Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4

by Zane

  All the guys on set were jealous, I’m sure; me, I was in awe of her.

  “Oh yeah, that tastes good,” she whispered. Then she held the G-string in her hand, her beautiful upturned nose delicately sniffing. “Ah, yes, what an aroma.”

  Totally nude, she walked gracefully to the white couch. She lay back against the armrest, her hair framing her face. The darkness of her skin against the starkness of the white background made her beauty even more apparent.

  The camera and I moved toward her as though one. I panned down from her face, over her luscious breasts with those dark nipples just begging for me to touch, and onward over her mound to her pussy. She had a wiry black bush. Pubic hair was growing wild over her mound. This was new; most girls loved to display themselves with a Brazilian, totally waxed and free of hair.

  I wanted to kiss her sexy mouth, to throw myself down on her gorgeous body, but that, unfortunately, was not my job. I longed to be the star in my own porno movie, but I was not one of the attractive ones.

  I focused in on her pussy, which she so kindly opened up for me. Her white fingernails roamed through her black pubic hair and into the folds and I realized why she’d painted them that way. It was as though her pussy was an entity on its own and the nails actually made it come to life, like a living breathing pulsating object, to be admired, lusted after, and of course used.

  “You like what you see?” she asked me.

  I didn’t answer, too busy making sure I’d gotten all the important bits in the shot.

  “Hey, I asked you a question. You like looking at my snatch? Look at it, take a good look, because you’ll never see another one this good again.”

  I had to agree with her on that one. She’d had her fingers inside and now brought one up to her lips, to lick, to roll her tongue around.

  “Hmm, tastes good, too.”

  In walked the star of the film we were shooting. She sauntered over to Delight, confident of her ability to perform for the camera as well and already nude. Her eyebrows rose just a fraction when she caught sight of this amazingly sexy woman who had the potential to steal her limelight.

  Delight was a smart girl. She was giving nothing away. She was there to impress and she was certainly getting our votes.

  Paula, the star, slapped Delight on the thigh before lowering herself to kneel in between those amazing legs. I moved in for a closer shot. Her tongue shot out tentatively to flicker at Delight’s clit. She showed her appreciation by moving her pelvis upward, wanting Paula’s tongue to do some more work as she stared sexily at the camera.

  “Lick that pussy, baby; lick it like you’ve never licked one before. Taste it. There’s no other pussy that tastes as good as mine,” she said as she grabbed Paula by the head and held her an inch away from it. “Can you smell it, baby? Are you enjoying my scent, hmm? Breathe it in.”

  Paula was taken aback. She was used to being the star, calling the shots. Now here was this red-hot woman, with the most amazing body anyone’s ever seen, and even though I’m sure Paula wants to pull back, make Delight beg for her, she doesn’t. Her tongue flickers out and hits her clit.

  I notice she’s making sure she’s got her body more in the shot, her face and hair hiding Delight’s delicious pussy.

  “Ah, yeah, baby, lick it. Come on,” Delight says with that silky voice.

  Paula’s head disappears between Delight’s thighs and I have trouble getting the shot, she’s nuzzling into her like I’ve never seen her do. She seems to be working hard at it, trying to take control, sucking and licking like she’s never tasted one before, like this is her first lesbian movie.

  I’m picturing myself there, naked, my body sandwiched between the two of them. How awesome would that be? My hands are all over Delight’s gorgeous breasts and I suck a nipple into my mouth, draw back on it, before gobbling as much as I can into my mouth. I’m fingering her cunt hard, her beautiful breasts jiggling, her warm brown arms reaching out to me, to pull me into her.

  Then her dark fingers are tearing at the flesh on my back, my body can only take so much, and I’m just about ready to . . .

  “Hey, whoa, back on that, baby, there’s only so much a girl can take,” Delight says as she pulls Paula’s head away, dragging her up to her breast. Paula nuzzles in, suckling like a baby hours late for a feed. She’s eyeing the camera as she does it, her body again more into the camera than the action.

  She’s putting on a good show, but inside I imagine she’s seething. Everyone in the room knows Delight’s body is the showstopper. Paula is gorgeous and has been around for years but Delight would bring something exciting into our production if she gets the job, and I’m thinking she’s a sure thing.

  “Oh, yeah, that feels sooooo good,” Delight purrs.

  The guys are all looking on as though they are wishing they were between her legs, their faces buried at her breasts. I almost laughed at their hard-ons, visible through their trousers.

  “Come on, baby,” she says, as she pulls Paula up farther, her mouth pouting, tongue flicking over her teeth, wanting Paula to kiss her mouth. Their tongues lock and she lifts her legs, wrapping them around Paula’s back.

  I’m trying hard to hang on to what I’ve been taught. Look for the best shot. The best angle. Watch the lights, shadows, etc. It’s too much for me. My pussy and emotions have a mind of their own and they want to be smothered by this amazing woman.

  The contrast of their flesh as they wrestle with each other is something to behold. Delight’s legs, wrapped around Paula’s white back, are kicking into her flesh, while pulling her in even closer.

  Sweat is pouring off Paula. I’ve never seen her work so hard. Usually it’s the others who are desperate to put on a performance better than hers but here she is desperate to be the continuing star.

  She kisses Delight deep and long, and for a second I think she’s come. She licks Delight’s chin, her eyes, cheeks, and then smashes her mouth into hers. I can just see her tongue, slipping all over Delight’s mouth. Licking her cheeks, her eyes, ears, throat, and then back down to those amazing jugs.

  It’s one of the most passionate kisses I’ve ever seen on film.

  “That’s enough now,” Delight says, pushing Paula away from her.

  “What . . . hey . . . I make the decisions,” Paula said, trying to regain some composure.

  “I’m sure you usually do,” she purred, “but this is my audition and I think I have every right to make sure they’re appreciating the exhibition I hoped to show.”

  “Huh,” Paula says, staring over at John.

  I’ve never seen John like this. He’s floundering like a fish out of water. He’s got his cock out, stroking it, and it looks like it’s about to explode. I should know. Hell, I’m his cameraman; I’ve seen him interview many women, but not like this. He stumbles over to Paula, his cock jutting forward, leading the way.

  “I think I’d better have a look at what you’ve got there,” he says, coming between her legs.

  “Yeah, sure, baby,” she says. She’s not stupid; she knows who signs the checks.

  Paula smacks her pussy hard, enjoying the sensation as John looks on. “Bring it here, baby, and you’ll never want another pussy again.”

  He laps at her, licking long and hard from her hole all the way up to her clit. He lingers over it, sucking and licking, his cock growing bigger by the second.

  I didn’t want to do anything to break the mood. They seemed to be in a world of their own. I zoomed in instead of actually coming closer, not wanting to distract them from their lovemaking. This wasn’t just fucking, it was something more, something I’ve never witnessed between two people.

  He looks up at her, his face covered in her juices. Scrambling up her body, he thrusts himself into her as his tongue seeks out her mouth. They fuck on and on, sweat pouring off both of them. The guys and I watch, every one of them has a hard-on; we’re all dumbfounded by this spectacle.

  In the meantime, Delight is appalled at what is going on
during her audition. She finds her clothes and dresses quickly. “Excuse me,” she says, making to leave.

  “What?” John was so caught up in Paula, he’d lost direction of what he was supposed to be doing, which was of course making sure he signed Delight to a contract.

  Paula’s plump butt grinds into John and her tits are practically resting on the couch. John tries to lower his hand down to grope one, but they’re swaying back and forth under his pounding.

  “I’m leaving,” Delight says angrily.

  I’ve stopped taping John and Paula and am now focused on Delight, who is angry, standing at the edge of the couch, staring down at the two of them.

  “Wait,” John says, reluctant to leave Paula.

  Paula pushes back into John. She peers back over her shoulder and I catch the look, the look of entrapment. She’s snared him and she knows it. John is of two minds on what to do and takes no time in coming.

  “You’re disgusting,” Delight says to John. “I wouldn’t work for you if you paid me a fortune.”

  “Wait,” John says. “I want you to be the new star in our movie.”

  “What?” Paula jumps up angrily.

  Prime Piece of Property

  Nadia

  I am sitting here with my husband and this real estate agent trying to negotiate a price for this beautiful house, but I can’t stop my pussy from pulsating at just the thought of fucking the shit out of this agent.

  My husband and I have what most people would consider an ideal marriage: nice house with the picket fence, expensive cars, excellent careers, a set of beautiful twin girls, and even a great sex life, so why in the hell am I sitting here flooding like the Mississippi River from just being in this stranger’s presence? This agent is picture-perfect, though—he has skin the color of milk chocolate, a baritone voice that would put the Allstate insurance guy to shame, a nicely shaped bald head, and a well-groomed goatee. Fuck, if my husband wasn’t sitting here with us, Mr. Milk Chocolate and I would probably be screwing on his mahogany desk by now.

  Having these types of thoughts running through my head was unlike me because I had never been this type of woman. A year and a half ago my husband decided he wanted to cheat on me with the water girl down at the gym. The fucking water girl! He confessed to me and we talked about it and all that shit. I forgave him since it was his first slipup, but I never forgot it. And ever since then every fine-ass man that crosses my path, all I can do is think about how he could please my walls in bed. I know two wrongs don’t make a right but I was like fuck it, I’m still going to get mine, at least once!

  “While your offer sounds good, I would like a few days to talk this over with my wife, Mr. Johnson, and we’ll get back in touch with you soon as we come to a decision,” said my husband, Richard.

  “Well, here’s my business card, and one for you as well, Mrs. Mitchell. Feel free to contact me anytime regarding your decision.”

  That’s just what I plan to do, Mr. Milk Chocolate, contact your ass anytime. I hope my husband didn’t pick up on the vibes Mr. Johnson and I were giving each other. The look of passion that occupied his eyes when he handed me his business card made my insides get an instant fever.

  He walked us to the door and thanked us for coming to take a look at his property. I knew he was checking out my property, too, because all the men did. I had to give it to myself, I have one of those video model–type bodies: ass for days, succulent titties, and killer legs. And on this particular day I was working the hell out of my low-cut, pencil-straight dress with my stilettos.

  Once my husband and I got into our C-class Benz, he started the car and looked at me. “So what do you think, baby?”

  What do I think; I think I want that man to fuck my insides until I scream bloody murder, that’s what I think. Lawd knows I couldn’t say that, so I had to instantly clear all my nasty thoughts.

  “Baby, I really don’t need any more time to decide if I want this house. I love it! It has everything in it we’re looking for in our dream home: a pool, his and hers closets and bathroom space, your man’s den, our own offices, and a mini theater. I’m sold!” I said with a little giggle.

  “You’re right, baby, I love it, too, but I think I can get him to—”

  Ding, Ding.

  I picked up my phone and it read Facebook Alert. Richard knew that sound all too well and hated it because he says I don’t pay any attention to him when I’m reading my Facebook messages. Shit, that’s business, and I’m sorry that he can’t understand that, but it’s how I make a living, and right now business is booming. I glanced at a message and it was from Lisa, one of my good friends. I’ll hit her later so I don’t hear his mouth. She probably was just commenting on the picture I posted not long ago.

  “As I was saying,” Richard said with disgust in his voice, “I love the house and it does have everything in it that we want, but I think we can get him to come down on the price. It’s been on the market for close to a year so I’ll use that as my bargaining tool. I also need to see what the other houses in the area are going for before I lock myself into a contract.”

  Bargaining tool? What the hell was he talking about; everybody knows that pussy ranks as the number-one bargaining tool that has been proven to work since before George Washington was playing with peanuts.

  “Cool, babe.”

  So while my husband was trying to figure out how he would talk Mr. Johnson down on the price, I was plotting on how I would go down on his dick like no other woman ever had before. That way we would both get what we wanted: me—a pleased pussy; my husband—a lower price on the house. I still don’t know why I even wanted to fuck Mr. Johnson so bad because like I said, sex was good on the home front, but it was just something about the way this man carried himself. He was different. He had a certain arrogance, or what the teeny boppers called “swag,” about him, and I just wanted a little piece.

  Later on that night, I couldn’t even sleep. Mr. Milk Chocolate was on my mind heavy, so at about 2:45 a.m. I climbed out of the bed I shared with my husband, who was dead to the world, took Milk Chocolate’s card out of my zebra-print wallet, and headed over to the guest computer in the den and logged on to my Facebook account. I’m sure he had to be on it—everybody has a page, from the hoodest of the hood to the most elite professionals.

  “Alexis Johnson, cute name,” I whispered to myself as I typed it in the search bar. “Bingo!”

  After searching through about eighty-seven motherfuckers with the same name, I finally found him. I sent him a friend request, along with an empty private message with only a subject that read: So contact you anytime, huh? I hit the send button, logged off, and crawled back in bed with the hibernating bear, but went to sleep with Milk Chocolate’s pleasure piece on my mind.

  The next morning came around and I woke up with a soaking wet canal.

  Monica, you are too old to be having wet dreams, girl. Get it together. This man really has me going, I thought to myself.

  After taking my shower to clean the natural disaster that had happened overnight between my legs, I threw on some loungewear to see my family out the door for the day. I kissed Richard, Ciara, and Chelsea as they all walked out heading for school and work.

  I am a well-known event planner in the city and I conduct my business from home so I don’t have to commute to work like my husband does daily. It’s lovely at times, but takes a lot of self-discipline.

  “First things first, let me see what kind of events I have in store for today. Sweet Sixteen . . . bridal shower . . . divorce party . . .” reading my Facebook subjects out loud.

  RE: So contact me anytime

  “Oh, shit! He responded,” I said in a very low voice as if someone were still at home with me. “Well, let’s see what you’re talking about, Mr. Milk Chocolate.”

  Open.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mitchell. Yes, I said to contact me anytime you guys were ready to make an offer, or if you have any questions regarding the house. Actually, I will be over at th
e property today at ten a.m. if you would like to stop by and take another look.”

  Well, that gives me two and a half hours to get myself together. I got to make sure everything is on point for our “meeting.”

  My thoughts were interrupted by my Brandy “Best Friend” ringtone, which told me that Lisa was calling.

  “Hello . . . hey, chick . . . I’m getting ready to go to a meeting . . . with Mr. Milk Chocolate . . . I’ll explain later . . . okay . . . bye.”

  Lisa called me every morning to chitchat and catch up on the events of the day before since we both really don’t have much time to talk for the rest of the day after that.

  A couple of hours later I arrived at my dream home, which was the baddest house on the block, kind of like myself. I rang the doorbell and waited for him to receive me. I had on my white halter sundress that stopped right above my knee and showed off my curves. My feet were freshly manicured and polished with a burnt orange color. My naturally curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and my skin was glowing as if the sun personally blew me a kiss. I was flawless and I knew it. I guess you could say I had a certain “swag” about me, too.

  When he opened the door, my cockiness disappeared. I stood there speechless. What the hell was I going to say? I mean, all this man standing in front of me was too much, but now was not the time to freeze up. It was time to go hard or go home. There he was in my presence again, and there was the Mississippi waters stirring up in my lace panties again. I’m not sure what fragrance he was wearing but it sent shockwaves through my body that traveled from my nose to my clit. And I knew before I left this house today he would be nibbling, biting, and sucking on it like it was his last supper.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mitchell, come on in. Is your husband accompanying you today?”

  “Hi, Mr. Johnson, how are you? No. My husband had to work today, so I came alone.”

  “I’m fine, thank you. Please have a seat.”

  Yes, you are.