My First Time With A Black Man

I know I’m getting into trouble with this one.

USBound was a US citizen working in our city. He reached out one night while I was lazily looking around AM.

USBound: Hi Clara. I see you’re into art. What type of art do you like?

I love it when people ask me questions like this. Not because I’m smart, but it’s one of my passions.

Me: Well…let me tell you about some work I did recently…

We got along really well. USBound had been working here for about ten years and planned to retire here. He was funny, well-spoken, and had good questions.

And yes, he was black. I hadn’t ever dated or slept with anyone that wasn’t a pale tan color. Not because I didn’t want to. No chances before I got married.

We shared pictures. He is a hottie! So cute. He was calling me his babe all the time. I started to laugh every time I read it. It was so dang cute.

We had a chance to meet. I was headed to a party and had an opportunity to leave early enough to meet him for an hour.

We met at a coffee shop about ten minutes from my destination. USBound walked in, recognized me, and did a slow sweep up and down my body. It was so blatant and lusty that I started getting wet just from his stare.

Intense. His playful demeanor was nothing to his intensity. He was fierce and on the prowl. Part of me wanted to be his mate. I had never felt anything like this before.

Primal

We sat in his car and talked for a long while. We kept leaning into each other and started kissing. It was deep and wet and full of that instinct that you want to feel. He felt good.

The cars tightly pack around us. So when his cock made an appearance, I was a little disturbed. He knew I would not give him a blow job in the car. But being in the public eye made it forbidden and dangerous. He felt good, thick, and just right. I am soaking wet by now, and I wanted him.

We reluctantly let each other go for the day. That night, our playful banter went hot as we decided when and where to meet. It might be a few weeks, so we let it go and shared naked pictures of each other to end the night with a bang.

A week later, he texts me asking if I am free on the weekend! He could get away. I had enough days to set up my excuse to be out for the afternoon.

I drove for about a half-hour and met him at a quiet hotel with early bookings. He checked us in, and we quietly made our way inside.

Clothing quickly came off. We kissed deeply and often as hands started running over each other’s bodies.

One thing that I didn’t quite understand was how much stimulation he needed. He mentioned it before during our chats and when I saw him the week prior. But now, in a hotel on a bed, I was starting to get a better idea.

Don’t get me wrong. We had loads of fun. He was intense, attentive, and made me come many times.

I was having a hard time getting him hard and keeping him hard. I always thought I was good at giving head, or at least I’ve heard that from men before.

He was trying to fuck me, to get hard enough to go inside, and it just wasn’t happening. He lay on top of me, and I felt like it was hard to breathe at one point. We needed a break.

And we did. He was happy to lie there and chat with me and for us to talk about anything.

Moving down the bed after a break, he put his mouth on my pussy and started sucking the wind out of me. Everything he did was intense. He started making me cum like a tornado, wild and primal. When he smacked his hand against my pussy in rapid succession, I screamed out my orgasm. It was amazing.

Still, I couldn’t get him to completion. I tried everything I could, with his help and guidance, so that he could come.

I couldn’t do it no matter how much I tried. I don’t know what I did wrong.

Our time was up after that. I grabbed a quick shower, and we went our separate ways. Thinking on the way home, I tried to figure out what I didn’t like about being with him. Something bothered me.

Honestly? I don’t think I was skilled enough. That I wasn’t patient enough, I won’t ever know.

We mutually decided it was not the best fit for us both. Even though we both were so fierce with each other, maybe that was not the touch that that other person craved.

I move so quickly in life and think ten steps ahead so I need someone to help me slow down sometimes. Someone who can help me stop overthinking from time to time.

Sometimes you don’t need the lion in your bed.

Sometimes you need a tamer.

Thank you all for your support and keeping me company on my search for a glass slipper of a man. This story is still being written.