Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4

by Zane

  It hit me harder and sent a moan from my gut upward and out of my mouth. I moved my right hand down to my honey pot and began to rub on my clit. With my eyes closed and the sensations from both the vibrator and my clit being stimulated, I was only a few minutes away from exploding.

  I couldn’t help myself as I arched my back, rocked my hips back and forth, and then thrust myself into the vibrator. Moans began to escape me, and they turned into yelps and then screams of pleasure. My body jerked as I rode this wave, hoping I could get as high as the moon. My heart raced so fast and beat so loud, the pounding sounded like it was knocking on my window. I held the vibrator in place a few more moments to calm myself.

  Now, I thought, I should be able to go finish my presentation. Slowly, I opened my eyes and I was startled at what stood in front of me. “Oh, my God, what are you doing?”

  I was ashamed and quickly clamped my legs shut to cover myself. Terry, the security guard, was standing by my car door looking inside, staring at me with his mouth wide open. He immediately began to explain himself, “I am so sorry. I know that you always park up here so I came by to make sure your car hadn’t been broken into or anything.”

  He put his hands up to show his innocence. “I saw something move inside the car and thought it was weird so I came to check it out. Then I heard muffled sounds like someone was being hurt and I ran to the car. When I got here, I saw you. I swear that I knocked on the window to let you know I was here, but I guess you didn’t hear me and I am sorry. You’re beautiful, I couldn’t help myself; I had to watch.”

  My legs were shut, but the vibrator was still on and still inside me. I was too ashamed from getting caught to pull it out now, and with the exception of me clamping my legs together, I was frozen still. I looked into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth, and they told me that he was. I was about to say something when the vibrations from the vibrator started to hit my spot and got me started all over again.

  Fuck it, I thought. I motioned for Terry to open the door, and he did just as he was told. As much as I wanted Jarred to be the one in between my legs, it was time for him to learn a lesson and realize that two could play that game. I spread my legs so Terry could see all of my glory. Using only my pussy muscles, slowly I pushed the vibrator out, inch by inch. The vibrator fell to the seat and then made a thud as it hit the floor of the car.

  Not taking my eyes off Terry, I indicated that this was his pussy for the taking. Without having to be told, he immediately stuck his face between my legs. Now this was heaven; it had to be. Jarred’s dick game was on point, but Terry, hmm, his mouth was much better than Jarred’s.

  I wriggled beneath him as he sucked, licked, and bit gently on my nether region. I grabbed his head and tried to ram it inside me. I had no idea if he had a woman at home or not, so I tried not to leave any marks on him, but then thought, fuck it. These other bitches didn’t care if Jarred had a woman at home or not, so I stuck my nails deep into Terry’s back and bucked him like I was a bull trying to get a cowboy off my back.

  Terry was a pro at this shit, though; he was able to roll with the punches. Every time I moved, he was right there with me. He stuck his fingers inside me and I rode them until I couldn’t ride any longer. Finally, I exploded. And like a real man, not afraid of pussy juices, Terry licked and sucked up all of my cum. I shivered and shuddered until I was no longer light-headed. I wanted to see what Terry’s dick game was all about, but I remembered I had to head back into the office to get this presentation done.

  This whole time Terry hadn’t said a word, but once he was done, he smiled and said, “Thank you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, said a few words in his walkie-talkie, and then headed back to work. I was proud to see my juices on his face. He looked full and satisfied. I was as well. I got out of the backseat, grabbed some of my wet wipes, and went back into the building to clean myself up.

  I sat at my desk and struggled for a few more minutes, trying to regain my composure. After a few flashes of Terry’s face wet with my pussy juices left my thoughts, I was finally able to focus on my computer screen and when I looked up again, it was 5:19. A click here to save, another click there to print, and ta da, I was done!

  I walked proudly into Erica’s office, my whole attitude changed and, for the first time in months, I was smiling. I guess a good lunch break can do that to you. “Here you are, Erica. Everything’s done and I’ll be ready for the meeting in the morning.”

  I walked behind her desk, gave her a hug and a sisterly kiss good-bye, and I walked out of her office, proud that I had been able to pull myself together—with Terry’s help, of course. When I got back into my office, it was 5:30 exactly. I turned the lights off, locked my door, and headed toward the elevator.

  When I walked past the security station, I asked if Terry was still working. I needed to tell him thank you, but I wasn’t sure if I could let it happen again. Hell, well, maybe just maybe, I could give him one more round. You know, to find out what the dick was like. That would be my “Thank you. Now we are even, and I don’t owe you anything else” good-bye sex.

  This particular guard was new, and I didn’t know him as well as the others yet. His name tag told me his name was John. Even if I didn’t know it, I could guess that he was a newbie, because he was the only one that didn’t flirt with every woman in the building.

  “Hello, John, do you know if Terry is still working?”

  “Well actually, she had an emergency, and had to leave early. She should be back tomorrow, though. Should I leave her a message?” he answered.

  “No, thank you,” I said as I walked off to go home. Well, damn, I thought to myself as I took the long hike up the six flights of stairs, admittedly a little disappointed. I at least wanted to peek at him before I headed home. Oh well, I guess—Wait a minute . . . she???

  The Dinner Party

  Damian Lott

  PART I

  My day started off the same as usual so I had no reason to foresee anything out of the ordinary coming. I was up and dressed by eight a.m., boiling a pot of hot water, anticipating a dose of my morning java—a cup of Maxwell House with two tablespoons of sugar and a splash of low-fat milk. The sound of the Kenmore stainless steel toaster alerted me that my raisin bagels were toasted.

  Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I noticed a note on top of my morning paper. I recognized the handwriting immediately. It was the gorgeous print of my wife of two years, Sandra. She made it her business to leave the paper on the table every morning before heading off to work. I reached into the chest pocket of my light blue, button-down Polo shirt, extracting my reading glasses. As I placed them on my shaven face over my dark brown eyes, I blushed as I thought about how sexy she always says I look in them. Unfolding the letter, I began to read:

  Dear Brendan,

  I would like you to meet me at the home of a friend tonight at seven o’clock sharp. I have a great surprise for you. Listed at the bottom are the directions and address to the home. Please don’t call me trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m not going to answer my phone.

  Love, Sandra

  I glanced over the address and directions to the home. I sighed loudly and folded the paper, wondering why she had not bothered to bring this up last night, probably knowing that I would have declined. The last thing I wanted to do was have dinner with some colleagues of hers. I could think of a better way to spend a Friday night. Lately, we were having dinner with different people at least three nights a week. It was always the same thing over and over—unseasoned food and conversation about dull current events. Most of the time, I found myself agreeing to things I ordinarily would not.

  My wife works for a prominent law firm that specializes in criminal law in the city of Rochester, New York, a mid-sized city in the western part of the state. I hate to brag, but she is one of the best defense attorneys in the city and her main objective is to become partner by any means necessary. So, I often find myself supporting my lady even when I
don’t want to.

  I buttered my bagel and sipped my hot coffee. I still had about an hour before I was due in the classroom. I teach African-American history at my alma mater, the University of Rochester. I graduated, along with my wife, in the class of 1993. We dated all through college and grad school, deciding to get married after we established our careers, hoping to become successful and begin to raise a family. Your typical American dream, but so far we haven’t had any children.

  I finished eating and headed out to my car, a black, 7-series BMW that I had recently purchased. My daily newspaper almost slipped from under my arm as I unlocked the door and noticed what appeared to be a pair of women’s panties wrapped around the gearshift. I looked around to see if someone was playing a cruel prank on me and the culprit would appear, laughing, but no one appeared except for my neighbor’s dog barking through the white picket fence and wagging his tail briskly.

  I entered the comfort of the black vehicle, smelling the pungent odor of the beige leather upholstery. I threw my burgundy leather briefcase, along with my newspaper, on the passenger seat while studying the black lace panties wrapped around the gearshift. Beside the women’s undergarments, there was another folded note with my name on it.

  I unbuttoned the bottom button of my navy blue blazer, reached into my pocket, and grabbed my spectacles again. I picked up the letter and began to read:

  Dear Brendan,

  This is not your typical dinner party. So please don’t waste your time dreading this evening. I guarantee you will never say I’m not spontaneous or adventurous again in your life. The panties are just a sample.

  Love, Sandra

  I’m embarrassed to admit my dick grew a few inches rapidly. I grabbed the panties from the gearshift and stretched them apart to get a better look. There is something about women’s lingerie that turns me on. I mean turning me on with a capital T. I examined them with a keen eye. My dick was throbbing and screaming for an orgasm. All in a matter of minutes, I was contemplating masturbation, something I enjoy a little too much.

  I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, causing me to conceal the panties next to me. Turning around, I realized that it was just my neighbor to my right, carrying his trash to the front, so I picked the panties back up and continued to study them. They were silk and see-through, with lace running all around the outside of the fabric, and a black silk string was tied into a bow just above the crotch area. They were definitely an undergarment for an intimate setting. Bashfully, I put the crotch area to my nose and sniffed lightly, hoping to get a whiff of my lady’s sweetness. I am sprung and not afraid to admit it. Besides my porno-watching addiction and my desire to relieve myself, Sandra is my all and all.

  I snatched the panties away from my nose quickly. I knew that the scent did not belong to my wife. My big head came to life instantly, causing my little head to wonder if he should still remain erect. I was confused, and I knew I was not mistaken. My face had been in the place too much. I knew the fragrance of my wife’s pussy from a mile away. I had sniffed her panties a thousand times. I suddenly realized they were not even my wife’s size. These were another woman’s underwear and she smelled delectable.

  My mind was racing at a rapid pace. I was not sure how I was supposed to react. But, honestly, I was certainly aroused and craving to satisfy myself. My wife has caught me numerous times watching pornography and stroking my manhood. She believes that there is nothing wrong with satisfying yourself. Sandra is very open minded as well as free spirited. She just teases me a lot about all of the black women I seem to get off on. My wife is mulatto. She just seems to identify more with her white heritage.

  I started my car, placed the panties in the inside pocket of my blazer, and headed off to work. I was convinced at that moment that my wife was simply toying with me, based on a discussion we’d had earlier this week. She caught me masturbating to an adult film starring two women in a lesbian scene. I really enjoy girl-on-girl footage. It seems to excite me more than anything else. But anyway, she asked me if I had ever experienced a threesome. I smiled, knowing she already knew the answer to her own question. I still answered out of respect, even though I wanted to say, “I wish.” She then asked me, “Would you participate if given the chance?” I laughed, telling her yes if she was one of the women. She smiled and walked away, leaving me with my dick in my hand. I yelled after her, telling her she was not as spontaneous or adventurous as these porno stars and that was the reason why I loved her so much. Even though I was jacking off to them.

  So, I knew this had to be a prank my lady was pulling on me. Obviously, she had acquired some woman’s panties and sprayed a fragrance on them in an attempt to see how much she really meant to me. The games women play at times are hilarious. I knew that she was just trying to make me feel good about a boring dinner party this evening.

  PART II

  I arrived in front of a huge home located on the outskirts of the city, nestled in a cul-de-sac surrounded by a thick wooded area—a brick colonial with a two-car garage and a well-kept landscape. It looked extremely expensive.

  I noticed my wife’s gray Lexus parked beside a candy apple red Jaguar with custom plates that read Ms. Jones. I knew I had the right home.

  My day had been long and exhausting to a certain degree. It had taken all of my strength to not give my wife a call. I really was not up to your typical dinner party. But I was definitely famished and looking forward to eating. Hopefully, there was something that I could identify with on the dinner menu.

  I exited my vehicle and walked toward the home, admiring the beauty of the numerous colors of lilies and daffodils on display. Reaching the heavy varnished oak door, I looked for the doorbell. To my surprise, there was another note taped just above the doorbell. I thought to myself, What the fuck is going on? Extracting my glasses from my shirt pocket, I began to read a list of directions, the first one telling me to come inside, the door was unlocked. I twisted the knob and stepped in cautiously. At this moment, I had no idea what was going on.

  I walked into a dramatic, two-story foyer with two staircases opposite each other and a massive chandelier suspended from a cathedral-type ceiling. As I stood on the immaculate hardwood floors, I surveyed the opulence.

  The next set of instructions led me into a cherry wood kitchen with a huge island and granite countertops. I was told to loosen my tie and have a drink to unwind. Fortunately, there was a bottle of Rémy Martin on the table along with two glasses and a bucket of ice. This was certainly my drink—I loved to drink cognac and chase it down with ice water. So, I fixed my stiff drink and looked around in the stillness of the home. Within a matter of twenty minutes, I was buzzing. I guzzled another full glass and noticed soft music coming from a distance.

  The note directed me upstairs to what appeared to be the master bedroom. I walked inside to soft jazz and a hell of a layout. I’m talking about a bedroom fit for a king. The walls were painted eggshell white. The finish was extra smooth so I figured it to be the best money could buy. My burgundy loafers sank into the plush beige carpet as I eyed the cherry oak furnishings, including the king-size sleigh bed. To top it off, there was a flat screen television at least sixty-four to seventy-two inches wide against the wall in front of the bed, with an incredible entertainment system. I was apparently in the lap of luxury.

  Draped across the bed was a man’s black robe along with what appeared to be my personal initialed hygiene bag. I picked it up to verify the contents and confirmed that it was. Honestly, I felt a little better for some strange reason. It made me feel comfortable to know something belonged to me in this unfamiliar setting. All at once, I began to believe that this was a special rendezvous. Maybe some friend of my wife’s owned this place and she was trying to spice up our sex game a bit by adding a little suspense to things. Between her schedule and mine, our love life was not what it should have been. But when it was, it was always great.

  Adjacent to the bedroom was the master bathroom. The next set of in
structions instructed me to shower thoroughly and await my surprise from the comfort of the bed. I showered and baby-oiled my body, paying close attention to my chest and legs. I’m in great condition, even though I don’t work out as much as I used to. I rubbed my inner thighs and my private area, feeling a little stubble around my crotch. I shave my pubic hair all the time. It is something I don’t care for. My wife teases me all the time about my feminine hygiene ways. I wished I would have shaved.

  I stepped back into the bedroom, oiling my bald head and anticipating my surprise, wearing nothing except the robe that fit a little too loosely. As I took a seat on the bed, I noticed the television was on and the screen was blue. Then all of a sudden, it came to life and my wife was on the screen before me.

  Sandra spoke, “Hello, baby. I hope you’re comfortable and not irritated. I know you’re wondering what this is all about and soon you will see. I just ask that you guide me through this process and let me know how far you would like me to go.”

  I watched my wife speak to me through the television. I was captivated by her beauty. Her light skin glistened underneath lights illuminating the room. She sat on what appeared to be a nice sized bed with her legs crossed Indian style, wearing just a pink T-shirt. She grinned sheepishly as if she wasn’t sure of what was going on. Her shoulder-length black hair was pulled back, giving her a younger look. I was definitely turned on. I watched her slim face and hazel eyes as she explained to me that she could also see and hear me. I was astounded by what was going on.

  She asked, “Would you like for me to begin?”

  I nodded and answered yes. Watching as she reached behind her back and retrieved what appeared to be a vibrator in the shape of an erect penis, I smiled and licked my lips as she removed her T-shirt, revealing perfect-shaped breasts with deep purple nipples. She started the vibrator and ran it seductively over her chest as she parted her legs.