Betty paused and seemed to shrink a little. She regarded her friend almost shyly. "What makes you think something's wrong?"Cindy paused a few seconds. "What is it, Betty?" she asked tenderly."Damn, girl, you can see right through me, can't you?" Betty fidgeted and wrung her hands together."Whatever it is, it's probably all in your mind," Cindy said calmly. "Nothing is ever as bad as you think it is." It's pretty bad." Betty took a deep breath. "She's black."Cindy couldn't help it. She barked a loud, single laugh before she could stop herself. "You mean she's African American?" She smiled askance at Betty. "Are you out of your mind? This is the Twenty-first Century! This is OUR generation! Nobody gives a shit about race anymore!" Louisville is in the South, honeychild," Betty said bitterly. "Or it THINKS it is, anyway. And oh yes, it does matter. You should have seen the girls I was with! You should have seen the girls SHE was with! They all sat there scowling at us. One of the gals I. I pressed my cheek gently against hers, my eyes again capturing hers in the mirror. She looked vulnerable, uncertain and a little dizzy with wine.She watched me as my eyes moved to her full breasts and she blushed with pride. The black lace bra giving just a hint of the darker shade of her nipples. The flesh pressed together between those two points into a pale cleavage.My hands slid smoothly down her shoulders; almost to her elbows. I felt her shiver again; goose bumps rising upon her flesh, as my hands moved in and up. A gasp escaped her as I grasped both breasts, squeezing them roughly until that delicious valley was an obscene canyon.Again I kissed her neck, her head turning away to arch it toward me, “Oh ... Jason ... No...”When I looked up at her face I saw that she had her eyes tightly closed, her mouth open as her chest rose and fell within my arms. In my hands I felt the nipples rise, poking me through the fabric of her undergarment.The lips were moving but nothing came out.
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