Love Knows No Color Pt. 04

Note: This series is intended to be read in Chronological order from Part 1. If you pick up this series in subsequent parts you will find references to events depicted in previous parts. Please do yourself a favor and start with Part 1.

In this and some other parts, you will find some racially insensitive language from some of the characters. This language in no way represents the mindset of the author, and is used merely to represent some of the attitudes and situation an interracial couple can and probably will deal with at some point.

The series is intended to be as much of a romance as erotic literature. The characters are falling head over heels, madly in love with each other. I hope I was able to convey the feelings of love as well as the lust they feel for each other.

There should be at least two more parts to this tale.

Enjoy...

The week after Memorial Day Shavonda went on her period. During this time, she wanted to be cuddled. I would have done anything she asked, but she insisted we keep things above the waistline. So, we cuddled. I held her close as she fell asleep. Eventually, on the fourth day she said, "Damn it Jason, I can't stand this anymore. I can't take another day in your arms without doing SOMEthing. I can't taker 3 more days of this!"

"3 days?" I asked. "I thought periods only lasted 5?"

"Your kids, silly. You have them this weekend. That adds two days"

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid.

She lay on my bed, topless, her luscious chocolate titties tempting me. I was wearing my pajama bottoms so as not to tempt her too much. "Get rid of them," she ordered. I complied, stripping them off and throwing them across the room.

"Tonight we're going to try something different." She grabbed a bottle of baby oil off my dresser and squirted some in between her tits. "Come here big boy," she purred. "Lay back and enjoy this."

I lay back on the bed, propping my head with pillows against the headboard. Shavonda slid herself between my legs, one breast on either side of my erect penis. They glistened with baby oil. She placed my dick between them, and pushed them together around it with her hands. Her breasts were not quite large enough to completely engulf my shaft. That's ok, they are plenty large enough for me. I love playing with them.

The oil had made her cleavage slick, and the sensation of sliding between them was very erotic. As the head poked out the top of her tits, she swirled her tongue around the head. "Bleah," she said. "Baby oil tastes nasty. We need some of that flavored lube. Preferably the kind that heats up when you breathe on it." I made a mental note to get some next time we went shopping.

I wouldn't have blamed her if she stopped licking me right then, but she continued to lick whenever it came near her mouth. It felt so good, sliding between her breasts, with the occasional lick of my head. It looked great too. White hot dog sliding through chocolate titties, being licked by pink tongue. I reached down to play in her curls

We had been sex deprived for 4 days now, and it showed. In no time at all I was ready to pop. "Von, baby," I whined. "You better stop or I'm gonna break one of your ground rules." She didn't want me to come on her face and hair but that was exactly what I was going to do if she didn't stop.

"You're right." Shavonda reluctantly stopped and released my rod from her cleavage. "Well I'll suck it then of you promise to play with my titties. It felt so good sliding in there. Thanks for not shooting all over my face."

I sat up so I could play with her nipples while she bobbed her head. That was one of the many things I loved about her. The lady loved her some dick. She loved to suck it almost as much as fucking it. And where most women would stop when you got close to the edge, she wouldn't stop. She wouldn't get mad if you went off in her mouth. Unlike most women I was with, if you accidentally came in her mouth she would swallow every drop, wait until you recovered, then maybe suck you hard again. Most would be mad at you for coming in their mouth and spit your juices out, all the while telling you what a stupid prick you were.

Because she enjoyed it, I enjoyed it even more, I didn't have to worry about going over the edge. I could concentrate on feeling good, without worrying about feeling TOO good. She sucked dick like a man eats pussy. Getting your partner to go over the edge was the goal, not something to be avoided. Added to that, she was blessed with the perfect set of lips, big and soft, for the job. Add to that the wicked tongue swirl she used on me and it was a lethal combination. I always enjoyed emptying myself into her willing mouth.

This time, though, was different. There would be no reciprocation this time. I could not touch her pussy. She wouldn't let me until her period was over. Had she asked I would have gladly licked her clean, that was how much I was in love with this woman. I was used to pleasing her and her pleasing me. So, I felt a bit guilty about her sucking me off.

Shavonda sensed there was something wrong and asked me if I was ok. "I feel guilty about not being able to get you off," I said, fondling her tit.

"Don't worry about it, Jason. Not worried about it. If it will make you feel better I will let you finger my clit, just this once." Shavonda said. "Now come in my mouth. I ain't tasted you in days." I wasn't sure why she was so uncomfortable with me touching her during her time of month, but I respected any limits she set. She was, after all, my queen. She was the one who had come into my life and set my soul on fire.

Reaching for the bottle, I squirted a little baby oil on my fingertip. She was probably already wet enough down there for me to work my magic, but I was taking no chances. She'd loosened her rule for me, and I didn't want her to feel any pain. I maneuvered into what would have been a sixty nine on any other day, and attempted to pull her panties off. They were large and cotton, and not at all sexy but they held the treasure anyway. Shavonda wore them while on her period, because they were cheap and comfortable. And also, because if they became permanently soiled it was no great loss. She stopped me. "Panties stay on."

We were laying there on our sides, crotches at mouth level. I slipped my hand inside her panties and inserted my finger between her lips, -caressing them. She moaned in appreciation. I was right, she was soaked. "Jason, no penetration," she moaned before taking me into her mouth. She moaned in delight. She worked those soft lips down my shaft and worked her tongue on my sensitive area. One hand gently stroked my shaft as she slid her lips along my swollen manhood,

My finger quickly worked its way to her clit. I rubbed it in gentle circles, Shavonda moaned in delight as I worked my digit with a feather touch. Her lips left my shaft with a pop. "OOOH, baby. That's it, just like that," she cooed, her hand still stroking my length. I continued to lightly rub her button, feeling her lips slide back over my head and begin their slide. She moaned sending vibrations of pleasure through my body. The heel of my hand was resting in her pubic curls as I rubbed her. I was barely touching her, but the combination of baby oil and her juices meant no pressure was needed. My finger glided as though on a film of soap.

I could feel her head quicken as her pleasure built. Her hand moved to my ass and she pulled me into her, forcing my penis deeper into her mouth and throat. God, this was good. How did I get so lucky? All my fantasies and desires were rolled up in one woman and sent my way. And I was there to receive them. She fulfilled them willingly, because they were hers too. We were both people with a high libido, but together we were insatiable. She had thrown one leg over my shoulder. Shavonda's hips were making a slow, sensual movement in time with her head bob. I loved her innate sense of rhythm, her ability to move with grace no matter how awkward the position. The previous weekend we'd made passionate love in a motel shower tub, hot water cascading over us. It was cramped, uncomfortable, but even though she had to be in pain she moved with grace and sensuality under me. It was unforgettable.

This was no different. I sensed a softening in her resolve. The very fact that we were doing this, here, now, despite her discomfort and embarrassment showed me how much she loved me. I made sure not to let her down. She needed this. She probably needed to come even more than I did. So, I did what she least expected. Lying on my right side, her right leg over my shoulder, foot pulling me close, my right finger on her clit rubbing her gently and slowly, I kissed her thigh. I licked it, nibbled it. Her response was immediate. She bobbed her head faster, taking me deeper, her moans more insistent now. I could sense her getting close. I could feel the quiver in her thighs, feel the muscles tighten up, feel her foot holding me to her forcefully. It was time for the secret weapon.

I had somehow worked my left arm under her. I don't remember doing it, but there is was, my hand on the small of her back. I slid my hand further down her body, over the swell of her ass, loving her softness. My lips were still kissing her inner thigh, my rubbed her a bit faster now. My left hand continued its slide down to the spot between thigh and cheek. The spot that had made her explode every time I touched it. I was going to make her explode.

Reaching the spot, I started to caress it with my fingertips. Shavonda attempted to squeal, mouth full of dick. Her teeth clenched and......she bit me! I lost it then, the stimulation was too great and I released in her mouth. Even in her orgasmic frenzy, she realized what she had done, and tried to remove her head from my shaft. No, baby, you bit me. You are going to finish and swallow this nut. My hands shot up to the back of her head, holding her in place as I emptied myself into her mouth. Our bodies shuddered together in mutual orgasm. My spasms subsiding, I released my grip on her head. She raised up on her elbows and looked at me, concern in her eyes and on her face. "Jason, I'm so sorry. Are you ok?" she asked.

"I'll live," I squeaked. She reached over to turn on the light, and we looked at the damage. Her teeth had broken the skin about halfway down my shaft. It was bleeding but not too bad. She ran off the bathroom for some alcohol and band aids. I looked at my finger, it was covered in a mixture of baby oil, pussy juice and blood. As Shavonda returned from the bathroom, concern on her face and medical supplies in hand, I put the finger in my mouth and sucked it clean,

"Jason! That's NASTY!" she cried in horror.

"Actually, it was pretty good," I smiled. "But the baby oils got to go."

We both burst out in laughter. She cleaned my wound. I cringed at the sting of the alcohol but loved the attention.

"I am so sorry," she said. "With what you did to me, I forgot you were in my mouth."

"It's ok," I laughed. "I'll just have to remember that spot's dangerous. Did you enjoy playing nurse?"

"Yeah, it kinda felt good. Can I kiss your boo boo and make it better?"

I laughed. "Yeah, but I have to set a ground rule. No teeth."

She bent over and gave my penis a little kiss, then took the head into her mouth, her lips slid down the shaft just far enough so her tongue could swirl over my sensitive spot below the head. She licked and sucked for a minute before she released me with an audible pop. "Just had to make sure I didn't leave any behind."

We tongue kissed, snuggled in each other's arms. In the short time we'd been together, I'd already given her two mind-blowing orgasms without penetration. I'd kept my word to her tonight, even though I was itching to bone the hell out of her. I'd respected every limit she placed on me. She was my queen. She deserved that. And in return, she took care of my needs, both physical and emotional, in a way that nobody else ever could.

After the Memorial Day cookout, where I met Shavonda's family, our relationship underwent a fundamental change. I'd won their acceptance, and we spent a lot more time with them. I'd also given her the key to my house, and she used it at will. She became a regular at train night on Wednesdays, and always stayed the night. We were spending more time than ever together. Our possessions began to creep into the other's house. She kept a couple of changes of clothes at my house. And my Axe showed up at her house. She still loved the smell of Dark Temptation, and I tried to wear it whenever I was around her. We still lusted uncontrollably for each other, but the pent-up anxiety of only being able to see each other on every other weekend went away.

I was still a bit hesitant about her meeting the kids. I wanted to wait until at least the 3-month mark in mid-august, right after my birthday. She seemed sad but understood. I thought we were into something permanent but I wanted to make sure we didn't flame out. I didn't want my children calling her mommy, only to have her leave their life. If she was going to be a part of it, she was going to be a permanent part of it. "Is it my color?" she asked me one day.

"No," I replied. "Never. Just give it time. If we are a permanent thing you will meet them. I hope that you will accept my children as your own. But I have to give it time first." We compromised, she could come to the park and watch them play. But she couldn't interact with them. I felt cruel for doing this to her. But I was very protective of them. In the park, I would wave at her, and blow her kisses when they weren't looking. The nights the kids stayed over were painful for us, as we had to sleep apart for two nights. I bet she tossed and turned at night. I know I did. The whole situation just plain seemed wrong.

Sunday nights, after I'd dropped the kids off, I'd come home to her, often chatting with Mrs. Zucchero. They liked her. Everybody liked her. Everybody who gave her a chance, that is. I'd take her by the hand into the house. We'd quickly strip out of our clothes and make mad, passionate love, with or without a shower date.

Toward the end of June, I got a call from my mother, back in the mountains of Appalachia. As they did every year, they were planning a family reunion for Grandma's birthday. My family was nowhere near as large as Shavonda's. The party would consist of Grandma, my parents, my sister Sally, my aunt and uncle and their 4 kids, all grown. There were a few great grandkids as well.

"We'd love for you to bring the babies with you," she said. "We haven't seen them in a long time."

"Rose isn't going to let me take them out of state," I told her sadly.

"How is she doing anyway? Are you ever going to remarry her?"

"No, mom. She's as manipulative as ever. I'm done with her. I did everything she asked, came back off the road, bought a house, got a good local job. She still keeps telling me she'll think about it. Well, now I've thought about it and decided I deserve better. I've found better. Way better." It was time to tell her and the family. I was going to take Shavonda to meet the family. I was certain they'd love her if they could get past her race.

"You have a new lady friend? Tell me all about her." She sounded happy. "I never liked Rose anyway. I don't trust her."

"Well, she's very beautiful. She likes the same things I do, especially music. And she owns her own shop, selling jewelry and candles and other stuff." Throwing caution to the wind, I added, "Her name is Shavonda."

"Shavonda, that's a funny name...." she let her words trail off, sounding confused. I decided to confront the elephant in the room.

"Mom, she's black."

"Oh." There was silence on the line for a minute. "Well, anyway, the party's on the 21st of July, here at the house. Bring Shavonda if you want. I'll make sure everybody treats her right. We'll see y'all then."

Hanging up the phone, I let out sigh. I was worried. Shavonda had to meet the family. It was the next step in our relationship. I just hoped my family would accept her like hers accepted me. I phoned Shavonda to tell her the news.

"Hey baby what are you doing the weekend of 21st of July?" I asked.

"Nothing except spend it with you," she said, growling sexily. "Are we going on a road trip?"

"My family is having a reunion. They want to meet you. We'll have to leave Friday, come back Sunday. The party will be Saturday. Can you get somebody to mind the store for you? I'll put in for a vacation day."

"Ooooh I get to meet the family!" she sounded ecstatic. "I can't take this. I'm coming right over to celebrate."

I was sitting on the porch waiting for her when she pulled up in her red Cruze. She bounded up the steps in a white v neck shirt that showed her cleavage nicely, her leopard print miniskirt, and the ever-present sandals. It was obvious from the way she jiggled there was no bra. The evening sun brought out her radiant tones, and her eyes shone brightly. I was right. She WAS ecstatic. She was deliriously happy, like a child on Christmas morning.

She took my face in her hands and planted repeated kisses on my lips. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she giggled. "I get to meet your family," she sang. "This means so much to me! I can't wait!"

She saw my look of confusion. It was a family reunion. To me it was not a big deal. To her it was everything. It represented permanence in our relationship.

"Don't you see, Jason. You're committed to me or else you wouldn't have invited me. Once they meet me there will be no going back. For better or worse they will remember the black girl you brought. You can't go back now! You're mine!"

"I always was, boo," I replied. It all made sense now. Looking at it from Shavonda's perspective, taking me to meet her family was nothing new. She'd dated white men before. She knew what to expect. Others in her family had had interracial relationships. With me it was different. I had held off introducing her to my children. She'd never met ANY of my family. I'm sure she felt neglected, like despite the things I said and the way I treated her. That I was keeping her under wraps. That I was somehow ashamed of her.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. While the situation with the kids was different, the only reason she'd never met my family was because they lived so far away. I was not ashamed of her. I was proud of her. We were going to walk into that reunion, arm in arm, heads held high. She was my queen. She deserved to be treated like royalty.

Even the situation with the kids was not about her race. I would have kept ANY woman I dated away from them for the first few months while I felt out the relationship. They'd never met ANY of the women I'd slept with since Rose. They had no idea anybody else even existed.

I pulled two steaks from the freezer and thawed them while we made out on the couch. She was giddy. She wanted to celebrate. I made her Steak and eggs. She deserved something special for dinner. This was all I had.

We sat in the fenced in backyard at a table next to the swing set, listening to Mars Volta as we ate our dinners. I watched her glow in the evening light. Her happiness was contagious. Once I realized what this meant to her, I was happy too. We sat across from each other, eyes staring, hands together across the table. We looked good together, my pale hand, and her dark one. We WERE good together.

I gathered the plates and silverware and put them in the sink. Returning outside, I sat with Shavonda snuggled under my arm as we watched the sun set. We gathered up the cd player and headed upstairs.

"Von," I said, pulling a cd from the night stand. "Look what I got."

She took the cd, looked at it then smiled at me. It was Jill Scott. "Look in the drawer," I said. She opened it. Inside were cods of Angie Stone, Beyoncé, Rihanna and a few others. I had gotten copies of the music she loved. The music on her iPod. The music we made love to.