The volume was low on the television. You could barely hear the music. I thought for a second he could hear my heart beat when he cleared his throat. ...Hey, Lynn, do you mind that I'm down here? I'm just not tired at all…" He spoke quiet through a hoarse voice. Mine was now raspy, from the loud singing over the music we were recently dancing to, from the alcohol, and now from my sleepiness. "No, it's fine, Mike," I suggested politely. It was after all his house. He didn't answer me. I suppose. Then this buff black guy came in. It was a hot day and he had stripped off his wife beater and stuck it in the waistband of his shorts. He was wearing work boots and socks, and he looked fuckin’ FINE all over! Immediately 5 or 6 fags swarmed the handsome Nigga. But he only had eyes for me! He checked me out up close and walked away. But he made 2 more passes before coming into my booth, his erect 9 -inch cock out of his shorts. I was reeling - this fine black MAN was going to let me give him a. More

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