White Male Read online

  “That’s a beautiful portrait of your grandfather,” I offered, indicating the painting hung on his wall. When I looked back into his eyes, I was surprised to see an irritated expression.

  “Lena,” he snapped, sounding annoyed, “I didn’t call you here for small talk. I don’t have time for that.”

  I was taken aback but maintained my composure.

  “Yes, sir,” I nodded, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry is not going to meet deadlines in this department,” he snapped. “Perhaps you were spoilt and pampered in Finance; but in my department, I expect hard work and professional conduct at all times. Is that clear?”

  I nodded; swallowing the huge lump that’d appeared out of nowhere and of all places, lodged itself in my throat.

  “Yes, Mr. Carter.”

  After he’d given me a list of areas he wanted me to focus on, I left his office and headed straight for the stairwell, hoping I’d make it there before the tears started falling.

  What the hell was that about? I thought to myself. Why is he picking on me? He wasn’t what I’d thought at all. I dried the moisture from my eyes, thankful I hadn’t launched into a fully-fledged ugly cry and went back to work.

  Over the next six weeks, I began to regret my decision to accept this post for one reason; Mr. Jonathan Carter. The job itself was excellent; and within weeks I’d closed my first deal. Mr. Baker was pleased with my work and regularly complimented my efforts, but nothing I did was ever good enough for Mr. Carter. He belittled many of my ideas and was dismissive of any new business I brought. I hated him and he hated me too; I knew he was picking on me because he was a racist. I was a young, ambitious, black woman and my very presence in his department challenged his ideas on supremacy and it was pissing him off. He was a different person when we had a client in a meeting and he’d praise the work I was doing, for the client to have confidence in my ability to handle their account; but when it was staff only present, he transformed into a snappy bully. Several times I came close to going all ‘hood’ on him but would remember my lowly position at the last minute. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

  That fateful Monday, I’d reached the very end of my tether at Mr. Carter’s attitude. I knew I had to do something, but was sane enough to know my options were limited. After drying my tears and bringing my rage under control from his constant belittling of each revision I’d made on his requested presentation, I returned to my desk to find an email from him, requesting completion of the damn thing before I left for the day. He further instructed me to have it ready for a full viewing in the conference room. I shook my head in disgust; he didn’t care that I’d reshuffled my day’s appointments to work on it; rudely and repeatedly asking for further revisions until he was satisfied. Mr. Baker had a look at all of them and couldn’t fault them. Even my more experienced colleagues asked me regularly to help them polish theirs into the new format I’d created, so what was his problem? As far as I was concerned, this was my final attempt.

  By the time it was finished, all our co-workers had gone and even the cleaning crew had arrived and left just as I was setting up the presentation in the conference room, for him to see the full effect. After a quick refresh in the bathroom, I rushed back, only to find him seated in his usual spot at the head of the conference table, looking more irritated than ever. I apologized for keeping him waiting, and he responded with a rude, expectant shrug. I launched the presentation on the screen, putting up the figures and pie charts he’d approved. He stopped me midway with a dismissive wave of the hand.

  “Not good enough,” he snapped, shaking his head.

  What a dick, I thought uncharitably. I’d worked on this presentation all day, using material he’d approved and it wasn’t good enough? Damn it. Enough was enough. I glanced at my watch making it obvious I was; it was past 7pm. I was tired and I wanted to get home. I wasn’t having it; not today. I visibly scowled, making a rude sucking-teeth sound, a habit I’d learnt from my Southern mother when she was annoyed; then turned my back on Mr. Carter.

  I sashayed towards to the white board where I’d written some figures and began to clean it vigorously with one arm fisted at my waist in that fed-up stance, barely concealing my outrage at the horrible attitude of my boss.

  When I’m done, I’m just walking out without saying a word, I planned to myself as I cleaned off the last of the figures I’d written.

  Suddenly, I felt a warm hand circle around my waist, settling loosely on my stomach. A mixture of fear and confusion immediately flooded my mind. I stopped rubbing the board; but did not turn around.

  What is happening? I thought, trying to figure out why Mr. Carter was holding me like that.

  I felt his warm breath right by my ear.

  "Lena," he said huskily in his deep clear voice.

  I did not answer. My heart rate had quickened and I was trying to control my breathing to keep my chest from heaving dramatically.

  "Turn around and face me."

  I slowly obeyed, wondering what I was going to do when I did. As soon as I faced him, my anger began to stew.

  How dare he? I thought furiously.

  I looked up into his gorgeous face. His blue eyes were intense, seeking permission to proceed. His day-old stubble cast an attractive shadow on his beautiful face and I felt his hardened dick pressed against my waist. In that moment, the realization of what was happening dawned on me. My treacherous body responded instantly and I felt my insides melting with lust and want, even as I despised him. I sank a little against him and felt his hand on my lower back slip down to my ass, holding me up. I was breathing in shallow breaths, struggling to regain control of myself until I heard the traitorous gasp of anticipation that came from my throat. Immediately, my anger at the situation flooded me. I hated my boss, yet here I was unable to resist or stop him from doing what he wanted; I wanted it as much as he did.

  I looked into his eyes and for the first time noticed that his face was etched with a mixture of rage and lust.

  "Who do you think you are?" he demanded, radiating a lethal combination of hostility and desire.

  I looked at him and blinked my indignation, unable to respond to the unexpected question.

  "You walk around my company, shaking your big booty all over my office and my building?"

  "Now wait just a minute Mr. Car---"

  Before I could finish my sentence, he crushed his lips to mine, kissing me angrily, kneading my ass and pulling me up against his erection. Shamelessly, I responded to his kiss, letting him entangled his tongue with mine, deepening the kiss. Immediately, he released me and pulled away.

  "Fuck,” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair as he walked a few steps away with his back to me. I was battling to recover from the pure lust he’d aroused with his kiss, and felt my temper rising in its place. This was sexual harassment. I took a few steps towards him.

  "Who the hell do you think you are, Mr. Carter?” I spat out. ”You think you can just treat me like garbage all the time just because I work for you, then kiss me as if it’s part of my job?"

  He turned around seething and swiftly walked right up to me, driving me to the edge of the conference table.

  Without another word, he kissed me as ravenously as he had before, while unzipping the back of my skirt and pushing it down my hips. His kisses became desperate as he sucked my tongue and licked deep into my mouth.

  My hands came up around his neck, digging into his hair while I pulled him to me.

  He lifted my ass onto the table, then unbuttoned my blouse and pushed it down my shoulders. I pulled off his tie then rapidly unbuttoned his shirt, throwing them on the pile with my clothes. Seeing his ripped arms and tightly laced abs heightened my lust as I ran my fingers over his ridged torso. He pulled me to the edge of the table, opening my legs so he could stand between them, his rock solid crotch against mine.

  His kissed became less angry yet remained intense as he slid his hands in circles down my back and ass. />
  "What color is your pussy?” he whispered against my lips.

  "Black," I answered between his kisses.

  "I want to taste it," he whispered back as he gently pushed me to lie back on the table.

  He inserted his forefinger inside my lacy, white panties through the side and ran it up and down my bare waxed lips. I felt nervous about how he would react when he saw my clit which was swollen with arousal. He kept one hand on my thigh and looked at me as he gently brushed his finger over my lips and around my clit. I bit my bottom lip to stifle a cry that was threatening to erupt. He made brief eye contact with me to gauge my reaction, then pulled my panties aside to look at my sex.

  He cursed then suddenly covered my sex with his lips, sucking and licking ravenously. I raised my head from the table and looked down at him licking my clit and swirling around it with his tongue. Watching his ivory-colored skin contrasting with mine, as his tongue darted around my clit was sending me close to the edge. My back arched against the table, as I groaned and gasped uncontrollably, trying to absorb the sensation of pleasure I felt.

  He stood up suddenly, roughly pulling down my panties over my hips.

  "I can’t believe this pussy has been this close to me all this time," he said as he worked my panties off my shoes.

  He immediately went back down on me, lifting and spreading my legs, placing them over his sinewy shoulders while he licked and sucked with ruthless skill, gently pulling my large clit with his lips while dancing his tongue over it. He went lower, repeatedly thrusting his stiffened tongue into the tightening opening of my sex, tormenting me with shallow plunges.

  I cried out with arousal, grabbing his hair with my hand, circling and grinding my hips against his skilful lips.

  He reached his strong beautiful hands onto my breasts, stroking them through my white lacy bra. He brought me up to a sitting position and kissed me passionately again, his lips softer and tasting of moist sex.

  "I want to see your nipples," he gasped through his kisses.

  He expertly unclasped the front of my bra, allowing my breasts to spill into his waiting hands.

  He stroked my breasts, tracing his pale fingers over my dark nipples. His hands were shaking as he tried to control his arousal.

  "Look at the contrast," he whispered, looking at my breasts with obvious lust. I knew what he meant. Seeing his ivory hands on my dark brown skin was mind-blowing.

  "You are a little temptress, do you know that?" he asked, flicking his tongue over my nipples.

  I threw my head back and groaned, little sparks traveling down to my clit with each lick. I leaned back while he sucked my nipples and pulled him closer, rubbing my bare sex against his straining crotch.

  "If I’m a little temptress, what are you going to do about it?”

  He raised his head to look at me and I saw him accept the challenge in his eyes as he kissed my lips while fumbling with the closure of his pants. I paused from kissing him to look down to see his cock. Seeing the magnificent, clean, cut dick and its thick, large size had me gasping audibly in shock and anticipation. I’d been told all my life that all white men had small dicks and here he was destroying all my misconceptions in the flesh. I kissed him more desperately, pulling him closer to me. I felt him smiling through the kisses; clearly pleased with my reaction. He fumbled in his pocket and I heard a distinct sound of ripping foil, then felt him rolling a condom over his massive cock. His hands came back to my breasts and I tried to push his cock into my sex with my leg up against the back of his thighs, but he resisted.

  "That’s not how I’m taking you," he said, pulling me forward onto my feet.

  In one swift move, he turned me around to face the table, bending me over it.

  "I want to fuck you with this juicy ass in my face,” he said huskily, then he spread my thighs and slowly slid his cock into my sex. For a moment he paused, breathing heavy panting breaths, trying to control himself. My sex clenched frantically around his dick attempting to accommodate his thick cock. I began to move my ass, desperately needing him to increase the pace.

  "Fuck, Lena," he growled through gritted teeth and began to fuck relentlessly, while grabbing and stroking my ass. I glanced back at him and found him focused on my ass as he fucked desperately, slapping his thighs against mine, his face drawn with lust and pleasure.

  “Oh, shit,” I cried, feeling the pleasure rippling through my sex and traveling to my core.

  He drove me through layers of pleasure with the strength and passion he was thrusting with; I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer and I moved my ass up and down on his dick with rapid motion.

  "Lena, slow down, fuck... I can’t---"

  "---Yes you can," I gasped, moving on his dick faster, chasing the orgasm that was surfacing in my core.

  With several hard thrusts, he growled out his orgasm, gripping my ass firmly in his large strong hands. I cried out as his orgasm tore through him, igniting my own and at last, pushing me over the edge of a delicious precipice.

  He collapsed onto my back and we lay there for several seconds having had the ride of our lives.

  We were breathing heavily, our bodies slick with sweat; that was the most amazing sex I’d ever had in my life. As my breathing evened out, reality began to dawn on me. In that instant I realized what I’d just done; I’d slept with my horrible white boss who I hated. I’d not tried to stop him; I’d gone along with his demands and I gave in, just like that, to become his willing bed wench. I stiffened as the tension began to fill my thoughts. He felt me stiffen and raised himself up. He pulled my arm to help me up and turn me around to face him. I stood there, naked before him except for my heels and jewelry, while he was shirtless, his pants low on his hips.

  Suddenly, dismay at what I’d allowed to happen struck me and before I knew what I was thinking, I slapped Mr. Carter, hard across the face. He took it unflinchingly, slowly raising his hand to his cheek, while staring at me with a look of horror. I turned away and began to search for my clothes, separating his stuff from mine. I sensed him standing there for a moment before he pulled his pants up and I heard the clinking of a belt being secured around his waist. I dressed as quickly as I could without wearing my underwear. I found my bra on the table and stuffed it into my purse. I looked around briefly for my panties and not finding them, proceeded to straighten my clothes.

  I stole a glance at him and saw him facing the table where we’d just fucked, leaning forward with his palms flat, his head hanging down.

  I could tell he regretted what’d happened. I could not face being fired right now after what we’d done, then daring to assault my boss. I had to leave. I quickly closed my laptop without shutting it down, grabbed my purse and left the conference room, shutting the door behind me.

  Chapter Three

  The entire building was empty now with all personnel probably at home with their families, doing sane stuff like normal people do. I checked my watch, it was 8.00pm. Wow. I’d just fucked my boss in the conference room. I was worried he might follow me to say something unpleasant, so I rushed to the elevator and went straight down to the basement parking.

  I did my walk of shame as quickly as I could, headed towards my car; my knees shaky from the mind blowing orgasm my boss had just given me. I made it to my car, threw my stuff inside and drove home to my apartment, silent with trepidation at what would happen next. What was I going to do?

  I decided to call my friend from college, Shereen, who was now living in New York for advice. She’d shamelessly slept with several men of all races at multiple workplaces since college; she’d know what to do. When she answered the call and I told her what’d happened, she cackled loudly, making me hold the phone away from my ear.

  “Listen, Lena,” she advised, “it’s probably going to happen again, especially if he was as good as you say he was.”

  “But I hit him,” I protested.

  “Oh please. He’s a white male. The bastard is probably into that shit,” she laughed.


  “No, Shereen. I know he definitely regretted it and I’m probably going to lose my job over this.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ll bet you anything, you guys are going to fuck again before the week is out.”

  She was no help at all.

  When I woke up the next morning I found myself wide awake and alert from the moment I opened my eyes. Ordinarily when I woke up in the morning, I was pretty groggy and regularly set the snooze button two or three times, before sleepily making my way to the gym downstairs. But this morning I woke up with my heart pounding in my chest. I was going to have to face Mr. Carter this morning after what we had done. Any other day I might have avoided him, but this morning we had a meeting at 9.00am with other Account Executives to give updates on the current prospects we were working on. We had this meeting every Tuesday and only an urgent client appointment could excuse an employee from attending. When Mr. Carter was around, he chaired this meeting; addressing each account executive individually. In two previous meetings he managed to attend since I joined the department, he’d been mostly curt or dismissive of most of my contributions. I just knew he was prejudiced and my rapid success with clients was something he found offensive.

  Shaking your big booty all over my office, he’d said last night. Although I was in shape and worked out consistently four times a week, I knew I had curves I could never get rid of and had long since accepted them. I was 5 feet 5 inches tall, had a black woman’s body with a small waist and round butt and I was happy with it for the most part. I heard compliments from black men all the time, but I was certain white men did not like booty. They liked their women skinny and flat. I recalled the type of women my boss had been linked to in the tabloids; they were mostly beauty queen look-alikes with blonde hair and tiny asses. In that instant, I suddenly understood something about men, they will try anything once. Realization hit me; my boss was just experimenting like his Southern ancestors had done before him. They slept with black women just to kill a curiosity, and then sold them down the river when they’d had enough.