by H. A. Nicola
Now they were here in the capital, and she was going to see him on stage for the first time.
She prepared a meal for Sugar and Ocean and left them instructions to prepare for bed at 7:00 p.m. Sugar had already learned to use this scenario to her advantage.
“Can I have as much Oreo ice cream as I want if I eat all my dinner?” She gave her mum a thumbs up and squinted her eyes into a cheeky irresistible grin.
She insisted on accompanying her to the elevator where they had developed the habit of replicating scenes from classic movies, and the elevator scene from one of their favourite films Kramer Vs Kramer was more difficult than it looked.
Cayenne as Joanna Kramer would wipe away a tear and smooth down her hair to regain her composure following an emotional exchange with her ex-husband Ted regarding custody of their only son. As she entered the elevator on her way to explain to the waiting child that he would be staying in his father’s primary custody after all, following a harrowing court battle; and after adjusting her hair and coat, she looked up tentatively for reassurance.
“How do I look?” Cayenne was trying desperately to emulate Meryl Streep’s emotional portrayal.
Whichever of her children that happened to be standing on the opposite side of the elevator as it was about to close would do their best impression of Dustin Hoffman’s Ted Kramer as he smiled affectionately having decided to forgo any previous angst…
“Terrific.”…
“Terrific,” smiled Sugar. Looking more like Jackie Chan than Dustin Hoffman as she squinted her eyes again and threw her an impromptu thumbs up just as the doors glided to a close.
Chapter 22
“Just thinking, I want the first ass I ever try to be yours…”
"Mmmm, possible exciting analysis experiences ahead. The videos certainly make it look pleasurable.
Sorry for the typo – I meant anal, not analysis.
Mind you… Analysis of anal… That could work."
“I want to see your black ass.”
“You will see my black ass from every possible angle. Study it. Poke it. Prod it. Penetrate it. Lick it. Taste it. Squeeze it. Slap it. Cream it, massage it with intense scrutiny. You will be able to expound knowledgeably on the inner workings and mechanisms, not to mention delights of the black cunt. Consider how fortunate you are to be embarking on this Nubian adventure with such a tight, almost virginal vaginal maze. Its intricate nooks and crannies … Endless. Its mystery… intoxicating. The hidden sources of its lubricants… highly addictive.”
"Our thought paths must have crossed.
How lucky am I to have such an evilly delicious secret chocolate delight who wants me solely as a toy for her pleasure, which fully reconciles with my deep, dark corrupt fantasies."
His constant reiterations and insistence that her only requirement of him be as a secret toy was not lost on her. It was as though he was trying to ensure she didn’t get carried away and lose sight of the fact that clandestine adventures were all that were on offer.
“Deep dark fantasies? What thrilling promise.”
"Secret black pussy tasting, fucking, corruption. I am a white whore to the power of the black Queen’s intoxicating chocolate cinnamon caramel pussy juice mix. I want my white cock drenched in it.
The next time you stroke me, I want the lube on your hands to be your own dripping juices."
“Oh, dip your cock into the Black Sea… with its myth-like folklore and hidden depths. Wade in step by step and let the waves of the dark tide engulf you.”
"What do you think of these?
https:// www.redtube.com/234 (milfs)
https://www.redtube.com/4578 (oil)
https://www.redtube.com/5209 (black/white)"
“The black ‘n’ white one is hard to beat. Perfect start… cradling her in his arms while patting and fingering the black pussy. Coconut mix is my favourite.”
“Of course. What you up to?”
“Putting dinner on amongst other domestic humdrum chores.”
“Are you wearing panties?”
"No. I avoid such annoying restraints unless necessary.
My divine puss puss likes to feel the cool afternoon breeze."
“I like the image… domestic but also dirty and available.”
“Yes… bending over to reach the nooks and crannies… Exposing my black ass to the elements. Later, I’ll shower, caressing the pussy that nobody sees… putting on my mummy persona… little do they know… a black hungry minx is in their midst. I may have to dose myself with a feminine scent to disguise the intoxicating incense of my wreaking pussy.”
“I will be thinking about this when I go in for my afternoon of annoyance at 2:00.”
“Think about it you must…as I cruise through Canary Wharf…potent black pussy scent will weave amongst the unsuspecting crowd and waft through your open board-room window, like a heat-seeking missile… ignoring every other white cock under the table… until it finds yours. Keep a straight face, won’t you… whilst your cock detonates in your trousers.”
“The torment you indulge in… so bad, so deplorable… makes me even more desperate, hungry and hard for black juice.”
“The harvest is plentiful.”
“No one knows what you’ve turned me into.”
"I prefer to think that what you have become was already an innate part of you… waiting to be uncovered, lest you forget, it was I who was accosted in the wharf underbelly.
You merely had seeds desperately seeking the right climate in which to germinate. May the bulbs flourish and thrive until the autumn season heralds their demise."
"https//www.redtube.com/44637
I want to recreate this speed."
It’s clear he wanted her to observe his dedication to improving his technique.
“Yeeeees I wanna be fucked from every angle just like that. Look how fast he is fucking her. So fucking jealous.”
"Tea in Chanel?… no panties… torment me even worse than normal. Second thoughts…
Can we make it later this afternoon. It seems I have a moody boss, and a few things are kicking off."
Cayenne decided to make an extra effort for their routine tea date.
She selected a bodycon, lycra figure-clinging black number with strategic transparent panels just above the bust, giving a slight glimpse for titillation. She teamed this with her black ankle boots. The only undergarment was the lashings of cocoa butter causing her legs to glisten in the afternoon sun.
She arrived at Chanel Café first as usual. She ordered a pot of tea and two individual Victoria Sponge cakes and strolled toward the back of the establishment where there were more booths and seating areas overlooking the harbour.
She opted for a booth for more privacy.
Soon after, he arrived with his signature flustered demeanour. One hand stroking his hair, eyes wide with anticipation. Once he had spotted her, he strutted in her direction, stopping briefly to glance under the table. Her shiny legs remained close for the moment.
“Hi, gorgeous.” He kissed her cheeks and sat down opposite her. “You okay? Thanks for coming.”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You bought tea and cakes. Thank you so much.” He seemed genuinely thankful as though it was the kindest gesture he had seen in a while and he was unaccustomed to not having to pay. “Good to see you. Loving the dress. Are you going somewhere else, or do you always dress like that for afternoon tea?” He was amusing himself at her efforts.
“Are you wearing knickers?”
Cayenne took a bite of Victoria Sponge and licked the cream from her lips seductively whilst shaking her head in response.
The stranger looked visibly perturbed. Hot and bothered, the colour of his face deepening like a gradual tan.
She loved to watch him squirm and smiled, thoroughly enjoying the power it gave her.
He glanced furtively around before taking another sneaky peek under the table. This time she gladly obliged and stretched her legs asunder to the
opposing corners of the table, allowing him the optimum view of chocolate fancy.
She knew that he would gladly forsake the traditional Victoria Sponge that remained untouched on the table for a single lick of the exotic delicacy she offered given the chance.
His face fell in frustration. “This isn’t enough. I need to touch you.”
After they had finished their tea, they slipped out of the rear door and edged around the back of the building in front of the vacant space next door. They still had to be discreet as there were people milling about nearby and who knew what eyes were upon them from the countless vast erect buildings surrounding them.
He kissed her hungrily; and when he thought it safe, plunged his fingers into the silky outpouring between her legs. She could feel the arousal straining to unfold under his belt. Their breathing became heavy and laboured as they looked at each other longingly.
“What have you done to me?”
Cayenne wondered the same thing as she glanced back to watch him walk away after they parted. His hands were stuffed stiffly into his pockets, and his head hung down over drooping shoulders.
Chapter 23
The next few days went by without so much as a word from the stranger.
Cayenne found herself getting wound up almost to the point of resentment. Her mind began to wonder about his personal situation which he kept so closely guarded.
He had told her that he wasn’t married and had no children. So what was the situation? She pondered afresh.
She knew she had no right to ask. They had been clear about that. In fact, hadn’t she been the one to stipulate that they needn’t know everything there was to know about each other. She could hardly start lamenting the consequences now. She suspected he must have gone away for the weekend. This was the first weekend of many that she hadn’t heard anything from him. She didn’t at all like the withdrawal sensation that she was experiencing, which all but resembled a distinct bout of jealousy. She had always prided herself that she wasn’t the jealous type, so why then was she sitting up late at night constructing a horrendously mean email in retaliation.
Eventually, he responded.
“Hey! I’m sorry. I’m crazed not being able to message you all weekend.”
"I’ll bet you are absolutely tight, black juicy pussy starved and deprived of sufficient sensation. However bad you may be feeling, just consider that it could be worse. You could remain as UNFUCKED as the day you were picked up in the girth of the underbelly.
I’m almost tempted to crawl over to your place and share your Caucasian vaginal prolapse existence."
“It is clearly time to smarten my act up so that the black Queen increases her pity.”
She decided to give him some of his own treatment.
“Any communal areas where you live? I promise I will attempt to stretch my pussy out, making sure to irrevocably damage the elasticity and dry up the excess berry juice in order to provide familiarity. Is there any other way that I can help?” She knew she was being a complete bitch, sounding like a spoiled child.
“Fuck it, I’m going for a quick walk. You free?”
They must have looked like any other couple meandering around the quays and enjoying the afternoon sun.
“It’s so not enough. Not being able to touch you properly.”
They linked arms as South Quay came into view signalling imminent severance, knowing that their only solace was to continue in writing later.
"I agree. Less talking. More pussy titillation. I want to be waiting for you in my crotch-less outfit. You walk in…my legs are open wide…you bury your face deep into my pussy hole. Make me scream. I’ll be playing with myself as you walk in… watch for a while as your cock hardens. Watch me pleasure myself… until coconut juice is seeping onto the bed.
In the middle of my self-induced orgasm … I’ll call out… ‘suck it! you white fuck’.
That’s your cue to come to the table and feast. 69 me so I can suck on your dick while you lick my cunt and fondle my clit."
“Oh fuck, that’s much better. Not the demure housewife but the dirty, hot black goddess whom I hunger for.” He planted a hand on the nearest butt cheek, cupping and squeezing unashamedly. “We really didn’t get off enough at our meeting earlier, did we? Too nice, too polite, too innocent, too gentlemanly. Racially abuse and use me, my black Queen.”
"Yeah…fuck that… that puts us in the same humdrum category as everyone else.
Let’s fuck."
“Exactly, we’re better than that shit.”
“Let’s have some good fucking… make hay while it lasts. We’re not gonna remember fucking Victoria Sponge and cappuccinos. I want to remember… being bent over the balcony at night getting a good roasting while other boring hotel guests are at dinner. Fuck me on the hotel desk, fuck me in the wardrobe. Against the door. Pour cocktails over my pussy and lick them off. Place the cherries in my pussy and suck them out. I want to suck Ciroc off your dick hundreds of feet above London.” She let out a frustrated sigh.
“God, that sounds delightful.”
"I need my pussy to be sucked dry and then restocked. Practice your tongue action… make sure I feel thoroughly penetrated. Fucking give this pussy what it needs for fuck’s sake. Don’t even come up for air. I want to walk out feeling like you’ve left a gaping hole. Unable to walk straight in the aftermath of your territorial pillage. You’d better be fucking hungry. Eat this fucking pussy mutha fucka. I want to bend over. Black ass in the air. Get in there. I’m going to cock one leg up and press your head into my cunt. Oooh yeah. Lick that clit until I can’t take anymore. I’m going to lie back and luxuriate in every single stroke… don’t rush me to climax… I want to enjoy it. Lick me like I was a delicate chocolate ice cream. Unlike your average vanilla, think viennetta with its intricate sauce laced throughout. Think of nut sprinkles and speckles of cinnamon. Elevate your pussy palate for the rum-and-raisin delicacy of my vag.
Use your tongue to write on my pussy… engrave your name in calligraphy… ‘white slave was here’ on my clit.
I want a fucking long eating session… five courses… until cocoa juice explodes… then IT’S YOUR TURN.
Oh bugger, I’m fucking horny and frustrated now."
"You naughty girl… perhaps the tea visit was worth it considering the filth you’ve just released.
My cock needs a black sucking.
It needs to feel your hot mouth around it.
It needs your chocolate hands stroking it, massaging it, teasing it.
But what I really utterly hunger for right now is your black cunt.
I want to be on it until you cream.
I want to be immersed in your dripping juice.
I then want to smell your black chocolate ass.
I will then need to spank you for making me such a corrupt white whore toy."
"Oh good, I love a good spanking. The harder the better. This rump can take it.
Must I now wait for my white fuck? Bull shit… I should have availability for pussy licking whenever the need arises.
You’re cruising for a sacking… if I don’t get my fix."
"Slap your black cunt and show me.
Pretend your white fuck toy is watching but can’t touch."
"I’m a frustrated black fucking hungry bitch, and you want me to slap my pussy?
Not gonna cut it… I need a white tongue to feed off my cunt like a refugee. Got it?!
I’m on all fours. You get your head up my ass and tongue-fuck me like a rabbit on heat."
"That’s better—I need the fear of sacking from my black bitch mistress…
Teas are over… the next meeting is either your communal stairs if you can’t wait or a hotel suite."
"Deeper… I want your tongue deeper into the hidden crevices of my cunt. Uncover unexplored territory.
What is the point of you? … slave. What is the fucking point if my hunger levels (once manageable) are now nearing starvation mode."
“Appealing
to my underbelly ways…refugee exploitation… cheeky bitch.”
"Communal stairs would only be suitable for superficial below-par tonguing with some kind of temporary-resident street urchin.
I’m sure you can find other ethnic minions for that… your trail of the underbelly is a well worn path… I challenge you, revisit it… see what you can find.
Relinquish me to the Canary Wharf executives that place value on a tight black juicy pussy. Clearly, you do not."
"When you’re home alone, have me ’round like a whore. I will do whatever you demand… Taste, lick and fuck every hole… I will be completely your toy and only be desperate to please… alternatively, you will have to wait on my diary.
What afternoon next week?? I’m trawling options now whilst hard."
"Perhaps your boardroom colleagues would be only too pleased to get this precious blackberry juice behind closed penthouse doors.
I’m sure they would happily pour champagne on my crystal cunt and fuck me on Egyptian cotton sheets. It appears your underbelly DNA exposes you. I can picture it now… You with a short-term visa immigrant at the Holiday Inn… eating cheap scallops and imitation tapas. And the ignorant coon…stupidly grateful for a free meal and your half-baked signature fuck…
What sayest thou?
I should be subject to my slave’s diary? I think not."
"Getting really bad and nasty now, my black Queen, aren’t you? I like it.
We will do Champagne. I know your worth. I’m so grateful you pulled me up from the dirt.
You’re such a bad, bad dirty girl.
How did I get so lucky?"
"Yes. One must never forget that I rescued you from the wharf gutter.
I’m not sure you’re quite worthy of me.
Though I wonder whether our intentions are entirely savage… how can I take you to the dark side, forever leaving you yearning for something you will never have again.
