Black Revenge

So I've had this idea for awhile about a story of a strong buck who gets separated from his mother by callous slaveowners and goes to work on a plantation. 200 years later the slaveowner's descendants are in the year 2019 and the white ******** is really into hip-hop and twerking. She meets a muscular black thug at a rap concert who happens to be the descendant of the slaves in her forefather's plantation. The thug steals the ********, and her mother, and blacks the entire ****** while exacting untold pain and revenge on the white man. So here is the start and let me know if I should continue this.

* * *
THE YEAR IS 1808

Jawunta screamed.
She writhed and thrashed in the chains around her wrists and ankles when she saw the white overlord point at her fully-grown son, M'bogro.

"Aye, that one!" The white overlord and slaveowner, Alexander Stephens, exclaimed. "That's exactly the kind of buck I need to pull the plow!" M'bogro was quite the specimen, naturally cut with a perfect, broad-shouldered physique, legs like tree trunks, and dreadlocks that hung past his shoulders.

"NOOOO!" Jawunta screamed. "MAH BABYYYYYYYY!"

"Shut the hell up, you loud fucking, filthy she-boon!" Replied Lucas Stephens, the 27 year old son of Alexander. He whacked Jawunta across the face with a paddle.

It happened so fast, and a group of white men hauled her son away, she had no chance to say goodbye, couldn't even see his face for a moment, and just like that, he was gone.

The chasm in Jawunta's heart widened and threatened to tear her in half as she writhed in the throes of trauma and despair. She wanted nothing more than to kill herself.


* * *

That evening, Catherine Stephens and her ********* stood on the porch, all dressed in modest Victorian dresses.
In their Louisiana plantation, the slaves would gather in a ring and start their voodoo rituals. They would start whooping and hollering. The women would bend over and gyrate their behinds into the men in a primitive, lascivious display.
"Mama, why do they do that? They must smell so bad!" Asked Juliet, the pale-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed youngest ********.
"Because they are niggers, my ********. They are not like us; they're more like monkeys. They aren't really human."
Victoria, Juliet's older sister, chimed in:
"They mate like animals, Juliet. They spread their sickness and filth everywhere, and then they die of disease."
Juliet absorbed the information like a sponge and believed it, viewing the animalistic dancing monkey-girls bending over in front of the big, gorilla-like
monkey-boys. She eyed the monkey-boy's big, bulgy bicep. He was the newest slave, M'bogro, although Juliet never learned of this or his name as he was
totally irrelevant.
Lucas, their older brother, suddenly rode out of the barn on his horse into the pack of slaves and cracked his whip everywhere, dispersing them.
"Settle down! Back to your huts! Now! Go to sleep! Enough of this debauchery!"

Not seeing much interest but I'ma forge ahead anyways...

M'Bogro had befriended Beyonce, one of the slaves on the Stephens Plantation. She was a plump African female who sang with a great voice and formed a platonic relationship with M'Bogro. He enjoyed reaching a higher spiritual plane with her during the Voodoo rituals. The spiritual frenzy they went into during their ring shouts, which were inevitably broken up by the White Man, gave the two slaves the only respite they could find from their cursed existence.

One day, M'Bogro and Beyonce were picking cotton together when Lucas Stephens rode up on his stallion, and seeing that Beyonce had fallen short of the quota and not picked enough cotton, decided to punish her by hanging the next day, to make an example to the rest of the slaves of what happened if they didn't work hard enough. Her children who had been born on the plantation were traumatized seeing their mother lynched in broad daylight.

* * *

Decades later, M'Bogro was an old man but after the Civil War he was stunned to learn that he was free and could own land. In full objection of his white neighbors, M'Bogro, who was still very sexually virile at such an old age, impregnated Beyonce's surviving ********, Lakeisha, and the two formed one of the first African-owned farms in Louisiana. Needless to say, it was eventually sacked and burned by the KKK (for the "protection of White Womanhood") but M'bogro had many offspring and so, regardless of the untold persecution that would befall them in the coming decades, M'Bogro's strong Black lineage was intact, always surviving and pushing forward through the coming generations by the remarkable physical strength and sexual prowess carried in M'Bogro's pure, primal, African DNA.

* * *

THE YEAR IS 2019

"No... you have to bend over like this, and then, pop ya pussy..."

Annelise was a tanned white girl with some Latina heritage, dark eyes, a round booty and great body. She had a natural dancer's talent and could easily move her body with no self-consciousness. Her skin was so tanned it was almost brown yet her features were certainly European.

Meanwhile, Julie Stephens, a rich girl with incredibly pale skin, arrow-straight platinum blonde hair, small tits and incredibly narrow waste -- combined uncannily with wide hips and an incredible, round, perky ass, did her best to gyrate her body to the newest raunchy rap hit by Lil Wayne. If she could twerk as well as Annelise she would far outshine her friend's attractiveness, due to the fact that Julie was one of the most sought-after girls in their high school, owing in no small part to her precious angelic face, perfectly preserved through millennia of pure Nordic, northern European heritage.

However, Julie was a shy one, and any expression of her sexuality was suppressed by a very conservative upbringing. She was relieved to hang out with Annelise this late Friday afternoon where she could get to practice dancing ahead of the upcoming homecoming dance.

It sounds good so far. Good job. I think a lot of people lurk and don't post, don't be discouraged.

John Westsmith packed weed into his bowl and brought a lighter to the fresh crystallized green. Then he inhaled.
After waiting several days for Julie to text him back, he had caved and texted her again, in spite of the online articles he had read saying that texting too much can scare girls away, he simply couldn't help it. He had tried to be as suave as possible. Going to theater tonight, you riding along wit my homies? Still no reply. After his friends flaked and there was no movie night, he finally got a text but it wasn't from Julie. It was his dealer! After forking over $50 for 2 grams, at least he was able to score some weed in the alley behind high school. He was in for quite a fun Friday night.
Now he was isolated in his mom and ***'s giant mansion entertainment room. Some deep dish Pizza from Chicago Delights, the fanciest and most expensive pizzeria in town, was on the way and he was about to fire up Borderlands 3 on his gigantic home theater movie screen. He reclined on the couch, and took another hit from the bowl. Thoughts of Julie came creeping back in, and John resolved that he could muster up the courage to take her to the homecoming dance. She wouldn't be able to resist him and his ***'s Ferrari which he was allowed to drive. What girl wouldn't want to ride in a Ferrari?
John knew that he simply had to be persistent but he would definitely win the hand of Julie. He made an oath to himself that he could do this, as he took another hit of weed, and Julie's beautiful, angelic face faded away in his mind as he became immersed in the virtual videogame RPG world, thrilled at his skill and careful aim with the Xbox controller. Clearly, he was quite the alpha male.
After 5 hours of playing Borderlands 3 John was sleepy, but he couldn't help himself. He opened the internet browser, and started fapping to porn...

* * *

"YOU BETTA WORK!!!"

Was the last line Tyrone heard as he grudgingly headed out the door into the cold at 6am to his construction job. His mama had told the 19-year old they barely had enough to make the rent, and yes, he had to work on a Saturday. At least he had one thing to look forward to, two weeks from now. Him and his brothas were planning to invade the suburban high school homecoming dance. It would be a risky idea to a standard young male, but to fearless Tyrone, who'd been through shit, it would be just another night's amusement.

I really like this idea and can't wait to see the finished product.

Around the same time Tyrone finally finished his overtime shift, his worker's gloves covered with concrete and his muscles aching, he got in his Oldsmobile Cutlass and turned the key in the ignition to head home for the day. Several blocks down from the half-finished strip-mall-under-construction where he had worked, behind a wide hedgerow and a tall gated community wall, Julie the high school senior, two weeks away from 18th birthday, arrived at the Stephens mansion in her red Corvette. She grabbed the tote bags full of clothes and merchandise from the backseat, and ran to her room. She tore down the Little Mermaid poster that had been on her wall for years. She then excitedly unrolled the new poster she had picked up at the mall with Annelise this weekend. It was a picture of a shirtless DMX wearing a gold chain, with some explicit language written below. Her mother passed through the hall and noticed the new image of a black man's naked, tattooed torso.
"Julie! Why would you post pictures up of these gangsters! You're a good girl, you're not a criminal! Take it down, now!"
Her mother, Kelsie Marie Stephens, who worked as a manager at an investment bank, was quite the stunner. The 39-year old looked like an older version of her ********, though not that much older, due to her strict yoga and pilates regimen, which kept her stomach flat, her buttocks firm and her posture straight. Her breasts were also substantially bigger after giving birth to two children. Even in her professional attire she looked drop-dead gorgeous to any male who had viewed her that day when she walked from her Maserati to the office doors, and then back down the same stretch of pavement to her car at the end of the day, her high heels clicking loudly and sharply on the sidewalk and her hourglass figure turning heads.
Julie, who was far more brash and courageous speaking to her nucleic ****** members than she was outside of the house, yelled:
"It's my room! I do what I want with my walls!" She angrily slammed the door in her mother's face, locked the door, and then put Lil Wayne on her sound system. She looked at her full length mirror and started practicing her twerking movies, making small adjustments and trying to move more tightly to the beat of the song. She would get it right, she promised herself.
Her older brother Lucas, named after one of his forefathers, heard the pounding bass from her room as he passed down the hallway. Lucas was into alt-right trends and loved to say politically incorrect things even in this day and age, just to piss people off.
"Is she listening to that jungle jigaboo music again? That stupid negrobabble?" He felt perfectly safe saying these words at home where the only person that heard him was his mom.
His mom glared at him. "Lucas! Don't you dare use such language in this house! Now go set the table for dinner!"
Lucas, who had taken a year off after graduating high school, then another year, was living at home and underemployed. He loved visiting places like Hooters where he hit on the waitresses (without ever managing to get a date with one) and smoking weed and drinking vodka every opportunity he could find. He had more than enough money to afford every luxury and life was good for the 20-year old. Julie wasn't exactly impressed and had promised herself she would study hard and go the best college she could get into immediately after high school, so that she won't end up like her lazy brother. She hoped to earn a business degree and be the CEO of her own fashion brand one day.

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER

Julie's cheeks flushed red. She was like a deer in headlights.
The dorky kid from her science class, John, stood in front of her holding a ridiculously oversized bouquet of flowers. It looked like he had worked really, really hard on looking good that day, wearing immaculate designer jeans, a white and blue polo shirt (which Julie secretly hated, she thought it looked so dorky) and his hair slicked back with an excessive amount of gel.
"Um... I suppose... I mean..."
He held a giant, expensive banner that had been customized and produced by a professional graphic designer. It was complete with perfect lettering and graphics. It read: "JULIE, HOMECOMING?"
"...okay." She finished, deciding in her head that just because she would allow John to take her to homecoming, didn't mean she was going to be his girlfriend. Even though she wished another guy had asked her, not wanting to hurt John's feelings, timid Julie couldn't muster the strength to say no.
She instantly wished she could change her mind, but John's ear-to-ear grin signaled that it was too late.
He leaned forward slightly, trying to initiate a hug, but when nothing happened as Julie stood there frozen, he turned to his locker sheepishly. Julie then realized she didn't even take the flowers. She obligingly took the bouquet from his hands. Well, at least the flowers were pretty, she decided and admired the radiant colors.
"Well... see ya in science!" John managed to stammer, took his textbooks and vacated the hall quickly. Inside he was celebrating. She said yes! She said yes!!! He couldn't wait to boast to his friends at lunch that day that he was taking Julie Stephens to the homecoming dance.

Lucas arrived at the gun shop.
One thing he had always wanted was a gun. It was his Second Amendment right to own a weapon, and it was the one thing that he was missing. His mother could never know about it, but he decided that he needed some self-defense. The town where they lived was one of the richest in the state of Louisiana, however, as is common in many places, right next door on the other side of the freeway was a ghetto mostly populated by Blacks and Hispanics. Sometimes elements from the ghetto would make their way into suburbia. Whenever Lucas was walking down the sidewalk alone, and would see a group of Blacks across the street, sagging and wearing sports jerseys and do-rags, he wished that he was armed, just in case. Now he wouldn't be scared anymore. After passing the background check, he paid for the pistol, writing a check for $8,000 which was a fraction of his massive bank account funded entirely by his parents. He hid it in the glove compartment of his Lamborghini: his brand new Titanium Gold Desert Eagle. This cemented Lucas Stephens as the ultimate badass. He couldn't wait to show it to his friends and try it out at the shooting range, although he had never been there before and had never shot a gun before.

* * *

Jaqueefa rolled over, as the springs below the old mattress creaked. The sheets had come completely off one side of the bed. Jaqueefa was exhausted. Tyrone groaned and started rolling a blunt. Then he said:
"Aight, now go buy me a steak burrito, bitch."
Jaqueefa was flooded with dysphoria after the intense pleasure she had just received from a good fucking.
"I ain't yo bitch! Don't be callin' me yo bitch!" After all, even in 2019 life was still difficult for the average African-American female, and Jaqueefa, hardened and embittered, was not in the habit of taking shit from anyone, including the young man she met last night at the bar, who had gotten her drunk and taken her home for what now was obviously a one-night stand.
"Besides, I ain't got no money to buy you a burrito, how about you get off yo ass and take me out to lunch, but you sho won't cause you're an no good lazy asshole, I shoulda known better than to go home wit your ass, all yous care bout is yo self, like any other two bit lazy ass nigga..." she went on ranting and raving. The neighbors, who were Vietnamese immigrants, shuddered in annoyance as her loud, lilting voice could be heard through the thin walls of the low-cost apartment complex where Tyrone lived.
Tyrone sighed. The girl had ass, but he wasn't too fond of her face, and now he found out, neither was he fond of her mouth. He made a silent promise to himself not to settle for the easy bitches every time. Tyrone found himself wishing for a better lay.
"Whatever. Go the fuck home, then. Get the fuck out! Now git!" He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume of the rap videos on the old outdated TV across from him, in an attempt to drown out Jaqueefa's bitching. Jaqueefa, holding back tears, gathered up her clothes, purse and belongings and hustled out the door, her phat ass jiggling side to side in her booty shorts as she left.

"Excuse me young lady!" Kelsie-Marie Stephens stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips.
Julie had grabbed a couple waffles from the toaster and tried to walk the ten feet through the foyer to the front door without anyone noticing. Alas, she was caught.
"You are not going to school wearing that." Said the white mother to her white ********. It seemed like Julie was changing overnight as her lower body filled out, the fertile expression of a very perky and round butt that girls often grow when they're 17 years old, and Annelise had convinced her that she needed to show that off in the brand new designer daisy dukes she was wearing.
"Doesn't that violate the school dress code?? Cover up, right away!" Julie tried to resist, but her mom persisted.
"As long as you live in this house, you adhere to my rules! You're not going out the door dressed like that!"
Julie relented, walked to her room, and pulled a pair of long jeans over the ridiculously tight and small daisy dukes.

* * *

During U.S. history class at midmorning, Julie listened in fascination as the modern-day progressive curriculum eschewed idolizing white colonists in favor of describing the heroic African slaves who fought for their freedom. Julie wondered about her own ****** history and of how privildged she was due to her heritage. She also pondered how females had been suppressed throughout history and demurely acquiesced to their husbands, putting their own pleasure aside so they could be housewives that cooked and cleaned, and how blessed she was to live in this modern age where females of all skin colors could break free of partriarchal expectations, express their inner selves, and pursue their inner desires as freely as white men had always been able to. Today white men were reaching a great reckoning, and the thought of correcting the sins of her fathers, uncannily made her pussy wet.

Inspired, she went into the bathroom. She was a modern age female, Julie decided. She was free and she would let no one dominate her. She took off the long jeans, rolled them into her backpack, and strutted out into the hall in her new denim booty shorts. She was pleased to receive compliments from Annelise as well as her other girlfriends.

Science class was next. Julie sat in front of John, and did not even make eye contact with him. John could not focus on anything that was taught, the chemical equations becoming totally jumbled in his mind as his eyes were fixated on Julie's ass. When the bell rang, Julie got up and went out the door, completely ignoring John. John had spent the entire day anticipating science where he would get to see Julie and hopefully talk to her, and just like that, she was gone. Had she purposely avoided him? John fell into a confused depression.

After school, John began lying to himself that Julie liked him but was just shy. She must have worn those shorts so she could appear more attractive to him. He managed to score some weed again, and was able to fully anesthesize the pain of Julie ignoring him as he played videogames and watched porn late into the night.

Richard Stephens III, the CEO of the biggest mineral and oil mining company in the south rolled into the Stephens mansion driveway, parking his Rolls Royce in the special spot alongside his ********'s corvette.
Richard, who was listed in Forbes magazine as one of the top 100 richest people of 2019, stepped out in his immaculate suit, his luxury watch glinting in the sunlight.
His loving wife, Kelsie-Marie came out and threw her arms around her husband.
"Welcome home, honey!" They had married when Kelsie was 21. Kelsie loved almost everything about her husband, especially his wealth. Being quite the aristocrat nothing mattered more to Kelsie than materialism and luxury. Her motto in life was that anything she wanted, she could get. Richard was the ultimate fulfillment of the dream, and Kelsie always managed to stay content. Her passion was risky investing and creating even more wealth. If an investment failed it never mattered as her husband had inherited so much wealth. Kelsie loved money, and specialized in finance, which won her the vaunted position at the premier investment bank in town.
When they were young, it had taken a while for Richard to get her pregnant, but he had managed to give her two children, Lucas and Julie. Kelsie wasn't terribly concerned that sex with her husband was just okay. Her endless pursuit of money and workaholic nature, and her conservative upbringing, made it so she didn't really think about sex much. All she knew was it was something she had to do for her husband, and the sooner they got it over with, the better. She had remained extremely loyal as the resources and freedom provided by her spouse was way too important to even consider other men.
Richard, meanwhile, was perhaps one of the happiest, most comfortable and proudest men in the United States. He was on top of everything. He had life by the balls. Anything he wanted, he could get and he loved to share this marvelous privilege with his wife, his lover, his loyal and true soulmate.

That evening, Kelsie-Marie laid in bed, facing away from her husband, who was fast asleep. Both husband and wife were too tired to have sex, in fact they rarely had sex anymore. Kelsie-Marie wanted to sleep, too, but she couldn't stop swiping away at her tablet, reading all sorts of random political articles. Deep down, she felt a profound sense of restlessness and boredom. She had everything she would ever want, every material desire was met, and then some, so what was it inside her that was almost made numb from boredom? She absently reached her pale white hands down to her pussy and started rubbing her clitoris, the light tingles of pleasure offering a welcome distraction and slowly lulling her to sleep.

* * *

Fourteen days later, John pulled into the Stephens mansion driveway in his red Ferrari, stylishly parking diagonally across the perfect red brick pavement next to the Rolls Royce and the Corvette.
He walked through the double arches to the massive, opulent double door, and pushed the button on the gilded doorbell. He heard the musical jingle echoing through the house. Moments later, Richard opened the door, and smiled at the white teen male.

"Ah, you must be Julie's date! Welcome. Take good care of my girl now, y'hear?"

Julie slowly came down the stairs and John's jaw dropped. He was spellbound and drooling. Julie had her hair done up in the most complicated style with a brooch and white pearls. She was dressed in a strapless, extravagant white dress which bared her shoulders. She leaned forward and gave John a very slight, 1-armed hug.

John was thrilled. She hugged him voluntarily! All he had to do was take it slow, but he was definitely hooking up with her tonight. He would at least get a handjob, or if not that, he promised himself he would at least feel her up. It had to happen!

"Hi." Said Julie, her cheeks flushing red. John led her to the Ferrari and opened the passenger door. She got in, and he drove her to the school. Neither one of them said much and Julie gave brusque, one-word replies to John's attempts at conversation. He couldn't stop turning his head to look at her, in awe at the splendor of her makeup. It was as if Julie couldn't have possibly looked any hotter than usually was, but with the immaculate level of makeup, its as if she was a 12/10 instead of a 10/10, and John was smitten. Through the entire car ride she stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with John even once. John realized she was simply nervous. He was sure they would both get more comfortable at the dance where they'd be among friends.

The pounding bass echoed through the town. One elderly white wife went to her window and saw the cashmere Oldsmobile Cutlass rolling down their road, the music so loud it rattled the vehicle it itself, although the three black kids in the car didn't mind. Her husband sat at the coffee table and muttered "I ought to call the police on those hooligans!" The old woman drew the curtain close. Thankfully, the car continued down the street until the music was out of earshot.

Tyrone, who was dressed in an oversized black tank top and gold chain, leaned back behind the wheel, smoking a spliff. His brotha, Du'Shawn, a heavyset black youth with cornrows, whos size made him look a lot older than he really was, reached forward to turn the music up even louder, and rapped along with the lyrics enthusiastically.

"We be hittin' up this school, get us some white pussy!" Guffawed Tyrone as they rolled into the back parking lot, hard to make out in the darkness of the night, as the homecoming dance was going into full swing.

Tyrone, Du'Shawn, and Jamal, the third brotha, who was a tall, lanky and taciturn fellow in a light blue basketball jersey, got out of the car and swaggered over to the back door of the school gymnasium where Harvey Goldberg, a school parent and chaperone, stood in his bright yellow safety vest holding a clipboard. He eyed the black youths, and didn't recognize any of them to be from the single-digit number of blacks who attended the school. It was his job to write down the names of everyone who came into the hall.

"Evening, gentlemen! Got your school ID?"

Tyrone walked right up into Harvey's face and said,

"We don't need no ID! Whatsamatter you racist?"

Du'Shawn added:

"Fucking prejudiced whiteboi!"

Harvery waved his hands.

"No, no! I'm not a racist! Of course I'm not racist, it's just the rules that I have to..."

"Then get the FUCK out the way!"

Tyrone said emphatically, some spittle flying out of his mouth and landing on Harvey's face. Tyrone stuck a finger out and pointed it into Harvey's chest, prodding him aside.

Harvey was too slow to react as the three black youths walked right past him through the doors and into the hall. Jamal, the the last to go inside, looked back over his shoulder at Harvey and smirked.
"...bitch." He said. Harvey stood there speechless, clipboard in hand.

Across the gymnasium John walked through the main entrance into the hall, Julie lightly hooked around his arm. As soon as she saw Annelise and her other girlfriends, she quickly disentangled herself from John and quite naturally, the white girls formed a group at one end of the hall while the white males congregated at the opposite end in their comfort zone along the wall and began talking about cars and videogames even as their eyes were glued to the girls in their tantalizing club outfits.

A few of the braver kids were dancing in the center, with some of the more outgoing white boys dancing with the white girls who kept slyly evading the adolescents boys' naughtier moves and advances.

One of Julie's favorite tracks came on the booming sound system.

"Come on! We know the moves to this one!" Said Annelise and grabbed her by the arm, dragging the shy Julie to the center of the dance floor.

As the glowing bright lights flashed in the dark hall, Julie closed her eyes and felt the vibe of the music. She pretended no one was around her watching, and slowly went into her well-practiced twerk moves. Annelise turned around and bent over in front of Julie and the two girls started gyrating to the song "Yike in It" which drew a lot of attention from the males who formed a circle around the two white girls. One of the football players, a white jock, shuffled over to Julie and tried dancing behind her, although he was totally unable to move with the rhythm. Julie was repulsed and quickly drifted away from him.

John, who was in the wallflower zone far from the action, was staring at Julie relentlessly watching everything. He felt a pang of indignation and jealousy at the football player's move but thankfully, he saw Julie quickly move away from him. John felt relieved that she was loyal to him.

Eventually Julie and Annelise where overwhelmed by the attention and disappeared into the thickness of the crowd to take a break from dancing.
Julie's brow was sweating and she was feeling much looser and happier after getting into the music and dancing away her tension. Then Annelise pointed across the hall when she noticed three black boys standing near the speaker.
Julies eyes found them and she couldn't take her eyes off.
"Do you know those black boys?" Said Annelise.
"Nope, never seen them!" Replied Julie.
"The one in the tank top is fucking hot!" Said Annelise. Julie didn't have to be told as she couldn't take her eyes of Tyrone, who's big chiseled arms were shining under the black light.
She was shaken from her reverie by a hand that landed on her shoulder. She turned around and saw John, who had finally mustered up the courage to walk over and talk to his date for the first time since they arrived at the dance..

"Hey Julie! Ummm... wanna... um, dance?" Stammered John.

A slow track came on, and Julie reluctantly slow-danced with John, who kept trying to pull her in closer and press her breasts into his chest. Julie subtly prevented him from doing so, keeping her arms extended and rigid. She looked over his shoulder and spotted Annelise and some other white girls talking to the three black boys. One of them, a really big black kid with a man's body and cornrows, said something that made Annelise laugh. She then pointed right in the direction where John and Julie were dancing.

The evening progressed and they danced to a few more songs, barely able to hold a conversation. Julie felt trapped by John but couldn't find a strategy to move away from him, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings. The dance ended, and Julie walked over to her girlfriends, explaining that she needed to talk to her friends about something. John waited by the door, eagerly anticipating driving Julie home and planning for the perfect opportunity to get some action in the privacy of his car.

Finally Julie came over and walked with him back to the Ferrari.
"Thanks, I had fun." She said and hugged John lightly with one arm. Seizing the opportunity, he leaned forward for a kiss but Julie just barely dodged it.
John opened the passenger door to let her back in, and was stunned when Julie didn't enter his car.
"Well, have a good night!" She said.
"What, you're not coming? I'm supposed to drive you home!" John said angrily. He was shocked and wasn't about to let her get away!
"It's OK, I got a ride home with Annelise. Bye!" With that she turned around and walked away from him. John looked across the parking lot and saw a gaggle of kids. In the darkness he didn't recognize that three of them were black. Was Julie going to some after party that he wasn't invited to? His heart sank, but he rationalized that maybe she just wanted to hang out with her girlfriends tonight. At least he got to slow dance with her and enjoy the wonderful smell of her hair!
John immediately gave up on his pursuit for the night, and drove home, lonely and perplexed.

When John got home, he smoked up all the weed he had left. However, he had waked and baked that morning and his tolerance was growing. The high he felt lasted only about 5 minutes, before the return of the negative thoughts, disappointment and confusion he felt after Julie had so coolly, easily and casually snubbed him. Now the homecoming date was suddenly over and he had nothing to look forward to anymore.
He needed to flood his mind with instant gratification to at least temporarily keep the depression at bay. There was only one thing left to do...
John fired up the computer, opened up pornhub.com and began masturbating furiously.

Meanwhile...

Tyrone sat in the middle of a couch, holding a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. He was flanked by two blonde white girls who sat on either side, their bodies pressed firmly against his. One of the girls was 18-year old Liza, who had very a nice, scantily clad body. She was almost what would be referred to as a "butterface" by some of the young males in the school. She wore a lot of makeup to try and make up for it. Tyrone had one hand on her thigh, but he was looking in the other direction at the other blonde.
The other blonde was Julie Stephens herself, really the complete package. Her face was just as beautiful as her body, and vice-versa. She was tipsy and enraptured by the stories Tyrone was telling her. She smiled widely and laughed at his jokes. The ambiance relaxed Julie immensely and turned her on. Tyrone's breath which she could feel as he leaned into her and spoke, smelled like a flavored blunt, and it turned her on. There was a lava lamp and incense burning and dim lighting, with hip-hop blaring through the speakers. Julie was enthralled to explore this black culture, the lingo, the style, and the hip-hop music. It was so new, refreshing, and exciting. It was so carefree and liberating.
The three of them were in the small, cozy entertainment room in Stephanie's mansion. Stephanie's parents were on vacation and she made sure to take advantage and throw a house party on homecoming eve.
In the living room/kitchen the girls at the party were having a twerking competition. Many drunk white girls in various stages of undressing danced and swayed on top of the kitchen counter. Stephanie, a slender yet curvy brunette, was going around making sure there was enough snacks and entertainment for everyone. She laughed inwardly, knowing that her parents couldn't possibly imagine the scene she had turned their house into, and how shocked and appalled they would be if they knew.
A giant bong sat on the table. There were only two black kids, who weren't from the school but had somehow shown up at the homecoming dance & afterparty. They were Du'Shawn and Jamal, and they seemed to be talking to the white girls the most. The girls congregated around them like moths to a flame, while several white boys who had managed to tag along sat around the table getting high, some of them talking about videogames.
Back in the small entertainment room, the two blonde girls had gotten sufficiently inebriated. Julie had started making out with Tyrone. She broke the kiss momentarily and whispered to him:
"Tonight's my birthday. I just turned 18."
Meanwhile, Liza was unzipping Tyrone's pants and reaching for his massive rod.
Julie was caught up in a sexual frenzy which she had never felt before. Eventually both girls were licking and slobbering on Tyrone's massive black cock. It took ages but when he finally came, Liza and Julie, who were both very drunk and high, made out with each other and swapped Tyrone's cum to his entertainment and delight, before they both swallowed it all without wasting a drop...

...and a few hours later...

Julie suddenly awoke, dazed and stunned. She looked at the clock. It was 3:43 AM. She realized that she had to get home before her parents got worried. Julie was shocked at what had transpired. She had never imagined she would ever do what she did last night. But deep down she felt immensely satisfied, like she had come across an epiphany in life and unlocked the secret to sexual bliss and happiness. Julie realized she had to meet more black boys so her other white girlfriends could experience what she had just experienced. She would have to spread the word!
Tyrone was passed out and she didn't want to wake him. She wrote her name and number and drew a heart on a small piece of paper and left it in Tyrone's hand, wrapping his long black fingers around the note. Then she went back to the living room and found Annelise, who was asleep with her head on Du'Shawn's lap. A few other white girls were passed out in the living room. Some of the white girls and all the white boys had gone home.
Jamal was upstairs sleeping with Stephanie in her parents' master bedroom.
Julie shook Annelise awake, and her best friend drove her back home before sunrise.

...a few hours later...

John woke up. He drank some coffee and started thinking about Julie again. John was not about to give up on her! He was certain she was just acting young and shy, but she had to like him, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to be his homecoming date! They had danced for a long time and he was CERTAIN that Julie liked him. Maybe she just didn't have much experience with boys. He was certain she had gone to hang out with her girlfriends last night. Girls were like that, they needed exclusive girl time with another. John laughed, assuming they were probably just watching sitcom reruns or eating ice cream.
John had read in an online dating advice article that it was important to be persistent when pursuing a girl. He brainstormed and came up with a million different scenarios, and finally resolved to keep texting Julie and talking to Julie at school. John was utterly in love with her and he couldn't help it. It was his plan to make Julie his high school sweetheart and to possibly even marry her one day!
John was newly emboldened and smiled to himself, eagerly anticipating the next time he would run into Julie in science class.