Z-Rated (Chocolate Flava 3)

“I don’t remember you looking this tight,” I said.

“I started getting more in shape a few months back, doing crunches, sit-ups, liftin’ weights. I lost weight when I started playing football. I don’t eat fast food or fried food. I don’t drink sodas and if I drink juice, I get somethin’ with not a lot of sugar and shit.”

“That’s what I’ve started doin’. My problem is snacks and eating late at night when I can’t burn it off.”

“I’ve always liked big girls.” Brandon chose his words carefully so I wouldn’t take offense.

He took the bottle of beer and began rolling it against his chest. Did he know what he was doing to me?

“You want another beer?” He got up to head for the fridge. I was still nursing on the first one he gave me, which had turned warm.

“Don’t try to get me drunk,” I teased.

“I’m not, just tryin’ to loosen you up. I know there’s a wild girl in there somewhere.”

Brandon plucked two more beers out of the fridge, popped off the tops, and handed one to me. His skinny, pussy-fucking fingers grazed against mine in the handoff.

“If I get drunk, work is the last place my ass is going.”

Brandon smiled like he had gotten the best of me. “That’s the idea.”

I could see a little pup tent in his shorts. I played it off like I wasn’t interested. “I need to get going. It’s really getting late.”

I took a long final drink and sat the empty bottle on the desk.

“So you just going to leave me here with blue balls?” Brandon started tugging at his dick again. The tips of my fingers tingled. I watched him as he rubbed his hard-on through his shorts. “Don’t even act like you don’t want this, girl.”

I didn’t say a word, but smiled, dropped to my knees between his legs, unzipped those baggy shorts, reached through the slit of his red and white boxers, and pulled out Brandon’s dick. The thing was like a baby’s arm. I mean, he was hung like a stallion. The head of his dick was a nice cashew nut–brown while the shaft was of a nice ebony hue. I pulled his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. His balls, which weren’t as big, sat in his lap like a dime bag. I brought the head of his meaty dick to my mouth and eased it past my lips, making them tight around the dick head and shaft. This was it; the thing I had fantasized about during morning masturbation sessions. Here he was, sprawled out on his bed like a birthday gift. I looked up at Brandon as I sucked. I wanted him to see how I looked with his dick in my mouth. Guys like that kinda shit.

“Damn, girl!”

I slid down until his whole dick was in my mouth. His pubes itched my nose. I started to feel Brandon’s hands creeping behind the back of my neck, then up behind my head, pressing it down on his pole.

“LaDarien told me you could suck a mean dick.”

What? That muthafucka told? I don’t know why I was surprised. Those two are thick as thieves. Brandon was not forceful like most brothers I’ve been with who just want to hold my head down on their dicks, trying to choke me or some shit. It’s like they forget there’s a person attached to the mouth that’s blowing them. I acted like I was making love to Brandon’s dick. When I reached up and started playing with his balls, he went bananas. I could feel his dick ballooning in my mouth. I hugged it hard with lips and tongue.

“Oh, damn!”

As I blew him, I heard the door creak. My eyes met the sound. Brandon continued to lie there, so obviously he heard nothing. He had forgotten to lock the door. I couldn’t make out who was standing there, but I liked that one of his frat brothers was watching me. I’m sure had Brandon known, he would have gone ape-shit. I put on a show by starting to moan. I pulled off Brandon’s shoes, slipped his shorts and boxers off to the floor from his socked feet. The covers bunched beneath him as he slid up into the bed, his dick wet from my mouth.

“You got some condoms?” I asked.

Brandon got out of bed, walked to his desk, and got a couple of rubbers. I could feel the stranger’s eyes on me, watching me get undressed, my titties exposed, my pussy in his vision. Brandon tore open the cellophane, took out the lubricated latex, and rolled it slowly onto the head of his dick, down his hard shaft. Brandon’s dick jutted out from his lithe, molasses-brown physique. The tips of his fingers were greasy from the lubricant. I lay on my back.

“I like it doggy-style,” Brandon said. I really didn’t care what position I was in. I wanted Brandon to fuck my brains out.

Whoever was watching was cool about keeping quiet. It had not occurred to Brandon to check whether the door was locked. I felt his fingers pulling at my ass; cool air kissed my pussy lips. Brandon started to press hard against me. I could feel the blunt crown of his dick sliding slowly in my coochie. I looked to the Peeping Tom at the door as Brandon slid slowly inside me, filling me with his manhood. I could feel his washboard stomach graze against my ass. He held on hard to my hips as he thrust. I groaned softly, staring directly at the stranger as Brandon dicked me down.

I wanted him to stumble in and pretend to be surprised, say something stupid like, “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” You know, play it out like it was some kind of porn movie. I didn’t give a damn if it was one or one hundred frat boys standing there.

“Take it deep!” I said.

Brandon’s hands were hard and warm as he squeezed my titties, running his fingers along my nipples. I could make out the guy in the doorway grabbing at himself, his hand caressing the tent in his shorts. I leaned back against Brandon’s dick as he slid it steady in my pussy.

“You like that dick, girl?”

I rode Brandon’s dick slow. My pussy devoured inch after inch as I looked at the horned-up frat boy looking in at us. I imagined the whole house assembled outside Brandon’s room, men of all heights, weights, and dick sizes waiting anxiously to “freak” me.