CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I am so deep into pleasing myself that I don’t hear him pull up in my driveway. I am snapped out of my sex-induced trance by the sound of someone trying to open my door. I glance at the Lenox crystal clock on the end table, and smile. It’s exactly nine-thirty.
Because I have changed plans on him, he’s smart enough to know to ring the doorbell. I get up from the sofa and open the door, quickly placing my index finger up to my lips, then to his, indicating for him to not say a word. He grins, playing along while walking in. I shut the door and lock it, then hand him his mask. It’s a simple black mask, and makes him look like a chocolate Zorro when he places it on his face. I stand and watch him strip off his clothes. Mmmm, oh my goodness! Between his legs is the blackest, prettiest dick I’ve ever seen. It’s thick, shiny and almost the color of tar. My mouth waters and I can already feel the dew from my ripe and ready pussy dripping.
I am almost shaking with anticipation. Between you and me, there’s nothing like being on your knees with your head down on a pillow, ass up, cheeks spread open, waiting in anticipation. Pussy lips slick with excitement as you feel the warmth of his breath approaching. His tongue glides across your pussy, from the bottom to the top, then darts in and out while rubbing your clit. Mmm. His tongue is hypnotic. Each lap, each stab of his tongue, gets you wetter and hotter than the stroke before. You twist, and thrust your body to meet his lips. Your moans deepen. You feel yourself getting lost in pleasure. And you beg. And beg. And beg…until he feeds your eager, overheated snatch with deep, fast strokes. Mmmm.
I grab Nelson by his fat cock, slowly stroke it, then lead him up the stairs, pulling him by it. I am surprised, and relieved, that he follows instructions, keeps his mouth shut and says nothing.
Once upstairs, I walk over to the bed, climb up in the center of it, then tie a black silk scarf over my eyes. I snap my ass up and outward, arching my back. This is his cue. He already knows my pussy is wet, and what I expect. I wait for him as he rolls his condom over his deep, dark chocolate log. I silently pray he knows how to use it.
I pull open my ass, give him a peek at my glistening lips, and wet hole that awaits him. “Fuck me,” I whisper. “Feed my hungry pussy.”
“Oh, shit,” he says, forgetting the rules. “You a real live freak.” I want to put him out for fucking up my fantasy, but my pussy is eager to devour his cock. I clench my teeth. “You’re not supposed to open your mouth, just beat this pussy up.”
“Sorry,” he says, grabbing me by the hips. “But, goddamn…you’re something else.”
Before I can open my mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up, the head of his dick is knocking at the opening of my hole, preparing for entry. I brace myself as he pushes in. I moan. He pushes more in, then pulls it out to the tip, then back in again. I moan again. He does this three more times, teases my pussy and gets it begging for the dick, then plunges every last inch in and serves me the way I want it: fast, deep and furious.
“Uh…oh, yes…fuck this pussy…”
He grunts. “Ah, shit, you throwing that ass up on this dick.”
“No talking,” I snap over my shoulder. “Only fucking.”
“Sorry,” he apologizes, slamming in and out of me. “Oh, shit… you got some good pussy. And you keep grabbing this dick with it. Fuck…uh…Damn…”
I suck my teeth, realizing that perhaps expecting him to keep quiet the whole time might have been asking a bit much since my love snatch has been known to bring a man to his knees. “Slap my ass,” I demand, winding and pumping my hips. “Instead of all this talking, you should be using your energy to put that dick to me. Is that all you got? I thought you could fuck,” I taunt, squeezing his dick with my muscles. He grunts. His sweat drips onto my back. “I can hear you, but my pussy can’t feel you. Where’s the dick at?” He picks up speed. His hips crash into my ass, causing me to jerk forward. Yeah, he’s banging up against my walls, filling me with deep, urgent thrusts. My sweet cat cries out in unadulterated pleasure. “Yeah, there you go…yeah, uh…mmmph…like that…beat that pussy up.”
With his dick still in me, and him fucking me doggie-style, I lift up on my knees, then get into the leap frog position, squatting like a frog. Without saying anything, Nelson places his hands up under my thighs for support, and continues slamming his dick in and out of me. I’m bouncing up and down on his dick, matching his thrusts.
“Fuck this pussy…Yeah, uh…let me wet that black dick up. You want me to come all over that dick?”
“Aaah, shit, yeah…oh, fuck…I’m getting ready to bust this nut.”
“Yeah, nigga, bust that nut up in this pussy. Give me that hot cream, nigga.”
“Aaah…aaah…uh…uh…here it comes…oh, shit…”
His body starts shaking as if he’d going into convulsions. I can feel his already fat dick swelling and twitching inside of me as I clamp down and around it to milk his nut out. I am cumming. He is cumming. We are both panting and grunting. And sweaty. And out of breath.
After Nelson nuts, his dick stays hard and he continues stroking my pussy until I am having another wave of orgasms. I moan. And grind my ass up on his groin. Ten minutes later, he is nutting again. And I am impressed. He continues a slow grind inside of me for several more minutes, then pulls his dick out and removes the condom, tossing it on the bed beside me as he had been instructed on the phone. I feel its wetness against my arm and smile, removing my blindfold. I get up off the bed.
“Thanks for the dick,” I say, glancing down at his shiny pole, slick from his juices. The cum-gulping, fuck-suck freak in me wants to drop down low and slurp up his cock cream, but I don’t.
“You got a towel, or something I can wipe myself with?” he asks, holding his dick up. His balls hang like two perfectly round chocolate eggs, and my mouth waters for a taste. Before I know it, I am up on him, then down on my knees with his sticky balls in my mouth, sucking them clean. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “Damn you a freak…” I grab his dick from out of his hand and stroke it while ball-gargling him. After a few more minutes of sucking his balls, I get up and walk into the bathroom to bring him a wet rag. “Damn, girl, you ’bout to make a nigga keep coming back.”
I smile. “That’s if I keep inviting you back,” I state. “You can’t seem to follow instructions so I don’t know if you deserve a second round of this grade-A pussy.”
He laughs, wiping his dick. “Oh, word. You funny as hell. How you expect me to be up in that pussy and its feeling good and not say shit? That’s crazy.”
“Well, if you want there to be a next time, then I suggest you try a little harder,” I say, taking the rag from him and tossing it into the sink. I glance at the digital clock. It’s already going on eleven o’clock. “Well, I’ve enjoyed your company, but it’s time to go, big daddy.
“I can dig it,” he states, following me down the stairs. I hand him his clothes. “Damn, you don’t waste no time putting a nigga out, huh?”
Let me make something perfectly clear before I put Nelson out. If I’m on the phone talking all dirty ’n shit to a man about how I want to get at his dick, and then I invite him over, trust me, it ain’t for coffee and conversation. So, if he’s sitting down, it better be to remove his damn shoes and socks. And if he is trying to hold a conversation, it better be about how good he’s going to ram his dick in me, and fuck the life out of me. Or else, within ten minutes of entering my home, I expect to hear his belt un-clicking, his zipper unzipping, and his pants dropping around his damn ankles. And if he doesn’t wear underwear, cool. But if he does, then I’m expecting to see his dick hanging out of the slit of his boxers and him stroking it with his hand. Otherwise, I’m looking at the clock, and showing his ass to the door. See ya!
Hell, if he’s looking for a chat ’n chew somewhere, then he should take his ass down to the nearest Borders Cafe. And that’s the same way I feel about a man who wants to sit around to get better acquainted after I’ve finished waxing his dick. No-strings sex means exactly what it is, sex without any damn attachments. So, don’t expect nothing, don’t look for nothing—’cause you ain’t getting nothing.
Oh, and another thing when it comes to no-strings sex, there really is no need for extended phone calls or endless emails unless we’re talking about fucking. I’m not interested in a bunch of idle conversation, or heavy breathing in my ear unless we’re having phone sex. Other than that, don’t call me to talk. Trust me. We have nothing to talk about. Period! So, no boo, you can’t get to know me outside of the bedroom. But what you can know is if I fuck you again, riding your cock will always be on my terms. So, again, we have absolutely nothing—and I do mean
I tilt my head. Then it dawns on me that he hasn’t been given the memo, so I decide to enlighten him. “I
