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That led to a strange incident. One Friday afternoon; it was a weekend where we didn't have Desi or any Jamaican girl coming, Brant and I planned a romantic weekend where we were going to show each other what we did last weekend.

That's when our doorbell rang. I answered it wearing a lovely, almost transparent negligee designed to entice Brant, not that I needed to. Standing at the door was a beautiful black woman. "Hi, my name is Felicia, and I heard a rumor that there was a man here, I think his name is Brant, who had a thing for Jamaican women."

She walked passed me, looking for Brant. When she saw him, she put her bag down and started to undress; right in the living room. She was nineteen and looked even younger, and of course Brant couldn't resist, and I couldn't blame him; she was drop dead gorgeous.

Felicia had on only her bra and panties when Brant led her to our bedroom.

I was left standing there. I'd expected a fucking, cocksucking, pussy eating weekend and I was going to get nothing.

I am nothing, if not resourceful. An hour later, I was dressed in a stunning black cocktail dress which showed off just about all my assets, and I was in a cab on my way to Harlem.

In the same bar where we first met Marletta, I found a table, ordered a drink and waited. It wasn't long before I was asked to dance, and there were whispers in my ear. "There's only one reason why a white girl comes into a place like this."

"Really? Why do you think I'm here?"

"You want some big black dick." Over the next hour or so as I danced with numerous men, in the semi darkness of the bar, I heard that or "my tongue can do magic tricks on white pussy," from five or six men.

Those guys were if nothing else blunt.

As for me, while dancing, I intentionally, and they knew it, rubbed my leg or even my hand across their crotch. You know what I was looking for, and they did too.

His name was Gleason. I didn't know if that was his first name or last. He was just Gleason. A half hour ago he'd asked me to dance, and when I rubbed my thigh against his leg, I almost drenched my panties. Damn, it felt big. I danced with other guys, but all the time I was thinking. . . well, you know what I was thinking.

The men who danced with me had been blunt. Now, I was blunt. I walked over to Gleason and asked him to dance. Just liked they'd whispered in my ear, I whispered in his, "you did say, you had a big black dick, didn't you?"

He looked at me and smiled.

"Why don't we leave? I know a perfect place where you can prove it to me."

In the cab, I called my favorite mid-town hotel and reserved a room.

An hour later, I was naked and on my knees. "Jan, you do have a thing for big black dick."

"And, Gleason, you weren't lying when you said you had a big black dick." It was every bit as big as Desmond's. I enjoyed it all Friday night. When I say enjoyed it, you know I mean sucked it.

I spent a lot of time on my knees with Gleason standing over me. It may not seem sexual, but I found it a turn on, when I was fucking his cock with my mouth or he was fucking my mouth, I could feel his big ball sack bouncing against my chin. I liked that.

It was sometime after midnight that Gleason came in my mouth. It was a huge, delicious mouthful. "Damn girl, no one has ever sucked Gleason's

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