CHAPTER ONE

 

He was both rough and gently. He was both friendly and hostile, but above everything else, he was a fucking machine! He aroused me and took me to heights I had never been before or even imagined. My face was buried in a pillow and he was doing me from behind. The first time he was on top in the conventional missionary position. The second time I was on him, in what he called cowgirl style. Riding the pony. Being fucked like a bitch in heat was the third position in the hour or so we had been together. His name was Pope and he was black. How did I, Dawn Elrod, a thirty-four year old white woman and mother get into this situation? It will take some explaining.

I wasn't unhappy with my life. I had a lot to be thankful for. A great husband and a sixteen year old son. Ron, my husband, makes a great living doing what he likes to do. Until school started in the fall, I was the gofer. I picked up and delivered our son to ballgames, music lesions, and the mall. I led a full life and then it suddenly all changed. Ron Junior, our son, wanted to go to military school. He learned about his grandfather and how he was a hero in the Army. Ronnie couldn't think about anything else after that.

My husband was all for it. Ron thought Ronnie would have a better education and a better structured life. I augured against it, but had to concede to their wishes. I was just being selfish and I admit it. The first few months weren't bad. Ronnie came home for Thanksgiving and again at Christmas, but by February I was a wreck. I had nothing to do and I was going crazy. Not only was I going crazy, but I was driving Ron crazy, too. Something had to give.

"God Dammit, Dawn, get a job or something!" Ron yelled at me one night. "Get off your fat ass and do something!" I know he was just tired of hearing me whine, but the 'fat ass' comment hurt. In the first place my ass wasn't fat. I'll admit to a certain flabbiness, but that's all. My tummy wasn't as flat as it had been, but my breasts are large and don't sag any more than a thirty six C should sag. In fact I look pretty damned good for a woman my age, but in spite of that I joined a woman's gym. The first few weeks were hard and I was sore all over. It got easier after that. After a couple of months I tapered off. I wasn't interested in being a bodybuilder, I just wanted to get in good shape. Having accomplished the 'getting into shape' part, I was right back facing the fact that I had nothing to do.

It was sheer luck, maybe good; maybe bad, that I happened to run into Lucy. I tried to jog or at least power walk every morning. It was on my jogging trip that I ran into Lucy.

"Dawn? Is that you?" I heard her call. I had just passed her. I slowed, stopped, and looked back, jogging in place. For a moment I didn't recognize her. Then I did.

"Lucy Miller!" I said jogging in place waiting for her to catch up. She was pushing a stroller with a small child in it.

"Not Lucy Miller anymore," she said, as we hugged. "Lucy Pope these days. I'm a married woman again." We found a bench to sit on while we caught up, but that didn't last very long because it was still too chilly for the baby so we found a coffee shop. I hadn't seen Lucy since the summer after high school.

"So what are you up to these days?" I asked. "Besides having babies."

"Well this little girl was an accident," Lucy said leaning down and pulling the blanket away from its face. I saw immediately that the child was biracial. "But she's loved never the less, aren't you, Tabitha," she asked the question like grown-ups do when talking to little babies. I don't know why we do that. I asked how old the baby was. "Tabby is three months old," Lucy said. "I'll be going back to work in a couple months."

"Where are you working?" I asked. I had not seem Lucy in sixteen years, but she hadn't changed all that much. Sure she was more mature, but her personality was still the sparkling kind. Lucy had been the class wild child. Even wilder than the rest of us.

"I'm a hooker," Lucy said, answering my question in her usual candid style. "I'm trying to get back in shape so I can get back on my back." She laughed at her quip. I was shocked speechless. Every instinct was telling me to get away from Lucy yet I did nothing except stare at her.

"You remember Johnny Lively, don't you?" Lucy asked. I remembered him as Lucy's boyfriend when we graduated from school. Lucy had the reputation of being easy so she always had at least one boyfriend. "Me and Johnny worked our asses off all summer. We saved nearly every dime. Johnny thought he was a world class pool player and we were going out to make a pile of money. For some reason Johnny thought the rednecks down in North Carolina and Tennessee would be easy marks. Boy, was he wrong," Lucy laughed. "We were nearly broke by the time we got to Knoxville."

"We were in some pool hall in K-town and Johnny was setting this black dude up. Or so he thought. The dude was really setting him up. Four games later we were broke. Flat busted and we didn't even have gas money to get out of town. Johnny made a deal with the black guy and the next thing I know, I'm on my back and this guy is pounding a big black dick in me. Johnny sold my services to a couple more men and we got our stake. In Nashville, Johnny lost all the money I had made fucking and we were broke again. Back on my back I went. Even as dumb as Johnny was, he quickly realized he could make more money selling my ass then he ever could shooting pool."

"We stayed in Nashville a couple of months and moved on the Memphis. Then on to St. Louis. Johnny sold me to a black pimp in East Saint Louis and he took off for parts unknown."

"He just left you there? On your own?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

"Yeah, the rotten asshole," Lucy said laughing. "I ran into him again in LA a few years later. Poor bastard was a strung-out junky. I was making porno films then. I did that full time for a couple of years. Easy money making fuck flicks. Time rolled on and I got older. The fuck flick trade wants younger girls, so I went back to whorein' for a living. Got married a couple of times along the way. I was working in Denver when I met my current hubby. How are things with you, Dawn?"

"Nothing compared to you," I managed to stammer. "Married Ronald Elrod right out of school, had a baby and..." I ran out of things to say. That was it, the sum total of my life.

"Good for you," Lucy said. "I've had a hell of a ride and it ain't over yet. My old man has a couple girls working the black trade and I'll be back in the saddle again in a little while."

"Black trade?"

"Yeah, white women for black men. Fucking good business, if you'll pardon the pun." She glanced at her watch. "Oh shit, I have to go. It's also about time to feed Tabby. I'm making enough milk for three kids. I'll start leaking in a little while. Let's get together for lunch sometime soon. I'll be here in town for a while." She handed me a card after she wrote her cell phone number on it. "Call me anytime, Dawn. It was great seeing you again after all this time. You look better than you did back when." I watched her push the stroller out of the shop. I didn't move for a long time, just thinking what she had said.

***

For the next three days my mind kept going back to the conversation with Lucy. She had left high school and had one adventure after another. She traveled all over the country plying her trade. I found that I was envious of her. Not what she had done, necessarily, but the fact she had done things. I hadn't done anything. If someone wrote the story of my life it would be the smallest book on record and I hated it.

Late at night, laying awake, I would wonder what it would be like to experience other men. I had been a virgin when Ron and I got married and had only known him as a sex partner. I had never even used a marital aid, as they were advertised. Just Ron and occasionally my finger.

I was half way through my morning run when I made up my mind to call her. I cut the run short and went home. I found the card with her number and called Lucy.

"I made a mental bet with myself that you wouldn't call," she said when I identified myself. "I'm glad I lost the bet."

"Why did you think I wouldn't call?"

"For one thing, you looked shocked. I thought you were going to shit when I told you I was a prostitute. I haven't had a lot of luck renewing old acquaintances."

"To tell the truth, I guess I was a little shocked, Luce."

"I guess I should just ease into that, huh?" She giggled. I agreed that easing in might be better. We made arrangements to meet for lunch that day.

***

"Where's your baby?" I asked when Lucy arrived at the restaurant.

"Poppa Pope is taking care of Tabby," she answered. "I can't be gone very long because Pope gets tired of babysitting pretty quick. He's only good for a couple of hours at a time." We ordered lunch.

"Your husband, Pope, is he black?" I asked while we waited.

"Yeah, black as the ace of spades," she answered. "Shocked?"

"No, I'm a liberal person," I answered. "People are people regardless of skin color." That, strangely enough, was the truth. I never harbored any racial prejudice.

"You always were a sweetie," Lucy said. "I kinda got turned on to black men early on. The cathouse in East Saint Louis was all black customers. I didn't even see a while dick for nearly a year."

"Is it true what they say about black men? Their...things, I mean." God, I don't know where that question came from.

"No, not if you mean are all black cocks big. Some are, some aren't, just like the white boys. Pope sports a seven inch cock that's as thick as a beer can. He knows what to do with it, too. The biggest cock I ever had was on a while guy. That was when I was doing porno flicks. Ten inches long and this big around," she laughed, making a large circle with both hands. "I fell in love with him, but he was queer. He only fucked women to make money. Pity, huh?" I agreed that it did seem like a pity.

Lucy told me more stories of her adventures as a prostitute. I should have been mortified. I should have never listened to any of them, but for some reason I found her risqué stories fascinating.

We met again on Monday and again on Thursday. On Monday she came alone, but on Thursday she brought the baby and the man she referred to as Pope. Pope, his last name, was a huge man and she had been right. Pope was not the chocolate brown that we've come to expect to be called black. Pope was black, black.

Besides being black and big, he was an ominous looking man. He didn't smile the whole time he was with us. In fact, there was almost no change in his brooding expression. His head was shaven and his face a crisscross of scars. Pope was without a doubt the scariest man I had ever met. Luckily he didn't stay very long. He ate his lunch without saying a single word. He kissed Lucy and the baby and left after giving me a long searching look.

"He ain't much to look at," Lucy said watching me watch him stroll out. "But the son of a bitch can fuck for hours. He good to Tabby, too. I think he likes you, Dawn."

"Me? What on earth gave you that idea? He hardly spoke to me...or you for that matter."

"Pope ain't much on words," she said smiling. "You have to read his body language. You ever fuck a black man?" The question threw me for a moment. I managed to shake my head. "Shame, Dawn. The best dick is a black dick. If you ever want to strap Pope on, just give me the word."

That afternoon I fingered myself to a crashing orgasm. I'll admit I saw Popes face and tried to imagine a penis like Lucy described, as I did. What was I becoming? That night I tried to get Ron excited enough to have sex, but as usual he was too tired. I finally fell into a troubled sleep. I had a terrific erotic dream sometime just after Ron left for work and I woke up horny and stayed horny until I took matters into my own hand.