8 comments/ 52288 views/ 12 favorites Nice New Neighbor By: MrImagination (DISCLAIMER: This story is an original work done by me, its author. It was originally written as a gift for a very dear friend of mine, and has since been submitted here for the sake of its artistic value. Do not claim this story as your own work, or reproduce it as yours. The people and events depicted in this story are all fictitious; any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.) (FURTHER NOTES: The events depicted in this story take place in the country of Jamaica. Therefore, some of the dialogue written here will be depicted in the Jamaican patois, which is a blend of English and other languages that is unique to the island. This story is especially recommended for those of you who have visited Jamaica before and were impressed with its people and its beauty, or for those of you who have never been to Jamaica but would like to visit there someday.) ************************ "Good, that's the last of it all!" Kadija Hopeton said triumphantly as she stacked the last box into an empty space in her new closet. "Honestly, I didn't think making this move would be such a hassle..." She closed the closet door and studied her new bedroom. The walls were painted a deep yellow—not the color she would've chosen, personally, but she could deal with it now and change it at a later date. The floor had white marble tiles set out in an intricate pattern. There was a chest-of-drawers in one corner of the room, equipped with a mirror, and the obligatory bed was there as well. "Looking good, looking good," she chuckled. She went outside to the living room and appraised the place. All the furniture and appliances she'd brought were in their proper places: the dining table and its accompanying chairs at center-stage, the television at one corner, the couch in between the TV and the dining set, and a few feet away there was the kitchen, with the fridge, blender, and other necessary things set up and ready for use. A small smile crossed the 30-year-old's face as she surveyed it all. "Okay...everything's good to go!" she grinned. Suddenly something caught the corner of Kadija's eye. "Hmm?" Looking toward the couch, she beheld in front of it, on the floor, a small cardboard box. "What's this now? There was one more box to empty out?" she wondered as she crossed over to the couch and picked the box up. "What's in here...?" Opening the box, she looked inside...then reached in and picked out a small framed photograph. As she looked at it for a long moment, her face contorted into a look of utter sadness. The picture depicted her being hugged by a smiling, baby-faced man with a mustache. "Nathan..." she whispered. Like a tidal wave, the rush of memories came back over her: that horrible night last July...that phone call from the hospital...the solemn voice on the line informing her that her beloved husband had been in an accident and was battling for his life...her rush to the hospital and the refusal by the nurses to let her see him... Shaking herself out of her stupor, Kadija hastily put the picture back into the box. "Well, there's enough time to figure out where I should put you," she sighed. "Right now, though...I said I needed to get some onions and seasoning, didn't I?" -- Kadija was originally from Ocho Rios, a tourist resort town and the capitol city of St. Ann, a parish on the north coast of the island of Jamaica. There she had lived for several years, including the six she'd been married to her husband Nathan. During that time Kadija had been pursuing her degree at the University of the West Indies, majoring in Music with a minor in Child Education; Nathan, meanwhile, was able to support both of them through his job as the manager of a popular hotel in the town. Unfortunately, one year ago, Nathan's car had been struck by an extremely careless driver, and he had been seriously injured; and though he put up a valiant effort for life in his hospital room over the next week, he'd eventually succumbed. Naturally, Kadija was devastated at her loss. She had not anticipated that she could have ever become a widow at so young an age, and the thought of having lost her husband in such a manner left her feeling bitter and emotionally scarred. Unable to stay in the same place where Nathan's life had ended, she'd made arrangements to move elsewhere, to someplace where she could get away from the constant reminders of what had happened. And so, over the course of the next year following Nathan's funeral, Kadija had sought out good places where she could live and, perhaps, use her teaching and music skills to make a living for herself. Although they didn't quite agree with her leaving them behind, her family ands understood her grief and did what they could to help. It was her sister who had suggested the place where she now resided: a quiet little district in the cool hills of St. James. This particular area was only thirty minutes' drive from the main city, Montego Bay, and also, the sister-in-law had asserted, it was where one of her old high school teachers now lived as well. If Kadija intended to go into teaching with her degree, the sister-in-law had assured her, then this teacher would be one of the best persons to give her recommendations. -- So now Kadija briefly reflected on all of this as she strolled down the street. She glanced around at the neighborhood, smiling as she observed the children playing in nearby yards. A few of the adults standing nearby called to her in greeting, and she waved back as a courtesy. "Good afternoon, ma'am!" one woman called to her from the verandah of a house, cloth tied around her head and broom in hand. "Yu jus' move here to live, yes? Ah saw di truck goin' up to yu house dis mornin'!" Kadija chuckled as she heard the woman's generous use of the familiar Jamaican patois. "Yes, I just moved in today," she replied, mixing in a little of the patois with her usually proper English so as not to ostracize the woman. "Well, ah hope yu will be stayin' here a long time, ma'am," the woman grinned good-naturedly. "Dis is a very quiet area, yu know, ma'am, an' everybody will 'elp u get settled in. If yu eva need anyt'ing, jus' mek one a wi know, 'cause we is neighbor, yu know?" "True, true," Kadija agreed. "Anyhow, I need to buy a few things from the shop...you think you could show me where it is?" "Yeah, man," the woman nodded, and she pointed up the road. "See dat green house up dere so? Di shop is di blue house next to it—is really one place, yu know, ma'am, di shopkeeper have 'im house dere so too." "Okay, thanks a lot," Kadija nodded, and hurried on. A short moment later, she arrived at the shop—a small establishment with a grilled window separating where she stood from the goods inside. There was nobody in sight. "Hello?" she called. "Comin'!" a loud voice yelled from a back room, followed a moment later by heavy footsteps. Then the shopkeeper appeared, a large, fat man with a graying beard. "Hello," said Kadija politely. "Do you have any onions?" "Yeah," the man answered gruffly. "'Ow much yu want?" "I'd like three, please, and a half-pound of meat seasoning," Kadija replied. Nodding, the shopkeeper turned and began to search the lower shelves. Kadija decided to make some small talk. "I just moved into this district today, you know," she said. "Dat so?" the shopkeeper answered. "Well, welcome, den. Wat u name?" "Kadija Hopeton," she told him. "And yours, sir?" "Me name Cyrus, but everybody call me Stallion," the shopkeeper answered. He then stood up a moment later, three onions in hand, and placed them on the counter. "All right, mi a go measure di seasoning now. Jus' gimme a minute." Just then, Kadija heard a car pulling up outside the shop. Turning, she beheld a beautiful white Tesla Roadster. "Oh, who is this?" she wondered aloud. "Eh?" Stallion turned to look at the car as well—and suddenly he grinned. "Oh! Dat a Miz Atkins' car!" "Miss Atkins...?" Kadija repeated. The car door presently swung open, and its owner stepped out, clad in a light-green dress suit and sunglasses. Pausing to lock the car, she stepped quickly but firmly toward the shop, nodding to its occupants as she entered. "Good afternoon, Stallion," she addressed the shopkeeper. "Afternoon, Miz Atkins!" Stallion replied, still grinning and nodding his head eagerly. "Jus' wait a bit, please, ah servin' dis lady here right now." Then he turned and went back to measuring out the seasoning Kadija had ordered. "Hmm?" The newcomer tipped her sunglasses down slightly to look at Kadija out of piercing black eyes. "You're a new face around here." "Yes, I just moved here today," Kadija explained, and held out her hand. "Kadija Hopeton. Pleased to meet you, Miss Atkins." The other woman smiled a little as she reached out and shook Kadija's hand. "That's Mrs. Atkins, mind you," she corrected. Kadija immediately remembered—in some parts of Jamaican society, women were often addressed with the title "Miz," a sort of in-between for "Miss" and "Missus." And she had to admit, on closer inspection Mrs. Atkins certainly fit the bill for a "Missus": though she was roughly about 5'5'', two inches shorter than Kadija's own 5'7'' frame, she had the look of a married woman. That impression was further aided by Mrs. Atkins's mature face, bearing the beginnings of age-wrinkles under her eyes and around her mouth, and by her hair that was showing the first signs of graying, set back in a neat bun held in place by a hairpin. But in spite of those wrinkles and the gray in her hair, Mrs. Atkins still had a certain attractiveness about her, one enforced by the chocolate-colored glow of her skin tone, the sharp but not unfriendly look in her eyes and the smirk that was set on her lips. "So, Ms. Hopeton," Mrs. Atkins now asked, "what do you think of this district so far?" "Please, just Kadija is fine," Kadija politely informed her. "And I haven't seen very much of the district yet, but I like what I've seen so far. It's a beautiful place, and everyone here seems so friendly and willing to help." "Yes, ma'am, dat's 'ow we all stay 'roun' 'ere," Stallion remarked, presently holding up the seasoning and weighing it on his scale. "All right, half-pound. So, t'ree onion and half-pound meat seasoning...dat a $145." "Thank you," said Kadija, opening her purse and pulling out two $100 bills. "Hmm...Kadija, you said?" Mrs. Atkins remarked while Kadija collected her change. "If I may just say, your spoken English is impeccable...I hear it from very few young people nowadays." "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Atkins," Kadija smiled at her. "I guess you can thank my mother for that—when I was growing up, she always used to insist that my spoken English should be as flawless as possible. 'The Queen's English is the tongue of English-speaking professionals in the world of work,' she used to say." Mrs. Atkins chuckled. "I think I'd like to meet your mother and shake her hand. So, have you been putting her advice to good use?" "Well, I try to stick to it, but...I guess there are times when I just go right into the patois out of habit from my primary-school days," Kadija admitted. "But I did my best to follow that advice during university." "Oh, a university graduate?" Mrs. Atkins inquired. "That's right," Kadija nodded. "I did a four-year Music programme, and minored in Child Education. I want to become a music teacher." "A music teacher, eh? Well, you'll have quite a lot of work on your hands. Oh, just a minute." Mrs. Atkins turned to Stallion. "Stallion, could you let me have everything on this list, please?" she asked, handing him a slip of paper. "Right away, Miz Atkins!" Stallion nodded, and he went back to searching the shelves for the desired items on the list. "Mrs. Atkins, excuse me, but when I heard your name just now, I was wondering," said Kadija. "You used to teach at St. Patrick High School for Girls in Montego Bay, didn't you?" "Actually, I still teach there—English Language and English Literature," Mrs. Atkins replied proudly. "I've been there for 25 years now. But why do you ask?" Kadija nodded. "Do you remember ever having a student there several years ago—one Naomi Singh?" "Naomi Singh...Naomi Singh...oh yes, now I remember!" Mrs. Atkins replied eagerly. "She was one of my best students—graduated with two distinctions, one in Language and one in Literature! How do you know her, if I may?" "She's my sister," Kadija explained. "When I was moving here, she suggested that I look you up, for help getting recommendations for a school I could teach music at." "How very interesting," Mrs. Atkins rubbed her chin thoughtfully and grinned. "Well, Kadija, I just may be able to assist you there. Tell me, have you finished getting settled into your new house?" "Um...well, I finished packing everything out not too long ago," Kadija answered. "In that case," said Mrs. Atkins, "would you like to come over to my house a little later and have tea with me? We can discuss where you can go to apply for that teaching position you want, and I can give you a proper welcome to this neighborhood. And I would like to know how Naomi has been doing—it's been so many years since I last heard from her." "Well...I wouldn't want to impose...and anyway, I'm a stranger to these parts..." Kadija began. "Nonsense!" Mrs. Atkins shook her head. "It would be no trouble at all—I haven't had a guest over in many weeks, anyway. So I'm insisting that you come over. Please do. I'd be really happy to have you." "Hmm..." Kadija smiled a little bit, though she cast her eyes downward. "All right, if you insist...but I'll have to go and freshen up first...I've been getting the place organized all day." "That's fine," said Mrs. Atkins. "You can come over, say, 6:30—that should give me enough time to get everything ready for you. My house is a big blue house with a star-apple tree in the front yard." "A star-apple tree in the front yard?" Kadija asked. "That's right next door to where I'm living now!" "Oh? You mean your house is the house with the picket fence that had a 'For Sale' sign in the front yard? Then this is just perfect!" Mrs. Atkins smiled broadly. "We'll be next-door neighbors! How about that?" "Here's everyt'ing, Miz Atkins," Stallion informed her at that moment, presenting a black plastic bag full of food items to her. "Dat's $835." Mrs. Atkins swiftly reached for her own purse and took out some money, counting out the exact change. "Thank you, Stallion," she said to him, collecting the bag. "Well, Kadija dear, I'm going on ahead to get things ready for when you come over, all right? I'll see you then." "Wait—would you like some help with that bag? It looks pretty heavy," Kadija observed. "How generous of you," Mrs. Atkins praised her. "All right, let's lift it together then." Nonetheless, the bag wasn't so heavy that the two of them together could lift it out to Mrs. Atkins' car with ease. "Thank you, dear; I should be able to manage it when I get home," Mrs. Atkins nodded to Kadija as they loaded the bag into the back seat. "All right, remember—6:30, okay?" "All right, Mrs. Atkins," said Kadija, going back inside the shop to collect her onions and seasoning. "I'll be there soon!" Waving farewell, Mrs. Atkins stepped into the car, driving off a moment later. "An interesting woman," said Kadija. "Miz Atkins is a nice lady, yu know," Stallion commented. "She been livin' around 'ere for all di 25 years dat she been teachin' at dat high school downtown. She have two children, bot' a dem grow up an' gone America, but her husband dead 'bout six years now." "She's a widow? Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," Kadija said sympathetically. "Uh-huh," Stallion grunted and nodded. "Ever since den, she hardly ever have any visitors to her yard, even though we all see her out and about di place all di while. Yu probably di first one she havin' over to visit in about two or t'ree months." "That long? I see..." Kadija looked out at the road where Mrs. Atkins's car had been parked moments earlier. "Guess she must really need the company, then..." -- As she turned the car into her driveway, Mrs. Atkins couldn't help but smile. To think that that Kadija Hopeton was the sister of Naomi Singh, Mrs. Atkins's favorite student from all those years ago...and that she had such a polite and respectful demeanor...and that she was going to be Mrs. Atkins's next-door neighbor now...it made the 55-year-old want to dance and sing, the way she felt so happy. She couldn't tell how long it had honestly been since she'd last felt so invigorated. Here, she felt, was someone to whom she could confide in deeply and personally, just as she'd been able to confide in Naomi six years ago, although that contact had lessened bit by bit with time and had ended with Naomi's marriage two years ago. Mrs. Atkins's own husband, to whom she'd been married for 25 happy years, was now dead and gone these last six, and everything they'd shared together she now held onto by herself. Her two children from that union, a son and a daughter, were both grown now with little ones of their own, and were raising them off in the land of the Red, White and Blue, though they periodically phoned her and brought their budding families to visit each Christmas. Still, Mrs. Atkins had felt quite alone save for the intermittent times she'd gotten to spend with Naomi and a few of her other past students. In fact, this type of confidence hadn't begun to be shared until roughly four months after her husband's burial, when one of her own longtime high school friends—herself a divorcee—had approached her with what she now called her "hobby." Aside from Naomi, Mrs. Atkins had managed to include quite a few younger women into her "hobby" over the next four years. Some were single women who'd been interested in trying something different; a few had been married women who'd been initially hesitant; but none of them ever left each encounter complaining. Then, starting two years ago, one by one they all stopped indulging in the "hobby" for one reason or another: some of the single ones, like Naomi, eventually got married themselves and didn't wish to endanger their happiness with their new spouses; some, including the majority of the married ones, migrated for parts unknown; at least one that she knew of had died of cancer. As a result, Mrs. Atkins had had to curtail her "hobby" activities, since by now there were few of her associates still around who could continue to meet with her and to whom she could "confide" in—indeed, the last time had been three months ago, with the same divorcee who'd introduced her to the "hobby" in the first place, and that had been meant as a farewell present since the woman was leaving for England to join her son and his family. If there was one thing Mrs. Atkins hated, it was the feeling of loneliness that had always pervaded her being. And these last three months, since she'd stopped actively pursuing her "hobby," she'd felt quite alone. In spite of her age, she was still attractive enough for men of varying ages—even those as young as her son, who was in his late 20's by now—to express interest; but always she'd politely turned them down. For her, no other man could ever take the place of her husband, to whom she'd surrendered her innocence and whose children she'd borne. That contributed much to her loneliness, even if she wouldn't admit it to anyone else. But now...here, right next door to her at that, an opportunity to relieve herself of that solitude, and perhaps to begin her "hobby" again, had arrived. Kadija Hopeton...the sister of Naomi, one of Mrs. Atkins's former "hobby" partners...she would do just fine. From Mrs. Atkins's visual but discreet examination of her back at the shop, the younger woman appeared to be early 30's, a little shy in spite of her politeness, and she certainly was an attractive woman physically. Skin the color of honey...beautiful hazel eyes...dark shoulder-length hair...full, pouting lips...and a set of very impressive curves set on a well-posed body, even though these had been muted somewhat by the well-fitting blouse and skirt she'd been wearing. Nice New Neighbor Mrs. Atkins's smile grew wider till she was grinning like a Cheshire cat. She didn't know yet whether Kadija would be open to sharing in her long-discarded "hobby," but the older woman felt sure that, with just the right amount of persuasion and by playing on the younger woman's shyness, she could do it. She stepped out of the car and toward her front door, bag of groceries in hand...and on her mind was the determination to ensure that everything would be in place to give her new neighbor a full and warm welcome. Later that evening, at 6:30... Kadija cleared her throat somewhat nervously as she walked up the driveway to Mrs. Atkins's front door. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she'd overdressed just to come next door for tea. However, she'd felt that it would seem too juvenile, especially to a woman as distinguished as Mrs. Atkins seemed to be, if she'd come wearing just a house dress or a T-shirt and shorts, or anything similar. So she'd chosen a dark blue blouse, a white knee-length skirt, and a pair of white high-heel shoes. Swallowing her anxiety, she knocked five times on the door, and waited. "Just a minute!" she heard Mrs. Atkins's voice calling from somewhere inside. A moment later the door opened, and there stood Mrs. Atkins herself—and Kadija couldn't help but be taken in at the older woman's appearance. Gone was the green dress of that afternoon; now she sported a bright red blouse and a black ankle-length skirt, with a pair of matching black pumps on her feet. Her hair was no longer held back in a bun, but now hung down past her shoulders. "Hello there, Kadija; I'm so glad you've come," she said, taking both of Kadija's hands in between her own. "Please, come in. I've just brought out the tea, too, so your timing is right on the mark." "I see," said Kadija smilingly. "Thank you for having me." "Of course, of course," said Mrs. Atkins. "Now, then, why don't you just have a seat over here, in the living room? I'll pour out tea for both of us." And she directed Kadija to a huge blue velvet couch in the rather large living room a few feet away. Seating herself, Kadija watched as, at the dining table only a few meters away, Mrs. Atkins lifted up a tray with tea accessories and brought it over. "I really like your house, Mrs. Atkins," she admitted. "Everything looks so...expensive." "Thank you, dear, but I don't really see myself as being rich," Mrs. Atkins said modestly as she began to pour out the tea into two cups on saucers. "I possess a lot of silverware and expensive china that I inherited from my dearly-departed great-aunt." She gestured with a nod of her head toward a few paintings and portraits that hung on the walls in view. "See those pictures? I've always been an art enthusiast, so my husband bought some of those for our eleventh wedding anniversary. And everything else that you see here, the furniture, the carpeting" –at which she tapped her foot on the ground, to point out the green carpet that lined the living room. "—everything came as a result of years of hard work and saving. We were always comfortable." "I see." Kadija accepted her cup and saucer from Mrs. Atkins and took a sip. "My, what kind of tea is this? The flavor is rather sharp, and it lingers on the tongue." Mrs. Atkins smiled as she looked at Kadija's reaction to the tea. "That's jasmine tea, dear," she explained. "Imported straight from China, and given to me as a gift by an old family friend who owns a business in New Kingston. Do you like it?" "It's good—it's very good." Kadija took another few sips; then she set the cup back into the saucer. "Um...so, you said you could help me to get a teaching job?" "Not myself, personally, but I do have a friend who's on the school board at one of the primary schools downtown," Mrs. Atkins explained. "From what he's mentioned to me recently, they just had to fire their appointed music teacher. They've been without a teacher for their music classes for about two weeks by this point, and my friend asked me if I knew anybody who could fill the gap for them." She looked intently at Kadija. "Tell me, Kadija...are you interested?" "Certainly! I'd be happy to!" Kadija replied brightly. "I like your enthusiasm," Mrs. Atkins smiled again. "All right. I'll have a word with my friend first thing Monday morning, and after that he should be able to set it up for you." "Thank you so much, Mrs. Atkins," Kadija said gratefully. Mrs. Atkins nodded, taking another sip of her tea. Just a little longer...stay patient... "All right, enough of business for a bit," she said aloud. "How is Naomi doing, pray tell? Last I heard from her, she'd gotten married..." "She's quite fine, actually," said Kadija. "She has twin boys now, and she and her husband manage his family's restaurant in St. Ann's Bay." "Ah, lovely, just lovely," said Mrs. Atkins. "When next you see her, let her know I said hello and am wishing her all the best." "I'll do that." Kadija licked her lips, suddenly nervous about broaching the next thing on her mind. "Um, Mrs. Atkins..." "Yes, dear?" Mrs. Atkins looked at her. "Well..." Kadija swallowed. "About your husband...I heard about his passing. I'm very sorry." Mrs. Atkins calmly sipped at her own tea before responding. "Thank you," she said softly. "It's been six years, but I still think about him often, and I do miss him." "I know the feeling..." Kadija said quietly. "Hmm?" Mrs. Atkins looked at her with an upraised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" "Oh...well..." Kadija shifted her position on the couch, feeling the back of her neck turn hot and prickly from embarrassment. "Well, it's just that...my husband, he...he died just last year." "Oh, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Atkins replied, immediately putting down her cup and saucer and gently taking Kadija's hands in her own, rubbing them in her palms. "I had no idea..." "It's—it's okay," said Kadija. "It's just...the way he died...and we'd been married six years...I never thought that it would be like that..." Her voice started to crack and her eyes began to shine with tears. Motherly concern washed over Mrs. Atkins as she looked into Kadija's face. In a sudden movement, she pulled the younger woman toward her into a tight hug. "There, there, child," she said soothingly, rubbing her hand on the back of Kadija's head and neck. With her face pressed so close to Mrs. Atkins's bosom, Kadija could easily smell the light whiff of perfume the older woman had sprayed on earlier. To her, the scent was reminiscent of roses. She...smells good... At present Kadija gently eased herself away from Mrs. Atkins. "Thank you...I think I needed that," she said softly, some of her composure having returned. "I guess...you and I do have a few things in common, after all..." "It would seem that way." Mrs. Atkins drew herself a little closer and reached for Kadija's hands again; she took one of them in between her own and rubbed it gently. "However, my own loss was not as recent as yours, so I've been able to bear with mine better than I suspect you were able to bear with yours. But...may I just offer you a word of advice?" Kadija looked at her questioningly. "Um...okay," she answered. "What is it, Mrs. Atkins?" Mrs. Atkins looked her straight in the eye, her expression serious for a moment. "My dear Kadija...it's good to grieve for a lost loved one...but don't ever let that grief become the focal point of your life. When people die, the only thing everyone else will do is go on living. And even though I was made a widow, that was what I had to do. And that is what you will need to learn to do as well." One of her hands then went up to Kadija's neck, touching her lightly; Kadija shivered at the gentle but somewhat unexpected contact. "Remember your husband, yes, but keep on living for the sake of his memory," Mrs. Atkins continued. "Don't wallow in the past...get up and move on with your own life. There are other, better things to do out there than mope over death." As she continued to speak, Mrs. Atkins's hand that was caressing the side of Kadija's neck now went up further, her fingertips lightly brushing against the edge of Kadija's ear while the tip of the older woman's thumb brushed against her cheek. Kadija unconsciously licked her suddenly-dried lips as she felt the 55-year-old's mildly cool touch on her own warm skin. "U-um...Mrs. Atkins..." "What is it, dear?" Mrs. Atkins asked softly, her roaming fingers pausing. Kadija quickly shook her head. "W-well...it's just that, um..." A questioning look appeared in her eyes. "What you said just now...about moving on with my own life...I mean, I know that grieving won't bring back my husband, but...how do I even start?" At that, Mrs. Atkins smiled gently. "Well...I have an answer for that, but...it's difficult to express in words," she admitted. "There is one method I was introduced to by a close friend...and I've found it provides a...delightful diversion." And then, as she said this, her fingers began roaming again, softly caressing Kadija's ear and neck. Kadija sucked in a little air through her teeth as she felt the fingers resume their exploring. Her body felt even warmer now; the hot, prickly feeling in the back of her neck had returned. Her eyes closed for a moment, then half-opened. "Uh...Mrs. Atkins, I...um..." She hesitated. "What...what did your friend do...?" "What did she do?" Mrs. Atkins repeated. "Well, my dear...what she did...was to show me how I could receive pleasure...from a woman." "From a...?" Kadija blinked at this revelation. "Mrs. Atkins...are you...um...are you...well...you know...?" Mrs. Atkins smiled a little more widely. "Does it bother you?" she inquired. "Well, I—I'm just surprised, is all," Kadija answered, shaking her head a little in amazement. "I've...never been approached by a woman before..." She glanced down as she felt the flat of Mrs. Atkins's thumb run gently across her bottom lip, even as the other woman's fingertips lightly caressed her cheek. "Do you want me to stop?" Mrs. Atkins asked quietly. "Or...shall I show you what my friend showed me...?" Kadija swallowed, hard. Indeed, she had never been in a situation like this before. Of course, she knew that lesbians existed, but she'd never once thought she'd actually meet one in person—or that that person would wind up being someone like Mrs. Atkins. And, after all, Mrs. Atkins was old enough to be her mother. And yet...Kadija was quite confused at this moment as to what she should do. And it wasn't helping matters that Mrs. Atkins's light and gentle touches and her soft voice had, up to this point, been sending a blush all over Kadija's body...including in a certain place that Kadija hadn't touched sexually in ages. Feeling an uncomfortable tingle between her legs, Kadija tightly pressed her thighs together. But still...Mrs. Atkins's touch didn't feel bad. No, it felt... Mrs. Atkins watched through slightly narrowed eyes as Kadija slowly responded to her continued caressing with her fingers. Gentle caresses and soft words were important, her divorcee friend had taught her back then, and six years later she was applying that lesson once again. Over the last six years she'd used the technique on quite a number of younger women, including Kadija's sister Naomi. Always it had succeeded before. But, Mrs. Atkins knew, there had been a considerable hiatus between now and the last time she'd used this method on a first-timer. Getting the desired result would now have to depend on Kadija herself. And Mrs. Atkins could see that, so far, it was working. The way Kadija was slowly closing her eyes...how her breathing became deeper...the way her fingers clenched tightly in her lap...the way she continued to rub her thighs together, although doing so as discreetly as she could. The 55-year-old decided to use words again...but this time she chose them carefully. "You're still a young woman," she whispered, leaning herself in closer to Kadija while still fondling her neck, ear and cheek. "But ever since your husband died...you've been abstaining from allowing yourself pleasure...haven't you? Answer me honestly." Kadija's breathing was slower, deeper. "...yes..." Mrs. Atkins nodded knowingly. "Have you even...touched yourself once...since that time?" Kadija's eyes opened halfway; she slowly shook her head. "...no..." In turn, Mrs. Atkins nodded. "All right, then, dear. Don't worry...I'll reintroduce you to that pleasure...I'll remind you of what it used to be like..." She placed her free hand gently on Kadija's chest, just above her breasts; she could feel the younger woman's heart racing by this point. "And I'll also teach you...how to receive pleasure from a woman...and how to give it back. You're in my classroom now...so I will teach you...if you'll allow me to." Again Kadija swallowed nervously, and much more audibly this time. "Um...well..." "You just relax, dear," Mrs. Atkins cooed. "We'll go slowly. We have plenty of time." She removed her hands from Kadija's cheek and chest, then stood up and walked a few steps in front of the younger woman. Then, as Kadija watched her, she knelt down on the carpet in front of the 30-year-old. "Now," she said quietly, looking up at Kadija. "Take off your shoes." Kadija's eyes widened at this instruction. "What? Why?" "Don't worry about a thing, my dear. Just take your shoes off." Mrs. Atkins nodded reassuringly. Kadija stared down at the older woman for a moment...then, heaving a sigh, she eased her feet out of her high heels. On seeing the younger woman's bare feet, Mrs. Atkins smiled even as she put the removed shoes to one side. "You have beautiful feet," she said softly, in an appreciative tone. Kadija blushed at this and turned her head away slightly. "They're not that pretty..." Mrs. Atkins chuckled and looked down at Kadija's neatly-pedicured toes. "Well, even if you don't think so, I do," she replied. "And I'm going to show you. Just lean back and relax." Not seeing any alternative, Kadija leaned back into the couch, settling herself. Looking down again, she watched as Mrs. Atkins took hold of her right foot and placed it in her lap, then began to massage it. Mrs. Atkins's hands were gentle but firm, soft but strong, as she lightly kneaded into Kadija's arch and instep with the pads of her thumbs. Holding all of the toes together in her palm, she lightly bent them forward, then bent them back; then, holding each toe between thumb and forefinger, she slowly rotated each toe clockwise, then counter-clockwise. Kadija had to admit to herself, it felt pretty good. In all honesty, she'd never had her feet rubbed before and had never even considered it. Even so, she couldn't deny that Mrs. Atkins certainly seemed to know what she was doing. She watched as the other woman rubbed around her ankle, then rubbed her heel, then rubbed between her toes, and then went back massaging her sole—doing all of this slowly and deliberately. At one point, with an impish grin on her face, Mrs. Atkins lightly ran the tips of her fingers along the length of Kadija's sole, from heel to toes, causing the younger woman to jump slightly from the ticklish friction. Mrs. Atkins then put Kadija's right foot to one side, placed the left foot in her lap, and began to massage it as well. She repeated the procedure, watching Kadija's face and smiling as she did. Kadija looked back at her, sucking on her own bottom lip in the process. Then Mrs. Atkins lifted Kadija's foot to her face and, still without breaking the eye contact and with the smile still in place on her lips, she opened her mouth and took Kadija's big toe in, closing her lips around it tightly. "Ah—Mrs. Atkins!" Kadija exclaimed, her eyes wide as she stared in astonishment at this unexpected phenomenon. Nonetheless, the smile on Mrs. Atkins's face only seemed to grow wider as she began to suck on Kadija's toe. She sucked it hard and deep, letting her lips slide up and down its length, letting her tongue slide against its underside. Then she removed her mouth from the big toe and let her tongue slide over the other toes, and even in between them. As she licked around the ankle and up and down the sole, she held the foot steady by the heel with one hand, running the other hand up and down the back of Kadija's leg. She could see that Kadija's face was flushed; the younger woman was licking her lips repeatedly now, and her breathing was no longer slow and deep, but short and gradually quickening. For her part, Kadija had never figured that feet could be treated in this way—all the blue movies she'd seen had never shown anything like that. It felt weird to be experiencing it, though not unpleasant in the least. In fact, as she watched Mrs. Atkins pick up her right foot again and start to suck deeply on the big toe, she felt the same twinge in between her legs from a moment before. Although...she became aware that as Mrs. Atkins licked and sucked on her toes, the older woman's eyes were no longer making contact with her own, but rather they were looking intently between her thighs. Blushing from embarrassment that Mrs. Atkins could see beneath her skirt, Kadija tried to squeeze her thighs together and pressed her hands against the edge of the skirt. "Do, don' look," she whispered, barely noticing the fact that the plea had not been made in perfect Standard English, but rather in the more common Jamaican patois. Mrs. Atkins presently stopped sucking Kadija's toes and stood up. Feeling quite discomfited, Kadija looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with the older woman. However, Mrs. Atkins had other ideas. "How cute," she chuckled. "A grown woman like you, acting like a shy schoolgirl. I like that." She placed her fingers under Kadija's chin, turning the younger woman's face to hers. "That was just for starters," she said gently. "Now here's what's going to happen. I'm going to make you cum...and cum...and cum again. And you're going to love every minute of it, I guarantee that." And then with that, she leaned her face forward and caught Kadija's lips in a kiss. This woman...is kissing me...I'm actually kissing...another woman... Kadija's mind was in a whirl as Mrs. Atkins placed light, gentle kisses on her lips. She inhaled sharply through her nose as Mrs. Atkins caught her bottom lip in her mouth and gently sucked on it. She felt the older woman placing a hand on her cheek, caressing behind her ear again and going down her neck; in response she let out a tiny yelp, which Mrs. Atkins quickly took advantage of by pushing her tongue inside. Kadija found her eyes closing and her lips parting more widely as the older, more experienced tongue lashed against her own and explored the cavern that was her mouth. With one hand Mrs. Atkins pressed against Kadija's chest, pushing her back into the couch. Kadija didn't—couldn't—resist as Mrs. Atkins leaned into her in turn, deepening the kiss a little more. She felt Mrs. Atkins's free hand rubbing one of her breasts through her blouse; almost immediately, she grabbed the older woman's wrist with one hand. But what surprised her was that she didn't try to pull the hand away, and that her free hand went to the back of Mrs. Atkins's head, running her fingers through the other woman's graying curls as their tongues played against each other. Finally Mrs. Atkins pulled away from the kiss for a moment, looking Kadija straight in the eye. "More?" she asked, her voice sounding strained. Kadija nodded slowly. "...more..." And she released her hold on Mrs. Atkins's wrist. Smiling again, Mrs. Atkins now stood up, lifting one leg after the other as she undid the straps on her pumps and kicked them off her feet. Then she undid the button and zipper at the side of her skirt, allowing it to fall to the carpet. Kadija looked on, fascinated, as Mrs. Atkins undid the buttons on her blouse and pulled it off. Soon, the older woman was standing before her younger neighbor wearing only a lacey blue bra and matching bikini-style panties. "Like what you see?" she asked softly. Nice New Neighbor Kadija felt her cheeks burning. "You...you look gorgeous..." she managed to say. And indeed, she couldn't help but admit it: Despite being 55, Mrs. Atkins WAS gorgeous. Without the benefit of her blouse hiding them, her breasts now seemed much larger, with the bra doing only so much to keep them in place. There were no signs of stretch marks anywhere on her body; she had a flat stomach and only slightly large hips. Mrs. Atkins mentally expressed gratitude that she'd kept to her daily exercise regimen all these years to maintain her figure, even after she'd gotten married, after the births of her two children, and following the death of her husband—she'd made it a point to always look as attractive as she still felt, so that the feelings would not be misplaced or outright false. And, judging from Kadija's expression, she knew her dedication had paid off. She stepped toward Kadija again, reached down and held the younger woman's hand, guiding it to in between her own legs. "Touch me," she instructed, with just a tiny hint of the authoritarian teacher in her otherwise gentle tone, as she stood with her thighs slightly apart. Her hand trembling from nervousness, Kadija did as she was bidden. In doing so, she marveled at the soft, smooth texture of the older woman's panties—and at the fact that, even through the panties, she could feel Mrs. Atkins's wetness. "Mrs. Atkins..." she whispered. "Would you like me to take them off?" Mrs. Atkins asked. Kadija looked up at Mrs. Atkins, then back down at the panties and her own hand still rubbing at them. "Um...okay..." Nodding assent, Mrs. Atkins hooked her fingers underneath the panties' waistband, slowly and carefully sliding them down to her knees. She then straightened up, shaking her legs a little and allowing the panties to fall to her feet. Kadija gulped as she examined what was in front of her: Mrs. Atkins's pubic hair was shaved, though not completely or in any particular pattern. Her vaginal lips could be seen hanging down a bit, looking rather shiny. "Put your hand back there, dear," Mrs. Atkins instructed her. Kadija complied, albeit a little more hesitantly. The area felt warm and slightly wet to her touch; tentatively, she moved her fingers back and forth across the lips, gasping a little as gradually she felt more wetness coming out on her hand. Looking up at Mrs. Atkins, she saw that the older woman's eyes were half-closed and that she was breathing deeply, her breasts heaving in her bra with each time she inhaled. "Stick a finger inside me...and rub your thumb on my clit," Mrs. Atkins told her, and here she reached down with both hands and pulled her lips apart, revealing a tiny nub of flesh that stood out from the rest of her pussy. Obediently, Kadija rubbed the tip of her middle finger at Mrs. Atkins's opening, slowly gaining entry and eliciting a quiet sigh from the older woman in the process. Inside was warm and felt almost like Vaseline; Kadija could feel the inner walls rubbing against her finger, contracting, squeezing it a little. Licking her lips, she pulled the finger out partway, then pushed it back in. At the same time, she did as Mrs. Atkins had told her and rubbed the flat of her thumb on the clit in slow, circular motions. As she did all this, she noted that Mrs. Atkins was beginning to slowly gyrate her hips in time to her fingers' rhythm, emitting long and contented sighs as she did. "Mmm...good girl...that's a good girl," Mrs. Atkins muttered. Thus encouraged, Kadija began to increase the pace of her thrusting finger and teasing thumb, though little by little. She looked on in wonder as it became easier and easier for her to go in and out of Mrs. Atkins's love hole—indeed, soon the finger was working like a piston, even as the thumb worried the clit. "Are you okay, Mrs. Atkins?" Kadija asked, looking up at her older neighbor even as she continued fingering her. Mrs. Atkins had her eyes closed, her mouth partially open, and her breathing had been coming in quick, short pants. On hearing the question, she glanced down at the younger woman. "Stop...take it out," she whispered. Kadija complied, and as she removed her finger it left a tiny trail of love juice behind. Mrs. Atkins promptly bent down and took Kadija's finger into her mouth, sucking the juice off. "Mm, that was good." She looked appreciatively at Kadija. "You're a quick learner...and you know how to follow instructions. I like that very much." "U-um...thank you," Kadija whispered, blushing. Mrs. Atkins then looked at her with narrowed eyes. "But I nearly forgot—this isn't about my pleasure now. It's about yours. I already promised to make you cum, after all." She stood up straight, hands on her hips. "Now...your clothes are in the way. Take them off." Taking a deep breath, Kadija proceeded to undo the buttons on her blouse, removing it and tossing it to one side. Then, as Mrs. Atkins continued to watch, she pulled off her skirt and tossed in the same direction as the blouse. She was now wearing a black bra with matching panties done in a high-cut style; at this point, she looked at Mrs. Atkins and, blushing yet again, hesitated. "You don't have to be so modest," Mrs. Atkins said to her gently. "I already let you feel me up, after all." Here she reached behind herself and undid her own bra strap, pulling off the bra and letting her breasts fall free. In spite of their now lacking support, they sagged only slightly—and again, Mrs. Atkins silently thanked her rigorous training regimen for keeping her assets as firm as possible. "All right," she continued, "now you're seeing all of me. So let me see all of you." Tensely, Kadija reached behind her back and undid the bra strap, removing it and a moment later the panties, so now she was sitting on the couch in front of Mrs. Atkins, equally as naked as her hostess. But immediately the differences between them became clearer: Kadija's breasts looked, predictably enough, much more firm than Mrs. Atkins's; but while the older woman's breasts were about the size of coconuts, the younger woman's breasts were shaped more like grapefruits. As well, although there wasn't a huge abundance of hair in Kadija's pubic region, it was definitely bushier than Mrs. Atkins's fairly trimmed crotch. Seeing all this, Kadija looked away, an expression of utter humiliation coming over her face, and she placed one hand over her own crotch and one arm across her breasts. Mrs. Atkins, however, shook her head at this display. "Look here, Kadija, I didn't tell you to take off your clothes so I could laugh at you," she said firmly. "I told you to show me all of you. Don't hide it." Hearing the authoritarian tone in her hostess's voice, Kadija relented, removing her hands from her privates. "But...you..." she started. "What about me?" Mrs. Atkins leaned forward and groped one of Kadija's breasts with one hand; Kadija gasped as the older woman began to knead the breast slowly and with knowledgeable precision, teasing the nipple with her thumb in the process. "You ought to appreciate your own body more, dear," Mrs. Atkins continued, the authoritarian tone gradually being replaced by that of the gentle instructor. "For goodness' sake, it's not like you're just entering puberty, you know. You're a fully-developed woman; be proud of what you have. And don't worry; I'll soon show you just how good enough you are as a woman." She leaned forward some more so that her mouth was close to Kadija's ear. "Now, spread yu legs—ah goin' suck yu pussy dry." Kadija's eyes widened—had she just imagined things, or had Mrs. Atkins, the woman she'd met at the shop that afternoon who championed the use of the Queen's English, just spouted Jamaican patois from her mouth? She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, for a moment later Mrs. Atkins was pulling her thighs apart and burying her face into the younger woman's snatch. "Mmmm..." Mrs. Atkins, from six years ago, had been taught by her divorcee friend to enjoy both the taste and smell of a woman's most feminine spot. In turn, over time she'd become something of a connoisseur in this area, sampling several flavors or combinations of flavors. Some women were sweet as honey; some were as sour as over-acidic citrus; many were salty; a few were fresh and without taste. With Kadija now, Mrs. Atkins mentally noted, she had an odd but light mixture of sweet and salt. The taste was not unpleasant, and Mrs. Atkins determined that she would have as much of it as she could before her mouth and jaw muscles eventually tired out. Slrp, slrp. Slrp, slrp, slrp. As she worked her lips and tongue and ate Kadija out to her heart's content, Mrs. Atkins noted the absence of something she'd come to despise. From her experience of watching American-made porn, she'd come away convinced that the women who appeared in these flicks were fakers who only lay down and let the men penetrate them in exchange for the money they were getting from it all. Much to her consternation, even two or three of the women she'd been with in the past six years seemed to have taken their cue from those porn stars, moaning loudly like dying cats or squealing like they were hogs being butchered instead of woman having actual orgasms. But not so with Kadija: she barely made any noise at all, aside from her heavy breathing and the occasional quiet sigh or moan. It was her body language that would be the real indicator of her arousal, Mrs. Atkins knew from experience—the way her hips slowly rocked back and forth in time to the older woman's oral ministrations, the way her red flush appeared on her face, her neck and just above her breasts, and her facial expression during the whole experience. And Mrs. Atkins couldn't help but smile into Kadija's crotch as she felt the younger woman's hand on top of her head, holding her face in place right where it was. Thus silently encouraged, she worked her tongue some more, meanwhile reaching both hands up to her guest's breasts. "Oh, yes..." Kadija moaned as she felt Mrs. Atkins's lips wrap around her clit and suck gently but insistently, as she felt the other woman's tongue lapping and poking at her womanly entrance. Opening her eyes a little to look down, she beheld Mrs. Atkins's cheeks bowed in from the effect of suction as she sucked away at the younger woman's core; meanwhile, her hands had left Kadija's knees, where they'd been keeping her legs apart, and were now up at her chest fondling her nipples. Groaning, Kadija leaned further back into the couch and simultaneously stuck her hips out more, enabling Mrs. Atkins's mouth easier access to her sweetness while at the same time allowing the older woman's hands to better reach her boobs. Slrp, slrp, slrp. Mrs. Atkins could tell now that Kadija was truly getting into the pleasure of being sucked. She used her fingers to lightly pinch and squeeze the younger woman's nipples, now stiff and hard from the attention they'd been receiving. Meanwhile, she pressed her tongue flat against Kadija's wet opening and licked up and down, then used the tip of her tongue to tease just underneath the clit. "Miz Atkins...Miz Atkins..." Kadija's voice was lifting a decibel or two, and she was slipping out of English and into patois. "Mi a go cum...nuh stop nyam mi out...ooooohh...yeah, right deh so...uuunnnhh...!" Kadija's flow of nectar was becoming stronger as her core seemed to open up on its own, Mrs. Atkins noticed. Removing her hands from the younger woman's breasts, the 55-year-old placed them under her thighs instead, at the same time licking and sucking away at her delicious snack more insistently. Slrp, slrp, slrp, slrp, slrp. And in the process, she sucked the clit into her mouth again, simultaneously applying suction while flicking it over and over with her tongue. While she did this, she was pleased to note that Kadija's hands were now rubbing her head with eager insistence even as her lower body jerked forward time and time again. Then Kadija's head and neck arched back, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hands inadvertently pressed down hard on Mrs. Atkins's head, and she felt an incredible heat rush through her body. "Miz Atkins...!" she yelped, gasping as her honey spilled out into Mrs. Atkins's face. Down below, Mrs. Atkins wasted no time, licking and sucking up what she could as her younger neighbor climaxed. It took a little while before Kadija began to come down from her orgasm-induced high. Her breathing was slow and deep, with her breasts heaving with each inhalation. The red flush was present again, and this time it seemed to be all over her body. "My goodness..." she managed to pant out. Mrs. Atkins lifted her head and licked her lips. Parts of her face were wet and sticky with Kadija; she wiped her fingers across her mouth and jaw, depositing that stickiness onto her hand. She then lifted two of her fingers to Kadija's face. "Taste yourself," she said quietly. Still in post-orgasmic bliss, Kadija had been running her hand through her own hair. She felt Mrs. Atkins's fingers touch her lips and heard the older woman's instruction; in response, she parted her lips, allowing Mrs. Atkins to slip those fingers inside. Kadija was immediately struck by how Mrs. Atkins's fingers tasted like...she couldn't quite tell, perhaps a mix between a sour orange and a mango? Whatever it was, though, tasting it sent a shockwave all over her tongue. "You like that?" Mrs. Atkins inquired. "That's how you taste." Kadija held Mrs. Atkins's wrist and pulled the older woman's fingers out of her mouth. "Oh, my...Mrs. Atkins..." Mrs. Atkins smiled at her knowingly. "So? How was it, dear? Your first orgasm after all this time of you depriving yourself..." "Uh..." Kadija blushed again. "It was...well...I don't know what to say, but...wow!" "Good enough." Mrs. Atkins smirked. "But still...it's not over yet. I have something else that I prepared especially for you, Kadija." "Really?" Kadija was curious now. "Yes." Mrs. Atkins stood up. "Just give me a minute to go fetch it, all right?" Then she turned and quickly headed out of the dining room. Watching Mrs. Atkins's departure for a moment, Kadija looked down at her own body with a sense of newfound wonder. She still couldn't believe that what had just happened, had happened—she'd just had a deliciously intense orgasm, and from a woman's attention at that. It was certainly the first time she'd ever had anybody go down on her—her past boyfriends before Nathan, to a man, had adamantly refused to put their mouths anywhere between her thighs, and she hadn't felt the need to ask Nathan himself if he wanted to try it. That Mrs. Atkins was so ready to do it, and do it so skillfully besides, made Kadija shake her head and laugh a little at just how much she'd missed out on in her sexual experience...which now seemed to make her a virgin compared to her older neighbor. Fascinated, she gently placed her hands on her breasts, rubbing her fingers across her still-stiff nipples, and was rewarded with the now-familiar tingle between her legs, as well as an extra tingle in each nipple. Sighing, she caught one nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently pinching and squeezing it as Mrs. Atkins had been doing moments ago, while her free hand dipped down to her mound of hair and caressed her sex. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the soft, wet, velvety feel of herself as she rubbed her hand up and down. On a whim, she inserted a finger into herself, and couldn't help the groan that escaped her throat even as it registered in the back of her mind that inside of herself seemed to feel like warm jelly. As she slowly pulled the finger out and then buried it in again, her hand that was teasing her nipple now crossed her chest to deal with the other nipple in like fashion. "So you decided to continue having fun by yourself, hmm?" Startled, Kadija looked up at Mrs. Atkins, who was standing in the passageway with an amused smile on her face, holding what seemed to be a small bottle in one hand. "Um...no, well, I..." she began, the blush creeping back on her face and neck. It was only then that she noticed something—and her eyes widened in utter shock when it fully registered in her brain. "Mercy...!" "So you finally noticed," Mrs. Atkins remarked, grinning as she put both hands on her hips. And...around her waist there was a black leather strap, with what appeared to be a harness tightly secured to her crotch by an additional strap that ran between her legs. And firmly attached to that harness was a large brown cock. "You like it?" Mrs. Atkins continued, stepping closer. "One of my friends in America sent it to me as a present last year, but this is the first time I'm actually using it." Her eyes still wide with astonishment, Kadija inspected the huge dong sticking out from Mrs. Atkins's crotch. Its color almost exactly matched Mrs. Atkins's own skin tone, so that were it not for the strap to which it was attached, it might have been mistaken as part of the woman's actual physical biology. Its design was modeled after a circumcised penis, complete with a smooth, round head, realistic-looking veins along its length and a large ball-sack right at the base where it was secured to the harness. From Kadija's mental estimation, it seemed to be approximately seven inches from head to balls, the ball-sack itself being an additional two inches in diameter, and the shaft seemed to be about two to three inches thick. Tentatively, Kadija reached up and touched it with her fingers; it felt simultaneously rubbery and solid. Kadija swallowed, then cleared her throat even as she continued to touch the huge dick. "Is whey yu a go wid dis ya cock?" she asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice as she asked the question in patois. Mrs. Atkins smirked down at her. "What happen? Yu ketch yu 'fraid all of a sudden?" she queried, also in patois. Blinking, Kadija looked up in wonder at Mrs. Atkins as she heard patois from the older woman's mouth again. Mrs. Atkins noticed the look and knew the reason for it. "Time and place for everything, child," she explained quietly, matter-of-factly. "And just because you hear me supporting good English, dat don' mean I can't speak or understand patois." She said this last bit with a mixture of the two. "And as for dis...what happen, yu neva get big hood from yu husban'?" "Well...'im was big, but not dis big..." Kadija explained, the fear still there in her voice. Mrs. Atkins reached forward with one hand and gently caressed Kadija's cheek. "Don't worry yourself, dear...I won't hurt you," she said soothingly. She then held up her other hand, showing the little bottle she was holding to Kadija. "Watch and learn, child." Licking her lips to moisten them, Kadija nodded. She looked on as Mrs. Atkins opened the bottle and squirted a clear fluid into her palm; then she blinked as she watched Mrs. Atkins reach down and slowly stroke the cock, spreading the liquid over and around its length and girth. The older woman rubbed the lubricant onto her strapped-on toy, till it was quite oily and shiny. "Okay, Kadija," Mrs. Atkins spoke to her guest again. "Hear what I want you to do for me now: get on your knees on the couch and spread your legs, and stick your ass out." Slowly, still with some trepidation, Kadija obeyed. As she assumed the position on the couch, behind her Mrs. Atkins smiled admiringly at the younger woman's smooth, firm ass cheeks, and at the tiny drops of love juice that still stuck to the hair around her pussy. Stepping forward, the older woman placed a hand on Kadija's ass, rubbing it fondly, while her other hand took hold of the big dick sticking out from her crotch. "Mrs. Atkins..." Kadija glanced behind her at her hostess. "Do, nuh bruise up mi pussy." "Nuh worry 'bout it, mi dear," Mrs. Atkins answered softly, a gentle smile on her lips. "Ah goin' tek good care of you." Nice New Neighbor Gripping the base of the shaft tightly in her hand, she placed the head against Kadija's pussy lips, rubbing it up and down against them. Kadija winced as she felt the head of the dick making contact with her most sensitive area and pushing onto it; she bit her lip and managed to stifle a groan as it penetrated her. Her fingers digging into the arm of the couch, she tried to relax while Mrs. Atkins slowly worked her cock in. And Mrs. Atkins was deliberately taking her time, mindful of the fact that Kadija had not engaged even in masturbation in one whole year. It was true that the dildo was big, but the 55-year-old felt sure that, with the right amount of lubrication, it could fit into any woman's love hole. Still, even with the lubricant that she'd just applied to the cock and Kadija's own natural moistness, she could feel through the cock that Kadija was pretty tight; so she didn't want to rush it or overdo it and risk causing the 30-year-old widow a great deal of pain. Kadija closed her eyes and sighed aloud as she felt the head of the dick fully enter her. It felt like it was stretching her a little, and there was a slight ache from that, but it wasn't an unwelcome feeling. Without even thinking about it, she eased her lower body towards Mrs. Atkins a little. Taking the hint, Mrs. Atkins slowly and gently pressed her hips forward, sinking her cock into Kadija another half-inch. Then, placing both of her hands on Kadija's upturned ass for leverage, she withdrew the dildo ever so slightly, then pressed forward again. Another inch went into Kadija; she sucked in air between her teeth as she felt the intrusion. "You okay?" Mrs. Atkins asked softly, rubbing Kadija's ass with her hands even as she withdrew a bit and thrust forward again, this time pushing in an additional half-inch. "Ah..." Kadija was panting; her skin was starting to shine with sweat. "I love it..." Mrs. Atkins pressed forward, managing to get another half-inch inside in the process. "More?" she queried. In reply, Kadija nodded in swift, short jerks. "More...!" There were still three inches that were not yet inside Kadija, but Mrs. Atkins knew better than to rush. She pulled her hips back, then carefully thrust forward again, sinking the cock into Kadija once more. As she pulled back again, she noted with a small smile that Kadija's nectar was now indeed coating the length of the shaft, providing added lubrication alongside the oil that she'd already covered the dildo with. Thus encouraged, she began a slow and steady pumping rhythm with her hips, wrapping one hand around Kadija's waist for support and running her other hand's fingertips lightly up and down the younger woman's back. "Mmmmm..." Kadija moaned low in her throat as her hole was slowly pumped. The cock-shaft was now making a faintly audible slsh, slsh noise as Mrs. Atkins drove it in and out of Kadija's body. Bit by bit, as well, the remaining inches were being pushed into her with every thrust. As the cock slid in and out, Kadija couldn't help feeling simultaneously stuffed and empty on each plunge...and now couldn't help but groan aloud as the tingling sensation from before now extended throughout the entire inside of her warm, wet hole. Slsh, slsh. Slsh, slsh. Kadija whimpered as she felt the huge, long shaft slowly sliding in and out of her aching pussy. Eyes tightly shut, she licked her lips as she felt the delightful sensation sear through her entire body with each stroke. The truth was, ever since Nathan had died, she'd felt in her heart that to be with anybody else would be a betrayal of her vows to him and her memories of him whether he was dead or alive. It still amazed her, therefore, that this new neighbor of hers could have convinced her to do this. Again, and again, and yet again, she felt the shaft pulling out of her body until only a mere inch of it was left; then with a swift hard push, all of it was back inside her, filling her up and drawing a gasp from her in the process. There was no way she could have foretold, when she moved into this new neighborhood, that she would ever have been in such a depraved position. She'd only come over here intending simply to get better acquainted with Mrs. Atkins, and here she was, on her knees on the couch with her upper body leaning over the couch's arms, while behind her this older woman was pumping into her with a good degree of force backed by years of obvious considerable experience. Her eyes cracked open a little, but she didn't dare turn her head around to look behind her. Instead, she let the rest of her body tell her what was going on: Mrs. Atkins's hands, full of gentle authority, were holding her waist in place, even as the shaft drilled into her some more. On one thrust, it caused a bit of Kadija's love juice to drip out and leak onto the couch; the sensation sent a delicious feeling through Kadija, causing her to groan even as her toes curled tightly. "Whoooiiii...laaawwwd...mi love yu cocky..." she moaned out, hissing through her teeth a moment later as the shaft slid deep into her pussy again. Behind Kadija, Mrs. Atkins couldn't help but smile as she heard the younger woman's declaration. Though she still held fast to her support for use of Standard English, she couldn't deny that hearing Kadija—a young woman with a self-admitted family background of proper spoken language—speaking in the common Jamaican vernacular was incredibly erotic. She leaned her upper body forward so her face was close to Kadija's ear; meanwhile, her hands kept a firm grip on Kadija's waist, even as her lower body strength maneuvered the strapped-on cock in and out of her neighbor's pussy. "Yu like dat?" she whispered in patois. "Mmm...aahhh...Mrs. Atkins...I love it..." Kadija whimpered. Mrs. Atkins smiled at this—even in the midst of utter ecstasy, Kadija was still addressing her so formally. "Call me Auntie," she said, sticking her tongue out to lick the edge of Kadija's ear. As taboo as the idea sounded, it got Kadija's pussy wetter and hotter. "Ahh...Auntie..." "Yu love mi cock?" Mrs. Atkins asked, as she began to drive the dildo in deeper and harder. "Mi love you big cock, Auntie," Kadija gasped out. "Do, mi a beg yu, fuck mi pussy red!" The 55-year-old needed no further urging from the younger woman. Tightening her hold on Kadija, she began to increase her pace, pumping the dildo in and out. With every thrust, there accompanied it the same slsh, slsh sound from before. "Mi wan' yu fi cum," Mrs. Atkins told Kadija, her breathing heavy from her exertion but still containing authority. "Yu hear wat I say, likkle gal? Yu must cum. Mi wan' hear yu scream when yu cum. Yu hear wat I say?" "Yes, Auntie, yes, Auntie," Kadija grunted out, even as she reached between her legs with one hand to rub her swollen clit. Hearing the younger woman talking like that increased Mrs. Atkins's fervor; she drove the dildo in further, enjoying the friction of the strap on her own crotch. And she enjoyed hearing Kadija squealing like a schoolgirl, even though in a far different setting she would've acted like the 30-year-old woman she was. "Yes, Auntie...aaiieee...yu buddy big...it inna mi belly...woooiii...mi can' tek it...lawd have mercy...aahhh..." Kadija cried, rubbing her clit harder and faster. Slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh. Finally Mrs. Atkins decided to go for the finish. She gave three swift, short strokes of the strap-on—then buried the full length into Kadija's pussy, ripping into her with one hard, solid thrust. And, on feeling that thrust, Kadija's head reared up, her eyes snapped fully open, and she shrieked as her orgasm exploded from within her. "AAAAIIIEEE, AUNTIIIIEEEE!!!" Kadija's whole body shuddered even as her breath came in short, loud gasps. Feeling a warm, sticky wetness against her crotch where she'd just pushed the cock's full length into the younger widow, Mrs. Atkins glanced down and noticed with delighted surprise that love juice was leaking out in seemingly endless amounts from Kadija's pussy, onto the strap's harness and dribbling down Kadija's thighs as well. A few drops of her cum were even dripping from her swollen pussy lips as well, onto the seat of the velvet couch. "Well, now, that was intense, wasn't it?" Mrs. Atkins teased, rotating her hips against Kadija's ass even as the dildo remained submerged inside the younger woman. "Ooooohh..." Kadija, in turn, wiggled her ass against Mrs. Atkins. "Yu sure yu never use dis t'ing before?" she asked, referring to the dildo. Mrs. Atkins laughed. "Positive." Then, pressing her hands against Kadija's ass, she began to pull the dildo out of her younger neighbor. It came out rather slowly, but finally exited Kadija's pussy with a wet plop; almost immediately Kadija collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily. "So, dear, how do you feel? Satisfied?" Mrs. Atkins inquired, pausing to run her fingers along the length of the dildo. Kadija soon recovered her composure somewhat. "Well..." She smiled shyly. "Is this what I'm to expect if you're going to be my next-door neighbor for the long-term?" "Well, that's up to you. If you'd rather we didn't do this again..." Mrs. Atkins began. "After what you just did to me? I highly doubt that you'd let it end with just this," Kadija countered. "And...anyway...it really wasn't bad, I have to admit..." She blushed a little as she said this. "You really are a smart woman." Mrs. Atkins nodded at Kadija; then she turned to look at a clock mounted on a nearby wall. "Hmm, 8:15...time sure flies when you're having fun, huh?" "8:15?" Kadija turned to look in the direction of the clock. "Is it really that late already?" "Late?" Mrs. Atkins's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'd say that this is early, quite early...unless you have a pressing appointment tomorrow?" "Well, er...no..." Kadija answered hesitantly. "Oh, I see. Then perhaps your unpacking from the move wasn't finished, after all?" Mrs. Atkins suggested. "Um...no, that's not it..." Kadija admitted. "Then there's no reason for you to run off so quickly." Mrs. Atkins smirked and gripped the base of the dildo, playfully waving it up and down a little. "There's still quite a bit of time to...get more fully acquainted, wouldn't you say?" A look of utter astonishment came over Kadija's face as the implication sank in. "Lawd 'ave mercy..." -- Much later, at 10:50... "Uuunnnhhhh..." Kadija sighed loudly as the big cock slid in and out of her well-lubricated pussy. "It sweet...it too sweet..." The women had earlier relocated themselves to Mrs. Atkins's guest bedroom, across the hall from the dining room. At current they were together on the bed, both of them lying on their sides parallel to each other; Mrs. Atkins was behind Kadija, one hand underneath the younger woman's upraised leg, while her hips thrust forward, stabbing her strapped-on dildo into her guest's hole again and again. "Kadija..." Mrs. Atkins whispered into Kadija's ear. "Ah hope yu don' mind dat ah takin' over yu husban' role like dis..." "Mmmmm...no...is okay, Auntie," Kadija mumbled. "'Im dead an' gone a'ready." Hearing that, Mrs. Atkins smiled—it seemed that Kadija remembered the solemn, heartfelt advice the older woman had given her hours earlier. Tightening her grip underneath Kadija's upraised and helplessly flailing leg, she thrust her hips forward a little harder, jerking Kadija's lower body as the dick penetrated her again and again. Slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh. "Oh, lawd...Auntie..." Kadija whimpered, leaning her head back to rest against the crook of Mrs. Atkins's arm. "Ah which part yu 'ave so much energy ah come from...?" Mrs. Atkins chuckled at that. Removing her hand from under Kadija's airborne leg, she reached for and cupped one of the younger woman's bouncing tits, squeezing and kneading it and being rewarded with a sigh of approval. "Now, den," the older woman continued gently, but with a hint of mischief in her tone, "what yu t'ink of dis? Since di two of us is neighbors, we can 'ave regular visits to each other...say, every weekend an' when we not doin' anyt'ing durin' di week?" Kadija smiled lazily. "Dat soun' nice," she whispered, gasping a moment later as the dildo pushed up into her body yet again. "Good. Glad you agree." Mrs. Atkins leaned forward and licked the back of Kadija's neck, eliciting a soft moan from the 30-year-old. Meantime, the older woman's hips continued pumping back and forth, and her cock pistoned in and out easily. Slsh, slsh, slsh, slsh. "Gaaawwwd...Auntiiiieee...ah goin' cum again..." Kadija moaned, her eyes half-closed and sweat glistening on her breasts. "It's all right," Mrs. Atkins cooed into her ear. "You can cum." And as she said this, her hand left Kadija's breast and went down between the younger widow's legs, teasing her throbbing clit even as the dildo continued to pump in and out of Kadija. Feeling Mrs. Atkins's hot breath and tongue against her ear and hearing her grunts of effort with each thrust...feeling her clit being tenderly and expertly pinched, caressed and massaged by those mature fingers...feeling that dick pounding into her now-sore pussy...it sent Kadija over the edge. "Oh, fuck...aaahhh...aaaaahhhhh...aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" she cried out as her whole body stiffened and shuddered and her vaginal juices squirted out onto the bed. Even with that climax, though, Mrs. Atkins continued to pump Kadija with the strap-on, but not with as much force as before; gradually, her thrusting slowed to a stop as, with one final slow push, she buried the full length of her cock into Kadija's now thoroughly-fucked pussy. As for Kadija, the combined excitement of all the orgasms she'd endured that evening was beginning to take its toll on her; the last thing she was consciously aware of before she passed out from exhaustion was her upraised leg falling to the bed and Mrs. Atkins carefully pulling the dildo out of her hole...and the last thought to cross her mind was how very interesting her new life in this place might well turn out. Several days later... Stallion was sitting on a stool behind his shop's counter, reading the newspaper he'd bought downtown earlier that morning. "Damn politician dem," he scowled as he read through the headlines. "Afternoon, Stallion!" a cheerful voice reached his ear. "Eh?" Stallion looked up. "Oh, afternoon, Miz Kadija. 'Ow yu do today?" Kadija entered the shop, a bright smile on her face. "I'm just wonderful, thank you," she answered. "You know, Mrs. Atkins had set up an interview for me to teach at a primary school downtown, so I went down there today to talk to the people in charge...and they told me that I can start this coming Monday!" "Congrats, ma'am!" Stallion grinned. "Yu mus' mek sure yu stop over Miz Atkins's yard and tell her t'anks, yu know. Is di respec'ful t'ing to do, after wha' she do for yu." "Don't worry, Stallion, I intend to go over there a little later and see her," Kadija nodded. At that moment the familiar white Tesla Roadster pulled up outside the shop, and out stepped its owner. "Hello, hello," Mrs. Atkins sang out politely as she stepped into the shop. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Atkins," Kadija smiled at her. "I got through with the interview at the school today, you know, and they said I can start first thing Monday morning. I really have to thank you for everything you've done." "Certainly, my dear; I'm glad I was able to help," Mrs. Atkins nodded, reaching out and patting the side of the younger woman's arm. "Tell me something, will you be busy this evening?" An inquiring expression appeared on Kadija's face. "No, I don't think so...why?" "Well, I was thinking I'd have some beef soup for dinner tonight...but I really wouldn't like to eat all of it by myself." Mrs. Atkins turned to Stallion. "Do you have any steaks, Stallion? I'd like two pounds' worth if you do." "All right, Miz Atkins, lemme go cut some for yu," Stallion nodded, and he got up and headed around to the back. Mrs. Atkins turned back to Kadija. "So? What do you say—feel like having beef soup tonight?" "I'd be glad to," Kadija nodded politely. "Will you need any help looking about it?" "Thank you, dear, but you're going to be my guest—and the guest shouldn't have to help with the cooking," Mrs. Atkins said reasonably. "You can come by, say, about 6:00." "All right," Kadija nodded in agreement. "6:00 it is." Mrs. Atkins glanced to one side, making sure that Stallion was out of earshot. "An' when yu come, yu see," she added in a low voice, in patois, "mek sure yu bring a change ah clothes. Today is Thursday...and after di soup, ah inten' fi have dessert again an' again till Sunday..." She licked her lips. Kadija blushed at this display—she knew well what her neighbor had in mind. "Miz Atkins!" she hissed in playful rebuke, also in patois. "Yu too bad fi a grown 'oman!" "I know, I know," and Mrs. Atkins laughed softly. END Nice New Neighbour I stood in my dressing gown in my bedroom window watching my hubby walking down our gravel drive way and into his Audi; I've been married to him for 10years and with him for 13. I was 18 when I met him and he was 25 and he whisked me off my feet, he dazzled me with trips to flash restaurants, movie premiers and trips to Paris and Rome to name a few, I even joined the mile high club in that time as well. He went to the gym keeping himself trim and toned and his dark hair was always well kept and slicked back and he always wore the best clothes and smelt fantastic. Before I met him I'd only had sex with one other person which seemed mediocre at the best compared to Ken my hubby, the sex was exceptional I'd never had multiple orgasms before but they became a regular thing and he taught me to appreciate having a cock to play with, enjoying the feel of it, the taste of it and I'd already learnt that I loved the taste of cum and the texture of it, it turned into a fixation of mine I needed to have my fix of cum once a day and Ken never seemed to argue. Now however everything had changed he no longer went down the gym meaning his toned body was now more rounded and wobbly, the slicked back dark hair was now grey and there wasn't much left to slick back but more like comb over and I couldn't remember the last time he had taken me out to a restaurant or even the cinema and don't get me started on the sex, he seems to have forgotten what foreplay is and rolls onto me for a couple of minutes squirms and grunts before unloading himself inside me and rolling over and falling fast to sleep, that is then my cue to head to the bathroom with my favourite toy and a naughty fantasy to climax over but now even that was getting a little tedious. I watched as my hubby turned left out the driveway and was gone, I was about to turn and get ready when I heard our neighbour's front door close. He had moved in a week ago and I'd only caught glimpses of him and I was being nosey and wanted to see more. His skin colour was the darkest I'd even seen which seemed to draw me closer to the window, he opened the boot of his car and reached in and pulled a box out, the grey vest top showing off his heavily muscled toned arms bulge and flex as he carried the box inside. He came back out and shut the boot and then turned and walked towards the small fence which separated our driveways he put a hand on the fence and easily hopped over. My heart started racing as he got closer to our front door but why? What was it that was drawing me to him? The doorbell rang and I quickly tied my long blond hair up into a pony tail and had a quick look in the mirror and even though I hadn't had a chance to put any make up on yet I did look semi respectable. I tied my white dressing gown up at my waist and pulled the collar slightly apart to flash more skin than normal of my enhanced 34DD's. I skipped down the stairs which joined the hallway leading to the front door, his shadow filling the frosted glass of the door. One final check in the hallway mirror and I opened the door to him. "Hi" I said greeting him with a smile and half leaning on the edge of the door my bare leg coming out of the front of the gown up to mid thigh. He looked down on me his 6ft 4 frame filling the doorway, his dark eyes flicking from mine to my bare leg with the faintest of smiles playing across his lips and then he spoke. "Hi, I'm Deej from next door" he said in a deep voice whilst pointing a thumb next door. "Nice to finally meet you Deej, I'm Tracy" I held out a hand and he obliged taking gently but with a certain firmness, my petite white hand looking good against his dark skin. "Good to meet you, I've got a package being delivered and wondered if you wouldn't mind accepting it if I'm not in?" "Not a problem" I replied, at least it means he has to come back round and gives me another excuse to see him. "Is it anything exciting? Sorry, look at me being nosey" "It's only camera equipment and thanks for doing this it just saves me another chore of the seemingly endless ones I've got to do" After he had gone I raced back upstairs and got the bath running. As I was waiting for it to fill my mobile rang, it was Ken. "Sorry to do this to you but it looks like I'm going to be late home tonight" "Uh huh, thanks for letting me know" I said hanging up, oh well I thought to myself even more reason for some flirty, sexy fun with the new neighbour. I sunk down into the hot bubble bath and found myself thinking of Deej and what has was like under those clothes, "Is it a myth about black men or not? I wouldn't mind finding out myself" I thought. I caught my hands squeezing my nipples as I thought more about him with my pussy having that old excited tingling feeling I use to have. I set about shaving my legs taking great care in getting them as smooth as possible and then further up above my pussy I left a short 1/2 inch by 2 inch strip of hair which made me feel very naughty. I finished washing and got out the bath and wrapped a towel around me and walked along the landing to the bedroom and closed the curtains before dropping my towel to the floor and standing in front of my full length mirror. I looked up my tanned and toned legs running a hand up each one making sure they where as smooth as they looked, my new landing strip looked good and stomach was still flat. My boobs where pert thanks to the surgery to take them from 34B to 34DD and I couldn't be happier with them but Ken didn't care for them really but he did say my best feature was my bum which I turned and looked at in the mirror giving it a playful slap as I did and had a little giggle to myself. "Now then" I said "Time to get the sexy stuff out" I went to my chest of draws and rifled through until I found what I was looking for. I pulled up my small sheer blue lace g-string and then wiggled into my white denim mini skirt which just about covered my pert bum, next came my sheer blue plunge bra with a pink bow in the middle. I adjusted my boobs so they were comfortable and looked back in the mirror and plumped them up so they were at their fullest and over the top a put a long white cardigan on which went just below my mini skirt, I did one button up across my tits and stood in front of the mirror again and nodded at my own handy work. I sat down at my dressing table and straightened my hair before putting my makeup on and finished off by painting my nails bright red. I was on my way downstairs when the door bell rang. I opened the door to a delivery man from DHL who's eyes widened immediately and mouth opened "Just the reaction I was looking for" I said to him to which he seemed to loose the power of speech and just handed me a parcel and the clip board to which I signed and dated it "Have a good day now" I said to him closing the door smiling to myself. I walked along the hallway pass the door on my right leading to the living and into the dining room at the end of the hallway and put the parcel on the table and sat on the small 2 seat sofa we also had in the room, I picked up a magazine and thumbed idly through it and waited the anticipation and excitement growing but I didn't know why, my heart beating fast in my chest. I didn't have to wait to long and when the door bell rang my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I stood up and wriggled my skirt down a little to get rid of the creases and went to the door, looking in the mirror to adjust my boobs again and put a little pout on my lips and this time I opened the door fully to great Deej. His eyes took me in as he stood there and I watched his face and his eyes going wide as he tried to keep himself composed. "I've got the parcel" I said "Do you want to come in" I didn't give him a chance and took his hand and pulled him in, he pushed the door shut and I kept hold of his hand and walked down the hallway my feet padding softly on the wooden floor as I gave an extra wiggle to my bum. I let go of his hand as we got into the dining room "Please, make yourself comfy. Would you like a drink?" "Just an orange will be fine please" "Fresh orange OK?" "Perfect" he replied taking a seat on the sofa, I'm glad he sat there because you can see into the kitchen. We chatted idly as I went to get a couple of glasses from cupboard which meant stretching up to get them, my skirt raising and revealing the curvature of my bum I stood on tip toes for longer than I needed. I padded softly across the kitchen floor and could see him looking which was what I wanted, opening the fridge door I got the orange out and stood in front of it the chillness cooling my hot skin and making my nipples stiffen and poke through my bra and cardigan top. Handing him the drink I noticed his eyes fixed on my hard nipples "See something there you like?" I asked "I can see a couple of things" he replied sipping his juice and looking up at me. I smiled at him and took his drink from him and placed it on the floor and then knelt over him, my skirt being pulled taught as I straddled him, my sheer blue g-string now on show. I undid the one button doing up my cardigan and he helped slip it off my arms, his hands going straight to my bra clad tits squeezing them my nipples responding by getting harder. My hands resting on his shoulders pushing my boobs together for him my heart pounding as I felt his hot breath through the material, he reached round and with a practised move unclasped my bra and pulled it towards him and off my arms. I started squirming on his lap wriggling as his hands got on my bare skin, his big black hands gliding over my boobs making me tingle, I then lent forward pushing my boobs into his face his mouth finding a nipple, licking, flicking and sucking it whilst rolling the other between forefinger and thumb and swapping to the other. My nipples where super sensitive after the enhancements and I let out a soft moan as I put a hand in his lap and felt what seemed to be a log in his dark blue jeans. "I can see it's not a myth about black men then?" I said with a horny grin, I now wanted to feel his manliness in my hand, to caress it and then to taste it. "Some of us even break that mould" he replied grinning at me. As I backed off of him I ran a hand down his dark grey vest top, feeling his manly chest and down onto his flat hard stomach and grabbed at his belt to stand him up as I knelt in front of him. I ran my hands up under his vest top running my nails down his 6 pack, he pulled his top off and it had been a while since I'd felt a torso like that. I kissed at his stomach as my hands undid his belt, then his button then slowly unzipping his fly as I licked my lips looking up at him as I tugged the jeans down. He stepped out of his jeans and I looked at this massive lump curling down one leg inside his tight white CK boxers. I breathed on it through the material with my hand gently squeezing it; I felt it respond with a slight twitch. Looking back up at him I hooked a finger in either side of his waist band and slowly pulled them down, his short dark curly hair coming into view as I teethed his cock through the white material. Pulling his boxers down further the thick base of his dark brown cock came into view, further still I pulled and his big balls popped into view on either side. Licking the shaft I carried on slowly edging his boxers down until his hard cock sprung out and slapped me under my chin, I leaned back pulling his boxers all the way down and admired his 10" thick cock, it was straight as an arrow pointing right at me. Raising a hand I clasped at the base of his cock my white fingers curling round the thick shaft my red lip sticked lips parted and I tasted the end of his cock, slowly at first working my lips and tongue around his swollen helmet before lifting his cock and licking down his long shaft to his balls, my hand gently wanking his cock as I licked, sucked and nuzzled his balls taking each in turn into my hot mouth and letting them go with a load suck. I licked and kissed back up his shaft my hand pushing his meaty cock into my face, I started sucking long and hard on his cock my wet mouth making his shaft glisten. My hand wanking as my mouth sucked hard and noisily on his hard thick cock, I spat on his cock and rubbed it in looking up at him as I did. He reached down and squeezed my tits and pinched my nipples again a little whimper escaping my mouth as tried to force more cock into my mouth a moan escaping his mouth as well, I looked up to see his head back and his eyes shut my hand twisting up and down on his cock following my mouth, my tongue wrapping wound the ridge of his helmet. I lent back and spat into the valley between my tits then pushing them together rubbing the spit between them as I positioned his cock between them. Deej didn't need asking twice and he started to thrust at my tits, the head coming through and to my mouth as his balls slapped against me. I could feel my pussy becoming wetter and wetter and just longing for some attention, he pulled his cock back and slapped my big tits with his cock as I ran a hand between my legs to the sheer material of my skimpy G-string; the material was wet as I started rubbing my clit through the material. I started wanking his cock with my other hand faster and faster into my mouth as I pushed harder and harder on my clit through the material. Deej pulled me to my feet and pulled my g-string to the side and slid his two middle fingers deep inside me curling them forward hard and fast over and over again and I came there and then on his fingers, my pussy clamping and trying to milk them, my legs going weak and shaking. He held me up as my hole body shock and trembled my eyes shut my mouth slightly open his tongue was then in my mouth tangling with my tongue, I kissed him back and opened my eyes a string of spit hanging from mine to his mouth. "Fuck me now!" I said hornily turning round to lean over the glass dining room table, I put one leg up on the table and looked back at him as he approached me slowly wanking his big black cock. He slapped my bum with it before rubbing my pussy with it, I pushed back towards him and he pulled away with a little grin on his face before he stepped forward and with an easy move pushed the tip of his cock inside me. I gasped as he pushed into me looking back at him, his hands on my hips as he pushed further in until he was all inside me, filling me, I'd never felt anything like it and I loved it, he pulled back and then slammed back into me. We got into a steady rhythm his cock feeling great in me and I was well on my way to another orgasm, I reached between my legs and started rubbing my clit again pushing back on his cock harder and faster and faster, my breath caught in my throat, my eyes closed and my back arched until I was cumming on his cock. My pussy clamping and trying to milk his cock as I pushed back and held myself there, my hand on his bum my nails digging in, my whole body writhing and grinding on his cock. He pulled his cock out my juices looking good on his cock making a tide mark at the base. I got off the table my body leaving a sweaty imprint on the glass. He laid me down on the floor and I tweaked my own nipples as I watched Deej with cock in hand kneel down between my legs and guide his hard cock into my slick, sticky pussy. He pushed my legs high and wide and began fucking me well again, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, watching the muscles flexing and moving under his skin, his big black cock sliding into my wet white pussy with his sweaty balls slapping against me, my tits swaying back and forth under his momentum I pushed them together which seemed to spur him on even more. He was grunting and groaning more and more and more until he pulled his cock out of my pussy and held the end of it and stood over me and jerked it forward, a long stream of thick spunk flew out of his cock and splattered in between my eyes making me flinch, another stream flew straight into my open mouth and another, another splattered my right cheeks, another hit my forehead, another landing in my hair, two spurts covered my tits rolling down the side in between my tits, he was still wanking furiously cum flying over my face and tits, I could feel cum running all over my face and neck and landing on my tits. He finally finished cumming and I swallowed what I had in my mouth before reaching up and taking his cock in my hand and propping myself up on one elbow I took his cock in my mouth and sucked the last few drops of cum out and then licked down his sticky shaft, cleaning my juices off for him. Deej looked down at me and smiled "If only I had my camera" he said "Well I suppose we'll have to do this again then........soon" I replied licking up cum off of my tits "Definitely! I best be going I actually do have things to do" "Apart from fucking white women?" "Apart from fucking beautiful white women" He said getting dressed, taking his parcel and leaving me in a sticky mess on the floor using my fingers to scoop up the cum and drop it into my mouth.