The Fling

"Damn, this is a nice fuckin' house you have here," Tave said. The jacked Black youth looked around the palatial mansion. Elizabeth smiled.

"Thanks Tave. Just been a bit empty of late," Elizabeth added sadly.

"Word? What happened to your old man?" Tave asked. They hadn't developed a personal connection beyond admiring stares. Elizabeth took the moment to unburden herself, telling the youth about Douglas and Moses and Abe. She overshared, she knew, but there was nothing like a **** woman to make a man feel strong and wanted.

"Hey, it's okay," Tave said, cradling her face. "Look, I ain't gonna settle down. But I am up for some fun, you know what I'm saying?"

Elizabeth smiled at the Black 18 year-old. "I'd like some fun, yes. I need some fun."

He was like a sculpted god, all muscle and cock, his hair short. She took her time worshiping him, even his feet and his ass. God, she missed a Black man in her bed she thought. She was like a rag doll for him. When it came time to fuck, he merely picked her up, planting her on his cock, treating her like a mere plaything, bouncing her up and down at his leisure.

"Why the fuck your name Castle-Jones, anyhow?" he asked when they finished.

"Oh. Well, Castle is my maiden name. But Moses wanted me to keep it because my ancestors were slaveowners. And his were ...well ... their slaves."

"No shit?" Tave said. He didn't want a girlfriend, but he could have some plans for this bitch, he thought.