The first time I saw Robin Jones, I felt a sudden, almost
overwhelming attraction to her. It shocked me. I'd had fantasies about girls
before, but they were just flights of fancy, and nothing had ever come of them.
I was sure I was completely heterosexual.
Yet when I saw Robin I felt my pussy starting to steam
up, and my mind instantly filled with images of us together in bed. Maybe I was
turned on by the novelty. Maybe it was because the thought was so wild and
wicked.
You see, not only was Robin a girl, but she was black.
Sweet young Nebraska girls aren't supposed to think about having sex with other
girls at all, let alone black girls.
There was just something about Robin, though.
She was tall, where I'm short, was more slender, her body
whip thin, lean and athletic. She had a pretty face, with thick, loose black
curls. Her skin was more a coffee colour than deep, dark black, more brownish, say. She had small breasts, and
a boyish ass, and long, long legs.
Maybe it was that she was so completely opposite to me. I
have very light coloured skin, and my brown hair is a glistening chestnut
streaked with red, falling in loose, silky waves around my shoulders. I have a
narrow waist, but that was about the only way we were similar, for my breasts
were thick and round, and my hips flared wide. My ass was tight and firm, but
quite round and womanly.
I am just over five feet tall, where she was
closer to six, and where her face was narrow, mine was round and sweet. My
eyes were large and blue, where hers were narrow and brown. I had a small, snub
nose, while hers was longer, aristocratic and narrow.
My senior year at high school she was a transfer student,
and I guess when she stood up in front of the class talking to Mrs. Hensley,
our teacher, I assumed she was coming from some bleak ghetto or other.
It seemed like fate when Mrs. Hensley called my name and
asked me to show her around, and make her familiar with the school. My heart
leapt and my pussy shimmered.
Right from the start, though, I made a poor impression on
Robin. I guess I was so excited that I was a little tongue tied, and clumsy,
and said stupid things. She rolled her eyes a lot, but didn't come right out
and say she thought I was an imbecile.
I was just starting to get my mouth under control when I
let slip something about how glad she must feel to come to a nice place like
this.
"You think I'm comin' from some kind of ghetto just
because I'm black?" she demanded.
"No, I mean, I just, I..."
"My father was the Ambassador to France, okay? Now
he's just been made the head of the University. I ain't no ghetto child."
"I'm sorry," I gulped, red faced.
"I oughto paste you one," she scowled.
"You think all black people live in slums?"
"No! I mean, I uh, I didn't... mean
anything..."
"Shit. Big titted cow. I bet all your brains are in
there," she sneered, sticking her finger into my right breast.
I jerked back, a little fearful, but suddenly excited
too. Just the touch of her against my breast was making them
swell, my nipples harden.
"I'm sorry," I said again. "Look, uhm, do
you, uh, wanna come over to my house after school?"
"Why the fuck would I want to do that?"
"Uh, I don't know," I gulped, face turning red
in embarrassment.
"You think I'm some poor darkie that needs a friend?
Gimmie a break cow girl."
"I was just..."
"I bet we're richer than you. What does your old man
do anyway, clean sidewalks?"
"He's a dentist," I said in annoyance.
"A dentist. Big deal," she sniffed.
"What's that?"
"The library," I said.
"Libraries bore me, especially in white bread places
like this where they weed out anything controversial. I bet you could read
every fuckin' book in there and not find one swear word or sex scene."
I shrugged helplessly.
"Ever read a porno book, cow girl?"
"Huh? No!"
"You oughto. It's more fun than the shit they got in
there I bet."
"I wouldn't be allowed to read stuff like that, even
if I wanted to."
"Yeah, white folks always think their daughters got to
be virgins forever. You a virgin, cow girl?"
"Stop calling me, cow girl," I demanded.
"My name is Keri."
"Yeah? I bet if you strip naked and get down on all
fours some farmer would try an' milk you."
"At least I look like a woman," I scowled.
"Woman? You? What a laugh! You wouldn't know the
first thing about how to act like a woman, cow girl."
I scowled but didn't say anything. Robin was not nearly
as nice as I had hoped she'd be. I was almost sorry when the next day Mrs.
Hensley decided we should do a project together. Robin didn't seem very happy
about it either.
And she kept calling me cow girl.
When my breasts had first developed
I'd been very self-conscious about them. I was a thirty-four before my
thirteenth birthday. Now I was a thirty-eight C, which, when you’re five feet
all, look even more impressive than they would on someone bigger. I'd sort of learned to accept them, though I was considering
having some kind of reduction job done when I was older.
I was proud of my breasts just then, for as big as they
were they were really firm, and didn't sag hardly at
all.
Anyway, Robin continued to look down on me, both
literally and figuratively, and often talked to me sarcastically, or like I was
a stupid child or something. For some reason, though, I continued to have
fantasies about sex with her. I masturbated every night thinking about me and
her kissing each other, groping each other, and rubbing our naked bodies
together.