Tem 26

Sally And The Rastafarian

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Sally, now several weeks into therapy, was discussing her sexual history with Dr. Albers. Her early and subsequent actions followed a pattern of rebellion, self abasement, exhibitionism and carelessness. Seeing a possible catalyst in her family dynamics they began there.Her parents, a lawyer and a high school teacher, were loving and nurturing parents yet she found her upbringing stifling. Outwardly liberal in all their views, they were status conscious snobs. Their disapproval of her friends and contempt for her high school boyfriend, Peter, made leaving home for college a liberating moment. Three months after leaving she was a nude dancer at a low-rent strip club and involved in a torrid affair with a fellow dancer, partly acted out on stage. Then there was Lamont.   At an end of semester frat party she noticed him looking her way several times during the night. Lamont was the campus drug dealer; his primary product was Jamaican pot but he would get you whatever you wanted. Fortyish, muscular and tattooed with dreadlocks halfway down his back he stood out in the otherwise all-white teenage college crowd.A popular figure on campus with a reputation for his interest in college girls, Sally wasn’t surprised when he approached her,  but when he said. “Hi, Lolita”, she was absolutely gobsmacked. It had been six months since her last dance at City Lights and she thought the whole thing was in the past.When he asked if she still worked there all she could come up with was, “That was a while ago.” Sensing her discomfort he went no further and segued to small talk. Before excusing himself to attend to his frat boy clients he whispered in her ear that he thought she was beautiful and handing her his card he turned and left:Lamont BrownDistributor617-434-9099 Her relief at his gentlemanly handling of the situation was palpable, and she liked him.Back at her class work and sorority bahis siteleri activities she would occasionally glance and touch the card, now sitting on her desk. She hadn’t been with anybody since her brief and intensely sexual affair with one of the other dancers at City Lights. Was she ready? As the days passed she found herself thinking and fantasizing more and more about this man. Black, possessing an element of danger and roughly charming, he was catnip for her. He had probably seen her naked, on stage, playing with her pussy for the amusement of a bunch of horny men, so she didn’t have to pretend she was some kind of shrinking violet. Calling him would be an unambiguous signal that she was ready for whatever he had in mind. She reached for the phone.Lamont picked up on the first ring and when she introduced herself as Lolita he said, “Hello beautiful. I was hoping you’d call.” Sally then thanked him for being so thoughtful that night at the party, he had caught her completely by surprise.“I always try to be nice to pretty girls,” was his reply. He then asked what else was on her mind. “You’re on my mind,” was her reply. They arranged to meet at Club Caribe, a West Indian hangout in Roxbury, not exactly a great part of town but it was, in a way, part of her fantasy.“Wear something pretty,” were his final words.Rummaging through her closet she found her shortest skirt, a halter top and a pair of sexy heels. “Pretty”,  meant skimpy and sexy. He’d like this outfit; she didn’t bother with underwear. Getting into the shower she decided to shave her pussy, something she hadn’t done in some time. She always liked the way that looked and felt, she was sure Lamont would feel the same way.  It was about a forty-five minute drive and she was lucky to find a parking spot nearby. Walking around Roxbury at night was not exactly the safest thing to do, especially for a white woman canlı bahis siteleri dressed as she was. When they asked her for ID at the door, as she was only eighteen, she told them she was there to see Lamont. That was all it took, he was obviously a known commodity.Dark, smokey, and loud she was the only white person in the place and created a bit of a stir as she looked for Lamont. She found him in a back booth with three other men and an older woman. He stood to greet her and asked her to turn around so he could look at her. The skirt barely covered her ass and her heels made her shapely legs go on forever. He pulled her close and kissed her; she delighted in the feel of his hard body.She slid in the booth as Lamont poured her a beer and introduced her to his friends, two of whom said they’d heard a lot about her. I bet they have, she thought. When Lamont put his hand on her knee she spread her legs, inviting him in; she also jacked her skirt up a bit, giving the guy on her right, James, a full view of their sex play.Lamont was drinking beer with his left hand and working her pussy with his right, and she was soon dripping. Taking her by the hand he led her to the men’s room in the rear of the club, bent her over the sink and gave her a pounding unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Her vocalizations attracted a small audience of voyeurs who were happy to see this pretty white girl getting fucked by a black man. Back at the table everyone had a big laugh when Lamont said Sally was now Jamaican by injection. More beer, snacks, three hours of pawing and Lamont was ready for another session. Leading her into the men’s room he stripped her naked and unbuckled his pants. She eagerly got on her haunches and took him in her mouth. She loved giving head, referring to it as her dirty pleasure. Once again she then found herself bent over the sink for an encore performance canlı bahis by her black lover.  At closing time, Lamont walked her to her car and said goodnight. They didn’t engage in a lot of conversation; it wasn’t really necessary.  A week or so later, while studying at the school library, she couldn’t dismiss thinking about Lamont and what she would like to be doing with him. Her thoughts kept returning to the night at Club Carib. Being naked and getting fucked from behind by a big black man in a dumpy men’s room while people looked on was a sex fantasy made reality; she wanted more. Asking permission to use the phone at the main desk she called him.“Hello beautiful,” was his reply after she identified herself.“Guess what I’ve been thinking about?” she seductively asked. Lamont laughed and said he’d been thinking about her too. He was making a delivery on campus and he could pick her up in a half hour or so if she wanted. Yes, he knew where the library was. Right on time, he pulled up in his sporty BMW. She apologized for not wearing “prettier” clothes, her bag, though, now contained her pantyhose, panties and bra. He told her she looked great.As they silently drove to Roxbury he looked over at this pretty college girl. Her blouse, carelessly buttoned, afforded him an enticing view of her breasts.  He loved her slender, athletic body. Unlike the others, and there were many, she also didn’t engage in small talk about his life. She didn’t care about Jamaica, Rastafarianism or anything about his life, she just wanted to get fucked. They were going, he said to his club: The Roxbury Cricket Association. The RCA was a storefront with apartments above in a mostly abandoned strip mall. Inside was a giant photo of Haile Selassie, several Jamaican flags and, much to her surprise, dozens of photos of men playing cricket. There was also a bar, small bandstand, pool table and about a dozen booths occupied by Creole-speaking Rastafarian drug dealers and their female companions. The smell of marijuana was pervasive. Everybody knew Lamont and everybody was intensely interested in his young companion.

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