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The story of a family with an interesting dynamic.

I know that there were men who fantasized about being with two women, or watching as the two women were together, but I definitely was not one of those women! The last fading rays of sunshine faded, and night fell, almost with a thump, like they say in the movies. As my heels click-clacked down the sidewalk, my breeze began to get a little stronger, and it took more effort to control my skirt. The filmy satin floated about with every step, my pussy getting excited as the breeze tickled my bikini-trimmed hair, and my nipples rising as the soft satin covering them teased and tickled them.

I crossed an alley to get to the entrance of the club I saw, and glanced down it. It looked like any old alley, dark, dirty, and scary (at least to me), and I could see a couple of guys down there, sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the buildings. They were filthy dirty, and obviously homeless. I felt sad for them, a pang of guilt flashing through me as I looked at them, making eye contact. Their sad eyes telling me a story of horrors and sadness that I could not really associate with. My skirt was flitting about pretty hard by now, and I was sure they got a good look at me, before I realized I was gawking and needed to be on my way. I continued to the next doorway, muffled hip-hop music now blaring from it.

As dark was it was outside, it still took a moment for my eyes to adjust inside the room. The place was flooded with black light, the walls adorned with day-glo artwork and posters that literally glowed in the dark. It was actually a pretty neat display, and my eyes were drawn to the various splashes of color and light as I took steps toward the bar area. I found a small table, and took a seat. I smoothed the hem of my skirt out as I sat there, my eyes looking around. As I looked about, I began to realize that the place was actually fairly busy, but not crowded, with patrons. The one thing I did notice was that none of them seemed to be caucasian, and there were many pairs of eyes on me.

Like my first tryst, it made me feel very uncomfortable, and I unconsciously gulped down a load of fear, and remembering that my last time with a black man was exquisite, I let a small smile crease my face. A waitress in a uniform even smaller than my dress came over, and I ordered a glass of Chablis, which arrived quickly. I took a sip of the chilled liquid, the heavy beat of the music reverberating though my body, my stomach bouncing with every drumbeat. More patrons entered, and I was glad my table was tucked away to the side of the room. As the sound system boomed, I found my body beginning to react to the beat, my head nodding in time my shoulders took turns shrugging to match the pulse of the music.

I had gone about halfway through my Chablis when the first gentleman joined me. He was slender, almost to the point of being gaunt, and not very tall. I thought that if I stood up, he would actually be shorter than me! He smiled as he sat at the table, and asked if I wanted another drink, to which I declined, and he left, muttering I was a cock tease who would be put in my place. I ignored this threat and continued to just sit and watch the room, taking smaller sips of wine so I wouldn't get tipsy. Another black man approached me, and I have to admit he was rather stunning. My mouth must have dropped open as he approached, his well over six foot frame topped by a wide smile of very bright teeth. He was bald, and in his dark shirt and tan slacks looked very nice. He leaned to my ear, and asked rather nicely if he may join me. I simply smiled and motioned to the empty seat.

He said his name was Dewan, and offered to refill my glass, since my Chablis was just about gone.

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