1. The Dance


    Date: 8/23/2017, Categories: Interracial, Author: BethanyFrasier, Rating: 15, Source: LushStories

    much time working on my dance, that Jon was falling behind again with his history studies. We were both frustrated and tired, but I insisted he meet me on the third floor offices of the history department, so we could go over the things he needed to catch up on before his grades started to slip. It was late at night, and most of the building was deserted. We met in the lobby, and took the elevator up to three, but the doors opened onto darkness. Down at the other end of the long hallway, some light spilled out through the glass door of the office of the department secretary, which guided us down the long, dark corridor to the suite of professors' offices at the other end. I unlocked the outer office and one burning table-lamp on the secretary's desk was all we needed to navigate back through the darkened suite of offices of all the history professors in the department. We got to the reference library room on the far side of the office of the department chair, where we usually studied together. We flipped on the lights and tossed our book-bags on the study table, settling into some uncomfortable plastic and metal desk-chairs, presumably designed by the Marquis de Sade. Jon, usually upbeat and polite, merely looked at me with a distracted expression that said: 'So?' I knew we weren't up for this, but we were here, so I pulled out the history syllabus from my bag, and tossed it on the table in front of him. Jon rolled his eyes and looked out the window into the night. I had ...
    never seen him like this. The set-backs in the dance department just turned his mind to the other current problem-at-hand, his set-backs in learning the things his father had sent him halfway around the world to study. "Hey!" I prodded. "You with me?" "Yeah, right!" He turned and looked at me. "Twentieth Century British colonialism. Chief Lobengula sure got his black ass handed to him, dint he? What's up with that?" I smiled, in spite of myself, and Jon just watched as I spilled my chin onto my interlaced fingers on the table-top, with my elbows stretched out lazily on either side. I turned my head and looked up at him out of the corner of my eyes. "What's wrong?" I prompted. "Everything is wrong," he answered. "We can't do this thing the way you and the rest of the folks down in Sullivant want you to do it!" "Don't let those racist crackers intimidate you, Jon!" I pleaded, but I knew they had shaken him up. "Its just art. They'll never understand it!" Whatever I said didn't negate the fact that ignorance and prejudice were alive and well at Ohio's biggest institution of higher learning. Some clowns would always be jealous of a black man dancing with an attractive, near-naked white girl, even if they had never touched each other sexually. I thought about that for a moment, unable to fathom such prejudice. Then I got an idea. "Jon, could you run Steve and Malcolm through the routine to learn your part?" "Why?" he replied. "Malcolm is as black as I am!" "Strength in numbers," I ...
«12...456...1011»