Those tantalizing words ooze from her mouth and enter my psyche, shooting orgasmic pulses through my entire being, finally landing at the tip of my length, where it releases my juices as I hunger for her even more.
“Let me see that pretty pussy, please, baby.”
Tia lies down on her back, and the fine hairs are just starting to grow back on her pussy, and her lips, now swollen with desire, beg silently for me.
“Spread it real nasty for me.”
Like Moses parted the Red Sea, so does she, for me. The sweetest thing I’ve ever known.
“Oh, Tre’. Baby, I have to . . .”
HER . . .
He interrupts by placing his tongue in my mouth. I can still smell my pussy on his breath. With sticky, cum-stained lips, he nibbles my lips gently and licks and bites my neck. Grabbing a deliciously treacherous hold of my breast, Tre’ sucks on my nipple, tugging at it until it reaches its firmness.
I’m almost afraid of what he has planned next, but my fear is overcome by the thought of him having his way with me, again. Tre’ licks his lips and reaches down to his manhood. He strokes it with his hand, but not for long. He needs to be inside me and I need him to be there as well. Stepping back, he lines his dick up for the perfect position to enter me and with one forceful thrust he gives it all to me deeply. Deliciously. Divinely.
I can almost hear the sound of my cherry popping once more when I go back in time, when he was my first, and I was his. The origin of our dance. The root of this beautiful evil.
“Tia, oh baby, damn, your pussy is so sweet.” Tre’ keeps his eyes glued on his erection sliding in and out of me and the more he watches his body in motion, the slower he goes. With each thrust, he gets deeper and deeper inside of me. He pins me to the floor. I can’t move. I don’t want to. It hurts so good. He’s got me wide open, dripping wet, and about to cum all over him. I feel as if I am going to explode, if I don’t go crazy first.
Trying to hold it all in for fear that someone may hear the sounds of our lovemaking, I bite my lip. I don’t want to arouse him any further. Tre’ comes in closer to my ear. “Tia, don’t give this pussy to anybody else. This is my pussy. You belong to me, Tia.”
I exhale deeply, preparing to respond, hoping that the words will come out of my mouth. “I’m all yours, Tre’.” He picks up speed, still watching as he goes in and out of me. He’s talking that good shit to me, moaning and sucking any and every thing he can get his mouth on. With one hand he caresses my nipples; the other hand slithers down to my ass elevating me slightly from the waist down. He grabs hold of my ass cheek and squeezes it firmly as he pounds into me harder and deeper. I can’t help myself, I’m there, I’m seconds from cumming and he knows it. I guess he knows his pussy so well.
“Ahh, Tia, yes, that’s a good girl; cum all over your dick. This is your dick, Tia, cum all over it, baby.”
Without warning, and yet on cue, I cry out to Tre’ as he gives me the hardest climax, matched with the deepest dick pounding I’ve ever had in my life. With one of his final blows, he delves into me, and whispers,
“I love you, Tia.”
As a single tear emerges from Tre’s eye, I feel exactly what lies deep in his heart; that we’ve come to the end of our favorite nightmare on the other side of midnight.
“Just close your eyes and I’ll always be right there.”
Tammy’s Seminar
Jeremy Edwards
If I hadn’t paused to glance at the headlines on the house copy of the Miami Herald, I wouldn’t have seen Ellen Sanderson walk by the deli.
I hadn’t set eyes on her since she’d entered a doctoral program up north. And it looked like Boston had been kind to Ellen. She seemed more self-assured, more radiantly intellectual, and more sexually desirable than ever. Her skin looked smooth as silk, and the peach-colored shorts she’d chosen to wear begged a comparison with the aforementioned fruit. She looked, in a word, delectable.
There’d been a time, not that long before, when I knew almost everybody in the friendly little African-American neighborhood that was my heritage. But I’d been living most of the past few years around the university, and these days I noticed new faces whenever I came back to this part of town. Still, it was surprising to see Ellen here, of all places. I knew for a fact that her family lived in a similar neighborhood, but all the way on the other side of the metropolis.
She stopped temporarily at the corner, still in view, where she waited for the light to change. The day was already warming up and, my imagination being one of my strong points, I imagined the thermal energy of Ellen’s pussy sizzling in her little shorts as she walked around in the Miami heat. And I could also readily visualize her pulling her shorts and panties down later, in the air-conditioned cool of some private space. The nested garments, I decided, would descend in one piece, and Ellen would reach in to feel her sticky-sweet juncture, letting the aroma of her frisky honey filter into the room.
She moved on, and I forced myself out of the reverie, which I knew I’d return to in time. I permitted my incipient erection to stagnate, then dwindle, leaving me with a characteristic drop of precum to stain my briefs and lick at my skin. It was a sensation I always relished, in part because it made me feel I was tasting a hint of what a woman feels when she’s horny and holds the thought . . . gliding through the next phase of her day with a bit of clingy wetness as a reminder. Letting her juice bookmark her appetite. I reflexively imagined Ellen experiencing all of that, and my cock re-hardened a notch before I successfully focused my attention on the newspaper.
With headlines scanned and peach now long out of frame, I turned toward the cash register.
The bratty-cute breakfast wrangler behind the counter smirked at me. She wore it well. Perhaps it was just my general randiness that morning, but I couldn’t help thinking that if this had been midnight at the nu-jazz club rather than nine a.m. in an empty, brightly lit eatery, I might have had something to say for myself.
“What would you like? Besides her, I mean.”
Despite having been forewarned by the impish affect, I was taken aback. But I did my best to play it cool, feigning polite confusion. “Her?”
“Gonna make me spell it, huh?” The imp nodded toward the window. “That tall woman with the nice ass.”