Salima the Magnificent

"Come with me white boy. I'm going to show you what a black girl can
do."

Salima led me by the dick to the living room and told me to sit down
on the couch. When a woman has a man by the dick, he'd better follow
her orders. Salima knelt over me, lowered herself, inserted my dick
between her soapy legs and gave out a half-gasp, half sigh. Salima
wasted no time in taking me all in. Salima felt incredibly tight,
despite all the soap and her own lubrication. As she drove my dick
further and further in, I thought she would tear the skin off it or
crush it into pulp. Finally Salima's curly black bush tangled with my
brown pubes. Salima's gasp/sighs turned into moaning as her first
orgasm mounted, washed over her and then subsided. Salima tightened
even more around my dick but I was able to hold on. I knew from our
first night that Salima was hot, relentless and multi-orgasmic. I
would be giving her much more pleasure before this was over.

I reached up and began to touch Salima's breasts. In the daylight, I
could see the large circles of her areolas surrounding long,
fingerlike nipples. Salima's nipples stood firm and erect, her twin
erections keeping my stiff dick company. My hand glided smoothly over
Salima's wet breasts and she began to sigh again. Salima lifted
herself slightly and then slammed into me, slamming my dick into her
mass of internal contracting muscles. Salima pulled herself up and
then slammed me in again. Salima picked up the tempo and started to
play with her clitoris at the same time.

"Grab my ass Steve. Dig those white fingers of yours into my black
ass!"

I tried to oblige but Salima's ass was bouncing up and down that it
was hard to hold on. Even if I could grab black buttocks, her muscles
were so tense I had no hope of digging in. Finally, she took her hand
from her pussy and jammed my dick all the way in. Now, I dug my
fingers into that magnificent round black ass. Salima did some small
fast shuddering strokes as her insides tightened around my dick. We
both screamed in passion as our orgasms came simultaneously and rushed
furiously through our bodies.

Salima leaned forward and placed a breast on my mouth, as if she
realized that she had denied me something during our love-making. I
kissed one and then the other. She reluctantly withdrew me and white
semen flowed over her black legs and on to my lap.

"Let's clean ourselves, Steve. I don't want to give a sister more work
cleaning pecker tracks off the sofa."

Salima left, started the shower and I washed my dick at the sink. I
dressed and waited for Salima to dry her hair. When she was finished,
I discovered that a black woman is no different from a white woman in
at least one way. Salima took the rest of the towels for herself.

Fortunately, the breakfast brunch was still open. I felt that all the
eyes were on us as we were the only interracial couple in the dining
room. Salima said she had never been in the hotel before but I was
surprised she had never been to a breakfast brunch before. She seemed
to be suspicious of anything she encountered before, such as blintzes
and lox. I explained what everything was and suggested she try a
little bit of what was new. I told her to shun the scrambled eggs as
they were always rubbery and tasteless in a buffet. When we sat down,
I said:

"Salima, you have to tell me why you're cheating on your husband with
another married man."

"OK, if you tell me first why you come here all the way from Canada to
chase black pussy"

"That sounds fair. Yes, I am married but my wife seems to talk to me
only when she wants to criticize me or to tell me to do something for
her. When I've done it, she never show appreciation. She's never civil
to me and the sex has become so routine and lifeless that I don't feel
I've been really laid for a year. So, I came starved for love and when
I met you at the airport, you were so exotic and beautiful that I
wanted to talk to you. In Canada, we don't have many black people so I
really had never had a black woman even as a friend. When we talked,
you weren't intimidating or aggressive and I began to want to know you
in the Biblical sense. I never imagined that sex with a black woman
would be like it was last night or this morning."

"Well Steve, you've been kind, shown me some respect, really the first
time any guy, black or white, has treated me like a lady. You don't
know how many jerks I drive around. It's like having a van full of my
husband. Now, he ain't too bad a man. He shouts at me a lot but he
never beat me. He just don't pay attention no more to me. He come and
go and hang around with his drinking buddies. So, I guess I was ready
for any one who said a kind word to me and it was my luck that it was
you. You were nice to me last night so I let you get into my pants.
No, actually I wanted you in my pants. The more we talked, the more I
hoped you would ask me up to your room. So, I got no complaints about
the bed work you've done. I don't have any experience other than my
husband but you're great. You're gentle and patient and you let me
have it just the way I want it, every time."

"Salima, I thought it was you who was giving it to me the way I wanted
it. I want it that way the rest of my life."

"Don't you go getting stuck on me Steve. Enjoy every moment we have
together and watch what happens."

As we talked about what we liked about each other and our superb
love-making, I swear that I heard the piano player launch into "Ebony
and Ivory." We agreed to talk only about what was developing between
us and never mention our spouses. Any further whining about our bad
marriages would ruin our encounter. I agreed that we would enjoy each
moment to the fullest. One rule that I said I would not consider was
Salima's order not to get stuck on her. I said that my feelings were
mine and she couldn't tell me what emotions I could or could not have.

We left the hotel restaurant and started a tour of Salima's Chicago.
We walked through beautiful parks and marinas, something I thought
couldn't exist in a large city. Salima suggested we look at some
shops. I was about to explain that I hoped she wasn't looking to be
her sugar daddy but she cut me short:

"I hate shopping for junk. Anyway what would I tell my husband when I
got home with something new? I just like to look."

Since we weren't interested in buying, we developed a game with
snobbish clerks. I would let Salima start looking at something and I
would watch from a distance. When I suspected that a clerk was putting
Salima down, I would roll up and start to play the part of her old
sugar daddy. It was a complete riot watching the store clerk and
sometimes even the manager undertake racial damage control. Then we
would walk out completely insulted, stifling our giggles until we were
out of sight of the store. People on the streets must have thought we
were an old married couple, complete idiots or both, the way we would
suddenly change from angry to laughing. In a sense, we were a couple
as we had already lived a lot together even though we hadn't been
together 24 hours.

Salima then said she was hungry and asked if I wanted to find out what
soul food was all about. Of course I wanted to and that's how I got to
go to my first soul food restaurant. The restaurant had seedy tables
and chairs but a very modern buffet table, clean and inviting. I
sampled everything, the chitlins, the greens and other things I can't
recall but Salima was my guide. She told me that I must be the
strangest white guy in the world because I enjoyed soul food. I told
her that poor people were ingenious at making cheap ingredients taste
good. I promised her that I would show her what poor white people did
with cheap ingredients.

After supper, Salima took me to some jazz and Blues clubs. She liked
traditional Blues just like me. Could she dance? Salima was such a
natural dancer that she made me dance and enjoy it, even though I am
far from natural. Salima was polite and said I was quite a good dancer
for a "tight-assed white guy". I noticed that everyone was polite but
not particularly friendly to us. Salima put it this way: "Think of how
people would treat your sister and a black man if they went together
to a white club."

When the clubs closed, I asked Salima to come back to my hotel. I said
that I had to have her again. This time there were no games, no
shyness. As soon as we entered my room, Salima wasted no time on
preliminaries. She took off all my clothes, dropped hers to the floor
and pulled me to the bedroom.

"Tonight I'm going to show you as good a time to pay you back for the
good time you've shown me. I'm going to fuck your white brains out
right now."

As I wondered what could be better than what we had already done,
Salima shoved me roughly to the bed and pinned me down. Salima started
making love to me like a woman possessed. I think it was the evening
of dancing and the erotic sounds of the Blues that sent her over the
edge into uncontrollable passion. Salima smothered me with kisses up
and down the body. Her luscious soft lips found spots on me I never
knew were erogenous. Every time I tried to get involved, she would
gently say:

"Just enjoy it. Not many men ever get this treatment from their
lover."

She was right, as usual. So I enjoyed but I wondered why Salima
deliberately avoided the dick, the #1 erogenous zone. Then I found
out. Slowly and gently, she closed in on it and then kissed, licked
and gently stroked the shaft, never kissing the tip. This was
agonizing pleasure, please forgive the oxymoron.

Finally, when I thought I couldn't stand it any more, she got on top
of me and started to rub my dick up and down between her pussy lips. I
thought I would go off but it was Salima who had a shuddering orgasm.
Then she came down on my dick and grunted. "Man, I've never been as
tight as this. Do you ever get me horny."

Normally, I'm not a fan of the woman on top as that's usually the
position favoured by dominating ballbusters and that type of woman
doesn't know how or care how to take care of a man. Salima was
different. She knew what I wanted and she knew how to get what she
wanted out of me. When she finally took me all in, Salima began to
stroke me in and out, long and slow, extending the pleasure of the
moment. She knew exactly how to keep us both on the edge. Yes, Salima
was on top of me and on top of her form tonight. Finally, when Salima
had enough, she reached behind and gently took my balls. She tightened
inside around my dick and we both screamed as we had an orgasm
together. We collapsed, exhausted and perspiring.

"You're magnificent," I said.

"Nothing more than you deserve after what you've done for me", she
replied. Then Salima started to become restless, just like the night
before.

"I see you want to go. Can't you stay with me just one night?"

Salima said "I've got to work tomorrow and I can't show up in party
clothes. I have to go home and get my uniform. Don't worry lover, I'll
get away early tomorrow."

Salima kissed me and made me stay in the bed. I could hear the soft
rustling of clothes as she found the clothes that she had dropped on
the way to the bedroom. Finally, the door opened and closed and I
drifted off to well-laid slumber.

I was sleeping peacefully, dreaming of my newfound lover when I heard
knocking at my door. Was that the housekeeper because I had forgotten
the "Do Not Disturb" sign? I got up, grabbed the houserobe and opened
the door. There was Salima in her uniform with that smile I had grown
to love.

"Hurry up my sleepyhead. I have to go to work this afternoon and we
don't have all day."

I had a quick shower but today, I didn't have any company. Salima made
coffee, which I definitely needed, given my lack of sleep. Salima was
cheerful and kept telling me to hurry up.

"Woman, don't you ever sleep?" I asked.

"Not when I've got a great day planned like this one. You're about to
learn more about your religious African-American but you've got to
drink your coffee and get going. Hurry up, Steve."

We hurried to the Elevated and caught a train that was headed to a
part of Chicago Salima hadn't shown me yet.

"OK, where are we headed?" I asked.

"We are going to Black Church"

"Church? Salima darling, has it occurred to you that we are a pair of
cheating adulterers and maybe we shouldn't go to church? Besides, what
if one of your friends see you show up with a white guy that isn't
your husband."

"Steve, if people who done wrong stopped going to church, even the
preacher wouldn't be there on Sunday. Anyway, I picked out a church
where they don't know me at all, never mind some white guy from
Canada."

Salima's church of choice that Sunday was a Pentecostal church with
lots of hugging, amens and dancing in the aisles. Did they hug a lot
in this church? Well, I pressed more black flesh that morning than I
ever did before or since. Could they sing? They sang all the old time
gospel favourites for those of us who may be a little older but the
teenagers sang what they called "urban gospel". To me, urban gospel
was just rap with clean lyrics but what did I know then about Black
church. When you're new at something, go with the flow. Want to know
something? I actually liked it. Compared to white church where the
minister is up front doing all the work, in Black Church everyone gets
involved in what's happening, singing and dancing along. Even the
preacher was peppered with comments and encouragement from the
congregation as he gave his sermon. Why am I telling you about a
church in what is supposed to be an erotic story? When I was studying
the poems of John Donne, my English teacher made the comment that
there was a fine line between the religious and the erotic. I had to
wait until I went to Black Church to see just how erotic religion
could be. My Salima was at her most sexy when she was singing in the
church and her hands were in the air.

When we got back downtown, I said "Now you get to find out how poor
white folks eat." I had in mind a Polish restaurant I had spotted when
we were on our fantasy "shopping spree". The first thing I ordered was
flazcke. Salima said "That's soup made out of chitlins." "Salima, when
peasants in Europe were not much better than slaves to the nobility,
they had to eat what the lords threw away. They made the best of it
and developed food that looks a lot like soul food." I showed Salima
that most of the menu was what a poor Polish peasant would eat and not
much different from what the slaves ate. By the time we left, Salima
agreed that poor white and black people had to do whatever was needed
to survive.

We went back to my room at the Hotel. Housekeeping had by now restored
some order there. I wasn't sure if I could make love knowing that this
could be our last time. We became shy with each other again and slowly
started lovemaking. We moved around the suite, partly dancing and
partly taking off each other's clothes. The music for the dance was
inside each of us but we had become so close that it was the same for
us both.

Once completely naked, we moved towards the bed and made love slowly,
with subdued passion. Salima was not in a frenzy as she was the
previous evening but I sensed she was more confident. As we made love,
I moved my hands down her body and played with her soft stomach. This
is an erogenous zone that men miss too often when making love. From
the reaction I got, Salima had missed it too much in her life. She
became noisier and noisier as I awoke her passions and lust for the
last time. My hand then moved over her curly beaver and clasped her
womanhood gently. I massaged her bush, bringing out more noises.
Remember the talkative psycho from Sling Blade? I'm a bit like him
because I like a big bush and Salima had what I liked. A big bush
makes for a little cushioning of the hand when massaging the beaver
and the soft touch drives a woman crazy.

Salima's arms were around me and held me more tightly as the noise
level increased. I made my way through that magnificent bush, spread
her lips and placed my fingers inside her pussy lips for the first
time. Fingers actually require more skill than tongues as the strength
of a finger can actually numb an erect clitoris. The secret is to
lubricate the finger (and the passionate Salima made this easy) and
slide it between the lips. Never rub dry lips or you can end up cut
off for the night. Also, avoid touching spicy food with the fingers or
you're on the road to a sexual disaster. Another secret for fingers is
to start well below the clitoris and move up, along the sides but
never directly on top of the clitoris. Salima responded to this
treatment and nearly broke my back and my eardrum as she exploded in
an orgasm.

At this point, Salima and I almost had our first fight as we both
wanted to go oral on the other. I calmed things down by suggesting
that 69 was the solution. Besides being part French, I have another
secret for 69. I don't think I mentioned my beard, but it's handy to
have for 69. I don't know if that is what attracts the chicks to me
but a beard will tickle the inside of the woman's thighs during 69.
Done right, she will go crazy as all the curly hair gets tangled
together. Salima's bush went down her thighs slightly, increasing the
contact with the beard. Salima had an uncanny ability to respond to
what I performed on her but never forget her part of the job. I
thought I had the tongue of death but Salima was awesome, the way her
tongue went up, down, around my balls and up again, never touching the
tip of the dick.

After Salima came, I got up, told her to get on her knees and I took
her from the back. She was even tighter from this direction and I
checked if I was dipping the wick in the right spot. Salima was
terrific that Sunday but I decided I would make this last as long as I
could, stroking in and out slowly. Salima wasn't much of a
conversationalist during lovemaking and, to tell you the truth,
talkative white women are really covering up the fact that they aren't
having a good time. I prefer my white women quiet during sex.

Salima's talked all right but it was right to the point. Salima
started giving out specific directions for the doggie position,
telling me how deep, when to slow down, when to speed up. I think it
was good for her but I can tell you it was perfect for me. Finally, I
was in as deep as I could get. The tip of my cock was way past her
cervix. I had my hands on Salima's wide hips and I was giving her the
short strokes. My stomach was slapping on her ass cheeks and, as my
balls swung between her thick thighs, I felt my ball hairs catching on
her bush. Salima's moaning became louder as the short strokes came
quicker. With loud screams and groans, we both came simultaneously. We
collapsed and Salima kept her back to me, holding my hand to her firm
breasts.

We lay together until Salima's breathing slowed to normal. I felt that
restlessness I had come to hate and Salima got up and dressed quickly
and tidied her hair.

"I have to go to work now, Steven and we can't see each other any
more. I don't regret anything we've done, except that I made you too
serious about me. Remember I told you not to get stuck on me. You
taught me what real love is like and I want that now with my man. You
taught me that it can work between a man and a woman but I have to go
back to my man and make it work."

'Salima," I protested. "We're perfect together"

"Yes, I love to be with you. I always dreamed as a teenager about what
the perfect man for me would be like. I never imagined the man for me
would be white, almost 20 years older than me and live thousands of
miles away. Really, you've made me happy this weekend but one thing
about this weekend that I learned was that I just don't fit into white
society. You had fun at the club and the church but I don't think you
would fit in with my friends, either. Besides, if we had children,
you're older than I am and you wouldn't be around when the kids were
going through their most difficult years. They would need a father
because they wouldn't be black or white. If you think black kids have
problems growing up, interracial kids have more problems combined than
black or white kids. Plus, you and I are still just as married as when
we met two days ago. Can you see that it's too complicated to try and
get together? So, please don't try and look me up. I'll miss you but
I'll be fine. I want you to enjoy your conference and learn a lot.
Please go back to your woman and make it work with her."