A Jungle

Yeah, at one point in my life, I fucked a black girl. I met Denise at college at the dorm at a party, and surprisingly, she came from only a couple of miles from where I lived. This created an instant common bond.

I never really was attracted to black women. They're usually curvier than white girls, which is a good thing, but their attitudes and cultural outlook seemed so foreign to me and my limited white-bread upbringing in the suburbs.

Denise wasn't so "black" that I couldn't talk to her, and her taste in movies was insatiable. We went on dates to the Crest to see any of the non-Hollywood stuff that snuck in between the summer or Christmas season (and not during finals weeks), and had a comfortable but pretty platonic relationship. Or so I thought.

I think Denise wanted to move it further before I did. We began going out after the films for ice cream or pizza, and she would want to sit with me and talk, not just about film, or school, but more personal stuff. Like where I was born, our brothers, stuff like that. Then we would go out with no movie as an excuse. She began to make it clear that she was interested in me physically, and I quickly began intrigued by the idea.

I hadn't had much experience with sex at this point only having been with 2 women before this. The idea of messing about with Denise, her black and somehow exotic and foreign body got me very hot and excited. I picked up whatever bait she dropped, and followed wherever she led.

We finally consumated our sexual curiosity for each other in her dorm room on the 3rd floor. It was a Monday night, about 11, and her roommate had gone out of town for the week. We began to kiss, and then fondle each other.

She let me open her jeans and feel her bush. It was thick, and her pubic hair was courser than mine - kinda like brillo. It was very sexy and got me even harder than I already was.

Denise opened my pants and jerked my erection. Lovingly. The pre-cum on my tip lubricated her small hands up and down the shaft.

I slipped my hand down her panties and between her labia and felt she was incredibly wet. Sopping, and sticky; almost like she'd spilled a smoothie into her cunt.

She pulled her pants down to her ankles and opened her hairy pussy, exposing her surprise pink buried in there. And I rubbed the wettest, ripest and most glistening pussy I ever encountered, then or since. I licked her clit, and got a teaspoon of her pre-cum on my mouth. She moaned softly.

She was so ready to be fucked.

I laid on top of her and entered her, sliding in with no resistance. She was dark and warm - humping her cunt was very "slurpy." My god.

My cock felt warmed and wet, and I had a vision of fucking the nubile natives. I began to pump her.

There was no friction - she was too wet. Just this wet tight creampie of pussy-kiss.

I became aware of her pussy hair rubbing my pubis just above my shaft, making wet squishie noises. I moved against her and within seconds I came, deep inside her. Seemingly without trying.

God I was horny.

She knew what had happened. She smiled.

She grabbed my back and hugged me close, to keep me inside her.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Too quick," I whispered.

She ran her hands over me, feeling me. "We can try again later."

We hung out, and listened to some music. We went downstairs 20 minutes later and got some food out of the machines, and went back upstairs.

Back in her room we fucked again. This time it was slow, and I enjoyed every thrust and her body against mine. My penis still got soaking wet, not only from her pussy fluid but by my sperm inside her from before.

Denise was very appreciative of me, and I tried to do her right, by getting her to cum herself. I diddled and licked her clit as best I knew how, but she never orgasmed. But she seemed to enjoy being with me all the same.

Although we remained friends after that, we didn't go on any other dates to ice cream, or even any movies. She politely declined, saying she was busy or had something else to do. But I never felt like she'd given me the brush off.

After college, when I went back home for a summer, I often thought I might see her back in our home town, and a couple of times I imagined I did, just out of the corner of my eye. And maybe restart the relationship.