Love Thy Neighbor
An erotic tale of interracial love and romance
Bobbie Sue Ellison
Copyright © 2019 Bobbie Sue Ellison
This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described in this book are imaginary, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Note from the author:
If you’ve enjoyed this book, I’d greatly appreciate if you could leave an honest review on Amazon. Reviews are very important to us authors, and it only takes a minute to post.
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Bobbie Sue
Other books by Bobbie Sue Ellison
Love in the North
Love in the Shadows
Who Should He Choose?
My Three Men
They are all available on Amazon as Kindle books.
Chapter One
Alone…
I open the door to my tiny apartment and juggling my bag of groceries step in. I almost call out to Ethan that I am home but quickly remember that he is not here. Our divorce was final just one month earlier and now I am living in my own apartment.
Alone…
I miss Ethan, miss his arms around me, miss his presence next to me in bed, and even more I miss the sex. He was good in bed and during the twelve years of our marriage he had never failed to completely satisfy me.
And I truly believe that I completely satisfied him.
But apparently he wanted more.
After ten years of marriage he began coming home late from work – overtime he said --
But he was in management and didn’t get paid for overtime so I soon suspected something else. It turned out that he found another woman, younger than me, and she gave him what I did not. When I found out I confronted him. He swore that he loved me and that she meant nothing to him. He promised that he would not see her again but he couldn’t stay away. Try as I could I couldn’t keep him. We divorced and I moved out of the apartment we shared and into my own place.
Alone…
I place the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and walk into the tiny bedroom to change from my work clothes into something more comfortable. I slip off my shoes and unbutton my skirt and let it fall to the floor. My blouse follows the skirt and I sit on the bed to remove my pantyhose. As I do my hand brushes my pussy and I gasp. Just the brief touch makes me excited and I immediately think of Ethan. I imagine that it was his finger touching me and I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. I imagine his lips on my neck and then nibbling on my ear. I love that and the thought makes me tingle.
I move my free hand up to my bra and push it away setting my tits and nipples free. I rub my hands across each breast taking time to tweak each nipple and I savor the sensation.
My forty year old tits are small but firm and well-shaped, my nipples naturally pointy and they become hard quickly when aroused which happens at the slightest touch. An innocent rub in a crowd – man or woman -- is all that it takes.
I slide my hand down my flat belly and find the soft patch of hair covering my mound. I caress it gently knowing that deep inside I am beginning to moisten. Sliding my finger further, I find the entrance to my secret place and gently move my finger inside, eager to find the spot that is the key to my arousal.
The first touch sends shivers up and down my body and my pelvis arches in anticipation of pleasures to follow. One hand still pinching and caressing a nipple, I use my other hand to gently massage my clit. The sensation is wonderful and I know that I will soon climax.
My breathing becomes heavy and I utter animal-like noises as I thrash on the bed. The sensation is wonderful and the wait for my orgasm is almost more than I can bear.
My orgasm hits like an enormous wave crashing on a tropical beach. I am soon bucking and screaming and the bed is shaking so much I fear that it will collapse. After what seems like an eternity, the wave retreats back into the ocean and I relax.
But I am not done.
My fingers find my cunt and I eagerly slide two of them inside. The feeling is indescribable and again I scream and thrash around on my bed. I pump them in and out as fast as I can anxiously awaiting another violent orgasm.
I am not disappointed.
I lay there exhausted. I am soaking wet with sweat and the juices flowing from my cunt. I’m sexually satisfied but ashamed of what I did. This was not my first time masturbating, I did it as a teenager, but the first time since before I was married. With Ethan there was never a need, he was there whenever I needed him.
But he’s no longer here.
I’m alone…
Sex with him was always so good. He always started the same way. Before he even kissed me he would slide his finger between my thighs and along my pussy. He knew that would excite me and it always did. He would feel my wetness even before a moan escaped my lips. Then he would kiss me pushing his tongue into my mouth searching for mine. He would circle my body with his free arm, his hand on my ass, and pull me hard against him removing his finger from between my legs so I could feel his hard cock against my pussy.
The pressure of his hard cock excited me even more and I had to have it, first in my mouth and then deep in my cunt. He would sense when I was ready and he would release me so that I could drop to my knees as he unzipped his pants to release his hard cock to my waiting mouth.
I would suck and lick him, enjoying every inch of his tasty cock and just as he was ready to cum he would pull me to my feet, hurriedly undress me and throw me down on the nearest flat surface. He would spread my legs and slide his cock into me, watching my face for the look of pleasure that he knew I felt.
He liked to fuck me where he could see my face; he got his kicks out of pleasuring me as well as pleasing himself. When he was convinced that I was enjoying his cock in me he would move me into other positions which I really loved. He was a great lover and I really miss a good fuck.
“Ethan, I miss you so much.”
I’m alone…
I am finally able to move and I get off the bed and into the shower. The water refreshes me and I linger for several minutes. As I stand under the spray my hand once again caresses my nipples and they respond. No, not again I command myself and I stop.
I finish my shower and dry myself. I slip into a pair of panties. Still exhausted I lay on my bed and just stared at the ceiling.
Alone…
“Ethan, I love you so much, what does she give you that I didn’t,” I say to myself and then the tears come.
* * *
I must have cried myself to sleep for when I awake the room is dark. I glance at the clock and see that it’s nearly ten o’clock. Suddenly hungry I get up, throw on a robe and head to the kitchen in search of something for dinner.
Alone…
* * *
I awake slowly the next morning and just lie in bed. It’s Saturday and I don’t have to be at the call center so I don’t have to get up. I thought about a dream I had. The recollection is blurry but I dreamt that Ethan was with me in bed and we made love. Was it a dream or was I just remembering what I did to myself last evening?
“Ethan, I miss you so much.”
I’m alone…
Chapter Two
Ethan and Tonya Hamilton. I always loved how nice our names sounded together. I used to be Tonya Bonner and may be again, I haven’t decided. When some women divorce they can’t wait to resume their maiden name but I’m in no rush. I would have to change my driver’s license, bank accounts, and a bunch of other things so why bother?
Maybe I’m just not ready to accept that he’s gone. Maybe I don’t want him to be gone. No, no maybe about it, I don’t want him to be gone, I want him here with me. Again. Forever.
But I’m
alone…
And Ethan is gone.
Tonya Hamilton. A black forty-year-old woman, newly divorced. If I can’t have Ethan what should I do? Should I spend the rest of my life doing what I did last night?
I’m a good looking woman if I say so myself. I’m just a shade over five foot eight and a slim – well skinny – one hundred and ten pounds. My tits are nicely shaped and small but not sagging, my belly is flat, my hips narrow, and my legs long and thin. Ethan always said that I was the ideal woman, with my long skinny legs I could wrap around him and pull him deeper into me.
I don’t really like the idea of masturbating. I did it as a teenager and before I was married. And I did it last night but truth be told I really didn’t enjoy it. Oh yes, I was satisfied but I would much rather be satisfied by a man.
Ethan.
But I’m alone…
Should I stay alone? I don’t want to be married to anyone but Ethan. What about a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? I’ve never been with a woman, is now the time to try?
I have so many questions…
I’m so confused…
And I’m alone…
I putter around my apartment, dusting something here, arranging something there, make work really, the place is too small to require much in the way of housekeeping. Only a small combination kitchen/dining area, bedroom, bathroom, and living room with just a couch, one chair, one end table, one coffee table and a TV set hung on the wall. The bedroom holds a double bed, night stand, and one dresser. Much less than I am used to but I needed a place quickly so it will do. When I rented it I secretly thought that I would be moving back in with Ethan but that’s not going to happen.
I’m alone…
* * *
My girlfriends are wonderful. When they found out that Ethan was coming home late from work they tried to reassure me that all was well, that he still loved me and that there was nothing wrong. But deep inside we all knew the truth, that he had found someone else.
They are all married, happily it appears, to non-straying husbands.
They are still very supportive and have banded together to find me a man.
I call them the Witches Coven. I visualize them all dressed in tattered flowing black robes, standing around a steaming caldron fervently trying to conjure up a man for me.
Will they succeed? I don’t know. Do I want them to succeed? I don’t know that either.
Part of me says yes. I don’t want to be alone. I would like to be with a man, sitting next to me on the couch, his arm around me. I would like to be with a man in bed at night, his arms around me kissing me passionately with his cock in me.
But I’m alone…
I have been on dates, the Coven has been successful, but few single men in their forties can be considered prize catches. There are the momma’s boys who still live at home, the once-confirmed bachelors who are suddenly terrified at the realization that they are growing old alone, the divorced men whose ex-wives have cast them out for good reasons. The good ones are being jealously guarded so as not to fall into the clutches of an attractive divorcee.
So what are my chances? Slim to none are excellent odds.
But the Coven keeps trying, bless their happily-married-to-faithful-husbands hearts. Maybe they’ll get lucky and then I’ll get lucky.
* * *
The leader of the Coven is my BFF Janice. We’ve been friends since high school and I love her dearly. She was the maid of honor at my wedding and me at hers. When Ethan and I divorced I think that she felt worse than me. She is determined that I will find another man – a good man -- and will leave no stone unturned until I am once again married.
The other members of the Coven -- and just as dedicated as Janice -- are April and Gloria. We’ve known each other for ages and have shared some wild times. I know their husbands and kids too and they are great people.
One thing for which I am thankful is that Ethan and I never had kids. Kids have it the hardest in a divorce so at least I won’t have that to feel guilty about.
I would like to have kids but it just didn’t happen. I went to my doctor and he pronounced me to be okay. I wanted – begged – Ethan to get checked out but he always made excuses. Maybe if I find another man – if…
I’m alone…
* * *
I have the weekend off. My job as a manager in a 24/7 call center means that I have to work every third weekend with days off during the week as compensation. It’s really a pretty good deal as I have weekdays to get stuff done that is difficult during a weekend. Things such as shopping and laundry. The laundry room is a zoo on Saturdays and Sundays as are the stores. I can throw in a load of laundry, do some shopping and be back in time to toss everything in the dryer.
But today is Saturday and laundry must be done. Since it’s a beautiful day I gamble that people would much rather be outdoors than stuck in a laundry room and I’m right! The entire bank of washers and dryers is mine and I take full advantage. I shuttle between my first floor apartment and the basement laundry room and wash everything in sight. Just as I finish putting my last load in a washer the laundry room door bangs open startling me. I look up to see a man enter, a bag of laundry over his shoulder.
A white man.
He sees me and seems surprised. Apparently he didn’t expect anyone else to be doing laundry today either.
Or is he surprised because I’m black?
Who am I? Am I a regular tenant or someone’s cleaning-and-laundry lady?
After a few moments he gets over his surprise and walks over.
“Hi, I’m Brad,” he announces showing a big smile, “you must be new here, I haven’t seen you before.”
I can tell that he’s trying to figure out if I’m a tenant or one of the hired help so I decide to satisfy his curiosity.
“Hi, I’m Tonya,” I announce also smiling, “I’m the new tenant in 1C.”
The look on his face tells it all. I’m a tenant and thereby worthy of his attention.
“Welcome,” he says, now smiling, “I’m in 1F.”
1F is a small apartment like mine; all the first floor apartments are the same. If he’s married two people in a small apartment is difficult. I try to see if he’s wearing a wedding ring but his hand is holding his laundry bag and I can’t see.
“So I guess we’re neighbors,” I reply and not knowing what else to say I pick up my box of soap and walk to the door.
“See you again sometime,” I call out as I leave, the door swinging shut behind me.
As I climb the stairs I think about the man I just met. A white man who just happens to be my neighbor. A nice looking white man who actually smiled at me.
“So he smiled at me, so what,” I ask myself, “and I smiled back, so what? People smile at each other all the time.”
By the time that I reach my apartment I have forgotten about him. I’ve never been interested in white men anyway, I’ve never dated one and none have ever shown an interest in me. I know that some black men prefer white women – especially ones with big tits and big asses – but I don’t think that many white men go for black women unless maybe they are raving beauties like Halle Berry which I am definitely not. I’m pretty enough, Ethan certainly said so, but I have small tits and skinny legs.
I’m in my apartment not five minutes when my cell phone jingles. It’s Janice and I eagerly answer. Its Saturday she reminds me and that means we’re going out to a club. The Coven will be on the hunt and I’m both the bait and the prize and I’m ordered to get myself all gussied up.
A night out with my friends is just what I need even if the whole idea is to parade me like livestock at an auction in front of as many men as possible in the hope that a suitable man will take interest. It’s a rather vain hope, past experiences have shown that most -- if not all – of the men are looking for just one thing and one thing only and if that’s not available they quickly lose interest and move on.
I spend the rest of the day finishing my laundry – Brad is nowhere i
n sight when I return to the laundry room – and a few other mindless chores then get ready to be paraded. I rummage in my closet and come up with a sleeveless light blue one-piece dress that hugs my body and shows off my legs. They may be skinny but they are nicely shaped and look great when I’m wearing heels. I select white panties and bra and lay everything out on the bed while I treat myself to a luxurious bath.
My bath finished I put on my bra and panties, being careful to not excite myself. My shiny black hair is long and reaches halfway down my back. I often wear it up in a bun but tonight I will let it loose, I like how it frames my slender face. My skin is smooth, I don’t need or use much makeup, just a touch of eye shadow, some rouge on my cheeks and some bright red lipstick.
I am ready!
And I’m alone…
* * *
Parking in town is difficult and expensive so I call an Uber. The driver is surprised to be picking up a black woman at this address but seeing how I’m dressed decides that I’m not going to rob him. He drops me off at the club where the Coven is waiting for me. To find them waiting when I arrive at the appointed time tells me that they met earlier to plan my evening. I am at once angry and happy and grateful that they are going to so much trouble. I have wonderful friends.
But I’m alone…
Chapter Three
We enter the club and wait until our eyes adjust to the dim light. We’ve been there many times before so we know the layout well.
The room is large, about one hundred feet wide and about twenty feet longer. A bar takes up most of one of the long walls with the DJ’s booth at the far end. A square dance floor takes up a good third of the room with tables taking the rest. There are tables for two and four people and tables can be pushed together for larger groups.
It’s only just after eight so the place is pretty empty, nothing much happens until around nine or so when the DJ starts. The Coven drags me to a four-place table at the edge of the dance floor and seats me where I can be easily seen.
Love Thy Neighbor Page 1
