Kayla, Girl Next Door
by Neal


Chapter 6 - Bessie


Mr. Nelson was alone in the backyard tending the peach tree when Kayla
first looked out the window that morning.  Since he hadn't
specifically told her to wait until afternoon the last time she'd
spoken to him she slipped on a yellow sun dress and and went outside
to see him.

"Hello, sir," she said as she stepped through the hedge.

"Good morning, Kayla," he greeted her.  "Did you speak with your
mother yesterday after you went home?"

"Yes, sir," replied the black teen.  "I didn't know you knew my mama
fo' so long."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Nelson.  "Many, many years.  She lived in one of
the first apartment buildings I bought on my own after I took over my
dad's holdings."

"You took over fo' yo' daddy, sir?"  Kayla asked.  "He was a landlord,
too?"

"That's right, girl," he said.  "Why don't we go sit down over here
and I'll tell you about it."

Mr. Nelson walked over to a lawn chair that was under the tree in the
shade and sat down.  Kayla followed after him and seeing no other
chair, sat on the grass at his feet.

"I was about as old as you are now, Kayla," he started.  "My dad owned
a triple decker.  A big house with three floors.  Each floor had an
apartment on it.  We lived on the first floor and he rented out the
two apartments on the upper floors."

 * * *

There was this sweet old colored lady that lived in the second floor
apartment, Mrs. Jenkins.  She also helped out around our house with
the cooking and cleaning.  She was a widow and lived alone.  Her
daughter came to visit now and then but not that often.  She was a big
lady that always made me think of the mammies in old movies about
plantations down south before the civil war.  Nice big titties.  Nice
big booty, too.

Anyways, she'd lived up there as long as I could remember.  She used
to bake alot.  She'd give me cookies or cake or pie when I was
younger.  As I got to be your age, though, I started noticing how
attractive she was to me in spite of her being in her mid fifties, at
least ten years older than my dad.

I started watching her as she'd set the table and serve us our dinner.
Especially when she'd bend over.  I'd always make sure I was standing
where I could get a good angle and look down her blouse.  Her breasts
were magnificent and I loved peeking at them.  At night I'd imagine
touching them and sucking on them.

One day I noticed her top couple of buttons had come undone and I
couldn't take my eyes off them.  The next day it was the same.
Naturally, I loved it.  I remember about a week later I was coming in
the house and my dad called me over to him.

"Mrs. Jenkins tells me she seen you checkin' her out," he said.

"I couldn't help it, dad," I protested.  "I swear it!  A couple of the
buttons on her blouse were unbuttoned and I couldn't look away!"

"Wait a minute, don't go gettin' all defensive," he stopped me.  "You
don't understand.  It's alright.  It's time you and me had a talk,
son.  Sit down."

I sat.  I was relieved that he wasn't going to chew me out.  But I was
confused because I didn't know what else he had in mind.

"Now understand that Mrs. Jenkins, Bessie, is a sweet colored lady,"
he started.  "But she knows the natural order of things.  She knows
that as a boy becomes a man he's gonna take an interest in things
female."

"Well, dad," I stammered, "she's kinda old for me to be thinking about
that way.  I mean she's always been so nice to me.  But lately I've
been... well... noticing her.  I just can't help it."

"That's ok," said my father.  "You're a chip off the old block, that's
for sure!  You've got an eye for the negro girls, I can tell.  I see
you lookin' so there's no point denyin' it.  Bessie's a fine picture
of a negress.  Don't matter how old she is, niggers age well.  I'm
sure you've noticed that."

I was a little embarrassed at finding out my dad had noticed how
colored girls got my attention.  But I was also intrigued at hearing
how he thought Mrs. Jenkins was attractive, too.  He was right, too.
I noticed that nigger girls looked good even when they were as old as
her.

"Yeah, I've noticed that too," I confessed.

"Course you have!" he exclaimed.  "It's natural for a boy your age.
Don't worry about it.  Enjoy it!  Which brings me to what I wanted to
say.  Bessie understands perfectly well about young white men and what
they like.  She understands her place as a nigger very well, too.
It's time you went upstairs and paid her a visit so she can explain it
to you.  She's expecting you, son."

I ventured out the front door and up the stairs to her apartment.  I
could feel the excitement inside me like an electric charge.
Mrs. Jenkins was waiting for me.  And she knew I thought about her
sexually.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was hoping that
something interesting would happen.

I knocked and she answered right away.  I was already taller than her
and I'll never forget looking down into her smiling face as she opened
the door.  Her black hair was medium length and didn't' quite reach
her shoulders although I always suspected it was a wig.  She had black
plastic rimmed glasses and always wore lipstick and a little eye
shadow.  That day she was wearing a lavender colored flower print
cotton dress.

"Why, hello, Mr. Nelson!" she greeted me.  "Please do come in!"

She was always so happy to see me.  She always made me feel good.  She
called me Mr. Nelson instead of my first name.  I was starting to
understand why.  And I liked it.  It was this sweet old colored lady's
way showing me respect.

"Hi," was all I could say.

I felt kind of nervous because I didn't know what to expect.  She
seemed as sweet and friendly as ever.

"Come on in!" she said, stepping back to let me by.  She indicated a
high backed over stuffed easy chair.  "Make yo'self comfortable,
sugar.  Kin I git you somethin' to drink?  I jus' made some lemonade
since I knew you was comin' up."

"I'd like that," I said, sitting down.

I looked around her apartment.  It was very neatly kept.  Old
comfortable furniture sitting on a big braided oval rug.  Wooden end
tables next to each chair, each with a lace doily on it.  Old pictures
on the wall.  Flowers in a vase.  Mrs. Jenkins paid alot of attention
to her surroundings.

"I hopes I din't embarrass you none tellin' yo' daddy 'bout you
peekin' at me that way," she started, almost apologetically, as she
returned with a tall glass of lemonade for me.  "But he done tol' me
to tell him when you showed the signs that you be ready fo' this."

"Uh, no," I replied.  "Not too much.  Still, I feel a little bad for
what I done even though my dad says it's ok."

"Listen to yo' daddy, sugar!" she told me.  "An' don't you feel bad
'bout what's natural for you.  Don't you know I noticed you peekin' a
week ago?  I even make sho' you'd get a good look."

"You did?" I said, surprised.

So, she *had* done it on purpose!  This sweet colored lady had left
her buttons undone so I could get a better look at her titties!  It
was sweet, but at the same time more than a little arousing.  I could
feel my dick twitching.

"Of course I did, sugar!" she exclaimed.  "You a fine young white man,
and I's jus' a nigga.  It be yo' natural right to see what you wants
to see."

I was having a hard time believing she felt this way.  I'd always knew
how much I'd like to have colored girls happily serving me and I'd
certainly imagined that Mrs. Jenkins was taking such special care of
me for that reason.  And now it was turning out to be true.

"You're a nice old lady!" I objected.

"You sweet to say so, sugar," she smiled.  "I do tries to be nice, but
that don't change what I is.  I knows what I is an' I ain't 'shamed of
it none.  I's jus' a nigga, though I do tries to be the bes' nigga I
kin fo' you an' yo' daddy.  That's the way things is an' the way they
should be."

"So you like bein' a... a..." I stammered.

"A nigga?" she laughed.  "'Course I do, sugar!  Servin' you an yo'
daddy be real satisfyin' fo' me.  An' I's real happy that I kin serve
you this way now."

"This way?" I said, a little confused.

"Yes, sugar," she said, her voice taking a slightly sultry tone.  "My
great grandma tol' us stories 'bout the old days.  She was born a
slave.  She said how back then plenty o' white boys learned 'bout sex
from they mammies.  She tol' us how sometimes a nigga mammy be
spreadin' her legs fo' a white boy when years before she been wet
nursin' him when he jus' a young 'un."

"Really?" I asked, incredulously.

I was starting to get the idea of what she meant now.  My dick was
definitely enjoying where this was going.

"Oh, yes!" she assured me.  "Happened all the time.  Jus' like I's
hopin' it gonna happen agin now."

"What do you mean, Mrs. Jenkins?" I asked even though I had a pretty
good notion of what she meant.

"I think you knows what I mean, sugar," she smiled.  "An' you ain't
gotta call me Mrs. Jenkins.  You kin call me Bessie.  Or girl.  Or
nigga.  You a white man an' it be yo' right to call me what you want.
To call me somethin' that shows me my place as a nigga."

"Ok, Bessie," I told her even though it felt a little strange calling
this older woman by her first name.

"I've had my eye on you fo' some time," she said.  "I knew yo' daddy
was waitin' to see if'n you took a interest in this ol' nigga lady.
So when you started showin' the signs, he was happy to hear about it,
but I be happy, too."

"I didn't realize...," I replied.

I had no idea she'd been thinking about me as long as I'd been
thinking about her.  Maybe even longer.

"It weren't my place to let on, sugar," she responded.  "But it don't
matter what I think no how.  All that matters is what you want.  And
if you want somethin' all you got to do is say so."

"Somethin' like what?" I asked.

I still couldn't believe this was really happening.  Suddenly I saw
this sweet old colored lady with new eyes.  I'd always thought she was
pretty and as I'd matured I'd thought she was attractive.  Lately I'd
fantasized about her but now I saw her as a sexual being.

"Well, I know you been peekin' down my blouse," she smiled bashfully.
"Maybe you want to see more.  You want to see my titties, sugar?  You
want me to get naked for you?"

"Yeah," I croaked.  My dick was hard as a rock.  "I want you to get
naked, Bessie."

"Yes, sir," she said and cast her eyes respectfully downwards.

Bessie stood and began to unbutton the top of her dress.  Button by
button, her brown flesh was gradually revealed.  My eyes were riveted
to her.  She let it drop and stepped out of it.  The colored lady was
there before me in her slip.  She lifted that up over her head and
dropped it on top of the lavender dress.

So there she was, just in her bra and panties.  She smiled at me as
she unclasped her bra and removed it.  At long last I saw her big
heavy breasts bared for me.  They were quite saggy and hung down her
chest.  I loved them!  I could feel my dick straining in my pants.
When she bent over to pull her panties down they swung back and forth.
I would have cum in my jeans if my cock hadn't been bent over in my
shorts.

The negress stood naked not six feet away from me.  She clasped her
hands behind her head and moved her feet apart.  I caught myself
staring at her open mouthed.  She smiled at me warmly.

"You like what you see, sugar?" she asked sweetly.  "Yo' daddy likes
niggas displayin' themselves this way.  I like doin' it, too.  Reminds
me of my place.  Reminds me that I's fo' the pleasure of white men.
White men like you, sir."

Bessie was magnificent.  Seeing all that negro female flesh in front
of me had my dick throbbing.

"You're beautiful, Bessie!" I told her.

"You want to touch me, sugar?" she asked.  "You can if you want.  It
be yo' right.  I's jus' a nigga.  I's here fo' yo' pleasure.  Whatever
you want me to do, you jus' tell me.  You ain't gotta ask or say
please or nothin'.  You ain't even gotta tell me.  You kin jus' take
what you want if'n it please you to do it."

"I want to," I said and reached my hand out towards her.  "Come closer
so I can touch you, girl."

I was really getting turned on at this point and totally getting into
being in control of her.  She stepped right in front of me and I began
to fondle her huge breasts and touch her soft nipples.  I could hear
her moan quietly.

"That feel good, sir," she gasped.  "You don't mind me talkin', do
you, sugar?  I jus' keep quiet if'n you want.  You jus' tell me."

"That's ok, Bessie," I assured her.  "I like hearin' you talk to me."

I began to become aware of a musky smell I hadn't noticed before.  I
think she saw my nostrils twitch.

"I hope you don't mind the smell, sir," she said, a little
embarrassed.  "I can't help that.  I's a nigga, but I's also a woman.
Havin' a fine sweet white man like you touchin' me gets me all excited
and my coochie jus' starts up on its own."

"No, I like it," I said hoarsely.

I don't remember ever being so turned on as I ran my hand down her
belly and between her legs.  Bessie parted her thighs to give me
access to her intimate regions.  She gasped as I touched her pussy.
It was soaked.  I'd fingered a white girl once after school behind the
gym while making out with her.  But I never felt anything like that
colored lady's coochie.  It was so soft and so wet!

Bessie actually started bucking her hips and humping my hand.  I
pressed it into her more firmly since she was straining to feel more
pressure on herself.  I could tell she liked what I was doing because
she got this happy dumb look on her face that I'd never seen before
and will never forget.

The negress kept it up for a few seconds and then stopped and looked
down at me, still with those half closed eyes and half open mouth.
She slowly stopped what she was doing.

"I's sorry to get so carried away, sir," she gasped.  "I hopes you
understands how long I wanted to feel yo' hands on me and forgives me
fo' not keepin' in my place wit' you."

"I like it, Bessie!" I stopped her.  "Don't apologize."

"Thank you, sir," she said, looking down at me, noticing the bulge in
my pants.  "I kin see you in some discomfort, sugar.  Kin I help?  Kin
I take yo' pants down fo' you?"

"Yeah," I replied, somewhat breathlessly.

Bessie leaned forward and unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans.  I
lifted myself off the chair so she could pull them down.  She kneeled
in front of me and looked me in the eye.

"Kin I touch yo' cock, sugar?" she asked sweetly.  "It would be a
honor if'n you'd let me touch it."

"Uh huh," was all I could get out.

The colored lady leaned forward on her knees and took my hard white
cock in one hand and began gently stroking my balls with the other.  I
could feel her soft breasts on my legs.  She kept looking at me and
smiling the whole time.

"You like that, sugar?" she asked huskily.  "Yo' mammy makin' you feel
good?"

"Yeah..." I murmured, totally lost in the pleasure she was giving me.

"I be honored if'n you let me take it in my mouth, sir," she said
humbly.  "Please, sir, let me suck you.  I need yo' cock, sir."

I couldn't believe she was begging me to suck my cock.  How could I
refuse?

"Please do," I told her.

Bessie leaned closer and held my cock to her lips.  She had just
started to slip it into her mouth when I started cumming.  I let a
hard jet of cum loose into her mouth which startled her. She moved her
head back and I spurted two or three more strong shots of semen right
into her face.  My sperm was in her hair and dripping on her cheek.  I
even got some in her eye.  I was mortified.  Sensing my embarrassment
she looked at me and smiled, one eye closed with the thick liquid on
her eyelash.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" she exclaimed.  "Thank you fo' cummin' in this
nigga's face.  You payin' me quite a compliment by shootin' off so
fast and honorin' me with a face full o' yo' cum.  Thank you, sugar."

The colored lady had quickly taken all the embarrassment out of my
premature ejaculation and made me feel good about it.  I can't
describe how I felt at that moment, but it was warm and good.  She
knew just how to please me.  It was second nature to her.

The negress then licked the semen off my cock and off my thighs where
it landed.  Then she went back to her kneeling position.

"Uh, I got some on your face, Bessie," I said sheepishly.

"I knows it, sir," she informed me.  "I ain't gon' wipe it off in yo'
presence 'cause that ain't respectful.  I's proud to wear yo' cum on
my face, sugar.  I truly is."

I wasn't quite sure what to do next so I stood and pulled up my jeans.
Bessie remained on her knees, my cum dripping off her face.  She
looked up at me while I zipped up my fly and buckled my belt..

"You kin come back up here anytime you want, sugar," she said.
"Anytime at all.  Anything you want this nigga to do fo' you, you tell
me and I do it.  Anything you want to do, you jus' do it.  I's yo'
nigga an' it's yo' right.  An' I mean anytime.  You kin come up here
in th' middle o' the night if'n you want.  No need to knock.  Jus'
come on in.  Don't matter none.  Tell me what you want o' you kin jus'
take it.  I's jus' a nigga.  Yo' nigga."

I left her there like that and went back downstairs.  Dad was waiting
for me in the living room.  He put down the newspaper and looked up at
me and winked.

"So, son, did Bessie explain everything?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah." I replied.  "She's pretty cool alright."

"Cool!" he exclaimed.  "Son, that girl is natural nigger.  You don't
run into those every day.  She's more than cool.  Some day I'll tell
you a story about me and her when I was your age.  But I got the
notion you already know how that story goes."

"Now I can't get enough of nigger girls, old or young, fat or skinny,
don't matter to me!" my father continued.  "If they're natural niggers
like Bessie I love 'em.  Now I got a couple of houses like this I rent
out.  No surprise all the tenants are nigger girls!  One of these days
you can come along when I collect the rents.  They don't all pay with
mere money."

 * * *

"So there you have it," said Mr. Nelson, winding the story down.  "My
dad was a landlord, too.  It suited him and it suits me.  I've met all
kinds of nigger girls over the years that way, though none quite as
special as Bessie.  I still think of her often.  You're a natural
nigger, too.  Just like her."

Kayla smiled happily at the compliment.  She'd been totally absorbed
in the white man's story and only now was getting to be aware of how
wet her pussy had become while listening to it.  The black teen had
unconsciously been squeezing her thighs together, putting pressure on
her clit, through most of the tale.  Thoughts of young Mr. Nelson and
the sweet old colored lady had fired her imagination.

"She sounds very sweet," Kayla said.  "Did you ever go back to her
again, Massa?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Mr. Nelson exclaimed.  "She was my first nigger.
I couldn't get enough of her.  I went back up to see her that same
night."

 * * *

I couldn't sleep at all when I went to bed.  All I could think of was
that magnificent negress upstairs telling me she was my nigger and how
I could come by whenever I wanted and do anything I wanted with her.
Well, I knew what I wanted.

About three o'clock in the morning I got out of bed and slipped my
robe over myself.  I slept naked like I do now and didn't want to go
upstairs like that.  I was excited and maybe a little ashamed that I
was going to go up there and wake that sweet colored lady up and fuck
her.  I'd never actually fucked a girl before and was eager to find
out what it was like.

I picked the master key off the hook in the kitchen and made my way
out into the common stairway and went up to Bessie's apartment door.
I let myself in.  I felt a little uncomfortable just going in without
knocking or anything, but she had made it clear that that's what she
wanted and expected.

The street light outside gave me enough light to walk without tripping
over anything.  As I approached Bessie's bedroom, a light came on
inside it.

"That you, Massa?" she called out.

I stepped into the doorway and saw Bessie there sitting up in her bed.
She was reached for her glasses on the bedside table and looked
towards me as she put them on.  She wore a flannel night gown.  The
colored lady wasn't wearing her wig and I could see her hair was
extremely short, though long enough for me to see it was nappy and
liberally sprinkled with gray.

"It's you, Mr. Nelson!" she said, smiling broadly and blinking in the
light.  "I weren't sho' you was gon' come up here.  I's glad you did.
If I'd known I'd a been naked fo' you."

"That's ok, Bessie," I told her, still feeling pretty nervous and not
as bold as when I'd come up the stairs.

"You want some poontang, sugar?" she asked, her smile had changed from
friendly to sultry.  "Is that why you come up here?"

"Yeah," I replied starting to feel more embarrassed.

"You want me naked, sir?" she wanted to know.  "Or you want me to jus'
pull up my nightshirt so you kin use me quick?"

"I want you naked, girl," I said, feeling emboldened by the way she
said 'use me'.

"Yes, sir," she said in a soft submissive voice.

Bessie shifted around and took her glasses off, setting them back on
her night stand.  She pulled her nightshirt up and over her head,
discarding it on the floor.

"I's all yours, sir," she told me.  "I's ready fo' use."

The colored lady threw off the covers and lay back down, opening her
legs for me.  The sight had my dick standing straight out through the
gap in my robe.  I could see she was looking at it, her eyes bright.
I let the robe drop and climbed into bed with her.  The aroma of her
pussy was heavy in the air.  I wanted her bad.  I got between her legs
and tried to slip my cock into her but couldn't quite find the
entrance.

"Is I yo' first, sugar?" she whispered.  "Don't be embarrassed.  Yo'
mammy show you where to put it.  Kin I put yo' dick in my hole fo'
you, sugar?"

"Yeah, Bessie," I whispered back.  "You're my first.  Put me inside
you, girl,"

"Yes, sir," she said softly.  "You honor this ol' nigga lady, sugar.
Thank you so much."

I felt her hand around my erection and she guided me to the entrance
to her vagina.  She was wet and it slid in easily.  Oh, it was like
heaven!  So soft and warm.  And she was so sweet.  I fucked her slowly
at first and gradually picked up the pace.  She bucked her hips to
meet my thrusts.  It felt so good!  Like nothing I'd ever experienced
before.  I couldn't hold it.  I could feel my dick tensing up and I
shoved it into her pussy as far as I could.

"Oh!  Ah!  Fuck!"  I cried out as I came hard into her black cunt.
"Ohhh...  Ahhh... Fuck."

"Tha's right, Massa," she cooed.  "Cum in yo' mammy's coochie.  It be
yours.  Use yo' nigga.  Tha's right.  Thank you, Massa.  I's so
grateful fo' yo' cum.  So grateful, sir."

I hadn't lasted but a minute or two, but she made me feel like a man
anyways.  It was incredible.  She was incredible.

After I lay there on top of her for several minutes, just savoring the
experience, I got up and put my robe back on.  I looked back at her on
the bed, legs open, pussy creamy, still smiling at me.

"Thank you fo' usin' me, sir," she told me sincerely.  "You do this
nigga a great honor by allowin' her to be yo' first.  I ain't never
gonna forget it.

"You're welcome, Bessie," I replied.  "It was my pleasure, believe me.

"I hopes you come back an' see me again, sugar," she said.  "Anytime
you want, day o' night.  You jus' come an' tell me what you want an'
it's yours.  'cause I's yours.  Yo' nigga mammy.  My legs always be
open fo' you.  You jus' gotta come an' get it."

"I will, girl," I answered.  "Count on it."

I turned and left her there.  Her bedroom light went out as I got to
the door.  I went back down to my apartment and went to bed.  I slept
really soundly after that.

 * * *

"That was the first time I enjoyed Bessie's charms," said Mr. Nelson.
"I enjoyed them many times afterwards over the years that followed.
And she wasn't the only tenant of my father's that I came to know that
way.  I'll have to tell you about some of the others sometime."

"That's a great story, sir," Kayla said.  "Thank you fo' sharin' it
wit' me.  I's glad yo' first time was good as mine."

"I'm glad you liked it, girl," replied the white man, rising.  "I've
got to go do some work now, so you'll have to run along home.  You can
come back and see me later."

Kayla got up off the grass and went through the hedge, looking back to
see Mr. Nelson disappearing into his house.  The black teenager
returned home and went up to her room.  Thoughts of Mr. Nelson and
Bessie filled her head as her hand found its way between her legs.



  
Kayla-06