An American Threesome, 2005

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I remember it like it was last year, though it occurred more than eight years prior to today. Amid my disturbing discovery of the interracial swinging lifestyle – when I was only 20 – I browsed through many online communities which supported this lifestyle, as well as “normal” social networks where engagers hooked up. White women who were either curious or hooked on the black male sexual potency stereotype was fairly new to me and I knew it was not going anywhere. When you are only 20, unless you’re splitting a dorm in college, you are either sharing an apartment with a roommate or you’re living with your parents. I lived with my mother and stepfather as, for one, I was not in college at this particular time. Two, I knew early on it would save money.

Right before my 21st birthday, I met Betty; a curvy BBW-bodied white lady who was 17 years my senior, who lived about a half-hour away from me. Conversing online and via phone led to us meeting eachother in person at a bar in her city. She was there with friends and I came alone to meet her after leaving this crappy video marketing job I held down for nearly 2 years and I must say this with every sense of firmness I can fathom: Her breath reeked of hot cinnamon liquer and the smell of it made me want to fuck her senseless! I felt like a dog in heat, sniffing my way into potent, uncontrollable horniness. As the bar was closing, she pulled me to the side away from her friends, nearby the emergency exit where we swapped tongues and lips, begging me not to tell anybody about what could happen. Unfortunately, nothing happened that night due to a guy friend being meddlesome and remembering my having to work later that morning.

Three weeks later, Betty and I hooked up at a hotel she stayed the night at, in her city. She shared a place with her landlord and did not wish to have her bedfellows in and out, for the sake of discretion.

Betty had drunk an entire case of Bud Light that night and begged for my company. Her and I laid in bed, watching a boxing match (do not ask who fought, because I honestly forgot. Plus, they weren’t household names). Shortly, I stripped her pantyhose down, lifted her skirt up, kissed her barely-red lips and I ran straight inside of her, riding her in missionary. In between sessions, she given me head and she wanted me to slap her in the face. Now, I just turned 21. I’m not used to shit like that. I sense she enjoyed her sex to be rougher than mine (I wanted to fuck her in the ass, but she didn’t like that). I labeled her as a masochist. Something like that. Back then, I did not think that was cool. But now, I will do more than slap faces! After finishing, she sat on my lap and told me about her activeness in the interracial swinging lifestyle and the fact that, by law, she was still married. Her husband moved to a different city and did not want to divorce her due to him not wanting to pay alimony, causing her to be a workaholic for nearly 16 hours a day. As insatiable as she was, she didn’t get enough. She calls another black guy to come service her; a burly, stocky policeman who resembled Forrest Whittaker. I took to the floor to sleep. Her and the cop conversed about their dislike for Middle Easterns and other things before he lays on top of her, ramming her pussy harder than I could. And when she asked him to slap her, I mean she slapped her face so hard to where it had awakened me! He literally put this woman to sleep! I crawled back in the bed with her upon his leaving.

There’s a bit more to this story that I choose not to get into at the moment. Betty and I are still in touch to this day. She, however, moved to another state, remarried, settled down and explained to me that the highlight of her weeks come from grocery shopping with her husband.

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