Carla's Diary


Neal Green had trudged up three flights of steps to the third floor landing
to discover the familiar figure of a young woman propped up against the
outside of his apartment door. For just a moment, he was caught in the grip
of nostalgia from twenty years back. This couldn't be Carla, could it? The
blonde hair with naturally weathered streaks of saffron for highlights,
shimmering blue eyes and the provocative smile that could hold a man's
thought for an eternity-what was she doing here?

Then his fantasy woman spoke in a distinctly different voice than the one
he remembered. "Hi, Neal, Glad you're home."

As his old memory bubbled burst forth into the present, Neal recognized the
alluring young woman. "Cady, how'd you get passed the security door down in
the lobby?"

"I pressed all the buttons and said, 'Package delivery.' You know how
greedy people can be."

"Well, you'd better come in," Neal said as he unlocked his door. "It's cold
out here."

"Not as cold as it is outside." The daughter of his former best friend and
the woman he had once loved, the young blonde standing in Neal's doorway
kicked off her shoes and began to peel off her socks. "Hope you don't mind.
I just had to come by to see you."

"Your feet are all wet," the associate professor for African American
studies at Northern State University said. "What'd you do-walk?"

"Part of the way. I took the bus most of the way."

"The bus line ends at the mall," Neal pointed out. "That's almost a three
mile trudge through the February snows."

"I am a little cold." Cady nodded her head and then shivered. "Do you have
any coffee?"

"Not made."

"Could we make some?"

"All right. In the meantime, I'll find you some warm socks."

When Neal returned with a pair of thick cotton socks, he saw that Cady had
slinked out of her black print stretch leggings and was barelegged with
just a pair of high cut nylon panties covering her ass. Cady possessed the
same sweet shaped rear end that her mother had displayed 20 years ago. Neal
found himself fighting back an uncalled-for male response.

Rummaging through his kitchen cupboards, Cady asked: "Where do you keep
your coffee filters?"

"Don't you think we should call your parents?"

"No," she replied. "I mean that's not necessary. They're not expecting me
back tonight."

"Is that so?"

"I'd really like some coffee."

"All right." Neal went through the motions of pulling out the coffee can
and filters. "Cady, what are you doing here besides catching cold?"

"Making coffee."

Neal sighed. "Answer the question."

Slipping between Neal's body and the kitchen counter, she took over the
preparations for the coffee. "I wanted to...I wanted to see you."

He waited for Cady to finish her sentence, but she stopped, bit at her
lower lip, and then said, "Besides don't you know what today is?"

He looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall. "February tenth?"

"Exactly!" She answered. Then Cady Carter stopped what she was doing and
reached out to touch Neal on the shoulder. "I thought tonight it might be
appropriate to..."

Finally, Neal prompted her, "Appropriate for what?"

"Well, since it's February the tenth, it might be a good night to ask..."
she shrugged slightly. "If...maybe-you'd..."

"What's all this about February tenth?"

After a deep breath, she blurted out. "I'd like you to make love to me."

"What?"

"Well, I know you've been divorced for a while, and Dad says you haven't
been dating or anything." Cady hesitated. "I've seen the way you look at my
mother sometimes. Worse yet, I've seen the way Carla looks at you."

Neal was caught by surprise. "Just how does she look at me, Cady?"

"Like she wants to do something drastic. Like she's going to hurt my Dad. I
mean I wouldn't blame you."

"Blame me for what?"

"Well...Carla is still striking and...sexy, and you're only a man."

Neal nodded. "Guilty."

"I won't let her destroy my father's marriage," Cady answered. "Not when I
can do something about it."

"Well, Cady, you certainly think like your mother."

As she brushed passed him to plug in the coffee maker, Cady patted Neal's
butt. "I'll bet I'm just as good in bed, too."

"Now wait a minute! I never..."

"Don't try to lie, Neal. I've read Mom's diary." Cady nuzzled close to
Neal's chest where she began to finger the buttons on his shirt. "She
thought she really loved you, but your color frightened her."

"I always thought so," he replied. "Carla pushed me away once she found out
she was pregnant."

She watched his face while he mused about the past. Cady's mother had
written in her diary that she was not sure whom her baby's father would
turn out to be. She had told her diary all about her fears for the baby's
heritage.

Finally, Neal continued: "Carla and Frank seemed quite relieved when you
were born..."

"...White?" Cady interrupted. "Yeah, I know. She wrote in her diary that
she was relieved that I didn't turn out to be half black."

"She told me later that she didn't want your father to find out."

"That's not true, Neal. Mom didn't want anyone else to find out. I'm pretty
sure that Dad knew, and he understood."

"What?"

"Dad understood that he ran a close second back then, Neal, and you were
just as special to him as you were to Carla. But I don't think he could
handle it again after so many years. I won't let Mom put him through that.
Besides, I already know you'll be okay."

His dark brown eyes locked onto her blue ones. "And how do you know that?"

She grinned. "How many times have you heard people say that I look just
like my mother?"

Neal was left speechless for a second. Cady was the very image of Carla
twenty years ago, back when they were all at the university together. He
had never forgotten that vision of the woman he'd desired most over the
years. "Yes, it's true."

"Haven't you ever noticed that..." Blushing, Cady stared down at the rich
brown coffee dripping into the clear carafe. "...That I look at you in the
same way she does?"

Finally, he spoke softly. "Are you sure that's a good enough reason."

"Then how about because I'm really horny," Cady replied.

Neal smiled. "But Cady why me? You could have anyone you wanted."

"Isn't it obvious? It's heredity. I've wanted to hold you as close as my
mother did ever since I was old enough to understand the facts of life."

"You can be very convincing when you want to be, can't you."

Cady rushed over and threw her arms around Neal. "Yes!"

Their hug slowly turned into a series of small friendly kisses which
suddenly transformed into a long sensuous kiss between two hungry adults,
even though one was male and a little over forty, while the other was
female and not quite twenty years of age.

Christ, he thought, trying to fight down his erection. This is wrong. This
is really wrong. But Neal's erection proved to be more powerful than his
willpower, as he stood fascinated by Cady's speedy disrobing. The young
woman seemed to be as excited as a newlywed without the benefit of a
wedding ring. Impetuously she struggled with the buttons and the zipper of
a man she had known all her life as an older sex symbol. Cady Carter
courted this new rite of passage with a man twice her age-Neal Green.

Intellectually, she understood the ramifications of her decision, but with
the impulsiveness of her youth, Cady didn't want to think about anything
beyond her glorious aspirations of the moment. Though she knew none of this
would make sense to anyone else, Cady had desired Neal-the whole of
Neal-for a long time.

Both Neal Green and Cady Carter were self-consciously aware that presently
there would be no space between them at all-that he would seek to fit all
of his size, all of his strength, and all of his need within the
delightfully acquiescent confines of her naked loins. Waiting nervously on
her back, Cady both watched and felt Neal Green straddle and crawl along
the peach smooth exposed skin of her thighs, her hips and her abdomen.

Neal positioned his black hardness carefully at the vertex of her
underbelly, His spongy glans prodded gently at the soft pink lips of Cady's
labia until her moist, inviting tissues gave way to one of his eager
probes, allowing him to press forward and lodge his penis firmly into
conjunction with her swelling loins.

Soon he'd penetrated Cady's vagina. Her sweet moist acceptance of Neal made
her intromission that much more savory. Lapping softly at his dark
erection, drawing him deeper inside her, urging him to liberate the
excitement inherent in his responsive essence, his naked penis basked
inside her now, as she sheathed all of him. Neal had the privilege of
sinking luxuriantly into her firm and supple warmth, into the now swollen
labia of the young woman whom he desired as much as she wanted him. There
was a lot of love inside this young woman, Neal realized, and he was the
man privileged to discover it.

Their lovemaking was slow, lazy, and achingly tender. Filled with much
nuzzling and wordless murmuring and soft-soft stroking, it became a series
of dreamy sensations: a feeling of floating, a feeling of being composed
only of bright light, warmth, and energy. In its wake was the exhilaration
of pure weightlessness as if their world tumbled around them or they had
capsized within the wet womb of another world. What may have started as an
act of sexual release transformed into an act of emotional bonding. In the
tiny swirling universe inside Neal's apartment there were but two people
slow dancing in naked intimacy. Something spiritual was pledged as his
flesh melded to her flesh.

As he plunged into her, Cady wrapped her limbs around Neal's muscular
torso. Her bare arms and legs coiled, coaxing his deft thrusts down deep
into her abdomen and loins. The older black man moaned and the younger
white woman flushed with the excitement of his impending release, wrenched
by the pure tension in their intimate tango. As their rhythm climaxed, she
undulated smoothly under his weight and under the strength of his lead. As
Neal Green sucked in a gasp of air, their compelling music pulsed with
naked frenzy in the depths of their loins.

Cady opened her eyes wide and looked hard at her lover's rough, rugged
complexion. 'My, my,' she realized, 'He's there!' Lifting his hips, his
thighs, his entire body nearly off the bed, Neal Green grunted. His grasp
on Cady was so strong that her pale body and splayed loins rose up off the
bed held fast by the gripping momentum of his embrace.

Utterly awake, totally aware, and hungry for experience, nineteen year old
Cady Carter held her breath involuntarily as her forty-two year old black
partner clutched her unremittingly against him. Inside she trembled. Was
this really happening to her? Hard to believe she had really asked for this
soft, wet, enveloping of his naked potency with no question about birth
control.

Neal was a typical man after all, Cady thought. He hadn't even bothered to
ask whether she'd taken any precautions, and Cady had pursued him as
unremittingly as she sensed her mother would have if Carla'd had the
chance. Stop it! She wasn't doing this to show up Carla, she was doing this
for her own wants, her own pleasures, and her own needs. Besides, Cady was
prepared to face the consequences.

Suddenly Neal made a sound like panting stallion, and his entire body cut
loose with a shudder. When at last he'd spurted deep within her velvety
recesses, Neal felt as if he were fusing with Cady, melting into her, and
becoming one with her. The measure of his gift to her flourished anew in
white viscous fluidity. As he'd bucked and pulsated, pure wet heat burst
forth from his body's single escape route, but the rush of his semen toward
escape was short-lived. The only place it could flow was into the gentle
warmth and wetness, which were such an integral part of his loving, young
white paramour.

But Cady Carter made no attempt to escape from Neal's newfound liquid
urgency. Cady's body was protecting his long, rolling sweeps of lusty
liquid life within her. Soon hoards of swimming gametes mobbed and searched
the enfilades of her interior paths. This then was Neal's primal meld-his
body's attempt to transmit his teeming seed into the ardent safety of
Cady's naked womb.

"Oooh, my..God," she moaned as her own body quivered in the subtle
shivering glow of an orgasm. Finally, laying quietly under him, holding his
still dripping penis warmly sequestered deep within her cunt, Cady
murmured, "That...was...really...awesome!"

Neal grunted a guttural affirmative as he pulled slowly out from her and
rolled off to the side of the bed. Thank God, Neal thought. He was
exhausted-totally out of practice. Then he chuckled to himself. In many
ways, Cady really was an exact replica of her mother.

Cady stretched cat-like across the bed, and teased his masculine shaft with
her fingers.

"So what did you think?" she asked. "Was I as good as Carla?"

"No. You're better."

"Good." Again the cat, she began to preen herself, licking the sticky semen
from her fingers. "You're so quiet. What are you thinking about now?"

"I'm thinking that we forgot about the coffee."

Giggling, she rolled slightly over and snuggled up against his chest.

"Cady, what was all that stuff about February the tenth?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" Cady watched as Neal shook his head.
"It's from Mom's diary! This is the twenty-first anniversary of the first
time you fucked Carla."