It was a long drive back and, at first, it was uneventful. Only as we drew close to home did problems develop. Those problems were to bring us down quickly from the high we had felt only shortly before.
As our fatigue began to really bit us, we grew more irritable. Mike honked his horn at other drivers, often without any reason. Susan and I constantly bothered him by asking when we would get home. By the time we were an hour from home, we were all at each other's throats, especially Mike and I.
"Maybe I should drop you off that the house and look for another place to live," Mike said nastily.
"What brought about that brilliant suggestion?" I asked.
"All weekend, I was like someone extra, someone who just happened to be there, but who you didn't really need," Mike said. "You both got more excited with each other than you did with me," he added.
"Oh, Mike. That's not true," I said. "I'd rather be with you than anyone."
"You're full of shit!" he yelled. "You'd rather be with Susan, let's face it."
Susan tried to make peace. "Come on, Mike and Lori. Please."
We ignored her and kept squabbling.
"Please stop arguing," Susan said pleadingly.
Then she decided to try another approach. She was sitting between Mike and I. She leaned over close to Mike and kissed him on the cheek. Then she rested her head on his shoulder. I'm sure her intentions were good. She merely wanted to calm him down. He had been the aggressor for most of the argument. Nevertheless, I lost my temper completely. Now I was the jealous one.
"Why don't you two drop me off somewhere," I said. "You don't seem to need me." Mike hadn't shown any real preference for Susan before, but my tired mind imagined that he had. My jealousy was unjustified but real.
Mike decided to make me angrier. "Where do you want to go?" he asked. I knew he wouldn't do it, but I got madder anyhow.
"Drop me at Martha's. Or Karen's!" I shouted. I knew that would make him madder.
"You fucking dyke!" he yelled back. "You'll be happy with your head buried in some Goddamn furry snatch."
Susan still tried to play peacemaker. She moved away from Mike and moved closer to me. She patted me on the shoulder, but I moved away.
"Lori, don't be jealous of me," she said softly. "I love you both. If you keep fighting over me, I'll have to leave. I can't stand being around jealousy."
That stopped us cold. Mike and I couldn't bear the thought of losing Susan at this point. Our anger disappeared and was replaced by an uneasy fear.
We were silent for the rest of the trip. No one seemed angry and we didn't talk at all about jealousy. Yet a pall hung over us. We all knew that the argument would flare up again, if not as wildly as tonight, but still bitterly enough to make Susan uncomfortable and to endanger our triangle.
The trip had ended with our argument over, each of us trying to be cordial. None of us had forgotten the harsh words, the hurt they had brought, the insecurity, the doubt. The pain was there. Unfortunately, while the pain remained, Mike and I didn't long remember Susan's warning.
The day after we had returned from the beach, Susan tested us to see if we had really listened to her.
"I'd like to go to one of those parties you told me about," she said.
We were both upset at the thought of sharing our new-found prize with our friends. We would have taken her to one of the parties eventually, but her suggestion had come so closely on the heels of our first three-way experience with her that we weren't prepared to share her at all.
Surprised by her suggestion, I lost my cool. "Aren't you satisfied with us?" I asked, hurt in my voice.
"Yeah, what's wrong with us?" Mike asked.
We were both too obtuse to realize that our jealousy would drive her away from us. Sharing her wouldn't have made her like us any less, but denying her the experience because of our jealousy would make her hate us. And it did.
"Nothing's wrong with you two," she told us, exasperation in her voice. "The parties sound like fun. I'd like to go."
"What's the rush?" Mike asked.
"I'm just in the mood, that's all," she answered. "Why are you so damn jealous? You and Mike go the parties and it hasn't seemed to have hurt your relationship at all."
Susan had put me on the spot. I couldn't admit that the parties, at least lately, had hurt my relationship with Mike. I couldn't tell her that the parties had made me enjoy Mike less. I pretty much had to agree now that she should go to the party.
"All right, Susan," I grudgingly conceded. "There's a party the night after next. You're welcome to go with us."
Susan smiled, but it was an uneasy smile. I knew our resistance and our jealousy had annoyed her. I didn't realize until we got to the party exactly how much it had annoyed her. Before she even went to the party, she had decided to leave us, but to teach us a terrible lesson, one we had failed to learn earlier, before she left.
For the two days before the party, there was an uneasy quiet around the house. Mike and I both felt envious, jealous of those who would get to ravish Susan's lovely young body at the party. We felt she should have been ours alone to enjoy. After all, we had found her. I had converted her to the joys of bisexuality.
The night of the party, our jealousy almost overcame our reluctance to start an argument with Susan. Mike and I were waiting in the living room while Susan finished getting dressed for the party. We talked calmly to each other while we waited, but we were both nervous and uncomfortable.
Suddenly, Mike's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ," he said, looking up at the doorway as he spoke.
Susan stood there, dressed to kill. She was really ready to party. She wore a clinging gown that hugged every curvy inch of her ripe young body. I could see her nipples outlined clearly against the fabric. I could even see the outline of her cunt mount and its hairy shrubbery pushing up against the tight dress.
The dress was cut so low in front that it barely covered those large nipples of hers. Her big tits hung out of the dress, almost daring someone to bury his or her head in that incredible cleavage. In contrast to her provocative outfit, she smiled that innocent, little-girl smile, the one that had almost fooled us when she had come to live with us. She was a beautiful sight, an alluring sight, and I knew that there was no way to keep our friends from stampeding in their rush to make her.
"You really went all out," Mike said, his voice harsh, his tone bitter.
"I wanted to look nice, of course," Susan said, looking hurt and a little surprised. "Don't you like my dress?" she asked.
"Sure. Everyone else will like it too. You can bet on that," Mike said.
"What's wrong with that?" Susan asked.
"Nothing," Mike said, but his expression showed the anger he felt. Something was wrong, at least to Mike and me, and it was obvious what was wrong. We were both jealous, just the emotion that we could least afford to display.
"Oh, shit. You two are getting to be a pain in the ass," Susan said angrily. "Well, let's go."
We all got in the car and drove to Cynthia and Jimmy's house. They were having the party, the first one we had attended at their house. The black couple had only recently joined our group.
The ride over was uncomfortable. None of us spoke. We all knew something bad was going to happen, but none of us knew precisely what.
Only as we approached Jimmy and Cynthia's house did I begin to think more positively about the party and wonder what it would be like for Mike and me. We had never been to a black person's house before, for a wild party or for any other occasion. I didn't know what to expect.
As we pulled up to their house, I noticed that the house wasn't much different from ours, at least on the outside. It was a little smaller, perhaps, but still fairly large, with a nice lawn and quite a few trees. It was in a mixed neighborhood and looked pretty much like the other houses around it.
Cynthia and Jimmy greeted us at the door. "Hey, folks. Let's not jive out here," Jimmy said as he ushered us inside. Then his eyes lit on Susan.
"What have we here?" he said. He walked around us and took Susan by the arm.
"I'm Susan Knight," she said quietly. "I'm living with Lori and Mike," she told him.
"Well, well, well. Nice to have you with us," Jimmy said, his eyes roaming over her body as he spoke. "Come right in and join the fun."
I looked over at Cynthia. Her eyes were flashing with anger. Just like us, that beautiful black woman felt threatened by Susan. Susan was so incredibly beautiful, teen-age sexuality personified, that it would have been a rare person who didn't feel threatened by her mere presence. Until Susan's arrival, jealousy had little place at our parties, but her magnetic sexuality had taken care of that.
I had been afraid everyone would rush at Susan in their anxiety to be the first to have her, but our party crowd was too cool for that. They noticed her, of course, and her presence affected them. Everyone stared at her openly. There was a slight hush at first, then the murmurs of conversation seemed more excited than before, but there was no stampede.
Jimmy stayed close to Susan. Obviously, he had picked her out for himself. He kept one arm around her shoulders while he guided her around the room to introduce her to all the guests.
For a few minutes, I watched Susan and Jimmy, jealousy burning within me. Then I decided to try to enjoy myself the best I could. I looked around at their house and at the crowd, trying to figure out what sort of evening it would be.
The house surprised me. Jimmy and Cynthia didn't seem militant. Sexually, they seemed to enjoy fucking and sucking with white people.
There had been some cruelty in the way Jimmy had tormented Karen while fucking her a few weeks before. At the last party we had attended, for no reason, Cynthia called me a bitch while we were in the middle of eating each other's cunts. They had hinted at some resentment of whites, but it had all been vague, indistinct, only implicitly there, hinted at, but not made explicit.
Their house made me wonder how they really felt. On the walls of their living room were pictures of the most militant of the black leaders. On their bookshelves were all the volumes that made up the library of black revolution. It was all there, books about separatism, oppression, riot, revolution. Yet these two blacks obviously enjoyed getting it on with white men and women. I couldn't figure it out, but somehow their militancy made them all the more attractive and, in Jimmy's case, at least, all the more of a threat. If he was hostile to whites, he would think nothing of making us suffer. The obvious way to make Mike and me suffer was to interfere with our relationship with Susan. I shivered and felt a sense of foreboding, of doom.
Jimmy had begun to undress Susan and everyone had crowded in close to watch. Slowly, ever so slowly, he unzipped her dress. It was as if he were emphasizing to the rest of us that he was in control, that this prize was his and that everyone else could see her only when he was ready for them to see her. He could have told her to strip. Or he could have ripped her clothes off. It was significant, I thought, that he undressed her leisurely himself.
When he had finally unzipped Susan's dress, Jimmy reached one hand inside and caressed her big tits. Again, he was demonstrating his mastery. Everyone expected him to pull her dress down, to show her naked body to us, but he showed us all that he could and would do as he pleased.
Susan moaned softly and tried to move her body against him. He stepped back slightly and continued to rub her tits. Then he moved closer to her, unzipped his fly, and took out his ebony prick. Susan looked down at his erect dong and her tongue played suggestively across her lips. Then she grabbed his rod with both hands and began to rub it, softly at first, then more vigorously.
We all watched, transfixed and envious, although I'm sure Mike and I were more envious than anyone else there because we felt that Susan was rightly ours. We didn't realize that our possessiveness was the catalyst that had changed her feelings about us, that had sent her to others.
Jimmy was ready to undress her completely now. He pulled her dress off her shoulders. He kissed each shoulder lightly, then pulled the dress down to her waist, letting her tits loose from the confines of her dress. Most men would have been on them immediately, feeling them, kissing them, rubbing their cheeks against the smooth flesh of her cleavage, but Jimmy was different. He had too much control, too much sense of drama for that, and probably, too much of a need to torture the rest of us, to leave us standing there waiting in an agony of expectation to see what he would do next.
He stared at her tits while she continued to rub his big black cock. She must have expected him to be on them already because she opened her eyes. She looked at him standing motionless in front of her, staring at her boobs. Her nipples got hard and erect from the sight of him staring at her so coolly and from the feel of his erect prick in her hands. He hadn't even touched her nipples, but they poked out like little fingertips from her ripe jugs.
Mike and I watched silently, our frustration and jealousy burning inside us. Jimmy was torturing us, making us suffer, and he was enjoying it. Susan's acquiescence increased our pain.
He proceeded in his slow disrobing of Susan. He pulled her dress down to her hips, then lower and lower, until her beaver came into view, first the top of her bush, the first dark, curly hairs, then the full thicket.
Now the dress was below her naked cunt. Just like the little slut not to wear panties, I thought to myself. I missed the irony of it. I hadn't worn anything at all under my coat at one party. And I hadn't worn panties when Martha had visited me.
Susan continued to rub on Jimmy's dark, menacing rod. His cock was long enough and thick enough to keep both her hands busy. Her white fingers contrasted sharply with the black flesh of his tool.
Jimmy pulled her dress down to her knees. "Take it all the way off," he commanded.
Susan did as he ordered. She was naked now, totally, alluringly, breathtakingly naked. Every eye in the room was on her. She didn't seem to mind the attention. What had happened to the shy innocence she had seemed to possess when she had first become a member of our household? From the first, her innocence had a way of disappearing completely when it suited her. Was it the result of inexperience as I had first thought, or was it the consequence of deliberate artifice as I had occasionally suspected?
Jimmy stepped away from her, leaving her hands grasping for his cock. Earlier, as everyone stared at her, Susan must have felt the master of her fate. Jimmy's behavior was calculated to destroy that illusion. He had to show her, and everyone else present, that he was master. He wanted to punish us for the hurt white men had inflicted on blacks throughout American history. Hence, he left her grabbing for his cock and getting only empty air. Her frustration emphasized his superiority.
Jimmy stepped out of his clothing quickly, gracefully. His glistening, muscular black body was now naked. I wondered what would happen next.
"Get down on your knees and suck my cock," Jimmy ordered. His voice indicated that it had been a command, not a suggestion.
Susan looked at him in surprise. No one had ever spoken to her that way. I think her first instinct at that point was to disobey him, but her desire to punish Mike and me and to teach us a lesson, along with her desire to devour some black meat, compensated for her resentment at being ordered about like a slave.
"Hurry up, you honky cunt!" Jimmy yelled at her. "Don't you like dark meat?" he asked.
Susan dropped to her knees. Then she leaned forward and took Jimmy's cock between her lips. She moved too slowly for Jimmy. He rammed his prick into her mouth as far as it would go. Susan gagged and tried to spit his meat out, but Jimmy grabbed the back of her head and held her mouth in position, his cock still reaching into her throat as deeply as before.
Susan had no choice but to relax and do the best she could. Her jaw muscles had clenched tightly as she sought to reject the prick that had invaded her mouth so roughly, but they unclenched and Jimmy's cock slid more easily between her lips and even more deeply into her throat.
Susan had seen the movie where the star gobbles up cock after huge cock. She knew that it was possible to accept an enormous tool in one's mouth and throat if one relaxes. Only that knowledge, I'm sure, saved her from panic, that and the implication in Jimmy's tone of voice that he would beat her if she disobeyed and tried to spit out the big cock that was slamming into her throat.
Jimmy began to rock back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. Jimmy knew how to use threats to compel obedience. He had forced Susan to obey him, terrified her into doing exactly what he asked, yet he had never raised a fist to her, had not done more than hint with the vague menace in his voice that he must be obeyed.
Susan seemed to be enjoying it now and that worried and surprised me, but then I looked around and almost everyone at the party seemed to be enjoying it, too, except Mike and me, of course. Most of the people had undressed and I saw hard cocks and wet cunts all around me. Something perverse in white America's mentality made most of the people there, including Susan, enjoy this humiliation. I should have realized this before when I had seen Jimmy tormenting Karen and everyone, including me, so turned on by the sight. I probably would have been as aroused tonight as I had been then, or even more, since this humiliation was much more complete, if it hadn't been Susan out there with Jimmy.
He kept mouth-fucking her, giving her that huge black dong without mercy. She did her best, sucking his rod as it rammed in, licking it as it slid out. It didn't take Jimmy long to come. He wasn't interested in demonstrating his self-control now, only his mastery of Susan, not of himself.
Jimmy's body tensed and he lurched forward. His cock swelled slightly. I saw Susan's eyes widen, as if she couldn't believe what he was doing to her. She tried to pull her mouth away from his dick, but he held her head tightly, in the same way he had earlier. She couldn't move her head at all.
Jimmy's sticky spunk poured into her throat. Susan choked on his load as it filled her throat, but Jimmy didn't release his grip on her head. He forced her to stay where she was. She gagged, sputtered, begin to turn red, but still he kept her head in place.
Mike took a step forward as if he intended to free Susan from Jimmy, but, just then, Jimmy released her head, probably not because of Mike, but because Susan had taken as much as she could. Her face was bright red, and anyone could tell that she needed air.
Susan took her mouth off Jimmy's cock. She coughed and spit out a mouthful of jizz, then she gulped in huge amounts of air. Within a few seconds, her face had lost its redness and her normal color had returned. She still breathed heavily, however, and she looked exhausted as she crouched on the floor.
I expected her to get to her feet and walk away from Jimmy or at least to say something nasty to him. Instead, Susan looked up at him and smiled.
I felt sick inside. I marveled both at the perversity of white people around blacks and at her desire to hurt Mike and me. She had to know that her humiliation was ours, too, and that jealousy must be consuming us by now. Yet she not only didn't try to get away, she also looked as if she wanted more.
"Stay right where you are, white girl," Jimmy said to her.
I expected someone in the crowd to come forward to help her. I looked at Mike beseechingly, but he had stepped back with the rest of the crowd. Susan's smile had discouraged Mike and anyone else who might have wanted to help her. She was in for some trouble, but, if she didn't mind, no one else minded.
Jimmy crouched behind her. Then he pulled her legs apart slightly. He moved forward, his knees on the ground between her spread legs, his hands around her thighs, pulling her to him.
I knew that he was going to fuck her from behind and I hoped that he planned a rear-entry into her cunt. I was pretty sure, however, that he planned to fuck her up the ass and the thought frightened me. Even my finger had been a tight fit in that small shitter. At the beach, Mike and I had been very reluctant for Mike to try to screw her in the ass. Unfortunately, Jimmy wasn't as cautious. He was going to slam his big black cock into her tiny asshole and I was positive he wouldn't try to do it gradually.
I was right. Jimmy raised his hands up and spread the cheeks of Susan's butt. He looked at the tiny pucker of her asshole and chuckled wickedly. Then he lurched forward and rammed his cock in.