Chocolate Flava (Chocolate Flava 1)

I tip my head to the ceiling where flashes and sparkles of light invade my blindfold, and I realize with sudden certainty that the man preparing to take me from behind is without a doubt not Damon!

I feel a mix of anguish and total sensual elation. I am in the midst of some public hallway, and with whom, I have no clue.

The weight of that thought is like electricity that courses through my veins.

What should I do???

The thought is fleeting.

He slides his thick member slowly up the crease of my ass and back down toward my cunt. I tremble at the thought of gripping him between my velvety folds. I am offering up my firm ass and lithe hips, daring him to entomb himself in my reservoir.

My breath is weak.

I am near exhaustion.

Perhaps I am about to faint.

I am sliding down. I can feel it.

I try to remain strong, but my willpower is ebbing away, like the tides. Part of me wants this so badly I can taste it. In a moment, I will have no resolve left.

Then he will have his way….

Behind me, my abductor has taken hold of his member and pointed it at my opening. Juices are meandering down both thighs—I am that wet. The air around me is charged. I hear him exhale, slowly and forcefully, as he inches toward my molten core….

A smattering of bombs goes off simultaneously inside of me. The anticipation of things to come is replaced by vivid unfiltered reality. The hardness of his thick strength passes slowly through the opening to my sex as he accelerates toward the end of my womb, filling me up in an instant, a feeling so surreal that for a moment I think that I may be imagining this scene. But the culmination of my expectations has finally taken place. He is fucking me now, his manhood seemingly alive inside me. I feel his hot breath on my neck as he pumps me with abandon. And for the first time this evening, I choose to lose myself in this joining, the slapping of flesh against flesh as he takes me from behind, no longer wondering who this lover is or what the consequences will be if he isn’t mine. For now, I am enjoying the ride, the way he fills my pussy with his wand, which seems to sparkle inside of my wet folds, energizing me with its rhythm and song.

I am pressed into the wall, my breasts mashed by his powerful body. But I am not complaining. The sensations, which I feel at this moment are localized at my core but expanding outward like a supernova, are indescribable.

Behind me, he is grunting in time with his frenzied thrusts, a hurried cadence not at all unlike techno. His powerful hands are palming my ass cheeks as his fingers squeeze my flesh, dizzying my senses with his spells and incantations. This, my friends, is further evidence that the man behind me is not Damon.

Damon doesn’t behave like this….

Before I have time to fully contemplate this notion he exits me quickly, and like a balloon losing its air, I feel the sudden emptiness, a void where he once existed, and I’m left twitching like a junkie, longing for one more delicious fix, if just for a fleeting moment more.

I find we are moving again, my fingernails scraping against the wall as my captor leads me toward my next surprise. I am calling out Damon’s name and yelling for my abductor to slow down, panting as my words catch in my throat, but my shouts go unheeded. We slow, I hear my captor whisper a single word that becomes a command: “Step,” and I am climbing once again. Before long, we reach a landing and take a sharp turn to the right. I am breathing heavily from the exertion—both sexual and physical. Then another set of stairs presents itself and I am forced to climb. I choose this moment to pause stubbornly, pulling back on my captor’s arm, demanding to know where I’m being led. Simultaneously I reach for my blindfold, but my hand is slapped away.

The nighttime air hits me without warning. We are outside; I can feel a light gentle breeze on my skin. I hear sounds—the din of the distant evening traffic, muted conversations, an occasional honk or blaring of music from a car stereo as someone passes by. And something else—I hear water. Running water. I turn my head toward the source as I’m led forward.

“’Bout time,” a female voice says. “I was beginning to wonder.”

The voice is familiar, but I can’t place it.

“Just warming her up for ya,” the guy with the sexy tenor responds.

“Yeah? Well bring her on over.”

The sound of running water is louder as we move farther into the nighttime air.

“Watch yourself,” the male voice says, taking my arms and placing them down in front of me on cold concrete. Flecks of water spatter against my face. Instinctively, I straighten up, but he is there behind me, blocking my exit. His hands are tracing slow circular patterns along my dress from the middle of my back to my ass, and his touch is magnetic. I feel a shiver as it traverses my spine. A pair of hands grasp my head and gently pull me forward.

“Come to mama,” the female voice intones.

Before I can respond my nose brushes against coarse hair. My face is tilted upward, guided by soft hands, and I inhale the scent of a woman. My heart is racing and my arms are trembling. I place them on the cool cement for support as I feel cool drops of water against my forearms. There are so many thoughts flowing through my head at this moment. Everything is happening so fast. I try to ascertain my surroundings: the sound and feel of running water, cool cement, distant automobile sounds, this female who is hauntingly familiar, but then all of that fades to oblivion as I am guided to this woman’s pussy.

Her lips brush against mine. I feel the rise of her flesh. It is warm on my mouth and I slowly, almost imperceptibly, move my head to the right so that I can feel her along the length of my lips. When I lose contact, I retreat the way I came, this time parting my lips as I take in a deep breath, swallowing her womanly scent, and taste a woman for the very first time.

The first thing I notice is that her vulva is soft and smooth. I run my tongue upward along the shaft of her lips; like a flower they part, revealing sweet nectar within. She gasps as I taste her. I take my time, letting her sap coat the tip of my tongue, glazing me with its flavor before it disappears into my mouth as I swallow it down. From behind me, my lover has raised my dress; I part my legs automatically and in one fluid motion he stuffs his beast within me. The movement thrusts me forward. My tongue, which had been darting teasingly between the soft folds of her sex as if playing hide-and-seek, is suddenly thrust deep into her waiting canal. She grips my head tightly as I feel her thighs surround my shoulders. I exhale forcefully and groan against her cunt as I’m being pummeled from behind, my palms pressing into concrete, the sound of rushing water intoxicating, the gentle breeze setting my dress and hair in motion as cool drops splatter against my hot skin.