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But she’d happily spread her thighs and welcome his warm tongue inside her slit and his beautiful lips on her clit. She swallowed back her lusty thoughts and blinked him in, admiring the way his body moved. He moved his hips like a man who knew how to stroke a pussy.
“I’m here with my peoples,” he finally said, moving in close. “And you?”
“With you for now,” she said saucily.
He smiled. “Nice. I dig that.” He whispered in her ear. “Now what about later? You still tryna be with me then?”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” is all she said.
“Oh, aiight. It’s all love, baby. I can hold out until it’s a yes.”
Nairobia was pure temptation. And he’d been eyeing her fine ass the whole night, from the moment she’d stepped through the club’s door. In fact, he’d come to the event in hopes of seeing her. Yeah, he knew who she was. Who didn’t? She was sexy as fuck. A freak. And if he had his way, he’d have her in a dark corner somewhere with his hard-ass dick in her. But tonight he was being a gentleman, hard motherfucking dick and all.
With his body practically glued to hers, his straining erection throbbed in his pants, and Nairobia imagined there being a dampened spot of pre-cum in his underwear.
She draped her arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes, letting him know with her body that she knew exactly how aroused he was. He felt her skin heat against him, and groaned inwardly. He knew she was bad as fuck, but God, this was too good to be true. To have her in his arms, up close and personal, was more than a wet dream. It was a potential fuckfest, and a potential disaster in his underwear if she didn’t stop grinding her pussy up on his dick. He’d never come in his pants by simply dancing with someone. But, the way Nairobia’s sexual heat was warming his dick, tonight would be the night his cock creamed in his drawers.
He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, sucking in the smell of her as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. Usher’s “Superstar” started playing, and Nairobia spun out of his embrace, then raised her hands up over head, seductively dancing to the beat.
Mystery Man whispered into her ear over the music, “You know you got my dick hard, right?” He pressed his hips into her and ground himself on her ass as their hips moved in sync. Nothing more needed to be said. They danced as if they were the only two on the floor, oblivious to the clicking cameras.
Six songs later, Mystery Man’s cell phone buzzed in his suit jacket pocket. He pulled it out, and glanced at the screen, before finally letting Nairobia go. “Damn, Ma. Hate to cut this short, but I gotta roll.”
He tried to adjust himself, but the bulge in his designer pants was too thick to hide. Nairobia smiled to herself. She was tempted to rub her hand over the front of his zipper, but decided it would be in poor taste. So she murmured near his ear, “Mijn kut huilt te voelen van je dikke lul.” My cunt weeps to feel your fat dick.
And it did.
Being pressed into his hard body, his heat seeped through her. She could practically feel his heartbeat beating on her back. And the feel of his swollen cock brushing into her clit and up on her ass had awakened her sleeping cunt. Now it purred for a good stroking.
He grinned crookedly. “What was that sexy shit you just said to me, Ma?”
A coy smile drifted across her mouth. “If our paths cross again, my love, I’d rather show you than tell you.”
A glimmer of arousal lighted Mystery Man’s eyes as his hand slid to her lower back. “Oh, word? Then I think I’d better make sure we make it happen.”
“Perhaps you should,” Nairobia said sassily. “But be warned, my love. I will be like no other.”
Mystery Man smiled again. “Baby, I like the sound of that.”
He reached for her hand and took it in his strong grip, then attempted to lead her through the crowd back to where he’d found her. But horny men, hungry for Nairobia’s attention, surged around them, like vultures stalking road-kill, trying to feed.
They’d patiently waited, and now they wanted their turn with the beautiful vixen.
A fair-skinned man with hazel eyes grabbed her arm as she walked by holding Mystery Man’s hand. “Pleasure, baby. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”
Mystery Man frowned at the inebriated man, but Nairobia didn’t see the harm of taking a photo with him. He looked perfectly harmless enough, a bit drunk, but nothing to cause alarm.
“Nah, fam,” Mystery Man said, giving the guy a menacing glare. “You see she with me, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothin’, muhfucka. Fall back.”
Nairobia’s cunt clenched at his abruptness.
Next, a gorgeous, Latino-looking man grabbed Nairobia and kissed her on the cheek, then licked the side of her neck, like some slobbering Saint Bernard.
“Damn, Pleasure, baby,” another man said, grabbing her hand. “Loved you in Slut Season. Will there ever be a part two?”
