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"Mmmm..." I stretched slowly, feeling that wonderful warmth of being wrapped in sheets and more, of being held by someone.

It was morning, early morning and the windows were grey, and I opened my eyes just long enough to figure that out before closing them again. I didn't want to wake up. I didn't have a hangover, nothing like that, but it had been a long night. A busy night and I was with someone and I couldn't remember his name.

I was like that sometimes, which sounds bad, but it's true. I like boys a lot and this one, oh ... He was white, I remembered that much. A cute white boy to compliment my pretty black body. Black and white inside, that's me and I could feel him behind me, his cock hard and pressing against my ass in his sleep. I liked that feeling and he must have been having his own dreams because every now and again I could feel a little push, a little shake of his hips, and that big hard cock would press a little harder.

"Kylie..." he whispered and his left arm was over my body, his hand on my firm round breast, giving me just a pleasant squeeze, and my nipple was hard already beneath his palm.

Morning sex, I loved it, maybe even more than any other kind, I wasn't sure. I had a vague need to pee, but that could wait. I wanted some coffee and a toothbrush and a hairbrush too, but all of that could wait. His cock was thick and swollen and right there between the round globes of my ass and he was moving now, working it back and forth, playing with my nipple. And I couldn't remember his name and that could wait too.

I moved my leg, my left leg, the top one as I lay on my right side away from him, and he shifted slightly, his steely cock jutting upward and finding my sex already moist for him. Just that quick I was wet and ready, my nineteen year old body always eager it seemed. My dark labia felt thick and greasy and indistinct as that dull round cock worked over and between them, digging a furrow across my sex. He was looking for me, looking for my hole and about to find it, any second, and then he'd push his cock inside and...

"Wait..." I breathed.

"Hmmm?" He wasn't waiting and my left leg was high, bent at the knee with my left foot on my calf, giving him access.

"A condom ... We need a rubber..." I sighed as much as said, and I opened my eyes again, trying to see the nightstand next to the bed, on my side.

Didn't I have condoms there? Three of them, I remembered. I'd had three just for him and, oh, I remember, we'd used them. All of them, three times in one night? That's why I felt so good, so tired and lazy and warm all over. He'd fucked me good the first time, fucked me even better the second, and then later we'd made love. That was the word for it, slow and deliberate sex with all the kissing a girl could want. All the touching and whispers and those happy little orgasms that only come from being loved. He'd given me that and put me to sleep with a smile on my pretty face.

"Please..." He kissed my hair, long and coarse and black, African black with bedhead kinks that would take me an hour to lose.

"Ahhhmmm..." I caught my breath, holding it as I felt his cock pushing inside me, splitting the soft pink folds of my pussy and that was nice.

"Just let me ... Mmmm ... Feel you..." he breathed into my ear, " ... Inside."

"Oh yesssss..." I hissed pushing myself back rocking my hips, just a little, and feeling that big white cock sinking slowly deeper into my unprotected womb.

He'd have to pull out, I knew that I was right in the middle of my cycle, the worst time possible, and a college girl didn't need a baby. A black girl didn't need a white baby. He'd feel me, sure, and make it good for me too, but later, before anything happened, he'd have to pull out. We could do that, I thought, turning my face, morning breath or no. I needed a kiss. I needed some love. I just needed.

He was handsome in that weak light, with his tousled blonde hair and dark eyes. Were they blue? Yeah, but I couldn't tell just then. They were just dark and looking into mine and he kissed me, before washing our faces, or rinsing our mouths, and my tongue was sticky and my lips chapped, and he tasted stale. I liked it though, kissing like that. It's forbidden, you know, kissing a boy you've just met first thing in the morning. A huge turn-off and he'll never love me again, but not this time. He was kissing me back.

Fucking me too, taking me from behind with his cock inside my pussy, working it back and forth just a few inches. Short strokes, with his smooth cockhead staying deep inside me, no risk of coming out, no reason to pull back too far, this felt good enough. Too good and I was sucking his tongue, moaning into his mouth while he pinched my nipple hard, too hard for sunrise, and I gasped and groaned and arched my back against the pleasure of that little pain. I liked it and he knew me now. He knew me intimately, like in the bible he knew me, like he'd fucked me three times and now he was doing it again.

"Fuck me..." I breathed and I wanted it so bad.

"I am." He smiled and kissed me again. "I'm fucking you good now, you feel so good around my cock, Kylie."

He knew that too, how I liked to hear all those words. All the dirty ones, the bad ones, the worst ones coming from his lips. I couldn't remember his name and he knew all my secrets, making me move my small black ass in tight little circles, thrusting my pelvis back and forth, squeezing my thighs and tummy and looking for the little muscles in my cunt. I was squeezing his cock, working it with my sex like I was milking him for my breakfast.

"My pussy is hungry." I giggled, for no other reason than my orgasm was coming and it made me silly.

"I'll feed you, Kylie." He was breathing a little harder, moving smooth and working that cock back and forth in a gentle rhythm. "Give your slutty little pussy something to eat, baby."

"Yeah ... Hmmm..." I kissed him. "Feed my nigger cunt with your cock."

"My big white cock?" he teased, moving, pulling at me and sliding his other arm beneath me.

"Yeah..." I moaned, blinking hard as my sex began to tremble, the good feelings getting to be too much. "Big ... White ... Hmmm..."

He was rolling me onto him as he went on his back, pulling me so I could ride him with my back against his smooth chest, lying atop and along his white body. My legs were spread, the sheets twisted around me like a python, constricting and annoying and I might have kicked and tried to loose myself, but his fingers were on my tummy. And then his fingers were lower, finding my sex, rubbing my hard little clit and making me thrum all over. I was grinding my ass against him, riding his cock now, feeling his fingers playing across our sloppy union.

I was cumming and so wet and hot, the juices spilling out of me as I fucked that hard white cock into my body, into my womb. He was incredibly hard, the way men are in the morning and it was taking him a long time to cum and I didn't mind that at all. I was shaking all over, my body hot and damp now with sweat. I was playing with my tits, digging my fingers into my skin, pushing them together because it felt too good not to. He held me with one arm around my taut belly, the other rubbing my clit, making me cum and cum again.

We were moving again, somewhere in the middle of my orgasm, he was moving us once more and I didn't protest at all. I didn't care so long as his cock stayed inside me. It was awkward and clumsy, like sex is, and those stupid sheets wouldn't let me go and then I groaned, on my hands and knees as his cock went even deeper than before. He was kneeling behind me, holding my hips and pushing hard into my sex, finding the deepest parts of my hungry hole. I felt stretched suddenly and I pushed myself back, smelling our thick musk in the air, tasting our fuck in my open mouth as I panted for air. I was weak and dropped my head to the mattress, giggling and moaning for more. My ass held high, my pussy open and clasping around him, massaging that beautiful white cock with a will of her own.

"Jesus, Kylie! Fuck you're good ... You beautiful bitch..." His voice was everything I wanted, soft and close and dirty.

"Yes! Uh-huh ... Uh-huh ... Fuck me! Oh God..." I was cumming again and he was there suddenly, without warning and I felt it. "Wha..."

"Fuck!" He gasped, slamming his cock so hard inside me that it hurt, knocking the air out of me as he hit the bottom of my cunt.

"No ... Stop ... Fuck!" I pulled myself off, practically jumping forward, my orgasm all but forgotten as my feverish mind caught up with what I was feeling. His cock spurting inside me, all the way inside too, right there against my cervix.

"Shit ... Kylie..." He was still cumming, his cock now free of me, shooting onto my ass and thighs and the bed beneath us.

"You were supposed to pull out!" I practically yelled, turning and yanking at the sheets angrily, sitting down and spreading my legs, spreading my pussy lips with my fingers. I was hot inside, pink and red and open. Milky juices were running from me, but it was thin and I knew his real sperm was somewhere further inside me.

"Sorry. Fuck, it felt too good." He looked at me sheepishly.

"That's so uncool, fuck!" I frowned and got up, going to find the bathroom and wash him out. "I can't believe you ... Fuck! I'm not protected!"

My morning was ruined. All the good thoughts and feelings vanished like they never happened. I should have known better, I thought, I shouldn't have trusted a boy. Don't trust boys. Everyone said it and I forgot. Fuck! I used the sink, lifting one long brown leg and balancing on the other, scooping water into my hand, digging my fingers inside as far as I could reach. He'd been way up in there, and I tried pushing and spreading my fingers like I might stretch my pussy enough to let gravity pull it out of me.

I was always careful, so why this? Why me? Godammit!

He was gone when I came out of the bathroom, like the coward he was, and I still didn't remember his name. Maybe I'd never known it. I'd met him at a party and he'd been cute and funny and oh, so white. I like white guys, the way some black guys liked white girls. I like white boys. It was my secret, the one I kept from my parents who would never understand such a thing. I'd gone on one date, in 11th grade with a white boy who'd asked me to the junior prom, and it was like the world was ending. The worst night of my life, when he'd rang the doorbell and my father had seen a white boy standing there with a corsage. I hadn't warned my parents.

Now I had the worst morning of my life to go with it. Another happy memory for the Kylie scrapbook. I'd never, ever fucked a guy without a condom before. Even when I knew I wasn't ovulating, I was just careful. I didn't want to catch anything, not a baby, not a disease. I was too smart for that, right? Fuck. Why did sex have to feel so good? Why had I let the guy spend the night? Why hadn't I had four condoms instead of just three? Why, why, why ... And a guy I didn't know. Perfect. I couldn't even call him and yell a little more, because that's exactly what I felt like doing. Yelling.

I brushed my hair instead, after my shower, after my coffee, after washing my cunt, and still convinced I could feel him swimming around in there. I brushed my hair, thinking I should get another perm, get it straightened because if I didn't I'd have an Afro the size of a basketball and I hated that. I brushed my hair for therapy, looking for some normalcy. I wasn't going to get pregnant. I was too pretty for that. Bad things didn't happen to pretty people, only the ugly ones ... Yeah, right.

I was making up my face when my roommate found me, knocking on the door and she'd been out all night because I'd had a man over. We were careful that way, with our plans and signals and little favors as we took our turns. The apartment was too small to be otherwise and Karen and I suited each other. I wish she'd been home, maybe I wouldn't have fucked what's his name one last time if I'd known Karen was in the next room. Maybe.

"So?" She grinned at me, not suspecting a thing. "How was he?"

"Okay," I said, leaning close to the mirror and putting on some eye shadow. Not a lot, it was barely eight in the morning after all and I was only going to my classes.

"Just okay?" Karen sounded like she didn't believe me and she came into the bathroom, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. "That guy was seriously hunky dory!"

"Hunky dory? How would you know anyway?" I almost laughed. "He was more like hunky dopey."

"What's wrong?" Karen wondered and she knew now that something was up. She brushed some blonde hair from her blue eyes, tucking it behind her ears as she leaned forward to get the scoop.

"He didn't use a condom." I shrugged, looking at my heart shaped face, my soft brown eyes and pursing my lips.

I have full lips, but not fat swollen lips like my dad, thank God. And my nose is small, almost pert, and not too wide. I'm rather proud that I look a little less black than most of my family, but only in the face, the rest of me is dark, dark brown. I'm proud of that too. I like being black, I just really don't want to look like a Mrs. Bubba, you know?

"What? You mean he wouldn't?" She narrowed her eyes and she knew I always had some because I really liked to have fun. So did Karen. College was a lot like Disneyland for us, but the rides were a lot better.

"No, he did." I looked at her. "We ran out. I only had three."

"Only three?" Karen asked, sticking her tongue out at me. "God! How many times did you do it?"

"One too many." I sighed. "This morning. I got off him as soon as I felt it, but ... I don't know. It didn't seem like I got a lot of it out of me."

"Well, how much could there be?" She rolled her eyes. "Four times is a lot for a man, isn't it? The guy probably didn't have anything left in the tank."

"There was a lot on my ass," I said. "I don't know. You think I need one of those morning after pills?"

"I don't know, maybe." Karen shrugged. "But where are you going to get one? You have to find a pharmacy."

"The Snyder's is open." I bit my lip. "I got class though and..."

"Don't look at me, I got classes too."

"It was just a little, right?" I asked her. "I mean as soon as I felt him cumming, I..."

"I don't know, Kylie." Karen laughed. "I wasn't there."

"Shoot." I grabbed some lipstick.

"I told you to go on the pill, remember?" Karen said, being sort of an I-told-you-so person.

"Yeah, and the doctor said I was hypersensitive, remember?" It was my turn to roll my eyes.

"And then I suggested a diaphragm..."

"Ugh..." I put on my lipstick quickly, losing interest in being beautiful for a stupid humanities class. "If we're using condoms anyway, why should I have to fool around with other stuff, like diaphragms and risk cancer or something."

"You're not going to get cancer from a diaphragm," she retorted. "Fix your lipstick, you smudged it. Besides, condoms only work if you use them. Duh!"

"Duh!" I sighed, wiping my lips clean with a tissue and trying again.

"Skip class, go get a pill if it's gonna stress you out," Karen said, looking at her watch. "I gotta get going."

"He was a white guy," I said, mostly to myself. "A black baby I'd just be in a lot of trouble, but a white one..."

"Go get the pill, stop worrying, and buy like a case of condoms." She kissed my cheek. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"Yeah. Bye." I tried to smile back at her, but it wasn't in me.

I decided I'd go to the drugstore during lunch, since it was a 'morning after pill' I had a lot of time, right? Twenty-four hours? I thought so, otherwise they would have called it something else. The 'five minute later pill' or something. I had to go to my classes, my grades weren't that good anyway and if nothing else I'd score some attendance points or something, I hoped. College was turning out to be a lot harder than I'd expected, but I hadn't expected to be going out five nights a week and staying up until three in the morning having sex with guys whose names I couldn't remember. Fuck! That still bothered me. I wasn't nearly that bad normally.

Lunch came and went because I'd gotten involved with some girls I knew who were rushing a sorority because it was that time of year. They wanted me to go with them, check it out and meet some other girls and, blah blah blah ... It was fun. I had a good time and seriously thought about joining one, and somewhere in the middle of all that socializing I told myself the drugstore would be open in the afternoon. I had time.

More classes, more brain pain and notebooks filled with scribbled notes as I leaned forward, cocking my head so I could understand all that mumbling from the podium. Why do professors mumble? Is it like a rule or something? You can't get tenure if your students can actually understand a word you're saying? And what was with that guy smiling at me, tall and blonde ... God, blonde guys. I have a fixation, a fetish, and his eyes were bottle green so I smiled back. I'd seen him before and he'd seen me and we were playing the game.

"Hey, Kylie, right?" He caught me in the stampede to get out of the lecture hall.

"Hi, yeah." I really had to look up at him, which is nice. I'm five eight and he was half a foot taller which seemed almost perfect.

"I'm Sam." He had a nice smile like he'd paid for some dentist and his family to have a nice vacation. I loved Sam's smile. "I was just thinking about getting some coffee, a little pie maybe and..."

"At Mayfair?" I smiled. "Sure, let's go."

That's how much of a fight I put up, which is to say none at all. But Mayfair was this little coffee place with the best pies in the world, except for the ones mom makes, you know. Some tart green apple pie to go with Sam's green eyes? Oh yeah, this was what I needed and that drugstore would be open all night, probably. Lots of time and I probably wasn't pregnant anyway. He'd cum three times already and number four had to be weak, right? And it was just one or two spurts before I'd pulled off him. Most of the man's sperm had landed on my little black butt. I wasn't pregnant anyway, I knew that, I was just stressing and really, it was ten hours later and I couldn't worry about anything that long. Not with Sam's smile blinding my eyes.

"You don't look like a Sam," I decided, eating my pie slow because I really wanted it to last.

"Oh yeah?" He rolled his head. "You look exactly like a Kylie."

He had the excuse to look me over as I sat there, taking in my large breasts, 34C's that look bigger actually because my body is on the thin and narrow side, not skinny, just lean and mean and athletic. I have a great body, thanks to my genes, a flat tummy and small waist, narrow hips and shoulders, but they go well with my firm round ass and long legs. All my height comes from my legs and I liked to wear clothes to show them off, short skirts like the one I was wearing. I showed off my tits too, brazenly at times, but on this day I was mildly discrete with a beige sweater and even a bra, although I hardly needed one really. I'm firm all over.

Sam was firm too. College guys, Jesus, there ought to be a law. And he was broad shouldered and narrow waisted and I'd gotten a look at his ass, it was fine like the rest of him. I love checking out guys from behind. Some of my other friends went right for the guy's front, you know, looking for a hint of what he was hiding down there, but for me it was all ass, baby. Fine white ass too, white guys like I said. I don't know why, I only know ... My Prince Charming, the man who would sweep me off my feet someday, he'd be a white guy. I knew that from the time I was a thirteen year old kid in cornrows.

Maybe even Sam, because despite the name, he had a lot of potential and I was trying really hard not to screw it up.

"I hope that's good." I giggled softly, looking down and then back up playfully.

"It's really good, Kylie," he said, and he was going to say my name every chance he got now. "It's a beautiful name."

"Do you think people grow into their names?" I asked, accepting the compliment without dwelling on it, I hoped. "I mean, if my parents had named me Bertha..."

He laughed at that and shook his head.

" ... Do you think I'd look different?" I took a little bite of my pie, just a nibble.

"I wouldn't even guess, Kylie." Sam licked his lips and his hand was touching mine, just that easy, his fingers stroking lightly across my skin.

Later I glanced down the street. The drugstore was three blocks away in one direction, the campus two blocks in the other. I should have said something, made an excuse. I needed to run an errand, I'd say, buy some aspirins or something. Pick up some film I was getting developed, anything just so I'd have an excuse to buy that stupid pill I probably didn't need. But Sam wasn't leaving me alone and I didn't want him to. He was holding my hand now, we'd gotten that far over coffee and pie, hand holding, and if I said I was going to the Snyder's he'd want to walk with me. I wasn't going to ask for a morning after pill in front of him, no way. Never in a hundred gazillion years.

"Walk me home?" I asked him instead, and that was what he wanted to hear, or some of it anyway.

"Of course," he agreed and we walked away from the drugstore.

Sam's hand was warm and dry, like he wasn't nervous at all, and we talked about little things, unimportant things. School and family and where we came from and where we wanted to go. The thrill for me, a very real one, was just holding his hand as we walked down the street. It's such a little thing, but one that I'd never been allowed in my former life, living at home and going to high school. Holding a white man's hand in public, walking close with our hips touching from time to time. Anyone could see us and nobody cared. It was a college district and we were all free and open and beyond the little things like racism.

You have no idea how intoxicating that is for someone like me who grew up being told to be black all the time. Not just in my skin, but in my view of the world. Stay in your place, stay in your race. Find a black boyfriend, have black babies, watch out for white people. God! I hated my parents sometimes, or not them, but just that part of them and I didn't understand it and now I was free of it. Sam didn't know how that felt, none of my white friends did because white people didn't grow up in Minneapolis being the minority, looking around at the eligible boys and seeing forty white faces for every one that was black. White parents didn't tell their sons to watch out for black girls because it would never occur to them, and they wanted to be better than that anyway.

That was the problem with my parents. They didn't.

"Have you ever had a black girlfriend?" I asked, and it was a question I always asked at some point, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but I was always curious.

"No." He shrugged. "You think I'm with you because you're black?"

"I didn't say that." I smiled, but it was always a possibility.

"Maybe I am," Sam said seriously, and I looked up sharply. "I mean, I can't imagine you being anything else."

"I'm a lot of things before I get to black," I told him. "I'm a woman. I'm a daughter and a sister. I'm a college student..."

"I know."

" ... I'm a human being," I told him without any anger or sarcasm. "Black is pretty far down on my list, I think."

"And me being white? That doesn't have anything to do with it?"

"I can't imagine you any other color." I giggled and gave him a little hip check.

"So, what's the difference if I love you because you're black..."

I started opening my mouth.

" ... and a woman, and beautiful and a sister and ... What?"

"Did you say you love me?" I grinned at him.

"Like ... I said what if I 'like' you..."

"Noooo..." I shook my head. "You said love, I heard it. That must have been some serious pie."

"It was hypothetical." Sam chuckled softly. "You know what I meant."

"Just hypothetical?" I sighed. "Now you're teasing me."

He wasn't in love with me, I knew that. I wasn't in love with Sam either, but the feeling was there, the warm glow inside, the tightness that I loved when my stomach would knot up and my skin flushed warm. It wasn't love, but it was the promise that maybe, possibly it could happen. I wasn't stopping it. I wasn't putting up any stop signs, I was wide open to whatever Sam could make me feel and I had that wonderful curiosity, the delicious anxiety of not knowing what was coming.

"Hmmm..." We'd stopped on the sidewalk in front of my apartment, the upstairs of an old house that I shared with Karen.

"I had a nice time, Kylie," Sam said and he was facing me now, hands innocently by his sides, our bags over his shoulders and he slipped mine off, handing it to me.

"Me too." I smiled and it was only a little after five, the sun wasn't even down yet and I had to study and do some homework, and let Karen talk me into going out, and somehow find my way to the drugstore before it closed, and...

"Would you like to come in?" I offered, blowing everything out of the water like a nuclear bomb.

"Uh, sure." He nodded, like what else was he going to do.

"I have a room at the freshman dorm," I explained needlessly, trying to hide my nervousness, "but I like the privacy here a little better."

"Yeah, I bet." He followed me up the stairs. "Is your roommate home?"

"I dunno." I shrugged, digging through my purse for my keys. "Karen comes and goes, we get along really good."

"Kylie..." We were standing on the small landing I felt Sam's hands on my hips and I turned my head at his whisper.

He kissed me then, his soft lips on mine and it was gentle at first, becoming harder as I turned my body into it, forgetting my keys and sighing as this was desired as much as unexpected. I let his tongue slip into my mouth and I found myself putting my arms around the man's neck. He was a good kisser, a great kisser, and his tongue was quick and agile and darting across my own like a feather. I moaned and shivered, feeling my body come alive for him. I'd been so quiet, so patient and all the while I'd been coiled like a spring inside. I wanted this as badly as Sam did and part of my mind warned me, the way it always does, but I ignored it, the way I always do.

"I'm sorry," he breathed a minute later, a long minute by the reckoning of my heartbeat. "I know we just met and..."

"I'm not," I told him, denying the voice in my head, the one that told me I was being a slut. I was being too easy for the man. He wasn't going to respect me if I was this eager, this willing to put out.

I was this easy though and probably a slut, if by that you meant I was willing to decide within an hour or two if I was going to sleep with a man. I'd long since made up my mind about Sam and the smart thing, the best thing would have been to wait, to stretch it out over a week or two, or longer maybe if it was a serious thing. If it was love, oh what a word! If it was that, I should have waited a long, long time. But who was I fooling? Sam was white and so there was an immediacy to my desire, like I might never get him like this again. A silly, irrational thought, I know, but there all the same. I wanted him and I had to have him before my parents could take him away.

I kissed him again, just to prove it, and Sam didn't try and play the gentleman anymore. He wanted me just as badly and his mouth was hot and wet for my tongue as I took him forcefully, pressing my body against his so that I could feel his arousal pressing against my tummy. Sam was hard for me, his cock trapped safely away, but aching to be loosed and loved. That was a real pleasure for me, to be desired, and I sighed into his mouth when Sam's hands found my ass, cupping me through my skirt and I pressed my hard nipples against his chest, hating the layers of clothing between us.

Karen wasn't home and we left a trail of clothing from the front door to my bedroom. I hadn't even changed the sheets from the morning and the night before. I hadn't made my bed or tried to disguise the evidence of my recent sex with my unnamed lover. If Sam noticed or cared about any of that he gave me no sign of it. He was putting me on that stained bed smelling of sex with another man, both of us naked now. His white body was smooth and firm and beautiful, and his green eyes traveled over my flesh happily. We were pleased with each other, finding our physical attraction undiminished the way it sometimes is when people get naked for the first time. There was nothing to dislike about Sam and I was pulling him to me, to join me on my bed.

He kissed my breasts first, going to my nipples which felt painfully cold. My skin was hot, but my nipples cold and black and swollen fat and long. I cradled the man's head, urging him to bite me and suck my turgid flesh hard, harder! I liked it rough like that, my tits ached and they hurt with desire and only more pain would make them feel good. Chew them, I whispered, squeeze my tits and bite them. I was kissing his head, his soft blonde hair, arching my back to push my tits against his sucking mouth.