by Cairo
“Aww, I wish you would have called me earlier,” I lie.
Between you and me, I have no interest in allowing this man up in my pussy again. One, he’s packing extremely too much damn dick to be trying to fuck me on the regular.
That eleven-and-a-half-inch, dark-chocolate pole is about the size of a damn arm. And I’m sorry, say what you want, but I’m not the one. In my opinion, a big dick like his has to be taken in very small doses, like once every three to six months. There’s no way I want him plunging in and out of me—not today, or any other day. I’m a firm believer that any woman who lives for a big-ass dick on a regular has got to have a pussy as wide and nasty as the Hudson River. Ugh! There’s nothing worse than an overworked, over-fucked, sloppy, stretched-out hole.
Two, he blazes trees like a damned forest fire. Can’t seem to focus or function without it. The shit seems to reek from his pores when he sweats. I don’t know ’bout you, but I don’t think there is anything sexy about having a nigga lying up on top of me smelling like he rolled himself up in a blunt. Sorry, getting a contact high is not my thing. Not that it’s my place to judge, but this nigga is a real fiend, if you ask me. He’d rather blow two, three hundred dollars a week on weed than invest it in something more constructive. Like a set of braces for his crooked-ass teeth.
And three, Barry’s one of those people I was talking about a while back who jumps into a relationship with someone without knowing them, then complains. From what he has shared with me during our few encounters, he met his chick at some strip bar; fucked her a few times; then she got pregnant. Now, the mofo was already in between places and needed a spot to lay his head, so what does he do? He moves in with her. Now, two years later, he’s miserable and feels trapped. Dumb ass! That’s what the hell he gets for splashing off in her without a damned condom. I’ll say it again: Date, date, date before you jump into shit with someone.
“I can get out around two, if that’s cool with you,” he says.
Two in the fucking morning? I think in my head. Oh, hell no! This muthafucker is one screw from crazy. “No, it’s not,” I say.
“What about—”
My call waiting beeps. “Barry, hold on,” I say, clicking over to retrieve the other call before he can respond. “Hello?”
“What’s good, lady?”
“Hey, Ian,” I say, smiling. Ian is a sexy, half-black, half-Korean cutie. He’s twenty-seven, six-foot-three, and one hundred and ninety-five pounds, with nine inches of thick cut man meat! And mother-f-ing f-i-n-e. Yes, I’ve fucked him before. Between you and me, he’s really not all that good in the pussy-eating department, but fucking…baby, let me tell you. This dude can slay some pussy. Now that he’s called, I’m going to invite him deep inside these wet sugar walls and allow him to nut himself to paradise! “What’s good with you?”
“This big dick,” he says.
I laugh. “Is that so?”
“Don’t play. You already know. So, dig, you up for some company or what?”
“Hell, yeah,” I reply excitedly. “It’s been a minute since I’ve had some of that dick.”
“Oh, so you’ve missed this dick?”
I smile. I will tell him what he wants to hear; stroke his ego and make him feel like his is the only dick that matters. “Yes, baby,” I moan. “I haven’t been fucked right since the last time you knocked these walls. And that’s been a minute.”
“So you saying you ain’t had no dick since me?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying your dick is what feels best inside me. These other niggas don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
In my mind’s eye, I can see him nodding and smiling and patting himself on the back.
“Oh, word? That’s what it is. Well, check this. I’m coming to split that asshole wide open tonight.”
I smile. “You can do whatever you want, as long as you licking it first.”
“No doubt,” he says. “What time you want me to slide through?”
I glance at my watch. It’s already seven-thirty. “Nine-thirty’s good,” I state.
“Bet. I’ll see you then.”
“Mmmm,” I moan, almost forgetting about Barry on the other line. “My pussy’s already wet for you.”
“Exactly how I like it.”
“See you at nine-thirty,” I say, hanging up, then clicking back over to the other line. “Barry, sorry about that. Look, I gotta get ready to go. Call me one day next week if you can.”
“Oh, word? It’s like that? I was trying to stop through later on tonight.”
“Umm, for one, two o’clock is too late for you come over here.”
“Since when?” he asks.
I frown. “Since I have other plans, that’s when.”
“What, you got another nigga coming through?”
I roll my eyes. See? This is exactly why I can’t be so bothered with a man. Talk about a mofo overstepping his boundaries. Give a nigga some pussy and he starts thinking he can question you and keep tabs on the pussy—even when the mofo has a woman at home. Now I have to get ugly.
“Nigga, not that I owe you any explanations, but yeah, I got a better offer,” I flatly state. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting to get my guts wrecked tonight so I need to freshen up.”
“I’ll be there around two,” he says, dismissing what I tell him. “Have that nigga gone before I get there.”
I laugh. “Fool, get a damn grip.”
“Oh, you think I’m joking?”
“No,” I say, still laughing. “But I do think you are a joke.”
“Oh, so you think I’m a joke, huh? Well let me come through and show you exactly what kind of joke I am when I slam this dick up in you.”
“Cuckoo…cuckoo…cuckoo,” I chant in a singsong tone. “Can we say, ‘med check,’ please?”
He lowers his voice. “Oh, so you tryna to be funny, right? Why you gotta fucking play all the damn time? Can I come through or what?”
I roll my eyes. He is slowly starting to get on my last nerve. “Barry, do me a favor. Delete my damn number, please.”
“What?” he asks.
I sigh. “Don’t call me again. The dick was good while it lasted, but I’m done with it. So no, you can’t come through. And no, you can’t have any of this pussy—ever again. You might as well keep that dick right where it is ’cause I don’t want it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says. “Hold up. Where’s this coming from? A few minutes ago you were acting like it was all good between us. Now you flipping the script. What’s up with that?”
I suck my teeth. “Barry, what script am I flipping? I fucking told you straight out that I was getting my back dug out tonight by another dude, and you still pressing me about coming through. Well, you can’t ’cause, news flash, I’ma be riding another nigga’s dick. Speaking of dick, would you like to suck his nut out of my pussy when he’s finished fucking me down?”
“Yo, what kinda shit you on?” he snaps, sounding offended. “I don’t fucking get down like that, so don’t play me.”
“What, did I hit a nerve, huh, Barry?” I lower my voice to a seductive whisper, and say, “Tell me, big daddy. Do you ever fantasize about tasting another man’s hot nut? Fantasize about having it slide down in your cheating-ass throat? Mmmmmmmm, finger-licking good,” I moan, then laugh.
This only pisses him off more.
“Yo, what the fuck you laughing for? I told you I ain’t on none of that homo shit. I’m all man, baby…believe that.”
“Oh, well. Too bad, then. ’Cause had you been willing to eat my pussy after him, I might have reconsidered letting you come through. But—”
“But nothing,” he snaps. “I’m tryna come through for some pussy, and you wanna be on some fucking dumb shit.”
“Nigga, please,” I say, laughing again. “You can come around here if you want. But make no mistake. It won’t be any of this wet pussy you get. It’ll be a set of damn handcuffs, locking your crazy ass up. Now, try
it if you want.”
“You know what, I ain’t even beat. I see you wanna play ’n shit. So, whose this nigga you fuckin’?”
Oh, no, he didn’t just fucking ask me who I’m fucking. This mother-fucker got the wrong one!
I take a deep breath, then asks, “Barry, where’s your woman at?”
“She’s upstairs, why?”
“Let me speak to her.”
“Say, what?”
“I said, let me speak to her.”
“Are you fuckin’ buggin’?”
“No,” I snap. “But you are for thinking you can question me or dictate to me. I’m not your dumb-ass chick. I don’t answer to you, nor do I take directions from you. She puts up with your shit, not me. So don’t get it twisted.”
“Yeah, aiight,” he huffs. “Whatever. I see you on some other shit. So I’ll get up with you.”
“No, sweetie, please don’t.” Now, I’ve never been the type of woman who kisses and tells, ’cause I believe what two consenting adults do is what they do. But there’s a first time for everything. And make no mistake, Barry will have me blow his spot up if he doesn’t bow out gracefully. “’Cause if you do, I promise you I’m going to be ringing your doorbell to have a little chat with your woman. And I don’t think you want that, so let’s say our goodbyes, and keep it moving.”
“Yeah, whatever, bitch,” he snaps, hanging up on me. Oh, well. He asked for it when he opened his mouth trying to be on some extra shit with me. I might be a bitch, but trust and believe, I ain’t that bitch. The nerve of him!
Well, alrighty then. I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’s almost eight o’clock and I need to get ready for my company. So, until the next time…peace, love, harmony, and mouthwatering black dick!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The buzzing sound of my alarm clock awakens me, alerting me that it is six a.m. I reach over without opening my eyes and press the snooze button. I’m exhausted and sore from my night with Ian. I can still feel his cocoa-colored dick throbbing inside of me. I have been fucked and stretched to my limit. Have been licked and sucked and nibbled on to the point of no return. Whew…he fucked me down!
My nipples harden as I remember the thrust of his thick, mocha-colored cock in and out of my hot, slippery hole. How the width of his dick spread open my slick walls! How its length tickled the back of my pussy! Goosebumps form along my body and cause me to shiver as I repeat his words in my head. I can’t wait to slide my dick up in you and fuck you; can’t wait to feel you grab my dick with your sweet, wet pussy. I wanna fuck you until I can’t fuck no more; until your pussy is raw. Until my dick cramps and my balls shrivel.
“Damn, baby,” he whispered as he slapped his dick against my clit, beating it until it ached and throbbed, until it enlarged and filled with desire, until it caused my outer lips to quiver, “you got a pretty pussy.”
He teased me until I could no longer take it. I wanted him inside of me. I was ripe and ready and needed to be fucked. I spread open my thighs as wide as they could go and reached for his taunting cock, thrusting my hips upward to guide him inside of me.
“Fuck me,” I urged. “Stop teasing me, and fuuuuuck meeeeee. Give me the dick…mmmm…let me feel that dick.”
He jabbed at the mouth of my pussy with the tip of his dick. Poked and stabbed at it until a fountain of warm, gushy lust spurted out from its opening, wetting his cock. He pushed himself deep inside of me, allowed himself to get lost in my wetness. I threw my right leg up over his shoulder and wrapped it around his neck, offering him all of my goodness, allowing his dick to feel all that my pussy is made of—sweet, delicious, mouthwatering pleasure.
“Aaaah, shit, baby,” he moaned in my ear while stroking my walls. “This pussy is so fucking good. I wanna spend the rest of my life inside of it.” I clenched my snatch around his cock, milked his thick muscle until he trembled inside of me. “Oh, fuck…Oh fuck…”
“That’s right, daddy,” I urged, bucking my hips up against his. “Fuck this pussy…Fuck me with that big dick…Oh, yes, fuck meeeee…”
With each thrust, I could tell his dick—like that of every man I fuck—craved more of my pussy. Could tell it ached for release into my sweet snatch, my warm mouth, and my ultra-tight asshole. And I invited him to fuck me in every hole until he shuddered and yelled out in ecstasy.
Humph…
My hand wanders lazily over my tingling pussy as I continue to replay the events in my mind. I allow my fingers to graze against my clit. Warm cunt juice is beginning to trickle out of my slit. I insert a finger, begin to stir, then the alarm clock buzzes again, disrupting my reverie. I let out a disgusted sigh, pressing the snooze button again. So much for pleasing myself, I think as I stretch, yawn, and roll over in bed, wanting to stay beneath the warmth of my comforter until noon. I open one eye, glancing at the clock. Thirty minutes have gone by. I let out another deep sigh, then close my eyes in hopes of catching a few more zzzs.
But sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I find my thoughts shifting from Ian to the block hugger I fucked nine months ago. Don’t ask me why he enters my mind after all this time, but he does. I allow myself to savor the memory. Shareef, Shareef, Shareef. My Lord…he was twenty-four, six-foot, three, and one hundred ninety pounds of lean muscle with a shiny black, ten-and-three-quarter-inch dick that curved slightly to the left. He’d been trying to get at me for over a year, and I’d always brushed him off because of his age. That particular night when I ran into him at Fantasy’s, a titty bar in Keyport, he was standing there looking good and talking real sexy-like, trying to convince me to let him show me how a man’s supposed to treat a woman. Asking me when I was going to let him take me out. I was flattered, but told him taking me out would be like a date, and I don’t date. Please. Dating, as you already know, would mean I was trying to get to know a mofo outside of the bedroom. Imagine that. Not going to happen.
Anyway, I asked him what he’d do with a woman like me. He grinned, stepped up closer, leaned into my ear, then whispered how he could show me better than he could tell me. I immediately asked him my standard questions. He answered yes to all of ’em. Of course he would. He wanted some pussy. Needless to say, I told him when he was ready to go, to let me know so he could follow me home.
Forty minutes later, he was trailing behind me out the door. When we got here, I led him upstairs to my bedroom, and he got right down to business. Pinned me up against the wall and started kissing me. To my surprise his lips were as soft as a baby’s. He jabbed his Hennessey-flavored tongue in and out of my mouth while slowly unbuttoning my blouse. When he freed my breasts from my bra, he placed his mouth on them, sucking each one like a greedy newborn hungry for its milk. He picked me up, carried me over to the bed, then laid me down and removed the rest of my clothes, then his own. His mouth and tongue traveled down my stomach into the center of my neatly trimmed bush while he massaged my titties. Homeboy rubbed his face into my mound, and I spread my legs open wider, giving him full access to the treat that awaited him. He lapped my clit with long, slow strokes, then dipped his tongue inside me, holding my pussy in his mouth, losing himself. He licked back up to my titties (sucked my nipples like they were dipped in honey), then moved up to my neck, then back down to my pussy, bathing every inch of my body with his eager, hungry tongue.
I’m not going to front. The heat from his breath and the feel of his tongue had me on fire. I wanted to feel his dick inside of me, and begged him for it. Yes, I begged for the dick. Please. This ho ain’t too proud to beg, okay? And he gave it to me.
He got between my legs, rubbed the head of his dick along the slit of my pussy, then slid it inside of me. My pussy churned with excitement as his fat, black dick crashed into me, stretching my wet pussy. I started moaning and groaning, talking real fast and nasty, telling, demanding him to fuck me. He reached over, grabbed his boxers from the side of the bed, then stuffed them in my mouth. That shocked me at first (I’ve never had a man’s underwear in my mouth), but he had me so
damn hot, that it cranked my thermostat up higher. He had my pussy overheating with each thrust. Steam was everywhere. The sweet smell of my pussy filled the room.
He pushed my legs back toward my head, then shoved his dick in my hole as deep as he could. I wrapped my smooth legs around him, placing one leg over his shoulder, and the other around his hip. The way he thrust in me, I knew he wanted to make me scream out his name. Please. He’d have to put in a lot more work for that.
Finally, we shifted positions. I took his boxers out of my mouth, placed them over his head, got on my knees, then arched my back, and he slid his beef back in me. My pussy swished and swashed, squeezed and pulled at his dick. He groaned, moaned and grunted, gripping my hips, smacking my ass. I kept telling him how good his dick felt in me, begged him to give it to me harder. I watched him watching himself in the mirrors as he rode my ass with all his might, sweat dripping and face twisting. The nastier I talked, the thicker his dick got, the harder he pumped, the deeper he went. Mmmm. That young stallion fucked me good.
I roll over onto my stomach now with two fingers strumming inside my pussy, while another is stroking my clit. I pump and bounce my pelvis down on my hand, which has become an imaginary dick that widens my walls and causes me to gasp and moan in ecstasy. In my mind’s eye, I am being fucked from the back. A thick, black sword is slashing into my pussy, creating a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure that shoots through the center of my being, then explodes into tiny pellets of creamy ecstasy.
When I am done cumming all over my hand and fingers, I lie still for a moment to steady my breathing. I wait a few more minutes, then roll over, kicking the white comforter and sheet off me.
Whew! All this thinking about sex and dick and fucking causes me to think about the types of music I enjoy while getting my pussy popped. Good dick. Good sex. Good music. Put the three together and something magical seems to happen. A list of some of my most favorite songs—music I like to fuck and suck a dick to—begins to play in my head, sensual melodies and tantalizing sounds that remind me of something wonderfully delicious. I mentally sift through each song, thinking, remembering, and smiling.
