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Jerome, and I must say you are one beautiful woman."

"Th-thank you." She was stunned. Back home in Tennessee, this just wasn't done.

Meanwhile, "everyone calls me Freddie." The black woman said as she led Matilda, who was in a fog, to the dance floor.

"I-I-I'm Matty." This black woman, Freddie, was blonde. Matty had never seen anything like it, and it looked natural.

"You might be Matty, but tonight I'm going to call you sweetie." One of Freddie's hands was firmly on Matty's ass. If they were in public, even her husband Max didn't do that when they were dancing. Matty doubted he was as old as her.

"Bessie," Jerome whispered, "I'll bet you came here, hoping that some handsome boy would sweep you off your feet and whisper sweet nothings in your ear." Jerome might have been twenty-five.

"Ummmm."

"I can do that. I'll just bet that under that dress you have the finest, softest titties a man could ever want."

They were dancing slow and cheek-to-cheek, although Bessie tried to make sure there was a little distance between her and this colored man.

"Jerome, please."

"And between your legs," he continued, "I'd almost guarantee that a man couldn't find anything sweeter."

She was shocked. On Saturday nights after she took her weekly bath, Harold would do unspeakable things down there and then tell her how sweet she was. Later, the loving was more than a girl could expect. Sometimes, he'd convince her to do him like that, and sometimes, but only during her monthly she'd accommodate him.

Sunday mornings at church, she couldn't pray hard enough for her sinful ways. Now, her knickers were drenched and she could feel herself leaking uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, "Sweetie, I'm guessing you've never danced with a girl like this." What Freddie meant was romantic dancing. When she was in junior high, the boys were too shy to ask girls to dance. So, girls would dance with each other, but NOT like this.

Freddie, not only had her hand on Matty's ass, she was pressing hard against her breasts. "You sure seem like you've got big ones. I'll bet back home the boys' hands are all over them."

"I'm married."

"I'll bet your husband has a good time with them, but sweetie, I have to tell you, a man can't make a woman feel like a woman can."

Like Bessie, Matilda's knickers were wet. She never thought . . .

That's when Freddie kissed her on the mouth with her tongue.

Jerome and Bessie were still dancing. "Why don't I take you upstairs and we can discuss your sweetness in private?"

"I don't think I'm ready for that. Remember, I'm married."

"If you were happily married and getting everything you wanted, you wouldn't be here. Do I have to whisper in your ear some more?" Like Freddie, he kissed Bessie on the mouth with his tongue, and at the same time, took her hand and placed it on his crotch.

Bessie was stunned by this colored man's brazenness. She was shocked by what she was holding. Her husband Harold, was the only man she'd been with. His was nothing like what she was holding. Surprising, even herself, Bessie, didn't let go.

Instead, she found herself exploring. "That's a good girl. Just imagine how that big piece of meat would feel somewhere else." In the semi-dark Speak-Easy, Bessie and Jerome continued to dance with his hand on her ass and hers on his crotch. She noticed that whatever it was that she was holding was getting bigger and bigger.

Bessie shocked herself. She shocked herself because Jerome was colored; she shocked herself because she was married. She shocked herself by what came out of her mouth. "Jerome, does that offer still stand to take me upstairs?" Later, she'd blame it on the alcohol, but she'd only had one drink, which she hadn't even finished yet.

"I don't know. In my experience, a girl's really got to want it."

Bessie Hawthorne removed her hand from Jerome's crotch. Putting both arms around his neck, she began to grind against him; against his hard cock. At the same time, she pressed her breasts against his chest. "Jerome, I want it." She kissed him on the mouth with her tongue.

Minutes later, Jerome was leading her to his room on the second floor.

TO BE CONTINUED

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