Black: queen's bishop's pawn c7>c6

Carolyn O' Malley shared an apartment with a roommate in a beautiful brownstone walkup less than a mile from her job at the Intercolonial Hotel. They only thing she didn't like about the neighborhood--which she would never admit, lest she be considered racist--was the high number of intimidating black men who loitered around her street and her building. They seemed unemployed, as they were generally shabbily dressed, often reeking of ****, and living in a place with few prospects. In fact, for the most part they seemed unemployable, as the few who weren't suffering from addiction and/or mental illness seemed content with low-level **** dealing, thieving, pimping or hustling.

Each morning, Carolyn would emerge from her building dressed for the short jog to work, and each morning, one particular man seemed to be awaiting her on the front step. The first couple of mornings, he would just lean back and smile up at her as she tried to make her way past him (after that, she stopped wearing skirts and now sticks with shorts or at least leggings). Recently, he lets her pass unimpeded, his eyes squinting as he offers her a smile. When she began warily returning the gesture, he would add a comment, like "Hey, Red!" or "Looking good today!" Gradually she started to let her guard down, and realized that if she was fearful of even regular acquaintances, she'd never be comfortable here, and the whole experience would be wasted.

This morning, Carolyn stepped out from out of the door, dressed in sneakers, shorts and a tank top, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her greeter was seated on the stoop, as usual, wearing a stained white vest and corduroy trousers with holes at the knees. His skin was dark, his hair grey and balding. He looked middle-aged, and squinted her a smile, flashing yellow teeth.

"Morning, Red," he greeted her in his gruff tone.

"Top o' the morning," she ventured as she walked down the stairs towards him.

He looked surprised to hear her finally respond, but didn't let the opportunity pass. "Well, that's quite an accent! You're not a southern belle, now are you?"

Carolyn laughed as she reached the sidewalk and turned to face him. "Depends on your frame of reference, I suppose, but I'm not from the North." He stared at her uncomprehendingly, so she added, "I'm from Ireland, sir." She considered starting her jog, but she didn't want to seem rude. "And you're local?"

"All my life," he laughed and nodded. "All my life, miss..."

"O'Malley," she replied. "Carolyn O'Malley."

"All my life, Miss O'Malley," he repeated. "In fact, I can remember a time when a black man addressing a white woman was pretty much grounds for ****. That's how long I been here."

"Oh," Carolyn stammered, unsure how to reply. "That's too bad. Not anymore though, right?"

He laughed. "Well, we don't see too many white women round these parts, Miss O'Malley. Just you and your roommate, most days. But yeah, I reckon now black men are dating white women, fucking white women, giving white women black babies..." He cackled at her discomfort. "You date blacks, Miss O'Malley?"

"Uh, well, I have a boyfriend back in Ireland, actually," she glanced at her watch. "I really should be going to work..."

"Well, that's far away, and a girl like you has needs," he observed, looking her up and down. "Girl like you needs to get fucked. How about you show me them titties?"

"Excuse me?" she gasped in horror, backing away.

"Let me see them white titties, then when you get home, I'll fuck you good," he said, unzipping his pants and pulling a swelling cock out into his fist. "Yeah, I'll fuck the racism right out of you, you little Irish slut."

"I... I'm not a racist," she stammered, her face flush as she watched him stroke his member to its enormous potential. She hesitated a moment, then turned and ran down the street. He called after her, but she didn't hear what he said. She just ran all the way to work.

And now, standing in the shower, her hand stimulating her clitoris, she realized how aroused she was by the ordeal. It was against every shred of rationality in her head, but she had wanted so much to pull up her top, reveal her beautiful breasts as ordered, and then fall to her knees and worship that swollen black cock like the **** of nature it was. The strange man exerted some strange sexual energy on her, and she wanted to obey!