Free Reading
reviewed November 23, 2011
CAUTION, although a tale of Forbidden Love continues to be one
of the author’s most popular reads, a revised expanded version, BLACK ON
WHITE, Books One through Four, is also currently available in Kindle
format at Amazon and as a Nook Book at B&N. Enough differences in both
versions exist to make EACH work a consideration, but any prospective purchaser
should be aware of the similarities.
EXCERPTS from “a tale
of Forbidden Love”
PLANTATION WOMAN (circa, mid eighteen hundreds)
Reasoning gives way to reality when Jane recalls an unusual attraction to the slave Buck from the first day she saw him.
They had been in the big city; her husband was looking for a breeding stud while she searched in the shops in a better part of town for an evening dress for a party to be held at their neighbor’s plantation.
Later, when they each completed their tasks, he picked her up at a predetermined spot. There was a slave tied to a long rope at the back of the buggy. Jane, as the nigger ran along behind, knew this was no ordinary slave. He was a foot taller than most, well-developed, dark black: he carried himself in an almost princely way. What quiet dignity under such horrible conditions, tethered by a rope around his neck, while the rich couple sat shaded inside.
Their journey neared its end when Master John stopped at the slave quarters and showed off their new acquisition to the slave foreman. Jane remained inside, fanning herself in cushioned comfort as the two men discussed their slave. They weren’t aware; when Master said what a good breeder the new stud would be and then exposed his privates that Jane could see the whole exchange. “Why she almost swooned when she saw the exposed body of the giant black man.”
“IT was huge! No man could have an organ like that. No woman could receive it,” Jane thought. Or could she?
Jane couldn’t get the giant black out of her mind. That night, one of the few times her husband showed her attention, back when she was still sleeping in the same room, it was the black man, the one with the huge manhood, who was entering her, who made love to her. She loved it, her thrilled by him, stuffed to fullness by Buck, her slave.
Her passion soared. Big, black male: he was her man, her slave. Reality enters. ‘It’s over’. Her husband hadn’t even recognized her passion, her fantasy. It was nothing, just like the other times. He rolls over, is snoring. She lies next to him, unfulfilled, thinking about the black man. She wonders if it would be possible, if there’d be a way.
She’d see Buck from time to time as he was entering and leaving the fields. Overheard at times were the slave woman, in the house as they giggled and gossiped about his love machine, ‘satisfaction guaranteed’. He was a man who could please any woman. Jane, who hadn’t had a satisfactory sex experience since Nat back in her teen years, wonders if a slave would be right for her this time too.
‘Nat was bigger than any white man I ever had. He was the only man who satisfied me. He was big and black. Buck is even larger than he was. I’m not even sure I could do someone as gigantic as he was that time I saw him. He wasn’t even erect then. What in the world would he be like getting all excited about having someone white and pretty like me? Maybe it would be too much. I’d sure like to try, though.’
Just the thought made her knees shake.
‘Could I
get him alone? Would he do what I said? He had to if I said so, didn’t
he’?
(Buck, the plantation
breeding Negro, is summoned to the sleeping quarters of the Plantation Heiress)
****
Okay, I take off my shirt if dat
be all right and yo promise me dat Masta John say it
okay. Der, dat’s
okay. No! Plez, Missus not suppos
to feel my pants. Oh, I betta go. Yz,
I herd Masta did baby mak with young Rhoda May but dat okay cause he de Masta. Yo say he say it okay fo yo now too? Pleze
cov up Missus.Yez, yo look
good but Iz kno it
ain’t rite. Yez, I kno
it gettin bigga but I don kno hoe to mak it stop. Oh, don
touch. Oh, no one eber did dat
befo.
I lay on de bed but Promis yo won do nutin, I don want to do the wrong thing wi Masta John’s Lady.
"Relax, Buck, while I rub your fine big body. Doesn’t that make you feel good to have me touch your stomach? See there’s nothing wrong with that. No? Look at you. My goodness it’s huge. I know you want me.”
Pleze Misus. It be too big for a purdy one like you is anyway. Masta John not wants me put my big thing in his little white woman. Us niggas are bigger and it even ugly pared to his nice one. I fraid I hurt you. Pleze don be angry. What if the Masta fin out?
“Shut up and listen. I know you want me and the puny Masta won't ever find out. He’s going to be away for at least a week and I’m sure am not going to tell. Now, lay down on the bed with me.”
Buck looks longingly at the beautiful woman lying tempestuously before him. Her legs are parted slightly. He sees her flaming bush, the red hair down there. It never occurred to the simple slave that a woman’s covering, her core of womanhood, would be adorned in colors different than the black curliness of his slave girls. Here is a white woman, more beautiful than his wildest imagination and, ‘she wants me’. He looks at her beautiful breasts, and reaches out to touch her.
She has him now. She knows it. Her brain swirls with excitement,
He’s black, big and forbidden. I’m doing the unthinkable and I’m going to love it. No clumsy, thoughtless ‘think Machine’ like my husband. The nerve of him, thinking he had to be the first man to pluck his little nigger slave girls. I’ll show him. This delicious, big, hunk of man is looming down, covering me. A huge black pleasure machine and he’s mine. I’ve wanted him, hungered for him, and, finally, I’m going to have him. He’s going to use me. I'm going to have him in me. All of him!
She spreads, opens for him. His huge black body looms over and then covers the forbidden white woman. She feels impossible pressure, as Buck pushes and strains to complete the impossible. Nothing is happening. She panics.
It’s too big, it won’t go in .I should have known something as unnatural as this wouldn’t be possible. It’s wrong. I can’t do it.
A wave of heat chases away moral reasoning as his part touches her pleasure center.
“I know what I’m doing. I’m doing the forbidden. A massive black man with the biggest tool there can be is about to invade my very being. He’s there. He’s entering. I can do it
“Oh, MY God!”
****
Heaven’s doors, no, maybe its hell’s gates are opening for the slave.
‘She’s tight. Tightest I’ve ever had. Must be cause she’s white and never had no chillin. Mustn’t get too excited.’
Looking, sinking into her depths, he admires the most beauty he could ever have, and he’s there.
‘She is mine, the alabaster beauty lying beneath me.’ Her red hair flames in the moonlight. His senses are reeling. His mind, his entire being throbs. He’s at her place of beauty. He’s knocked, she’s inviting him in.
‘She’s hot down there, like a furnace. ‘Go Slow’, he reminds himself as he feels familiar churning deep in his loins. I can’t finish already.’ He’s never even had a white woman before, and this one is lovely beyond description. ‘It is wrong, terribly wrong, but I must have her:’ And, My God, he is getting her. He’s going in.
Tight, tight, maybe I'm hurting her?’ Her hips are moving. She’s enjoying it even more than the many black women he’d bedded with. She’s bucking now: a sensual, body captivating rhythm of love and sin that holds his black love deep inside—‘Hah! As if he’d want to be anywhere else,’ he extols as his reciprocating thrusts beat almost savagely into her forbidden white body. He doesn’t know why it’s happening. It’s wrong. He doesn’t care. He can’t stop. He has to have her.
***
Jane wants it to last forever. At first she felt resistance as this large, no, largest black man goes where no man had ever gone before. It hurt some and then, “Oh my God,” the pressure turned to pleasure.
This is more intensity than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. Fuck my husband and his little slave-virgins, this is real. It’s a tide. I'm drowning. I’m turning to liquid.
Night sounds reflect increasing fervor, quiet cautious little whispers at first as two lovers engage in such a totally illicit sexual act. A gently rocking canopied bed increases its orgasmic tempo, as sounds of satisfaction cymbal together, that distinct slapping noise of two bodies joining and parting in punish-ignoring abandon joined by sounds of suction and gasping satisfaction —Plantation Lady has her perfect revenge. The slave, well, he didn’t mind belonging to someone now—“it was plenty all right to be owned by White Lady’.”
****
When they first started, he was afraid he would be too large for a tiny white woman like Lady Jane, she being so unlike the large-hipped, big-busted women of his own race. Fearfully and hesitantly he enters the forbidden temple. She is whimpering: “does she want me to stop? What is she saying?”
“More, More!” What else? “Oh God, you’re so big, so black.”
She’s leaning forward, watching as he disappears and reappears from her. Her hips plunge, engulfing him totally. He’s in, all the way, IN! A pleasure tool even some black women said was too much and this little white beauty is writhing, pumping, and calling for more.
When he comes, she thought it would be over. Reality shows it had just begun. She holds him close to her, breasts burning against his black, sweaty chest. A little toy lost and tossed by this massive animal. He’s still in. Both, his male and her female parts are throbbing gently.
“MY God! You ARE my black God.” “You’re getting hard again.’
She loves it. Massive even when not excited, he’s getting firm again. Her body arches upward as she feels his delightful expansion finding new life all over again, stretching and filling her carnivorous depths—unbelievable, yet perfect.
‘Just like before, No it’s better, it doesn’t hurt at all this time.’ Her lean white legs wrap around his dark hips, move even higher to wickedly clamp around his waist, pulling the woman even tighter to her man and him even deeper into her. Cool fingers caress his back, his arms and his lean muscular buttocks. In their dance of love and passion, each sings inwardly.
“It’s never been better than this.”
She uses her vice like grip to pull him to her—bodies slap almost noisily together as she meets his hard downward strokes. Loves thunder together in this forbidden, mind numbing pleasure seek.
The beautiful aristocrat's cries and meows of pleasure repeat over and over. “No! No! No! No!” It’s not a signal to quit. It’s a demand for it to never end. Her ebony slave is beyond thought, lost in lust. She’s there. It’s happening.
“I'm Coming.” ‘Oh, Help Me. Even Nat wasn’t like this’. “Oh, Faster, Do Me Harder!”
She waited all of her life for this. She’s tired and a little sore but wants it to last forever. Her husband, she was sure showing him. When she was a teen-aged girl, she had heard of orgasms but also that ‘nice girls’ didn’t experience that. She had heard the slave girl’s talk and the thrills they experienced. She found out for herself—did the forbidden with the young slave Nat. He was good; she used him plenty while going through her ‘teen years’. White boys would take her out, never dreaming the violations and forbidden liaisons she had allowed. If those boys only knew that what she forbade them she gave freely to her own young slave boy.
****
now available in paperback or eBook
More excerpts from “A
tale of Forbidden Love”
THE RAILROAD MAN’S
WIFE
(Circa, 1950’s)
She ushers him inside. “So’s people won’t talk,” she explained. ‘Maybe they wouldn’t talk, but she sure did,’ he recalled, admiring the way she put him at ease, made it all seem so natural, them sitting and her talking like this.
“I used to see you go by here to school last year. Now you’re working?” she questioned.
“I quit school now because my Mama is getting to old to hold down a full job and needs me to earn money so I work at the lumber yard,” he answers.
“I’ll bet you are really busy, don’t even have time to date?”
I really haven’t had much time lately. I don’t know any girls right now.
“Did you used to date girls when you were in school?”
No, not really. The only girls I ever hardly talked to at all are my sisters and my Mama.’
“You ever know a girl real well, you know, really well?” she asks, as her knees part noticeably.
He gasps at the expose’. Sitting directly across from him, her dress has slipped up over her knees, her legs are parted nicely, and there’s nothing more on underneath than the day she was born. There’s her hairy bush, that thin white cotton dress, the outline of her nipples and breast showing, only the flimsiest of cloth separating this white woman from him.
‘He is so black, youthful and awkward’ she thinks, amused and maybe a little sympathetic at his shy demeanor. His words slur in his obsessed confusion. She delights in his rapture and youthful yearning.
‘If colored people blush, I’ve sure got him doing that now. He’s pretending not to notice what I’m showing him but he wants to see me so bad he can’t stand it. Look at that bulge in his pants. Bet he’d fly out of that chair if I grabbed hold of his big one.’
“Did you ever have a white woman?”
No ma’am!
“Did you ever have a colored girl?”
No ma’am! I mean, yes!
“You don’t need to be afraid of me, which is it? Did you or didn’t you?”
I don’t want you to think I lie. I also don’t want you to think I be wrong. It was my half sister, Abby. She had lots of men before me, but she was going away. She wanted to do something real special, be my first woman. She and I did it once, the last day before she went to Chicago. She said I was good--real big, the best she ever had.
“I’ll bet you really are good--Would be good in bed just like your sister said. Show me your thing. You’ve been looking at mine. You like what you see, don’t you?”
Yes ma’am! It’s not that. I don’t think you should see it. My Mama said I’d get in all kinds of trouble if I did anything bad with a white woman.
She pouts,
“You don’t like me. You don’t find me pretty enough, not lovely like your sister. You probably shouldn’t have done her, but you did anyway. Now you sit here talking with me, tell me how big your cock is and won’t even show me. You’ve never seen a white woman naked before me and I’ve never seen a black man. I’ve shown you me and you won’t let me see you,”
Okay, I’ll let you see. We shouldn’t do anything, though. I have to tell you, it’s not in its normal size. I’m all excited now and this is what happens when I find someone it wants.
He fumbles with his fly. She has him lower his pants down around his ankles. He is a more than a little embarrassed at her rapture. His sister was fascinated by his erection but this white woman is just plain ‘hypnotized’ by his size and blackness.
Never has a phallus looked so beautiful, never has she wanted someone more. Her legs are far apart now. Her hands just ache to touch herself, but,
‘Wouldn’t it be better if it was him touching me? —Instead of me doing it?’
‘My
husband thinks I’m too big for him, all stretched out of shape. I just
wish he could see what I’m going to do now. It’s not that my pussy
is too big. It’s just I haven’t found the right man to fill me up.
He was probably right about me needing one of those big black ones. I
mustn’t go too fast though. I sure wouldn’t want to scare him away
now, this poor frightened young man. Just wait till he experiences what I have
for him.’
“You’ve never been kissed by a white woman have you, Abe? -- A real woman kiss?—on the lips? I thought not. Would it be all right if we did that?”
She moves slowly towards him, he sitting on that hard backed chair with his absurdly large black thing. She thinks of her husband again, how little he compares, how much she’s going to get even with him for treating her so. She straddles the boy’s lap. She almost giggles at how his erectness is pressed between the two of them.
‘I know the only real place to put that thing to get it out of our way,’ she thinks, erotically. ‘It’ll be there, real soon.’
She kisses him, gently at first, and then gradually intensifying till mouths are totally meshed, tongues entwined, and bodies are wrapped together. It was awkward at first, kissing a black man. Now it is totally natural and wickedly exciting. She’s unbuttoning his shirt and whispers to him breathlessly.
“Unbutton my dress.”
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