<i>The Amulet of Desire had been forged by the gods of some long-gone civilization. The small crystal fit in the palm of the hand of even the youngest of eligible maidens. <br/>
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And now untold centuries later, the amulet belonged to a young woman entering the 'real world' .</i><br/><br/>-------<br/><br/>Branson Hayes was just starting his senior year. The computer science major would have spent the entire four years stereotyped as a geek, or a nerd, but two things kept him from that fate.<br/>For one, the 6' tall, lean and slightly muscular black man had spent his high school years on the track team, and continued to run at least five miles, come hell or high water, each day. For another, he had an 11" cock.<br/><br/>He'd tried and failed to get away from the stereotype as the "big, hung black guy" as far back as the sophomore year of high school, but had little luck. He was a walking schoolgirl's fantasy. Which, he had to admit, meant he had no shortage of flings, one-night-stands and even the occasional girlfriend, but nothing lasted. Few who 'caught' him knew what to do with him, especially if they couldn't figure out, as many of the younger girls couldn't, how to turn themselves on and relax enough to take him without difficulty. That, and the stereotype meant the girls who did throw themselves at him were almost always white. Boooooring!<br/><br/>This, of course, led his own fantasies in the opposite direction of reality. Whereas the other boys in his dorms of past years never left the 'blank-minded white co-ed' or 'asian slut' genres, his fantasies skewed older. Nearly twice his age, in fact, to the sort of woman who not only comfortable with their sexuality, but were empowered by others wanting them. Alas, there were few seasoned porn stars or strippers on campus.<br/><br/>It helped. A little. He'd taken endless amounts of flak for it until finally snagging a coveted one-bedroom apartment for senior year.<br/><br/>He found himself at yet another 'welcome freshman' party. His fourth, and hopefully, last, hosted by the largest fraternity on campus. They were always good for one thing: finding a gaggle of girls to share his bed for the first few weeks.<br/><br/>The shaved-bald, broad-shouldered Branson was dressed in a well-fitting dress shirt and tie, a stark contrast to the 'jock' look most of the men sported. His reputation, by this point, spoke for itself. He scanned the crowd from a corner, drink in hand, the pulsing beats of the DJ's droaning music providing a metronome for his glances.<br/><br/>Blonde. Blonde. Brunette. Chinese. Korean. Redhead. The last one locked eyes and smiled at him. a freshman by the looks of her deer-in-headlights look and her already-flushed cheeks from just enough to drink. He smiled, beckoning her to him, eyes focused on the small unique-looking necklace dangling down from her neck on a silver chain and resting between her breasts.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1136" data-username="@Mature Desires" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1136/">@Mature Desires</a>