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I suck his dick clean, swallow his load, then walk him to the door, stepping behind it to hide my nakedness as I open it. I tell him goodnight. And this time, when he leans into kiss me, I let him. Then I whisper my number in his ear.
He smiles. “So you ready to finally let me snatch you up?”
I grin, eyeing him sexily. “I’ve been ready,” I tease, rubbing his dick over his jeans one last time. I don’t even know this nigga’s name. But what I do know is tonight’s rendezvous will be my dirty little secret. And I will fuck him again.
Paris
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
I’m in my hotel room, naked and sprawled out in the middle of the queen-size bed. I close my eyes, cross my arms and begin caressing my breasts, my left hand cupping the right tit, my right hand stroking the left. My nipples, stiff corks of chocolate, are extremely sensitive. I twist and knead them between my soft fingers. I let out a moan, eager to feel my swelling orgasm erupt and spurt out of my pussy.
I sit up and remove the towel from around my head, then grab one of the hotel’s pillows and roll it in half, wrapping the towel around it. I straddle the pillow, pressing my hips into it, slowly grinding. I close my eyes, tighter. Think, imagine, conjure up a scenario that will bring me to the edge.
Behind my eyelids, there’s a tall, dark-skinned man, stroking his dick into a long, thick erection. We’re in an abandoned building. And there’s a dozen or so other men standing in the room watching as well. Homeless, naked, and horny, they pull out their cocks and begin jerking off, too. I keep my eyes locked on the exotic-looking warrior with the rippled abs, muscular track legs and chiseled arms. The slit of his dick oozes precum. I’m licking my lips. He’s licking his.
I grind onto the pillow, ride it, pressing my clit deep into my towel-wrapped lover. An inanimate object, along with my overactive imagination, will seduce me into a delicious orgasm. I hump the pillow with slow, rhythmic thrusts at first, then rock my hips faster against the damp towel. My pussy’s overheating and leaking sticky juices. I reach down and pinch my clit, causing bolts of electricity to shoot through my body.
“Uhhh…oooh…you wanna fuck this hot, horny cunt?” I ask my naked admirer in a strained whisper. “You want this to be your cock I’m riding, instead of this pillow?”
My chocolate Adonis grins and grunts. He does not speak; just stares and strokes. It is the onlookers who sneer and speak lewdly at me. “Show us your cunt, bitch?”
“Pull open your ass. Let me fuck you in that slutty ass of yours?”
“Let me shoot this nut down in your throat, bitch.”
Their harsh words cause my muscles to contract as I slide my slippery cunt down over the pillow. I’m making deep grunts, followed by groans.
“Yeah, you pretty bitch, let me split your pussy open with this big-ass dick,” I hear in back of me. But I don’t turn to look. I keep my eyes glued to the man in front of me. He is licking his lips, dipping at the knees, beating his dick in fierce, fiery strokes. Then in synchronized motion, they begin to move in toward me, encircling me. Their dicks, engorged and dripping with lust, are aimed at me. I can now smell a musky odor wafting through the air. My nipples are as hard as boulders. I can feel myself on the verge of an orgasm, and I can tell by the lusty glazes in their eyes, that they are, too. I hump, and grind, and buck my hips onto the pillow as they rapidly jerk their cocks. We’re all grunting and moaning and panting with desperate anticipation for a sweet release.
And as if on cue, they aim their cocks directly at me and shoot hot wads of cum all over me—my back, my ass, my hips, the back of my head, my face; cum sticks to me, and dangles from my chin and strands of my hair.
Another wave of orgasms crash up against my inner walls, then rush out hard and rapid.
My body shudders.
I tighten my eyes closed.
I get up from off my knees, then walk toward the door, never looking back. When I get outside, it is dusk out. A few men from inside the apartment building have followed behind me. I can tell they want another round; maybe for now, perhaps for in the near future. They’re sniffing and howling behind me like rabid dogs in heat. I see a picnic table setup off to the side and slightly out of view from the building. A smirk forms my crusty lips as I get an idea, walking over to the table. I decide to drop my jeans, then my G-string. I bend over the edge of the table, flashing them my round, bubble-ass. I wait for what seems like hours until someone finally comes over to me. It takes almost forty-three seconds before I feel someone finally standing behind me, reaching for my ass. I crane my neck. Behind me is a thick, chocolate, crosseyed nigga with dreads. He has a short, hairy dick, but it’s extra fat. He’s touching the area around my hole with it, tickling my slit before plunging inside of me, stretching me. I gasp. Moan. Back up on him. Throw this ass up on his dick.
Pump my hips.
Milk his dick.
Release guttural sounds deep from the back of my throat.
When he’s done, seven other niggas take turns fucking me from the back, alternating from fucking my pussy to fucking my face. Some nut in my pussy, leaving it dripping and open. Others bust on my face adding to my already gooey mess. When they all have finished pumping and dumpin
g their heavy loads out, I stand up, then shake my bare ass toward my car as cum oozes out of my hole and slides down the inner part of my thighs.
“Whew,” I say as I collapse face-down on the bed, and wait for the room to stop spinning. My heart continues to pound as I attempt to catch my breath. I roll over on my side and reach for my ringing cell. It’s Persia. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:47 P.M. “Hey,” I say into the phone.
“Ooooh, why you sound all out of breath?”
“I was in here doing aerobics,” I tell her, touching my clit, then licking my fingers.
She laughs. “Unh-uh. Let me guess. Doing two-finger squats.”
I suck my teeth, laughing with her. “Whatever, hooker. How were things down at the boutique?”
