White Men Love Black Women: BWWM Erotic Romances by Barb Dar by Barb Dar

Author:Barb Dar [Dar, Barb]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: United States, Erotica, Women's Fiction, African American, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B0113VADZQ
Published: 2015-07-06T04:00:00+00:00

A True And Lasting Love: An Interracial Romance By Barb Dar

Damien had cat’s eyes, and long jet black hair that tussled in the wind as he ran along the grass strewn plains, his sinewy chest flexed and encased in a sweat that glistened in the noon day sun.

Poppa had no idea I was sweet on him, and he used to call him white Injun. I used to call him the love of my life.

It was magical in those days. I was only sixteen when I first met him, but in my mind I would imagine my sensual but curious black fingertips running aimlessly along his sweetly sculpted cheekbones, until they rubbed gently off his thick cherry sweet lips and down along his ruggedly handsome jawline. And I often wondered what it might be like to kiss that cherry red mouth.

He was definitely more spiritual than emotional, measuring the things he did as though they would have grave and lasting effects on his destiny.

He called me his precious brown flower, and used to scour the country side each morning to bring me a fresh bouquet of vibrant lilacs, golden sunflowers, and startling red carnations that were the same color as the wild scarlet tulips that ran like a thin swath of blood across the valley floor.

Damien used to say that the clouds stood like heaps of floating marshmallows, their greyish peaks drifting ever upward until they dissipated into the blue ocean of sky like shadowy turrets that had lost their way.

His parents had died when he was only a baby, the victims of a drunk driver who never did apologize for leaving him an orphan. Children of judges and mayors rarely paid for their crimes in those days, and so it behooved us more common folk like Damien to suck it up and manufacture forgiveness for those too powerful to face justice. A sheriff’s drunken son was the culprit, with five times the legal alcohol limit in his bloodstream. But to hear the sheriff tell it, Damien’s damn parents had gotten in the way of a speeding car, and had made a mess of his fancy grill work, breaking off an irreplaceable hood ornament as their bones shattered into fragments like the great humpty dumpty, who couldn’t be put together again no matter how hard they’d tried.

I suppose that’s part of the reason Damien chose to live on an Indian Reservation. Although he himself was white, he was disillusioned with ‘white man politics’ and ‘white man justice,’ so to an extent, I suppose that becoming the boyfriend of a non-Indian black girl like me, was more an exercise in defiance than attraction. At least that’s the way it started out. But as time went by, Damien’s love for me grew, until he used to say that his heart could never be big enough to contain all the affection he felt toward me.

It never ceased to amaze me the way he could simply live off the land, spear fishing to the point

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