by Zane
What is a Strebor Quickiez? Years ago, I decided that I wanted to create a series of short, erotic books that would be designed to be read in the span of one day. Thus, the Strebor Quickiez collection was born. Whether a reader takes in the excitement on the way to and from work on public transportation, or during their lunch break and before bedtime, they can get a “quick fix” in the form of a stimulating read.
Designed to be published in collections of three to six titles per season, Strebor Quickiez will be enticing to those who steer away from larger novels and those who do not have the time to commit to spend a longer span of time to take in a good read. The first set includes The Raw Essentials of Human Sexuality, One Taste and Head Bangers: An APF Sexcapade; the follow-up to my wilder successful novel The Sisters of APF: The Indoctrination of Soror Ride Dick. Rounding out the collection is a trilogy featuring three women who receive separate invitations to make their respective sexual fantasies come true: Obsessed, Auctioned and Disciplined.
It is my hope and desire that booksellers embrace Strebor Quickiez and promote them to their consumer base. I am convinced that these books can do a heavy volume in sales and, as always, I appreciate the support shown to all of my efforts throughout the eight years.
Blessings,
ALSO BY ZANE
The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth
Addicted
Shame On It All
The Heat Seekers
Nervous
Skyscraper
Gettin’ Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II
The Sisters of APF
Afterburn
Dear G-Spot
Blackgentlemen.com
Another Time, Another Place
Zane’s Sex Chronicles
Love is Never Painless
EDITED BY ZANE
Breaking the Cycle
Chocolate Flava
Succulent: The Eroticanoir.com Anthology
Caramel Flava
Honey Flava
Purple Panties
Missionary No More
Strebor Books
P.O. Box 6505
Largo, MD 20792
http://www.streborbooks.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2009 by Zane
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-0007-3
ISBN-10: 1-4391-0007-1
LCCN 2008938021
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DEDICATION
For Jewell
Women are the new men.
For far too long, we have allowed the male species to assume that they rule the world.
That they are somehow more essential to us breathing oxygen than vice versa.
But the fact of the matter is that pussy, not dick, controls everything under the sun.
Men will rob, steal, cheat, murder and even go to war over pussy.
The idiots still do not think we realize it.
The days of sisters taking any kind of bitchassness from men are over.
We are independent, successful, brilliant, and a thousand times more essential than them.
Fuck a man shortage.
Fuck bowing down and being submissive.
We will do what we want, when we want, and no one will tell us any different.
The sexual revolution is here to stay.
WOMEN ARE THE NEW MEN!
CONTENTS
ALPHA PHI FUCKEM—THE CONVENTION
SOROR RIDE ’EM HIGH AND SOROR LICK ’EM LOW
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALPHA PHI FUCKEM—THE CONVENTION
“Ooops, I’m sorry, Miss!” We both reached for the lettuce tongs on the supermarket salad-bar island at the same time. “Ladies first!”
“No, you go right ahead. I insist.” I was checking his ass out, and he was too damn fine.
He smiled at me, and I wanted to take a ride on his black pony. “You sure?”
“Yes, you were here first.”
He started getting his iceberg lettuce, and I kept getting my peep on. He was about six-one, 200 pounds of solid muscle with chocolaty smooth skin and was sporting the roundest, firmest butt I had ever seen.
“Can I ask you a question?” He looked at me, probably thinking I was going to ask him the time of day or something normal. He couldn’t have been further off base. The convention had snuck the hell up on me, and time was of the essence for me to find a playmate for the upcoming weekend. “Are you married?”
He blushed. “No, I’m not. You?”
“No.” We stood there smiling at each other, but there was no salad-fixing going on. “Engaged? Shacking up?”
“No. None of the above.”
It was time to go for it. Patricia already had her partner for the weekend, as did all the other sorors in the D.C. chapter. I had been so busy pulling long hours in the courtroom that I hadn’t had a chance to go dick hunting. “I see. I was just wondering what you’re doing this weekend.”
He started blushing even harder. I got the impression he was used to being the hunter and not the hunted. “I’m supposed to go over to one of my boys’ houses to watch the fight on pay-per-view, but that’s about it.”
“You can never tell with those fights. Sometimes they only last a couple of minutes.”
We were flirting, no damn doubt about it, but I didn’t want a man for a relationship. I had one of those already. However, taking him to the convention was out of the damn question. He knew my name and everything about me, and that’s against the rules. The sacred vows of Alpha Phi Fuckem must never be broken. Never!
“You’re so right about that! The last fight I saw only lasted a few seconds. If you blinked, you missed it.”
“Hmmm, I see. Well, the fight might only last a few seconds, but I can ride your dick all night long.”
He almost dropped the salad container he was holding onto the floor but caught it as it ricocheted off the edge of the counter. He cleared his throat and gave me the most perplexed look. “Is that right?”
“Damn skippy.” I didn’t have time for all the bullshit. Either he was going to be the one or he wasn’t, so I got straight to the point. “Listen up, boo. It’s like this.”
He was grinning like a wino that just found a bottle of unopened Mad Dog 20/20 in a garbage can. “Yes?”
“My sorors and I are having our national convention in Atlantic City this weekend, and I was wondering if you’re up for a fuckfest?”
“Excuse me?” He started choking. On what, I have no idea. “Did you say fuckfest?”
“Uh-huh. Fuckfest!”
He cleared his throat, wondering how he ended up having such a blessed day. “What sorority are you in? AKA? Delta? Sig—”
“Nope, none of that.” I was hoping he wouldn’t pass the hell out when I told him the truth. The brother’s nerves seemed a bit on edge, but I like them timid sometimes. “The name of my sorority is Alpha Phi Fuckem.”
That did his ass in. “Oh, come off it. This is a joke, right?”
“No, not at all.” He started looking around as if he thought I was working for Candid Camera and trying to play a trick on his ass. “I’m for real. I want you to accompany me to Atlantic City this weekend and knock some boots.”
“DAMN!” He had that look they all have—the one they get when they realize that we’re not bullshitting and just want some dick carte blanche without the attachments.
“Look, are you do
wn or what?”
“Hold up, baby. You never even told me your name. I’m—”
I put my finger to his lips. “You’re my cumdaddy, and you can just call me Soror Ride Dick.”
Well, by the time the last crouton hit the top of my blue cheese dressing, it was a done deal. I told my cumdaddy to meet me along with the rest of the crew behind Iverson Mall the next evening at 6 P.M. sharp to get on the bus for Atlantic City. The sorors and I opted not to fly or drive different cars and decided to charter a bus instead. We wanted to get a bit freaky on the way up there, and boy, did we!
The D.C. chapter now has thirty members instead of just twenty-four. It was a real tight squeeze on the bus with all the sorors and their playmates on board, but the more, the merrier. Some sorors sat on laps, with or without the man’s dick whipped out and inserted, and Soror Lick ’Em Low, a new inductee who has a thing for sucking on balls, got her freak on in the tiny lavatory of the bus.
The bus driver, Ralph, was the happiest man alive on the way up and almost wrecked, between trying to see what we were doing and glancing at the porno tapes we were playing on the tiny television screens throughout the bus. Soror Voyeur was responsible for providing the videos. She has quite the collection, so it was mad interesting.
We all got fucked up on the way up, and I literally got fucked too. My cumdaddy shed all his inhibitions, flipped my ass over one of the plush seats, and banged me slowly from behind while I sipped on a Bartles & Jaymes. Patricia’s playmate was a male stripper she picked up at some thug club. I could tell she was going to have problems with his ass all weekend. He was smoking so much weed that he had trouble keeping a hard-on while she was sucking his dick on the bus.
When we got to Atlantic City about 10 P.M., most of the other chapters had already arrived and settled in at the casino hotel. NYC, L.A., and Atlanta were strongly representing. Those three chapters seem to grow by leaps and bounds every year and have at least fifty members each. Detroit is up to about fifteen members now, and Chicago has about twenty. The Miami sorors had yet to arrive, but their plane was due in before midnight. They are about a dozen members strong.
The biggest surprise came out of left-fucking-field when we met the members of our new chapters from Nashville, Tennessee, and Atlantic City. The two chapters worked together to plan and host this year’s convention, and to say the new sorors are a bit out there is a serious understatement. They’re fucking wild, and you know that’s deep if I am saying it.
They had all the room keys already, so none of the men could get our real names from the registration desk. In fact, we were all registered under aliases anyway, so it wouldn’t have mattered much. I still had to admire the lengths of discretion the new sorors went to. What was even more appreciated were the toys they strategically placed in all the hotel rooms. Instead of breath mints on the pillows, there were dildos, edible panties, and a pair of shiny new handcuffs on each bed to enhance the weekend’s activities.
In the bathrooms, along with the shampoo, soap, and toothpaste provided by the hotel, were baskets full of scented body oils, liquid latex, butt plugs, and anal beads. They also had a bottle of champagne chillin’ in every soror’s room. It was the bomb, and I knew the weekend would be the shit.
The main activity of the night didn’t start until 1 A.M., so cumdaddy and I made good use of time by taking a hot shower and doing the flying 69 in the warm stream of water. He turned me upside down and ate out my pussy while I sucked his dick. The water hitting up against my clit and his tongue action made me cum at least three times before we hit the bed and destroyed all the effort the hotel maid had put into making it up neatly. For about an hour, I did what I do all too well and rode the hell out his dick.
We were exhausted but woke up a little when we took another quick shower to get dressed for casino night. At 1 A.M., the happenings began in a private casino of the hotel. As soon as everyone hit the door, all the clothes had to come off. We enjoyed a night of playing blackjack, poker, roulette, and craps in the nude. By prearrangement with the hotel, all the cocktail waitresses and dealers were nude too—just a bigass room full of butt-naked people, and it was all good.
Instead of cashing in chips for money, you had to cash in your chips for sexual favors from the person of your choice. That’s when the shit got real interesting, ’cause the sorority ended up having the biggest orgy in its history that night. People were fucking anywhere they could find a spot. I fucked three men at the same time on top of the green velvet cloth on a craps table while my cumdaddy fed his dick to two of the new sorors from the Nashville chapter. They were all on him, and I thought they were about to come to blows over it, because they were both being so damn greedy with the dick. Can’t say I blame them, though, ’cause the brotha did have some good-ass dick.
I enjoyed myself immensely. A dick in the hand, one in the mouth, and one in my pussy beats two in the bush any damn day. By the time 6 A.M. rolled around and the sunlight began to stream in through the skylights of the private casino, we were all ass-out, dicks and tits and ass everywhere.
We were served brunch in our respective hotel rooms about noon and then set out at 3 P.M. to head to a private spa. There, the hosting sorors had us all pampered with full-body massages, and different people enjoyed sexing each other down in various hot tubs, saunas, and massage rooms.
Cumdaddy and I had a great time making love on a massage table with the ceiling fan going full speed overhead. Both of our bodies were still silky smooth and tingling from the body masks we were given. I’m sure you can probably guess who was on top. They don’t call me Soror Ride Dick for nothing.
At 8 P.M. Saturday evening, we got down to business, and it was the only time any of us were fully clothed the whole weekend. We had our banquet in a ballroom at the hotel, all dressed in formal wear. The men all had on tuxedos, and the sorors were all decked out in the latest fashions. I wore a skintight black sleeveless gown with a split going all the way up the back and no panties. What can I say? I have this thing about walking around coochie-free, and so I did. In fact, my cumdaddy and I played a little game to see how tight my pussy muscles really were and how much control I have over them. He put a pair of Ben Wa balls in my pussy before we left the room and bet me I couldn’t walk around all night with no panties on and keep them from falling out.
The keynote speaker was from the old school of sorors. We call her Soror Love Lace because she wears something made of lace 90 percent of the time. She’s actually an investment banker, and she went over the investment strategies and agenda for the national chapter’s combined assets. The evening was informative and enlightening as we dined on lobsters, scalloped potatoes, and string beans almondine.
After the banquet was over, most of the sorors went clubbing at another hotel a little way down the boardwalk. Since I won the bet and kept the balls in place all night, I collected on it and made cumdaddy suck on my pussy under the moonlight on the beach for a good hour before we joined the others.
We turned that mother-fucking club out too. They were expecting us to be stuck-up and snobbish because of the way we were dressed. Instead, we ended up scaring half of the sexually repressed customers away and putting on one hell of a show for the ones who stuck it out. The Nashville sorors got up on the stage and started freaking all over one another and ripping each other’s expensive gowns off while the rest of us cheered them on.
After they were all in their birthday suits, they had a dance competition and a sexy body contest. The winner was awarded a twelve-inch dildo in a black velvet box, and the runner-up received a gold-plated vibrator with an anal sleeve. The sorors from Nashville are my type of peeps. I was digging it.
We finished the evening off by having a Soul Train line in the nude. There were mad dicks doing the Bankhead Bounce coming down the aisle, and I was admiring every one of them. We had a beautiful dick contest, and I was proud when my cumdaddy took the honors and received a golden dick trophy. I bet he’s still showing that shit off to his
friends now.
We all went back to our rooms about 2 A.M. and did whatever was clever. I spent the last few hours with my cumdaddy, getting to know him better in three ways: mentally, physically, and orally. It’s a damn shame we can never keep any of the bomb-ass dick we run across. Sometimes I wish the rules were different, but a vow is a vow is a vow, and I will never break it.
The majority of us were so fucked out that we slept most of the way home on the bus. When we got back to Iverson Mall, I almost got emotional when it was time to say goodbye. Patricia had to practically drag my ass to the car. I maintained my composure in the end, waved farewell to cumdaddy, and went home to my man. When he asked me how the antitrust law seminar in Richmond, Virginia, went that weekend, I simply replied, “Awesome!” It damn sure was. Soror Ride Dick, over and out!
SOROR RIDE ’EM HIGH AND SOROR LICK ’EM LOW
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Bethune Hall
Crockett University
Washington, DC
FAITH
“Ladies, you are looking too hot for words!” Raheem yelled at us as we started pulling all of our shit out of our Hummer H3.
Big vehicle or not, we had a lot of crap, mostly because Hope did not believe in leaving a single outfit in her closet back at home. The drive from Atlanta had been a scorcher. Gas was higher than caviar and there was no way we were going to run the air conditioner. Thus, the ten-hour drive had found us bickering with each other and pondering whether to open cans of whup ass on some of the other drivers on the road. I reminded Hope about this Lifetime movie where these two Canadian women got involved in a road rage incident after one made the other miss an exit in rush-hour traffic. One of them ended up shot to death, leaving behind a disabled son, and the other ended up missing a leg and possibly going to prison, leaving her yet unborn child and other kids to be raised by their father. After we remembered that nonsense, we calmed down but we were still going at each other.
