Hell Followed With Him
Chapter 1: The Horseman is Born
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Rape, Heterosexual, Fiction, Revenge, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, First, Violent,
Desc: Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Horseman is Born - A man doing what he has to do to keep his family safe.
Have you ever heard the term "Seeing Red" and know what it means? I have, and I do. I saw red for the first and only time in my life that night.
I guess I should probably introduce us and give you some idea of what all transpired to lead us, ultimately, to that moment in time when the red haze clouded my vision.
For some background, my name is Steven Harper, and my wife is Latisha Harper, formerly Latisha Martin. We've been together since High School, and in spite of the fact that I'd never dated a black girl before, I found myself drawn to her magnetically. It was like she had a hold on me that I didn't understand. Before I knew it, I had dumped my previous girlfriend, and the next day I was asking Latisha Martin out.
"Sorry, but I don't date white boys," she said with an apologetic smile.
"'Don't', or 'haven't yet?'" I asked with my most charming smile. I have light sandy brown hair, green eyes, and I'm about as white as you can get.
I knew from asking around that she'd dumped her ex-boyfriend several weeks before, and hadn't hooked up with another guy yet.
My question caught her off-guard, and she looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. I could see her sizing me up. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I was a cornerback on the Football team, so I was in shape.
"Ok ... Steve, is it? What did you have in mind for our date?" she asked, the beginnings of a smile starting to play across her lips.
"Well, if that's a 'yes', then how about dinner and a movie? I know it's been done to death as a 'first date', but it's been done to death for a reason."
"Ok, but I pick the movie," she said sternly. Her girlfriend, Lena, stood there and gawked as Latisha just accepted a date with a white boy. As I glanced at her, she smiled knowingly. I would find out later about the conversation they had.
"He's FINE, Tish! I think you should go for it," Lena said to her friend after Latisha confided that she was having second thoughts.
"He is pretty fine for a white boy, but what will my folks say?" she asked. "You know how traditional they are. Just because you and Mitch are tight, doesn't mean the rest of us sistas have the same type of feelings for white guys."
"Mmhmm, and you also know that closed minds are ignorant minds. I'm not saying to marry him, but at least give him a chance," Lena said, her common sense and open-mindedness showing through.
"I don't know, Lena..."
"Look. Why did you dump Terry, and Carl before him?" Lena asked.
"Well, Carl was an asshole, and Terry was a cheatin' asshole."
"Uh huh. Now, there are some good brothas out there, but I've had similar experiences with them. If I wasn't with Ty, I could see myself with Mitch in a heartbeat. I know he wouldn't cheat on me or hurt me." Lena explained her own views to her girlfriend.
"Well, he's your Best Friend, so of course he wouldn't cheat on you!" Latisha laughed.
"I know, it ain't the same situation you're in, but give Steve a chance. Who knows? You might just like it," she said with a wink.
Latisha sighed. "Ok, what could it hurt? But if he turns out to be a serial killer and kills me, I'm gonna come back and haunt you!"
The two of them laughed as they entered their last class for the day.
Latisha told me about that conversation after our third date, and I had just kissed her goodnight. As it turned out, we did hit it off. We had more in common than I thought. While I'm not a huge fan of Hip-Hop, I like R&B and Blues, and I love Jazz. She isn't a fan of Heavy Metal, but that's fine by me.
The movie we went to see on our first date was "Guess Who?" with Ashton Kutcher and Zoe Saldana. It was an educational experience.
She also told me a couple years later, just before our wedding, that she wanted to see my reaction to some of the things said in the movie. I could see how some of the scenes might be uncomfortable for some, but I wasn't Ashton's character, and I had never cared about the color of someone's skin. It doesn't reflect the quality of their character, in my experience.
Granted, the contrast in our skin tones was a huge turn-on for me. Her dark chocolate complexion, contrasting with my tan but still pale-by-comparison skin tone, was extremely erotic.
Six weeks after we started dating, I met her Mom and Dad. Up until then, I had picked her up for, and dropped her off from our dates in front of her house. She'd warned me about their views on white people, but I finally told her that sneaking around behind their backs wasn't the way to go. I wanted her in my life, no matter what others might think. So we discussed it one afternoon while walking through the park hand in hand, and finally agreed that I'd meet her folks first, then she would meet mine afterward.
Her parents were leery and suspicious of me at first, and I had overheard her father saying that her being with me as akin to sleeping with the enemy. Latisha defended me, saying that I wasn't like some white guys, and I had to smile at that. Yes, I had fallen In Love with her, and she had fallen In Love with me.
I won her folks over when I stood up to her father and told him respectfully, but in no uncertain terms, that I love his daughter. I let my irritation at his digs show, and also told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to be pushed out of her life by anyone but her. Latisha was the only one who could end our relationship, and I wasn't going anywhere, otherwise. I would be damned if I let anyone or anything come between us, even her parents.
Her mother surprised me by giving me a hug, and I saw tears in her father's eyes as he accepted my impassioned declaration of love for his daughter. Even her older brother came around eventually. He'd been trying to set his sister up with one of his friends in the Marines, but she wasn't having it.
My folks had a completely different reaction to Latisha, and it didn't take her long to win them over with her sweet personality, intelligence, charm, and steely determination. My sister, on the other hand, was skeptical. She didn't say anything right away, but told me after I'd driven Latisha home that she hated my new girlfriend. Even more than she usually hated my girlfriends.
"Why, Sally?" I asked when she told me that she didn't like Latisha. "You hate every girlfriend I've ever had. So what makes Latisha any worse than them in your view?" I pretty much knew the answer already.
"Do I have to say it, Steve? Do I really have to say it?!" she asked, fed up with my apparent denseness.
"Because she's black." It wasn't a question.
She sighed. "Look, I have nothing against black people, but..."
"But they aren't good enough for me, according to you." Once again, it wasn't a question. I'd heard my sister say the n-word a few times in the last couple of years, but she had never said it in front of our parents. "Look, Sally. Mom and Dad never taught us to be bigoted or racist, so where did you learn it from?"
She was caught off-guard by that question.
"Well, all the crime..." she started.
"Stop right there," I said calmly. "First of all, not all people can be judged by the criminals of the same race. Latisha has never even spent a night in jail, and her older brother only spent a night in jail once for doing something that any guy would have done when he defended himself and his girlfriend. Charges were never filed, and the cops let him go the next morning." I paused to let that sink in.
"Think about it," I said. "Latisha and Lena were having a conversation shortly after I asked her out, and she thought that I might be a serial killer. We had a good laugh about that after our third date, but that's another stereotype for you. Not all, but the majority of the notorious serial killers that have been in the News are white. Is that a fair stereotype for all white guys, Sally?"
My sister hung her head as she carefully considered everything I'd just said. She finally looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "You're right, Steve. I'm sorry."
I had to blink a few times at that. My little sister, barely a year younger than me, but ALWAYS right, had just admitted for the first, and probably only time that I was right about something, and that she was wrong! But what was even more amazing; she apologized to me!
Instead of rubbing her nose in it, I decided to be a gentleman. "Thanks, Sally. Now, please get rid of all those racist and bigoted stereotypes in your head, because there's a good chance that you might have her as your sister-in-law someday."
Her eyes went wide at that statement. "You're thinking of marrying her?" There was more surprise than anger or resentment in her voice and expression.
"If things keep going as they've been going, yes," I said with a smile. "I love her, Sis."
In response, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. "I just want to see you happy, Bro. Don't screw this up!"
I didn't screw it up. We'd been dating for three months when she finally decided that we'd had enough of foreplay. So far, I hadn't gone past third base with her, fingering and licking her pussy. She had sucked me off a few times, but we hadn't gone all the way ... yet.
But that night after watching the Baseball game, we decided to drive up to the Bluffs. My shiny pale gray 1968 Mustang Fastback 390 GT has a decent sized backseat, so when we got there, we climbed into the back and were all over each other.
"I'm ready tonight if you are," she said with a smile after a long bout of kissing.
"I've been ready, baby," I replied with a grin. Neither of us were virgins that night, but we hadn't had much experience either.
But when it's right, it's right.
"Do it, baby," she moaned as I undid her blouse buttons. She was running her fingers through my hair as she kissed my lips over and over. The front clasp on her bra made it easy to remove, and her perky B-cup breasts popped free.
She reached up and grabbed my head, entwining her fingers in my hair as she drew my face towards her tits. I obligingly took one hard nipple between my lips and sucked, nibbled, and chewed it until it was even harder than it had been.
While sucking one, I would pinch the other, and then moved my mouth over to suck that one too. Her dark nipples were so fucking beautiful, I had to worship them both with my lips and tongue.
She moaned and her fingers tightened in my longish hair. "Oh, God, baby. I can't wait anymore. I need you inside me!" she gasped.
That was all the encouragement I needed as I pushed her skirt up and literally ripped her panties off of her. She fished my hard 8 inch cock out of my pants and moved astride me as I laid down lengthwise on the seat itself. She grinned as she rubbed the head against her glistening wet pussy lips, and then, oh so slowly, Latisha impaled herself on my shaft.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sensations that rocketed through me as my cock sank deep into her hot, tight, wet pussy. I'd had sex a few times with an ex-girlfriend, but Latisha was something else entirely! It could have been the fact that I hadn't loved the girl who took my virginity. That had been fueled by hormones more than any kind of emotional attachment.
This time, I was In Love, and I felt it in my heart and soul.
Latisha gazed down at me with a look of pure lust in her eyes as I filled her completely. She started flexing her cunt muscles around me, and it was all I could do to keep from coming. She grinned as she saw my discomfort, and thankfully stopped massaging my cock with her pussy. That allowed me to calm down enough as she continued to enjoy the feel of our physical joining.
Then she leaned down and whispered in my ear: "Now we're gonna fuck, baby."
With those words, Latisha started bouncing up and down on my cock as my hands reached behind her and grabbed her round firm bubble butt. I squeezed and slapped it as she bounced up and down, fucking me hard as I bucked my hips up to meet her.
Her head was on my shoulder to avoid bouncing off the ceiling of my Mustang.
"Fuck me, baby! Fuck me good!" she gasped as she mostly fucked herself using my cock. She bounced and bounced, her pussy getting wetter and hotter as we fucked.
Then her lips found mine and she did her best to play hockey with my tonsils as her tongue invaded my mouth and throat. We moaned in unison as our fucking got even hotter and heavier.
Our bodies were soaked in sweat as we fucked furiously, and her dark skin glistened in the moonlight filtering in from the windows. All these months of denying ourselves this final intimate step, and now here we were, our minds focused on nothing but pleasure as our bodies took over and satisfied our mutual needs.
When she screamed, it was a banshee wail of lust and satisfaction, and I answered in kind with a roar as my balls contracted and my cock exploded inside her. Our climaxes were so powerful, they could have been mistaken for a San Andreas Fault tremor ... at least to us!
I literally saw stars, and not because of the starlit sky above. When my vision finally cleared, Latisha was still impaled on my softening cock and breathing heavily into my shoulder. She kept muttering "Oh my lord" over and over as we caught our collective breath. I can't lie. It was a huge boost to my ego that I had been able to make this lovely Nubian goddess come that hard!
My arms were still wrapped around her as I held her close, stroking her hair as my lips found her long, lovely, and sensuous neck.
We just held each other close, enjoying the afterglow of our first time as lovers. Our first time going all the way. Our first of many times together for the rest of our lives.
When we got to UCLA in the fall, we managed to keep our life together by getting an apartment off-campus, and with our scholarships and part time jobs, we managed to make a living while getting our degrees, and by the end of our Sophomore year, we had enough for a small honeymoon after we were married.
Our wedding happened on July 4th, so I wouldn't forget our Anniversary, as Latisha put it. Everyone should have fireworks on their Anniversary, in my humble opinion. Tisha stayed on the Pill, so we wouldn't need condoms. Both of us hated rubbers anyway.
We always made time for each other, even after we were married. She got a degree in Business, while I went for IT. Yeah, I always liked, and am good with computers, so a degree in Computer Science was a no-brainer for me.
Two years after our wedding, we graduated and went into the work force. Latisha was hired at an advertising agency, and I was hired at a data entry firm to work on their internal and external servers.
We got an apartment in Santa Barbara, and life was great for another two years. Sure, we had our occasional argument, but nothing that we couldn't discuss once our tempers had cooled a bit. Every married couple has arguments. Anyone who says otherwise is lying through their teeth.
We finally had the Start a Family talk, and we agreed that it was time. We'd both just been promoted, and Latisha went off the Pill. Our new raises made it possible for us to put a down payment on a house, so we did.
Our lovemaking and fucking was still as magical as that first time in the back of my Mustang.
Yes, I still have that Classic. If it had been painted Highland Green, it would have been a dead ringer for the car that Steve McQueen drove in "Bullitt". Dad even came clean after he bought it for me and helped me restore it, saying that he had convinced Mom to name me Steve after the actor. Yeah, he's a big fan.
Instead, it was still painted the shiny pale gray color that I liked.
So it came to pass that almost four years after we were married, in the last week of June to be exact, Latisha started getting sick in the mornings. At first we thought she had a stomach bug, but when I took her to the doctor, he confirmed that she was pregnant! We were going to have our first baby!
We celebrated that night with a lovemaking session for the ages, as I took my time, making love to her first with my lips and tongue, exploring for the thousandth time, every part of her gorgeous body. Then we made love long and slow, taking our time. We were in no hurry to the finish line, that night. It felt like we had all the time in the world.
That night, I completely forgot a discussion we'd had a few weeks before. Some guys at work had been coming very close to sexually harassing Latisha. I would be reminded of it a week later, though ... and not in a good way!
It had started, seemingly innocently enough. Latisha is somewhat of a flirt, but she knows when to cool it down. She isn't even flirty enough to be called a cock tease. She never makes promises like that, so guys know that she's only being friendly.
Well, it seemed that there was a group of five guys that she told me about; who decided that she wasn't being "friendly" enough. When one asked her out, she told him No. She told him that she's happily married, and that she loves me. He had seemed to take it ok, but soon another one of his group asked her out as well.
I remember getting a cold feeling in my gut. We'd had to deal with some assholes in College that thought that every hot girl on campus belonged to them, regardless of relationship or marital status. Latisha had fought them off back then, with minimal help needed from me. I'd had to fight one guy who wouldn't take "NO" for an answer, and that had ended his dreams of "stealing" my wife.
She'd told me their names and what they looked like. Three of them were white, while two were black.
Darren Richards worked as one of the idea guys at the agency. A black dude, he also had a bit of a reputation as a ladies' man.
Larry Clayton was a white guy who worked as a graphic designer. He thought of himself as God's Gift to Everything, from what Latisha had been able to gather.
Jack Sutter was another white guy who seemed to be cut from the same cloth as his butt buddies.
Jim Gables was the other black guy, and Geoffrey "With a G" Gelman was the last white guy.
Jim, as it turned out, was the "brains" of their little group.
As I would find out, they had graduated together from USC, which automatically made me not like them. The UCLA/USC rivalry in the PAC 12 is one of the longest running in Football History. We tend to call them the Condoms or the Rubbers. Trojans? Get it?
Anyhow, as it turned out, they had all been in the same Frat in college, so of course they just HAD to get hired together at the ad agency. Latisha was a project coordinator, so she had to oversee their work. That had started the whole "asking her out on a date" thing. At first, we just thought they were trying to score brownie points with her, in spite of the rings on her left ring finger.
Little did we know.