White on Black

Posted by: Author: Age: 50 Posted on: 1 comments
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It's not often you see a naked boy in your backyard; especially in 1965, even in Mountain View, California.



There he was, trying to hide behind the agapantha. Even his dark brown skin didn't help. As a ten-year-old, I had no particular burning desire to see a naked boy. I had changed the neighbors' babies many times and felt no attraction towards male genitals. They were just one more thing to clean.



I did, however, have a smoldering curiosity about why a naked boy would be in my backyard. I walked out the back door and marched right up to the agapantha. The poor boy was trying to hide himself, eyes wide, apparently hoping I wouldn't notice him.



'What are you doing there?' I asked in a flat, matter of fact voice.

'T..T...They took my clothes,' he stuttered, keeping his hands over his penis. 'First of all I've seen lots of boys. You don't have to hide from me. Second of all, who took your clothes?' I was troubled that anyone would feel the need to hide themselves from me, very distressed that anyone would take another's clothes. He relaxed a bit, but kept himself covered. 'Those two boys. Um, Curly and Sue.'



I raised my eyebrows, Curly and Sue were mischievous, but they had never done anything like this before. 'You sure?' I demanded. 'Yes,' replied the boy with more than a hint of resentment in his voice.



1965. It was right in the middle of all the civil rights stuff, and at the beginning of the resurgence of women's rights. The first, to be politically correct, African-American family had moved into the neighborhood. It took exactly three months for all the horrified bigots to move out, with the exception of one family, whose yard was so trashy that they couldn't sell. To further confuse things, the parents of Curly and Sue had welcomed the new family with cookies and later a barbeque. We hadn't been invited because our family was a little too hippy-ish for the neighborhood. My parents let me play naked in the sprinklers in the back yard, for example.



'You can't stay out here,' I insisted, put out that one of my neighbors would behave so boorishly. 'Come in and I'll lend you some clothes.' The boy looked like he was going to object, then ran for the back door. I noted how cute his little black ass looked running for the house, and wondered why I would care about such stuff. As soon as I got in, he said, 'But you're a girl!' 'So?' I asked.



He responded with the obvious. 'But you have girls clothes,' he complained. 'Oh,' was my timid response. It took all of ten seconds to think it through. 'Would you rather go naked?'



'NO!' 'Okay, then, come on,' I trumpeted triumphantly. Timidly, he followed me down the hall. He hesitated at my door. I gave him the look. The one I had learned from my dad when he thought I was being ridiculous. He came in.



'You still covering yourself?' I asked in a disgusted tone. He slowly took his hands away then crossed them on his chest. I pulled a pair of white silk panties from my drawer. As I turned around, I was taken with the size of his balls, and his three-inch erection sticking straight up. I looked at his embarrassed face. 'Cool,' I said, then held out the panties.



He looked at them as if they were slimy worms then quickly pulled them up. He turned around to tuck in his stiffy. I couldn't help admire the effect of white silk on his tight little bottom. I couldn't help giggling at the tent he made when he turned around either. I got him the least girlish pants and shirt I had. He quickly pulled them on and headed for the door.



'Wait!' I pleaded. He stopped in mid-stride. 'What's your name?'

'Joseph,' he replied, and bolted.



Curly and Sue were hauled over to Joseph's house by their collars and could be seen, shame-faced in the kitchen, forced apology dropping from their lips like splatters of molten filth. The mother of Curly didn't stop grimacing for a month! That's how long Curly and Sue were grounded too. You could see the two of them pacing the boundary of their yards, not daring their parent's anger if they stepped a toe outside.



Now, let's go quickly through the next forty years. Joseph got along well with Curly and Sue too. The three of them got in trouble for filling the principal's office with balloons one Sunday, though every adult involved was obviously trying not to laugh. Joseph and I were fast friends. We did lots together, and even dated a couple of times. We found we could talk about everything and anything. Yes, we talked about sex.



We knew, however, that a mixed race relationship would be difficult, and drifted towards people of our own color for romance. Joseph married in 1975, and I in 1976. We kept in touch over the years, getting together each summer despite our wanderings through the U.S.

My husband died of a heart attack in 2003. He was one of those men compelled to succeed. He was away about every other week of our marriage. I didn't really mind, because he was happy doing what he was doing, and when he was home, he was really home. To our kids, he was a friend and a gruff but kindly parent. To me he was friend and lover. I still feel warm when I remember sex with him.



Joseph's wife died in an auto accident in 2004. I went to the funeral. Our families had become such close friends, we all showed up and cried buckets. Later that week, I went to Joseph's home to see what I could do to help. He was lying on his bed (fully clothed of course). I let myself in.



'Hi, how are you doing?' I sat on the side of the bed. 'I don't know whether to cry or scream,' he said, holding out his hand for mine.

'I know what you mean,' I responded sadly. He smiled. 'I guess you do.' We held hands quietly for ten minutes or so. Joseph then looked up. 'I want to show you something.' 'Okay.'



He went to his dresser drawer and pulled something out from under everything. As he held it up, I was startled. It was the white silk panties I had lent him. They showed signs of considerable wear. I raised a questioning eyebrow. 'Yes, I used them to masturbate many times,' he said with a self-conscious grin. 'I was thinking about using them again when you walked in. A few minutes more and you would have caught me in the act.'



I built a mental picture, and felt lust. Two years of abstinence had taken their toll. 'I'd like to see that!' I responded with enthusiasm. He looked a bit surprised. 'Okay. Consider it a belated thank-you for your kindness forty years ago.' I watched him undress. Little boy muscles had given way to manly muscles. They were a little past their prime perhaps, but still attractive. Little boy penis had given way to long, thick instrument of pleasure, rippled with blood vessels. His erection was almost complete before he lowered his boxers.



Joseph lay down on the bed and wrapped his hand around the silk panties, which were around his shaft. I could feel my moisture let down quickly, and I squatted to make contact between my heel and my clitoris.



Slowly, he rubbed his gorgeous manhood. Slowly I rubbed my swollen womanhood. Judging his orgasm I timed myself to orgasm at the same time. Our shouts filled the empty house with delight.



We had lunch together (fully clothed), then I proposed, 'Let's get married.' Joseph looked deep into my eyes, looking for commitment. 'Yes, let's.'



We waited for six months so as to offend as few people as possible. Well, we masturbated together weekly. But otherwise we waited. Tonight is the night. I bought Joseph white silk boxers. I happen to know (being snoopy) he bought me black silk panties. I've been wet all day! Wish us luck.

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