She sighed. She closed her eyes and waited. His hands closed over her breasts, and then he drew back and away. She opened her thighs and raised her knees, and then his thing was touching hers, both gently slimed. She helped him in, keeping her eyes closed until he was hilted. He withdrew and returned, and began a steady in-and-away movement, slow away, faster and faster in. When she opened her eyes, she saw Leon sprawled on the bank beside them, his white body glistening with water, his dick hard and red, thrusting out from a sparse sprouting of blond pubic hair. Closing her eyes again she reached to touch him on his thing, felt him quiver, and drew her hand away. Floyd was panting and pumping faster and faster. She held herself back, letting him get well ahead of her, the creek wet of his body mixed now with sweat wet, and him choking out sounds like a bullfrog in spring. She relaxed and lay loose when he shot into her; she was pleased, gratified, but nowhere near satisfied. After slumping briefly over her, he put his hands to the ground and supported himself, pulling out of her. Arching his behind, he turned and fell away to one side, resting on his back and gradually breathing more quietly.

Leon, on her other side, gazed at them both, until she turned her body slightly toward him in invitation. He touched a breast. It was hot, its nipple hard. She took his hand and guided it back to his dick, making his hand touch it before hers did. When hers touched it, he was suddenly, all of him, one muscle. He swung over her, and she set his dick on a straight, smooth course. The fever and excitement of his coming made her come too, and they locked together, their sweaty cheeks clenched, their lips not having touched at all.

The grateful weakness of having given himself up over-came him. For a few seconds he almost slept, or almost fainted, until the thought shocked him awake—she’s black. He slipped out of her, as if by doing so he might deny he had been there. Lying on his back with his eyes closed tight, he covered his limbering dick and slack balls with both hands.

He heard them whispering, but he pretended to sleep, and when their voices went away, he did sleep. When he woke, it was only a few minutes later, but he had no notion of what time had passed. Floyd was standing on the bank looking at the water. Suddenly he turned and smiled at Leon, a smile so warm and fond, Leon lost his terror, and sat up, and stood.

“Come on,” Floyd said. “Race you for the watermelon!”