12-01-2022, 12:43 PM
White teacher learns how to please her man.....
On The Drive North
Dee looked at her fingers as they rested on the steering wheel. On one hand were the rings put there by David - on the other was the eternity ring given to her by Shaka. They symbolised the two sides of her life - two very different sides that could never be allowed to come into contact. Even as she thought that she realised that it was a lie, that she was fooling herself.
This very vehicle, her white Honda Odyssey minivan, proved that. It had been the almost archetypal symbol of her status as a soccer mom, the respectable back-bone of suburban America. But it wasn't any more - at least for her. Even when the girls and Davey were in the back she still couldn't think of the Odyssey that way any more. It had been the place where her Black lover had first made love to her, had first fucked her. Where he had first proved all the old stories true - had proved his superiority in pleasing a woman. Every time she sat behind the wheel she could remember him on her and in her - could remember the look in his eyes when he had filled her with his potent African seed for the first time.
Sometimes she considered the significance of that. Shaka generally made the arrangements in their relationship. That just seemed natural. One thing that frustrated her about her husband was his failure to sometimes take charge when he needed to, in bed and outside of it. How he always stood back and left her to bear the weight of decision and responsibility. There was no question of that with Shaka. Shaka was in charge - but that didn't mean he was brutal or dictatorial. He just knew what was best for them. She wondered about his planning. How he had insisted she come in the Odyssey that first time, how he had given her the ring, how he had made that other vital decision. Those and a hundred smaller little things. All of which had taken her closer and closer to him - had made it inconceivable that she would ever give him up now. Was that just the way it was? Or was he ... manipulating her? She had wondered that before.
On this occasion, as on every previous one, she chose not to worry about the answer to that question too much. She very deliberately chose not to care. Shaka gave her what she needed and he had never promised to be her soul-mate. He had a wife who Dee had never met but who she had seen pictures of. Linda was beautiful - the face of one of those models that made millions strutting up and down the runway. Long blonde hair, high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes and an engagingly brilliant smile. In the same picture had been her children with Shaka - or she assumed with Shaka. Two boys and a little girl only a couple of years younger than her own. She'd seen Shaka look at that picture when he'd shown it to her. Seen the look in his eyes. He wouldn't be giving that family up any more than she was ready to give up hers.
Shaka's children were beautiful, one boy just a little darker in skin tone than the other. The little girl was coffee-skinned but still obviously her mom's little girl. It was indefinable but you'd never doubt the relationship there. Dee had thought about that picture a lot since. Once, and it had shamed her, she had thought about her own little Maddie. How in 12 years, when she was all grown up, she might perhaps meet Shaka's eldest, Jamal, and maybe who knew what might happen. She'd had to stifle that thought. Moms didn't think that way about their little girls. Then she'd realised she still had a long way to go yet. Moms and Grand-moms thought that way a lot - not meaning anything, not seriously, just pondering how nice it would be in the future if something were to work out. Why had she reacted so strongly? Was it the idea of one of her daughters in the future dating a Black man? Was it the idea of her grand-children looking like Shaka's children in the photograph? She wanted to deny it but she had been brought up in the United States, in one of the old Confederate States. The issue was always there - even if you tried not to be led by it.
Anyway, some things were for certain. Shaka wouldn't be abandoning that beautiful family and marrying her. If he'd been the sort of man to do that then Dee still thought she was strong enough to have denied him. Instead, just as Shaka had always made plain, she had become one of his women, one of his stable. Once certain arrangements were in place he didn't expect her to be faithful to him and he sure as shit wouldn't be exclusive to her. His mark, the gaudy hoops already hanging from her ears, would be her protection in the jungle of the Capital. Shaka had almost presented it as a trade-off. If she was going on the pill then she'd become available for some, perhaps all, of the many Black men who had shown real interest in her over the last few weeks. The unspoken comment still sounded loud in her ears. Up to now he'd kept her exclusive because up to now she'd been fertile - he hadn't wanted to risk another man getting her pregnant. She sensed he had been making something else clear too. If, or when, she got pregnant with a Black man's baby then he was going to make sure that baby was his.
That was the thing about a man like Shaka. Sometimes he didn't need to say it. He seemed to know what she was thinking - he seemed happy that she was clever enough to understand where he was coming from. She understood that way she could never be 100% sure that he really was leading her. It could still just be her own desires, her own needs, expressing themselves via him. Either way she and Shaka would find themselves where they wanted and needed to be. Shaka might not have too many degrees and doctorates but he was a seriously smart man.
On The Job Training
The first problem, almost inevitably, had been David. Going to the Capital to spend Saturday with Shaka had been one thing. From now on she was going to need more time. Most importantly she was going to need Saturday nights. To get herself prepared, to go out to the clubs, to meet new Black men and... Well, anyway, there was no way she could be home before Sunday Morning. David was not going to like that - not that it would really make much difference for him. The children would be asleep when she was... She felt guilt at the thought - was suddenly pleased that Shaka was there to take charge as usual.
He had just reached for her bag and produced her phone. "Ring the fool and tell him now. Say this is a different college administration up here - say you got to do one day a week of on-the-job training. What's it they call it - professional development."
'The fool' was Shaka's little pet name for her husband. She'd felt guilty about that too - at first. After a while guilt seemed to sort of wear off about that and a lot of other things. What had seemed outrageous became the new normal. Pretty soon it seemed to be just the natural way of things. Like the fact that she would lie to her husband, like the fact she hadn't told him about the other very important decision she had made.
***
It had been earlier that week. As a fully qualified and experienced teacher with excellent references she hadn't had trouble finding work back here. The short notice of her move meant she'd been working cover for the time being - at two very nice suburban colleges.
The need for a more permanent position wasn't urgent and in fact one of the colleges where she was working had suggested that one would arise there soon. So there was no need for hurry or panic but...
She had received three more letters of invitation from that organisation running colleges in the Capital. What was it called again? That's right - the Taylor Foundation. She had been specifically approached regarding Tubman High, one of the three new colleges recently opened by the Foundation. The post offered would pretty much suit her to a tee and the money was pretty good. She just wished she knew more about the situation there.
She remembered that google hadn't helped much regarding the Foundation but she also knew that she now had some much better sources of information, Sources closer to the ground so to speak.
It turned out Georgia was college Administrator at DuBois High, one of the other new colleges. However, Dee gave most weight in her decision to Shaka - as almost seemed natural now.
"Mr Taylor is good people. Using your skills to help the children down there, children that need really good teachers, I'd approve of that."
Had that made up Dee's mind for her? Or was it the other thing Georgia had said? The Foundation was firm in requiring the highest standards of work from its staff. However, when off duty and off premises, it had a policy of allowing its staff to live their own lives.
That fact might come in very handy. You never knew what the future might bring.
So, for all of those reasons, Dee had found herself being shown around Tubman High by its Principal, Marcus Jones. The college was new and well-equipped. She'd taught in much less adequate conditions. There was, however, one big difference to every other college she had attended or taught in. The pupils were overwhelmingly African-American, just as the area itself was. This was an inner-city college for all that it was freshly-painted and well-equipped. The students and their parents would clearly have a higher percentage of 'difficult cases' than in the leafier suburbs.
Mr Jones had not been slow to admit that fact. In fact he had almost made it a selling point. "This will be a challenging position for you. Our student body has often made a slow start - in some cases a hard start. We need top quality teaching staff to help them get back up to speed, to convince them that what they are doing here really counts. In your own subjects they need to know where they have come from but also to be proud of their and my community's contribution to this country. They need to know how to avoid the pit-falls that claim so many in neighborhoods like this. I'll be frank - the old city colleges couldn't hack it. They were beaten, defeated. We are a fresh start and early signs are encouraging. But we need our troops - our top-quality teachers. To be blunt - we need YOU. Right here, right now. You'll be working hard - don't doubt it - but the rewards and the satisfaction will more than make up for it. You will join us won't you."
Right there and right then he had held out his hand to her.
Dee hadn't hesitated. She knew what she needed to do. She shook his hand.
***
It had been real easy to be swayed by his little speech. Real easy to reach out and take his big strong hand in hers. To see his and her hands joined together as a sort of tiny step forward. Black and white united in seeking a better future for the youngsters growing up around here. She wasn't naive. This was a tough area and the children would never have it easy. But even if you only helped a few - the start would have been made. The ripples would spread, the next generation would have it that little bit better, that little bit easier. It seemed important, it WAS something important that she could do.
...but there was always David. She'd kept her decision secret from him for three long days. He still thought she was considering that half-offer in Alexandria. He didn't know about her decision to teach at Tubman High and he most certainly didn't suspect what reasons lay behind it.
She took the phone from Shaka and then took a deep breath. This might be a little sticky. She felt nervous. Shaka moved over and stood behind her - wrapped her gently in his big strong arms. She felt the strength in him - made the connection.
The phone rang five times and then he answered.
"Hi honey - I've got some great news."
"Oh yes - that's great." He sounded like he was only half-listening. She could hear something in the background, the TV probably. Sport or news or whatever - apparently too important to mute for a phone call from her.
She felt Shaka's warm mouth nuzzle into the nape of her neck. Felt the bristles of his chin against the delicate pale skin of his neck. She stifled a giggle. She signalled to Shaka to lay off - this was important. Needless to say Shaka responded by licking her neck. Sometimes he could be a real a-hole but in the nicest way. Just like her husband had been once - long years ago when they had first got together.
She pushed on - her nerves forgotten courtesy of Shaka's distraction. "Yes honey - I've been offered an excellent permanent position at Tubman High..."
"Uh-huh, that's great."
Was he even listening! 'Tubman High' clearly meant nothing to him - though she'd left one of the brochures out for him to take a look at if he been interested. Clearly he hadn't bothered.
She felt indignation boiling within her. Then she felt Shaka's hands move up her body a little and his fingers begin to tease her nipples to prominence under her blouse. Oh the fucker! She had to get this over with. She felt a tongue languidly lick it's way from her neck up to her right ear. She'd better get this call over with before he started to explore beneath her skirt!
"Yes - remember the name, Tubman High. Well we're under a different jurisdiction so I will be attending special familiarisation sessions after my current Saturday course. They are arranging accommodation..."
"Hey, hey - what's that - what do you mean..." Oh - that seemed to have woken him up. However, a dark hand had stolen down to her skirt and was edging the material up her thigh. She didn't have time to argue just now so she ploughed on over the squeaks coming from her phone.
"...so I'll be staying overnight on Saturdays but I'll be home on Sunday morning ready for church. Anyway we'll have to talk about that later I have to go now. Oh!"
The last exclamation came as she felt strong white teeth nip her ear lobe - mere moments before she felt a Black finger at her clit. She just kept composure enough to end the connection to her husband.
"What am I going to do with you..." you playfully chided as her Black lover continued to tease her body with his skilled mouth and fingers.
She felt his warm breath in her ear as he whispered, "More to the point - what am I going to do with YOU. Just hearing that fool told me I had to keep letting you remember who your real man is. You remembering that?"
His fingers were still working on her - teasing her without mercy. She was aware of his big body behind her - of the bulge pressing into her back. "Always Shaka - always."
"Yeah, that's a good little teacher-girl. Now we'd best get you ready for your first session of on-the-job training."
His big hand smacked her ass playfully and she gave a little yelp of surprise.
***
The quality of any training is dependant upon the tutors giving it. Dee was fortunate in having two of the best. Georgia she had come to know very well already. She met Roni for the first time that evening and Roni was a bit of an eye-opener.
It didn't matter where Georgia and Dee went in the cities no-one would ever doubt that they had come from the prosperous white suburbs. It was a 'selling point' in fact. Their mere presence in many a location would tell the local male population just exactly what they were after. A lot of big Black cocks got very hard at just the idea of classy white MILFs like them coming to the hood. Georgia was well aware of that fact and revelled in it. Dee was about to enjoy finding out the not-so-little benefits of that situation too.
Roni was very different, born and bred in the projects. Mocha-coloured skin with an unruly afro of peroxide-blonde hair. Her skin was smooth but her eyes were wary, checking out everything around her for potential or danger. It didn't take long for Dee to sense that Roni was at least a part-time professional in these matters.
That hadn't been her first shock. That had been when Georgia greeted Roni with a long tender kiss on the lips. Dee remembered how Georgia had kissed her so that fact wasn't shocking. It was the nature of this kiss between Georgia and Roni - it strongly suggested that, at least sometimes, these two were much more than friends.
That would not matter to Dee much any more. If she had ever been a prude then that aspect of her personality was vanishing at a rapid rate.
"How are those beautiful girls of yours Roni? Last time I saw them they'd just started their new college. All OK there?"
Roni had a brittle look to her - like metal tempered in the fire a few times too many. But now her smile was genuine and delighted. "Shit yeah - they all love it. So different to that shit-hole they was stuck at. Now they get ME up in the morning so they ain't late for the Tubman bus." She gave a quick cackle of a smokers cough.
"Tubman?" Dee couldn't help ask.
Roni's quick sharp eyes were on her again. She hadn't had much of an education but she was no fool. She rapidly put two and two together. That question and Dee's rather modest attire of a white blouse and knee-length skirt. "You must be Dee, the teacher-lady right?
"She's not teaching tonight - she'll be learning," cut in Georgia.
Roni's eyes crinkled and she gave a knowing smile. "Oh yes - thass right and you a lucky little cracka cos you gonna be learning from two of the very best. By the time we finished you gonna be a bopper that every horny nigga in the Tri-States is gonna wanna get to know."
Dee wasn't quite sure what that meant but she had a suspicion she was going to have a lot of fun finding out.
***
Roni had driven them out to the clothing store. On the way they had passed a familiar large development. Had it really only been a few months since she had visited Jessica there? Georgia had pointed out one of the lower-rise buildings.
"You kow my cousin who lives in this development. Well, over there is our gym. Really convenient for those of us working round here. Mr Taylor gives us a concession on three or four sessions a week and the girls there will organise a diet and program to help us out in those little areas we are lacking."
"I don't understand," admitted Dee.
Roni loved that - she almost drove off the road she was laughing so hard.
"Ba-donkadonk baby, she talking 'bout yo little white booty."
"Roni can laugh - mother nature was rather more generous with her where it counts."
The African-American woman's cackle resounded through the vehicle again. She glanced at Dee's still confused expression and almost split her sides.
"Booty girl - yo butt, yo backside. I'm blessed with the kind of booty a Black man likes to take a hold of. Not a skinny scrawny little be-hind like a lot of white girls is stuck with. The sort like GeeGee had when I first met her."
"Charming - I didn't hear you complaining at the time." The two women exchanged another of those looks that told Dee that they were more than just casual friends.
"Yeah - that was then and this is now. You got a lovely firm booty now and all thru hard work. You didn't cheat like that cousin of yours. Got herself an instant big old booty but I prefer yours any day."
Some of that was going over Dee's head but she was getting the general idea.
Georgia explained. "Most of our men like a certain body type..."
She glared at Roni who had begun humming a tune. Dee had heard it before but couldn't quite remember what it was. Hadn't she heard it when she was a girl?
Georgia gave an exaggerated gasp of exasperation. "Very funny Roni. We get the idea. Sir Mix-A-Lot has a lot of fans round here."
Contd....
This chapter connects in with a chapter of Georgia Plays The Game. I know many readers have not read that earlier story - if you have then I hope it is long enough ago for this re-write to still be entertaining. The next chapter will be submitted next week and will be all new material.
On The Drive North
Dee looked at her fingers as they rested on the steering wheel. On one hand were the rings put there by David - on the other was the eternity ring given to her by Shaka. They symbolised the two sides of her life - two very different sides that could never be allowed to come into contact. Even as she thought that she realised that it was a lie, that she was fooling herself.
This very vehicle, her white Honda Odyssey minivan, proved that. It had been the almost archetypal symbol of her status as a soccer mom, the respectable back-bone of suburban America. But it wasn't any more - at least for her. Even when the girls and Davey were in the back she still couldn't think of the Odyssey that way any more. It had been the place where her Black lover had first made love to her, had first fucked her. Where he had first proved all the old stories true - had proved his superiority in pleasing a woman. Every time she sat behind the wheel she could remember him on her and in her - could remember the look in his eyes when he had filled her with his potent African seed for the first time.
Sometimes she considered the significance of that. Shaka generally made the arrangements in their relationship. That just seemed natural. One thing that frustrated her about her husband was his failure to sometimes take charge when he needed to, in bed and outside of it. How he always stood back and left her to bear the weight of decision and responsibility. There was no question of that with Shaka. Shaka was in charge - but that didn't mean he was brutal or dictatorial. He just knew what was best for them. She wondered about his planning. How he had insisted she come in the Odyssey that first time, how he had given her the ring, how he had made that other vital decision. Those and a hundred smaller little things. All of which had taken her closer and closer to him - had made it inconceivable that she would ever give him up now. Was that just the way it was? Or was he ... manipulating her? She had wondered that before.
On this occasion, as on every previous one, she chose not to worry about the answer to that question too much. She very deliberately chose not to care. Shaka gave her what she needed and he had never promised to be her soul-mate. He had a wife who Dee had never met but who she had seen pictures of. Linda was beautiful - the face of one of those models that made millions strutting up and down the runway. Long blonde hair, high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes and an engagingly brilliant smile. In the same picture had been her children with Shaka - or she assumed with Shaka. Two boys and a little girl only a couple of years younger than her own. She'd seen Shaka look at that picture when he'd shown it to her. Seen the look in his eyes. He wouldn't be giving that family up any more than she was ready to give up hers.
Shaka's children were beautiful, one boy just a little darker in skin tone than the other. The little girl was coffee-skinned but still obviously her mom's little girl. It was indefinable but you'd never doubt the relationship there. Dee had thought about that picture a lot since. Once, and it had shamed her, she had thought about her own little Maddie. How in 12 years, when she was all grown up, she might perhaps meet Shaka's eldest, Jamal, and maybe who knew what might happen. She'd had to stifle that thought. Moms didn't think that way about their little girls. Then she'd realised she still had a long way to go yet. Moms and Grand-moms thought that way a lot - not meaning anything, not seriously, just pondering how nice it would be in the future if something were to work out. Why had she reacted so strongly? Was it the idea of one of her daughters in the future dating a Black man? Was it the idea of her grand-children looking like Shaka's children in the photograph? She wanted to deny it but she had been brought up in the United States, in one of the old Confederate States. The issue was always there - even if you tried not to be led by it.
Anyway, some things were for certain. Shaka wouldn't be abandoning that beautiful family and marrying her. If he'd been the sort of man to do that then Dee still thought she was strong enough to have denied him. Instead, just as Shaka had always made plain, she had become one of his women, one of his stable. Once certain arrangements were in place he didn't expect her to be faithful to him and he sure as shit wouldn't be exclusive to her. His mark, the gaudy hoops already hanging from her ears, would be her protection in the jungle of the Capital. Shaka had almost presented it as a trade-off. If she was going on the pill then she'd become available for some, perhaps all, of the many Black men who had shown real interest in her over the last few weeks. The unspoken comment still sounded loud in her ears. Up to now he'd kept her exclusive because up to now she'd been fertile - he hadn't wanted to risk another man getting her pregnant. She sensed he had been making something else clear too. If, or when, she got pregnant with a Black man's baby then he was going to make sure that baby was his.
That was the thing about a man like Shaka. Sometimes he didn't need to say it. He seemed to know what she was thinking - he seemed happy that she was clever enough to understand where he was coming from. She understood that way she could never be 100% sure that he really was leading her. It could still just be her own desires, her own needs, expressing themselves via him. Either way she and Shaka would find themselves where they wanted and needed to be. Shaka might not have too many degrees and doctorates but he was a seriously smart man.
On The Job Training
The first problem, almost inevitably, had been David. Going to the Capital to spend Saturday with Shaka had been one thing. From now on she was going to need more time. Most importantly she was going to need Saturday nights. To get herself prepared, to go out to the clubs, to meet new Black men and... Well, anyway, there was no way she could be home before Sunday Morning. David was not going to like that - not that it would really make much difference for him. The children would be asleep when she was... She felt guilt at the thought - was suddenly pleased that Shaka was there to take charge as usual.
He had just reached for her bag and produced her phone. "Ring the fool and tell him now. Say this is a different college administration up here - say you got to do one day a week of on-the-job training. What's it they call it - professional development."
'The fool' was Shaka's little pet name for her husband. She'd felt guilty about that too - at first. After a while guilt seemed to sort of wear off about that and a lot of other things. What had seemed outrageous became the new normal. Pretty soon it seemed to be just the natural way of things. Like the fact that she would lie to her husband, like the fact she hadn't told him about the other very important decision she had made.
***
It had been earlier that week. As a fully qualified and experienced teacher with excellent references she hadn't had trouble finding work back here. The short notice of her move meant she'd been working cover for the time being - at two very nice suburban colleges.
The need for a more permanent position wasn't urgent and in fact one of the colleges where she was working had suggested that one would arise there soon. So there was no need for hurry or panic but...
She had received three more letters of invitation from that organisation running colleges in the Capital. What was it called again? That's right - the Taylor Foundation. She had been specifically approached regarding Tubman High, one of the three new colleges recently opened by the Foundation. The post offered would pretty much suit her to a tee and the money was pretty good. She just wished she knew more about the situation there.
She remembered that google hadn't helped much regarding the Foundation but she also knew that she now had some much better sources of information, Sources closer to the ground so to speak.
It turned out Georgia was college Administrator at DuBois High, one of the other new colleges. However, Dee gave most weight in her decision to Shaka - as almost seemed natural now.
"Mr Taylor is good people. Using your skills to help the children down there, children that need really good teachers, I'd approve of that."
Had that made up Dee's mind for her? Or was it the other thing Georgia had said? The Foundation was firm in requiring the highest standards of work from its staff. However, when off duty and off premises, it had a policy of allowing its staff to live their own lives.
That fact might come in very handy. You never knew what the future might bring.
So, for all of those reasons, Dee had found herself being shown around Tubman High by its Principal, Marcus Jones. The college was new and well-equipped. She'd taught in much less adequate conditions. There was, however, one big difference to every other college she had attended or taught in. The pupils were overwhelmingly African-American, just as the area itself was. This was an inner-city college for all that it was freshly-painted and well-equipped. The students and their parents would clearly have a higher percentage of 'difficult cases' than in the leafier suburbs.
Mr Jones had not been slow to admit that fact. In fact he had almost made it a selling point. "This will be a challenging position for you. Our student body has often made a slow start - in some cases a hard start. We need top quality teaching staff to help them get back up to speed, to convince them that what they are doing here really counts. In your own subjects they need to know where they have come from but also to be proud of their and my community's contribution to this country. They need to know how to avoid the pit-falls that claim so many in neighborhoods like this. I'll be frank - the old city colleges couldn't hack it. They were beaten, defeated. We are a fresh start and early signs are encouraging. But we need our troops - our top-quality teachers. To be blunt - we need YOU. Right here, right now. You'll be working hard - don't doubt it - but the rewards and the satisfaction will more than make up for it. You will join us won't you."
Right there and right then he had held out his hand to her.
Dee hadn't hesitated. She knew what she needed to do. She shook his hand.
***
It had been real easy to be swayed by his little speech. Real easy to reach out and take his big strong hand in hers. To see his and her hands joined together as a sort of tiny step forward. Black and white united in seeking a better future for the youngsters growing up around here. She wasn't naive. This was a tough area and the children would never have it easy. But even if you only helped a few - the start would have been made. The ripples would spread, the next generation would have it that little bit better, that little bit easier. It seemed important, it WAS something important that she could do.
...but there was always David. She'd kept her decision secret from him for three long days. He still thought she was considering that half-offer in Alexandria. He didn't know about her decision to teach at Tubman High and he most certainly didn't suspect what reasons lay behind it.
She took the phone from Shaka and then took a deep breath. This might be a little sticky. She felt nervous. Shaka moved over and stood behind her - wrapped her gently in his big strong arms. She felt the strength in him - made the connection.
The phone rang five times and then he answered.
"Hi honey - I've got some great news."
"Oh yes - that's great." He sounded like he was only half-listening. She could hear something in the background, the TV probably. Sport or news or whatever - apparently too important to mute for a phone call from her.
She felt Shaka's warm mouth nuzzle into the nape of her neck. Felt the bristles of his chin against the delicate pale skin of his neck. She stifled a giggle. She signalled to Shaka to lay off - this was important. Needless to say Shaka responded by licking her neck. Sometimes he could be a real a-hole but in the nicest way. Just like her husband had been once - long years ago when they had first got together.
She pushed on - her nerves forgotten courtesy of Shaka's distraction. "Yes honey - I've been offered an excellent permanent position at Tubman High..."
"Uh-huh, that's great."
Was he even listening! 'Tubman High' clearly meant nothing to him - though she'd left one of the brochures out for him to take a look at if he been interested. Clearly he hadn't bothered.
She felt indignation boiling within her. Then she felt Shaka's hands move up her body a little and his fingers begin to tease her nipples to prominence under her blouse. Oh the fucker! She had to get this over with. She felt a tongue languidly lick it's way from her neck up to her right ear. She'd better get this call over with before he started to explore beneath her skirt!
"Yes - remember the name, Tubman High. Well we're under a different jurisdiction so I will be attending special familiarisation sessions after my current Saturday course. They are arranging accommodation..."
"Hey, hey - what's that - what do you mean..." Oh - that seemed to have woken him up. However, a dark hand had stolen down to her skirt and was edging the material up her thigh. She didn't have time to argue just now so she ploughed on over the squeaks coming from her phone.
"...so I'll be staying overnight on Saturdays but I'll be home on Sunday morning ready for church. Anyway we'll have to talk about that later I have to go now. Oh!"
The last exclamation came as she felt strong white teeth nip her ear lobe - mere moments before she felt a Black finger at her clit. She just kept composure enough to end the connection to her husband.
"What am I going to do with you..." you playfully chided as her Black lover continued to tease her body with his skilled mouth and fingers.
She felt his warm breath in her ear as he whispered, "More to the point - what am I going to do with YOU. Just hearing that fool told me I had to keep letting you remember who your real man is. You remembering that?"
His fingers were still working on her - teasing her without mercy. She was aware of his big body behind her - of the bulge pressing into her back. "Always Shaka - always."
"Yeah, that's a good little teacher-girl. Now we'd best get you ready for your first session of on-the-job training."
His big hand smacked her ass playfully and she gave a little yelp of surprise.
***
The quality of any training is dependant upon the tutors giving it. Dee was fortunate in having two of the best. Georgia she had come to know very well already. She met Roni for the first time that evening and Roni was a bit of an eye-opener.
It didn't matter where Georgia and Dee went in the cities no-one would ever doubt that they had come from the prosperous white suburbs. It was a 'selling point' in fact. Their mere presence in many a location would tell the local male population just exactly what they were after. A lot of big Black cocks got very hard at just the idea of classy white MILFs like them coming to the hood. Georgia was well aware of that fact and revelled in it. Dee was about to enjoy finding out the not-so-little benefits of that situation too.
Roni was very different, born and bred in the projects. Mocha-coloured skin with an unruly afro of peroxide-blonde hair. Her skin was smooth but her eyes were wary, checking out everything around her for potential or danger. It didn't take long for Dee to sense that Roni was at least a part-time professional in these matters.
That hadn't been her first shock. That had been when Georgia greeted Roni with a long tender kiss on the lips. Dee remembered how Georgia had kissed her so that fact wasn't shocking. It was the nature of this kiss between Georgia and Roni - it strongly suggested that, at least sometimes, these two were much more than friends.
That would not matter to Dee much any more. If she had ever been a prude then that aspect of her personality was vanishing at a rapid rate.
"How are those beautiful girls of yours Roni? Last time I saw them they'd just started their new college. All OK there?"
Roni had a brittle look to her - like metal tempered in the fire a few times too many. But now her smile was genuine and delighted. "Shit yeah - they all love it. So different to that shit-hole they was stuck at. Now they get ME up in the morning so they ain't late for the Tubman bus." She gave a quick cackle of a smokers cough.
"Tubman?" Dee couldn't help ask.
Roni's quick sharp eyes were on her again. She hadn't had much of an education but she was no fool. She rapidly put two and two together. That question and Dee's rather modest attire of a white blouse and knee-length skirt. "You must be Dee, the teacher-lady right?
"She's not teaching tonight - she'll be learning," cut in Georgia.
Roni's eyes crinkled and she gave a knowing smile. "Oh yes - thass right and you a lucky little cracka cos you gonna be learning from two of the very best. By the time we finished you gonna be a bopper that every horny nigga in the Tri-States is gonna wanna get to know."
Dee wasn't quite sure what that meant but she had a suspicion she was going to have a lot of fun finding out.
***
Roni had driven them out to the clothing store. On the way they had passed a familiar large development. Had it really only been a few months since she had visited Jessica there? Georgia had pointed out one of the lower-rise buildings.
"You kow my cousin who lives in this development. Well, over there is our gym. Really convenient for those of us working round here. Mr Taylor gives us a concession on three or four sessions a week and the girls there will organise a diet and program to help us out in those little areas we are lacking."
"I don't understand," admitted Dee.
Roni loved that - she almost drove off the road she was laughing so hard.
"Ba-donkadonk baby, she talking 'bout yo little white booty."
"Roni can laugh - mother nature was rather more generous with her where it counts."
The African-American woman's cackle resounded through the vehicle again. She glanced at Dee's still confused expression and almost split her sides.
"Booty girl - yo butt, yo backside. I'm blessed with the kind of booty a Black man likes to take a hold of. Not a skinny scrawny little be-hind like a lot of white girls is stuck with. The sort like GeeGee had when I first met her."
"Charming - I didn't hear you complaining at the time." The two women exchanged another of those looks that told Dee that they were more than just casual friends.
"Yeah - that was then and this is now. You got a lovely firm booty now and all thru hard work. You didn't cheat like that cousin of yours. Got herself an instant big old booty but I prefer yours any day."
Some of that was going over Dee's head but she was getting the general idea.
Georgia explained. "Most of our men like a certain body type..."
She glared at Roni who had begun humming a tune. Dee had heard it before but couldn't quite remember what it was. Hadn't she heard it when she was a girl?
Georgia gave an exaggerated gasp of exasperation. "Very funny Roni. We get the idea. Sir Mix-A-Lot has a lot of fans round here."
Contd....
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