“Have a good day, Caleb! I’ll see you this evening.”
“You have a good day also, ma’ dear!”
He watched the seductive sway of Amanda’s hips as she got in line to enter the plant. He tooted the horn and waved as he pulled back onto the road and headed into town.
They didn’t have a telephone at home else he would have called Sharonda and told her what happened. That would have to wait until this evening.
Chapter 02
Caleb Carruthers was apprehensive as he stepped from his beat-up old truck in front of Goldstein’s General Store. It sat midway down Main Street across from the B&O railroad tracks.
In the weeks since her son was drafted and her husband started working long hours at the defense plant, Ella Goldstein behaved oddly toward him. She touched him a lot and asked him how his marriage was going. She wanted to know what he did for fun.
She assured him that, unlike other White people, she liked Black people. These conversations were usually accompanied by her touching his arms or shoulder. Once, she laid her hand on his chest, marveling at his musculature.
Caleb knew Ellen Goldstein was coming on to him, which scared him to death. The nightriders were strong in Delta County, enforcing the ad hoc segregation and anti-miscegenation dictums through intimidation and lynchings.
Spurning Ellen Goldstein’s advances were equally as dangerous as succumbing to her ham-fisted advances. Either way, she could holler rape when and if she wanted to. He could become the ‘Strange Fruit’ the old song spoke of…lynched and hanging from a tree!
He and Shar discussed it. His young wife understood his dilemma. With an understanding that belied her years, she assured him that she would appreciate and stand by him whatever he had to do.
While her support was comforting, he was loath to fuck Mrs. Goldstein. She had the original five-by-five body, figuratively just as wide as she was tall. Her faint mustache and straggles of hair on her chin didn’t add to her looks. He suspected she was hirsute over most of her body.
“Morning, Miz Goldstein!”
Ellen Goldstein turned and smiled at her clerk and delivery boy. Caleb began working for her and her husband in high school. Initially, he worked part-time after school and on weekends.
Her Calvin put him on full-time when he graduated high school. He pointed out that he was a bright, intelligent kid who would be invaluable to her as she ran the business by herself. Lately, she noticed he was no longer the gangly uncoordinated youth. She was ashamed of herself for how she was affected by his tall, muscular body.
At 45 and 50, she and her husband’s sex life had declined precipitously. She grew accustomed to the infrequent sex and the fact that she rarely was sated by what they did. In 1940s America, she accepted that as her lot in life. The mores of the time suggested that a woman’s place was to please her husband. She accepted that.
However, the war was changing America and Ellen Goldstein. People were filling roles and doing jobs that were unthinkable before the war. Pictures of Rosy the Riveter were displayed everywhere. She represented a new assertive role for women.
For Ellen, it meant she dealt one-on-one with men for the first time in her life. Her new freedom caused her to look at Caleb differently. She caught herself staring at the bulge in his faded blue jeans. His tee shirt emphasized his broad chest and exposed his thick hard arms.
“Good morning, Caleb! It’s Monday, so we’ll be busy all day. When we close this evening, I want you to deliver the rest of the shingles to your church. Tell Pastor Favreau these will probably be the last ’til after the war, especially with oil rationing.”
“Yes ‘um, Miss Goldstein!”
Covertly, Caleb watched Ellen Goldstein’s massive rump jiggle as she waddled across the store. Like other women, she no longer wore girdles to conserve rubber for the war effort. His mother-in-law used the same excuse.
He did not understand why they didn’t wear the girdles they had already. Surely Mr. Roosevelt wouldn’t have a drive to collect all the old girdles for their rubber. He suspected it was an excuse not to wear girdles, but he wasn’t sure. It was one of those mysteries about women that he hoped to solve as he got older.
“Caleb, I have some things in the storeroom I want you to set out before we open,” Ellen Goldstein said, beckoning for him to follow her.
She had made up her mind to fuck Caleb. She hoped she wouldn’t lose her nerve.
“Can it wait until after we open, Miz Goldstein? It’s close to opening time.”
Caleb’s belly was in knots. He knew what was coming.
Caleb walked slowly into the storeroom, following Ellen down the aisles of can goods, seed, and burlap bags of animal feed. Her husband used to do the accounts in the back on an old desk.
Ellen sat on the desk, letting her dress ride up.
“Come closer, Caleb.”
“Miz Goldstein, I’m not sure…!”
“You ever fuck a White woman, Caleb?”
Some white women who traded at her store sometimes whispered about sex with Black men. They whispered about clandestine sex with them in their yards and barns. Mrs. Riley, the high sheriff’s wife, claimed she fucked their handyman in her marriage bed every week. She said her husband liked to watch her do it.
Ella Goldstein was sure some women, especially Susan Riley, were exaggerating, if not outright lying. She couldn’t imagine any man liking to watch another man fuck his wife, especially a black man.
“No, ma’am.”
Despite himself, Caleb’s cock was getting hard. He was at that age where his cock was perpetually hard. Besides, eating Amanda’s pussy in his truck left him hard and needy.
Ellen pulled her dress up around her waist and lay back on the desk.
“We don’t have much time.”
Caleb gulped, looking at the forest of greying pubic hair covering Ellen Goldstein’s pussy and belly. It was wet and matted around her pussy.
“Miz Goldstein, I…!”
“Hurry, boy! Do as I say!”
Her voice was an odd mixture of lust and the preemptory way white people addressed black people in that era. She expected compliance, whether stocking the shelves, sweeping the floor, or fucking her.
Caleb responded as he knew he had to, dropping his pants and stepping between her legs. He positioned his cock at her entrance and rammed it in.
“Oh Fuck,” Ellen gasped as Caleb’s cock filled her as she had never been filled before.
She felt pain from penetration for the first time since she was a virgin on her wedding night. Caleb was huge!
Caleb pulled her legs over his shoulders and repeatedly pumped into Ellen Goldstein’s pussy. She was initially moist but began to flow like the old river at flood stage as he fucked her. Unlike his wife, who fucked him back, her hips pumping up to meet his thrusts, Ella Goldstein lay there moaning.
It didn’t matter. After his session with his mother-in-law in his truck, he just needed to get off.
Caleb was always fascinated by Ellen Goldstein’s big jugs. Now was his chance to see them. He unbuttoned her dress, pushed it off her shoulders, and pushed her bra over her big titties.
“These be nice!”
They were blue-vined and pasty white with huge dark nipples. He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking hard on it.
Ella was getting more dick than she expected. With her husband, it was usually over in a few minutes, and he rolled off her and went to sleep. He never spread her legs like a wishbone and pumped into her like a piledriver.
She felt something besides being wet for the first time in her life. Sensations were rocketing through her body, like when she accidentally touched the naked electric wire in the shed where the bags of seeds were stored.
“Hurry, boy,” she gasped, wheezing from the unaccustomed exertion. “We have to open the store soon.”
“We gonna take as long as it takes, Miz Goldstein. You wanted to fuck. Now we fuck until I got enough.”
A nascent fear and an unaccustomed lust fought for prominence in her mind. Susan Riley also said that black men tended to dominate white women. Ella feared she had unleashed a monster.
Caleb pushed her dress off, leaving her naked, lying on her husband’s desk. Her pussy farted as Caleb’s massive tool filled her, forcing the air out. Her belly quivered, and her old pussy spasmed as the young black boy fucked her hard.
“I feel so full,” Ellen gasped, trying to match her young lover’s thrusts by pumping her fat hips up.
Caleb’s back undulated as he drove his tool deep enough in her that his balls slapped against her ass. He thought about Shar and how they had learned so much from each other. He thought of his mother-in-law and how she seemed open to anything.
He looked down at the store owner naked and sweating, her mouth open with drool running down her cheeks. He had an epiphany, realizing that white pussy was no different from any other.
Pussy was pussy; you stick your dick in and get off. It was what came before and after that matter.
For the first time in years, Ellen Goldstein felt the beginnings of an orgasm. She thrashed about on the desk as though she were having a seizure. She came hard, her pussy convulsing and the rolls of fat that were her belly quivering. Her mouth opened in a silent scream spewing spittle as she came.
“You cumming, ain’t cha? I can feel your pussy spasming. Say I love your nigga dick in me! Say it!”
Caleb knew he was in charge. He might be lynched, but he would first enjoy this fat white pussy!
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