Z-Rated (Chocolate Flava 3)

n her bum, dousing her chute with heated semen.

She felt the searing spray of cum against her bowels five times; the man’s sawing, shooting cock filling her to bursting.

But she didn’t come herself.

They briefly lay together afterward, Leonard’s flaccid dong spooning between Vanessa’s legs.

“You think you got ‘room’ for me here?” He laughed, kissing the soft skin of her long, slender neck. “Now that you know who I am?”

“Get out,” Vanessa responded, shocking the presumptuous little big man right down to his softened penis.

She still had a number of bathhouses, escort agencies, and strip clubs to visit that evening. Because for her, bigger wasn’t better; it was only the beginning.

Choices

Tenille Brown

Adrienne was nervous, although she knew she had no reason to be. It wasn’t like she had a problem eating alone, but eating alone hadn’t been the plan.

Adrienne was a woman who worked hard and liked treating herself and, tonight, she had planned on treating herself to an orgasm. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but how she had come to this point—well, that was new.

His name was Darrell and she met him on some website where you posted your pictures and talked all day about what you were doing, what you were wearing, and whatnot.

One day he flirted, and Adrienne bit.

Sure, the social networking thing was a new venture, and maybe she should have thought twice about it, but she had been careful.

There had been an entire two months of exchanges between them. Two months of chatting, emailing, and talking on the phone. Two months of sexting and sending each other naughty pictures. And eventually, there was phone sex at one in the morning.

Adrienne thought they were clear on what they both wanted.

She knew she was.

But now, sitting alone at the table in a far corner of the room, she tried to remember if anything she had said or done had led Darrell to believe she wanted more; if she had somehow exuded desperation when she thought she was being coy and flirty.

Adrienne looked around the dimly lit restaurant. She was beyond restless. And the waiting was breaking down her confidence minute by minute.

Couples came in and went out as Adrienne sat there, waiting.

And maybe it was the waiting, the posing with her clasped hands propped beneath her chin, the polite smile and subsequent “no” every time the waiter came by to ask if she wanted to go ahead and order, that made her so aware of her solitude.

She’d given Darrell a thirty-minute grace period because, after all, she was a little early herself. But at nine-fifteen, a full hour and a half after their agreed meeting time, Adrienne was fed up.

She was looking around her and eyeing the door, trying to plot a graceful, yet subtle exit; something hard to do in a crowded restaurant, dimly lit or not.

And there was also the matter of the vacant room upstairs.

When she had gone up to take a look at it earlier, it was every bit what she had imagined it would be—a king-sized bed, a whirlpool in the center of the room with enough room for two, a balcony with a view of the city.

There was expensive champagne in a bucket full of ice with a flute on either side—her added touch. And lavender-scented spray on the crisp white sheets—her touch as well.

Now Adrienne cursed herself for having been so forward, for assuming things were going to go so well between her and Darrell that the natural progression would be to hightail it upstairs to a room rented for the night. Even though they had discussed it prior. They had talked thoroughly about how Adrienne would be all kinds of naughty for him and Darrell would worship her body until she could no longer stand it.

Maybe Adrienne had scared him off.

Maybe Darrell really wasn’t used to a woman so forward, even though he had given her the impression that he was. He had said he liked a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it.

And go for it Adrienne did, dropping nearly three hundred dollars on a suite in a posh Chicago hotel.