Shattering the Myth

by Zane

  One man after another took the stage and did his thing. I must say there is no way any woman who even remotely loves herself some dick wouldn’t be drowning in her own pussy juice up in the Black Screw. There was a stage right smack in the middle of the club, like a boxing ring in the middle of an arena, with tables surrounding all four sides of it so all the women could get a little look-see. In addition, there were circular risers in the four corners of the club with male dancers, who had already performed and taken it all off, on them getting mad freaky. I’m telling you, the shit was all that! They were so naked the only place they could put the dollars women tipped them was in their boots. I noticed they were all wearing some sort of boots, mostly cowboy ones. Cash-and-carry, I suppose.

  As much as I loved it, it was getting pretty late. Two A.M. was rolling around, and the wedding was at noon sharp. I told the gurls we should bounce and thanks for taking me there. My maid of honor, Shari, told me the party wasn’t over and then called the fine waiter over and whispered something in his ear. I sat there nervous as all hell because I figured they were planning on having some guy come over to the table and freak me or something. I had managed to keep my hands to myself all night, even though the temptation was killing me.

  About five minutes later, the waiter returned with three other waiters and a cake. While our waiter set the cake—which, by the way, was chocolate and shaped like a huge dick—on the table, the other three clapped and recited some rehearsed congrats-on-your-wedding verse. I was relieved that the cake was the surprise and loosened up a bit.

  My relief turned to panic when the finest guy in the place walked up to me. If Mother Nature made anything better, she kept him for her dayum self, because the man was hitting. He was about six-foot-four tall, 210 or 215 pounds, dark-skinned, with jet-black curly hair and deep brown eyes. He stood out in the club because he was clothed with stonewashed wide-legged jeans, a suede vest, and of course, cowboy boots.

  He leaned over the table, reached for my hand, and I was likely to faint. Shari told me, “You better get your ass up!” I asked her, “What the fuck is going on?” She replied, “Just a little something extra I have planned for you! This is your last night of freedom. Now, GET THE FUCK UP!”

  You could tell from the expression on her face that she could barely prevent herself from breaking out into a full grin. I was drunk, and his hand was still reaching out for me. I threw caution to the wind and took it.

  A couple of minutes later, he and I walked through a set of double doors into the rear of the Black Screw. He had yet to say a word to me. I figured Shari had paid him to give me a private dance, sort of like a male lap dance. To be honest, I was still nervous as shit, though. If he had been just average, cute, or even remotely fine, I would have had no problem whatsoever. The problem was, he was past all those, and I was tore up. My pussy was throbbing and shit for him just by the hand-holding alone. I was getting the distinct feeling my ass might get in some serious trouble once he did his little show. I should have stopped it right then. I should have told him I felt uncomfortable and was about to rejoin my friends so we could leave. But I didn’t, and before I knew it, we reached our final destination.

  There was a long hallway in the back of the club with several rooms. All the rooms had neon signs over the doorways. He led me to one called “The Red Light District” and held the door open for me to go in.

  The room was dimly lit with red lightbulbs, and there was a slow jam playing. Much to my surprise, there were four couches in the room, one on each wall, and two of them were occupied. I tried to pull my hand loose after I saw what was going on in the room, but he held onto it tightly and spoke to me for the first time: “Don’t run away, baby. At least let me do my dance for you. Don’t worry about them!”

  He had the deepest, sexiest voice, and when he looked at me with them there eyes, I was at his beck and call. So, I didn’t worry about them and went and sat on the couch farthest from the door while he walked over to the compact shelf stereo system and changed the CD. Them referred to the two other female customers in the room with male dancers. There was absolutely no dancing going on, and when my private dancer was putting on his performance music, I could hear them moaning and shit. Not to mention the fucking and sucking noises.

  You see, one sister was over on the couch by the door, and her ankles were pressed up over her shoulders while a big, mandingo-looking brother was fucking the shit out of her. The other was not quite as bad. However, she was sitting on the couch on the left wall sucking another brother’s dick like a Hoover vacuum cleaner. Apparently, the lap dances they received were slamming, because they were all about knocking boots.

  All sort of shit started going through my mind faster than the speed of light. I know I should have been thinking about my baby, my boo, my husband-to-be, but he never crossed my mind. In fact, looking back on it now, I don’t feel guilty because I know about all the shit that goes on at bachelor parties. His ass probably fucked some hoochie that night too.

  He put on his music, “My Body” by LSG, and began his dance. He told me, “My name’s Warren, by the way. What’s yours?” I told him, “My name’s Mira,” as he began to do his thing, grinding all in my face while I sat there on the couch with a serious case of locked knees.

  Warren slowly removed his vest, and like I had suspected, he was perfect. I tried to keep my eyes fixed on him, but it was hard with all the other shit going on. The other two couples had done some shifting, and the one who had been sucking dick was now bent over getting fucked doggy-style. The other one, who previously was shaped like a pretzel, was now in the sixty-nine position getting her freak on.

  I began to feel light-headed as Warren started to break out of his jeans. I recuperated fast when I saw his dick protruding out his black thong bikini. Just like I like them: big, long, thick, and chocolate. That was the very moment I knew I was gonna fuck him if he was down. Judging by the way he was looking at me, I suspected he was.

  Warren confirmed my suspicions when, once naked, he knelt down and pried my knees open with his strong hands, exposing the black lace panties I was wearing underneath my black knee-length skirt. I wore no stockings with my heels because it was midsummer and extremely hot out, so it was easy for Warren to run his fingers all over my smooth, creamy thighs. He began to kiss my kneecaps. All I could do was look, being I was overcome by a desire I had never known, a desire to make love to a complete stranger. A desire, it appeared, I was destined to fulfill the night before I married the man of my dreams.

  That is exactly what I did. I fulfilled the desire to make love to a stranger, and I have not regretted it a moment since. In fact, I think the night with Warren has significantly helped my married life. I know that sounds sick, but I was able to open up more sexually with him than I could previously do with my boo. Because of the events of that one night, I have become a much better lover for my man.

  Warren started running his tongue up and down the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs wider with his hands. My pussy was soaked by that time. He pushed me back on the couch, so I was lying down, pulled my panties off, and then lifted one of my legs up so it was resting on the headrest of the couch.

  He wasted no time getting his eat on with my pussy as the main course. I thought I had died and gone to heaven because I came like crazy. The wild part is that I didn’t even give a fuck what the other people in the room were doing. That’s totally uncharacteristic of me, because I tend to be very inhibited. At least, I was before that night.

  His warm, thick tongue played magnificent tricks within my pussy walls, and I got lost in the music and the red lights while he did the thing he does so well. He reached up, with his head still buried between my thighs, and caressed my tender breasts through the white poplin-sleeve blouse I was wearing with the black skirt. I took the initiative, unbuttoned it for him, and unfastened the clasp in the front of my bra, letting my hard nipples escape their prison.

  Warren moved his tongue from my pussy, o
ver the material of my skirt, which was up around my waist at the time, and started sucking on my nipples. I went fucking berserk. I’m not sure whether it was the liquor or the fine-ass nucca licking me all over, but I just kept cumming and cumming.

  I’m not sure when the other couples got up and left the room. I didn’t see them because I was too busy sucking Warren’s dick, which was, by the way, extremely pleasing to my taste buds. I sucked him so good he exploded in my mouth twice before we moved on to the main event—the main event being knocking boots.

  The man fucked me every which way but upside down. If time had permitted, we probably would have gotten to that position eventually. I needed about three days to fuck him the right way. Instead, I only had about three hours. We made good use of them, though, and he tore my coochie-coo up. He gave a whole new meaning to the phrase “dick-whipped.”

  Never before, or since, have I ever begged a man to stop fucking me because it was too much for me, but I begged his ass to stop grinding his dick into me in such a fashion. Warren didn’t let up, though, and ended up giving me the fuck of a lifetime.

  When I rejoined my friends, after quite some time, they were about the only ones left in the entire club. Some of the gurls had left already. The only ones remaining were the ones I was riding with, including Shari, my maid of honor. They were all laughing and grinning at me. I didn’t even attempt to fake the funk because there was no way they would have believed I had been back there talking for the past three hours plus.

  I did the next best thing and told them all about it on the way home in the car, blow by mother-fucking blow, and they were all ears, probably envisioning every second of it the way I related the story to them.

  By the time we got back to my hotel suite, the sun was coming up over the horizon. I only had an hour to get to my hair appointment, so I showered and dressed and headed for the land of hot-ass hair dryers and curling irons. At noon on the dot, I walked down the aisle of the church I had attended since I was baptized in it and married my boo.

  I exchanged vows with him and meant every word of them. I love him dearly and would never forsake him for another man again. Like I said earlier, though, I think the night with Warren improved my bedroom skills, and therefore has helped keep my marriage together. My boo thought he was marrying his shy, conservative baby, but on our wedding night, he found out he married a sexual diva.

  I can’t say for sure what men do at bachelor parties, but I can say this. Any woman who has her bachelorette party at the Black Screw is in for one hell of a great time!

  Sweet Revenge

  He was sitting all alone by the fireplace in the great room when I arrived. It was a cold, windy night. I used the key she keeps under the welcome mat by the garage door to let myself in. I knew he would be alone. She called me at my office earlier in the day and told me she was leaving town on a business trip that afternoon.

  I knew it was then or never before I lost the nerve to do it altogether. I decided to go through with the plans I had constructed over and over again in my mind. I wasn’t sure whether or not he would go for it. There had been signals here and there—glances, smiles, body language—but I still wasn’t sure. If he wasn’t a willing subject, my plan could never work. I crossed my fingers and went for it anyway.

  There he was sitting by the fireplace, sipping on some expensive cognac and listening to classical music, his favorite. He didn’t even hear me come in. Once I saw him, I started to hurry back out the same way I came, but it was then or never. So I spoke. He was startled to turn around and see me standing there. I told him I used the key to let myself in and I hoped he didn’t mind. He told me she was out of town. I made him aware I knew that already. That I was there to see him, not her.

  He asked me was something wrong, and I replied, “Not at all!” Then a dead silence fell over the room as one CD track ended and another began. I looked at him, he looked at me, and I think he got the point right away. If he didn’t get it then, I’m sure he got it once I removed my trench coat, letting it fall to the floor, revealing my nude body clad only in high heels.

  There was a brief moment when I thought he was going to curse at me, tell me to get the hell out of his home, call her at whatever hotel she was staying, and tell her the whole sordid story, making sure her love for me would turn to hatred in a heartbeat.

  However, none of it happened that way. Instead, he got up from the fireplace hearth and walked over to me. The look of astonishment on his face turned to lust as he made the first move, saving me the trouble. He kissed me very lovingly, like an old lover who had just returned home from overseas. He and I had known each other for years, but it was time to take it to another level.

  I pulled the cable-knit sweater he was wearing up over his head, removing it and letting my hands gain the freedom to explore his massive chest. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and dug my fingers into his breasts. Our kisses gained momentum as he picked me up, carried me up the stairwell to the master bedroom, their bedroom. Once inside, he laid me on their bed, and I watched as he removed his jeans and silk boxers.

  There were no words, and that was just as well, because I had no clue what to say at such a moment. My reasons for coming there had been clear-cut, but once he laid his hands on me, other reasons for doing it came into play, such as passion, yearning, and lust.

  He lay on top of me, pressed my arms up over my head, and began to drown me with his sweet tongue. When he moved down to my neck and then my breasts, I held onto the headboard of their iron canopy bed with both hands. That made my hard nipples even more prominent and manageable to suck.

  He licked all around my breasts, starting from the bottom and going all the way to the top like he was licking an ice cream cone. His tongue was nothing short of magical as he used the tip of his tongue to trace a line down the center of my stomach to my belly button.

  I pulled his head back up to mine, after letting go of the headboard, because I yearned for more of his passionate kisses. I caressed his dick, feeling it grow to massive proportions as he and I both moaned with delight. I grabbed his ass cheeks, one in each hand, and helped guide his dick inside my hot, awaiting pussy. It welcomed him with much enthusiasm.

  I held onto an ass cheek with one hand and retook hold of the iron headboard with the other while he fucked me harder and harder. All we could do was look each other in the eyes, visually confirming that the lovemaking was what we both wanted.

  I never expected it to be like that. I thought he and I would have a rough little quickie, and then I would leave and go about my business after about fifteen minutes or so. At that point, it became clear we were going to go at it all night long. He came inside me, and the flow of hot cum shooting up my pussy caused a chain reaction. I came a few seconds later.

  He rested on top of me for a moment, both of us breathing heavy and savoring the fruit of our labors, before he lay on his back beside me. Their bedroom ceiling is covered with mirrors, so we could look at each other without actually facing one another. I didn’t know whether the look on his face was one of guilt, confusion, or happiness.

  A few moments later, after moving down some on the bed, I leaned over him and began suckling on his dick. The added seasoning of my pussy on his dick was thrilling to my senses, and I couldn’t get enough of it. It was like having the best of both worlds, the pussy I was eating being my own. He put his hands behind his head and reveled in the penis massage I was performing with my warm mouth. I wouldn’t stop until he came in my mouth. The reward was well worth the effort.

  Afterward, he told me to turn over on my stomach. He left the bed for a few seconds to retrieve a bottle of lubricant from the master bathroom. Upon his return, he took his fingers and rubbed it all up and down my ass and his dick. He finger-fucked my ass for a few moments, probably to judge my reaction and figure out whether anal sex was my sort of thing or not. I moaned with delight, so he knew the deal.

  As I laid there on my stomach, with his dick grinding in and out m
y ass, screaming and holding onto the headboard for dear life, I wondered what she would say at that very moment if she walked in. Half of me wished she would return from her trip early and catch us in the act. However, that was not part of the plan.

  He exploded in my ass. It was a wonderful feeling. We fell asleep just like that, with his dick in my ass, and we slept for a few hours. He woke me up by ass-fucking me again, since his dick had hardened once more while he was sleeping.

  We took a long, hot bath together. I rode his dick till we both came as the bubbles tingled against our skin. A few words began to exchange between us, but not many. We both knew it was wrong to be together in such a way. Neither one of us was about to put a stop to it, though.

  Unfortunately, it had to end. She may have been out of town, but my husband wasn’t, so I had to leave him there, naked, dazed, and confused. I needed to rush home and make up a lie about my whereabouts. That’s exactly what I did. If by some chance my husband chose not to believe me, it wouldn’t have come as a big surprise. Most cheaters think their spouses are cheating too.

  You see, there was more than just my whereabouts that particular evening my husband was unaware of. He was unaware I had walked into his office two weeks earlier while he was fucking my best friend on his desk. He was unaware that I paid both their asses back in spades by letting myself into her house and fucking her husband.

  It is true what they say. What goes around really does come around. In my case, the revenge was oh so sweet, and so was the dick.

  Blind Date

  The whole idea was strange right from the onset, but I told myself that once I hit thirty, I was going to take that sexual-prime theory to heart and let go of all my inhibitions. So when my friend Tamlyn told me about this guy she knew who was into all kinds of kinky eroticism, I asked her to hook me up, and she did.