My New Black Boyfriend (Parts 1-4) - Sex Stories

My New Black Boyfriend (Parts 1-4)

... I get more into all of the great raunchy nasty sex I've been having, I need to take a short detour into the past and let you know that I've been lying. To many folks, to myself, to my readers. It's not a big lie, just a little white one. The truth is, when I released my last book, Kate In Spades, I was going through a severe funk. Jessica moving away hit me really hard. I'd grown deeply intimate with her in a way that I don't even know how to label. It was certainly not a traditional mother and daughter relationship. Her leaving left a big hole in me. The other thing was Clarence. Although we were getting along just fine, I was harboring some resentment towards Anne and the attention she was getting. Combined with a very flat, gray life with my husband and you had a pretty unhappy woman. There were times that were happy, to be sure. Times that were worth writing about – and I did. On a day to day basis, things were mostly fine. But all of those little problems were gnawing at my gut. I found myself drinking more, eating more, having less sex. My time with Clarence slipped to once a week. I wasn't writing much. There were fewer play parties and almost no new partners. Then I met Ramell. From the start things were different with him. I didn't meet him through Clarence or at a play party. I met him in my front yard. Right away that posed problems. None of my lovers outside of Clarence know where I live. After everything that had happened with Wes, I didn't like men knowing ...

... where I lived and more importantly, where my husband lived. It was hot that day in May, brutally hot. Hot in a way that it can only get in Louisiana. I'd been doing some chores around the house. I was in nothing but ratty shorts and beat up old tank top and flip flops. I hadn't even showered yet. My neighbors a few doors down were having a party in their backyard. There were a couple of dozen people back there having a good time. It wasn't a problem until I heard someone in my yard. When I came out to see what was going on, it turned out to be a dog. He was a big pitbull and yelped when I saw him because of how close to the front door he was. Then Ramell was there, pulling him back by the collar. “Sorry about that. He don't bite. He just likes to get into stuff.” He was about the same age as my son, his early 20s. He was dark and smooth and shirtless. His backwards Saint's hat hid a tight, short haircut and his thin goatee surrounded a brilliant white smile. The dog got free from Ramell and in a fit of excitement, both paws landed right on my tits and I stumbled back and yelped again. “Oh shit. Lady, I am so sorry. Woody! Get over here!” He yanked the dog back, almost a little too roughly. “It's okay, just surprised me is all.” I brushed the muddy prints off of my tank top and I realized as I did that you could see my nipples through the thin fabric. I began to blush. When I looked up, I realized he was staring too. Then our eyes met for just a second. “Sorry bout that. We'll get ...