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Erica
I discovered one of the apartment's best
features after living there less than a month. I
had just moved out of a place I was sharing with
three other people (that's another story) and
was rather enjoying living on my own. It was a
little lonely, but even this was a relief after
the constant emotional turmoil of my previous
situation.
One night, very late, I was reading a book.
Sitting right next to an open window because it
was a typical steaming Chicago summer night. I
happened to catch a flash of light out of the
corner of my eye, and when I looked up, I nearly
fell off my chair.
The apartment building was U-shaped and my
window overlooked the courtyard, across which
was the other half of the building. In the
apartment directly across from mine, one floor
down, I saw a beautiful black woman emerge from
her bathroom completely naked, toweling herself
off.
My jaw nearly dropped to my knees. The woman was
gorgeous, with Amazonian proportions. Tall,
broad-shouldered, with fantastic heavy breasts
and a great big heart-shaped ass. I'm not
typically what you'd call an ass man, but with
this girl it was hard not to notice. She had
short hair and very dark skin, looked to be
about my age (23 then.) I sank back into the
shadows of my apartment and watched.
I've never been a lurk-in-the-bushes Peeping Tom
type, but I'm not one to ignore a free show,
either. I watched the woman for several minutes
as she walked around her apartment
un-self-consciously, obviously trying to cool
off by air-drying. Finally, she crawled into
bed, still naked, and turned off the lights,
ending that night's performance.
Needless to say, I kept an eye on her windows.
Every few nights I would be rewarded. Even when
she didn't walk around her place completely
nude, she didn't wear much. In the heat, she
never bothered to close her blinds either. I
became moderately obsessed, and a check of the
mailboxes downstairs revealed that her name was
Erica Tate.
Also through my observations, I learned that
Erica would sometimes have overnight company.
Two different guys, who would each come over
about once a week. I never watched them get it
on because a) I would feel like a total pervert
and b) I don't think I could have handled the
jealousy of knowing someone else was sharing a
bed with my beautiful Erica.
At this time, I was working the graveyard shift
at a all-night print shop in Evanston, hence the
late nights. I slept during the day, but had a
hard time of it with the bright sunlight and the
constant city street noise. Of course, hot as it
was, I couldn't shut the windows, so I just had
to endure the less-than-perfect sleeping
conditions.
One day I was awoken at around noon by a car
alarm in the alley right behind my bedroom
window. I crawled out of bed, grumbling and
cursing, totally naked, and stumbled out to the
kitchen for a glass of water. On the way back to
my bed, I passed through the living room, and
happened to glance up to see . . . Erica
watching me curiously from across the way.
I was too groggy to be embarrassed at my own
nudity. Erica saw that I had seen her. She
wasn't embarrassed, either. In fact, she
actually waved at me. Sheepishly, I waved back,
then shuffled back into the bedroom, scratching
my skinny white ass.
A couple days later, I was down getting my mail
when Erica approached me. She was wearing a
tight-fitting white top and black shorts.
"Hey, you live right across from me, right?" she
asked.
I answered cautiously, afraid that she was going
to complain about either my peeping or my
walking the place naked in broad daylight. "Uh,
yeah."
"My name's Erica," she smiled.
"Hi, I'm Christian," I said, my heart beating a
little fast.
"Yeah, I know, I read it on your mailbox," she
said. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
Oh boy, I thought, here it comes. I was sure she
was going to ask me if I wanted one of her
boyfriends to come over and stomp the shit out
of me. But instead, she asked: "You smoke
reefer?"
I grinned in relief. As it happened, I had just
bought an ounce of some pretty good stuff from a
Jamaican guy who worked with me at the print
shop. I told this to Erica. She said that she
had run out and her usual supplier was out of
town, and then she asked me if she could buy a
little bit off me.
"Sure," I said. Hardly believing my luck, I led
Erica up to my apartment.
I poured a good quarter of my ounce into a
separate baggy and told Erica she could have it
for nothing. She insisted, though, that she had
not come up looking for free weed and tried to
pay me twenty bucks. Finally, we compromised at
ten, what I called a "friendly neighbor" price.
The deal struck, Erica asked if we could smoke a
joint.
Of course, I did not hesitate. The pot relaxed
both of us and we were soon talking and laughing
like we'd known each other for a long time.
Erica had a talent for doing spot-perfect
impressions of other people who lived in the
building, and she got me laughing hard doing her
versions of Mr. Yamaki, the old Japanese guy who
walked his little terrier at odd hours, or Mrs.
Washington, who lived underneath Erica and
always complained about the noise. By the time
she got around to Bob the handyman, who always
flashed the crack of his ass whenever he bent
over to fix something, I had tears running down
my face.
We were sitting pretty close on my couch,
despite the heat, and I was getting pretty
aroused by the proximity of such an attractive
girl. I don't know if Erica was turned on, too,
but I can say that her nipples were hard. In
fact, they were like little bullets poking
through her shirt. This made it very difficult
to look her in the eye.
She caught me looking and followed my gaze.
"Will you look at that?" she said. "Tittie
hard-on again. I swear, I could wear a padded
bra, a wool sweater and a jacket and those
things would still poke through. Raphael says I
got nipples of steel."
"Oh, I hadn't noticed," I said.
"Bullshit," Erica laughed hard at that one. She
leaned even closer. On impulse, I kissed her.
She was a little surprised at first, and I was
afraid I'd made a terrible mistake, but then she
started kissing me back. I loved the way her
full lips moved against mine.
"Damn," she said when we pulled apart. "You're a
bold one."
I shrugged, tingling all over. The first time
you kiss anyone is always mind blowing.
"You ever kiss a black girl before?" she asked.
"No," I said. "You ever kiss a white boy?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Well, what'd you think?"
"I don't know," Erica said. "Let's try it
again."
We kissed deeply for several minutes. I wanted
so badly to put my hand on her fabulous breasts
and to feel for myself those hard points of
flesh, but I wasn't THAT bold. Eventually, Erica
took my hand and forcibly placed it right on her
breast. I stroked her and kissed her hungrily.
"Wait a minute," she said, pulling away
slightly. "Sorry, but could we slow down a
little bit?"
"Sure," I said. If this took all night, I
wouldn't mind.
"Thanks," she said. We finished off the joint,
not saying much.
"So," Erica finally spoke. "I'm curious. What do
white boys like? In a girl, I mean. Do they like
tits? Ass? What?"
"Well," I said, extinguishing the roach in an
ashtray. "I can't speak for all the white boys
in the world, but personally I've always gone
for . . . hairy armpits."
"What?" Erica gaped in disbelief. "You are not
serious."
"Oh yes," I nodded. "Nothing turns me on more."
"That's nasty," she made a face.
"To each his own," I said.
"I ought to hook you up with my cousin Sheila.
She looks like she's got the Buckwheat brothers
in a double headlock. She's into white dudes,
too. Got a thing for big feet. I think she's a
little fucked up in the head."
"Really," I laughed.
"Sorry to disappoint you, baby, but I shave my
pits every day. My legs, too. The only thing I
don't shave is my pussy."
Just hearing her say the word "pussy" was enough
to make my mouth water.
"That's all right," I said. "I think you're
beautiful, anyway."
I kissed her again and soon we were making
heavily, pawing at each other. My hand slid
between her legs. I could feel how wet she was
even through her shorts.
"I gotta be crazy," Erica said when she pulled
away. "My mama always said she's rather I be a
dyke than be with a white guy."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Erica teased me, her lips inches from
mine. "But I don't always do what my mama says."
"Have you ever been with a girl, then?" I had to
ask.
"Shit," Erica laughed. "One time, this girl
Crystal and me, we were drunk and high and she
asked me if she could eat my pussy."
"Did you let her?"
"I never say no to getting my pussy ate."
"Really," I said, getting down on my knees
without hesitation. Erica obliged me by peeling
off her shorts and spreading her legs. I was
face-to-face with a black girl's pussy for the
first time in my life. I leaned forward and went
to work.
"Is it different from a white girl's pussy?"
Erica gasped.
"Mmm," was all I could say. In fact, all girls
tasted different. It was my favorite thing,
going down on a girl for the first time. Some
girls tasted sweet, but Erica's cunt had a winey
kind of taste, with a hint of some kind of
exotic spice. Like curry or cloves. Lines from
an old Rolling Stones song came helplessly to
mind.
I drank her dark juices and felt her kinky hairs
scratch my nose as I sucked on her fat clit,
which grew bigger and bigger under my lips and
tongue until it was like sucking on a little
dick. She grabbed the back of my head and
smashed my face into her fragrant dripping pussy
when she came.
I sat up, grinning and wiping my face.
"You do that pretty good, white boy," Erica
smiled.
"I heard that black guys don't like doing that,"
I said. "Is that true?"
Erica shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Raphael
won't go near it with his mouth. But my boy Greg
eats my pussy and my asshole and loves it. So
that means that Greg gets his dick sucked and
Raphael don't."
"Huh," I said.
"So is it true what they say about white boys?"
Erica asked.
"What's that?"
"That they've got little penises."
I was feeling very bold now. "Judge for
yourself," I said, tearing my own pants down.
Erica laughed. "Well, it's no whale, but then
it's not a minnow, either."
I wasn't sure how I should take that comment,
but then Erica leaned over and wrapped her lips
around me and I decided it didn't matter.
"Don't come, now," she cautioned before she went
to work.
I moaned out loud as she sucked expertly. Just
as I felt the first shivers of oncoming orgasm,
she sat up.
"There," she said. "That got it nice and big."
"Does it taste different than a black guy's
dick?"
"Dick is dick, honey," Erica said. "Now, you got
any rubbers?"
"Yeah," I said. Thank God.
"Put one on," she said. "I don't want any white
babies. I'd be disinherited."
Erica rolled over and stuck her great black ass
into the air while I pulled a condom out of my
wallet. My hands were shaking so bad it was hard
to put it on.
"Hurry up," Erica told me as I struggled. "Ram
it into me, white boy."
Finally I got the condom pulled on. I slid into
her dripping black snatch and felt it wrap
tightly around me.
"Oh," we both moaned simultaneously.
She pulled her top off as I fucked her from
behind. I reached around to fondle her heavily
pendulous breasts, then ran my white hands all
over her beautiful chocolate skin. Then I
grabbed her ass, which filled both my hands. She
grinded back into me and I could tell she was
about to come.
"Yes," she cried out. "Oh, God yes! Fuck it!
Fuck it hard! Fuck my cunt!"
Hearing her nasty, dirty talk was all it took to
get me off. I filled the condom so full I was
afraid it was going to pop inside of her. I kept
humping her until the spasms subsided, then I
pulled out, weak and exhausted.
"Not quite done yet," she said. "God damn it."
She reached her hand between her legs and
squeezed her fat clit between her fingers. I
watched in awe. Watching this beautiful black
girl masturbate herself until her cunt twitched
and spurted was one of the most amazing things I
have ever witnessed.
When she was finished, Erica stood up and got
dressed. I was too wiped out to even pull the
cum-filled rubber off my dick. She kissed me
sweetly on the cheek.
"Thanks, Christian," she said. "I was always
curious about white boys. Thanks for the reefer,
too."
She was heading out the door.
"Hey, wait," I said feebly. "Do you want to
maybe go out to a movie sometime? Or dinner?"
She shook her head. "Not a good idea. But, you
know, I'm going to take a shower tonight about
nine before I go out. Maybe you can check me
out, I know you like to watch."
With that, she was gone. I saw her from time to
time after that, both casual meetings down by
the mailbox, and voyeuristic glimpses through
her window. Sometimes she would lay on her bed
and get herself off, and I think she knew I was
watching. We never had sex again, though.
Apparently, fucking a white guy was an exotic
kick she would try once, like lesbianism.
She moved out of her apartment a few months
later, and I never saw her again. Too bad, she
was the best neighbor I ever had.
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