The Pleasure Zone

by Cairo

  Marcel stirred, pulling her from her reverie. She rolled her eyes, her new thought on waking him, and putting him out. But he stirred again. Eyes still closed, he rolled over on his back, his arm swinging up over his face to shield his eyes from the morning rays as they slid through the slits of her vertical blinds. The sheet shifted, slightly, and Nairobia caught a glimpse of his rippling abs…and the beginnings of a delicious morning erection.

  What was a woman with virtue to do?

  Instinctively, Marcel’s dick spoke to her from beneath the sheet. And the answer became evidently clear. Take what was in her bed.

  Her mouth curved into a devilish grin, her sex clenching greedily, as she flipped the sheet off him, exposing the lower half of his nakedness.

  She took his dick in her hand, rubbing the shaft from base to tip, gripping him with both hands, stroking him to greater pleasure, before licking him, swirling her tongue over his slit, focusing her attention all on that one part of him until he grew harder and thicker and beside himself with heated desire.

  Several teasing licks of her tongue over the head of his dick morphed into sweltering tongue laps down the length of his cock, over and around his balls, then back up his shaft. Then back down again. She lapped at his balls, then sucked them lovingly into her mouth.

  Marcel groaned, then smiled. “Good morning, baby,” he muttered, his eyes slowly rolling to the back of his head. He hadn’t planned on staying the night, but now he was glad he had. It’d been so long, too long, since he’d been awakened to the erotic sounds of a wet mouth loving his cock.

  He needed this sensual moment badly.

  Tiny pinpricks of pleasure burst through Marcel’s body, spreading through his veins as Nairobia took him in her mouth and gave him what he so desperately needed, until he was a slave to her relentless sucking and the clawing need to explode.

  Blood rushed through him. He fought like hell not to erupt. But she was luring him to the edge with her slippery mouth, coaxing a nut—or two, or three—out of him.

  God, he missed having his dick in a mouth other than his own. She felt so fucking good. So wet. “Aaah, shit, yeah…oooh…” He lifted his hips into her mouth, slowly thrusting in her wet, juicy jaws. In. Out. In. Out.

  She fondled his balls.

  “Aaah, shit…aaah, shit, baby…ta bouche est si humide, si chaud…” Your mouth is so wet, so warm.

  She released him from her mouth long enough to speak. “You like, my darling, oui?” Before he could speak, she quickly lapped at the wet tip, then feverishly sucked him back into her mouth.

  Marcel groaned, his back arching in the wave of pleasure. “Aaah…shit…motherfuck, baby…mmm…I love your mouth.”

  No avoiding the truth now. Nairobia loved his big, long cock. Her pussy spasmed as she stroked him, coaxed him, and swallowed him down into the warmth of her throat. His heat and musky scent were maddening. She dug her nails into his hips, scraping flesh as she took him deep and massaged his testicles with tongue.

  He cried out, the sound both erotic and animalistic.

  His heart raced, and his fingers dug into the sheets. Unfuckingbelievable. She managed to get every inch of him down into her throat. His head spun as her throat constricted around the width of him, clutching him.

  He breathed through his nose, weaving his fingers into her hair, bucking.

  “Oh shit, oh shit…” The pressure built in him, and he lifted his hips up into her mouth. He gasped. Growled. Gritted his teeth. Then called out her name as he came hard, bursting flames of passion into her welcoming mouth, his semen sliding down into her neck like warm chocolate.

  Like the talented vixen she was, Nairobia swallowed every drop of him, sucking him until he went soft. His wet, sticky dick plopped out of her mouth, and she looked up and grinned seductively at him. She crawled up over him, kissing her way up to his parted lips.

  He groaned, and tasted himself on her tongue.

  Then pulled Nairobia into his arms, wrapping a leg over her. She blinked. What the hell was he doing? She tried to unwind herself from his deliciously warm, muscled body, but Marcel groaned in protest and tightened his arm around her.

  “No, my love,” she said, pushing up, trying to unwind herself. “I’ve entertained you long enough.”

  Eyes closed, Marcel grunted, and his huge hands ended up splayed across her ass.

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he whispered to her neck. “And neither are you.” He squeezed her ass. “Not until you give me some pussy.”

  Nairobia didn’t respond, because her clenching cunt would betray her every word.

  Bastard.

  TWENTY

  “Mmmm…ooh, ja, ja, ja,” Nairobia panted as Marcel used his fingers to open her to him. He pressed a kiss over her mound and then nuzzled deeper, inhaling her arousal, all that pink, feminine inner flesh for the taking, glazed with pleasure.

  Nairobia moaned again as Marcel used his tongue like a dick, licking her from the inside out, stroking her silky walls. “Come in my mouth, bèbè,” he said huskily, raising his head to look up at her. His eyes were dark. His gaze focused. “Donnez-moi ce lait sucré.”

  He wanted her to give him her sweet milk one more time before he stretched her sweet, tight pussy over his dick. He hadn’t forced himself on her the night before. Hadn’t pressured her to let him be deep inside her. She wanted his tongue lapping her cunt. And he’d respected her wishes. But today was a new day.

  He wanted inside her.

  And he planned on fucking her, making sweet love to her, all in the same measured strokes.

  Her wetness melting like honey on his tongue, Marcel sucked in Nairobia’s clit, and she dissolved into pooling heat, arching her back and mewling out. She pumped her hips against his mouth and clutched his shoulders, moaning.

  Nairobia was a dominant, powerful woman and Marcel loved seeing her lose herself to him. But she was nothing like Marika—not that he should be comparing the two. However, Marika had always given of herself willingly to him, submitted to her desires for him endlessly, whereas Nairobia was defiant. Brazen. And she refused to submit to any man.

  But Marcel would break her, if it was the last thing he did. He would teach her how to lose herself to him, his pleasure. He bit down into one nipple and pinched her clit, and Nairobia cried out, her warm juices sliding out of her body.

  But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her to beg.

  “Me dire que vous voulez que je vas te faire encule,” he whispered in her ear. (Tell me you want me to fuck you.) “Beg pour cette bite…” (for this dick).

  Nairobia would have laughed in his face if her cunt wasn’t clutching and she weren’t so caught up in sweet rapture. She begged no man for his cock. Not when she had an abundance of hard, willing dick at her disposal.

  She’d give into the lust. Give into the pleasure. But she’d give over nothing to a man. He’d be here all night—and the rest of the year, for that matter—if he longed for that.

  Marcel sucked her other nipple between his lips, scraped it with his teeth, then bit into it. She moaned as her breasts swelled. “Aaaaaah, yes…yesssss…”

  It killed him not to be inside her, but he knew what her body needed. He wanted to hear her say it. Wanted to hear her cry out for it. He pushed a thick finger inside her. Then two. Then three.

  She became unbelievably wet. And hot. Her heat burned into his hand, singed down his forearm, then surged over his stomach, before settling around his balls. His dick ached for her fire.

  “Tell me you want this dick, bèbè,” he murmured close to her ear.

  Nairobia shivered as he rubbed circles into her G-spot. Eyes rolling helplessly around in their orbs, she arched off the mattress, groaned out, and soaked the sheets. Marcel fucked her with his fingers in a pulsing rhythm that made the room spin. She found herself panting in time to his fingers, her body humming in pleasure. And, yet, she still snubbed him. Refused to call out his name. Refused to beg for him.

  His d
ick throbbed in frustration. He wanted to fuck her and fuck her now.

  But…

  He needed her to want it more.

  Nairobia closed her eyes, and felt her body stretching apart, her orgasm spreading through her like a wildfire. Her pussy juices splashed out as Marcel’s fingers fucked her hard and fast. Splish-splash, splish-splash, splish-splash…

  Wetly, her cunt clutched his fingers, then he turned his hand and pushed hard to the back wall of her pussy, and she screamed hard and loud, her climax coming from somewhere deep.

  Marcel wanted her to surrender to him. Just fucking beg him so he could feel her melting over his cock. Her defiance was unnerving. Her refusal was maddening. Fuck it. He needed to be inside her before his balls exploded. He reached for the condom he’d slid under his pillow the night before—just in case. He ripped open the gold foil and rolled the Magnum on in a matter of seconds, before grabbing her by the hips and dragging her over the sheets toward him. He covered her with his body, anchoring his arms on either side of her.

  Nairobia’s dark tresses fanned out over the silk sheets, and she looked like a goddess. Fucking beautiful. Marcel groaned, positioning himself at the mouth of her cunt. She toyed with her nipples, spreading open her thighs to him.

  “You want my kut?” She licked her lips. Closed her legs. Then opened them again. Teasing him. “Then take it.”

  Aroused, on fire, burning, a low growl sounded in Marcel’s throat. He couldn’t wait another second for her. He had to have her. Now.

  She’d won.

  It was his defeat.

  Marcel planted the palms of his hands on the inside of her thighs and pressed them apart. Then came the thick head of his cock, sliding over Nairobia’s swollen clit. She moaned, thrusting her hips up to him.

  In that moment, Marcel wished he had a smaller cock, one not as thick or as long—something like nine inches, maybe eight—so he could enter her in one smooth thrust. But his dick was too enormous for that. He wanted to make love to her, fuck her ever so sweetly. Not rip her insides out and kill her.

  Nairobia sucked in her breath and slowly released it in a long exhale.

  “You want this dick,” he rasped, sliding himself back and forth over her flesh. Nairobia moaned again, softly, the feverish ache in her pussy stinging sharply. “I want you to beg for this dick, baby,” he said in a strained voice. “But you’re too fucking stubborn…” He pressed the head of his dick into her wet opening and pushed in. “But it’s all love, baby. I’ma have you moaning and coming on this dick in a minute.”

  Marcel pushed forward; the plum-shaped head slipping past her tight folds. Nairobia whimpered. Slowly, he continued to work himself inside her, fucking her with the tip of his dick. He pulled back, his head dragging over throbbing flesh. Her pussy lips pulsed, her slit puckered, and pussy juice slid out.

  “Uhh…mmm…fuck my kut…”

  Marcel grinned. “That’s it, baby. Beg for this dick.”

  He slowly moved his hips, pushing in and out, pulling the head out, then easing it back in. He wanted to be in all the way to his balls. She had his body overheating. But he was determined to take his time, until he worked every last inch of him inside her, until he bottomed out in her.

  “Fuuuuck,” he growled at how tight she was. He grew slick with her wetness; slowly, her body opened to him and he pushed six inches, then pulled out.

  “Take my pussy,” she hissed, reaching between them and stroking her clitoris. She closed her eyes and moaned.

  Marcel pushed back in. Slowly worked his hips, his dick sliding in and out of silky heat.

  Eight inches in…

  Nairobia moaned louder. “Uhhhhh…mmmm…neuk me…”

  Marcel kissed the hollow of her neck.

  Nine inches in…

  She gasped. He was thicker than her arm. The burn, the sting, made her pussy wetter. She rolled her hips. “Mmmm…aaaaah… Ja, Ja, Jaaaaa…”

  “Fuck your pussy on my cock, baby,” he murmured. “Aaah, yeah…”

  He pulled out again, slowly retreating, her pussy quivering around him. He slid back in. Then out. Leaving her with nothing but the head of his cock inside her. Fucking her with the tip, he bit down on his bottom lip, enjoying the slick, tingly sensations.

  She came and he felt her muscles sucking in his head, fluttering and shuddering all around him. He let out a moan, pushing back in, deeper. And she gasped.

  Ten inches in…

  Pain. Burn. Sting. Unrelenting pleasure.

  She was everything Marcel needed.

  He waited for her slit to close around him. Covered her mouth with his. Slipped his tongue in. Then pushed his dick back in. Nairobia’s mouth opened in a soundless scream, her breath escaping from her lungs.

  She’d said the night before she wouldn’t give him her pussy, but this morning a switch in her body flipped. And he could have it. All of it. Every inch of her cunt he could fuck inside out.

  Now.

  Sweet pressure. Unrelenting fire. Dark arousal.

  He was everything Nairobia wanted.

  Everything her body yearned for.

  Eleven inches in…

  Her breaths rushed from her nostrils, and she felt herself gasping, gulping in mouthfuls of heated air. Marcel scorched her senses as he grabbed her tenderly around the hips and thrust forward, going in deeper. “Yeah, baby…open that sweet pussy up to me…”

  Twisting his fingers through her hair, Marcel tugged, then bent to spread kisses along the side of her neck. With slow, sensual licks, he lapped his way toward her ear, nibbling, kissing, and licking. Then his mouth found hers again, making her body shiver as he licked her lips and enticed her to part them. His tongue swept into her mouth and her body opened up to all of him.

  Thirteen inches in…

  She was full. Stretched. Sizzling.

  Her toes curled. Fire wrapped around the inside of her pussy.

  Marcel took his time. Rocked his hips into her body. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. I’m all in. Yeah, I feel you…aaah, yeah…wet pussy…aaaah, shiiiit…got that pussy all on this dick…give me that nut, baby… Je voudrais sentir cette noix sucrée fonder partout dans cette grosse bite, bèbè…” (Let me feel that sweet nut melt all over this big dick, baby).

  Arms locked around his neck, her long legs wrapped around Marcel’s lower back, and she welcomed him into her erupting flames, taking his slow, sweet, torturous thrust with abandon, her head and eyes rolling. Stretching around him, she clawed her nails down his back and came over and over and over, her orgasms shattering around him, soaking him. Torching him.

  Her whole body shook.

  Then he cried out. Her name. Nairobia. It was a sweet melody, a cry of triumph and release escaping his lips as he continued his slow thrusts into her body. He stayed inside her heat, inside her clutching wetness until he came again…

  Flooding his condom.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Naaaaairobia, daaaaahling,” Zeus, the office manager for the trendy salon, Nappy No More II, cooed the minute she stepped through the sliding glass doors into the reception area of one of L.A.’s hottest hair salons on the West Coast.

  He stood up and greeted Nairobia with two cheeky air kisses. Nairobia smiled at the high-heeled gender-bender as he took her in. He smiled at her. The diamonds around her neck and wrists instantly came alive under the recessed lighting. “You look scandalously fabulous as ever.”

  Nairobia tossed her hair. “Thank you, my love,” she said, her oversized Birkin bag hanging in the crook of her arm. Zeus took in the crocodile leather and the diamond-studded clasp—ten-carat diamonds set on a bed of white gold, and drooled. As far as he was concerned—next to diamonds, a hard dick, and a popping lip gloss, a gorgeous handbag was a diva’s best friend. And he longed more than anything to have the coveted Hermès bag in his possession.

  Even though Pasha paid him a handsome salary as her office manager, it was nothing compared to the price tag of that handbag. He’d have to su
ck about thirteen hundred dicks at a rate of one hundred dollars a nut in order to afford the six-figure purchase, he mused before gazing back into Nairobia’s sparkling eyes. He lived for her. She was an icon. A legend. And he’d watched every last one of her movies in hopes to one day become half the seductress she was. He secretly aspired to become a porn star himself and had already made several of his own home videos, which he’d posted up regularly on Snapchat, and several sex sites. But he was nowhere near Nairobia’s caliber. And he suspected he and his homemade sex videos never would be.

  Still…

  He could dream.

  Zeus looked his idol over, and bit the inside of his lip to keep from gushing. If he’d ever craved fish, she’d have been the first he’d try to fillet. Unbeknownst to anyone, some of his best orgasms were had from watching—with his lovers—Nairobia in her award-winning movie Clitty-Clitty, Bang-Bang, where she’d tied three hunks up—their hands and feet tethered to posts—and fucked and sucked them nearly unconscious, her cunt stretching down and over the length of them, making their horse-hung cocks magically disappear in and out of her body. He loved watching their dicks vanish in her wetness.

  Zeus blinked. Then smiled at Nairobia. “I’ll let Pasha know you’re here.” He smacked his lips together. “While you wait, would you like a glass of wine, champagne…?”

  Nairobia shook her head. “No, my darling. Thanks. A lady never drinks before three.”

  He pursed his lips. “Mmph. Isn’t it just past three on the East Coast?” He winked at her. “I’d say the lady deserves a cocktail or two…”

  Nairobia glanced at her timepiece. 3:05 p.m. Her watch was still set for East Coast time. She smiled slyly. “In that case, my love. One glass of bubbly will be fine.”

  He pressed a few keys on his computer. Then within seconds, a server appeared, handing her a glass of Armand de Brignac Rose champagne. She took the glass of cava, then proceeded to take in the opulence of the salon as she took a slow sip.

  She loved the stunning rain curtain that flowed from the ceiling to the black lava stones in the marble floor. She admired the custom décor and an impressive collection of art, including pieces by Andy Warhol, William Nash, and Leroy Campbell. The minute you stepped across the threshold of the ten-thousand-square-foot salon, you knew you’d stepped inside sleek sophistication.