Chapter 10

They were seated in a private booth in a small intimate restaurant far across town. She and Phillip had never eaten there nor did she recognize any faces as they had entered, so Jeanne relaxed and enjoyed the delicious meal and wine.

Eric drank in the beauty of the woman sitting across from him. She wore her auburn locks high in a twist, her eyes accentuated by a hint of shadow. She wore a black satin evening gown cut low and revealing not only very attractive cleavage, but also the fact that she wore no bra. The clinging gown accentuated her figure nearly reaching the floor, but with deep slits on either side exposing lots of leg and thigh. Silver sequined stiletto heels and matching pierced dangling earrings completed the stunning ensemble.

"Enjoying yourself?' he asked.

The meal was delicious, and I find your company charming, but frankly I'm wondering..."

"About that decadence I promised you?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Coming up shortly, but first, a dance with my lady."

"Why I'd love to kind sir," she replied keeping the atmosphere light.

Again she was surprised that although the small dance floor was dimly lit and the music soft and sensuous Eric, while holding her tightly to him, made no overt moves of any kind.

"What is your naughtiest fantasy, Jeanne?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I think I've already had my fantasies realized," she whispered in his ear.

"What a wonderfully sweet thing to say, even if it isn't true."

"Oh? And just what do you think my deepest, darkest fantasy is?" she smiled.

"Oh I'm sure it involves a handsome stranger, a bed and a pair of naked bodies," he smirked good naturedly.

"See, I told you I'd already..."

"But like most Caucasian women, I think your fantasy stranger's skin is a bit darker than mine."

Her mouth flew open in total surprise and embarrassment.

"How... how did you... ?"

"I'm a psychology major, remember? It's my business, or soon will be, to know what secrets people harbor and why."

Actually Eric was aware that the fantasy of sex with a man of another race was a quite common one and signified little or nothing, but he wasn't about to let Jeanne know that.

"I guess you know as much about me as I know about myself," she mused.

"As much as I need to know. How else can I arrange to provide the excitement you want and need?"

"So tonight you've arranged... ?"

A look of sudden realization and shock swept across her lovely face.

"No, you haven't... you didn't..." she began, nervously glancing over one shoulder, then the other.

It was then that she caught sight of the good looking Black man standing in the foyer. Their eyes met for a moment and he smiled, but Jeanne quickly looked away.

"Eric, tell me you didn't..."

"Relax, I just want you to meet someone," he replied motioning to the handsome Black who smiled and headed their way.

"Eric I absolutely cannot..."

They both knew it had nothing to do with race. In fact Jeanne had often fantasized about sexual liaisons with men of other races. It was just that even with his wild and adventurous sexual games, she had come to trust Eric, to feel comfortable with him. Now he had somehow figured out her most intimate fantasy and had obviously arranged to make it happen.

"Eric, fantasies are just that, fantasies, unrealities. No one expects them to come true."

"All the more reason to enjoy it when it does," he said as the other man walked up to them.

"Jeanne Conn, Devon Stafford."

She glanced into his eyes and found them warm, absorbing.

"Eric told me you were attractive, but even the words sensuously beautiful could not do you justice," he observed.

"Thank you... Mr. Stafford," she responded, blushing a bit at the compliment.

"Devon, please."

"Thank you Devon"

She looked to Eric who silently urged her on.

"Call me... Jeanne."

"A lovely name for a very lovely woman. May I have this dance?"

Again she looked to Eric who nodded his head in encouragement.

"Why... yes... I'd... love to."

Eric left them as a slow and very romantic song began. She noted that Devon was indeed handsome... and large. He stood just under six feet six and weighed in at two hundred and forty five pounds, all muscle. Her first impression was of a football player, perhaps a running back as there appeared not an ounce of fat on his well conditioned body.

He held her lightly at first, surprisingly light on his feet as he deftly guided her about the floor.

"Eric tells me you like excitement," he commented, looking deeply into her eyes and for the first time she caught a glimpse of eroticism behind his smile.

"I... well yes, but Eric exaggerates."

"Does he? If anything he understated what a beautiful woman you are."

She blushed again.

The music became dreamy and gradually he drew her closer.

"You're not wearing a bra, are you? he whispered in her ear.

"I... no," she stammered.

"I thought I felt your nipples harden when I pulled you closer. I also like the way your body trembled when I put my arms around you."

She thought briefly of pulling away, going back to sit with Eric, but she had to admit to herself she liked the feel of his strong, muscular arms around her. She would enjoy the dance and a little flirtation. After all her heart was already racing, but of course anything else was simply out of the question.

"Are you always this forward with women?" she asked.

"Only when we already know we want the same thing."

"Oh? And what makes you think you know what I want?

"Four things. First, Eric told me you're a married woman looking for excitement. That means just one thing. Secondly, you wouldn't be here dancing with me if you weren't interested and, thirdly, not only your breasts, but your whole body is screaming to be laid..."

She started to interrupt but he kept going.

"... and finally Eric informs me you've never been laid by a Black man. The truth is you're curious. You wonder if the stories you've heard are true, if Black men really are that big, if they really can satisfy you like no one else."

He bent over to her ear to whisper.

"I can't speak for all Black men, but for this one the stories are true."

"Brimming with ego aren't we?" she chided.

"Like Ali once said 'If you can do it, it isn't bragging'."

"How do you know I won't disappoint you?" she asked.

"You're a beautiful woman Jeanne. You've got a body other women would kill for, but what tells me you'll be a tiger in bed is that you're married and looking for it. That kind of woman is always great under the sheets."

"You're that experienced are you?"

"That and more. I've had more White women than I can count. But I don't bed just any woman, Jeanne, White or Black. She's got to have something special. You do. So..."

His hand crept down her back and rested on her buttock, pulling her even closer. She could feel the massive phallus even through his pants and her dress and he wasn't even hard yet. Her heart skipped a beat.

"I... I don't even know you."

"True, but Eric does. Ask him about me. I may be big and strong but I'm no brute Jeanne. I'm a second year law student."

"You look like a football player."

"Defensive back for Arizona State in my undergraduate days."

"Devon, you are handsome and muscular and you seem nice but..."

"Don't blow it," came Eric's voice from over her shoulder. He had seen the conversation from the table, surmised what was happening. "Then again maybe you should," he added, grinning.

"Eric I..."

"Once again, Jeanne, you are faced with the question: should you or shouldn't you? You can walk away, but if you do you walk away from both of us. I'm not interested in a woman who cowers, who's willing to play around the edges but is too frightened to dive in head first. If you can't go for it all, just turn and walk out the door. Go home to your family and spend the rest of your life fantasizing."

He looked at her for the first time with a sternness she had not seen before.

"I'm... I'm frightened," she whispered in Eric's ear as Devon stood back, giving them some room.

"Of course you are. Life is full of chances Jeanne. Could Devon be an ax murderer? Could he be a sadistic rapist? He could be, but he isn't. He and I went through undergrad school together. He's a great guy. Oh, I've seen him in action at a few frat parties. You're going to be walking bowlegged for a few days after he finishes with you, but you'll love every minute of it."

"Can... can we go to your apartment. I'd just feel...

"Sure. Devon, why don't we meet you at my place. Say about half an hour?"

"A half hour it is," said the ex-football player taking Jeanne's hand and kissing it lightly, making her face burn. He started to turn away, then looked back to her.

"Are you wearing panties?"

Again she burned.

"... No," she admitted.

"I didn't think so," he said over his shoulder as he left them on the small dance floor.

"God, Eric, I just don't know..."