Man Swappers

by Cairo

  “Heifer, I wanted to see how far you were going to take this.” She watches me as I lick the cucumber, then go to the sink and wash it off. “Uhhhh, I know you’re not about to put that”—she points at the cucumber in my hand—“back in the refrigerator after you done fucked yourself with it.”

  I wave her on, opening up the ’fridge. “Girl, please. Do you know how many of these you’ve eaten after I’ve fucked myself with them?” I toss it back into the vegetable bin.

  She frowns, shaking her head. “Ohmygod, you’re so fucking nasty.” The doorbell rings. I switch my bare ass to answer it. “Ummm, excuuuuse me. But you’ve left your pussy juice up there on the counter.”

  “I know,” I tell her over my shoulder. “Royce can lick it up. That’s him now at the door.”

  “Uggggghhh. I don’t believe this shit.”

  I laugh, swinging open the door. Oooh, this young boy is so fine. “Come in,” I tell him, stepping back to let him in. “I left you a treat on the counter.”

  Passion

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Irwin is what we call a strip-club whore. He spends a bulk of his dollars in gentlemen’s clubs and seedy strip bars, tricking up his money on lap dances and private-room romps where he’s either gotten head, or fingered their pussies. But, he’s never actually taken a stripper home with him, or fucked one. We’ve heard of plenty of men who frequent strip clubs, wanting to take one of the strippers home and fuck them all night. Some do, many others don’t. So his dream to be seduced by three sexy strippers doesn’t surprise me.

  We’ll bring his fantasy to life in one of the many rooms we’ve created down in our finished basement. The Freakum Room is a lounge-like room with a customized stage, bar and private bathroom. The bar is stacked with all types of liquor. There are strobe lights situated throughout the room. And two ceiling-to-stage floor stripper poles are in the middle of the stage. My sisters and I have invested thousands of dollars into each of our fantasy rooms, including this one. The dimly lit room with the music blaring out of the speakers, mirrors lining the walls, and the multi-colored lights swirling around the room give you the illusion of being in a real club. There’s a fog machine in the left corner of the room that is on low, slowly fogging up the stage.

  Tonight, Persia is playing the role of the doorman and cashier. I am in the utility room, adjacent to our laundry room, watching everything on the surveillance cameras we have installed throughout the house. I pinch my nipples as Persia frisks Irwin, grabbing at his dick until she feels it harden, then collects his fifty-dollar cover charge and leads him through the house. I keep my eye on them as he follows her down the stairs. He takes a seat as she strips down in front of him, seductively slipping into a barmaid’s costume. Tonight, she will serve him drinks, while Paris and I play the slutty strippers.

  One foot in front of the other, Persia saunters toward the double doors, knowing Irwin’s eyes are locked onto her ass. When they reach the doors to the room, he removes all of his clothes except for his boxers, Timbs, and wife beater. I watch lustfully, reaching between my legs and pinching my clit. Persia opens the doors and leads Irwin into the room. He sits at the bar as Perissia walks behind it, then leans over the bar and says something to her. She grins and nods her head, then drapes a red silk scarf she’s found behind the bar around his neck. She grabs a hold of the ends, and pulls him into her, kissing him. I watch as her tongue darts in and out of his mouth. She pushes him back, then climbs up on the bar, turns around with her ass facing him, then squats down on all fours, offering him the back of her pussy.

  He leans over the bar and says something to her. She grins and nods her head, then drapes a red silk scarf she’s found behind the bar around his neck. She grabs a hold of the ends, and pulls him into her, kissing him. I watch as her tongue darts in and out of his mouth. She pushes him back, then climbs up on the bar, turns around with her ass facing him, then squats down on all fours, offering him the back of her pussy.’’ Irwin pulls open her ass cheeks, then buries his face in. I watch as Persia arches her back and backs up on his tongue. I reach down and lightly pinch my clit, then brush my fingertips over my nipples.

  Paris walks out of the bathroom, disrupting my peep show. “Is he here yet?”

  “Yeah, Persia has already started serving him snacks at the bar,” I say, glancing over at her. She’s standing in the middle of the room with her hair pinned up. Her body naked and slick with scented baby oil shimmers in the light. Like Persia’s and mine, her body is flawless. I watch as she slips into a metallic-silver bikini-top with matching thong, then shimmies into a white fishnet mini-dress. Then she slides her feet into a pair of eight-inch, metallic thigh-high boots. She stands, balances herself with ease, then struts across the room.

  “Whew, I hope I don’t snap my ankles, fucking around in these heels tonight.”

  “Girl, you’re fierce in that getup,” I say, getting up and slipping into my outfit—a turquoise Lycra one-piece, T-romper and a pair of seven-inch clear sandals with rhinestones. I tie the string in back of my neck, then ask her to tie the other string around my back. “But I probably wouldn’t drink if I were you; to be on the safe side.”

  She chuckles. “You’re probably right. One shot is it for me.” She stares at me. “Girl, this shit is sexy as hell. When the hell did you buy this lil’ number?”

  “I ordered it a few months ago, but hadn’t felt like wearing it. I had planned on saving it for our next island getaway.”

  “Yeah, mon, show dem de pum-pum,” she jokes, smacking me on the ass.

  I laugh, bending over and fastening the straps on my heels. “Your ass is so damn silly. You ready to go out and rock this nigga’s cock?”

  “Strippers and hoes do it best,” she says, laughing. “Let’s go make it rain.”

  I grab the portable microphone, while Paris grabs the floor mat, lube and baby oil from off the table. We go through the laundry room, then open another door that leads us into the Freakum Room where the stage is located. I wait for Paris to place the the mat, lube and oil up on the stage, then step back out of view. I climb the four steps to the stage, then make my presence known.

  I turn the microphone on. “Alright, muthafucker, it’s time to get this party started. You ready to make it rain up in this biiiiiotch?” Irwin hops off the barstool and makes his way over to the stage, barking. His thick dick is already hard, pressing itself up against his underwear. He yells and whistles into the air, clapping his hands. “I said, are you ready to make it rain up in this biiiiiotch?!”

  “Hell yeah, baby, I’m ready. Gotta hot, hard dick and a handful of money.”

  “Then let the games begin.” I step back as Paris takes the stage. “I bring to you Pleasure.” Persia shines the spotlight on her. Irwin continues to catcall and whistle.

  Paris goes in character, scans the room as if she’s in a real strip club. Hands on hips, legs spread apart, she poses, waits for the music to start. Trina’s “Dang A Lang” featuring Lady Saw and Nicki Minaj starts playing. “Mi have a watch…mi have a chain… mi have a whole heap of money in da bank…mi just want him fi him dang a lang…”

  Paris twirls and wines her hips, sways to the beat, then grabs a hold of the pole and slowly twirls herself around it with one hand. Then slowly coils herself around the pole like a python, hoisting herself up. She slides herself up and down it. Rides it like a hard, uncut dick, bouncing her ass every so often.

  “…Dang so damn hood, dang a lang so good…like foot long sub… eat it all if you could…”

  I glance over at Persia who is standing on top of the bar, gyrating her hips, and slowly shaking her ass. She drops down low, grabs her ankles, then stands. Her ass sways and jiggles. I watch her getting into character, making love to her body. Irwin snaps his neck from the bar back to the stage, then back to the bar. His dick is aching to be released from his striped boxers. He gulps down his drink, then orders another one, yelling it across the room to Persia. He brings his attention back to P
aris.

  “Work that shit, ma…” Paris comes to the edge of the stage, drops down and does the butterfly with her hips and thighs—pulling her g-string to the side, giving Irwin a sneak peek at her pussy. He reaches for her, but she scoots back. Teases him, gyrates her hips.

  He tosses money up in the air like confetti. Bills float down onto the stage beside her.

  Persia saunters toward him—gyrating and shaking her hips, his drink in one hand, and a double-sided dildo in the other. It’s my cue that it’s time for the real show to pop off.

  I turn off the portable mic. Persia is standing behind Irwin, grinding her pussy into his ass with one hand wrapped in front of him grabbing at his cock.

  He takes a swig from his drink as Persia’s hand travels up over his chest. She pinches his nipples. I pop my hips off the stage toward him. Persia and I sandwich him, grind our bodies into his. Then I drop down in front of him, brushing my face up against his ever-rising erection, then turn around and bend over and bounce my ass up on it.

  “Oh fuck, y’all bitches sexy…”

  “And we ’bout to fuck the shit outta you,” Persia warns him as I yank down his boxers and take his meaty dick into my hands, kissing the tip, then licking the precum. His hard, thick dick points like an arrow, aiming for its target.

  When Twista’s “Wetter” starts playing, I abruptly stand up, leaving his dick unattended. Persia hands me the dildo and I slowly walk back toward the stage, swaying my hips and stopping every so often to wind them, and jiggle my ass. Once I hit the stage, I press a button and the recess lights over the stage come on, giving our one-man audience a lighted view of the show. Paris seductively removes her clothes, pouring baby oil all over the front of her body. I grab a hold of the pole and start working it watching as Paris rolls the mat out, then sprawls out on it, drizzling baby oil all over her pussy, then playing with it.

  “Damn…work that shit, baby…” Irwin says, tossing more money up in the air. Persia’s down on her knees with his dick in her mouth while he tries to keep his eyes on Paris finger-fucking herself, and watch my pole action. I seductively wind my body down and around the pole in sync with the music, then slowly step out of my attire, standing only in my heels and nakedness.

  I continue my alluring dance routine, watching Paris remove her middle and index fingers from her slit, then suck on them before reaching over for the dildo. The pulse in my clit quickens, causing my juices to seep from my pussy as Paris gets on all fours, then slowly pushes the dildo into the back of her sweetness. My muscles clench in anticipation as I move toward her, eyeing the dildo hanging out from between her glistening lips, reminding me of a tail waiting to be yanked. I inch my way over to her, then drop down on my knees, scooting backward closer toward the tip of the dildo. Back arched, ass up, I reach under me, and slowly guide its head into my wet slit.

  Persia gets up off of her knees and pulls Irwin toward the stage by his hard dick, leading him up the stairs. He watches intently as Porsha and I ease both ends of the dildo into our slick holes, pushing and rocking back and forth, causing it to disappear, then reappear. We allow our asses to smack up against the others with quick, steady thrusts. She’s moaning. I’m moaning. We fuck ourselves relentlessly, watching as Persia mounts Irwin’s condom-covered cock, then slide up and down the length of him. He watches Paris and me as we skillfully gobble up both ends of the jet-black, double-headed dildo, sinking it deep into our sopping wet pussies.

  Over an R. Kelly track, Irwin lets out a loud groan, lets his eyes roll up in the back of his head as he grips Persia’s hips and matches her rhythm. Thrust for thrust, grunt for grunt, they fuck each other with reckless abandon.

  “Ride that nigga’s dick, Pain,” Paris says.

  “Fuck her pussy good, big daddy,” I urge, scooting up and allowing the dildo to slip out of me. I turn around and suck my juices off the head, using my hand to continue pushing it in and out of Porsha’s slickness. She moans, arches her back; allows me to feed her pussy while I savor my sticky cream. I pull the dildo out, then hand it to her. She sucks, and licks, and enjoys her sweet sauce, then leans back on her forearm and slides it back into her pussy.

  I walk over and straddle Irwin’s face, then lower my pussy down onto his wet, waiting tongue.

  “Oh, baby, it’s so good,” he moans in between deliciously deep strokes of his tongue. He mounts his mouth over my pussy and sucks on it until my knees give out. I lean forward and brace myself with my arms extended so I don’t topple over.

  “Yeah, nigga…eat my pussy…oh, yes…”

  He starts chanting and moaning. “Mmmmhmmm…mmmmhmm….yes, yes, yes, yes…uh, uh, uh…mmmmhmmm…oh fuck…”

  “You want me to cum all over your cock?” Persia asks, bucking up and down on his dick.

  He grunts and groans. “Aaah, fuck yeah, baby…wet that bigass dick…all up in that good pussy…”

  A few minutes later, Persia is moaning, then cumming. She lifts up off his cock, and Paris takes her place, reaching for his dick, then stuffing it into the back of her pussy. He starts power-fucking her. His balls are flapping a mile a minute. Paris is taking it, galloping fast and hard on his dick.

  “That’s right,” I urge, craning my neck to look at her. “Ride his dick, girl. Fuck him good!”

  She stops moving her body and squats, allowing Irwin to jackhammer her pussy. “Yeah, fuck me like that…ohmygod…yes, yes, yes…oh, yeah…mmmhmm…ooooh, his dick’s so damn good… Passion, you wanna ride his dick, girl? You wanna feel how big his dick is?”

  “Yeah, let me get some of that dick,” I say, lifting up off his face and walking around to feed my pussy. Persia now squats over his face, serves him her snatch.

  “Oh, yes…mmmm…your tongue feels so good in my pussy… aaaah…”

  “Oh, fuck…y’all got some good-ass pussy…”

  The three of us alternate from fucking his face to riding his cock, then shifting positions so that he can fuck us doggie-style, ramming and slamming his dick deep into our pussies, moving down the line to serve all three of us equal amounts of the dick, then back up, again. Then we shift to Paris lying on her back with Persia and me lying on either side of her while Irwin is fucking her. Paris has her legs up over his shoulders. He uses his left hand to fuck me with the dildo, and his right hand to finger fuck Persia and play with her clit.

  “Oooooh….yes, fuck that pussy, nigga…mmmm…” Persia moans.

  “You like how Pleasure’s pussy feels on that dick?” I ask, cupping my right titty, then licking the nipple.

  “Aaaah, fuck…oh shit…yeah, this some good-ass pussy…uh, uh, uh…y’all got a nigga’s head spinning…”

  “Fuck us, nigga! Beat the pussy up…” Paris taunts, pinching her nipples. “Make my pussy cry…uhh…mmmm…”

  “Aaah, shit…goddamn it…

  For the next forty-five minutes, Paris, Persia and I fuck every inch of Irwin until he is literally slurring his words. He wanted to fuck a room full of strippers, and that’s exactly what we gave him. Three hot, slutty-ass strippers who we let fuck us in the pussy, ass and throat. Drained and wobbly, he doesn’t stumble up out of here until almost three in the morning.

  Porsha

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Lord, puhleeeeeze don’t let this day turn into a nightmare, I think as Paris pulls up to the elegant country house known as the Manor in West Orange. Amidst its hand-carved ice sculptures and ornate flowers, the restaurant is considered one of the best places to dine in this area. And I must agree. It is wonderful. And it’s where our mother wanted to meet for Sunday brunch with the three of us; something we haven’t done in over a year. And, relunctantly, Persia and I agreed. I suppose this is Mother’s peace offering. But right at this moment, I’m anything but peaceful. I’m on pins and needles, hoping she doesn’t say or do anything that’s going to set Persia off. She’s already on edge, anticipating a conflict. And honestly, I believe it’s what she wants. A reason to make a scene and curse our mother
out. Growing up, that seemed to always be Persia’s mission; to do and say things to antagonize her. I’m silently praying that today isn’t one of those times.

  We’ve all been quiet for the most part of the ride here. Persia’s stared out of the passenger window and I’ve been texting, well sexting, back and forth with Emerson. He has my pussy sizzling with anticipation for what’s to come later today. I can’t get enough of him. My pussy, my body, my lips long for his mouth, his tongue, his touch. Thoughts of his hard-body pressed against the softness of mine makes me want to pull out my mini-vibrator, pull my panties to the side and fuck myself right here in the backseat. I press my thighs together. Text him, let him know how wet I am. Let him know how horny I am.

  Paris glances at me through her rearview mirror, then cuts her eyes over at Persia, who’s in the vanity mirror gliding a coat of lipgloss over her neatly painted lips. “Geesh, girl, you over there acting like we’re about to walk into a funeral.”

  Persia grunts, flipping up the visor, looking over at her. “Mmmph. More like walking into hell.”

  “It won’t be that hot,” I say, smiling at the picture he’s just sent of his hard dick. He tells me it’s all mine.

  “Please,” Persia says, craning her neck to look at me, “that woman’s a dragon and you know it.”

  Paris waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever. Let’s go in and try to have a nice time.” She opens her door and hands the attendant her keys as we step out of the vehicle. The three attendants blink, then do double-takes as we walk by. The three of us, heeled, bagged and dressed like runway models, flash them smiles, making our way to the door. “Persia, can you at least try to give Mom the benefit of the doubt? Don’t go in with a shitty ass attitude, looking for something to go wrong, please.”

  “Yeah, Persia,” I tease. “Don’t start pissing on fires that aren’t lit, yet.”

  She huffs, glancing over her shoulder to get a quick look at the young, buffed Italian guy who’s standing outside with an older woman waiting on their car. “Fine, but the minute she cranks it up, I’m going to get up and walk out. And if she goes too far, I’m going to embarrass her.”