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“Here you go, beautiful,” he said, his voice full of fiery heat as he neared the tub.
Nairobia opened her eyes, and looked up at him. She saw the flute in his hand. Saw the fire in his eyes. Her mouth went eerily dry, but her pussy suddenly felt wetter. She sat up and took the flute from him. “Thanks, my love.”
She took a sip, then set it up on the ledge of the tub. She looked at him. “Are you not drinking?”
He grinned crookedly. “Nah, baby. Not tonight.” He thought it best that he didn’t. He didn’t want anything altering his judgment, or his resolve to not fuck. “Tonight, it’s all about you. Are you ready for your bath?”
Nairobia smiled at him. She hadn’t been asked that—“are you ready for your bath?”—since she was a young child. She leaned her head back against the pillow, and closed her eyes. And waited. There was her answer.
Smiling, Marcel rolled his pant legs up as high as they would go, then sat on the edge of the tub. He grabbed a loofah sponge and started with her legs, gently lifting one at a time. Then with infinite care he washed her feet, licking the soles of each foot, before sucking her toes into his mouth. He’d wanted to indulge his foot fetish with her for weeks now. Nairobia had pretty feet and toes. Suckable. Lickable. And he’d wanted them in his mouth.
She squirmed.
The sensation tickled, and aroused her all in one, sending quivers of pleasure dancing through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had her toes inside a man’s wet, warm mouth. And Marcel was doing such a magnificent job. He made love to each one, his hot tongue wetly lapping over every part of her foot, before licking over her ankles. His hands slid up her calves, along her thighs, then brushed lightly over her sex.
Nairobia let out a soft moan.
“You like that, baby?”
Her only response was another moan as his hands glided up the sides of her body. Nairobia felt herself melting under Marcel’s searing touch. Her eyes fluttered open and she found his gaze, hot. Their eyes stayed locked as his hands dropped down, delving into the water, gliding up along the sides of her body, then back down, grabbing her hips. He slid his hands over her breasts, his fingertips grazing over her tightened tips. They burned. They ached. He teased her there, caressing and stroking, his fingers magically dancing over every nerve ending.
She visibly swallowed, her breath hitching.
Then his thumbs flicked over her nipples, causing a stream of heat to ripple through her. She felt her body craving him, deep inside her. She wanted to scream out to him, “Fuck me now! Take my pussy and have your way with it!” But she dared not. She bit into her bottom lip instead, arching her body.
His hands sensually slid up and down each arm, then moved to her hands, massaging each finger, stroking between the base of her fingers and knuckles. Nairobia let out a sigh of unrelenting pleasure. She opened her eyes and watched as Marcel interlocked their fingers and used his thumbs to massage her palms up to the base of her fingers in slow circles.
He saw the flicker in her eyes—desire and heat and feral want—and smiled.
“You want me inside you, don’t you? Vous voulez me donner cette chatte douce, no?” You want to give me that sweet pussy.
Nairobia panted. She couldn’t stand it any longer—this, this, sweet torture. “Yesss,” she murmured. “Neem me, mijn liefde. Neuk me.” Take me, my love. Fuck me.
Satisfaction flowed through Marcel. He loved the way her body was responding to his touch. By the time he finished with her, she’d be sated, her body floating and still rippling from the aftereffects of her climax long after he was done with her.
He reached for a spray nozzle and wet her hair, then sensually massaged her scalp.
Drake’s “A Night Off” swept around the bathroom licking at Nairobia’s eardrums, causing her to slowly roll her hips. She moaned, her body seeking relief.
Every erotic touch pushed her closer to the edge. He still hadn’t touched her there—over her sex, and her cunt was clenching wildly.
“Let it go,” Marcel rasped. “Donne-moi. Donnez dedans, bébé.” Give it to me. Give into it, baby. “Stop fighting me, it. Surrender to it, bébé…”
By the time Jamie Foxx’s “Freakin’ Me” started playing, Nairobia felt Marcel everywhere. His hands melting into her flesh as he caressed her skin, her body. She hadn’t expected this. Her ability to think—long gone, she burned with desire. Felt her insides aching with a need so intense that her whole body shook.
Her body arched, and she cried out.
He’d given her an orgasm.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The air was electric. “Maybe” by Alina Baraz & Galimatias seeped through the speakers as bodies erotically bumped and grinded. Libidos were in overdrive. And Nairobia was in her glory as she sauntered around the third floor of her club in her signature attire—something slinky, something see-through, something that gave her easy access to her pussy and her plump nipples. As she walked through the club, women admired her. Men lustfully eyed her as they fucked their lovers. Nairobia found herself slowing her pace and sensually winding her hips taking in all the erotic sights.
To the left of her, a beefy Italian was down on his knees, his face pressed in between the ass cheeks of the wife of a NBA basketball player. He stroked his thick, yummy-looking sausage while he licked in between her slick folds.
Nairobia’s eyes stayed fixed on the width of his dick as it slid in and out of his fist. It was the thickest piece of meat she’d seen on a white man in a long time. And she enjoyed watching every moment of him pleasuring himself while his tongue—relentless against his lover’s cunt—licked his way to her core. The heat and seductiveness of his tongue strokes made his sex mate quake for more. And watching it unfold before her eyes made her mouth water for a taste of his tongue, his cock. Made her want to reach between her own thighs and pinch her clitoris.
The cocoa-brown basketball wife was bent over the back of one of the many plush leather sofas, her pussy stuffed with tongue, her mouth full with hard, black dick. Nairobia’s mouth watered as she watched spit splash out of Mrs. Basketball Wife’s mouth as she was being face-fucked. Her hunky lover’s dark-chocolate dick sliced into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. She gulped and gagged and
