****** Mirror Marlene by Ulyssa Kincaid ******
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Mirror Marlene


Mirror Marlene - From the Notebook of Ulyssa Kincaid

Who would have thought that one of life's little ironic pleasures would hinge
on a memorably ugly bowling bag? It happened on my last birthday, I'd just
turned forty-one. My family had made a big deal about my fortieth birthday the
prior year. I'd been surprised at the house Jeremy built with a huge party, gag
gifts, male stripper, the whole works. But now that I'd reached the ripe old
age of forty-one, my birthday was obviously just another workday. My husband
toiled a thousand miles away at a week long business seminar; both of our
daughters were away at two different colleges; even the cat had disappeared for
two or three days.

So I began celebrating my birthday on my own by watching the sunrise at the
bottom of a tequila glass. Then I watched another sunrise and another. As I
walked through this labyrinthine house that my husband, Jeremy, had built, I
knew that basically it was just the world's most beautiful cattle barn designed
to keep me and the rest of his possessions penned inside. My best friend, Gina,
had always told me that what I needed was to have an affair with a real man
who'd not only take my body out of Jeremy's stockade, but steal my heart as
well. Of course, Jeremy informed me that Gina was white trash, and he didn't
want me to associate with her.

I continued to pace the walls inside my expensive cage. Soon I passed the large
wall length mirror. Naturally, I waved to Mirror Marlene. "Happy birthday,
Marlene," I called out. Mirror Marlene lifted her half empty cocktail glass
toward me, and we saluted our birthday by draining the last drops of our fourth
tequila sunrise together. "I believe we're out of tequila, Marlene," The lady
in the mirror told me. "Have you got some more stashed over there in mirror-
land?" I asked. Marlene laughed at me, since we both knew that I needed to go
out to buy another bottle. "Have you seen my jacket?" Of course she had. It was
still on a hanger in the closet that Jeremy designed.

In the fleeting moments before nine: forty-five AM, I was out of the house and
off to the liquor store. That was where the trouble started. First when I
parked my car, I nearly hit a street lamp post where a tall thin young black
man in a hooded gray sweatshirt stood next to an ugly purple and green bowling
bag. He quickly turned his face away from me, but not before I noticed some
disfiguring scars around his mouth. But the tequila was the big thing on my
mind. "Lady, it looks like you've already started celebrating," the cashier
said. "You know I can't sell booze to you when you've been drinking."

"But it's my birthday!" I said quietly getting a signal from Mirror Marlene who
was loitering on the surface of a glass counter to try a few tears to induce
the clerk.

By then a few more people had begun to form a line behind me. None of us
noticed the dark figure who came up softly behind us, and neither Mirror
Marlene nor I reacted until it was too late. "All right, people, everyone sit
down on the floor," a hoarse falsetto voice sneered. "Empty your wallets and
the cash register and nobody will get hurt." The liquor store I frequented was
being robbed by a young black man with a black ski mask, his desert storm style
field jacket covered most of what appeared to be a generic gray hooded
sweatshirt, he carried a 9 mm automatic, and lugged a brown grocery bag into
the store.

Quickly, thoroughly, the young man took the money from the two cash registers,
my money, and close to a thousand dollars from three businessmen in the store.
Strangely enough, though the young black man had taken all of our money, he
left us our credit cards. As I noted the strange scars on his lip which could
be perceived at the mouth hole of his ski mask, I was sure I saw just a glimpse
of an ugly purple and green bowling bag hidden just outside the front door. My
curiosity peaked, I watched which way the young man went, and something in
Mirror Marlene's smirk told me that if we felt like playing detective, we might
be able to track him down. However, the manager of the liquor store convinced
me to stay and talk to the police when they arrived.

He offered to fill my tequila order at no charge if I promised to hide the
bottle in my handbag and tell the police what I knew. The owner surreptitiously
gave all four of us good citizens our various orders on the house. Of course,
my description of the suspect was immediately dismissed as inaccurate. After
all, I was female, and like Mirror Marlene, I had bottle blonde hair. It didn't
help that I was partly under the influence, but the worst part of it was that I
was over forty years of age. The clerk and the three male customers identified
the man as a shotgun toting African American/Hispanic, or a Samoan/Hawaiian
carrying a .350 magnum pea shooter. He was occasionally over six foot-five,
just barely five foot-eight, but mostly average in height. He was thin and just
25 years of age, but looked over 30 and weighed nearly two hundred and eighty
pounds. The same man apparently wore Nike shoes over his Cochran jump boots and
black denim jeans which were a faded blue and/or khaki in color. Stuffing the
stolen cash into a combination bank sack and briefcase, he then skateboarded
alone off to his getaway minivan where half a dozen companions waited. Anyway
you get the point.

Eventually one of the officers told me he'd have his partner drive me home in
my own car. I smiled graciously and thanked him, and I suppose that should have
been that. But on the way back just minutes from my place, I noticed the tall
thin young black man in a gray sweatshirt carrying an ugly purple and green
bowling bag into Northside Bowling Lanes. I started to say something to the
officer, but he was in contact by hand held two-way radio with his partner in
the squad car and didn't want to be bothered. Afterwards, I thanked the police
for getting me home safely, and promised not to drive any more today. Naturally
as soon as they drove out of sight, I jumped in my car and headed straight for
the bowling alley.

Early afternoon traffic slowed to a crawl as I made a turn onto the main road.
Barely focusing on the snarl of traffic ahead, my eyes darted around the
boulevard watching whatever there was to see on the road besides stalled
traffic. I caught sight of something disconcerting: a young mousy blond
teenager treading a bit too deliberately with a huge bag of groceries and a
package of Huggies diapers balanced in one arm and a small toddler balanced on
her hip. Poured into the confines of preshrunk denim shorts and bursting
braless through a fading orange tank top, the girl was fatigued and quite
overwhelmed by her struggling child.

Quite obviously a handful, it was the toddler which attracted my attention. He
was soft toned brown in color with a full mop of brown black curly hair. The
child was much too dark complexioned for his mother, and yet, the baby's
features reflected the mother's startlingly. For some reason the image of those
two stuck in my head even after I turned the corner and drove out of sight. I
drove on until I had pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley. Before I
left the car, I asked Mirror Marlene why we were doing this again. But she just
smiled at me, shrugged, and winked. We must've had some sort of plan worked
out, so I followed her lead.

I was in luck. The bowling bag and its scar-faced owner were still there
waiting quietly by the snack bar. But now what do I do? Try to apprehend him
and turn him in? Yeah, that sounded just as stupid to me then, as it does now
that I repeat it. So I merely walked up to the counter, took a seat, and
ordered some coffee. The man behind the counter was joking with my suspect
about some woman fingering him on a paternity suit.

"Of course, that's something you probably won't have to worry about, player."

"I'm the faithful kind, Richard. A one woman man."

"Shit, you ain't even found that one woman yet, Rucker." The scarring along the
right side of his mouth was more severe than I'd realized. It looked as if he
bore some ugly scars from some sort of surgery to his cheek and upper lip.
Still, there was something admirable about the way he maintained his dignity.
So when he noticed me staring at him, I blurted out the first thing to come to
mind: "So, what are you going to do with the money?"

Shocked, the young man looked at me, and then he let his face go as placid as
it would allow. "Do I know you, lady?"
"I'm pretty sure you remember where we met," I answered. "The thing is if I
figured out that it was you, how long do you think it will take the police?" I
figured that would be sufficient enough bluff to influence him.

He stood up and strolled two bar stools closer to me. "What is this lady?" he
murmured. "Some kind of shakedown?"

"No, actually it's some kind of birthday," I replied. "Grab your bowling bag
and let's go for a drive."

"Wait a minute lady!" "Wait too long and all you'll get is a free ride in the
back of a police car." I hopped down from the counter stool. "C'mon. You've got
nothing to loose." I offered him my keys. "You can even drive if you want."
Shrugging, the young scar-faced man declined my keys, picked up his bag and
gestured towards the door.

"Are we headed out of the city?" he asked. I told him no. I knew that his
instincts for staying close were correct, and we'd be much better off hiding in
plain sight. "Would you mind telling me what this is all about?"

"Impetuous birthday surprises," I replied, as I went over to a pay phone just
outside the bowling alley. There was a national chain motor lodge a mere block
and a half from the police station. I checked us in there using my credit card
and the hotel's national 800 booking number to secure the room for a double
occupancy.

"I told you it was my birthday, didn't I?"

"You mentioned it."

"You know what I'd like the most for my birthday?" My young black thief sighed.
"No, what?"

"I'd like to get laid." Just like that I said it. Thoughts of anybody other
than my husband had occurred to me, of course. I had a little cadre of TV soap
stars or an occasional sports hero that I might have fantasized about. Once I'd
passed thirty the thoughts of an actual affair became more frequent, but the
expenditure of time and money and effort had always seemed to be too much of a
bother.

Still my new acquaintance, who told me his street name was Rucker, was hardly
the person I'd have chosen to cheat on my husband with. Under those disfiguring
scars, I could sense that he was barely my youngest daughter's age. Besides he
was tall, slim, moustached, and decidedly African American where I was
definitely none of those. But my answer didn't change at all:
"Yeah," I finally replied. "I'm serious." We used some of his stolen cash to
pay for our first night's room charges. Admittedly I was thrilled to be the
center of attention again, but to have an affair with the thief who'd robbed
me? Whoa, girl! Slow it down.

I went to the bathroom to talk it over with Mirror Marlene. Though Mirror
Marlene was acting intolerably smug in the motel bathroom, I was rather glad
that she'd accompanied me. Quickly undressing in anticipation of our birthday
celebration, I noticed that Mirror Marlene was still a good looking broad for
hitting her early forties. Her shoulders were still supple--always the best
part of a good figure--she had well shaped legs and thighs, and her full
breasts draped evenly, still hanging firmly in spite of the fact that there
wasn't as much flatness in her abdomen as there once had been. Both Marlene of
the mirror and I agreed that we should do quite well in the upcoming event.

The floor of our motel room was strewn with clothing tossed about in haphazard
piles. Waiting between the wall and the side of the bed, my new companion stood
totally naked. But while I should have been admiring over ten inches of erect
masculine arrogance, my eyes focused on the short barrel of the nine millimeter
handgun which he pointed straight at me.

"Don't move, lady." I stopped. "What's this all about?"

"Walk over to the curtains," he muttered. "Slowly." I followed his orders. "Go
to the center, and peak out through the curtains." Once again I obeyed. "Is
there anybody out there?" There were a couple of business men unloading the
trunk of a rental car down in the parking space a little below us. I told him
that.

"Stand perfectly still," he said, suddenly jerking on the valance cord, his
actions pulled the room curtains wide open leaving me exposed naked to the
outside. "Rest your hands on the window sill. Tell me if anyone sees you."
Gulping audibly, I watched to see if the two white men in the parking lot had
noticed me yet. "Now we can talk," my companion said. "Wha...what exactly did
you want to talk about?"

"I want you to tell me what's going on here."

"I would've thought that standing naked on one side of the bed with you
standing naked on the other would provide a good clue," I replied.

"Look lady...," He stared straight at me, keeping the muzzle of his handgun
pointed right toward my heart. "Marlene." "Marlene, I want to know what this
little game of yours is really about?"

I shrugged my bare shoulders. "It's really about getting laid."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"In that case, give the boys in the parking lot a big smile, and then knock on
the window." I rapped lightly on the glass. "Louder, Marlene." When I rapped
this time, the two men looked up to my second floor window to see me leaning in
the motel window totally nude. "Wave to them," my young, equally naked black
companion said as he grasped one side of the curtains with his free hand and
pulled it slowly toward the center. Then crossing over to the other side, so
that he too could be seen from the parking lot, Rucker pulled the other side of
the curtains shut as well. He gestured awkwardly with his pistol. "Now, climb
into the bed." Pulling back the blanket and sheets, I slipped my bare legs in
and slithered down into the confines of the sheets until my head and shoulders
rested comfortably on the pillow.

He came down very close to my face and let the cold gun barrel wander down my
neck and sternum. Then slowly, almost gingerly, he placed the weapon right on
the crevice between both my breasts. "Isn't that dangerous?" I asked. "We'll
see, won't we," he answered. "For now I suggest you lay very still."

As I nuzzled slowly up against his slim, dark body, I could sense a powerful
tension surfacing between us. Our explorations began as I brought my lips up to
his. We were both jumpy, although his unexpected gentleness, his near timidity
caught me off guard. In allowing Rucker to put his strong enticing arms around
me, I detected a frightening new potential from this young black man, and
suddenly I was extremely excited. I spoke no words to the young man. As it
turned out, we didn't need to say much of anything. Rucker caught me by
surprise as his hands explored the ticklishly excited nerves of my skin. His
fingers walked softly over my naked body examining me slowly as he watched my
flesh blush under his touch. Suddenly, as he fingered the inviting mound
between my legs, I felt a gushing wetness churn deep within me. I moaned
something about Jesus, and I shivered.

"Tell me something, Marlene," he muttered. "Have you ever had anyone like me
before?"

"Uh-uhh." I shook my head. "How about you? You ever fucked some old white lady
before?" Rucker laughed. "I don't think you're old."

"You didn't answer my question." Rucker's fingers slipped deep inside my loins
to explore the wetness that I'd been seeping.

"You might not be my first. But then again...," he let his voice trail off even
as his fingers continued to probe. "I am rather curious about you." I gushed
wet once again. I know Rucker must have noticed that. In a surprisingly
forceful move, Rucker clambered over me with his whole body. At first the
novelty of being trapped under his full weight left me fighting the mood, but
soon after Rucker pinned me under his straddling torso and legs, I stopped my
subconscious struggle and allowed my thighs and body to open up under his
ministrations.

Despite some initial resistance to his intrusion, I found myself moist and
ready to accept the blunt thickening length he proffered. Soon, with his dark,
thickly-matted pubes nestling close to my own lighter colored pubic hair, we
were established in an age old position of ritual anticipation.

"I want you," he whispered. "I want all your naked white flesh to submit to my
need and my pleasure. Can you do that Marlene?" When I murmured that I could,
Rucker eagerly pushed his black erection forward and inside as I instinctively
guided him deeply into my loins. "I'll want you to write down exactly what
happened today to you--to me--what happened between us both."

"Sure," I answered. "But why?"

"Someday you're going to have to tell them all what you've done: your husband,
your children, your parents, family, friends and neighbors. They'll all have to
be told that you're a traitor to the white race."

"What?"

"You have to realize you'll be a traitor to all of them," Rucker growled.

"Why do you say I'm a traitor?"

"You should have seen yourself standing at that window like a beacon of pink
flesh in front of those two men," he answered. "What do you think they said
when they saw me? What will the people in your world say when you tell them
that you let some nigger trespass inside 'whites only' territory?"

Drunk, naked, and laying on my back underneath a twenty-something year old
black thief, I shrugged. Was he right? Was I really a traitor to my own race?

"You should have seen yourself. You stood there shivering, but anyone could see
you weren't cold. You glistened with sweat, but not from the heat of the day.
From that moment I saw your body poised naked in the sunlight, I recognized
that you were destined to be mine." I realized suddenly that I'd made a drastic
change in the complexion of my love life.
"Tell me something. How many babies have you had, Marlene?"
"I've got two girls--college age girls."

"I see," he said while keeping his motion perfectly smooth within me. "Still,
I'll bet these big nipples of yours could nurse a lot more babies." "Not if
that gun goes off and blows a hole through one of them." Rucker laughed.

"It isn't the gun you have to fear. It's this other loaded barrel that I'm
liable to shoot off inside you that you should worry about."

"Is that so?" "Um-hmm--Danger! Live ammunition." "Should I be frightened?"

"Aren't you?"

"Let me think about it." My body was becoming more and more enraptured
surrounded by the sinewy grip of his mahogany arms, the smooth, muscular feel
of his chest contrasted by the tiny prickles of his chest hair, and the
surprisingly gentle probing as he bathed his fleshy thickness in my warmth,
repeatedly driving for the perfect slide of his penis within the happily wet
clasp of my body. "Frighten me some more." He ran his fingers along the scar.
"Aren't you curious about how this happened?" As his movements inside me became
more intense, I murmured a soft affirmative grunt, and he answered:

"I was attacked by a Doberman pincer when I was little." "Oh, Rucker, I'm so
sorry. Was it painful?"

"Yes, it was at the time," he said. "But the real pain came later--after
puberty. While the rest of the world began to romantically interact, I had my
scars to remind me and everyone else that I'd always be the ugly outsider."

Oh my God, of course. "You're not the least bit ugly to me Rucker," I
whispered. "Right now you're absolutely divine." Turning over the initiative to
him, letting him prod and thrust and pummel and withdraw, we began to enjoy an
enthusiastic fucking. As our motions continued, I could still sense the cold
hardness of the nine millimeter pistol pressing into my breasts. Suddenly
Rucker's excitement liquefied. Bursting forth from his testicles and racing
through that all important final passage up the full length of his cock and out
the aperture, the eyelet at the end of his long black erection, his energy
spurted outward. His essence splashed inside me!

"Oh, my God," I squealed with a giggle. "Rucker, you're drenching me." Still
shuddering with passion, Rucker took a big chance testing both my psyche and
our shared love, when he gasped. "As far as I'm concerned, you're mine to
drench, Marlene." Suddenly I could feel even more of his wet heat spurting
inside me.
"Rucker, don't let go," My voice quaked, but neither our hips nor our bodies
would break from our rhythm. He clamped his lips down hard against mine. His
tongue explored and plied at my lips until I opened up my mouth under him.

Later on, I murmured: "You're making the old birthday girl very...very happy."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said keeping up his stream of chatter as well as
his thrusting motion. "You've got a real zest for fucking, birthday girl. That
makes you younger than you'll ever know."

"Rucker, stop teasing me!" Unrestrained now, my response sounded insincere.
"This is no tease. woman. Your treacherous white body is all mine to fuck for
the time being." I felt his heat continue to pool deep where neither of us
could see, yet we both knew instinctively. I came with resounding tremors of
ecstasy. Red and sore from the friction against the surface of my labia, and
yet slippery wet with the gelatinous coating of his sperm and my own juices
flowing from deep within my loins, I enjoyed both the pulsating waves coiling
selfishly inside me, and the luxurious messiness which meant that I'd been
intimately marked by a healthy masculine mating partner.

We lay still in each other's arms afterwards. Even with several minutes of
rest, I could hardly catch my breath. For a while we continued to lay together
on the bed panting, resting. But as we embraced Rucker slowly became tumescent
again. "I want you to switch positions with me." Rucker impulsively reached
down between my breasts to grip the nine-millimeter pistol. "You get up on
top." After all that physical togetherness I would've thought he trusted me,
but he kept that gun aimed right at my chest while I carefully straddled his
hips and let my thighs and my dripping loins slide down on his shiny lubricated
erection totally engulfing him in a delightfully sloppy wetness once again.

He handed me the telephone from the nightstand not far from his pillow. "I want
you to make a phone call. You have to tell someone. I need to hear you tell
someone what you just did." Who would understand? I thought about it for a few
seconds. While I looked down at him from my new vantage point, I quickly
dialled the number of one of my oldest and dearest friends. "Gina, it's me.
I've got something to tell you. Thanks, my birthday is the reason I called you.
I gave myself a present." For months on end, my friend Gina had told me that I
should have a fling or something to get back at my husband for being such an
asshole.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. I did it. No, it's nobody you know."
Totally involved in his little game, Rucker tried to match his rhythms to my
voice. I tried to keep from letting on that he was fucking me while Gina and I
continued to speak, but I wasn't sure that I could succeed. My own responses
were becoming less and less controllable. "Yes, just a little while ago. In
fact, I'm going back to his bed as soon as I hang up with you. Yeah, really."

"Marlene," Rucker murmured. "Tell her." I waited for Gina to stop babbling.

"Gina, wait! There's something I've got to tell you." I paused. Slowly he
increased his lusty energy as well as the depths of his thrusting. "Gina, he's
in his early twenties, and he's all hormones."

"Marlene," Rucker ordered. "Tell her everything." "Yes, no kidding. But there's
something even more important, Gina. He's...he's black." Another pause. "It was
wonderful. Honest! Protection? Yes, of course, I did. You know me. Would I do
something reckless?" I looked over to my left to see Mirror Marlene balanced
atop an impressively large black figure. As Gina babbled on I watched her
abdomen getting torqued from below.

"C'mon Gina," I continued my phone conversation. "Now you're acting like this
was just some guy right off the street. Give me some credit." Rucker looked at
me during the pause. I put my hand over the phone for a second and whispered:
"She asked me, if I was going to see you again." I watched him silently laugh,
naked under me, the motel bed shaking and squeaking as he continued to press
his advantage up and inside me. "Y'know, Gina, I'm pretty sure I will." Rucker
tried to keep from laughing. The scarring around lips gave the impression
somehow that his big grin might tear his face apart. For a second it was a
frightening illusion, but in the mirror, the other Marlene was still flushed
with excitement and aching desire. I felt relieved. "I'll tell you more later,
Gina. I gotta go."

"Are you glad you told her?" he asked as he watched my breasts and torso lean
way over top of him to hang up the phone.

"Yes, I am."

"Good." Suddenly his body stiffened and he grimaced again in that odd facial
distortion which his scars gave him. Once again he whispered: "Good. Before the
day is over, you'll have to find someone else to tell." With that Rucker's
loins cut loose once again. Oh, Lord! Twice in ten minutes? I found myself
quivering ecstatically as the hot, streaming flow of my partner's thick warm
semen. spurted up and out from his pulsating penis. I really wanted to cum, but
it wouldn't happen for me this time. However, Mirror Marlene was blushing with
that glow of intense intimacy that usually accompanies an orgasm, and I could
see her near breast cupped by a long fingered black hand. I couldn't see his
other hand; so, Mirror Marlene appeared to be having a better time with her new
lover than I was.

Rucker stopped his motion. I climbed off of him and lay flat on my back against
the rumpled bedding, seeping from his second onslaught of liquid enjoyment. I
needed to get into the bathroom to clean up, but, for a while, we continued to
stay together on the bed panting, resting.

"The next time we make love, Marlene, I'm going to ask you a question. But
before you answer, I want you to promise me right now your answer will be yes."

I nodded. "All right," I answered. "You ask me, and I'll say yes." I started to
relax and drift off, but it wasn't five minutes before he'd scooted around to
place both of his knees between my thighs. Planting the pistol right on my
abdomen this time, Rucker picked me by my hips and thighs to drag my naked
loins right up against his erected cock. Once again his masculine presence made
itself known deep within me. I know my mouth must have fallen open. Again?
Where did he get all his energy? Suddenly, as his rhythmic motion resumed,
Rucker said:

"Marlene, I want you to tell me that you'll have my baby."

"What? You want me to conceive at gunpoint?"

"Oh, it's not loaded." He smiled and tossed the pistol onto the floor. "I took
the clip out before you ever left the bathroom."

"What!" I cried out in relief. "You crazy bastard!"

"You still want to fuck, don't you?" I realized that he already knew the answer
to that question, so I nodded. "Then tell me you will."

"I will what?"

"Hey! You promised me you'd say yes when I asked you that question!" So I had.

"You really mean it?"

"More than anything, Marlene." I felt him tremble, I suspected that he was very
close to coming inside me again.

"Tell me you will."

"You're serious about this?"

"Totally."

"All right, Rucker," I sighed between brand new moans of pleasure. "Yes, of
course, I'll take your baby."
"Thank you, Marlene." Suddenly bursting forth from his testicles and racing
through that all important final passage up the full length of his cock and out
the aperture, the eyelet at the end of his long black erection, Rucker's
excitement once again liquefied and spurted free. *Oh, Lord!* I thought.
*Please tell me three times isn't a charm?* Once again I found myself squirming
with genuine delight under the hot, streaming flow of my partner's thick warm
semen. I realized that my anxiety was further intensified by a subliminal
yearning to acquiesce to Rucker's primal request. God help me, now. Even though
his race was definitely wrong, I found myself recklessly craving his impulsive
offer. My breathing was totally belabored by now.

"I can feel you dripping. I feel it happening." I began to shudder beneath him.

"What you feel is us happening, baby." Still shuddering with passion, Rucker
took a big chance testing both my psyche and our shared love, when he said.

"It's won't be just cum, lover, it'll be a living part of me--hundreds of
thousands of sperm cells seeking out the healthy new life inside you." Suddenly
I could feel even more of his wet heat spurting inside me. "Sperm cells
frantically searching for that special ovum to swarm over and unite with,"
Rucker muttered.

"Rucker, don't," My voice quaked, but neither our hips nor our bodies would
break from our rhythm. He clamped his lips down against mine. His mouth tasted
of sugar and coffee and tequila. His lips pulled away from mine.

"Help me make just one more tiny little baby. lover."

"Rucker, I'm too old."

"Nonsense. You look like you're in your late twenties."

"I'm over forty."

"Your body doesn't feel forty to me," he kept up his stream of chatter as well
as his thrusting motion.

"What I've found is a healthy woman with a real zest for fucking, and that
means making babies."

"Rucker, please!" Unrestrained now, my breathy responses seemed insincere.

"You're making fun of me!"

"Think of it, Marlene. You'd be carrying an embryo that had twenty-three of
your chromosomes and twenty-three of mine." Rucker's entire body began
trembling and bucking in hard spasms over me. "And this child of ours would be
half white like you, but also half black like me." I felt his erected heat
continue to prod deep where neither of us could see, yet we both knew
instinctively. "And I'd watch you nurse our baby, his little brown lips wrapped
possessively around your beautiful nipples, taking sweet milky sustenance from
his mother's white breasts." Concentrating on the new sensations that inter
linked us, and without ever allowing our bodies to part, I carefully coaxed him
to climb up over of me again. Ploughing deeply into my moist, hot furrow after
weeks of abstinence, I'd clasped his masculine extension as tightly as I could
hold him between my legs. Uncontrollably pistoning me now, his own needs peaked
much more quickly than anyone could have suspected. Rucker must have been
holding back these frustrations for months--maybe years. Soon he inhaled a
loud, almost painful gulp of air.

At first his entire body stiffened like a body surfer riding a luxuriously
fleshy wave, then, in the ultimate heat of the moment, his movements stopped
totally. Frustratingly still, my able-bodied young thief gasped as his tension
transformed once again into a hot liquid which, with a jarring convulsion,
spurted eagerly out from his long, dark chocolate colored penis. Of course all
this wetness had only one place to go, but I dismissed any downside of that.
Rucker went limp this time. Exhausted, he spent yet another sticky wad of his
cum into my accommodating warmth. Panting and wheezing like mad, he seemed
finished for the moment. He was sweaty now and beaded by a thick sheen of
perspiration. I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and murmured,

"Congratulations, love. That sounded like quite an orgasm." Grunting out a very
raspy noise, Rucker queried breathlessly:

"Am I still alive?"

"Yes." I breathed a heavy sigh. "You'll live to do that again."

"Good." He took hold of my shoulders so that he could clamp a wet and awkward
French kiss on my lips. His intentions tasted wonderful, in spite of his eager
lack of technique. "I intend to do just that." Strangely enough I found my eyes
tearing up. Holding myself tightly against him, grappling him with both my arms
and legs, and resting the soft globes of my breasts against his perspiring
mahogany chest, I wanted to weep. After the lacklustre bouts I'd endured with
Jeremy lately, the experience of keeping Rucker mobile within my loins for
these last fifty-plus minutes was pure delight.

Later, after I discovered that I desperately needed to go to the bathroom,
Mirror Marlene was in there to greet me. Naked and sweating, Marlene had been
getting laid in "mirror-land" as well, because she too was chafed red and
rubbed raw by intimate contact. Mirror Marlene cocked a knowing eyebrow at me
as if to say, "So are you finally satisfied?" I grinned coquettishly back at
her. "Totally!"

Comments? Questions? The location of a good pawn shop? Write me.
ulyssakincaid@yahoo.com

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