The first part of Simone that Ray saw were her toes. He looked over from his digging to the edge of the pit, and there they were—brown, perfectly formed, and decorated with purple nail polish—in flip-flops. Not cheap Walmart flip-flops but nice leather ones from a high-end department store.
Ray looked up. The sun was directly over her head, so he only saw a shapely silhouette in a summer dress, large sunglasses, and a round, shady hat.
“You’re the waterfall guy?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Ray Perkins.”
“Simone.” She was sipping from a glass. “You dig all this yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am. I started yesterday. This is where the tank for your water feature will be. I should have the whole thing done in a couple weeks.”
“So, you’ll be here working every day?”
“Yes, ma’am. Will you be stopping by?” The house was unoccupied. Simone and her fiancé Phil planned to move in after the wedding in a month.
“I think I will.”
She turned to go, but Ray asked, “Uh, ma’am, would you mind if I got a drink from the hose every so often.”
“That’s fine.”
Ray watched as she walked away. The closer she got to the house, the more he was able to make her out. Her hair was in long braids decorated with wooden beads. The yellow dress was thin and moved in the wind. Each fluctuation of the fabric teased her form—round hips, tight waist, full breasts, long legs. Ray could feel his cock swell in his mud-splattered jeans.
Simone paused on the steps. She could feel his eyes on her. She smoothed her dress with her right hand, letting the hand dwell on her butt cheek. She wanted him to memorize her figure and hoped he would be fantasizing about her as he sweated in the hot sun.
The house Simone’s fiancé had purchased for them was empty. As her flip-flops echoed on the hardwood floors, Simone recalled Phil proudly showing where the display cases would go for his action-figure collection. He had also sketched out a video gaming area. Apparently, a rich black guy can be just as big a pussy as a rich white guy. True, Phil was kind, and he was a gentleman. He would provide a good life for her, but Simone harbored a secret need that gnawed at her and demanded satisfaction.
Simone had a redneck fetish.
Her dad had been a hardhat who worked on big construction sites. Sometimes she would go with him to work. Even when she was a little girl, she was fascinated by the white guys who worked with her dad. They had uneven tans, making their bodies weird abstract art. Their tattoos shone brightly, and there were so many designs, from cartoon characters to naked women. She could count every hair on a white guy’s chest and arms. As she blossomed into womanhood, these sweaty white guys haunted her fantasies.
She lost her virginity to one of her dad’s coworkers. Her folks were throwing a big party in the backyard, and Simone, sixteen and ripe, had lured Buck up to her room. She picked Buck to fuck because he had a Confederate flag tatt on his bicep. Somehow that made the whole thing dirtier, more forbidden. This racist prick would have owned slaves if he had the chance, and Simone was going to let him break the seal on her throbbing black pussy.
It all went quickly. As soon as they were in her room, Simone stripped off her clothes, and Buck followed her lead. When she saw Buck standing there naked, his cock sticking out red and hard, Simone could feel the lips of her pussy swell. She had no idea what to do, but it didn’t matter. Buck was on her in a second. His hard body pressed down on her. His smell filled her nose. She wished there was time to caress every muscle that rippled under his rough white hide.
Simone took a deep breath because she knew it would hurt when her cherry popped. Buck thrust his cock inside her roughly, like a battering ram through a door. The pain wrung tears from her eyes, but so did the pleasure. His cock filled her gap. She could feel every vein in it as it moved back forth inside her. Simone watched the rebel flag wave as Buck gyrated his body with increasing force.
Suddenly, he pulled his dick out and pointed it at her. A hot white fluid shot out of it and fell across her breasts and stomach. Buck pumped the dick and stream after stream was added to the glistening splatter on her brown skin. He dressed and left, but she laid on the bed for a while after. Every cell in her body felt like it was glowing.
Simone topped the stairs and went to the master bedroom. A window looked out on the back yard. She watched Ray chopping at dirt with a pick. Shirtless, covered in a mixture of sweat, dust, and mud, Ray had just the kind of body that made Simone pant with arousal. As Ray raised the pick and brought it down hard, Simone could see every muscle in his arms, chest, and back move. Ray wasn’t “cut” like a dude who spends every day at the gym; his muscles were the kind that came working every day in the hot sun. She imagined how his muscles would feel when their bodies were pressed together, when her hands were rubbing his back, when her nails were digging into his skin as an orgasm rushed through her.
When Ray climbed out of the pit to get a sip from the hose, Simone checked out his jeans to see what delights might lie within. His butt looked hard, like a girl could chip a tooth if she tried to bite it. The bulge behind his fly was promising. It had to be bigger than Phil’s. Simone had managed to find the only black guy with a teeny weenie.
Ray slurped a drink from the hose, then raised it over his head and sprayed himself. Water rained down on his bare torso, creating little rivers that traced unique paths over his rippling skin. Simone raised her dress and was glad she had worn no panties. Her fingers found her clit, thick with excitement, and rubbed. By the time Ray walked back to his work, his wet body glistening in the sunlight, Simone had to slip down to the floor. Lying on her back, Simone worked her clit and pussy with a savage desperation. She came loud and hard, flopping on the floor like a landed fish. She wondered if Ray had heard her screams of pleasure and if he knew they were for him.
Simone resolved that when Ray left for the day it would be with balls drained of every drop of fluid.
Ray looked at his work with pride. The tank pit was ready and the pond prep was almost there. He just needed to dig ruts for the pipes from the tank to the house. Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw Simone coming toward him, extending a glass of lemonade.
She was wearing the hat and the flip-flops and nothing else.
Ray stood frozen, unable even to think. Simone said, “You look like you need a drink.” She handed him the glass, but it fell through his fingers.
“Oops, fumble-fingers. I’ll get you another.” She moved closer and licked sweat from his neck. “Mmmmm. I love the taste of something salty on my tongue.”
As she walked back to the house, Ray stared longingly at her brown ass, which was full but taut. He could feel his hands on it, squeezing and slapping it.
When Simone returned with a fresh glass of lemonade, she was wearing the dress again. She noticed the thick bulge in his jeans with satisfaction and anticipation. It was an impressive bulge.
She handed him the lemonade. “Enjoy. Stay hydrated. In this heat, a guy’s liable to start seeing things.”
The sun was beginning to set as Ray gathered his tools and put them in his truck. The image of Simone walking away haunted his mind. That was the finest ass he’d ever seen. After she left him, he’d barely been able to work.
His dick was shouting at him to go into the house and mount her. His brain insisted that he stay outside. Whatever game she was playing, it would likely end with him getting fired by her fiancé. She was sweet, but he’d already bought the supplies for the job. The debate between his two heads was intense, but he stood to lose thousands of dollars. No piece of ass was worth that, he tried to convince himself.
Ray heard the back door shut. Simone was backlit by the orange and red sky. No hat and flip-flops this time. She was standing in the yard naked.