There was a dreamy look on her face, so I made sure she knew I was singing to her alone. I imagined I was in her arms and she in mine, rubbing soft an... hard body parts together…. Slowly. I seem to sing better when dreaming about sex.I announced the time for our twenty-minute break and putting my guitar on its stand, turned around and there she stood. With one hand on the rail, she motioned with the other for me to join her on the dance floor. “Where’s your partner?" I asked.“Oh, I told him. ..”“Why? Why is it pity? I’m sure he only wants for me what I want for myself.”“Well, if you are quite sure – after all I’d never want to cast doubts in your mind.”“But why? Why do you say that?”“Megan I’m almost forty five you know. I too had ambitions at your age and they were almost wrecked by a man who I thought loved me deeply and wanted for me what I wanted for myself, just like you. Here, let me fill your glass.”“What happened, Professor?” “Not ‘Professor’ anymore Megan, we are friends. Sonia looked at me and said” do you like that?” I could only moan a yes and she remarked “there’s more where that came from”.She slid my panties off and we moved out of the dressing room and laid down on the floor, her mouth went straight to my moist clit. Her tongue moved in and out of my pussy with such rhythm, it was so exciting she did this for a few minutes and asked “are you wet yet?” I said “very wet”. She told me to turn over and get on my hands and knees, I was happy to oblige. As. Looking back, I think it was probably because I had never been with a black man. The fact that I was biracial never seemed to matter when I was growing up, and once I started having sex with Daddy and my brothers, I just assumed that I would always want to be with white men.His dark skin and sharply defined features had an effect on me. He noticed though, and turned to me. It was as if all the other men in my life had just vanished as he introduced himself.In a deep baritone, he said, "Hi. My.