by Selena Spry
“Wow,” Wendy breathed, apparently more interested in Rob making the exchange to a new foot that she held out enticingly before him than his wild tale.
Such stories were a dime a dozen when working in downtown Chicago’s hospitality industry. She pulled her foot away from Rob suddenly, unexpectedly. He looked up, concerned that he had hurt her in his zeal to please. “That’s it, I’ve had enough,” she said sternly. “I can’t take this heat,” she shook her head as she began to unbutton her blouse and un-tuck it from pants.
“Oh,” Rob smiled in relief. “Good.”
He watched her undress, illuminated only by the soft glow of the pool lights, and the city’s ever-present nighttime phosphorescent glow.
She shed her white blouse first, tossing it onto the nearby lounge chair. Next, she wriggled out of her tightly fitted black pants to reveal short, yet shapely legs. She tossed her pants atop the blouse.
Then she stood before Rob, a tight, white-lace bra struggling to restrain her mounded 34DD breasts, and black satin panties with laced elastic waistline that only concealed half her lovely and amazingly rounded ass cheeks.
Her beautifully dark skin had tanned a deeper shade than usual this summer. Rob was always amazed at how damn quickly Brazilian girls could go from almost the same shade of pale as he to a deeply saturated brown. All he ever seemed to do was burn.
Wendy stepped to the pool’s edge.
“Awww…” Rob moaned.
“I’m not getting naked…sorry,” Wendy said, head tilted to one side. “You-know-who is probably watching anyway,” she nodded across the pool to a neighboring home.
“Who gives a shit?” Rob shrugged. “Let him watch. Give him something to get his pecker hard. Probably the best show he’ll ever get.”
“Shhh…” Wendy hissed. “He’ll hear you.”
Rob shrugged. “Just hurry up and get that sweet ass in here.”
Over the last few years, Rob and Wendy had noticed that one of their next-door neighbors had made a regular habit of watching them in their pool out his second-story window. It had bothered Rob at first, but now he didn’t really care. It still made Wendy somewhat uncomfortable, but Rob almost wondered if it didn’t turn her on a little bit too. While she would likely never admit to it, she always seemed to get a little freakier than normal with him when they were in the pool.
Rob didn’t get it. Their neighbor, Brian, was only a few years older than they were. He seemed a decent person, not overly outgoing or anything, and he wasn’t a particularly bad looking dude. But he’d never been married, and there were never potential prospects – male or female – seen coming to or leaving his house. Rob didn’t really care if he was a peeping Tom. If the guy was looking for a show to get his rocks off, so be it. Hell, he’d even be willing to let the guy take a turn with Wendy – if Wendy was down for it, of course. But Brian was going to have to do more than yank his wanker from behind closed curtains for a chance of that ever happening.
Rob had even invited Brian over to take advantage of their pool about a year back. He’d never taken him up on the offer, but without fail, if Rob and Wendy were in the pool, Brian was sure to be watching. They knew he was there because of the pulled partition where he’d part his blinds to ogle them.
Rob watched as Wendy slipped from the edge of the pool, down into the water.
She reached out to him and he pulled her up close. She wrapped her legs around his waist, cinching herself up even tighter to him. They kissed, tongue flickering against tongue. He gripped her legs just above the knee before sliding his hands up beneath her thighs and around behind her to grab hold of an ample cheek in each. He used the leverage to hold her tight, massaging her ass in his hands, cherishing each supple squeeze.
“Fuckin’ love that ass,” he squeezed tighter. He was an ass man, no doubt about it, and Wendy had it to spare.
“You’re not so bad yourself…for a white guy,” she teased.
“Thanks,” Rob grinned, kissing her again.
Rob was a little shorter than Wendy would typically have gone for in a man. On their first few dates, due to his diminished stature, she had worried that there might be other shortcomings. But upon their first romp in the sack, she had been pleasantly surprised, actually very pleasantly surprised. Rob had been bigger and better than any man she’d ever been with, but he didn’t let that get in the way of attending to her needs. That’s what she loved most about him…that and his air of confidence.
At 170 pounds, Rob was a nice size, and his lack of height gave him bigger, more muscular-looking arms – and Wendy loved arms! As booty was to Rob, arms were to Wendy. She loved to grip his rock-hard biceps or his bulging forearms when they were doing it. She loved how they looked when they were holding him up over her while he pounded away on her, his big brown eyes staring down into hers. And that tight ass of his didn’t hurt either. Shit, he loved her ass, but she could bounce a goddamn quarter off his and catch it on the rebound.
As Rob felt Wendy’s legs tighten around him, he immediately began to get hard. Wendy never failed to light him up between the legs. There was just something about her…something that felt right. It wasn’t just that she was fucking hot as shit, but she had a certain exotic nature about her that he found undeniable and irresistible. Her dark skin, a certain unique curvature to her lips, a longing in her olive-shaped eyes that sparkled a special shade of green. And best of all – at least in Rob’s mind – everything on her was tight…tight ass, tight tits, tight tummy, tight arms, tight legs. Every curve was supple, every edge rounded…just how Rob had always envisioned his perfect woman…his goddess.
Wendy’s dark, almost black, rock-hard, silver-dollar-sized nipples showed through the clearness of her water-saturated white bra. Rob moved his hands from her butt, gripping her ankles and pulling them apart, thus releasing her leg-lock from around his waist. He pushed her up and away so that she floated on her back before him. Then he parted her legs, dipped down, and moved forward in the chest-high water so that Wendy’s lower legs draped over his shoulders. Rob moved her back slowly so that her head rested on the lip that ringed the pool’s edge and then used a hand to pull the crotch of her panties aside.
Wendy closed her eyes as Rob got to work. He moved his mouth in toward her slowly, temptingly, knowing that she was awaiting his touch to that vital area. He teased her as he skirted the spot, kissing thighs, lower stomach, anywhere but there. But that wasn’t to last long. Soon he couldn’t resist, and dove in headlong, giving a few soft licks to warm her up before retreating. He took in a mouthful of pool water and sprayed it soothingly against her wet, pink spot. He repeated the act several more times before moving back in with more passion, his tongue licking and lapping with voracity.
Soon, Wendy couldn’t stand it any longer. She clutched the back of Rob’s head, driving his face in deeper, harder, until her shuddering undulations told him that his efforts had met with success.
After she’d had a moment to recover, she was back down around his waist, Rob inside her, driving, splashing, pleasing. He paused only momentarily in his thrusts to take a quick peek over his shoulder. This time, however, there were no parted curtains in the house next door. The realization threw him slightly off his game, but it took him only moments to recover his rhythm. Knowing that they had a casual viewer usually pushed Rob to work harder on Wendy. But now he found himself wondering if they’d finally lost their audience. The thought bothered him; almost discourage him, but not enough so that he couldn’t finish the job.
Still he wondered – where was Brian?
Chapter 5
“Hotel security!” Jaren called, knocking and pausing before using his master keycard to unlock the door.
As a security officer in one of downtown Chicago’s largest and most prestigious hotels, he never knew what sorts of situations he’d be facing on a daily basis. But that was what kept his job interesting.
He entered the room cautiously but with confidence. His 195 well-sculpted po
unds on a five foot eleven frame backed up that confidence.
He heard the self-closing door shut behind him as he scanned the room. It looked like any one of nearly 2,000 other rooms inside the hotel, but he knew better than to become lulled into a false sense of security.
“Hotel security!” he called again as he walked toward the half-closed bathroom door. He paused before it, trying to see through the blackness inside. He reached out tentatively with a hand and pushed the door open. This provided enough light to see that the space was empty, but the shower curtain was pulled closed.
He flipped on the bathroom light, walked over, and reached out toward the shower curtain’s edge. Just as he was about to rip it open, someone was on him, straddling him from behind, arms around his neck.
The surprise of the attack caught him off guard and he stumbled from the bathroom, regaining his balance as he neared the king-size bed. It was at this point that he was able to use his size and physical ability to get the upper hand on his attacker. Spinning his body, he pivoted so that the weight of the person was slung around toward his front where he could get a better grip on their bulk. Then he used this momentum to drive his attacker down onto the bed.
Pinning the person below him, he was met with giggles.
“I really got you, this time!” a female voice said.
“Where were you hiding!?” Jaren grinned down into the brown eyes and lightly freckled face staring up at him.
“The armoire. Some of us are small enough to fit inside, you know?”
“Good spot,” Jaren grinned. “I’ll have to remember that one for future reference,” he bent to kiss the sweet mouth smiling at him. It was a kiss that was filled with both familiarity and longing, but one shortened by environment. “We shouldn’t be in here,” he said after they broke from their embrace.
“It’s okay,” Aileen explained, sitting up on the edge of the bed and taking his hand in hers as he stood before her. “I’m floor manager here today, and I had to put this room out of order until Saturday for deep cleaning. No one will be in here until at least tomorrow.”
Hearing this, Jaren seemed to relax. While these games with Aileen were fun, they weren’t worth risking his job over – or hers for that matter. To justify his actions, Jaren said Aileen’s calls to him while he was working were good practice because they tested his security skills. Aileen just liked them because they got her hot. Breaking the rules pushed some unseen button inside her that got the blood pumping in her sporty little five foot four, 120-pound body. She was never sure whether it was the Irish part or the Puerto Rican that responded to the challenge of getting away with something dangerous. Maybe it was both.
And while Jaren would never admit it outwardly, his response to these little scenarios proved that he liked them as well. The rule-bound security officer in him tried to remain focused on work, but Aileen somehow managed to sway, if not his mind, at least his body toward her ulterior motives.
She let go of his hand and ran it along the crotch of his snug-fitting blue uniform pants. She moved to trace a finger lightly down his leg and then back up his inner thigh. His meaty paw pocketed her tiny hand in his with amazing gentleness considering the size differential. He pulled her hand away.
“Aileen,” he said with determination paired with a hint of despair. “We can’t do this. Not in here…not now. What if we get caught?”
“We won’t,” she explained hopefully, her eyes tilted provocatively up at him from her bedside perch. “I promise.”
“You can’t promise something like that. Somebody from maintenance looking for a spot to nap, or maybe the director of housekeeping just doing a spot check of a room could come busting in. You can’t plan for that.”
“It’s fine,” she pleaded. “Trust me.” Her hand was back on his inner thigh now, rubbing slowly closer to the hardness forming in those snug blue pants that Jaren’s beefy black body filled so well.
“I do trust you. It’s the circumstances that I don’t trust,” he explained, all the while feeling himself starting to weaken and knowing that Aileen had him even if he didn’t want to admit it. He felt her fingers skirt along the growing bulge between his legs and knew that it was now or never if he was going to extricate himself from this dangerous liaison.
“Tonight,” he said, stepping back from her. “We can have fun tonight when we get home.”
Aileen’s shoulders sagged, her sweet face, partially hidden behind tightly bound curls of reddish-brown hair, peered up at him. “Please, baby,” she pouted, her beautiful brown eyes turned up at him pleadingly.
Jaren felt his willpower starting to fade.
The mistake he had made was not one of standing to put distance between him and his temptress; it was that in doing so, he had aligned his waist directly with Aileen’s face – one head now facing another. It may have been an unintended or subconscious move, but the result was unmistakable. Aileen’s eyes locked firmly on the target now directly before her and easily within reach.
Before he had a chance to resist, she scooted forward on the bed and latched onto the banana-sized outline in his pants growing larger by the second. She moved to use her mouth, gumming the outline through the fabric.
Jaren’s head tilted back at her warm touch as he realized that further resistance was futile. Yet even then, as she worked away at his thickness, he made one last meager attempt, putting a finger under Aileen’s chin to guide her mouth up and away from him. But it didn’t work; it only tilted her face upward slightly so that those pretty little eyes, burning with a passion-filled intensity unlike any he’d ever known, gazed up into his as she went back to work on the mouth-moistened fabric of his uniform pants.
“You’d better stop,” he breathed, not wanting her to. “You’ll get my pants so wet I won’t be able to go back to work.”
“Only one way to fix that,” she grinned, pulling away from him while at the same time unzipping his pants and fumbling inside with a hand for a moment before she unleashed his rock-solid cock from inside.
Aileen had always heard good things about black guys when it came to their size below the belt. And while Jaren certainly stacked up, he didn’t seem that much bigger than other guys she’d been with. It was certainly plenty enough for her, but she wasn’t dealing with a 12-inch kielbasa or anything…which was good since she wasn’t sure where she’d put the extra inches anyway.
She quickly unbuttoned and shed her uniform shirt and then ditched her bra. Squeezing her breasts together with her upper arms, she spit on Jaren long black rod now standing at attention before her, using her hands to rub it slick. Then she guided it between her perky bosoms.
Aileen didn’t have the biggest tits or the best booty Jaren had ever seen, but there was just something about her – a sex appeal he found undeniable. Others noticed it too. Before they’d officially become an item, Aileen had been the talk of the security office. It might have been her unusual ancestral mix that the other officers found intriguing. It may have been her gymnast-like body, showcased in a skin-tight, sequined dress she sported at the annual holiday party. Maybe it was just her attitude – a mixture of sporty, spunky, vibrant, and bouncy. Whatever it was, Jaren had been the object of envy among his fellow officers when he’d managed to land Aileen…and keep her.
Some of his co-workers felt the romance would fade quickly and that Aileen would be back on the market soon. But the couple had dated for two years and been married for almost a year. And maybe even more surprising to many, the fire of their passion for one another was still burning as red-hot as ever.
Aileen moved her arm so that it was held across her chest. It helped press her breasts tighter together. Jaren quickly slid his hardened dong up between her forearm and breasts, pushing in tight as she squeezed in upon him, adding friction before giving a lick, a suck, or a wet kiss to the tip of his cock with each thrust. Every so often, his balls would smack lightly against her midsection. Occasionally, she would latch onto them with her free hand and give th
em a soft squeeze or light tickle with her long and painted fingernails.
Soon, he slipped from between her breasts. Pushing her back carefully onto the bed, he pulled her tight, snuggly-fitting black pants, along with her panties, down to her feet and over her shoes – Converse All-Stars. He tossed the clothing on the floor but left the shoes on in his own little bit of kink.
Then he bent over and kissed her softly, tenderly, but with a pull at her upper lip as they parted. She felt his cock drag down her trim abdomen, leaving a thin, slippery trail of pre-cum along her tummy as he guided his dick down between her warm thighs.
He paused, pulling away from her to flip Aileen’s tiny body over so that she lay on her stomach.
Oddly, Aileen’s physical attribute that Jaren loved most was her back. It still held its well-muscled, yet petite physical conditioning formed from her time working as a room attended before she was promoted to floor manager two years ago. Most people didn’t know how physically demanding cleaning hotel rooms was. Aileen – along with the other room attendants – had often been assigned anywhere from 12 to 16 rooms to clean on a daily basis. Years of scrubbing, vacuuming, dusting, lifting, and sheet changing had kept her sporty-physique wonderfully well toned. Her back had an indented ridge that followed her spine down the center, a trail that led to a spectacularly tight little ass, each cheek of which cupped nicely in one of Jaren’s huge hands. It made for easy gripping, and he could lift, twist, twirl, and tumble his beautiful bride like an acrobat during their sexual escapades.
He dipped down, grabbing her waist to pull her back toward him. Her ass arched up to meet him, and he slipped easily inside her from behind. His head titled back as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. They both paused for a brief instant, enjoying the interlocking of their bodies with one another.