A large man entered the room. He wore a dew-rag, white tank top, and gym shorts that slid below his ass. He held the baggy of weed out toward Taylor, but as she snatched for it, he yanked the dope away.
Taylor curled her brow. "What's the deal, Tee?"
Burden Tee hunkered on his scarred sofa, cotton reached out from the busted seams. "Before I give you this, I need to know that me and you are cool."
"How long have I known—"
"Stop." Tee wagged his finger at her. "Are you the type of bitch to watch Roots backwards just to get a happy ending?"
"What the fuck are you going on about?"
"That neo-nazi shit on the news."
"You know about that?"
Tee nodded. "I seen ya marchin' with all them other crackas in Charlottesville."
"And?"
"You forget what color I am?"
Taylor cleared her throat. She sprung up from the beanbag, hands on her hips. "It doesn't matter. My money speaks. That is all."
"So, you are racist... I should have known by them shit-kickers you always wear." Tee sighed, disappointed. "Sorry, baby-girl. Can't sell to ya no mo."
"I'm not a fuckin' bigot." Taylor folded her arms, angrily tapping her foot. "Liberals are just stepping over the line. They're trying to take down our—"
"Racist-ass statues."
"Hate to break it to ya," Taylor challenged, "but the Civil War was fought over state's rights."
"Don't give me that ole bullshit," Tee replied. "I know my history."
"Oh yeah? From that white-hate propaganda?" Taylor asked rhetorically. "They'll have you believe crackas are all cave dwellers with hunched shoulders and tails."
"Better than your Ku-Klux-Klan tellin' everyone we're all monkeys."
Taylor clenched her jaw and turned to a nice flat screen hanging on the far wall. "Nice TV. You loot it during a BLM protest?"
Tee laughed off her insult and simply returned, "Get out."
Taylor's stance softened. She began to panic for the drug. "Come on. I-I'll give you double."
"Wow!"
"So, you will?"
"No," Tee snapped. "I'm just surprised how you're reacting right now. You're not in 'Hollywood' hills anymore, Dorothy. You're white privilege isn't gonna benefit you here."
"I didn't bring my white privilege card with me, was afraid it might get stolen 'round here." Taylor's glare, once again, sharpened. "Now, stop fuckin' with me and just give me the goddamn dope."
Tee seemed to find her short temper hilarious. He chuckled aloud while softly whipping the bag of pot like a helicopter propeller. "You want it?"
"Fuckin' yes!" Taylor reached for it, but Tee yanked it away. She tripped and fell over his lap and into the arm rest. Disgusted, she hurriedly jumped up and brushed herself off as though his touch contaminated her.
"What?" Tee scoffed. "You afraid I might give you something?"
"They say aids came from apes," Taylor dauntlessly stated.
"Is that why you rednecks keep it in the family?"
Taylor fumed. She gnawed at her lip. "Listen, my boyfriend is waiting outside. We're really in a rush."
"Prove to me you're not racist."
"Fine," Taylor sighed. "What?"
Tee smiled, showing a gold tooth. He patted his lap for her to take a seat.
"Ha! Sorry. Santa's not black."
"The gift I want to give you wouldn't fit in Santa's bag."
Taylor puckered her lips in rebuke. "That's not the gift I'm looking for."
"It's a gift you'll gladly accept if you want this." Tee leaned up from the couch, twirled the baggy of marijuana.
Taylor blushed, her cheeks as red as the stripes in the confederate flag. Her throat knotted. Her breath hastened. "I don't know about this. My boyfriend is right out—" As her eyes swept over the lime-green weed in his hand, she choked on her words. She shot a nervous glance out the window before turning back to Tee.
"Think of this as a form of reparations."
"That's called welfare," Taylor quipped.
Tee rubbed his palms together. "You're just adding more fuel to the fire."
"This is so fucked up." Taylor unbuttoned her white shirt, unlatched her blacked bra. Her breasts were slender with slight sag, her tiny nipples pink. She scornfully eyed him while wiggling out of her frayed jean shorts. She erected her posture, standing only in her cowboy boots. Her hands hid her nipples.
Tee licked his lips. "Take off them damn shit-kickers. This ain't no fuckin' rodeo."
Taylor sat back on the beanbag, and using a little muscle, she jerked each one off.
Tee gestured for her.
Taylor inched to the foot of the sofa. He grasped her wrist, placed her palm on his crotch. She could feel the bulge through his thin shorts—a thick bulge at that.
Tee pulled the elastic band of his trouser down. His cock stood at attention. "You've never seen a long, black piece like this in the trailer park."
Taylor laughed. "The only things long and black are lines at the fried chicken joint."
"You know what's long and white? Not a damn thing." Tee grasped the back of her head, forcing her forward. "Now I want you to go down like the statue of Robert E. Lee, and give ya boy a nice blowjob."
"I was under the impression blacks didn't like jobs—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Tee slapped her cheek with his thick cock. She sent a fiery glare his way, but he just groped the back of her head and guided her down. As Taylor hesitantly took him in her mouth, Tee grabbed the remote to his stereo and turned it on, setting the mood with an aggressive beat. Her eyes remained opened but averted in disgust. He tried to push her down further, her best seemingly not good enough. She stiffened her neck, gagged, and jerked away. Tee huffed an irritated breath. "Give me your feet. Wrap them damn orangutan toes around me."
Taylor sat up to her elbows with a scowl. She lifted her lanky legs and fitted his massive member between the soft soles of her narrow feet. Tee held her ankles, assisted her motion back and forth. Taylor curled her toes around his girth. Her legs moved in and out as though performing nude crunches, rocking to the rhythm of the song:
(((I'm recruitin' with no dispute
Drive by shootin' on this white genetic mutant.)))
Taylor perked up. "What the fuck did he say? And, I'm the racist?"
"Don't you know black people can't be racist," Tee said with a sardonic smile. He squeezed her bony thighs and dragged her across the dirty carpet, closer to him. He wiggled the tip of his cock at the outer rim of her vulva causing Taylor to squirm. He pinned her shoulders down, eased inside.
Taylor ground her teeth, glowered at him. Her body lurched. "Is that it?'
The jeer quickened Tee's thrust. His strong thighs clapped against hers, rippling her breasts. Her long legs waved in the air. She locked her ankles around his thick waist in hopes of impeding the assault but all it did was add to the pressure. She curled her toes then quickly straightened them. She sprawled her arms out, gripping the carpet with a death clutch. She was beginning to break, but as he looked down on her with a domineering leer, she shook her head and nervously laughed it off.
"Damn, girl, you're tight like a virgin." Tee thrust with vigor, punishing power. "You must've been able to outrun all your brothers."
Taylor squinted in anger, looked away. Her body stiffened, all the way to her pointed toes. Her face turned red as a hillbilly's neck. She uncontrollably quaked. Although she did her best to hold it in, a long grunt forced its way out of her mouth. "Gggghhh! Foo-oo!"
"That's what I call cultural appropriation..." Tee slowed his hips. His carpet was soaked in her juices along with his cock. "...using a black cock to get yourself off without knowing the history behind it."
With a look of disorientation, Taylor caught her breath and shoved Tee back on the sofa. She climbed on top, taking control.
Tee laughed off her aggressiveness but allowed her a chance to redeem herself. She rolled her hips, bounced, and twerked on his cock. His smile sloughed away. He found himself fighting against a premature explosion. His face twitched.
"What's wrong, gangsta? You look a little flustered. Like a runaway slave with nowhere to run." Taylor's grin grew, her hips gyrating faster. As her iphone rang, barely heard over the blaring music, she frustratingly sighed. She leapt off him, checked the number.
Tee exhaled a laborious breath, tried to compose himself.
"Hello?" Taylor raised her voice over the loud rap song. With the phone to her ear, she climbed back on the sofa, this time straddling Tee's face. One foot stayed on the carpet while the other knee dug into the sofa over Tee's shoulder. Her long leg sprawled down his chest, her toes tickled his cock.
"Hey, I'm—" Tee was muffled by her pussy. He tried to say something but gave-in, licking her instead.
Taylor listened to her aggravated boyfriend impatiently bark through the receiver, while slowly grinding on Tee's chin. She rubbed his cock with the top of her foot. She did her best to sound unruffled but there was a slight shake in her tone. "Yeah. Well, we're waiting on his supplier."
Tee placed his hands on her lower back, supporting her, as he stood to his feet. She squealed, her head almost hitting the ceiling fan. She sat atop his shoulders, reversed, her legs dangled at his side. His mouth went to town on her: smacking, licking, and nibbling. She hunched over his head, shuddered. He finally lowered her to the carpet, bent her over the bottom of the sofa. He swatted Taylor's nonexistent backside, leaving a handprint on her pale skin. "Damn, girl. I can crease my slacks on this flat ass."
Taylor flinched from the stinging slap. She covered the phone, glared over her shoulder at him. Yet, as he slid inside her cozy opening, her face softened and she turned away. "Yes. He-Uh!" she moaned in a broken sentence. "He said that-Mmmm!-he was, he was on his way fifteeeee minutes ago." She listened for a moment. "Yessss, I, uh, I know black people's timeframe is different than white people's."
Tee thrust with force. The claps of their skin reverberated through the room.
Taylor's body intensely tickled. She put the phone aside to relieve herself of a wail. After the pleasure escaped her, she placed the phone back to her mouth and attempted to put together a cohesive conversation without whimpering.
Tee reached under and palmed her breasts. He lightly pinched her erect nipples, and with each strong thrust, said, "Tell Hitler... Jesse. Owens. Just. Entered. The race!"
Taylor wiped a euphoric tear from her eye. She muffled the phone once again as Tee rapidly excited her. "Uhh! Ah-ah-ahhhh! Yeah, suuuuure I'll see-ya-innna little, my lovvvv-va-va-va!" Taylor hung up and slung the phone away.
Tee slapped her ass again. "I'm yo daddy, guh!"
"Aw poor thing." Taylor jerked her head around, curled her lip. "Is faaather's day-yae-yae still confusing for you-ou-ou?"
Tee rolled her over, straightened her legs over his shoulders. From there, he began pounding again. "Say 'I.'"
"I..." Taylor said in a winded whisper. She clawed at the carpet, held on for dear life.
"Say 'I. Like.'" Tee's thrust was constant, steady, but his voice quivered like Taylor's legs. His enjoyment was as palpable as hers.
Taylor made an ugly cry-face, not out of sadness moreover pure pleasure. Her body tensed. "I like-uhhhh!"
They both simultaneously spouted out two different names, which sounded like one: "Obarump!"
Tee clasped her chin tightly, forced her vision on him. He tried to act tough, composed, in-control, but his heavy breaths told a different story.
Taylor's legs became numb, her fingers as well. A wave rushed down her spine and into her center, crashing in ecstasy. She bucked.
Tee wheezed, pulled out, and came on her stomach. He collapsed on top of her, his hand hitting the stereo's remote and changing from CD to the radio. A commercial aired as both, breathless, embraced on the carpet. Neither said a word. They looked into one another's eyes, and for a brief moment, race didn't exist. Yet, as the advertisement ended, they snapped out of their daze and sat up, side by side in silence.
((("Welcome back to 186.5 the American Experiment. I'm your host DJ C. Bagger," the radio DJ said. "We got some more hits coming your way from today's hottest new stars. But, before we get to that, let's take a timeout and get serious for a moment. With everything going on in the media, it's easy to fall into the trap of picking sides. Do not let the small minorities of racists change who you are. We work together, live together, and we will push through and survive together. Regardless of your skin tone or your religious belief, we are all one race. The only race that matters... the human race.")))
"Corny!" They, both, blurted at the same time. They glanced to one another, their expressions soft.
((("This next song is for all the level-headed listeners," the DJ said. "The majority of this beautiful country. Here is Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder with 'Ebony and Ivory.' We can all live together in harmony.")))
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