Ellie slipped her tapered finger into the folds of the camel toe that grew around the seam of her beige linen pants. Feeling the warmth of her engorged lips she was sure not to rub. Knowing herself as well as she did, she knew that a few quick strokes would bring about a flood of juices that could seep past her g-string onto the delicate cloth of her pants. Her job didn’t require her to leave her desk, but even so, she didn’t like the insecurity that came with waiting for her pants to dry.

Instead El closed her legs around her finger and watched all of the beautiful men walk by. El’s job was to sit at the desk in the lobby of the record company issuing guest passes and offering directions for first time visitors. Ninety percent of the time she had nothing to do, so when one of the guys from the offices above stopped by to talk, she was grateful.

El never imagined herself as a receptionist. Her dream was to work in the music industry and this was her first opportunity since college. She considered this job as her literally starting on the ground floor. She had much more ambitious plans for the future, but she was appreciative of where she was today.

El’s job did however come with a complication. El had long blond hair and rich blue eyes and came from generations of the same. There was never anything explicitly said by her parents but she understood who she was expected to date and marry. As both of her parents proudly stated, they were direct descendants of the Vikings. That was a lineage that none of her cousins had failed to continue.

El though, didn’t seem to have the same lust for Nordic cock. She had certainly met guys who were great no matter their heritage, but she didn’t feel a lust for them. Who she did fantasize about when she lay on her bed alone in the dark, were black men. The thought of their ebony complexions and dark meat overpowered her fantasies. The idea of their two contrasting complexions touching one another engorged her pussy. And the fact that she often felt a little out of control around them, was the main reason she did her best to keep them at a distance whenever she could.

El’s new job, however, made that distance impossible. This record label, though also known for their pop acts, was best known for their rappers. That meant that a constant stream of young black executives and hugely built black artists passed by her desk every day. It was enough to drive El mad leaving as her only option a single finger between the folds of her clothed pussy most of the time.

In some cosmic sense, her working at this record label seemed to open up the flood gates of gorgeous black men into her life. Never noticing it before, suddenly it felt like her gym consisted only of black men. Their barely covered hairless chests pumped heavy weights and their thick thighs jogged next to her as she ran her daily two miles on the treadmill.

It was in a moment of weakness when she turned to the particularly hot, young, built, 6’2” black man running next to her and spoke.

“What?” The man said removing one of his ear buds.

“I asked if you know when the gym closes.” El said conveniently forgetting.

“Sunday’s are at nine.”

“Do you believe how busy it is?” She asked unwilling to let go of his attention now that she had it.

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” he said looking down at the display just as the treadmill slowed to a walk.

El subtly reduced her speed until it matched his. “Hey, has the complexion of the gym changed?”

“What do you mean?” The man asked in his deep, rich, eloquent voice.

“The people. I’m mean, I like it but I was wondering if it was just me.”

The man reached down for his towel patting his head as he looked around.  “No, looks the same to me.”

“Seriously?” She asked feeling awkward.

“Why? How has it changed?”

El looked into the man’s wide dark brown eyes. His soulful look made her weak in the knees causing her to hit stop on the treadmill. El fumbled for her words before throwing out her hand.

“Ellie,” she said hoping that the treadmill would explain the sudden flush she felt in her face.

“Davis,” he said in a sensual tone.

Davis stopped his machine and shook her hand. “What do you mean the complexion has changed?”

“Ummm… nothing. That was just me being… I don’t know what I was being.”

El smiled and put her hand on her small waist. She was hoping that her gesture would direct his attention elsewhere, like to her perfectly sculpted body and her tanning-booth bronzed skin. After all, she didn’t work out in a sports bra and low cut running tights for her benefit.

When Davis lowered his eyes and stared at her hour glass figure, El knew her distraction had worked.

“You heading out?” El asked as she stepped off her machine.

“Yeah. You too?”

“Yeah, I’m goin’ home to grab some dinner,” she stated hoping that she had given him an opening.

“Cool. You goin’ now?” He asked pointing to the door.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t have to walk though. I’m just completely wiped.”

“I know what you mean. I walked as well.”

“Oh really. You live around here?”