For Each Other

She was sitting at a table in the Student Union reading THE ODYSSEY, when she heard directly next her, "Hey." Alison looked up.              

The boy - young man, really, she was in college now - was so handsome he was almost beautiful. He was black, with dark brown skin, full lips, and dark, piercing eyes. And he was physically imposing - not large, lanky, about'5'10, and through his tight tee shirt and narrow-waisted jeans she saw corded muscle.

"Hey," said Alison nervously. He sat down.

"I'm Jamal," he said.

"I'm Alison-," she started to reply and then shook her head. "I didn't ask you to sit down."

He grinned lazily and tilted his head, and Alison's belly did a little flutter - this was the most sexually appealing man she'd ever been near. It was disturbing.

"I know. I just wanted to say that I saw you sitting here, reading, and I like the way you look. I thought maybe we could hang out? Let me buy you a coffee?"

"Not interested," she replied, although she was very interested. She was scared by how interested she was. He held up his hand.

"Okay, no problem," he said, and stood up. "But I'm here until the weekend - first game of the year we fly in mid-week." A football player - wonderful, just what she needed.

"I despise football," she said.

"Liking it isn't in the job description," he replied.

"Job description?" Alison said, louder, and started to rise from table. "What job would that be?"

Jamal raised his hands in surrender. "My bad. Poor joke." Alison sat back down, glaring at him. "Look, I'll make sure to hang out here," he continued, and gestured at the Student Union, "As much as I can after practice. I won't walk up to you again. But if you're interested in a temporary connection, you just come up to me, okay?

He tipped an imaginary hat at her, gave her that smile again, and walked away.

==

Alison dreamed. She was standing with her back to some nameless, formless wall, with Jamal in front of her. They were both naked; his body was hard muscle, his shoulders were broad and his waist was narrow. She gasped as he grabbed her hands and pulled them up above her head, holding her wrists together and pinning them against the wall while pressing her with his body. She twisted and couldn't move; he was so strong. She craned her neck and he kissed her collarbone and then her shoulder. Her belly flared hot with desire and she parted her legs; he continued to hold her up as his hips moved between her thighs and she felt his hardness against her--

She sat up in bed, breathing heavily, and glanced to her right at the empty bed in her double-room. Luckily her roommate Cynthia, who was a D1 soccer player, was out of town for an away game. Alison laid back down and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Then she moved the covers off her, pulled her nightgown up, and slid two fingers into her wet sex. The feeling from her dream returned - her arms pinned above her, Jamal pressed against her, restraining her, and her willingly opening her legs, accepting his hardness, eager for it. "Oh!" she said out loud. "Ohhh! Ahha!"

**

Alison had a boyfriend in high school, a great guy named Barton. At eighteen, early in their senior year, they had been each other's firsts, and it had been wonderful. And so she'd had a regular sex life as a very young adult. But last night... She had never orgasmed like that, ever. Her orgasms with Barton had been good, sometimes great, but last night she had come harder than she ever had before. So... wantonly.

So now she sat in the Student Union, her laptop open in front of her, staring across the room at Jamal as he sat with his back to her at another table, with (presumably) two of his teammates. The teammates were talking and laughing and Jamal was reading something, his head bowed.

Is this who I am? Is this who I want to be?

She continued to look at him as he read - the breadth of his shoulders, the strength there. Her mind flashed back to the dream, how good it felt to be... powerless. It was weird. Some part of her thought there was an erotic rightness in it, and that was crazy. She believed in her own strength, in her independence. Am I a hypocrite?

She sighed, closed her laptop, and slipped it into her backpack. She walked across the room, her backpack over one shoulder, and walked up to the trio at the bar. "You ready?" she said to Jamal, meeting his eyes directly. He smiled.

"Sure am," he replied, rising from his seat. He picked up some papers on the table in front of him and handed them to one of his friends. "I see what you mean, Jimmy, but you just listed what happened. Find the theme, explain it, and show the prof you understood what you read. We'll talk on Monday." He turned to Alison. "Let's go."

**

The motel was on Highway 20; it had taken them ten minutes to get there in her car - she wasn't going to get in his car; she was nervous and scared as it was. She pulled into the parking lot and he ran into the front office, and then exited a few minutes later, key in hand.

"What took so long?" she asked as he got back in the car.

"He wanted to make sure I didn't rob the place," he snapped, annoyed, and then saw her startled expression. "I'm sorry, it's not your fault. I just hate that shit when I run into it. Shouldn't be a surprise but it always is."

She drove down the parking until they were in front of their room. Now they were standing in the room, with its single queen-sized bed; it was clean, but bare. Sterile somehow. Suddenly she didn't feel sexual at all - she felt like the inexperienced nineteen year old girl she was. Jamal bent his head and looked at her, and she glanced away.

"Nervous, huh?" he said. "You a freshman?"

"Yes," she replied softly, still not looking.

"Okay," he replied. "We don't have to do anything. Let's sit on the bed and talk." Yes, talking would be less scary. Talking was fine. She sat on the bed, still not meeting his eyes and he sat beside her. After a moment he said "You know, I'm from St. Louis."

She looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm from somewhere and you're from somewhere, and both of us are people, with lives and stuff going on. But it's okay to take a few hours and just be sexual with someone who wants the same thing. That's fine. Doesn't make us bad people, as long as we're on the same page."

"I... guess." She was starting to relax.

"Also," he said. "The elephant in the room."

"What?"

He put his arm down on the bed. "If you want, put your arm here next to mine." She did.

"White and black," he said. "For both of us, a bit of the taboo. The forbidden, the different. Ain't going to turn away from it - it's part of the excitement. The same for you?"

She took a moment. "Yes," she finally said, softly.

"I tell you what," he continued. "I thought about sex with you and you wouldn't be here if you didn't think about it with me, right?"

"... Yes."

"So I'll tell you something I imagined, and you tell me something you imagined. I don't mean, like a deal, you can not tell me anything. But I'll go first and you decide what you want to say."

"Okay."

"First, not gonna lie, I imagined your body. You got a rocking body, nice boobs and a great ass." She blushed at the crudely stated compliment. "But what I imagined was sliding my hand up your shoulder, behind your head, and holding you by the hair, and you liking it, arching backward, and then me kissing your neck. When you were studying and I saw you, you tilted your head to one side, and I imagined that." He grinned. "And then I imagined other things, but that's how it started."

Could she say this? Maybe she could just start. "I thought... I thought about you pressing up against me, up against... Oh God this is difficult!" Jamal just waited, open. "Up against a wall. Holding... holding my arms above my head."

Jamal was momentarily startled, she could see, and then he thought about it. "Okay," he said. "I'd love to do that. Sounds like you imagined me a bit aggressive."

"Yes," she replied, surprised she admitted it so easily. Then there was a weird silence in the room, weird because it was both unknown but oddly comfortable. It stretched on.

Then Alison reached out and ran a hand up his arm. Their eyes met. He slowly reached across and ran the back of his hand up her cheek, gently scraping his knuckle's across the skin.

"The magic word is 'stop'," he said. She just nodded, and then turned toward him. He did just what he said he would and moved his hand around the back of her neck, and gripped the bottom portion of her hair tightly, pulling her head back. Her pelvis thrummed with a building heat. Her blouse had snaps and she reached up with both hands and pulled it open, the snaps popping.

He let go, leaned back, and took off his tee shirt in one swift movement - God that was hot. His muscles, his slenderness, his darkness was so compelling. She whipped off her shirt and pulled her bra over her head, not even bothering to unsnap it. Jamal's eyes widened at the sight of her breasts. She reached out and ran her hands across his chest and shoulders, following their contours. His body was so strong, so hard...

Jamal raised his own hands and she pushed her chest out toward him. "Go ahead," she said. She'd never been this forward with Barton; she'd always agreed, or not, as he suggested things. Jamal reached out and caressed her left breast. She brought up her own hand, grabbed his wrist, and moved his open palm roughly across her nipple.

Ohhh... Yesss...

Taking initiative, he put his left hand on the nape of her neck and ran his hand up to her chin. He gently gripped her jaw in the palm of his left hand, his look smoking. She looked directly into his eyes and nodded. His grip tightened.. "Yes," she said, and he gripped her harder, forcing her head back. Yes, this was so right. So right. She smiled through his grip on her jaw. "Jamal" she said through clenched teeth. "Slap my tits." He grinned and slapped across her breasts with an open hand, the slap actually making a sound.

Ohhh, God! Uhhh! The blow stung as sudden heat coursed through her body, and she could actually feel herself soaking her panties with arousal - something that had never happened before. Where was this coming from? Who was she? She'd never called her breasts tits before. He pushed her over onto the bed, and as he stood and reached for his belt buckle, she decided she didn't care.

She laid back, kicked off her sneakers, undid her own jeans, arched, and then pushed them down to her ankles along with her panties. She threw them aside and when she sat back up, Jamal was naked.

He was an adonis. Sculpted, long muscles in his arms; a flat hard chest; six-pack abs; a narrow waist and oh, that cock. Omigod, it stood up straight and slightly curved, at least eight inches, and so thick! Jamal stepped forward with an evil smile, and leaned over her. "I'm thinking some nasty things," he said. "But I think you might be nastier."

She smiled and he leapt upon her, and they rolled across the bed, laughing. He kissed her, and their tongues explored each other, and oddly after the 'nastier' comment, the scorching sexual feelings receded slightly to a steady heat. With her fingertips she tenderly touched his face, his lips, his nose, feeling him, feeling his warm skin as he did the same.

They explored each other's bodies for a few minutes. Arms, shoulders, backs - oh, God, his back was amazing - and at one point she kissed the palm of his hand and gently licked his fingers. He did the same. He kissed her belly and she giggled; she cupped his face in her hands and gently kissed his closed eyes while he softly laughed.

After a while he ran his hands over her hips, cupped her ass, and pulled her in; she twisted and they ended up lying on their sides. His hand moved down her belly, and she parted her legs for him. He gracefully massaged her labia, moving around her clitoris in delicious, frustrating circles.

"You're so wet, Babe,' he said.

"For you," she said. And then out of nowhere, grabbed his hand moved it to her throat; he gripped her firmly, but again gently, and she squeezed his hand, signaling increase to his grip. She no longer questioned where this was coming from - she wanted this man to use her, to force her. Not against her will - her will was totally into it - but she wanted his strength to push her and restrain her; she wanted to succumb to him. She wanted to it so badly...

She leaned in, her lips close to his ear and whispered, "Make me do things."

Jamal smiled, rolled off the bed, and stood. He grabbed her by one ankle and dragged her off the bed, and she flopped onto the floor and kneeled. When she raised her head, his magnificent cock was just inches from her face. She smiled up at him as he gripped his erect dick and pushed it toward her mouth; she willingly opened wide and took it in as far as she could. She brought her hands up to grip his cock.

"No," he said forcefully. She dropped her hands to her sides. He grabbed her hair at the back of her head, taking control of her head's movements. He moved her head back and forth; she kept her mouth wide open, put her lips in an 'O' and made her tongue flat so her teeth wouldn't scrape him. He pistoned his erection in and out hard, but was careful not to jam it against the back of her throat and make her gag. That consideration aside, he was taking what he wanted.

Yes. Taking it. His dominance, his strength, was intoxicating. Her hands drifted down her belly and she massaged her clit with two fingertips. He's just doing what he wants and I'm letting him. Yesss... Electric sparks suffused her pelvis and for a moment she imagined what she looked like - on her knees, masturbating as a muscled black stud fucked her mouth.

The thought made her shudder, and multiple strong orgasms washed over her and through her. I want this. Just let him use me, let him take what he wants. Oh sweet Jesus....

She groaned loudly around his cock, and he pulled it out. He slowly dragged his saliva-wet dick across her face. "You're mine," he said forcefully.

"I'm yours," she said, light shining in her eyes. "All yours."

He grabbed her by one arm and dragged her to her feet, and then pushed her a few feet until her back was to the hotel room wall. "Stay right there," he said, and bent to pick up his jeans. He removed a condom - Trojan Magnum - from a pocket and handed it to her. "Put it on me," he ordered. She quickly kneeled, ripped open the packet, pulled out the condom, and rolled it over his erect member. She looked up at him and smiled.

He reached down and grabbed her wrists with both hands, pulled her arms above her head, and then pulled her from kneeling to standing. Then he pulled her up more, dragging her up the wall; she felt a twinge in her shoulders, he saw her expression, and let go of her hands.

"Turns out the fantasy's not workable," he said ruefully.

"That's okay," she said "We can get most of the way there." She wrapped her hands around his neck; he reached down, cupped her ass in both hands, lifted her, and pressed her to the wall.

"Yes, Jamal, yes," she said, and wrapped her legs around him. It was just like the dream, better than the dream. His hard body pushed against her and she couldn't move, and that was sooo right. He grinned wickedly, moved his hips back a bit and found the right angle...

And then he was pushing into her. It seemed to go on and on, a fullness that never ended,. "Ohhh," she said "Ahhh... so deep!" He just kept going, it just kept going, until she felt on odd but pleasant sensation she'd never felt before. He's hitting my cervix!

And then he was moving in and out of her, and it was everything, the pleasure increasing with each thrust, him bottoming out in her every time. She lived in a duality of complete contentment along with crackling sexual energy that just built and built. So much pleasure, so much. More than was in the world. "Oh God, I never knew!" she said. "Yes, fuck me Jamal. Fuck me!"

And he did with perfect rhythm, their bodies matched and moving with each other, and the pleasure grew more and more, for minutes, and then suddenly she came even harder than before - white-hot pleasure blossomed in her body, bloomed in her mind, and she momentarily wasn't there, but instead was falling through and into a cloud of ecstasy she'd never known existed. She heard someone screaming and she knew that it was her...

She felt herself fall on something soft, and she realized it was the bed. She opened her eyes and looked up at Jamal, who was standing above her and smiling again, this time with a rueful look.

"Thought you might have had a stroke," he said.

She just looked at him and knew what she wanted. She flopped over on her stomach, drew her knees up, and presented her ass and upper thighs to him, exposing her sex so he could see it; she wanted him to see it, to see how wet and ready she was. She reached between her legs with one hand and spread her soaking labia.

"Fuck me," she said. "Take what's yours."

With a chuckle Jamal positioned himself behind her, and she felt the top of his cock slide down her ass and pause at her anus. He moved forward just a bit, questioning.

"No," she said firmly.

He continued downward and slid into her vagina. "Yesss....,' she said, and then he was thrusting into her again, filling her again, and this time she felt his balls impact her clit with every long thrust, sending shards of pleasure shattering through her. With each thrust he ended harder, and she loved it. "Yes," said. "Hard. Harder. Yes."

And then he was thrusting into her with everything he had, and she was being driven into the bed. So good, yes, so good.

"Oh yeah," he said. "You like it hard."

She did, God she did. She put one hand behind her back, he grabbed it, and her face was pushed into the mattress. Take me, force me, make me... She put her other hand behind her back and he gripped both her wrists with one hand, held her hip with the other, and pounded into her, driving her body forward and her face further into the mattress.

She orgasmed again, milder than before but continuously, her whole upper body arching and quaking as he slammed in and out while she was powerless. She felt his rhythm quicken and she knew he was building to completion. She spread her knees wider and thrust her ass up more, giving herself to him, welcoming him. "Yours," she said, her voice muffled by the mattress. "All yours. Yours to fuck.... all yours."

And with a loud groan Jamal thrust all the way into her and stayed. She pushed back against him and she knew he was cumming deep inside her, and the thought gave her yet another peak orgasm, large and flowing like a warm ocean wave...

He pulled out and flopped down beside her; she turned over, and they both just stared at the ceiling for a moment, breathing hard. After a minute or so he turned on his side and kissed her neck, and she turned to him and kissed him, open-mouthed, gently, and felt the wonderful tingle of post-sex exhaustion wash over her...

==

Later, driving back to campus, they were silent for the first few minutes. Every bone in Alison's body ached. She glanced over at Jamal and he shook his head.

"What?" she asked.

"You look wrung out, but you can't stop smiling," he replied.

"You proud of yourself?" she replied, teasing.

"I ain't ashamed, that's for sure. Not of myself, not of you. Your shoulders okay?"

"Shoulders are fine. But my jaw is sore."

"Yeah, well, my hips ache. So back at'cha." They grinned at each other.

"Jamal.. I'm sorry for... well, you know."

"Sorry? No, I don't know."

"For when you suggested... doing it... um, in the... ass."

"Girl, don't ever be sorry for something like that. You don't want something, you don't do it."

"Yes. And it's not that that doesn't interest me. It does. It's so... nasty but sexy. It's just this afternoon was already a lot of firsts."

"So you said no. Good on you."

The conversation paused for a minute. Then she said, "You know, you're too perfect."

"Not hardly. I leave my socks lying around and I never, ever, load the dishwasher."

"You know what I mean. You supported me saying no just now, and when I was scared you knew just what to say. The 'we're both people' thing. Smooth, just the right words, practiced. And that was great, I'm glad I didn't run away scared. I just want you to know that I know... you've had that conversation before." She glanced over, concerned he would take her words as accusatory in some way. But he was just calmly looking out the window.

"Not that exact one, but yeah, I've done this before, and yeah, I have a technique. I hope that doesn't piss you off, but I'm young, I practice hard and I study hard. Sex is fun. Why not have sex? But I'm not perfect."

"You sure look pretty good from here."

"That's the plan - but I've had to tone down my speech quite a bit. Where I grew up there's a lot of 'bitch' and 'motherfucker' and 'ni-'

"I get it. The best version of yourself."

"I'm not perfect," he repeated with a bit more force, and then went on. "I was a little scared too."

"No, you weren't!" she scoffed.

"I'm black man in in the middle of Indiana. And this is my first time... first time with a girl, a white girl, who, um, liked it a little rough. Who knew what would happen?"

"I-" she didn't know how to feel about that. Insulted? What was he really saying? She considered it for a moment, and then said "You thought I might pull some 'crazy chick' thing and risk real trouble for you. Danger."

"Yes."

"I would never do that. Will never do that."

"Good. But I had no way of knowing."

"No, you didn't." Silence stretched on. Then Alison said, "Yesterday, when you first saw me, how did you know I'd say yes?"

"I didn't." He hesitated. "I know it's sounds weird, but it comes from something my mama said to me once."

"Your mother?"

"Yeah, when I first started dating. She's a single mom, so she had to have conversations my father was supposed to have. She said 'Be bold, but don't be a creep. Show interest, then shut up and let them see you.' So I saw you, and I put it out there and then backed off. "

"Well it worked."

"It doesn't, sometimes, but that's okay. The key is respect - real respect, not the fake kind where a brother is all nice and shit until she says no. But if you want to know why I thought you in particular might say yes, you were reading THE ODYSSEY."

"I... what?"

"You were reading THE ODYSSEY. The Fitzgerald translation. That's some cool shit. I took a classics course last year, read the same version and really enjoyed it. Told me something about your spirit."

"You're making that up!" she exclaimed. "You just saw the book cover!"

"I think part of it of matches up with us. Circe and Odysseus start as enemies, but eventually hook up after getting to know each other. She winds up telling him 'Put your weapon in its sheath' - something like that. She basically said let's have sex for fun and so that we trust each other more."

She quickly looked over at him, where he was grinning at her.

"Yeah, I read. And like I said, THE ODYSSEY is some cool shit."

She drove on. My God, this man. There's so much there, a curious mind, a whole life. All I saw was this cliché black football player, and I held back. I want... I want...

"You look a thousand miles away," said Jamal. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking I wish I'd let you fuck my ass."

"God, what have I created?" he said in mock surprise..

"You didn't create it, you just let it out."