Chapter 3

What Bobby didn’t think about were those card parties each week, where women who all loved each other and who shared the secret of Bobby might also share other secrets.

Julie’s self-image had already changed in remarkable ways. Knowing she was desirable to a man, even if he was only in high school, began to build her up, like a volcano in the ocean can build an island. Then, when Russell was also eager to be with her, even if there would be no sex, she felt even better about herself. Just as Bobby’s initial interaction with her had caused changes all her friends noticed, at least one of them noticed something different in Julie after she let Russell’s black penis in her body.

That woman was Sarah, who casually commented as cards were dealt, “You must have had some time with Bobby recently. You look like the cat who ate the canary.”

Julie was eager to share, but also worried her friends might think she was a slut. Also, race had never come up during a card game, and she didn’t actually know how the other women might react. Still, “Russell” was too juicy a thing to gossip about.

“It wasn’t Bobby,” said Julie, as if it were no big deal.

Four faces turned to her and all the women actually leaned toward her.

“What?” asked Betty.

“I just said it wasn’t Bobby,” said Julie, whose worry factor was now even with her gossip factor. She felt like she was walking a tightrope. “It’s no big deal. I just met another man, that’s all.”

“You just met another man and went to bed with him?” asked Trudy.

“It wasn’t like that!” yipped Julie. “I am not a slut or a whore!”

Sarah and Cathy, sitting on opposite sides of Julie, both reached to touch her arms.

“Nobody thinks you’re either of those things,” said Cathy. “We just love you and are worried about something bad happening to you.”

“He’s not bad for me. He’s like Bobby. He just isn’t Bobby.” Julie felt better because of the lack of judgement.

“How is he like Bobby?” asked Betty. She blushed. “I mean I’m not trying to pry or anything. We’re just curious, that’s all.”

“He treated me with respect, like Bobby,” said Julie, unintentionally starting the women to move to acceptance ... and possibly involvement with ... this new person like Bobby.

“How old is he?” asked Cathy.

“Why would you ask me that?” Julie frowned.

“Okay, then, what color is his hair?” said Cathy, with sarcasm in her voice. “What’s his shoe size?”

“Calm down,” said Betty, her voice firm. She saw herself as the “mother” of the group, or possibly mentor. It wasn’t a formal thought in her mind. “She has a right to privacy, just like the rest of us. You’re all acting like leeches who found a fresh victim.”

It was quiet for a while, as cards were picked up and arranged in female hands.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to know,” said Julie. “I’m just really afraid you’ll judge me.”

“Honey, none of us can throw the first stone,” said Betty. “If he makes you happy like Bobby does, then I’m happy for you.”

There were murmurs of agreement and then more silence. Silence liked to be filled with noise, particularly in this group. Julie was also excited because she was part of the Bobby club and she had heard the others praise him for both his sexual and non-sexual attributes. They had all started to feel better after having Bobby in their lives. Not that their problems went away, or anything. Those problems were just easier to endure. So Julie wanted her friends to have double the pleasure, like she was having.

“Okay, look,” she said, after three rounds in which she took all three tricks. “He’s one of Bobby’s friends. Bobby trusted him to be discreet and he is. He’s also ... um ... luscious in bed.”

The dam was broken and details were sought and given. Everything was discussed but his name. Nobody thought to ask what color his skin was, but again it was Sarah who intuited that information.

“Wait,” she said, thoughtfully. “Bobby doesn’t have a ton of friends; not friends he spends a ton of time with.” She frowned. “He only has one friend like that.”

Trudy was the next to get it.

“You don’t mean that black boy who hangs around with him,” she said. It was half comment and half query.

There were four intakes of breath when Julie just looked at her cards.

“You let a boy like that put his prick in you?” squealed Trudy.

“He’s not a boy like that!” yelled Julie. “He’s just a boy who likes me like Bobby likes me and who I had a very good time with. If you tried him you’d understand what I mean.”

There were four more gasps.

“Try him?!” squealed Trudy. “You have to be shitting me! There’s no way in the world I’d let a ... a...”

“Nigger, Trudy?” said Julie, calmly. “Is that what you call him? I had no idea you were a racist bitch.”

“Hang on, here,” said Betty, breaking in. “There is no need to go saying things that we’ll wish we hadn’t said.”

“Like nigger?” asked Julie.

“I wasn’t going to use that word,” complained Trudy. “It’s just that where I came from white girls and black boys didn’t mix.”

“Where you came from and when you came from,” said Julie, who was not cowed in any way. She’d had a fabulous time with Russell and she planned to have a fabulous time with him again, many times, if possible. “It’s not nineteen thirty, Trudy!”

“Look,” said Betty. “Let’s take a few breaths and get our composure back. There’s no need to go further with this now. We can wait until our heads are calm and cool.”

“Your head is already calm and cool,” Julie pointed out.

“No it isn’t,” said Betty, calmly and coolly. “My head is spinning with images of you and him ... doing that.”

“Ohhhhh,” moaned Trudy. “Please don’t make me think of that. Not again.”

“Again?” Cathy chimed in. “What do you mean again? When did someone mention interracial sex before today? What are you talking about?”

“Ohhh fuck,” whined Trudy, who covered her face with both hands and began crying.

“That’s enough,” said Betty. “We all need to calm down.”

“I’ll just go,” sobbed Trudy.

“No, you will not,” said Betty, stridently. “You’re in no condition to drive. We’ll all stay right here until we can at least act normal.”

Betty was the self-appointed “mother” of the group, but nobody gainsaid that appointment. They all sat back and just breathed for a while. Trudy’s sobs slowly abated and turned into hiccups and then sniffles.

“Is it against the rules to ask what it was like?” asked Cathy.

Nobody said anything.

“I just can’t help but be curious,” she said. “I’m not saying we should do what Julie said, but we all know what Bobby is like in bed. It’s just normal to wonder what his friend is like, too.”

Julie stood up and went to sit by Betty and Trudy. Trudy’s hands were still over her face. Julie put an arm around her and squeezed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” moaned Trudy.

“Talk about what?” asked Sarah. She had been imagining what having sex with Russell might be like, too. She was imagining that one or more of her children were mixed race, little brown babies who all the world would know had not been sired by her husband. At the same time, sex with Bobby had made her world bearable again. Would having two illicit lovers be even better?

“Obviously something happened to her when she was ... younger,” said Julie. “Something traumatic.”

“Why do you think that?” asked Sarah, whose imagination had been keeping her busy enough that she wasn’t paying that much attention to what was going on.

“You know her as well as the rest of us,” snorted Cathy. “She would never melt down like that if she wasn’t really upset and the only thing we were talking about when she melted down was having sex with a boy of another race.”

Sarah leaned forward.

“You mean you had sex with a black person one time?” Her delivery was as artless as it was possible to be. Betty groaned and Julie slapped at Sarah’s shoulder.

Trudy’s hands came down and a look of both anger, frustration and something like stubbornness stained her face red.

“Okay, yes! Yes! I had sex with a black man when I was fourteen. There. Are you happy, now?”

“How did it happen?” asked Sarah, who wasn’t put off at all by the vitriol in Trudy’s voice. “Did it happen more than once?”

Now Trudy just looked tired. She leaned back in her chair and her hands dropped to her lap. Julie and Betty kept their arms around her in support.

“Don’t make her talk about it,” said Betty.

“It’s all right,” sighed Trudy. “I’ve hated keeping that secret almost my whole life.”

“You mean your parents didn’t know?” asked Cathy.

“No. If my daddy had known he would have killed the man and then he’d have gone to prison and I didn’t want him in prison.”

“Who was it?” asked Sarah.

“He was my math teacher,” said Trudy. “He told me to stay after school one day and said I was failing and he was going to have to give me an F if I didn’t do something.” She looked around. “He didn’t mean study harder.”

“So he blackmailed you into having sex with him?” Sarah sounded horrified.

“It was more like I bribed him to give me a passing grade by letting him have sex with me,” she said.

“It must have been awful,” moaned Sarah.

“That was the problem,” said Trudy, covering her face with her hands again. “I loved it. I went back over and over until he told me I had to stop before he got me pregnant. The thought of that knocked some sense into me.”

“How many times?” whispered Cathy.

“I didn’t exactly count,” said Trudy, as her hands came down again. “I think it almost drove me insane. My dad was the worst kind of racist. He used that word ... the one I almost used ... all the time. If I didn’t hear that word fifteen times a day it was only because Daddy didn’t go to work that day. He was always furious that blacks got promoted above him.” She sighed. “But I loved it so much. Mister Brimlow was so sweet and he made me feel like a queen. He cried when I let him in me, tears of joy. His wife had died and I think he missed having sex.”

“Well, duh,” said Julie. “I’m glad you told us.”

“You practically beat it out of me,” accused Trudy.

“If I had known what you meant I wouldn’t have argued with you at all,” said Julie. “I didn’t say everybody had to have sex with him. I just said that if you did, you’d understand why I’m acting the way I am.” She frowned. “Or was.”

“That word is a real buzz kill,” said Betty.

“So it was good for you with your math teacher, and it sounds like it was good for Julie with...”

“Russell,” said Julie. “His name is Russell and he’s Bobby’s best friend. Bobby even introduced me to him and then left us alone, knowing I expected to have sex and would be horny.”

“Bobby set it up?” yipped Cathy.

“No, he just let it happen,” said Julie. “I was the one who seduced Russell, not the other way around.”

“So you wanted to have interracial sex?” asked Sarah.

“It wasn’t like that,” said Julie. “Yes, I noticed his skin, but he was just Bobby’s friend and he was polite and a little astonished, I think. I got the impression he was like me. He was sure nobody would ever have sex with him and when I made it clear I was interested, it kind of got under his skin.”

“Like Bobby has gotten under our skin,” said Betty.

“Exactly,” said Julie. “It’s like I’ve been eating pumpkin pie, which I’ve loved eating, and just found out about key lime pie, which is also deee-licious.” She smacked her lips.

“Don’t torment Trudy,” scolded Betty.

“Do you think he’d do that with any of the rest of us?” asked Sarah.

“Good grief, Sarah!” barked Betty. “Are you just trying to torment one of your best friends?”

“It’s okay,” said Trudy. “I get it. I understand completely why Julie might have enjoyed herself. Not that I think his skin color had anything to do with it. When Tim was fucking me and my eyes were closed, there was nothing at all there to tell me he was black.”

“So ... did either of them have ... you know ... a huge...?”

“That’s interesting,” said Julie, preventing Trudy from having to answer. “That was my exact opener. I asked him if it was true that black men had huge dicks.”

“And?”

“And he showed me,” said Julie, looking smug. She said nothing else.

“Well, was it?” whined Sarah.

Julie looked around. Then she looked at Sarah.

“You already have two kids and your husband won’t touch you. It’s bad enough you let Bobby put his seed in you. Don’t you think it would be craziness of the highest magnitude if you ended up delivering a milk chocolate colored baby?”

Sarah blinked, swallowed, and then blinked again.

“You’re right,” she said. “So why am I so curious about this?”

“For the same reason the rest of us are,” said Betty. “Or at least some of the rest of us. We were curious about Bobby when Julie told us about him. So now she has waxed almost poetic about this other young man. I think it’s normal that we’d be curious.”

“He’s already almost as good as Bobby,” said Julie. “I taught him some things and he’s a super-fast learner. He’ll do everything just the way you want him to.”

“So he’s experienced already,” said Cathy.

“No. He was a virgin,” said Julie. She grinned. “I actually got to pick a boy’s cherry.” She frowned. “Except don’t call him ‘boy’. He doesn’t like that.”

“I can imagine,” said Trudy. “A mixed race baby would have destroyed my life back then. Now? Not so much. There’s no way Jerry would refuse to divorce me if I had a ... what did you call it, Julie? A milk chocolate baby?”

“Yes,” said Julie. “I kept expecting him to taste like chocolate when I sucked him, but he didn’t.”

“Oh my,” moaned Trudy. “I loved sucking my teacher, too. He’s the one who taught me how to do that. If we didn’t have time to fuck I’d just get him off that way.”

“I bet he never reciprocated,” said Betty.

“No, but I didn’t care,” said Trudy. “I knew he’d ring my bell sometime soon. One of the hardest things I ever did was stop seeing him.”

“You’re right, Trudy,” said Betty. “Jerry would definitely divorce you, but that’s not a good reason to have a baby. You should have a baby to love it and cherish it.”

“I know,” sighed Trudy.

“I’d love and cherish Bobby’s baby,” said Julie.

“That wouldn’t be fair to Bobby,” said Betty. “He’d never get to be in his baby’s life and you would be stealing your baby’s father.”

“I never thought about it that way,” said Julie. “I just get these ... urges.”

“I know about those urges,” said Sarah. “I loved getting pregnant. I just never knew it would destroy my marriage.”

“It shouldn’t have done that and that’s not your fault,” said Betty.

“I know,” said Sarah. “I know he’s the one who destroyed things by being an asshole, but I still get the urge to get a fat belly now and again.”

“Do you really think Russell would do that with the rest of us?” asked Cathy. “Having a mixed race baby would solve my problem, too.”

“That’s not a good reason to have a baby!” groaned Betty.

“I know,” said Cathy. “Still ... I’m curious and I’m probably already going to hell for letting Bobby fuck my brains out. How much worse could it be if I satisfied my curiosity?”

It is fairly routine for someone who hears a new musician, and really likes that musician, to want her friends to hear this new music too. We all want to share the things that we really enjoy, and which we think others will like, too. This might have been why Julie was so avid to get one of her white sisters to try black cock. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t black cock Julie was enamored with. It was Russell’s cock. To many there would be no difference, but there is a not-so-subtle difference. As Trudy had said, when Tim Brimlow was molesting her, if her eyes were closed she couldn’t tell he was black. At the same time, she undeniably knew he was the kind of man her father would hate more than any other for sliding his penis into her young, Caucasian vagina. For that matter, it might have been that Mr. Brimlow knew how rabidly racist her father was, and that was why he lusted after this delicious little white morsel as much as he did. That will never be known.

Long story short, Julie wanted to know that Russell had made (at least) one of her friends squeal, so it’s not odd that she kept trying to make that happen.

One might assume that Trudy would have been primed to do it, because memories from her past had been awakened. They were good memories, with some caveats, so it wouldn’t have been surprising if Trudy had wanted to take a little trip down memory lane.

It was Cathy, though, who couldn’t resist satisfying her curiosity about all this. And Julie didn’t have to sell her friend on it. That got done when Cathy and Sarah spent some time shopping a day or two later and had a hard time talking about anything else. Both felt bad about being so curious but neither could get the image of sweet, chubby Julie on her knees, sucking the cock of the young man neither woman had paid any attention to before this, other than knowing -he existed and that he was Bobby’s friend. In fact, Julie had never knelt to suck Russell back to stiffness, but both women imagined it that way, for some reason. There was some inevitable white guilt involved in all of this. That was the “gift” of the fucked up race relations in America and the fact that neither woman had ever known a black man before, much less imagined having sex with one. Neither woman was racist. They just could not ignore the fact that his race was different.

To be fair, both women were curious primarily because of just how happy Julie had been about doing this new thing. They knew Julie’s self-image was damaged, though Bobby had done much to repair that, but for her to have taken the chance to be rejected by a complete stranger meant something to them both. Neither of them really had any self-image issues. Both considered their husbands to be the ones with issues, rather than themselves, at least since Bobby had come into their lives. Because of that, neither really understood how Julie could accept Bobby’s “recommendation” about Russell without the hint of fear that she might get rejected. Bobby wouldn’t set her up for failure like that.