Tears rolled down her cheeks. “That’s all Travis, that’s all you want me for?” she whispered.
“Yeah, Mrs. O’Donnel, that’s all.”
She couldn’t speak. When he didn’t hang up, she said, “Yes, Travis, it’s good enough.” She heard the click as he hung up the phone.
An hour later when she came out of the shower, she heard Brian and the children downstairs. The television was on. Brian was making dinner in the kitchen. She could smell hamburgers frying and hear the children laughing. For a moment everything seemed normal. For a moment it seemed as if she could pull on a pair of sweat socks and sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt and run downstairs and roll on the floor with her happy children. Then, she’d help Brian in the kitchen. They’d sit down at the table and the kids would delight them with stories about what happened in school. She stood clutching the bathroom sink, her head bowed. In the bedroom she had laid the black dress out on the bed. The black stilettos were next to it. On the make up table was the necklace she’d retrieved from the wastebasket. It was too late to go back. She had a chance to get out but she didn’t. She was no longer a suburban wife and mother. She was a “white woman for blacks.”
Holding back the tears, she threw on her robe and went into the bedroom. She sat at the small table carefully applying her makeup. Sara came to the door and looked startled, “What are you doing, Mommy? Dinner’s almost ready.”
Maureen put down the eyeliner but avoided looking at her daughter. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’ve been invited out for dinner.”
“With Aunt Eileen?”
“Well, maybe Aunt Eileen will be there. I hope so.” Maureen had almost convinced herself that Dexter Wells would be taking both she and Eileen dancing. Afterward he’d probably want a threesome, just him and the two sisters. He may have rented a suite at the hotel or he’d take them back to his place.
Sara spotted the necklace. “Oh, how pretty!” She exclaimed bending down to read the black letters, “WWFB,” she read. Hearing her daughter say the letters, Maureen squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. “What do the letters mean, Mommy?” Sara wanted to know.
“Nothing, honey, they’re just letters.”
Afraid she would start to cry, Maureen gently guided Sara toward the door. “You better go to dinner. Your Daddy and Billy have probably started.”
Sara bounded down the stairs.
Maureen sat at the table and wept. When she had cried herself out, she cleansed her face and reapplied the eyeliner and mascara. She was careful to exaggerate the fullness of her lips that were still swollen from last night. She outlined them with a slightly darker lip pencil. Then she coated them with gloss. Travis wanted her lips to be full and bright red and wet. Looking in the mirror she was satisfied. Her black hair framed the flawless white skin of her face. The dark eye shadow and the bright red of her moist lips contrasted sharply with the paleness of her skin, as did the black letters at her throat. She picked up the ankle bracelet and studied the letters for a moment before bending to fasten it to her right ankle. Travis’s words came back to her, “The black brothers and sisters will know what you are.” Yes, she thought, if they look at my cleavage they will see the letters. If they look at my legs, they will see the letters. They will know that I’m a white woman for blacks. She said the words aloud, “I’m a white woman for blacks.” Immediately, although she fought against it, she felt a wave of heat and knew her pussy was wet. She spread her pussy lips and looked at her clit in the magnifying mirror. It was already a glistening bright red berry.
The black dress fit tight, hugging her narrow waist and the roundness of her ass. The low neckline exposed the swell of her breasts. It was obvious she wore neither a bra nor panties. The letters on the necklace shone brightly when the light hit them. She slipped her tiny feet into the open stilettos. The red painted nails of her perfectly formed toes glinted up at her. The ankle bracelet felt strange. Its letters, too, glistened in the light. She was surprised how quickly she’d recovered from a night of non-stop sex. A “fuckin fine gangbang” Travis had called it.
She tried not to think of the children and knew that was wrong. Perhaps thinking about what she was doing to them would make her so ashamed and guilty and fearful, she would find a way out of…of what? Offering herself unconditionally to Travis. She stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this good, both beautiful and provocative, both innocent and hot. She reminded herself that she would be fucked again tonight. She let herself recall how she felt last night in the hotel room, blindfolded and knowing seven black men were looking at her and wanting her. They knew she’d come there to give herself to them. And she had, over and over. She forced the children out of her mind and thought only of what might happen tonight. She was sure Dexter Wells would be her partner.
At five minutes to eight, she went downstairs still feeling the terrible guilt but also with the excited anticipation she’d felt the first time she went to Travis.
Brian glanced at Maureen and stepped back, staring. It was as if he’d never seen her before. “My God…you…you... look beautiful! You are…you’re…” he stammered.
The doorbell rang, interrupting the awkward moment. She hurried to the front door fully expecting to see Dexter Wells. Her heart sank and she felt her knees almost buckle. Filling the doorway was Sam. In his eyes she could see the same hatred and anger she saw the first time they’d met. Because women had always found him to be both ugly and mean they’d despised him, sometimes ridiculing him, always avoiding him. He hated all women, but especially white women who invariably looked away when they saw him. Maureen knew that he hated her more than ever. She represented all the women who had ever humiliated him. But now she saw in him a self-satisfied confidence that terrified her. He knew she was his for the night.
He looked more repulsive than she remembered. His nose was flat and wide, his lips were thick and pendulous and flecked with saliva. His front teeth were broken and stained, his eyes narrow bright slits, his skin pockmarked and blacker than Travis’s. His head was bald and sloped forward. He was bigger, too, than she recalled, stocky with long arms and big calloused hands. He wore a black silk shirt open at the neck revealing thick, black curly hairs. His trousers were also black. On his feet were pointed black patent leather shoes. A heavy gold chain circled his neck. He looked down at her necklace and nodded, “Do that mean what it says?” he asked.
Maureen had trouble finding her voice. She backed away from him. He grabbed her wrist, “Well, do it?” He spoke in a whisky rasp.
“Yes,” she said.
“What color am I?”
“Black,” she said, her head bowed.
“Then, you’re mine, Mrs. O’Donnel. You’re mine. Ain’t that right?
Not looking up, she said, “Yes, it means I’m yours.”
He let her go. She moved aside and he strode by, “Let’s meet the fuckin family,” he said.
She directed him to the living room. The television had been turned off. Brian was sitting in the middle of the couch. Thankfully, the kids were in the kitchen. Sam stood before him, Maureen slightly behind him. Maureen’s voice trembled, “Brian, this is my friend Sam.” Brian blinked, not knowing what to do. Maureen looking distractedly toward the kitchen where the kids were laughing. She prayed they wouldn’t suddenly run in.
Sam pulled Maureen forward and placed his hand on her ass. She flinched and her face reddened. Sam moved his arm up to circle her waist and he pulled her close to him. “I’m more than a fuckin friend, Mrs. O’Donnel. Tell him.”
“I’m sorry to hurt you…but I do like being with Sam. I’m going to spend the night with him…here.”
Brian suddenly stood up looking pale and fearful. “I don’t like this, Maureen. I mean the kids…they’re in the next room.” She could see him tremble and the terrible look in his eyes.
Sam pushed him, and he fell back on the couch into a sitting position. “Listen you fuckin wimp. I want you when we come back. You can take those brats some place else, or leave ‘em here,” he snickered darkly. “Just be sure
you’re
here.” He took from his pocket a narrow metal object and, holding it up, flicked it with a quick wrist movement. Out of it came a thin razor blade six inches long. It glinted in the light. Brian’s eyes widened. He sunk back in the couch. Sam stood over him waving the razor. “If you ain’t here, I’m gonna come after you and cut your little white prick off and shove it up your fuckin ass! You got that?”
Brian shook his head. “Yes, yes, I’ll be here.”
Maureen felt sorry for him but at the same time realized what a weak, pathetic man he was. Sam allowed himself to smile. After putting away the razor, he moved his hand slowly over Maureen’s ass. “She got nothin on under her dress, no panties, no bra. That’s the way your wife comes to us when we want her, naked under her dress. All we got to do is phone her.” He nodded at Maureen, “Tell him,” he said.
“When they phone I go to them naked under my dress.”
Sam pulled her closer, “She makes herself look hot for us just like she is now. She don’t ever wear stockings or nothin. She comes to us naked under her dress cause that’s how we want her.” He reached down and slid his calloused hand up the back of Maureen’s leg. He moved it slowly over the cheeks of her bare ass. She drew in her breath sharply and closed her eyes. Sam continued, “I’m gonna feel your wife up on the dance floor just like I’m doin now. Other guys, all brothers, gonna feel her up too. She gonna let them cause she likes getting felt up by the black brothers. He grabbed Maureen’s ass cheek hard. Ain’t that right, baby?”
“Yes,” she said, looking at the floor instead of at her husband. “I like when they touch me.” Sam squeezed harder. “I…I….like what he’s doing to me now,” she said.
Sam jabbed a finger at Brian. “You sleep down here tonight. When we come home, maybe we’ll be wantin you to make us some drinks. Then I’m gonna take your wife upstairs and fuck her in your bed. I’m stayin all night. She gonna do me all kinds of ways. She gonna sleep naked right tight against me.” He moved his hand from under her dress up to fondle her breasts. “In the mornin she’s gonna make me a big breakfast. She’ll be naked, except maybe wearin high heeled fuck-me shoes and lookin good for me. After I eat, she gonna get on her knees and suck my dick for a long, long time. Ain’t that right, Mrs. O’Donnel?” He glared at her.
“Yes.” She hadn’t looked up. “Yes, Sam, I’ll stay with you all night and in the morning I’ll make you breakfast. I’ll do what you want….I…I’ll try to please you.”
Sam stroked the back of her leg, “Yeah, tomorrow while your husband is at work and your kids is at school where you gonna be?”
Maureen looked down at the floor, “I’ll be in the kitchen.” Sam grabbed her leg hard. “On my knees,” she said.
“And what you be doin on your knees?”
“Kissing your…your cock and…and…sucking it.”
“For a long time?”
“Yes for a long time.”
Sam turned back to Brian, “Get yourself and them brats out of here by ten o’clock tomorrow morning and don’t make a lot of fuckin noise. We gonna be tired and wantin to sleep late.”
Brian nodded. “Don’t worry we’ll be gone before nine,” he said.
Sam turned Maureen to face him and, holding her ass with both hands, pulled her against him. “You got a fine white ass,” he said looking down at her. “Tell your husband who you given it to tonight. Tell him who’s gonna fuck that fine white ass.”
She looked up into his leering face. “You. I’m giving it…giving my ass to you.”
Glancing at Brian, Sam said, “Your wife’s got long nipples that pop right up when she’s hot.” He looked back at Maureen. “Tell your husband how come I know that.”
She continued to look up at him to avoid looking at Brian. “He knows because he’s sucked them…sucked my nipples,” she said.
Sam chuckled. Nodding at Brian, he said, “Your wife’s lips is warm and sweet. They’s good for more than kissin. Tell your husband how old Sammy got that information.”
In almost a whisper Maureen said, “I…I…sucked him.”
“And you swallowed my cum, all of it, right?”
He had pulled her tightly against his hardening cock. She looked up, “Yes, I took your cum. I took all of it.”
“Now, suppose you let your husband know what them letters on the necklace mean. And let him see how hot old Sammy is makin you.”
She hesitated and then, reluctantly, she reached up putting her arms around his neck. She pushed her crotch against him. “The letters stand for ‘White Woman For Blacks’.”
Sam stared down at her, his eyes bright and mean, “That’s what you is, right?”
“Yes, that’s what I am.”
Outside, a car horn sounded. “That be Robert,” Sam said as he started toward the door. Without looking at her husband, Maureen followed.
When they were settled in the back seat, Robert glanced in the rear view mirror. “Seems like Mrs. O’Donnel is forgettin how to sit when she’s with the brothers.”
Quickly, Maureen pulled her tight dress up over her thighs so she could spread her legs. “I’m sorry Robert. I forgot,” she said.
Sam put his hand on her thigh. “See that you don’t forget no more, you hear?”
“I won’t. I won’t forget again. I’m sorry. I should know by now how you want me.”
“And how’s that?” Robert asked.
“When I’m with you, with any black man, I should spread my legs and show him my cunt.”
“Why’s that?”
She thought for a moment, “To let him know it’s his. To let him know he can fuck me.”
Robert started the car. “Is our little white bitch wet, Sammy?” He asked.
Sam’s hand moved up along her leg until his finger traced the furrow of her slit. She felt her face burning. Sam rubbed her clitoris. “Yeah, Robert, she’s good and wet. It’s like Travis said, ‘this white bitch is always hot for the black man’.” He touched her lower lip with the tip of his finger wet with her secretions. Obediently, she parted her lips. He slid his finger between them. She sucked it. In her mind’s eye saw herself sitting in the back seat of Robert’s cab with the repulsive Sam, her dress pulled back, her bare legs spread so that both men could see her moist cunt, the two men grinning at each other as she sucked her own juices from Sam’s finger.