Chapter 8

Two weeks later Larmar informed Marcy that his high school was having a reunion. The school being rather small, reunions were not held for individual classes, but rather every five years an all Trudeau High School reunion was held, inviting all past classes to attend. The private school, despite attempts to the contrary, remained exclusively Black, Jamal's Black Nationalist organization having a great deal to do with that. Marcy was told she would come as Lamar's date. She tried to talk him out of it, worried that even though the school was completely across town from Ratcliff, her own alma mater, there still might be a chance of someone recognizing her. But Lamar was emphatic and so, with the reunion dance to be held on a Friday, Marcy found herself dressing in a provocative skin tight mini length dress and stiletto heels and accompanying Lamar.

Marcy uttered a slight gasp as they entered the gym where the dance was underway. Even though her skin was now a rich brown from her constant tanning, she still stood out among the throng of Blacks, young and old. She tried to ignore the stares as Lamar escorted her to the center of the floor and they began dancing to a slow romantic tune. One hand holding hers, the other rested on her now ample buttocks and he pulled her to him and told her to lay her head on his shoulder.

"You gonna do a little entertainin' tonight," he said into her ear.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I got a few friends here who ain't had a piece of you yet, so here's the way it's gonna play out. Anybody walks up to you and tells you he's from Mississippi, you give him what he wants."

"Here?" she almost cried.

"No, you stupid White bitch, not here in the middle of the dance floor. Take him into one of the classrooms or outside, maybe do him in one of the cars. I don't care where you do him, you just do him and he better love it."

"How many friends?" she asked.

He smiled.

"Let's just say you've got a full evening ahead of you."

"Please Lamar, let's go home. I'll give it to you any way you want."

"You gonna do that anyway as soon as my friends finish with you. Now, you wearing anything under that dress?"

"No, only my stockings like you told me."

"Good, it'll make that White meat easier to get to."

Marcy flushed with embarrassment and consternation as Lamar started to walk away.

"How will I find you... when I'm finished?"

"I'll find you," he said, disappearing into the crowd.

Marcy turned to find an older couple smiling and enjoying some punch. They saw how out of place she felt and struck up a conversation. Both were pleasant and Marcy had just begun to relax when a handsome young man, about Lamar's age walked up behind her.

"Hi, I'm Ray," he said, smiling broadly.

She turned to face him.

"I'm Marcy."

"Where are you from, Marcy?"

"Dexter, Kansas, but my parents moved here when I was just a little girl, so I call Clewiston home."

"Really, well... I'm from Mississippi myself."

Marcy's expression changed instantly, from the pleasure of a handsome young man's company to the resignation that he wanted nothing but her body.

"I... said I was from Mississippi," he repeated.

"Where... do you want to go," she asked.

"This way," he said leading the way out of the gym and down a long hallway. It was dark in this part of the building but Marcy could just make out "School Nurse" on the door as the young man took out a pen knife and had the locked door open in seconds.

He pointed to a small padded examination table. The young man's eyes lit up as Marcy slipped out of the dress and stood before him nude except for the ever present black stockings.

Marcy was all too aware of her instructions from Lamar, so she lay on her back, letting her legs dangle over opposite sides of the table, thereby spreading herself for him.

"Ever had a White mare, Ray?" she asked.

"Once," he replied, quickly shedding his clothes.

"Well let's see if you can stay in the saddle," she said pulling him down onto and into her and beginning to hump him in wild abandon.

Minutes later the young man was back in the gym a smile on his face and eager to share his experience with his friends. Marcy reentered, moving for the punch table but was intercepted by a much older man, in his late sixties or early seventies.

"I understand you are looking for someone from Mississippi," he smiled.

They hadn't gotten far from the gym when he backed into a dark corner of the hallway and unzipped his pants.

"See if this will fit in that pretty little mouth of yours," he snickered, pulling out a limp withered penis.

Marcy took him into her mouth and within seconds he was stiff and throbbing and less than a minute later was orgasming into her throat.

"Damn, you're not bad for a White woman," he said, zipping up and leaving Marcy on her knees, semen dripping from her mouth.

Her next "friend of Lamar" was a fat and ugly middle aged man, his breath bad which was worse since he insisted on French kissing Marcy even as he pumped her on the carpeted floor of the teachers lounge.