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She was black and I wasn't. She was dating my best friend, I used to
date a friend of hers. She thought Whitney Houston would last forever,
while I thought the same of Stevie Nicks. My clothes were silver and
black, while hers were the colors of muted earth tones. She dreamed of a
house in the country when I wanted to build near the beach. We were both
going away to college, never to see each other again. Any one of those
should have been a good enough reason for us to control ourselves, but we
made love one afternoon anyway.

Pamela and I first meet in English class, but we didn't speak to each
until a week later. Strangely it was Beowulf that brought us one step
closer. I had taken offense to her belittling the heroism of Beowulf, and
told her so loudly during a group discussion. She proceeded to ridicule
the entire epic poem, much to the delight of the class and to the horror of
my teenage concepts of masculinity. I countered by speculating on a modern
version where the hero was chastised for dismembering the monster, and
neutered by soft hearted activists. Our teacher was amused by the ferocity
of our fight, perhaps he was relieved that someone was actually paying
attention.

When the bell rang and closed our fight, my heart couldn't stop racing.
I attributed it to the adrenaline that came with so much public speaking
but now I wonder if it might of been something different. Looking back
with the taste of Pamela's breasts still on my tongue, I think now that I
was attracted to her from that moment on. It was the first time anyone but
an adult had argued with me over literature. To a self confessed book
potato, that was a rare kinship. Reading was my fetish, and I had found a
partner in kink.

The rest of the school year in English class was exhilarating. Every
story was our battleground and every story was another date of passion.
The rest of our class thought we hated each other, never suspecting that
the volume of our words were generated by a sexual tension. For that
matter, I never suspected either. My fantasies were occupied by my
girlfriend at the time, a willowy dreamer with lemon blonde hair. Since I
was constantly trying to think of ways to seduce my wispy Amanda, I never
considered how erotic the grip of Pamela's legs could be.

Pamela and I never talked outside of class, but I knew more about her
that following summer than was discrete. My best friend Dennis had asked
her out, and despite the differences of their race, she had accepted. This
meant I became privy to every date as Dennis wrestled with the difficulties
of inter racial dating in a small town. His parents were upset, her
parents were upset and the town in general wouldn't give them a moment's
peace when they were in public. Luckily, Dennis thrived on adversity like
any red blooded teenage boy, but to Pamela it was a trying experience.
When Dennis was running out of ways to sneak off with Pamela, he came to
the most under handed friend he knew, and I was more than willing to help.

Nights that Dennis was to sleep over at my house were spent with Pamela
in the nearby graveyard. A 'guys' trip to the beach had a special feminine
stowaway. At one point I even called Pamela's house impersonating a nice
proper black boy, to tell her that Dennis wanted to ask her to a movie out
of town. Dennis and Pamela always thanked me profusely, knowing the
terrible trouble my stepfather would inflict on me if they were caught. To
me, their thanks were all I needed until the day Pamela wrapped her arms
around me in a grateful hug. When the scent of her shampoo and the press
of her small breasts touch my senses, I knew I could never be just a friend
anymore.

Despite having a knack for lying, sneaking around and deceiving people,
I was honorable when it came to staying out of their relationship. Dennis
didn't make it easy at all though. Every time he achieved another level of
intimacy, he felt compelled to inform me of his success. Maybe he thought
he was paying me for my help with such secrets, but all he succeeded in
doing was driving me crazy. From him I learned that Pamela craves movies starring Robert Redford. I discovered Pamela yawns whenever she's nervous
when Dennis was late returning her home one night. The first night they
kissed, I was told by a stunned Dennis that her tongue never once stopped
moving. Long before I experienced the joys of her fingers scratching my
back, Dennis proudly revealed their marks to me on his back.

Summer ended, and another school year mercifully began for me. I was
able to drive Pamela from my mind and save Dennis from losing his best
friend. Pamela had introduced me to a new girl the second day of school,
and I found it easy to give up my obsession with Pamela for more
permissible fruit. Her name was Lea, and she was a bookish yet easily
naughty girl.

Lea was just what I needed or so I thought. Long afternoons spent dry
humping and pressing against Lea's large bosom turned my senior year into a
daze. My nights were spent masturbating to the long pornographic letters
we would exchange. On the night of my senior prom, I lost my virginity to
Lea on a blanket at a friend's house. We struck a nerve in each other and
that nerve was linked right to our genitals. Dennis was still telling me
too much about Pamela but now I had Lea to drown my sorrows in. Lea was my
substitute for Pamela, and Lea, I am truly sorry.

Our senior year came to an end, colleges were chosen and it looked like
I was about to go on with my life at last. Lea broke up with me on the
last day of school and it's a sad statement of my feelings that I didn't
try to win her back. Pamela and Dennis were going to try and keep in touch
but their colleges were separated by several states. The four of us were
going separate ways, and I was relieved that my career as Cyrano was coming
to an end. Of course, that didn't happen.

I needed a summer job before college so I became employed at a fast food
resturaunt. In one of those coincidences that Pamela and I would always
criticize in a story, Pamela was hired to work there as well. I honestly
thought I was cursed. The melodrama of my teenage life was not going to
cut me any slack, and I was stuck working with my best friend's girlfriend
for 3 months. I should have been depressed, but the smile that Pamela wore
when she saw me there lifted me too high to be sad. Funny how that smile
is the same as the one she is wearing right now, content and satisfied in
my arms.

It is too easy to date a coworker. I never understood how people have
office affairs until Pamela and I spent the summer working together. It's
the little things that do it. It takes being the one person she can count
on to help without ever asking anything in return. Sometimes it was just
getting her a drink when she was especially tired without being asked. I
can see how easy it is for coworkers to become close when you share common
troubles. We spent almost as much time complaining about our jobs as we
did doing our work. Many a time Pamela would tell me that she would quit
her job if it wasn't for me helping her. Comments like those almost made
me feel guilty that I was seeing more of her than Dennis. Almost.

The last day of work, on the last day before we went to our separate
colleges, Pamela drove me home. We wore both pretty maudlin. We had spent
the day at work going over old times, telling stories to each other that we
already knew. On the car ride, we discussed how hectic our love lives
were, although I kept running into trouble on how to edit myself to not
include her. It was strange hearing Pamela telling me stories I had
already heard from Dennis. Of course, Dennis never told me the stories about their fights, or the time when she nearly broke up with him when he
wouldn't hold hands in public on an out of town trip. That was the story that changed our relationship forever.

"Pamela," I said as I held her hand in the car, "if you and I were
dating, you could hold my hand anytime you wanted."

That was a pretty lame line in retrospect, but somehow it worked on
Pamela. She turned and gave me a smile that rained a friendly storm. She
also didn't take her hand away. We held hands for the rest of the trip to
my house, possibilities unspoken between us. When we arrived at my empty
house, I knew she would accept my invitation to come in.

"I can stay for an hour or two," she said, stepping inside my house and
into my dreams. "But at six I have to be leave to see Dennis before he
leaves for Raleigh."

"Good," I answered, handing her a soda. "We can spend some time
celebrating our last day of work. No one can blame us if we wanted to
spend a last hour before we leave to go on with the rest of our lives."

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We sat on the couch together, close but not touching. For too long we
sat in silence, but then she yawned. I remembered the stories Dennis had
told me, and Pamela's yawning meant she was nervous about something. That
one tiny signal was the sign I needed. I wonder now if she hadn't given me
a signal, if I would have invented one to use as an excuse for my ego.
Whatever the reason, I kissed Pamela.

Her lips were large and soft, and I kissed her harder than I wanted to.
My hands were politely on her shoulders, holding her close to me. When she
didn't return my kiss, and just sat there while I pressed against her, I
knew she could never mine. Manners would dictate that I should have broken
the kiss immediately but I didn't. I had spent too many restless nights
wondering what her lips tasted like to stop so soon. I nibbled softly on
her bottom lip for a moment before finally leaning away. She tasted
faintly of strawberries.

"Look, I'm sorry Pamela," I began.

"Shh," she said as she moved closer. "I was just surprised is all."

Then she kissed me, and this time it was perfect. She brushed my cheek
with her hand as her lips parted on mine. Our tongues dueled inside each
other's mouths. Like a dervish, her tongue spun around mine and I almost
giggled at the speed she could move. We kissed loudly, quickly and
desperately. I felt so guilty but I also felt so right.

Our hands weren't keeping still while we kissed. I lightly passed my
hand over her shirt, cupping her small breasts and squeezing gently. Her
hands were on my back, digging deeply through my shirt and leaving her
personal gouge on my back. Each scratch caused me to arch against her,
while each squeeze of her hidden chest would catch her breath in her
throat.

It wasn't long before I was letting go of her in order to take off my
shirt. In the time it took to get my shirt off, Pamela had removed hers as
well. My hands undid the clasp of her delicate green bra easily. It
should have been easy, Dennis had asked for advice on how to open the ones
that snap in front and I used to practice with him on Lea's bras. As
Pamela lied back on the couch, her small brown breasts floating like foam
on the sea, I wondered how many times Dennis had been where I am now. Fuck
Dennis, I wasn't doing this because of him. My mouth dropped on Pamela's
walnut nipple because I desired Pamela, not the girlfriend of my friend.

That was the turning point for me, and I savored my freedom from guilt.
Pamela ensnared my hair in her hands as I suckled from her petite bosom.
Sweat mingled with the taste of grease from work but it was the most
delicious nipple I have ever sucked. It fascinated me how much of her
entire breast I could get into my mouth. She twisted sensually under me as
I lavished my attentions on her breasts. My eyes drank in the entire
scene, noting everything from the way her nibbles hardened into a darker
color to the way her dark skin still had the equivalent of tan lines.
Pamela was beautiful, and for an hour she was mine.

My mouth left her now wet breasts and kissed my ways downward. I kissed
every inch of her slim waist as I moved down to her waiting pants. Pamela
said nothing but moaned expectantly as I took off her belt and unzipped her
pants. She wore a matching green pair of panties that quickly joined her
bra on the floor. The scent from her was powerful, and I didn't think my
cock has ever been harder. It took all of my willpower to lower my face to
her soft bush of heaven, rather than plunge my hardness into her.

"What are you doing?" she asked alarmed.

I licked her lower lips once before answering. "I'm going down on you
Pamela," I answered. "What did you think I was doing?"

She shuddered once from my lick before responding. "Please don't" she
begged softly, "Dennis says the smell is too much."

"I'm not Dennis," I said simply. Before her lack of insecurity could
ruin her mood, I plunged into her aromatic paradise. I opened her with my
tongue and licked eagerly at the tangy juices she gave me. The black bush
of her hair tickled my nose as I moved my mouth over her private place.
Hips buckling, Pamela overcame her oral shyness quickly. Before long, she
was holding my head down firmly on the blossoming petals of her sex. It
thrilled me to provide Pamela with a new pleasure. Her hands scratched and
pulled at my hair as my tongue delved deeper and faster into her. I knew
of her climax when she gripped my head with her thighs and cried out a
shrill shriek of joy. I treasured her shudders, for they were shudders for
me.

I rose from between her legs, and wiped my face with my discarded shirt.
Pamela still had her eyes closed, a contented smile on her lips. I held
myself with my arms above her, savoring the glow on her face. My pelvis
was touching hers and I couldn't stop myself from pushing myself against
her. The bulge of my pants nestled against her and I throbbed urgently
next to her. I retrieved my condom from my wallet and tore it open with my
teeth. The taste of the package was unpleasant but I didn't care. Maybe I
should have waited for her bliss to recede but I wanted Pamela too much to
wait. I'm sure she could forgive me for that.

It turns out I was right. She opened her eyes and beamed a bright white
smile at me from her full lips. Without saying a word, she reached down
and opened my pants. I waited patiently as her quick fingers removed my
belt. I lost myself in the rich quality of her deep brown eyes while my
pants were finally unzipped. We squirmed together as we pulled my
underwear and pants down to my ankles. The anticipation was almost
painful, and every glancing touch my cock had with Pamela's body was
speeding my pulse to dangerous levels. I almost had an orgasm as she
placed my condom on me.

"Snug and fit," Pamela said, stroking my sheathed cock for emphasis.

I didn't need any further encouragement. Guided by her hand, my cock
glided into Pamela's welcoming sex. Even through the condom I could feel
the delicious moisture of Pamela's desire. Her brown slender legs wrapped
around me and her heels locked over my buttocks, clenching me deeper into
her. My cock thrusted franticly inside Pamela, two years of frustration
flowing into her. It should be no surprise that I ejaculated in about a
minute.

"That was fast," Pamela said with maybe a touch of amusement.

"That was to satisfy my crush," I said. "This one is for you and me."

She giggled as I began thrusting again but her giggles soon turned to
sighs. Now that my haste had been expelled into my condom, I was able to
move much slower. Now I was treasuring the moment, letting my cock slide
casually inside her. I was able to kiss her, touch her and fondle her like
I did in my fantasies. Thankfully, my cock was still concrete hard, I had
too much time to make up for to only have one minute of intercourse.

I learned new things about Pamela on the couch that Dennis never told
me. Did Dennis never see her bite her lower lip during her second orgasm?
Maybe he was too proud of his girlfriend to share that she had this
wonderful swivel to her pelvis during thrusting. I didn't care at the
time, I was too busy bringing Pamela to another back gouging orgasm.
Dennis can keep his secrets, I found new ones on my own and those secrets
were much sweeter.

After a bout of endless sweaty thrusting, Pamela reached the end of her
endurance. Maybe later in a letter from college she would tell me the
amazing number of orgasms she reached, but for now she merely revealed that
she couldn't take another thrust. I hadn't been able to climax again but I
didn't care. My body had her scent, my fingers had the touch of her body
and my tongue knew ever flavor on her. Besides, I tend to come down after
orgasm and I knew the depression of loosing her was going to be hard
enough. I wanted to keep my erection, if but to hold off a broken heart
with sexual tension.

For the rest of the time we had left, Pamela and I laid together on the
couch and talked. We talked of those secret hidden things that you don't
tell lovers or friends. Secret desires, terrible fears, embarrassing
longings and awful regrets were shared, exchanged and felt. We became each
other's confessor, and I told her about how long this story has been in the
making. She in turn told me the same story from her point of view, and
Dennis must never know how similar our tales are.

The clock is ticking louder somehow and soon Pamela will leave my arms.
The only question that remains, is will the story end tonight? I decide to
ask her. Her response makes me laugh and I hold her tighter.