is that how you saw me?" I asked. "The kid who stood his ground?"

"Yeah, I did. And so did a lot of others. Every time you got into it with somebody, we were silently rooting for you. But we couldn't tell you that because we were afraid of the consequences if we did. You, on the other hand, didn't care."

"It wasn't that I didn't care," I shook my head sadly. "There was no way for me to really fit in. Even back then I was so different from everybody else I didn't know HOW to fit in. And I paid the price for it. But you know what? It only made me stronger."

"I'm sure it did," Doug replied. "But what I did helped me out tremendously after school when I went in the Army. I was so used to staying out of everybody's way I had no trouble adjusting to the life. They made me a supply clerk, and I learned a lot there that prepared me for running this place. Honestly, I'm glad I went. But I couldn't see you doing well there. You're way too independent for that."

"He is that," Shavonda laughed. "But I can see how his school days prepared him for life with me. We tend to piss people off by being together."

"Some, maybe," Doug said. "But things are changing down here. Our generation is much more accepting than our grandparents were. Jason, I noticed you were looking at your profile. Did you see what I mean?"

I did. Most of the posts on my profile were supportive, and those directed at Mr. Creampuff were telling him to let it go, to leave us alone. "I am surprised," I said. "I was prepared to deal with a lot of criticism over my marriage at the reunion. But Von is my queen, and I walked in there proudly with her on my arm. And most people were friendly and seemed glad to see me."

"That's what I was talking about." Doug explained. "You walked in, head held high, prepared to defend your wife if need be. The way it should be. While we didn't expect your wife to be black, we were glad to see you were still as strong as ever. Honestly, I think you were one of the strongest people I've ever met, emotionally. You did what most of us wished we could do, without even realizing it. You see, Johnny boy was top dog around there and thought he ruled the place. And we let him. And he let that get to his head. We were all beneath him, some of us sucking up so we could bask in his presence. But more of us resented the way he treated us. We were just too intimidated to realize we had other options. Now we know, we've matured, and his bullshit doesn't fly anymore."

"Jason, Von, we're glad to see you two found each other, and that you've done well," Doug continued. "After all these years, you're still the same defiant person we all knew. And that's good to know. With Johnny, we all knew he'd turn on us in a heartbeat if we became a liability. I always figured you'd be the one to stick up for me if I ever got into trouble."

"I really don't know if I would have," I replied honestly. "I had so much on my plate just keeping myself going. But I always tried to help when I could. It's just how I was raised."

Our food had arrived, and we ate in silence, enjoying the meal. Doug had to return to work, the place was starting to get busy. We left the waitress a nice tip, she had earned it. And we said goodbye to Doug, promising to stop in next time we were in town.

The trip over the mountains to the farmhouse was uneventful, but the cloud had finally burst while we were in the diner, and we drove through the spectacular scenery in the rain. Shavonda had pulled up Aretha Franklin on the iPod, and she sang "Natural Woman" in a way that did Aretha justice. I would always remember that day when I heard that song. Shavonda's spectacular voice, in the rain on winding mountain roads, with the mist swirling around the mountaintops. It was a beautiful experience.

Back at the farm, we found my old board games, and played Monopoly with the kids at the kitchen table until Mom kicked us out to start dinner. We spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV, snuggled on the couch. My parents DID have cable tv, mainly because if they didn't they'd be lucky to have any TV at all. We were, after all, surrounded by mountains approaching or exceeding 4000 feet in all directions. The kids managed to find Thomas on one of the channels, and thus inspired, Brittany and Ethan begged me to buy them some more engines from the show to run on our train layout back home. I promised I would. We already had Thomas, and Percy, but they were too small to pull more than a couple cars up the mountain. I'd buy them Gordon and Henry, two of the larger engines, in the hopes that they could pull a decent train.

It felt good to snuggle on the couch. At home, we didn't watch much TV. We didn't have time. Here, on vacation, we could relax as a family.

After Dad got home from the paper mill, we all gathered for dinner. Mom had made a huge pot of spaghetti, enough to feed 8 people. Shavonda promised that tomorrow, our last full day there, we'd make them dinner for a change. Later, in bed, I asked her what she had in mind. "The same thing we had the first time I cooked dinner for you: Fried chicken," she replied. "And homemade French fries. You're gonna help me like you did that first time."

I lay there, Shavonda nestled against me, idly running my thumb over her puffy nipple as I often did. I had always been a breast man, and hers were by far the most beautiful I'd ever played with. Even better, she really enjoyed my touch, enough so that she was soon atop me shoving a nipple into my mouth. Have I mentioned that since the baby I'd developed a milk fetish that she nurtured and encouraged? I drank from her dark nipple, knowing the baby had already drunk her fill and would most likely sleep through the night. What Shavonda had was all mine tonight. Playfully, she pulled her breast from my mouth and squeezed the nipple. A stream of her warm, sweet milk squirted into my mouth as she laughed. "I always wanted to do that to you. You're lucky I didn't shoot it all over your face."

"You do that, and I'll give you a facial next time we make love," I countered.

"Like HELL you will," Shavonda sputtered. "I told you from the get go that stuff goes inside me not on me. Like I want dried cum in my hair and eyes. You do that, I'll never give you head again!" She glared at me in the dim light of the pine scented candles she'd lit before we turned out the lights. We locked eyes for a minute or so before neither of us could take it anymore, and we both burst out laughing.

"You know I love you, right?" Shavonda's tone had softened. "That last bit was uncalled for. You've never disrespected me in any way, in or out of the bedroom. I know you'd never do that unless I asked you." I nodded my head in agreement. Our relationship was built on respect for each other. There was no room for humiliation in our lives.

The whole time Shavonda had been astride me, I had a raging hard on. She seductively ground her crotch into mine, and I could feel her juices coating me as she ground against me. Instinctively, I reached down between us and gently rubbed her clit, causing her to squeal in delight. When she could take no more, she lifted up, and guided me between her slick, glistening lips. "Let me do the work," she whispered as she took me balls deep inside her tight tunnel. She ground against me, back and forth rather than up and down. It was obvious she was on the verge of orgasm, and I gently kneaded her side right above her hip, one of her sweet spots I'd discovered a while back. With a loud moan, she gave in to the sensations and let her pleasure wash over her.

I stared, mesmerized into her eyes that seemed to dance in the flickering light. Her look was one of pure lust, and I knew she wasn't through with me. She continued her slow, sensual grind, with me buried inside her to the hilt as her inner walls convulsed around me. God, I loved this woman, and the things she could do to me, that she did willingly because I enjoyed them. We had a sexual energy that fed off each other, one where each got off on giving the other pleasure. It often wound up intensifying the experience, our lust spiraling out of control. Tonight was no exception.