It was a typical American middle class story. Boy goes to college, boy meets girl, boy falls in love, girl reciprocates, they graduate, get married and start their new life together. The story wasn't totally typical of course (they never are) because the girl the boy fell in love with had a 'reputation'.

Yvonne, called Y-Von or Vonnie by her friends, while not a round heeled slut, still had a penchant for fucking everybody that she dated. Usually not until the fourth or fifth date, but if you got that far you were an odds on favorite to get laid. What set Vonnie apart from most of the girls on campus was that Vonnie dated black men, especially basketball players, almost exclusively. The fact in and by itself made our being together a most surprising occurrence.

I first saw Vonnie at a frat mixer and for me it was love at first sight. I couldn't take my eyes off her that night as she circulated through the frat house. I asked several people about her and before long I had the story on her and since I was a white boy I resigned myself to losing the woman of my dreams before I even met her. So I was floored when an hour after I arrived at the party Vonnie walked up to me and introduced herself and said, "I've noticed you watching me. Is there a pimple on the back of my neck or some other weird thing drawing your attention to me?"

I was surprised at how direct she was and figured that I should at least try and hold my own with her. "No, it is just that for a while I thought that the woman of my dreams had arrived."

"So I was and then I wasn't?"

"No, you still are, but I'm a realist. I asked around about you and found out that I lack that certain something that it takes to get on your dance card."

"You mean the black thing? You don't figure that you have a shot because you are a white boy?"

I shrugged which pretty much gave her her answer.

"Well I suppose I should tell you that it is true - the thing about black guys - but I'm not a racist and I have on occasion dated a white boy. I would especially be interested in dating one who made my heart tingle just a bit the first time I laid eyes on him."

"And here I thought I was the only romantic here and the only guy in town who believes in the possibility of love at first sight."

"Whoa up there sugar. I didn't say anything about love at first sight, just that I'm aware that there is an attraction."

"I'll take what I can get."

"All you get tonight white boy is a phone number. I'm here with a date and my rule is to always leave with the one who brung me." She handed me her phone number and went back to the party.

I called Vonnie the very next day and made a dinner date with her for that evening. From then on we were inseparable. At the end of our sixth date Vonnie said, "Do I scare you?"

"No, I don't think so, why?"

"You asked around about me so I know that you know that I'm not a virgin and yet here we are at the end of our sixth date and you haven't even tried to cop a feel of my breast. The so-called woman of your dreams doesn't turn you on?"

I was silent for a moment and then I said, "You have pretty straight with me about your past so I guess I can be honest with you about this. Yes, I am scared; not of you, but of the outcome of my trying to have sex with you."

"Good grief honey, why?"

"I'm afraid to find out that I don't measure up and that you will be disappointed and that I'll never see you again."

"I don't follow."

"You know, what they say about blacks and the size of their genitals."

I don't know what I expected from Vonnie, but it sure wasn't the ripping roaring belly laugh that I got. When she finally got herself under control she said, "That's it? You are afraid to have sex with the woman of your dreams because she was the campus nigger lover? And any white girl who spreads for niggers only does it because they have huge cocks? Is that it?"

She could tell from the look on my face that it was and she went on, "Let me tell you something honey, there are all kinds of reasons why a white girl spreads for niggers. In my case it was for spite. My daddy hates niggers with a passion and I despise my daddy so I fuck niggers and I make damned sure he knows about it. My Aunt Clara works in the English Department and she is a direct pipeline to my daddy. I dated black basketball players because little white me next to tall black them draws attention and I make sure I do it in front of Aunt Clara. I fuck them, I suck them, and I get on my knees, bury my head in a pillow and squeal like a pig when they stuff their cocks up my ass and I do it for the sole purpose of letting the news get home to dear old dad. But, back to the matter at hand. I've dated and fucked over twenty-five niggers and only two of them had cocks that could be considered big. The rest were no bigger than any of the white boys who managed to bed me. If I had to I'd bet that the same proportions would hold for a random sample of twenty-five white men. Maybe two or three would be larger than average and the rest would all be in the six inch range." She paused and looked at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm seeing a different you. All of this 'nigger', 'cock', and 'fuck and suck' talk has kind of set me back on my heels."

"That was the purpose honey, to get your attention."

"I don't understand."

"I'm driving home the fact that I come with baggage. If you want me you have to know what you are getting into. There isn't a prejudiced bone in my body, but using the term 'nigger' is driving home the fact that the term 'nigger lover' is going to hang around my neck for the rest of my life and if you are with me you will hear it. Twenty years from now you will hear someone saying things like, "Him? Isn't he the one who married that nigger loving whore, what was her name, Yvonne?" You need to be aware of that and you need to be able to handle it. Hell, you won't even have to wait twenty years; I'll bet it is going around right now. Think you can make it to graduation without punching some guy when you hear him refer to me as a nigger lover or ask you why you are wasting your time on a nigger loving bitch?"

"I don't know?"

"Well you best start giving it some thought because if you stay with me it will be a fact of life you will sooner or later have to confront."

There were several moments of silence and then Vonnie said, "It doesn't look like you are ever going to make the first move so I guess I'll just have to be a brazen slut" and her hands went to my zipper. As she pulled my cock out she said, "Oh baby, you have nothing to be ashamed of here, it's a nice one, and look, it likes me."

Vonnie had nailed it. Everything she had said came to pass. I heard the comments and the snide remarks and my friends all wanted to know why I was being so stupid as to waste my time on trash like Vonnie. Several even said that once a white woman fucks black men she will always go back to them. I knew better and I held my temper, smiled and let their comments roll off. The only serious trouble to come out of my relationship with Vonnie came from a couple of players on the basketball team. They cornered me one night as I was coming out of a drug store and one of them said, "Just a friendly warning honky. You are fucking around with what we consider our private stock and we ain't none too happy about it." Then he started poking me in the chest with a big, blunt finger as he said "You leave our pussy alon..." and his words died in a gurgle as I kneed him hard in the balls. As he went to his knees I turned and squared off to get ready for his buddy and said, "If she was yours she would be with you. Now take asshole here and leave or bring it on."

He looked at me and smiled, "Well at least she didn't pick a wimp" and he helped his buddy up and they moved away. I never told Vonnie about the incident because with her temper only God could have predicted what she might have done. Vonnie and I made it to graduation, found jobs, got married and got on with life.

Vonnie went into advertising and I went to work for an electronics firm in the engineering department. The years flew by and life was good. We had a large group of friends made up of people we had gone to school with, and neighbors who lived around us. We rarely ever got together with each other's co-workers because of conflicts of schedules. Her company would have a cocktail party and I wouldn't be able to attend it for one reason or another and it worked the same way for her when my outfit had a social function. One year the two companies had their Christmas parties on the same night and on the opposite sides of town. I proposed that we go to hers for a little while and then drive over to mine or vice versa, but Vonnie was in the running for a promotion and felt the need to be at hers full time. I knew where she was coming from because for purely in-house political reasons I needed to be seen at mine so I couldn't skip mine and go to hers. So it was that we never socialized with the people that we each worked with.