Freya never expected Lowell’s return. In a client’s wedding, he appears beside a very lovely woman, who was as white and rich as him. Despite jealousy, her desire for Lowell rekindles within her. In a night that she didn’t expect, Lowell lures her back to his bed. Freya learns that she could never resist his charm, especially the power of his manhood.
Freya heard their conversation from afar. She feigned a focus of attention to the cake in front of her, and she stared at it like it was a puzzle piece. She crossed her arms. They hugged her delicate, bony, and slim figure. Her long and dark legs were crossed under the table. Freya’s face was a solid mask of indifference, and her eyes were an empty black. She never eavesdropped, but it had been three years since she ever heard his masculine, cool, and powerful voice. Only Lowell spoke with such clarity, appeal, and an enigmatic tone that matched his handsome face. Even from afar, in a crowded occasion, it wasn’t difficult to pick out her former lover’s voice from the crowd.
She couldn’t believe that Lowell was one of the guests. It was an exhilarating surprise for her. She was the one who had written the guests’ names on the invitation cards. How could his name escape her?
She thought for a while, and then she realized: it was probably the name of his wife that she didn’t know. When Lowell left her because of his arranged marriage to someone, Freya didn’t bother to ask who the woman was.
It happened three years ago. Lowell and Freya were both seniors at the state college. She studied interior design and event planning, while Lowell studied business analytics. The two of them fell in love at first sight. It was during the freshman dance, and the memory would always remain clear in Freya’s head.
She was a young, innocent, virgin girl. But most of all, she was a dark-skinned country girl who had never traveled away from her beloved Mississippi. Freya was a shy woman of eighteen, doubting whether she was lovely enough to go to the dance or not. She only had a blue dress which was trimmed at a simple and conservative cut. Freya knew that the white girls in the dance would turn her into an unnoticed flower on the wall. But during that night, Freya felt enough courage to go to the dance.
As soon as she got there, Freya almost wanted to come back to the dormitory. The lights were beautiful and the decorations were lovely. Even the food tasted really delicious. But no man in the hall seemed to want to dance with her. For the first thirty minutes of staying in the hall, Freya felt like she was enduring the most horrible minutes of her life.
But there was an exception. He was Lowell Flesch, a half-German student who had blue eyes, blonde hair, and a charming personality. He took Freya to dance and decided to spend the night with her. There were many other girls obviously more beautiful than her.
In her young life, Freya could never understand what Lowell saw in her. She couldn’t believe that he had chosen someone like her. When they were already a couple, he took painstaking steps to show to her how special she was.
He took her to date at a diner by the seaside. Freya remembers it as one of the most romantic nights of her life. Lowell was a complete gentleman, a very smart conversationalist, and he truly knew how to make a girl feel special despite her insecurities and doubts. He didn’t mind that Freya had dark-skin, thick and curly hair, and a nose which was shaped like a tomato. He always told her that she had lovely eyes, a very sexy chin, and a pair of lips that he would die for to kiss.
At first, Freya laughed at his compliments. She couldn’t believe that someone, a white guy especially, would think of her as someone very beautiful and sensual. Freya always regarded herself as an average African-American woman who wasn’t worthy of the attention of fair-skinned, better men. But Lowell tried to prove otherwise. He seriously courted her and regularly took her to dates, until Freya was confident enough that she could keep a relationship with him.
But God, she was fascinated by him. Ever since she met Lowell, Freya had always been deeply attracted to him. She loved his cool voice, the way that he laughed, and how he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. Freya had always wanted to lie naked in Lowell’s arms, feel his kisses all over her body. She wanted to give herself to him, and she wanted to feel how Lowell was like, as a lover and romancer.
After a few months, her dreams did come true. Lowell took her virginity on the rooftop of a deserted hall in the college. It was a warm summer night that she would never forget. They took shots from a bottle of vodka, until things turned hot and a kiss turned into a sweet caress beneath their clothes. She didn’t fight the passion that bound the two of them. She happily and lovingly welcomed him to her arms.
He was never disappointing. Lowell was a tender, sweet lover, and there had been no inch of her skin that he didn’t kiss. He passionately made love to her for an hour, saying sweet and beautiful things that Freya always held near too her heart. They lied naked at the rooftop, looking up at the stars, and Lowell told her that they were always meant to be together.
The seasons and semesters passed, but their love always burned like a freshly lit candle. Lowell and Freya never run out of vigor when it comes to romance. They were never sore, and they were never bland and tasteless. Lowell and Freya made love like it was always the first time. They made love not just it their young nod tender bodies, but also with their hearts.
She expected that Lowell would stay with her forever. Freya herself couldn’t imagine how Lowell would feel if she was no longer in his bed. But after years of being together as college sweethearts, Freya wondered why she never met Lowell’s parents and family. She never told Lowell about this matter, because she believed that only Lowell’s love was important. As long as they lived each other, nothing could go wrong between them.
But Freya was wrong. When the last semester of their senior year came, she noticed a big difference with Lowell. He didn’t seem to be as happy as before whenever they were together. When they made love, it was if he was hurrying to get off so they could fish it. She felt the flame dying inside him. But beneath it all, Freya saw that there was sadness, a terminal pain hiding beneath the blue eyes of her lover.
“Is there a problem, Lowell? Are you alright, my love?” Freya finally asked. She held the sides of his face and she looked deeply into his eyes. Freya couldn’t stand the pain of seeing him lonely and monotonous.
“Everything’s fine with me, Freya. You don’t have to worry.” His voice was heavy.
“Are you keeping something from me, Lowell? Are you sick? Is there any sort of problem, with your family, with your studies? You can tell it to me, my love.”
There was persistence, pain, and genuine concern in Freya’s voice. Lowell knew it by the look in her dark eyes. Freya’s sensual lips had been pursed into a hard line, like a child fighting back tears. He knew that hews hurting her. The idea of it tore Lowell’s heart.
“I am terribly sorry, Freya.”
Lowell started to sob. He held Freya very tightly into his arms, crying his heart out on her shoulders. He caught a whiff of her perfume, and deep inside him he knew that it was going to be his last smell of her. He wished that her slender and sensual body would never again slip out if his embrace. But Lowell knew that it wasn’t the turret.
“Why are you sorry, Lowell? Is there a problem? Is there something that you didn’t tell me?”
Freya was already in the brink of tears. Lowell knew that Freya would cry a river of tears if she knew the truth. In his mind, Lowell had been choosing the right words to say for over two weeks. But there was only one way in which he could say what he meant. There was no other way that he could tell his girlfriend that he was marrying another woman, without breaking her heart.
“I am going to get married in the spring, Freya. My parents have planned the arranged marriage.”
At first, Freya’s face was blank as a sheet of paper. She processed the words that Lowell had said. One by one, she understood what he meant, and what everything implied.
The pain exploded in her heart like a time bomb. Freya realized that this was something that had always been about to come to her life. She was able to connect the dots. It was the reason why she never met Lowell’s family. It was the reason why he never talked about long-term plans with her. It was the reason why she always felt like Lowell would be lost from her life, eventually.
Freya’s knees went weak and she couldn’t bear to hear a word from Lowell anymore. She didn’t ask him to make an explanation. Everything was clear to her: Lowell belonged to a rich, powerful, influential white family. On the other hand, she was a black, powerless woman, who could only afford college because of a scholarship.
The truth was hard, cold, and bitter, like a slap of ice on her cheeks. Freya fought back her tears as best as she could, before she turned away and said goodbye to Lowell. She was already sobbing while walking away from him, and Lowell didn’t chase her. Freya knew that everything had ended between them.
She never blamed Lowell for it, because she already knew the consequences involved in their relationship. She was the only one to be blamed for ever aspiring to belong to someone like Lowell. She should’ve stayed in her dorm room during the freshman night. She should’ve known better than to dance with a fair-skinned man.
But Freya always loved Lowell. She loved him with her heart and her soul, and she never felt regret when time came that he had to leave her. Freya never asked Lowell to defend her and fight for her. She knew that she wasn’t worth fighting for. She would only be forever grateful for the love that Lowell had freely given her.
And now, she couldn’t believe that his sweet voice was buzzing through her ears. It felt like only yesterday when she heard endearing words from him. It felt only like yesterday when she was hearing him moan, screaming her name as he climaxed in pleasure.
With a brave face and confident heart, Freya uncrossed her beautiful legs and made her wee to Lowell’s table. She knew who his seatmates were, since she had been responsible for arranging the sates of the guests.
“Good morning everyone,” Freya said with a sweet yet a very professional voice. Everybody at the table silenced and looked at her. Even Lowell, who now looked older and more mature because of the stubbles on his face, focused his entire attention to her. It didn’t seem like he was in the company of his wife, or anyone.
Their gazes met. At first, there was a vague connection between Lowell and Freya’s eyes. It was as if each of them was looking at another stranger. There went that initial shock and surprise that one feels after seeing a very old friend.
For Lowell, it was Freya who had changed a lot. She now looked more sophisticated, educated, and well-off than before. She wore clothes that she couldn’t afford a few years ago, and she carried within her a certain pride and arrogance. Nevertheless, everything was the same about her. Her eyes were still sparkling whenever she smiled. Her skin was a smooth but dark one, and she shape of her arms, legs, hips, and breasts remained the same. He could still remember how they felt beneath his touch.
Lowell was tempted to call Freya by her name. But, he let her introduce herself among her own guests first. Lowell feigned his interest and eagerness with her. In the way that Freya talked, he knew that she did the same.
“I would like to commend you on the success of Joanna’s wedding party.” He finally said to her. Lowell eyes her with apparent kindness, but deep within his gaze was an underlying desire and eagerness for Freya.
“Thank you, Mr. Flesch.” She said professionally. But right then and there, she wanted to do very unprofessional things with Lowell.
“What do you think, Marcy? Maybe Ms. Wade could plan our next anniversary party?” He said to his wife.
Marcy, fair and white with a nest of golden hair, smiled and nodded thoughtlessly at what Lowell said. She did all of this without a hint of thinking. As she said, “Yes, Lowell, that’s a magnificent idea,” Freya instantly knew what kind of wife Marcy might be. She could only imagine how irritated, if not bored, Lowell should be with her.
She was thankful for some of Marcy’s ignorance anyway. The blonde wife didn’t protest when Lowell asked Freya if he could meet her in private, following the discussion of his business with her. Probably, Marcy had been used to Lowell having personal business meetings. Or maybe, she was just a submissive woman who never thought maliciously about her husband.
Lowell agreed to meet her on a restaurant, at the basement of a three-star hotel. Freya felt naughty while thinking about the reasons why Lowell had asked to meet her at a hotel. Maybe, he had intended to do more than just talking to her tonight.
Freya arrived early, and Lowell followed ten minutes later. He apologized for his tardiness, and then he called a waiter to get them a bottle of wine. They said the first round of formalities and casualties, until time came to discuss the matter between them.
“I didn’t really intend to discuss the details of my party to you right now,” Lowell said with a fair amount of shame and embarrassment. “I guess I just wanted to find a way to meet you again, Freya.”
It pierced her heart. Deep inside her, she felt the same. But she didn’t want to melt and burn right in front of Lowell. She merely nodded and looked coolly at him. “Well, I’m glad to see you again, Lowell.”
Lowell grinned handsomely, boyishly. “Really?” He used the tone that he did when he used to joke with Freya.
Her lips curled into a smile, and her heart shattered in a mix of confused emotions. She was about to break down and sob, but Freya managed to smile and converse kindly with Lowell.
Freya asked if they could take a room. She told Lowell that she needed to say something in the privacy of dead walls. Lowell didn’t ask further. Freya returned from the hotel receptionist and together they went upstairs to lock their bodies behind a solid wooden door. It was the only testament to the sin that they would commit out of love.
Their hungry lips reunited without saying a word. Freya’s mouth was still as hot and as warm as how Lowell remembered it. He grabbed her breasts, firm and seductive, like he used to. Freya moaned upon the feeling of his strong hands, squeezing her and touching her like he did in her dreams.
Their clothes were hurriedly stripped off from their bodies. Freya longed to feel the soft blonde hairs on Lowell’s chest, brushing against her soft and perky breasts. She wanted to feel the hardness of cock pressed against her flat belly. Freya ran her dark hands all over his gorgeous back, digging her nails onto his pale, milky skin.
He carried her to the bed. Lowell wanted to feel Freya powerless, subordinate, and surrendering beneath his strong body. But tonight, she felt different. Freya’s sexuality radiated with more power than he could handle. She found her own way on top of him. With eager hands, she grabbed his cock and guided its way inside her wet opus.
Freya was relentless. She rode him hard and she rocked the bed while Lowell’s cock went in and out of her tight pussy. On top of him, Freya’s breasts dangled from her chest. Lowell held them with his hands, and he squeezed Freya’s nipples. Between their thighs, the pleasure of their union was beyond description. Freya’s body had longed to feel the length of him throbbing and rubbing inside the soft walls of her vagina. Only Lowell’s cock could reach the sweet spots that made her moan and sigh. And for Lowell, only Freya’s pussy was tight and warm enough to clench and his cock and rub it until he was in the brink of his orgasm.
Lowell gazed at Freya’s sexy body and whispered her name. She vigorously went up down his cock. When Freya was feeling her orgasm building up, she shifted her angle and grinded her prissy against Lowell’s dick. Her clitoris rubbed with the base of Lowell’s penis, and her orgasm was finally a hand’s reach.
Both of them trembled and screamed. A mind-blowing orgasm tore their bodies and sent them to heaven. Lowell came inside Freya, his hard cock throbbing and pumping cum inside her. She felt his explosion inside her walls. Freya’s pussy throbbed with a pleasure that flowed through her veins. She could feel her orgasm down to the tips of her fingers.
She collapsed and lied beside him on the bed. There was no telling what would happen in the next day. But Freya and Lowell knew one thing: their bodies would always find a way to each other. No matter what happened, day or night, they were willing to be each other’s lover in the dark.