Erotic City

by Pynk

  “Oh no. Not from the kid.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” He turned up the jazz radio station a notch.

  Tamiko looked his way and spoke to his profile. “Would you fool around if I did?”

  “To be honest with you, I probably would.”

  “Really?” Tamiko turned the volume back down. “I thought you said two wrongs don’t make a right. That’s a double standard.”

  “That’s just keepin it real. That’s just a man trying to get his mind off of stuff.”

  “Not sure if I like your honesty.”

  They came to a red light. “The thing is, foolin around would mean it’s over anyway, right? But, we don’t have to worry about that so, we’re straight.” He reached for her with his eyes.

  She smiled and leaned over to kiss him on his cheek. She said, “We are,” and glanced out of the passenger side window.

  They met about a year ago, around the same time as Milan and Lavender. Jarod had applied to be a bodyguard for Tamiko’s dad just before he got sick. Tamiko was working as her father’s assistant. Her dad didn’t hire Jarod. First of all, her dad thought he was too young, even though he was twenty-seven at the time. But also because at the last minute, her dad’s best friend asked him to hire his son. But by then, Jarod had already shown up for the scheduled interview at a hotel in Vegas where Tamiko’s dad was about to make what would be his last performance onstage. And Tamiko was bitten. Hard.

  Jarod bought his new luxury car to chauffeur people around the vastness of the greater Atlanta area. He was born in Decatur and knew the city like the back of his hand. He’d started his own car service company last year and it was paying off well enough. He had his regular clients who made his business a success. By night, he worked for Milan as Lavender’s right hand. The man never slept.

  During the day from eight until five, he dropped off and picked up clients. And from nine at night until four in the morning, he worked at Erotic City. When he did have a night off, the second thing that was most on his mind was sex. And even though Tamiko spent her time putting all she had into trying to turn her love of fashion into her own clothing line called Cheekz, she worked some serious overtime of her own trying to please him. But, she felt it was worth it. She considered Jarod to be her best friend and her soul mate. Unlike with the other men she’d bonded to who left her broken hearted, she wanted this one to be different.

  A while after arriving home, they lay in bed in the master bedroom suite of Tamiko’s place. It was the home her father had bought when he’d married Nancy seven years ago. The outside was red brick with a clay roof. The inside of the five-bedroom McMansion had rich, cherry hardwood flooring and mahogany paneling. The walls were dark tan with buff crown molding. Most of the rooms were sparsely furnished being that Nancy took just about everything as part of the divorce settlement, but the main bedroom and sitting area were complete. The large area even had a full wet bar and a two-sided fireplace.

  Atop the fitted leopard-print comforter, both buck naked, they watched a Baby Got Back porno. As usual, Jarod’s favorite X-rated star, Cherokee, was doing what she did best. Bouncing her world-class ass. And what an ass it was.

  “How’d you get to be such a butt fiend?” Tamiko asked, keeping both eyes on the gingerbread-colored, talented, booty shakin porn star.

  Jarod’s left hand gripped only half of his rock-hard penis. “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “It’s like it’s a fetish or something?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “Well, what would you call it then?” Tamiko rested her head upon his buffed shoulder and looped her leg in between his legs.

  “Me liking big butts isn’t out of the ordinary, is it? I mean, a fetish is something you like that’s out of the ordinary that you fantasize about and spend all day thinking about. Something kinky like getting hit in the back of the head. Now, that donkey punch shit is crazy. Shoot, man, mine is mild. I just love the female body.”

  Tamiko’s eyes bugged toward the flat screen. “Well, whatever you want to call your preference or fixation, I’d call that booty way, way out of the ordinary.” She examined every inch of it. “She is one of a kind. What does it do for you though? Supernatural butts I mean?”

  “You know. Just something to pad the pushin. Something to hold on to. Something to watch.” And watch he did. Jarod began stroking himself, rubbing the enormous head of his dick with his long thumb. “Look at that shit.” The movement of his stroke was like erotic clockwork. “That is a thing of beauty.”

  Tamiko turned onto her stomach, still adjusting her sights to watch the movie. “That is way too much junk in the trunk, if you ask me.”

  “Look who’s talkin. You got all the backside in the Kennedy family anyway. Thank God.” Jarod popped her butt and it shook in response. His glimpse lingered.

  “Oh, so you’re trying to talk about my sister, huh?”

  “No, but you’ve definitely got a whole lot more. I’m just saying.”

  “Shoot. Milan’s got enough breasts to make up for it. I wish I did. I got my hips from the big girl side of my dad’s family.”

  “I ain’t mad at ’em.” He returned his eyes to the movie.

  Tamiko shifted her stare to Jarod’s handsome face. His teeth were Colgate perfect and his eyebrows spanned perfectly over his wide brown eyes. “Good thing you don’t have a brother. The ladies of the world couldn’t handle that.”

  “As long as you can handle it, I’m cool.”

  “I try.”

  He made a moaning sound and gave even longer strokes to himself. “Damn. Uh, uh, uh.”

  “Speaking of fetishes, let’s hope there’s no big booty white girl coming on next. You will lose your mind then.” She shied away from viewing the gifted porno stars again. Instead, her eyes dropped from her man’s face to his extreme endowment. His forever dick was medium brown, slightly lighter toward the top third, and it curved to the left, toward Tamiko. The rounded head of his circumcised cock was like an extralarge mushroom. It morphed down into a wide shaft, seeming to be the size of a damn forearm. He and Tamiko had measured it as twelve inches, with a girth of almost seven inches at its thickest point. It looked like a hammer and banged like one, too. It was a sight for sore eyes.

  8

  “Mr. Big Stuff”

  Sunday, March 30, 2008

  5:17 p.m.

  In the beginning, Tamiko was afraid to suck Jarod’s dick. She didn’t have much practice, having only been with two average-size men before him. Both who proposed and both who she’d caught cheating.

  But giving her horny ex-boyfriends oral sex, and giving Jarod oral sex was the difference between a Volkswagen and a damn Hummer. He put the E in endowed, and it took her a few months to master his mighty hungness. Though after a while, she quickly found that one thing she was actually good at was swallowing a huge dick like it was a Tootsie Roll. And those dick-sucking skills kept Jarod hanging around.

  Tamiko had a wide mouth, with thick dick-sucking lips and a long tongue. And the trip was that she seemed to have no gagging reflex whatsoever. She knew how and when to use her hands to assist her once she’d gotten his man-muscle as far down her throat as it would go. It was an art to her. But when it came to taking her man inside of her pussy, now that was a dick of a different color.

  She loved to make a downright slippery mess when she sucked him off. When she was done, the sheet under his ass would be soaking wet. Tonight, she’d decided to keep a bottle of beer beside the bed, just so she could wet his dick-whistle the way he really liked her to.

  “Keep watching your girl. I’ve got this,” she said. She moved his right hand away from the firm grip he had on his man-size tool.

  Just as she shifted her body from lying beside him, he spread his legs almost automatically, making way for her driver-seat position. She moved downward and rested her tummy along the covers, tossing her hair behind her, and propped her elbows so that her hands could reach his wonder
dick. Her legs hung off the bed and her maple ass was sprawled out. He caught a downward glimpse and took a deep breath. His face said he knew what he was in for.

  Jarod put his right arm behind his head and leaned back, keeping his eyes on the sight of caramel Cherokee, with her d’ass tattoo on her right cheek, riding a dick doggy style, with the camera all up in the crack of her mammoth booty. Her ass jiggled like Jell-O. There was a loud slapping sound each time her cheeks would clap together.

  Meanwhile, Tamiko’s tongue tickled Jarod’s broad tip, and then his dorsal area. She traveled down to his substantial balls and kissed them.

  He lay back like a puppy getting his belly scratched.

  He shifted his eyes to view Tamiko, though he only saw the top of her head. She placed her hand under his thigh, signaling for him to raise his legs and she slipped her tongue up and down along the wrinkled skin of his tight asshole, poking inside, tossing his salad. He moaned and his eyes opened wide. He caught another glimpse of his girl Cherokee at work and tensed up. His asshole clamped around her stiff tongue. His dick surged and he let out a long, slow “Unghhhh.”

  Tamiko smiled at his manly anatomy and moved up to his hard-on. He lowered his legs, watching her as she took his dick deep into her mouth.

  She opened her mouth extra wide and slid him in, again and again, stretching her lips around his size, inching herself along, making sure to keep her teeth away as best she could. She backed away and spit, stroking his shaft with her palm, giving expert wrist rotation with every long stroke, similar to the stroke she’d learned by watching him jack off so often. She moved over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of Corona.

  “You are bad.” His statement was accentuated by raised eyebrows.

  “My mouth is dry.” She took a long swig and replaced the bottle.

  She kept the chilled brew in her mouth, and brought her lips back to his penis, slowly inserting him deep inside with the beer meeting his hardness.

  “Damn, that shit feels good.”

  She sucked, and moved her head like a bobble-head doll, making sloshing sounds and allowing small dribbles of the liquid to drip down and saturate his testicles. Again she took him all the way back, as far as it would go, and swallowed him to her tonsils. She held a handful of dick at the base and her mouth was full. He could feel the back of her throat. She growled.

  He said, “That’s my baby. Get all that shit in there.”

  Tamiko came up for air and again grabbed the bottle, this time drinking a few swallows for herself.

  “You know I’m ready for that pussy, don’t you?” This time it was his eyes that said he was serious. “Turn over.”

  Tamiko propped herself up on her knees while Jarod sat up and positioned himself behind her. He still had a view of the movie. Cherokee was still going at it.

  He stuck himself inside of his woman. She jerked. He pulled out and slipped back in, this time slower.

  “That’s my big man, there,” she said, almost purring.

  “You know it.”

  Tamiko eyed the movie and grinded. There was a white woman, built like a sista, now joining in on the action. Tamiko was not surprised.

  Jarod said from behind Tamiko, “Damn, she’s got a body.”

  She shook her head in her mind only and concentrated on trying to make her man cum. She slid her ass up and down, taking most of what he had to offer, and stopped. She squirmed. “Let me get on my back.”

  He agreed and she turned over, opening her legs wide, exposing the view of her Brazilian-waxed pussy. He entered her again. She pulled away and took a long breath. He entered again and dug deep.

  “Baby, wait.” She shifted her body and worked the angle to accommodate all that he had.

  Tamiko managed to screw him that way long enough to get a good rhythm going. Jarod made those sounds. Those sounds he’d make when he was about to cum. But usually he’d make them after a couple of hours of serious buck-wild fucking. With Jarod, she had to pack a serious lunch.

  He pressed straight back inside and braced himself when Tamiko jerked. She froze.

  “No, don’t stop. Keep it up, just like that.” He panted hard while long drips of his salty sweat began to fall upon her titties.

  Tamiko moved back toward the headboard and took another deep breath.

  “You’re scooting again,” he said with a mix of frustration and compassion.

  “Not so hard,” she told him.

  Even when she faked it, it never helped him get his rocks off. He needed constant, exact stimulation.

  He paused and pulled out slowly. “Here, on your side.” He crawled off and she lay to her left. He came up from behind and entered her again. She kept her hand alongside his thigh to control him, and grinded in tiny circles. His voice sounded pleased. “That’s it.”

  What seemed like a two-hour marathon ended up being barely one. Tamiko watched the clock to make sure. She reached back and did a wetness check, but found that it was indeed a dry fuck.

  “Wait. Let me lick your balls.” She always knew that if all else failed, his own masturbating would do the trick.

  “Okay,” Jarod said sounding on edge.

  He rolled onto his back and Tamiko moved between his legs. She took his hand and placed it on his dick. She spit four long dribbles of saliva on the head. He shellacked his dick with her fluid and stroked in a circular motion.

  Her face met his crown jewels. She licked them with her flat tongue, up and down like an ice cream cone, over and over, again moving up to wet his dick with spit.

  The movie had been long over. Jarod closed his eyes and lost himself in his own visual production. He again sounded like his moans were about to turn into grunts.

  She kept her focus upon his balls. They were drenched with her repeated saliva that ran down from his dick. Just as her jaw began to cramp, he slowed down, squeezed his base, and said, “Here, baby. Take this.”

  She quickly met his tip with her wide-open mouth, and he released his hand, shooting his hot, cloudy cum into her mouth. She took every drop and swallowed while looking up at him with big, receiving eyes.

  She wiped her mouth and stood. Through the mirror, Tamiko watched him watch her backside with a satisfied look on his face.

  She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Her feet pressed upon the Spanish limestone. In the dark, she sat upon the toilet and peed, rubbing the sweat from her forehead. Even when she was done, she sat still. She heard him speak to her.

  “You handled me like a champ.”

  She remembered him telling her the first time they had sex that most women complained that he took too long. Most women would only get theirs and then go to sleep. He said one woman referred to sex with him as one long boregasm.

  “You just don’t give up,” he said.

  She sat still, without a reply. Unsatisfied and exhausted.

  She stood and flushed the toilet and then turned on the light and the shower. She climbed inside, slid the chocolate shower curtain closed, and squeezed the almond body wash onto her hands. Tamiko rubbed between her legs and all over her skin and to her breasts. She removed the elongated showerhead and lowered it toward her pussy. The pulsating aim of the spraying water shot upward at the point of her fleshy vulva and her heated shaft. It teased her tender meaty point. She relaxed her muscles and brought the tip of her finger up to the spot of her clit, rubbing her finger back and forth. And Tamiko brought herself to a slow, quiet climax, gently squeezing her ass and thigh muscles as she busted a good, self-servicing nut of her own.

  She sighed and rinsed her body and returned the showerhead to its place. She turned off the water, hearing her no-girl-head-giving boyfriend in the throes of a deep, I got mine, loud-ass snore. As usual.

  He would need to get up and head to work in an hour.

  She went into the den and sat, in thought, wondering, “Is that all there is?”

  9

  “Controversy”

  Sunday, March 30, 2008

&n
bsp; 11:15 p.m.

  The bright neon lights read E.C. The initials shone loudly outside of the erotic club of swing in the heart of Hotlanta. It was considered fairly early as far as the club was concerned, yet the parking lot was nearly full.

  The tuxedo-clad valet had been busy since the doors had opened at nine o’clock. Parked down the street were two news vans, both with satellites perched high up into the black sky. The photographers and reporters kept their distance but also kept a close eye on the front door as though waiting for something else to happen, for someone well known to show up and get their freak-nasty on, or perhaps waiting to catch the club’s owner for an impromptu interview. Only, Milan had made sure to arrive early in the afternoon, way before the madness she’d so correctly predicted.

  Inside, Milan sat in her office, eyeing the goings-on from the top floor as always. She sat back with her legs crossed, swiveling in her high-back chair with her mind racing. She spoke toward the speakerphone.

  “Don’t they know we have no liability in this thing? And they’d better not photograph the cars in my parking lot. That’s a gross invasion of privacy. Am I the only one who sees this?” She tapped her long fingernails along her desktop. “I mean, some famous guy patronizes us and all of a sudden we’re responsible for his actions. Not that I believe the accusations in the least.” She stood up, wearing her grape pants suit, and walked across the Persian rug to the front window.

  Family friend and lawyer Hunter Wyatt replied, “Milan, as you know, because it happened on your premises, and because of the celebrity status of the accused, this is big news. It’s not like it happened at a local restaurant or at a park. The world of swingers is mysterious enough so people are curious. You know you can’t blame them for that.”

  Milan spoke just short of loud while she gave a peek through the vertical blinds. “Well, I guess next thing, we’ll see Entertainment Tonight or TMZ out there. People who come here deserve some privacy.”

  “I understand that.”