Interracial Love and Slavery..

I have always been attracted to black women… the slim ones with the bubble butt, firm legs, small breasts but proportional to her frame. Caramel to dark skin..

I’ve dated and three black women like that and one in particular has had my heart for years now.

I think about being a white man in the days of slavery. I’m a history / genealogy geek so I have researched a lot of graveyards and got to know people.

There were a lot of “Melato” people in those days. Some were birthed out of violent rapes by their slave masters. But, some were not.
I found so called “White Graveyards” holding a White Husband and a Wife who was black. Granted, That is highly uncommon. The old Census reports had children listed and Race was indicated as “M” (Melato).

I know me and I day dream sometimes about being a young man, well dressed, raised by a religious family who opposed slavery greatly.

I am in a town, and there is a slave auction going on. I hear a couple of fat, ugly and clearly racist older men looking, laughing and talking sexual about a girl. I look and I see a beautiful lady just a few years younger then me. Crying, chains on her arms, fear in her eyes.

Bidding starts on her and the abusers are making bids… her eyes and mine lock and I had no choice but to try to save her. My heart was torn, I couldn’t let her be taken. As the bidding is ending.. I make a bid that could not be beaten and I win.

I go to her and grab her hand and tell her.. eye to eye.. she is safe. I’m not going to hurt her, I’m not going to let anyone else hurt her. After paperwork is finalized, I take her to my home, no chains, no threats.. she has not spoken a word. I’m sure there is too much distrust in white men that her fear is still strong.

As we arrive, I take her hand and tell her… she is no slave here. She starts crying.. I’m fighting those tears myself… just trying to be strong. I explain to her about my upbringing and that even though I bought her.. my money spent was to save her. I told her if she wanted to go… I would not make her stay.

She begins to tell me her tragic story.. how she doesn’t know where her mother is and that her father died from exhaustion do to extreme forced labor. She has brothers and sisters but, she does not know where they are. She tells me she has no where to go.

I tell her that she is welcome to live under my roof. She will not be abused, Raped, forced to work for anyone. She will have her own room, her own bed.

She gently nods her head and we walk inside.

I ask her if there was anything she needed. She said she was hungry and wanted to wash up. I told her that I also am hungry and plan on cooking. I told her she could bathe while I show her my cooking skills. She smiled with a small chuckle and agreed.

She didn’t have any clothes with her besides what she was wearing. My sister had moved away from the farm for college in New York. She had left behind a lot of clothes. Fortunately, she was able to fit them. We heated the water for her bath… she took the water into the other room and slid into a soothing warm bath… the pain in her body was being made better as the heat pulled it out of her. She quickly nodded off to sleep bu woke up smelling a dinner being made. She washed, rinsed off.. got out of the tub and put on a dress that was just perfect for her.

She came in the room and I looked at her and my heart was beating good. She was amazing. I snapped to… and apologized to her for staring. I told her just was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
She quickly looked away, covering her mouth with her hands… Clearly, she had not been expecting to hear words of kindness… and from my feelings, they were words of love. Though, I hadn’t known her long, though the evil circumstances behind her being brought to my town, though the days where love between two people who are of a different race is not acceptable.. though…. the list goes on… I felt a connection between us that was as real as any connection could be. I felt she was feeling it too but, I recognized and understood her still holding mistrust.
After what Slaves and children of slaves went through… who could blame her?

Days went on, conversations took place, laughter took the place of fear, Hope was setting in.. an occasional accidental touch lead to the day that our lives changed.

It was a stormy night, we were stuck in the house… a fireplace was keeping it cozy. We had been sitting there, talking.. she was telling me about her life, how she misses her family. She started crying.

I couldn’t help it, I got up walked to her and took her in my arms. Her head laid on my shoulder and her arms wrapped around me and tightly we held each other as her tears subsided… our hearts were beating together.. I kissed her gently on her forehead. She looked up at me. Her eyes were again locked into mine and she realized the love I had for her was real.

Her fears subsided and we were there, storms blowing out side but, the warmth of two people who’s souls were connecting stopped the storm that was raging in her.

Nothing sexual happened that night but, I think we both knew that this was developing into an intimate relationship that was going to be challenged by some, hated by some, but.. if it took us dying to share our love with each other… we would do that.

No one was going to stop the love I felt in my soul..

TO BE CONTINUED…

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9xu51s/interracial_love_and_slavery