Ethnic
2006-06-18

I watched today as you fired a young black gentleman who has been with your firm for more than ten years. During your meeting with this gentleman, you stated the main reason for dismissal was due to lack of work performance? In your mind does lack of work performance constitute caring for child who is stricken with cancer? Margaret in order for us to reach an understanding, I feel compelled to remind you about an event which occurred a week after your eighteenth birthday? Do you remember the black stranger in the woods? It was a magnificent spring day and you were working in the Hallmark shop. A rather attractive black man wearing a light gray suit approached your position at the checkout counter. Do you remember how it felt to touch his soft black skin as you were counting back his change? If I recall, you couldn’t help but notice the size of his large strong hands and his well-manicured nails. Do you remember the business card you found on the counter after he left the store? I remember the apprehensive look that flashed across your face when you looked up to question the cryptic message printed on the back. “Meet me in the woods behind the store”. During lunch you retrieved the card from your smock. Slowly running a finger over the message as if blind, you tried to decipher the message written in Braille. Why then if you were unsure of his intentions did you go into the woods? After you locked the front door to the store that evening, placing the keys in your front pocket, you retrieved the note once again. I watched your lips move silently as you read the note. I remember your gaze as you turned your head sideways to glance towards the woods. Margaret, if I didn’t know you so well, sometimes I would mistake your decisions for nativity. However we both know that there is an unseen force hidden in your soul, which makes you your own worst enemy. I must admit I had quite a chuckle as you stepped to the edge of the forest sheepishly peering through the first few branches. The look on your face brought back the memory of the first time I read Little Red Riding Hood. Remember the look she had on her face before she entered the woods? She too wondered if the Big Bad Wolf was waiting behind a tree ready to pounce and eat her.

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   As you began to pick your way through overgrown weeds and bushes, birds were singing their evening hymns, and squirrels were husking the last morsels of their nuts for the day.

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Do you remember the rush and apprehension when you saw him leaning against a log that had fallen? Why didn’t you turn and run away? Did thoughts of your racist blue-collar father cross your mind? Given your penchant for categorizing and stereotyping people, were you surprised to see that his elegant suit had been replaced? What have you always said about men dressed in T-shirts wearing jeans wrapped with black leather chaps? Margaret, I must say given your nativity at such a tender age, you knew of what words his eyes silently spoke. Without hesitation you knelt before him, unzipped his jeans and took him in your mouth. Relishing his taste, your tongue explored the blood-engorged vein that ran down the middle of his black cock as your head slowly bobbed up and down keeping time with the rhythm of the birds song. If I recall a smile crossed his lips as you stood before him and unbuttoned your slacks. Wisps of sunlight revealed the soaked crotch of your white panties as your slacks fell around your ankles. Do you remember the deep moan that escaped your lips as he lifted your sweater, his fingertips pinching your erect nipples before languishingly stroking the tender skin of your belly? Growing weak in the knees, your body slowly swayed as you surrendered to his touch instinctively finding the wetness between your thighs. Placing his mouth on the crotch of your panties, do you remember the sensation of his hot breath as he licked and sucked your aching pussy through the soft fabric? Did you feel vulnerable as the black stranger stepped behind you slowly sliding his hands down over your trembling hips separating your panties from your soft white skin? When he cupped your wet mound his hand holding you like a delicate flower. I remember how you lifted your hips as fingers lightly stroked your vulva spreading your inner sanctuary, knowledgeable fingers sliding inside touching all of your secret places. Margaret, do you remember how you shuttered with excitement as he slowly pulled your panties down over your round bottom a slight breeze kissing your exposed buttocks? Spreading your thick thighs for him you bent over the log, as goose bumps sent shivers of up and down your spine. Closing your eyes in sweet anticipation of being taken, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. As he slowly pushed himself inside of you, what memories came floating back as he snugly quenched your needy soul? Closing your eyes you whimpered as he grabbed a handful of your long red hair, pulling your head up, softly nibbling your slender neck.

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He whispered in your ear that the fragrance of your hair reminded him of cherry blossoms basking in the morning sun when he was a child. I remember how you spoke of being lost in a heavenly ocean your mind and body surrendering to his rhythm. Sensing the cresting waves within your swirling ocean, the ripples of his muscular buttocks rhythmically slowed as the tidal wave in your soul raced for the shore? Withdrawing from your warm depths, he stood and smiled, turning your head your eyes met, as he looked deep into the murky depths of your soul.

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   You moaned breathlessly crying for him to stay, your eyes begging that he take you into unspoken realms so you could truly feel free. As he looked into your eyes he reached between your open thighs fingertips lightly stroking your engorged lips. With curled fingers he filled his cup bathing his glistening sex in your briny juices? As he delicately parted your quivering buttocks, you grew faint from the sensations as knowledgeable strokes satiated the yearning of your craving soul introducing it to distant lands. Floating on a bed of flowers, soaring high above looking down upon the scene through the trees you saw that he wore only his chaps Were memories of leather from long ago fresh in your mind when the crest of your tidal wave washed into a shimmering pool upon your shore of your thighs as came? Upon retrieving your panties from around your ankles, you stood. I couldn’t help but see the sparkle in your eyes. I remember how you touched your lips with delicate fingers and smiled savoring his sticky cum. I must say it did hurt when I saw tears on your cheeks as the sound of his motorcycle faded into the evening air. Margaret I am sorry but I must leave you for today. Until we spend time together again, I would like to ask you a question. Why did you really fire that gentleman today? Was it due to his lack of work performance? Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned he spent most of his time reading fairy tales to his daughter, specifically Little Red Riding Hood. Sincerely, Anonymous @ Copyright 2003, Scorpiosting. All Rights Reserved. .