Ain't Your Bitch (Interracial Urban Erotica)

by Asia Marquis

  I suck in air with a sharp gasp. “Andrew!” I cry, my body threatening to go limp. It feels so good, even through the pain.

  “Moan my name louder,” he demands. He bites my neck again as his hand squeezes my ass. Then he pulls his shirt apart, the last few buttons flying off. “Moan it!”

  “Andrew!” I gasp for breath. His hand presses against my mound, a place no one has ever touched other than myself. “Andrew, don't stop!”

  When his hand slips under my panties, a finger dips between my folds. He gently rubs my pussy, pushing the lips apart to slide his fingers up and down my slit before gently penetrating me with his fingertip. It doesn't go too deep.

  I'm excited and jittery about him masturbating me, pushing my panties aside and kissing me. I want his lips on me at all times, his fingers exploring every part of me.

  Pushing myself towards his hand, I shudder with the pleasure his finger gives me. His thumb rubs gently against my clitoris. It feels even better than when I touch myself there. Much better. It sends tingling waves through my whole body.

  I rest my head against his shoulder and let him hold me, cradle my body close to his as he manipulates my pleasure zones. He pulls my bra down, exposing one of my breasts. My nipple is hard, sticking out towards him and beckoning his mouth to engulf it. He sucks and kisses on my breast, savoring the taste of my skin on his tongue.

  Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of me and shoves me against the wall. Picking me up a little, he wraps one of my legs around his torso and unzips his pants.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “Andrew, I'm really not ready to get pregnant,” I whine, gripping his shirt. He pulls his cock out and presses it against my slit.

  “I'm going to tease you, mercilessly, until you beg me to cum in you. I'm going to bring you close to orgasm over and over again. I'll leave you a whimpering, moaning mess until all you can think about is my cum inside of you.” He starts to move his hot prick over my velvety labia. It's wet from my own juices.

  At first I'm sure I'll never want him to cum in me. I'm not on birth control and never have been, and I know I'm at my most fertile right now.

  But as his cock slides up and down my slit, my clit grows warmer and my desire grows deeper. Soon I'm panting and a strange need to be filled up comes over me.

  I want him to cum in me.

  “Say it,” he says. I try to hold back, because I know the consequences are huge. Andrew could drop me like any one night stand, and no one will ever believe it if he knocks me up.

  But he bites my neck again and I melt into him, and it's all over. “Fffffuck,” I cry. “Cum in me! Please! I'll do anything, I'll let you cum anywhere, just please fill me up!”

  “Beg me more,” he commands.

  “Andrew, I want... no, I need your seed inside of me! If you cum in me I'll almost definitely become pregnant and I want it! I want it so bad, so please! Pleeeeease!” I whine, writhing to try and coax him into entering me.

  “You're so wet,” he moans into my ear. I shiver with anticipation and frustration. He presses into me slowly, almost gently, before popping himself in fully and shoving his whole cock into me. Andrew gently pulls almost all the way out, before slamming himself back into me. And again, and again, he slowly fucks me. Each thrust, he picks up his speed.

  I moan and hold him closer. My arms wrap around his shoulders and my legs around his torso, and he fucks me hard. His thick prick keeps pumping in and out of me, his hands holding my hips so that he controls my movements as well as his.

  I can feel my pussy spasming as I orgasm, but he keeps fucking me as stars burst in front of my eyes. And then I feel my second orgasm build, and Andrew reaches in front of me and presses his hand against my clit.

  Andrew tenses up, and I know he'll be cumming soon. And against all rationality, against the alarm bells going off in my head, I hold him tighter. I hold him closer. He presses against me too, the heat of our bodies almost unbearable.

  He orgasms, and his hot spunk swarms my womb. I feel hot strips of cum hit my cervix. I pant and dig my fingernails into Andrew's shoulder, moaning like a mad woman.

  Andrew helps me to my feet, though my knees wobble beneath me. I fall to the floor.

  “Whoa! Hey!” He scoops me up into his arms and brings me to the bedroom, laying me down. He gets onto the bed with me, laying next to me. Stroking my hair, he smiles. A sense of warmth and safety washes over me and, in time, I drift off to sleep.

  The next morning, I open my eyes. Birds are chirping outside, and I think I hear people downstairs. I look over and see Andrew sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his lap or his hands.

  “Who is that downstairs?” I ask, my voice groggy. Andrew looks back at me and smiles, his skin shimmering in the sunlight leaking in.

  “My cooks. I have to eat well to keep up my muscle mass. Hey, I was wondering... do you feel any different?”

  I think for a moment. Resting a hand on my stomach, I look up at the ceiling. I feel a little sick, but I know it's too early to be sure. “I don't know.”

  He watches me, then nods. “Okay. Well, I have something for you.” He turns around, and he reveals he's been holding a small box.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “A promise. If you are pregnant, I will marry you. Maybe even if you aren't. I don't know if you felt the same chemistry I did, but... Well, I'm a bit of a romantic. I believe in love at first sight.”

  My eyes well up with tears. To think that just yesterday I was with that wretch of a man, Aaron, and now I'm in bed and possibly with child... a basketball star's child! It's overwhelming. It's exciting, too.

  “Would that be acceptable? Or do you want me to get you a ride home?”

  I reach my hand out and place it on his. He looks down at my hand and waits for my answer. He looks worried, but he doesn't have to be.“I think I want to stay,” I say.

  A month later, I get tested at the doctor. And I am pregnant! Andrew kept his word and slipped a gorgeous, huge diamond ring on my finger.

  I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that what Andrew and I have is real love. Maybe it started out at revenge and a one night stand, but what we have now? It's truly romantic, amazing, dizzying love.

  My White Bodyguard

  Interracial Urban Erotica

  Asia Marquis

  Noah settled into the seat and tried not to show the pleasure on his face. The client was between his legs, her mouth attached to his cock and bobbing up and down. He felt her lips on him, every little shift bringing him greater pleasure.

  He struggled to maintain his aloof, commanding expression. He put a hand on her head, gently. She would stop when she wanted to, and he knew it would be soon. Wasting his cum in her mouth would be an expensive mistake.

  She bobbed her head faster, and he thought that perhaps he would need to revise his opinion. And then, when he felt himself nearing the edge, ready to finish—it would mean double rates, after all—she stopped.

  Noah found himself revising his opinion of this woman again: she was devious, this one. He could see in the way that her lips curled up as she pulled away from his cock, that she knew exactly how close she’d gotten, and she enjoyed the frustration that she knew he was feeling even as he hid it from her.

  The client let her shirt, unbuttoned, fall from her shoulders. Her pants were practically a second skin, and she peeled them away revealing a thick ass and perfect legs. Sometimes, Noah thought, the job had it’s perks. Then she pulled her panties down, kicking them away, and she bent over. He could see the folds of her pussy, calling out to him.

  The arousal when you exchange essence like this was heady; Noah had long since given up lovemaking with civilians.

  He could feel the drug-like intoxication of the smell of sex and electrical popping of magic in the room, a haze that made everything feel a little better.

  “Now, get to work.”

  Noah’s emotions swirled in a mi
xture of aggravation and arousal. He was used to being treated as a toy, by women who hardly thought of him as human. In their mind, he was a tool. You don’t talk to your hamburgers when you’re hungry. Why would you talk to your companion when your magic is low?

  This was different, and it made the job that much more interesting. She was toying with him, goading him. He smiled and walked behind her, rubbed his manhood against her slit.

  “Work? Doing what? Is this right?”

  He pressed the head into her, feeling the hot moisture of her pussy. He could almost hear the sharp inhale when he pushed inside—just the tip. He could feel her pushing against him, but he pressed her down onto the bed harder, holding her still and steady. Noah held there for a moment. He could feel the warmth, could feel how tight and hot it was inside. It took every ounce of control he had not to push in deep and fuck the girl below him as hard as he could.

  The frustrated groan and squirming made it all worthwhile. Noah smiled as he pushed the rest of the way in, feeling the warmth of her pussy around him. He could feel the energy in the room now, against his skin. Electric and warm. He started fucking the girl beneath him, slow and measured strokes. She was in ecstatic near-agony now, he knew. Whatever he was feeling, he knew, were at least double for her. The transfer only goes one way, after all.

  As she writhed beneath him, Noah began to speed up his thrusting, as he came closer to his edge once more. He lost the focus he’d so carefully maintained, and let out a ragged breath as he started moving harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin popped through the room, and with one final thrust he pushed in as deeply as he could, holding tight to the woman beneath him. He could feel it draining out of him with each ropey strand of cum that shot out. The power, though he couldn’t use it himself.

  Noah became overwhelmed, momentarily, by a feeling of needing to lie down, of needing to rest a while while the room stopped spinning. Instead he walked back over to the chair and sat down, breathing a little ragged but under control. He leaned down and opened the mini-fridge, pulled out a can of soda. After all—he needed the sugar.

  Noah Walker sat behind his desk. There wasn’t a whole lot to do without any clients, in the post-paperwork lull. It wouldn’t be too long, of course. The job was never slow for long, but few repeat customers in his line of work. If you got too familiar, if you were too compatible, if a thousand things, then it all went haywire.

  Oh, the results were worth it, sure, if you could afford to cool a room by twenty degrees or cause a dozen frogs to appear in your desk drawer. But it was just too much for most folks. Noah was most folks, at least in this case.

  He looked at the door, with the great glass panel and the text on it, in the 40s style, reading “NOAH WALKER” and then “Bodyguard” below in smaller letters. It was a perfectly respectable business, for those who were in the know. The sort of thing a man could tell his mother about, if he had to. Preferably, he thought, not if he didn’t.

  And besides that, he was certified for protection. So if someone didn’t realize what his business really was, well, he could at least offer them that much.

  He was lost in a web of social media and lazy news-checking when she walked up. They always seemed to, so that even though he’d thought the glass panel would be real neat, and let him see when walk-ups came in, they always caught him off-guard. Perhaps, Noah thought, it would be smart to invest in a secretary. But then he decided against it. Touched girls would want a freebie every now and then.

  Oh sure, he imagined, it’s sex, too, but it’s just to recharge the batteries, nothing personal. And explaining to civilians would be a nightmare. ‘Bodyguard’ isn’t a synonym to ‘Escort’ in most minds. Then a long argument about professionalism ensues, sometimes a lawsuit, and it is just an utter mess.

  So that’s why there was no secretary when a woman came up and knocked on the door. Noah almost fell out of his chair, scrambling to open the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had a pang of anxiety. That was enough to put him on edge. It was always subtle when trouble walks through your door. Nobody ever sends you registered mail with the words ‘leave this one alone’ on it until it’s too late.

  The woman had her hair pulled tight against her head, very vintage. Noah was beginning to wonder if perhaps the World War Two fashions were coming back into fashion, but he didn’t bring it up. She was blond and more than pretty, though he almost held her height against her.

  “Can I help you?” He was nervous after that instinctive reaction, but he put on his business face and waited for another hint that the situation would be one to avoid. He opened the door a bit wider, stepping away from the door and letting her enter.

  “You are Mr. Walker, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s the name on the door.” The young woman didn’t laugh at the joke.

  “I’m in need of your… services.” Noah sat down and picked up a pen. He pulled the notebook he kept on his desk open, tapped it twice with the butt of the pen.

  “What do you mean, miss… ?”

  “Jones. Jacqui Jones.”

  “Pleased to meet you, miss Jones.” Noah leaned forward and offered his hand. She took the handshake, and that’s when he knew. There was no way that he was suitable for this woman. They were too close already. Probably, even having this conversation was making things worse by the moment.

  “I’ve become… concerned, Mr. Walker. You’ll understand, of course,” she touched the side of her nose. “We can’t ignore those sorts of concerns. I want to be accompanied by someone in your line of work, so that if a serious situation were to arise, that I wouldn’t be caught on empty. You understand, don’t you?”

  Noah didn’t write anything. It suddenly seemed as if the pen had been a waste of time. He frowned, unsure how to respond. Obviously if she was concerned about something serious, then turning her away would be difficult. She probably would want some sort of assurance that he could put her into contact with another escort, but he had enough experience to know that sometimes, it didn’t work that way.

  It was rare, certainly, but sometimes at the end of the rolodex there was a different reason why every one of them didn’t work and so please, could you do me a favor. Then they’d turn on their charms, bat their eyelashes, and maybe cry if they knew what was good for them. And at the end of it all, Noah knew, he wouldn’t say no, after all that work. It was easier, in the end, to rip it off like a band-aid.

  “I’m sorry, miss Jones, but I can’t help you.”

  “I’m… Sorry? What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the horror stories about what happens if compatibility is too high?”

  Jacqui bushed, looking at something that seemed suddenly very interesting in her lap. Noah’s gaze didn’t waver, a tired-but-steady look he had perfected so that he could look incredibly weary moments after waking and maintain it for the remainder of the day seemingly quite without effort.

  “And you think—” she didn’t look up. She was downright Victorian, for someone who had come in for full service, to be embarrassed by the notion of compatibility with a man she didn’t know. “You think that we—”

  “I know it, ma’am. I’m sure you can get some recommendations for another bodyguard, and if you can’t then I can give you a few business cards but that’s all I can do. I’m sorry for the trouble, honestly I am, but this is as much for your safety as it is for mine.”

  Jacqui squirmed in her seat. He could see the nerves, anxiety that had eaten away at her for days. It was sad, really. He felt bad, though inside him a voice whispered that there was nothing that he could have done to prevent her situation, and he knew the voice was not wrong. Noah opened the drawer, pulled out three small pieces of card stock, and slid them across the table.

  “Here,” he said softly, trying and failing to sound comforting. “I personally know these three, they all run a very professional operation. You won’t go wrong with them.”

  He stood up, walking around behind her
. He grabbed a coat, sliding it on while she sat in the chair looking at her hands. It was truly unusual that a woman would have such trouble with the idea. No longer was this a girl who read into things too deeply; he knew that there was something deeper. She wasn’t just a little bit scared, she was terrified out of her wits. When she said she was ‘concerned,’ that wasn’t even the half of it.

  Noah’s shoulders slumped a little bit, but he managed to hang on to at least a shred of his self-control.

  “Come on, miss Jones.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but he knew she would hear. “I’ll make sure you get to your car safely.”

  She didn’t stand up, not right away. Noah waited silently, knowing that she would come in her time. Even if she didn’t get what she said she needed, she would get it sooner or later. The only option she didn’t have was waiting in his office until he gave up. That wasn’t going to happen, and both of them knew it.

  When Jacqui stood, it was slowly. She drifted almost mindlessly across the room, a shell of a woman whose courage had broken but whose body continued. Then, step-by-step, he saw her bring herself back under control.

  By the time the door closed was open and she had stepped into the hall it was as if he had imagined the entire thing. She had the same serious, sour expression that she’d worn when she stood outside his door.

  She was an attractive woman, he could tell. It would be very easy to get the gumption to spend the time with her; it wasn’t rare that he enjoyed his job, but he knew that this time would be uniquely special.

  It was disappointing that his professional ethics called for him to refuse her. His cock stirred at the very notion of seeing Jacqui Jones beneath him.

  But he, like her, had an image to maintain, and a role to play. He walked a few steps ahead of her, not looking back, but taking solace in the sound of her heels on the hard floor behind him.