Chocolate Flava

by Zane

  His tongue found its way to that same spot, exploring, encircling, and inserting itself wherever he could give her the most pleasure. Gently trembling at first, she began to shudder and cry out softly, “Oh, oh, baby, I’m coming…” Raising herself to a half-seated position, hands gripping his hair to ensure that his tongue stayed on target, she worked her hips in rhythm with him until the sensation took her over the edge and she fell into an erupting, explosive climax.

  Weak from pleasure but aroused again by her lover’s scent, she rested her cheek against the thick, soft hair at the base of his penis and ran her fingers through his thatch, up to caress his stomach and down to his waiting erection. He laid himself on her tongue and she took him in small swallows until he was completely encircled by her warm, wet mouth. As she slowly released him, his breathing quickened and his hands drew her mouth back for more.

  Holding his slick erection in one hand, she slowly licked the length of him, lifting his penis and then sliding her tongue down to his testicles. One by one, she sucked them into her mouth, in and out, loving them with her tongue. Leaning into his own pleasure, he cried out, “Give it to me, baby!” as he made love to her mouth. Eyes closed in ecstasy, the roll of his hips quickened as he thrust deeper into her mouth. “Ah, ah, ah! Give it to me, baby!” he gasped. She didn’t lose the rhythm or a drop as he exploded deep into her throat.

  Entwined, they kissed each other’s taste onto their lips, happy in the knowledge that the chemistry that had always created such passion was still there and would always be for years to come. Their “forever and a day” had just begun.

  Grocery Gettin’

  Eileen M. Johnson

  “ ‘Yester-me, yester-you, yester-daaa-aaa-aay!’ ” Singing along with Stevie Wonder, I swung into the parking lot of Albertsons. Gene left a message saying that when he got back to New Orleans tonight, he wanted to go out for surf ’n’ turf. After a day of unsuccessfully trying to adjust to my new work schedule, the last thing I felt like doing was getting dressed, driving across town, waiting for a table, and then waiting for our food.

  Instead, I decided to stop at Albertsons on my way home. Gene would get his surf ’n turf wish fulfilled but it would be served much more cheaply and in the comfort of my own home.

  Temporarily telling Stevie good-bye, I turned off the ignition and got out of the car. The university had recently adopted a dressy casual policy for faculty and although I was comfortable, I was hot! My khakis stuck to my thighs as the late afternoon heat engulfed the city.

  Walking into the welcoming, artificial coolness of the supermarket, I dropped my purse into a basket and listlessly pushed it toward the meat department. Stopping in front of the beef cooler, I picked over the New York strips. Finding a suitable pair for a decent price, I tossed them into the basket. Moving on to the seafood department, I planned on quickly picking up two lobsters and hurrying back home.

  Gene and I had only been seeing each other for two months but I had already grown weary of his finicky appetite. The only things he seemed to like were things that I either detested or hated to prepare. For years, I’d watched my mother, her mother, and my great-granny cook everything from quiche to consommé to pigs’ feet to portabellas. There was no doubt that I knew my way around the kitchen, but Gene found flaws in everything that I set in front of him. Jokingly, I sometimes wondered to myself if he found my pussy to be bland and undercooked when he ate it.

  Giggling to myself, I stopped in front of the lobster tank. Bending down, I tried to spot two that looked large enough for me to pay nine dollars a pound.

  “Let me have him, him, and her,” a smooth male voice on the other side of the tank was saying. “I’m going to grill the tails so I need really plump ones.”

  Smiling like a man who was satisfied with himself, the man watched as the clerk used tongs to extract three lobsters from the tank. He was dark brown, tall, and lanky. A little too thin for my tastes, but his smile was intriguing the hell out of me.

  “Did I take the ones you wanted?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement.

  “No. I am going to take these two,” I said as I motioned toward a pair that were playfully clawing at each other.

  “Just checking. I have the habit of taking what I want,” he said in a voice filled with innuendo. Eyeing me openly, he slowly ran his tongue along his top lip.

  “Is that so?” I asked, playing along. “How can you take what is being given to you willingly?”

  “Well, sometimes people insist that they want to give it to me but they renege and I wind up having to take it.”

  His words oozed out with a strong, lascivious force. The icy cold air of the supermarket had caused my nipples to strain against the fabric of my bra and my black cotton blouse. Aiming his gaze directly at them, he again gave his lips a slow lick.

  “Are you a giver? Or do you prefer to be taken?” he drawled.

  Embarrassed, the seafood clerk slinked away to weigh and wrap his lobsters.

  “Well,” I began thoughtfully, my eyes wide and full of innocence. “I never give and refuse to be taken.”

  “Oh, yeah? Is that so?” he replied jauntily as the clerk handed him the wrapped lobsters. “Write down a way that I can get in contact with you and I’ll teach you the rules of give and take.”

  Scribbling down my name and number on a receipt that I extracted from my purse, I handed it over to him. Reading it, he smiled.

  “Okay, Miss Adu. I look forward to talking,” he said saucily before walking away.

  Turning toward the waiting clerk who had a silly smile on his face, I pointed impatiently to the two I wanted.

  “I’ll take those two,” I indicated right before he burst out laughing.

  Closing the oven, I reached for the pan on the stove and poured the clarified butter into two ceramic cups.

  “It doesn’t look separated enough,” Gene said from his perch at the bar.

  “I’ve seen and done this a million times. It’s separated enough,” I retorted with a bit of an edge.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he went back to reading the Times-Picayune. Ever since he’d arrived, he’d picked at my nerves. It was wonderful having a man present in my bed and to curb my loneliness, but Gene had something to say about everything. In his mind, he was an expert at everything. He’d already made comments about the type of foundation I used on my face, the way I wrapped the foil around the potatoes before I put them in the oven, and the way I was grilling the steaks. Taking the lobster tails out of the steam tray, I decided that I was simply going to agree with everything he said. Hopefully, my humbleness would get on his nerves and he would see how it felt to be aggravated.

  Opening the oven, I tested the baked potatoes with a fork. Taking them out, I set them on plates along with the steak and lobster tails and brought them over to the table. I walked back to the refrigerator and brought out the condiments. Sitting down, I bowed my head in prayer before digging in and dipping a chunk of the lobster tail into the “not-separated-enough” clarified butter. It was delicious. Cutting off a small piece of the steak, I popped it into my mouth and savored the taste as it melted away. I had really outdone myself.

  Looking across the table at Gene, I saw from his facial expression that he was enjoying the food. But I also knew that in a second or two, he would find fault with something. He wanted fucking surf ’n’ turf and I’d made it to the best of my ability. Still, not good enough for him. To test him, I silently began to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi—

  “If you would’ve wet the potatoes and made a slit in the foil, they would’ve baked easier and been moist,” he said, scraping some of the flesh from the skin.

  I knew it! I didn’t even get to complete the count of five and he was complaining. What really burned me was the fact that he had yet to stop chewing. He was handsome and educated but he had such an immature, small mind.

  “So, which courses are you teaching this semester? I’m scheduled to instruct an African-American lit cla
ss that you would be great at teaching,” I said brightly, changing the subject to something that would allow peace between us. “Can you believe the semester begins in just a few days?” Putting down my wineglass, I braced myself to listen to yet another of Gene’s antic stories about his job. Oh well, no one can ever call me a lousy listener.

  The shrill ring of the telephone shook me from my soft field of sleep. Beside me, Gene snored lightly and wasn’t awakened by the ringing.

  “Hello?” I queried sleepily.

  “My, don’t we turn in early,” a male voice joked.

  Looking at the alarm clock, I saw the face read 10:30. Gene and I had come upstairs after dinner and I had been disappointed to learn that instead of sex, he merely wanted to sleep. I still had on my day clothes but felt like it was morning.

  “Sometimes we do. Who is this?” I asked.

  “This is Larron. You met me earlier at Albertsons.”

  “Oh!” Sitting up, I walked with the phone into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Didn’t think I was gonna call, did you?” he asked with a laugh.

  “I knew you were going to call sooner or later. I think I left a lasting impression on you.”

  “Confident aren’t we, Miss Adu?” he said.

  “Sure I am. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride.”

  “Well…” I hesitated, peeping out of the bathroom door at Gene’s sleeping form. “Why not?”

  Laughing like the cat that swallowed the canary and a double serving of cream, he gave me directions to his house, which was only an exit away from mine. Hanging up the phone, I padded lightly back into the bedroom and took off the jeans and tank top that I’d fallen asleep in and put on a simple cotton shift. Slipping my feet into black slides, I grabbed my keys and tiptoed downstairs and out of the house.

  “So how long have you been on the air?” I asked Larron as he sped over the Crescent City connection.

  “I’ve been in radio about six years altogether, but I started out in production. I’ve been a club and party deejay for about eleven years, but I’ve been doing it on the air for the past two,” he answered.

  “Okay. I’ve never listened to WKJI. What genre of music does it feature?”

  Looking at me with a deliciously crooked grin, he let a throaty laugh escape his lips. “At WKJI, we feature gospel and spiritual.”

  “Well, alrighty then!” I answered, turning straight in my seat and looking out the front windshield. Goodness, I needed to change the subject. Here I was, at eleven o’clock, wearing a dress and no panties, riding with a gospel music deejay. “So how long have you had this car?”

  “Only about six months.”

  “Snazzy,” I said as I sniffed the leather of his Montreal blue BMW Z-3 convertible.

  “It is, if I must say so myself,” he said, smiling at the compliment I’d just given his car. “Can you drive a stick?”

  “Sure I can,” I replied eagerly.

  “Shit. That’s usually the excuse I use for not letting anyone else drive. Most women don’t. Wanna give her a run?” he asked me.

  “Hell, yeah!”

  Exiting the expressway, he drove until we approached a hospital parking tower. He drove up the winding tower, shifting gears, until we reached the twelfth level. He turned the car around, pulled up the parking brake, and got out of the driver’s seat. Getting up to take the wheel, my dress was rumpled around my hips, giving him a clear peep of my pussy and ass. I quickly pulled it down, knowing the impression had been made.

  “Why a parking tower?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t soon forget about the sight I’d just treated him to.

  “I figured we could start here, just in case you aren’t good at driving a stick,” he said in the same lascivious tone that he’d used at the supermarket. “On second thought, maybe I should drive?”

  Immediately kicking into bad girl mode, I lifted the hem of my shift up so he could see my hairy pussy.

  “Why don’t we both drive?” I asked.

  “Now how on earth can we both drive?” he questioned.

  “Watch,” I answered, getting out of the car.

  I moved the seat as far back as it could go. Motioning for him to sit down, I lowered his zipper and reached over him to my purse. I took out a Trojan, pulled out his already stiff cock, and rolled the rubber down over it. With my back toward his almost prone body, I lowered myself onto his dick. I shut the door, pulled up the parking brake, shifted the car into first gear, and slowly drove the car down the first ramp while I rode his big, hard dick. Hearing him moan from his position under me turned me on so much that I hit the gas and shifted straight into third. After letting go of the clutch, I began bouncing up and down on his dick while turning down onto the eleventh level. Squeezing down on his dick with my wet pussy muscles, my mind raced with excitement. Trying to navigate the sharp downward turns of the garage while fucking his brains out was very interesting. By the time we reached the third level, the car was in overdrive and so was my body. Speeding down the curves of the tower, I was about to have one of the biggest orgasms of my life.

  “Don’t wreck my car. Oh shit, baby, please don’t wreck my car. Oh yeah, girl, fuck me. Fuck the shit out of me,” he mumbled as he brought his hips up to meet my wet and rotating pussy.

  As we flew down the ramp of the second level, two nurses who had probably just gotten off duty stopped in their tracks and gave us curious looks while I used one hand to steer and one to shift. While I drove and fucked, Larron’s arms reached around me, his hands busily rubbing my nipples. My dress was hiked up over my tits and I was bouncing up and down on Larron’s juicy dick. Banging my fist on the horn, I greeted the shocked nurses as I came closer and closer to exploding. We sailed down to the first level as I pressed my left foot on the clutch and used my right hand to throw the shift into neutral. Letting the car roll down onto solid ground, I bucked away as I felt myself coming, my pussy muscles contracting and squeezing every drop of come from Larron’s dick. I heard him shout out in ecstasy as my mind exploded with a million colors. Steering the now slow-moving car into a parking space, I tapped the brake lightly to get it to stop. I lifted myself slowly off Larron’s dick as he held the spent rubber in place, then I opened the door and stepped out of the car onto my wobbly legs. Standing in the parking lot, I pulled my dress down to cover my breasts and then my hips and my behind. Across the bottom parking level, I noticed three maintenance men staring at me with unmasked curiosity. Smiling and giving them a thumbs-up sign, I walked over to the passenger side and got in.

  I looked over at Larron, who was breathing heavier than a horse and hanging his head over the side of the headrest. I couldn’t help but smile. He looked absolutely drained. Reaching over to rub his knees, I let out a light laugh. I am going to have to get groceries more often. Where else can I find more excitement?

  “You must take me driving again! I found give and take to be very interesting,” I said with my voice full of energy.

  Larron looked at me and seemed baffled about why I still had energy. A frown spread over his face.

  “Girl, you put something awful on me. But, um…yeah. We can go driving again very soon.” Tossing the used rubber out onto the ground, he zipped up his pants and sped away toward his house.

  I took off my slides and tiptoed back upstairs. Gene’s car was still parked on the other side of the garage. Pushing open the bedroom door, I fumbled in the dark to my closet and tossed my shoes inside, then placed my keys down on the dresser. I was about to step into the bathroom for a quick shower before bed when the lights flew on. Gene was sitting, fully dressed, on the edge of the bed.

  “Do you always go gallivanting into the night when your tricks call?” he asked in a rough tone.

  “You don’t know where I’ve been. I could’ve gone out for a pint of ice cream.”

  “Is that why you smell like the whore of
Babylon?”

  “Look, Gene, I’m not going to argue with you, especially not in my house,” I said as I snapped on the bathroom light and took off my shift.

  “Look, if you wanted to fuck so bad, why didn’t you just wake me up?” he asked, walking in the bathroom behind me.

  “Gene, I didn’t go and fuck anyone. I had a craving for a shake so I went to Rally’s. That’s it,” I said, turning to look at him with tears forming in my eyes. Gee, I sure hope this works, I thought.

  “I believe you. Don’t cry, Adu. I believe you,” he said as I began to bawl.

  I deserve an Emmy, I thought, as Gene dropped to his knees in front of me and began to lick away the traces of Larron from my pussy.

  Do I really want someone who pretends to be tough on the outside but is actually this soft? I thought, as I watched him get busy with his task. Shaking my head and letting out a sigh, I decided Gene would do…for a while, at least.

  White Heat

  Marilyn Lee

  I woke in the middle of the night to the totally delightful sensation of Steve’s naked body sliding up mine, his rock-hard cock nestled between the lips of my pussy. His warm lips nibbled at that special spot on my neck just below my left ear. That never failed to infuse my entire body with heat and need for him.

  “Oh, Steve…” I wrapped my arms around his neck, rubbing my mound against his throbbing dick.