Shattering the Myth

by Zane

  I had managed to make it all the way through my high school and college years without a single boyfriend. But I was not a virgin by far. The weekends were HER time. They were the times that SHE came out into the light. SHE was my wild side, the one who craved to be fucked. The one who wanted to fuck just about any man because SHE felt that, simply put, a man was a man and a dick was a dick. The one that felt conversation was never needed, nor were games, because SHE knew within five minutes after SHE laid eyes on a man whether SHE wanted to fuck him or not.

  SHE first appeared back in my freshman year of college. At that time, I would spend lonely nights in my dorm room masturbating myself to sleep by playing with my nipples and rubbing a sheet or towel in between my legs. I imagined having wild, passionate sex with men that had no faces until I climaxed and the sheet or towel was soaking wet with my nectar.

  I have always been a pretty girl, above average even, I would say. It was never a question of whether I thought I looked good enough to get a man. I was just too nervous to talk to the men who pursued me. They came in all shapes and sizes and from all walks of life. Most were extremely nice and attractive. I wanted to wait and give my virginity to the man I would ultimately marry, but SHE could not wait.

  One cold winter night of my freshman year, I was studying in the university library when SHE saw him. He was average height, about five-nine, and not what one would call foine yet attractive. It was his eyes that made him desirable. His eyes seemed to have a passion burning inside of them. SHE sat there, at a table across the room from where he was standing at a bookcase flipping through some pages, and SHE could feel her panties becoming damp from the growing desire to feel him inside her. SHE crossed her legs and moved them back and forth, creating a light friction against her vagina and making her desire even more intense. SHE didn’t realize that SHE was sucking on the eraser of her pencil and staring at him until SHE felt him staring back. SHE moved her eyes up from where they had locked on the bulge of his pants to his face, and for what seemed like an endless moment, their eyes met. He broke the stare and smiled at her. It was then that SHE noticed he had the softest-looking lips. SHE yearned to draw the bottom one into her mouth and suck on it.

  SHE looked back down at the economics books SHE was studying for a brief moment, contemplating her next move. When SHE looked up, he was gone. SHE panicked, scanning the library quickly, until SHE noticed him getting in the elevator. He looked at her and smiled as the doors were closing. Something within her exploded, and SHE knew what had to be done. SHE jumped up from the table, leaving her books, coat, and purse and ran out the exit door, going down the steps two at a time, hoping to catch up to him before the elevator reached the ground floor.

  When SHE reached ground level, it was too late. The elevator was empty, and he was gone. SHE went out the front door of the library into the cold, brisk winter air, hoping to catch a glimpse of his red ski jacket, but saw nothing. As SHE turned around to go back into the library and retrieve her things, with disappointment in her heart, SHE looked up and he was standing there. In fact, SHE bumped right into his chest and could feel her heart pounding in her own as he looked deep into her eyes, up close and personal for the first time.

  He opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask her name, but SHE put her finger over his lips. For what reason SHE was unsure, but SHE knew that talking would only ruin it. Maybe SHE feared that I would rejoin the situation, bringing all my shattered nerves with me at the thought of a mere conversation with a man. Who knows?

  SHE smiled at him, took him by the hand, and pulled him back inside the library with her. SHE pushed the button for the elevator. When they got on, instead of pushing the button for the floor where her belongings were, SHE pressed the button for the basement, where all the stacks were located. SHE knew it would be basically deserted and dark down there. It was the perfect place for what SHE had in mind.

  When the elevator began to descend, SHE took his hand and placed it between her legs. SHE had on a black skirt with a white bodysuit underneath and silk panties. SHE could feel his fingers push the crotch of her bodysuit and panties aside and explore her wetness. He brought his face closer to hers and was about to explore her mouth with his tongue when they reached the basement level and the doors came open.

  Just as SHE imagined, the stacks were deserted. He left his backpack right beside the then closed elevator, picked her up with her legs straddled around his back, and carried her to the rear of the stacks, where a few scattered desks were located. He sat her down on top of one of them.

  Their clothes came off quickly, both of them ripping at the other’s until they were completely naked in the dimly lit room. SHE took one of her fingers and rubbed it against her clit, taking it and putting it into his mouth, letting him savor her juice off of it. SHE rubbed the finger against her clit again, this time sucking her own juice off her finger. Then they began to kiss, both savoring her sweetness at the same time.

  He pushed her back on the desk so that her head was hanging halfway over the rear and her nipples were protruding upward into the air. He suckled on them one at a time, not only taking her dark pearls into his mouth but licking the entire breast, starting at the base of each one with the tip of his tongue and making light, circular strokes until he reached the hardened prize. SHE was in ecstasy. So many nights had been spent alone rubbing her nipples between her fingers, and now a man was devouring them just like SHE had yearned for all that time. He took them both up, one in each hand, pushing them together and then sweeping both nipples into his mouth at the same time. Her moans became louder.

  Still palming her breasts, he made a trail with his tongue down to her belly button, pausing just long enough to take a quick dip into it before moving down to explore between her thighs. Before SHE could even prepare herself for what was about to come, he took her hardened clit into his mouth and began to let it vibrate on the tip of his tongue. SHE came for the first time in a matter of seconds; the intensity of having his mouth touch her there was too much to handle.

  He continued eating her pussy for the next fifteen minutes or so, and SHE came at least five or six more times before he had sated his hunger. Then he walked around to the other side of the desk, where her head was still hanging over the side, and SHE came face to face with his delicious-looking dick. SHE hesitated not for a second and took the head of it into her mouth with a heightened desire to know what he tasted like.

  And there, with her head upside down, SHE sucked a dick for the very first time. SHE held the base of it while he dick-fed her, pushing his manhood in and out of her mouth with increasing speed. SHE relaxed her throat so that he could eventually get it all in. SHE loved every minute of it. As his body began to tremble and his knees began to buckle, SHE was given the added treat of tasting semen and was immediately hooked for life on the scrumptious flavor. SHE lay there, savoring every single drop, and secretly hoping there would be more to come. Never had SHE tasted anything so yummy.

  He removed his dick from her throat, now a little sore and tender but never the worse for wear. After going back to the other side of the table, he pushed his dick deep inside her awaiting pussy. SHE could feel her hymen break and realized that virginity was now a thing of her past. He fucked her hard. Considering the way SHE had picked him up and led the way to the basement, he had no idea that this was her first time. He just thought SHE had a tight-ass pussy, and he was taken aback at how snugly it fit around his throbbing dick.

  He fucked her without mercy because he knew that SHE wanted it that way. SHE was paralyzed at first when he stuck it in, but gradually SHE grew in tune with his rhythm and began to grind her hips, fucking him back. SHE could feel his balls slamming up against her ass and was mesmerized by the sound of his dick invading her pussy, for it was a sound SHE had never heard before. SHE loved it.

  After a few more minutes, SHE felt him explode again, this time inside her pussy walls, his sweat trickling off his forehead onto her breasts. Her stomach muscle
s contracted as he removed his well-satisfied dick from her sweet pussy. He began to say something. SHE intervened, saying, “No, please don’t!”

  SHE got up from the desk, dressing quickly and looking at his dick with veins bulging from all directions. SHE knew that SHE had to get the hell out of there quickly, for SHE was halfway ashamed of what SHE had done. SHE was even more ashamed at how much SHE enjoyed it.

  SHE left him there, in the basement of the library, nude and wondering why the hell SHE demanded anonymity and silence, hoping that one day he would see her again. And one day he did, in the student union. SHE walked right past him and pretended SHE didn’t recognize him. He turned to go after her and beg her to at least tell him her name. With the same haste SHE had entered his life, SHE exited it. He looked for her, and SHE was gone.

  Gone like SHE was when all the other men looked for her. SHE always fucked them quickly, in silence, and then left them in awe. There was the man SHE saw in the grocery store line, waiting for him patiently in the parking lot and then fucking him right there in the backseat of his car. There was the gas station attendant SHE took into one of the garage bays and fucked while SHE was waiting for another guy outside to change her tire. There were the two guys SHE saw playing basketball one day at the local park that SHE tantalized into the woods and there, on a secluded picnic table, fucked them both. And, of course, there were all the men SHE had picked up at hotel bars, nightclubs, and virtually every place else over the past five years. A total number of which SHE has lost count of long ago.

  Her appetite is insatiable and undeniable. SHE can never get enough when SHE appears. As for me, I am still nervous, but hopefully one of these days, SHE and I will become one and settle down with one man who can satisfy both our needs. Until then, SHE will just continue to have her fun, ruling the weekends, and I will continue my boring-ass weekdays. One thing is for sure, though. When I masturbate now, I have multiple orgasms and enjoy my body in ways I never imagined before. Maybe SHE and I have already become one. Or have we?

  Side Note: The female character from this story is the main character from a novel I have in progress entitled Nervous. Nervous will be the second in a series of novels featuring a prominent African-American psychiatrist named Dr. Marcella Spencer. Dr. Spencer deals with an array of clients suffering from different forms of sexual problems. The first in the series is my novel Addicted, available from Pocket Books.

  Wrong Number

  “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number!” It started with a wrong number and ended with the fuck of a lifetime. It was about seven o’clock on a Wednesday night, hump day, and I was worn the hell out after a hard day at the office. My live-in boyfriend, Tony, wasn’t home yet. It was his night to play basketball with the boys at the gym. I was sitting there on the couch with my legs up, sipping on a glass of red wine and watching Judge Judy while I was waiting for my chicken breasts and baked potatoes to finish baking.

  At the time, Tony and I had been living together for a little over a year, and it was all good. Things were going well between us. The lovemaking was very satisfying. I don’t know why I did what I did, and I’m not trying to make excuses for it. All I can say is, I had fallen into kind of a rut. Let’s face it, shit happens!

  When the phone rang, I figured it must have been my mother or one of my girlfriends but had no idea, since the caller ID was in the bedroom. I picked it up and said, “Hello.” The man on the other end of the line said, “Hello, may I please speak to Stacey?” I told him, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number!”

  He then asked, “Is this 555-2269?” and I said, “No, this is 555-2268.” So he said, “Sorry, my mistake. Have a good evening!” and I replied, “You too. Peace!”

  Now, you would have thought that would be the end of it, but naw. About a half hour later, Judge Judy had gone off, and Real Life Stories of the Highway Patrol was on, where they show people getting their asses arrested and shit in real life. They have cameras all up in their faces. It’s mad funny to me for a person to not only get caught in the act, but cold busted on TV in front of millions of people as well. Anyway, I had just taken the chicken out of the oven and thrown a pouch of boil-in-the-bag rice into a pot on the stove when the phone rang.

  I assumed the same thing I did the first time, must be my mother or one of the girls. Wrong again, because he called my ass back. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I ended up flirting with him on the phone for over an hour. He had a deep, mesmerizing, sexy-ass voice, and frankly, the shit turned me on.

  Why I told him my name was Amber, I have no idea. Probably because it was the logical response to him telling me his name was Rob. He just made me feel so comfortable and at ease. There I was, kicking it with some stranger on the phone about everything from the latest Puff Daddy and the Family CD to our respective careers to my hair appointment the next day. He and I talked about the fact that there are so few black barbershops and hair salons in our predominately white New England town. I happened to mention that I used a stylist named LaLa at this salon called She Thang over on Twelfth Street.

  Even though the conversation was stimulating, I finally told him I had to go because it was getting late. He asked me could he call again sometime, and I said, “Absolutely hell fucking no! My boyfriend would kill me if nuccas started calling the house for me while he’s home!” He said he completely understood and that it was nice meeting me, even if it was only over the phone, and insisted on asking one question before we hung up. I asked what the question was, and he asked me to describe what I looked like.

  I told him that I was five-nine, 145 pounds, and light-skinned, with shoulder-length medium brown hair, and half Native American. He told me, “You sound delicious!” He volunteered his information before I could even ask and told me that he was six-one, 190 pounds, and dark-skinned with hazel eyes. I told him what was on my mind and replied, “You sound delicious too!” That was it except for the formal goodbyes.

  I made love to Tony that night and fell asleep in his arms fantasizing about a nucca named Rob who I knew by voice and description alone. I was so aroused that I couldn’t sleep. I woke Tony up in the middle of the night by sucking on his dick, and it was all good.

  The next day at work was a typical Thursday. I’m a human resource manager for a construction company. I left about an hour early, after changing into some casual clothes, so I could get to my 5 P.M. hair appointment on time. I beat the work traffic and got there ten minutes early. Of course, when I got there, LaLa had one client in her chair, one under the hot-ass hair dryer waiting for all that dayum gel to dry up in her finger waves, and another one sitting in the lounge area with a magazine, waiting to get shampooed. I was not fucking surprised, since hair stylists always overbook and shit to ensure they keep clocking dollars whether everyone shows up or not.

  I finally got my touch-up in about an hour later. I was sitting in the chair at LaLa’s station, waiting for her to blow-dry me when the phone rang at the salon. One of the other stylists, this big-ass girl named Shakia, told me that the phone was for me. I was dumbfounded, wondering who in the hell would be calling me at the hairdresser.

  I went to the telephone, and it was Rob. I was fucking shocked. He told me that since I said he could never call me at home again because of Tony, he knew calling me at the salon was the only chance he would ever have to speak with me again. He said that he was only about twenty minutes from there, and he couldn’t resist knowing I was going to be coming out looking good with my hair just done and wanted to drive over and meet me.

  I was so scared, thinking to myself, Is this man crazy? I was hoping his ass wasn’t crazy, but figured what the hell. I might as well take the chance, since I was in public. If I didn’t feel right, I would just leave his ass there.

  About thirty minutes later, LaLa was done with my hair, and he had not shown up, so I was contemplating leaving. I was sitting there flipping through some magazines when he came bouncing in the door, plopped down right beside me, and smiled
this big ole grin. I couldn’t help but do the same, because the man was too dayum fine.

  I was a nervous wreck because everyone was looking. I walked outside quickly, and we stood in front of the salon talking for a few. He asked me if I would like to go to a restaurant down the street called the Cuckoo’s Nest and I accepted. I was tripping hard because this was totally out of character for me. My ass walked down there with him anyway.

  We were seated at a table in the corner. I asked him to excuse me while I went to the ladies’ lounge to freshen up, but that was not the real reason I needed to leave the table for a few moments. I had to call Tony and make up an excuse for being out so late. I called him from the pay phone in the hallway leading to the rest rooms and explained how I had run into a girlfriend at the hair salon, decided to go out for a couple of drinks, and would be home about midnight.

  I came back to the table and became lost in Rob’s voice, eyes, and the whole package. Time seemed to fly by. It was 10 P.M. by the time we finished our meal and went through two bottles of nice Chablis. We left the restaurant and walked back to the pay parking lot where both our vehicles were located. I started up my Honda Accord and decided to sit in Rob’s Grand Cherokee while I was waiting for it to warm up. I assumed the night was ending there. I had to work in the morning and knew I was already in trouble, but somehow talking turned into kissing. We sat and kissed and hugged and kissed and talked and hugged some more.

  I told him I really had to get going. He leaned over for a final kiss and then whispered in my ear, “I don’t want you to leave tonight!” He laid this kiss on me that made me melt, so I turned off my car, got back in the truck, and asked, “Okay, so now what?”

  The parking lot attendant had been watching us from his booth a short distance away the whole time. The kissing and hugging went on for a good hour, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I knew about this really secluded lake about five minutes away. Off we went with a quickness.