A BBC for Elise

It has been almost exactly twenty years since my story
began, and I hardly know how to tell it. It is not a
source of pride for me. It is more a source of shame,
something I cannot tell my friends and family about.
Yet, these are probably the most exciting events of my
life, and they will mean the end of my marriage because
I will not be able to keep them secret much longer. I
regret what I did those months ago and I have thought
of little else since then.

Maybe that is why I feel compelled to write my story
down and tell it to some strangers who share my
mysterious obsession. I suppose it is ironic that I
learned of this website and others like it from my
sister, when they may have ruined her marriage. My
brother-in-law was lax about cleaning his browser
history and my sister decided to snoop while he was at
work and she found several links to sites with pictures
and stories about interracial sex. Now, she and her
husband are separated and I am writing my story to post
on those same sites.

In 1986, I was a junior in a rural high school. I was
lucky enough to be shapely and pretty and popular and
to have my choice of boys. This was in the fall, at the
beginning of the school year and it was my second year
on the pompon squad. I had just started dating Don, a
running back on the football team who was a senior.

I had kissed a couple of boys and let one play with my
breasts, but I was still a virgin, which was common for
a sixteen-year-old girl in those days. Don was a real
cutie, though, and we had had eyes for each other for a
couple of years before we got together. Like all young
girls, I was feeling my sexuality but I did not want
the wrong boy to be my first. I thought Don might be
the one, if he was willing to take things slowly.

Our school was small. There were only about 300
students and there was only one black family in the
district. They lived in the same small town as my and
Don’s families. James, the oldest boy, was a year ahead
of me, in Don’s class and his sister was a year behind
me. James was a starting linebacker and running back on
the football team, alongside Don. I always felt a
little sorry for James because there weren’t any black
girls for him to date and no self-respecting white girl
in my town would date him.

He was nice enough, but he often seemed a little aloof
and I think he resented us for the isolation he must
have felt. Even though none of us dated him, he was the
subject of some whispered conversation among the girls.
We wondered if the stories about black men’s penises
were true, of course, and he was the only black man
around to speculate about.

Homecoming was coming up and Don was my date. We had
been together long enough that Don had played with my
ass and sucked by breasts a few times, but even though
it was painfully obvious that he was hard when we made
out, I had not touched his penis or let him finger me.
It seemed time to take the next step and homecoming day
seemed like the perfect time.

If things went well, I would let Don finger my pussy
and treat him to a handjob. There was a parade through
our little town in the morning and Don and I went back
to my house after school let out for the afternoon. My
parents were at work and we would have a few precious
hours without worries of being disturbed. We were in my
bed almost as soon as we walked in the door and Don
seemed to sense that the time was right to take me
farther.

Our shirts were off and were lying together in our
jeans. Don was rubbing my breasts and feeling my body
and he finally slipped his hand between my legs. “Is it
okay?” he asked. I nodded and he kissed me while he
rubbed my pussy. I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned
his jeans and slipped my hand into his pants to get my
first handful of penis. I took it out and looked at it
and rubbed it with both hands. I hoped he would take it
as a signal that he could get into my pants too.