I was laying on my bed, thighs splayed, experiencing the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had in my life. They came in waves, with the first being a tsunami. My abdomen cramped violently, and there were loud grunts that these convulsions elicited from me, then I'd lie sweating in flash after flash of mind shattering after shocks. All brought on by my bedroom fantasies of Toni.
Janet: God, what is she doing to me,
I wondered, lying on my bed with a sheen of sweat covering me, occasionally wracked by another after shock. I had become almost compulsive in my need to masturbate thinking of this beauty, up to several times a day now. The orgasms I achieved, just imagining being with her, were far beyond anything that any man had ever been able to bring me remotely close to. I wished that weren't true. I desperately preferred the image of myself as the All-American girl next door...the image I had lived right up until my eyes had met Toni's, just days before. But I knew it was no longer a true image. I wanted—I lusted—this fantastic black creature more than anything in my life. I knew I'd do anything now—including risking my marriage—to have her, and her beautiful black flesh, in my arms—or between my thighs. The morning of my date with Toni, I found myself naked, combing my hair in my bedroom mirror. In a reverie of Toni, I watched my breasts swing freely as I brushed my long hair. I wondered what they might feel like with Toni's lips sucking on them, softly biting my protruding nipples, which were hard and stiff fantasizing in this way about her. Suddenly my husband, Andy, stepped into the mirror's image. Placing his hands gently on my shoulders, he leaned over, kissed my neck, and whispered,
Andy: So beautiful.
As he walked away, I felt ashamed, but my body shuddered. He was now the interloper, the intruder, on my reverie of Toni. I can't explain it, but I felt he'd somehow defiled me in preparing myself for the real love of my life, this radiant Jamaican creature I now adored more than him—Toni Braxton. At work, I began to notice that Toni had a bevy of young girls who hung around her office just as I did. A pang of jealousy sprung up in me. I wondered if they too were her dates...or even more. I felt confident I could win her from any 'competition,' though. I had always done so with the men I'd set my sights on. With this in mind, I stopped in her office doorway, leather mini and all, to say, "hi" and ask some contrived question—but really to command her attention from the other 'admirers' flitting about.
Janet: Toni, could I ask a quick question,
I said confidently to the tall, black beauty. I'd caught Toni on the phone. She wheeled around in her chair, and, somewhat brusquely, replied,
Toni: Sorry sweetheart, I'm busy now. I'll have time for you later, perhaps.
Then she spun back around again and continued with her conversation. She hadn't even noticed my skirt. I flushed red and felt foolish. As I walked away, I could see some of the other girls had witnessed this casual brush off and were smiling slightly—even giggling—as I had to leave her office—dismissed! Strangely, when I got back to my desk, instead of being furious with her, I wanted her even more. It was as if I desperately wanted to prove myself to her. For the rest of the day, all I could think about was this beautiful, powerful personage I had fallen so desperately in love with...in such a short time. I couldn't wait to be with her that evening. My thoughts that day were of all the men who had pursued me over my high school and college years. I'd felt idolized as Captain of the Cheerleading Team and as Homecoming Queen. I remembered being voted "Class Beauty" in high school, and posing for the picture in my yearbook, with envious girls and admiring boys all looking on. I was always the one being pursued. But now that had all changed. I was now the nervous one, the one who hoped they could... 'measure up'. I sat at work wondering, "Will she like me tonight? Am I good enough for her?" I worried I might not be. We drove to the restaurant in Toni's Jag with the top down. We must have been a sight to see. A tall black woman, closely cropped, and her young, longhaired, 'friend'. Toni wore a short dress that showed off her long black legs. I wore the black, leather mini and a low cut black top. When we arrived at the restaurant the young, black parking attendants couldn't believe their eyes. These two gorgeous opposites arriving, seemingly, as a couple. After we got out of the car, I came around to Toni's side and she leaned over for a kiss. I responded with a quick kiss on her full lips and we entered the restaurant, hand-in-hand, leaving the parking attendants slack jawed. When we were shown to our table, Toni led me through the restaurant by the hand. Old businessmen's heads swiveled as they watched us, wide-eyed and open mouthed. Soon they were buzzing and whispering to each other as they pointed in our direction. I never felt so proudly displayed as I did holding Toni's hand and being pulled through the lounge area, all eyes on me. As has so often happened in the past, my body responded to all this attention and my breasts swelled, with my nipples protruding to obscene proportions. I'm sure the men could all see my body's heightened arousal while being in the companion of the statuesque Jamaican who played the role of the dominant partner. We were seated at a somewhat hidden booth around a corner in the back of the restaurant. Shortly after being seated, Toni's long fingers began to stroke my bared thigh as she casually reviewed the menu. I felt very much in the presence and command of a sort of superior being. I tried to deny it to myself, but I felt 'lucky' to be the woman seated along side her this evening. Soon her fingers were gliding high along my inner thigh and approaching the thin veil of my panties. I gently closed my thighs to restrict access, if for no other reason than common decency in such a public place. This slight move drew a look of reproach from Toni:
