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One morning in bed, she asked Tom, “do you know any of the black prostitutes in Chicago?”

“Ummm Kate, I do, but you know I’m getting all I need right here.” At the moment he was between her legs and had just finished using his tongue. He gave her flaming red bush a kiss and rubbed his face in it.

She giggled, “I know, but I’d like to meet four or five of them. Maybe, they can give me a few ideas to keep our loving exciting.”

That wasn’t the complete truth, but it served her purpose. Tom came up with some names and Kate had him deliver invitations for afternoon tea to a half dozen of them.

Five showed up. The very idea that this white woman would extend such an invitation made them skeptical. “Ladies, this is my friend, Tom. He lives with me.”

There were whispers all around. They didn’t know Tom personally, but around Chicago, they knew why he was called Big Tom. One woman whispered, “so the white lady likes the big dark meat,” and giggled.

A few minutes later that seemed to be confirmed. “Ladies, I’m looking for men; young men.”

“Aren’t we all?” a woman said loudly.

“Young colored men who have a particular attribute.” She held her hands almost a foot apart. “That might be the most important thing.” She laughed. “The bigger, the better.”

Those whores laughed with her and there were giggles, “yes, this old white lady does like the big dark meat.”

“I will pay you 50 dollars for each young colored man you introduce me to who has what I’m look for.” Those women were quiet now. They’d have to spend almost two weeks on their backs or on their knees to make that kind of money.

They were quiet because in their heads they were thinking of their customers. Of course, there weren’t a lot of men who had what Big Tom had, but each woman came up with a few names. “Let Tom know, and I’ll invite them here for a little chat. Ladies, before you think of what I might want with them, I assure you I just want to talk. I get all a girl could ask for from Tom.” She took his hand and smiled.

Those women laughed and giggled. “I’ll bet you do.”

“Dark meat is the best meat,” said another.

“Big, dark neat is even better,” another added.

They agreed, although all of them had white customers who insisted that there was nothing like dark cunny. None of them had ever heard of a white woman who loved colored cock. But if she’d pay 50 dollars . . .

Those women no sooner left than Kate was on her knees. “This is going to be so exciting. You’ll see. Just thinking about it has my cunny juicy.”

Tom had no idea what she had in mind, but once her lips started, and her tongue caressed his cockhead, his mind was elsewhere.

Over the next month those colored prostitutes brought Mrs. Norton two dozen men.

She had a talk with each of them and found six that would serve her purposes. The others were too old, married or too crass for what she was planning.

What was she planning?

She invited those young colored men to live in her mansion. There was plenty of room. She bought them clothes; taught them to dress like

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