Succulent (Chocolate Flava 2)

He looked mighty sil

ly doing what I asked, and I wasn’t even quite sure where I was coming from with it. I simply wanted to see if he would do it.

I grabbed his dick and jerked and pulled and tickled his ass with my other hand, and sure enough, he was hard again within minutes.

“Now let Mommy show you how it’s really done.”

I drew his balls into my mouth first and sucked on them like a couple of gumballs. His dick got harder. I licked the pre-cum out of the head of his dick and then teased him: sucking the head, blowing on it, then sucking it again.

“I’m about to cum,” he whispered.

“You better not cum yet or Mommy will spank you!” I chastised him. “You’re a bad boy and you better not cum until I tell you to cum. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“That’s better!”

For nearly three hours, I brought Devain to the brink of ejaculating and then made him stop. I did spank him. He loved it. I bit his dick, and while he seemed shocked at first, he ended up asking for me to do it some more.

I have to be honest. I used to wonder how men could go out and pick up total strangers and fuck them. Then it dawned on me that the strangers were women who were doing the same damn thing. Now I was “one of them,” and in truth being in that hotel room with Devain, a stranger, was the ultimate turn-on.

I eventually gave him some pussy that night, but he was so worn-out from my dick-sucking that he could barely move. I ended up doing all the work by getting on top. That was an empowering experience as well.

After that night, I started hanging out at clubs near local universities to increase my odds of meeting younger men. Livingstone College in Salisbury, Johnson C. Smith in Charlotte, and Barber-Scotia in Concord were all “hot spots.” In a graduate dormitory at Johnson C. Smith I decided to test the Big Bang Theory with three men working on their master’s. I met them all at the same time and asked them to all work on mastering me. One of them seemed reluctant at first but then fell victim to peer pressure and ended up fucking me harder than the other two put together.

Yes, I am a cougar. All you younger women out there who want to pretend like your pussies are lined with gold, you better watch out. Not only do you have to compete with women your age for men your age, you also have to compete with me. I make no apologies and I take no prisoners, but look at it this way. The more men that I educate on the art of pleasuring women, the more men will be better husbands. You can marry them and birth the babies; I just want to borrow them for a little while. If any young men are out there looking for an older woman to rock your world, hit me up on MySpace. I am easy enough to find, if you look in the right place.

Come See Me

Zane

Do not get me wrong. I love money. I love making money. I love spending money. I especially love spending other people’s money more than I love spending my own. That was one of the reasons that I decided that I did not mind doing event planning for the large corporation that I had worked for over the past six years. The opening came up and was a chance for me to get out of the office and stop sitting behind a desk. It was a dream job for me, planning meetings, trips, and conventions for top clients. My expense account was practically limitless. All of it was a tax write-off for the corporation.

I rented a pirate ship once in the Baltimore harbor for twelve dinner guests. It had cost a pretty penny but everyone had fun and I got all the praise. I had a wine-tasting at the embassy of Croatia and had the wine critic from the Washington Post teach everyone how to tell good wine from bad. I had organized a dinner at a restaurant that served emus, and everyone was so tickled and enjoyed eating the unusual bird. I had done a little bit of this and a little bit of that. However, like all good things, my happiness came to an end.

My job began to get a little stressful. The one thing that I had not counted on was the attitudes from some of the people who were being wined and dined. A lot of them felt like they were better than everyone else. They started talking down to me, like I was their servant. I did not appreciate that shit at all.

The two brothers who owned the corporation decided that they wanted to plan a trip to the Bahamas for ten of their top clients and their respective mates. I was relieved because I hoped to have a little fun in the sun once I got everyone settled. We had a lovely flight over on a private plane—for the most part, the limousines that took us to the hotel were on point, and then all hell broke loose.

The hotel was top-of-the-line but the wife of one of the men on the trip thought she was the queen of Sheba. She had this Southern drawl that drove me crazy every time she spoke my name.

“Mona, can you please get me some aspirin?”

“Mona, I need a pillow for my back. This plane seat is uncomfortable.”

“Mona, can you see about getting me a fresh cup of coffee? This tastes stale.”

“Mona, can you find out how much longer it is before we land? My head is really killing me.”

She had done all that whining on the plane, and her husband, Steven, seemed embarrassed, but he had picked her. Jill, the queen, was a straight-up trophy wife; that much was obvious. She was dumber than a doornail, but her fake boobs stuck out like a bottle of water in the desert. I did notice that the left one was higher than the right and I was dying to make a comment, but somehow managed to control myself.

Steven was a cutie. He was about five-ten, dark-skinned with a goatee and a short, cropped haircut. Actually he was my type, and I had been without sex for a couple of months since an ugly breakup. On the plane, when I had a brief opportunity to sit down between Jill’s ridiculous requests, I did embark on an intense sexual fantasy about Steven as I watched him read the Wall Street Journal. The two brothers who owned the corporation were single, but I would not have fucked either of them for bone marrow. Their arrogance was beyond belief. Steven, even though he was equally wealthy, was humble and down-to-earth.

Everyone was settled into their rooms and I was lying across the bed in my suite, looking out at the ocean, when my phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Mona, it’s Jill!”