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“MarSell, my lieveling. I admit. You make me want to ease out of my panties—wait. I’m not wearing any…”
Marcel pushed out a breath. “Damn. What else is new? When do you ever wear them shits? Let me cover that pretty pussy with my mouth. We can sixty-nine. I don’t have to put this dick in you. Not tonight.”
Nairobia swallowed. She was tempted. Oh, so, so very tempted. His touch was intoxicating. His thick cock was…mmm…it was delish. But she would not allow herself to be lured into Marcel’s burning want. She knew he’d worship her pussy, lave it and love it all night long, fucking her on her back, on her side, on her knees, upside down. He’d give it to her just the way she liked. Yes, God. He’d give her orgasm after orgasm after orgasm with his hands, mouth and tongue, and with his big, juicy dick.
He’d indulge her every whim.
Melting and mewling, Nairobia knew her body would respond to him in every way imaginable. There was no denying it. She adulated Marcel’s sexual freedom. She adored his freakiness. They’d own each other’s bodies until the sun rose. Then after they’d worn each other out with kink and sex, they’d return to their corners of the world until his loins longed for her warmth again.
So what was the dilemma then?
The problem was, goddamn it…she’d never sexed him without his lovely wife. And, quite frankly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be bedded down, fucked into a mattress, by Marcel without her.
Marika.
Sex with the two of them had always been full of heat and passion. She just couldn’t fathom it being the same without her. Besides, she had to be in the mood for his ginormous cock. She loved big dick, but colossal cock wasn’t made for everyday fucking. No, no, no. It was a nice treat on those days/nights she wanted to feel the stretch and burn of her cunt as each inch delved inside her.
Tonight she was hungry for nothing more than ten inches.
“So what’s good?” Marcel said, slicing into her thoughts again. “Papa peut obtenir le qui chatte douce, bébé?” Can Daddy get that sweet pussy, baby?
Oh yeah. He wanted her. She had him practically begging. She wanted him, too, but on her terms, and on her time. She’d fuck him when she was good and ready to melt her pussy over the length of him. Not when he called on her.
True they had history, a scrumptiously rich one. And she loved the feel of him fucking into the folds of her natte, sappige kut. But her wet, juicy pussy wasn’t his to have on-call. No, no, no. She wasn’t his fuck-buddy. They weren’t friends with benefits.
Still…
She was in heat.
She snapped open her bejeweled fan and fanned it over her pussy. Marcel was heating her. She moaned, and closed her eyes. “Mmm.Zijn stem maakt mijn kut nat.” There was no denying it. His voice made her pussy wet. Soaking wet. But so what? So did several other men in her life.
Marcel grinned. “So we fucking, baby?”
“Mijn liefde,” Nairobia said softly. “You know I adore you, my love. And your big black cock, but…”
“No ‘buts,’ Nairobia. This dick misses you. Let me show you how much. Tonight. I want you to sit on my face while I lick that sweet pussy, baby.”
Marcel’s dick was about to bust out of his black boxer shorts. He would have pulled it out and stroked it while he listened to her breathe softly into his ear over the phone, but he wasn’t in the mood for stroking his own dick—not tonight. Tonight he wanted some pussy. And he was tired of sucking his own dick, something he’d been doing—from time to time—since he was thirteen. A skill he’d haphazardly learned during one of his many jack-off bathroom sessions. He’d leaned in to spit on the head of his dick and realized he was flexible enough—and his cock was long enough—for him to lick it. So he did. And liked it. Licking his own dick eventually evolved into him sucking the head into his horny, wet mouth.
And he liked it.
His wife had loved that about him, being a self-sucker. She’d always said it turned her on. Made her pussy wetter every time he’d give her a show.
Nairobia closed her eyes and—as if she’d read Marcel’s own lusty thoughts—imagined him bowing at the crown of his cock, worshipping it with his tongue, pumping it into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, taking his long cock all the way to the back of his tonsils, sucking himself to the edge of bliss.
She felt her pussy heat as she relished in the memory of watching Marcel suck his own dick. She’d thought the act erotic. Seeing a masculine, rugged, sexy man like Marcel with his cock in his mouth. She wasn’t sure how’d she’d personally feel about being exclusive with any man who enjoyed sucking his own dick. But the act had been spectacular to watch as he watched her make sweet love to his wife with a pink strap-on from her Nasty toy collection.
“Look, baby,” Marcel said, deciding he’d had enough idle back and forth. He wasn’t for a lot of chitchat when it came to wanting to get his dick wet. He wanted to fuck her senseless, but—
“Come lécher mon minou doux,” she murmured seductively into the phone, her voice sweet and husky.
True she didn’t want him fucking her. But it was a woman’s prerogative to change her mind as often as she wanted. And Nairobia had quickly changed hers; just like that. Marcel desired her. So why should she not allow him to pleasure her? Why should she deny herself his touch? His lips? His tongue?
He could massage her walls with his long, thick fingers. Caress her clit with his wet tongue. But he could not have her kut stretched over his cock…not tonight.
But he could come lick her sweet cunt until the sun rose.
EIGHTEEN
