Saturday , January 29 2022

Black mom & white mom share their sons

It was late autumn of 1972. Back then, the freshman basketball team played separately from the varsity team. Gina filed into the gymnasium with college kids and other adults. Just because it was a small state college, didn’t mean that parents weren’t just as proud of their children and they attended the games to lend support.

Stepping into the college’s basketball arena for the first time, Gina scanned the bleachers for empty seats. There were many. Apparently her son’s freshman basketball game wouldn’t be standing-room-only. Still, small groups of both students and adults dotted the bleachers. Gina walked slowly along what seemed to be the home side of the court. The two teams were at either end of the court finishing their warm-ups.

As a single mother, Gina had attended many of her son’s high school basketball games, so this was nothing new, just a new gym. She made her way up the bleachers behind the home team’s bench, and sat down. She smiled at a black woman sitting in the same row about six feet away. The woman returned her smile.

Gina located her son on the court. He was taking warm-up shots. He wore a silver number seventeen on his maroon uniform trimmed with silver. Pete would be a handsome kid even if he wasn’t mine, Gina thought. He possessed a handsome face, dark brown hair, and a lean, muscular body.

Both sets of players were called over to their respective benches for last minute words from their coaches. Then the starting five from each team took the court for the tipoff. Pete lined up outside of the center jump circle. The center in maroon managed to tip the ball to Pete, who then flipped it to number six.

“Go Leopards!” called the black woman next to Gina.

At least we’re rooting for the same team, Gina thought.

Number six dribbled to the left and passed to Pete. He pump-faked his defender into the air, ducked under him, and banked in a twelve footer. The referee blew his whistle and signaled to count the shot and a foul.

“Nice move seventeen!” the black woman yelled.

Gina slid close to the black woman and said, “Number seventeen is my son. His name is Pete.”

The woman smiled and said, “That was a tough shot with the other guy on his back.”

Gina smiled and nodded. Pete sank the free throw, and the Leopards were up 3 – 0.

“My son’s number six,” the black woman said. “His name’s Marv. I’m Monique.”

“I’m Gina… Marv gets an assist.”

Monique smiled and nodded. Gina guessed Monique’s age to be about her own age of forty-two. Monique wore her black hair in a relaxed, wavy style reminiscent of The Supremes and other black female groups of the time. Her brown, almond-shaped eyes with their long lashes, were hypnotically beautiful. Her lips were full and sensuous. Her nose was neither too big nor too small. Milk chocolate was the color of Monique’s skin. Tight jeans and a tight sweater showed off Monique’s figure. When Monique leaned back in the seat, Gina couldn’t help notice that Monique’s slim waist accentuated her large breasts.

“Your son is a tall, good-looking young man,” Monique commented. “How tall is he?”

“Thanks… He’s about six-five,” Gina said, and then added, “Those boys grow like weeds, don’t they?”

“You’re telling me. Marv was five-ten his junior year, five-eleven his senior year, and now he’s six foot even.”

When Gina turned her attention back to the game, Monique eyed her new companion. Gina’s straight, dark brown hair was parted in the middle and reached just past her shoulders. Beneath her glasses, Gina’s brown eyes were inviting. Gina’s lips were on the full side, which Monique found to be sexy. Monique correctly assumed that Gina was Italian. Even though Gina’s clothing was rather loose-fitting, Monique could tell that Gina possessed a lean, but shapely body.

During the course of the game, the two moms became friends. They discovered that they lived in neighboring towns, were both forty-two years old, and were both divorced single moms. They cheered when their son’s team won by six points. Pete lead the team in scoring with twenty-two, while Marv had eleven points and ten assists.

Before going their separate ways, Gina and Monique exchanged phone numbers. Two days later, with some stomach butterflies, Gina dialed Monique’s number.

“Hi, Monique. This is Gina… Pete’s mom.”

“Oh hi. I was just thinking about calling you,” Monique said.

Gina said, “I was wondering if you were going to the game Friday night, and if you wanted to go together?”

“Ain’t that something… that’s what I was gonna call you about,” Monique laughed. “Yeah, I’d like to go with you.”

After chatting and laughing for an hour, Gina and Monique finally said goodbye and hung up. They had begun to discover that they had a great deal in common, and that their differences added interest. Gina and Monique found that they had similar tastes in music, movies, sports, and shared a somewhat perverted sense of humor. From then on, they attended their sons games together, talked on the phone frequently, and even met for drinks occasionally. The women discussed the trials and tribulations of raising sons as single mothers. With money tight, both Marv and Pete lived at home and commuted to college. Monique and Gina were just thankful that their sons were getting a college education.

In a short time, the black woman and the white woman had begun to openly share intimate details about their lives. Both being non-judgmental, each felt more comfortable with each other than even with family or friends. They traded stories about sex with their ex-husbands and former lovers. Almost no detail of their sex lives were kept from the other, as they graphically described what each liked sexually.

One Saturday night, after meeting for drinks, Gina and Monique wound up back at Gina’s for a nightcap or two.

They had just fixed drinks and settled into the living room, when Gina said, “I gotta show you what I found in Pete’s room, when I was cleaning this morning.”

Gina scurried off to another room and returned a minute later. She handed Monique eight magazine pages which had been carefully removed. Monique gazed down at the pages. The color photos on the pages showed a black woman having sex with a white man. The photos graphically depicted oral sex and fucking in various poses. “I used to find an occasional Playboy or Penthouse,” Gina said, “But this is the hardest core stuff yet. Do you ever find Marv looking at stuff like this?”

Without looking up from the porn, Monique replied with a chuckle, “They’re boys with raging hormones. My Marv jerks off to anything and everything. I find more wadded up Kleenex in that boy’s trash can.”

Gina laughed and said, “Yeah, Pete goes through a lot of Kleenex too. I think that sometimes Pete beats off at least twice a day. Once, I came home early and caught Pete jerking off in the living room. He ran into his bedroom, embarrassed as hell. He tied to cover his huge hard-on, but couldn’t. He’s got a bigger dick than his dad did.”

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