The Pleasure Zone

by Cairo

  Truth be told, Marcel wasn’t sure he was even ready for anything serious with anyone. His balls were full, but his heart was empty. He simply needed a sexual outlet, a fuck hole to lose himself in—and not through some random hookup site, or at some nightclub. He’d even given up jet-setting across the globe to the swanky, invite-only sex parties he and Marika attended religiously over the years. Going would’ve only reminded him of what he now no longer had. His wife.

  When Marika were alive, he’d always seduced her in a way that made it easy for her to toss caution to the wind and freely give herself to him. No matter where they were. He’d known how to keep her aroused, on fire, burning. Just for him.

  And she’d done the same.

  Giving him unrelenting pleasure.

  During their sixteen-year marriage, he’d belonged to Marika. Only her. She’d been everything he’d ever needed. They’d been equally yoked in mind, body and soul. She’d welcomed his sexual yearnings. And he’d openly embraced hers. His wants and desires had been hers as well; each always focused on the other’s desires. Together they’d had some of the most explosive sexual encounters during their marriage.

  Sometimes, when he inhaled deeply, Marcel could still smell her sweet musky scent; it clung thickly in the air around him, intoxicating him, driving him crazy. He’d loved the smell of her wet pussy. And he missed it immensely with each passing day.

  He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

  Now…here he was.

  Needing Nairobia.

  Wanting Nairobia.

  Yearning for release. In her mouth, her pussy, her ass. He wanted all three holes, but was willing to accept whichever hole she was willing to give him. Tonight, her warm, wet mouth would be his receptacle. His cum dump.

  If she were willing.

  Otherwise, he was fine with the scent of her on his lips, stained on his tongue. He would feast on her, releasing blissful moans from her, wringing out one orgasm after another until she came in his mouth, until she melted all over his tongue, until he was full from her juices.

  Holding the door open for him, the doorman used his key card to swipe for access to the penthouse. “Go right up, Sir,” he said, slicing into Marcel’s lustful memory.

  Marcel glanced at the man’s plated nametag. “Thanks, Stewart.”

  “Hope you enjoy your visit,” he said.

  “That’s the plan,” Marcel shot back, then smiled.

  The doorman grinned slyly as if he knew something Marcel didn’t just as the elevators doors closed. Marcel’s dick throbbed harder. His balls ached so bad for release he could nut in his drawers right on the spot.

  Nairobia stood naked in a pair of six-inch Louis Vuitton heels in the middle of her elaborate foyer when the elevator door finally slid open. She couldn’t wait to feel Marcel’s strong hands cupping her ass, kneading over her sensitive flesh. Parting, spreading; his tongue licking the opening of her pussy and nudging inward pulling out to lick over her clit.

  She decided she wouldn’t be a selfish lover…not tonight. Her intention had been to simply lower her kut down over his face and feed him her sweet, juicy sex. But as she waited for his arrival, her desire to taste him—again—intensified. So she now intended to suck his cock into her mouth. Thick veins roped around a big thick dick, she planned on licking up and down the length of him with her tongue, bathing him with her spit and drool and heat.

  Marcel watched her smile with feline cunning, before her voice floated over toward him in a husky whisper as she said, “What took you so long, my darling, MarSell? Mijn natte kut heeft gewacht voor u…”

  Yes. Her wet pussy had been waiting for him, for his tongue, for his fingers…for a blissful release. Marcel looked her over from head to toe as he stalked toward her, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his custom-tailored shirt. He knew very little Dutch, but he smelled her arousal, saw the flames of desire swooping up around her, and knew her pussy needed some tender loving just as much as his hard cock did. Seeing her completely naked, ready and waiting to be served up like a delightful feast was what he craved. She was every horny man’s wet dream.

  Her nipples were erect, plump like two juicy, seedless grapes. And Marcel couldn’t wait to taste them, to lick them, to pop them into his wet mouth.

  He pulled off his tie. Yanked open the buttons of his shirt. Then pulled his crisp white T-shirt out from the waistband of his slacks and dragged it upward, revealing smooth chocolate skin, flat abdominal muscles. He threw his shirt carelessly to the floor.

  “Je ne peux pas attender de lécher ta chatte,” he said as he prowled closer. Oh how he couldn’t wait to lick her pussy. He wanted to lick her to climax.

  He swiped his tongue over his lips.

  He was so close that Nairobia could smell the crisp scent of his cologne and the musky heat of his skin. She couldn’t take it any longer. This torture, these slow ticks of the second hand. It was all too much for her.

  Marcel’s manhood swelled and strained against the fabric of his pants. Nairobia’s gaze shifted to his crotch, then down the length of his right thigh. There it was. So long, so thick, so, so…snakelike. She couldn’t wait to suck its head into her mouth.

  As Marcel stalked closer, Nairobia backed up a step, then another, lifting her right breast up, extending her tongue and licking around her areola. Her nipple.

  She licked it until it pebbled into a hard bead. Then smiled at Marcel. He groaned, arousal and jealousy swimming in his dark eyes. He wanted his mouth, his tongue where hers had been.

  He reached for her. Not a word was said when he pulled her into him, against his hard body. Nairobia’s breath caught. His masculinity, his manliness, his powerful existence, overwhelmed her senses. And she felt herself melting against him.

  She drew up on her tiptoes. “I will love you with my mouth and tongue,” she whispered. She licked at the shell of his ear. “Then capture you in the back of my throat and swallow your sweet milk.”

  She pressed her lips against his, then kissed him senseless. As she pried his mouth open with her tongue and slid inside, she could taste the hint of peppermint and cognac. Her eyes turned somnolent with desire as Marcel groaned, his lips pressing harder.

  Within seconds, Nairobia’s hand snaked its way between his thighs and her fingers curled around his cock, stretching to his knee. She’d never quite mastered sucking the entire length of him into her mouth. Eleven inches, the most. But tonight she promised herself she’d choke to death trying to swallow the remaining two inches.

  When she broke the kiss, he smiled down at her. Then whispered, “Ik wil al je pik in mijn natte mond.” She wanted all of his cock inside her wet mouth. And she found herself becoming crazed with want. She stroked him several times for emphasis, before he removed her hand, then brought it up to his lips. He kissed the inside of her palm. Then let his hands travel along the curves of her body. He grabbed her at the hips, then lowered himself until he was eye level to her sweet cunt.

  He bathed her stomach in kisses, stuck his tongue in her navel, and caused her flesh to quiver. “Spread your legs open for me, baby,” he urged softly, his gaze fixed on the mocha-colored hood of her clitoris as she opened her thighs. She took her hands and spread herself open to him.

  Marcel stared at her glistening, puffy mound.

  God, she was stunning.

  Then he looked up into her smoldering gray eyes and grinned. His eyes glittered with heat and lust as he said, “Your pussy is so beautiful, baby.” He repeated himself in French. “Ta chatte est si belle…”

  He moved his face in, and lapped at it until her pink clit distended.

  Nairobia moaned. Grabbed the back of his head. “Lick me, my love. Mmm…yes…taste me…”

  Then, as if she’d willed her juices to flow, nectar trickled out of her slit. And, without thought, Marcel licked that one drop of dew as if she were a piece of ripened fruit, his tongue touching her opening. His hands captured her ass, and he dug his fingers into the globes of her flesh w
hile he stroked her clit and sucked at her. Nairobia threw her head back and moaned his name.

  “Yes, my darling, yes…mmm…tongue my pussy, MarShell…mmm…yes, yes, yes…mijn zoete kut tong…”

  Marcel’s tongue lapped at her labia. Probed between the folds of her opening. Then devoured her, so hungry, so greedy, he licked over her pussy, enjoying the taste of her, savoring it. He fucked her in and out with his tongue, the rapid-fire flickering of each stroke drew moans from somewhere deep as he licked and sucked her in all the right spots.

  He plunged a finger inside her, causing Nairobia’s back to arch. She purred for him as he stroked her inner walls. She tightened around his finger.

  Then one finger became two. And Nairobia slowly rolled her hips, then began to fuck herself down on his oversized hand as the pleasure pulsed through her. She was all slippery heat, her cunt frantically clutching around Marcel’s fingers. He groaned, his steel-hard cock aching, his balls throbbing for release.

  Fuck. He ached all over for her. He wanted to fuck, to take every hole she owned with force and fiery heat.

  Marcel sucked her swollen clit back into his mouth, fucked her with his fingers until they both felt the sweet storm swirling up inside her, rising higher and higher, crashing harder and harder.

  He had her right where he wanted her. On the edge.

  She mewled, her nails digging into his scalp. Her eyes became half-lidded, the gray becoming smoky as Marcel licked and licked, his tongue feeling like wet flames against her clit. Nairobia was on the verge of coming all over his face, drowning him in her juices.

  She cried out in pleasure. Spoke vulgar and dirty to him in her native tongue. Told him over and over to fuck her with his fingers, his tongue. To lick her pussy, tongue her ass. She cursed him for having such a luscious greedy mouth, for being such a splendid pussy eater. She cursed him for lavishing her cunt and clit with so much sweet affection all the way to the crack of her ass.

  Right at this moment, she hated him for being so goddamn good. But she loved his wickedly talented mouth.

  Oh, God, how she loved…his sweet licks.

  Marcel’s dick jumped furiously, impatiently, wanting to feel the warmth and wetness of her mouth, the soft touch of her hands, the greedy need of her tongue. All he could think about was her mouth swallowing around his cock, milking him, allowing it to slide nearly from her glossed lips, before she swirled her tongue over and around his bulbous head, teasing it. The image alone had him ready to nut. But he refused to unleash his beast until he’d taken her to euphoria, until her knees buckled and she fell limp from an exquisite release.

  Until she surrendered to him.

  Until she turned everything she was over to him.

  He sucked her clit harder—almost savagely, causing her pussy to ripple over his fingers. She cupped and molded her swollen breasts, then tweaked at her nipples.

  “Uhhh, uhhhh…ooooh…yes, my darling…yes, yes, yessss…!”

  Liquid pleasure scorched through her cunt, sending her spiraling over the edge. Marcel groaned into her, hummed his desire for her and, in that instant, fire danced through her entire body.

  Nairobia’s head whipped from side to side, her nails clawing at his scalp as she stood on the brink of—

  Delicious sensation.

  Fiery energy.

  Sweet torture.

  Heated pleasure.

  Marcel’s tongue danced at her entrance, her clit captured between his teeth, his masculine fingers plunged knuckles deep.

  Nairobia stopped breathing, started gasping, her veins threatening to burst.

  A waterfall surged, then erupted, spraying out of her body. Marcel drank her in, gulping in as much of her juices as his already full mouth could swallow. He sucked and licked her to the very last drop. Then rose to his feet.

  His face glistened, soaked from her sex juices. He licked his lips. Sucked on his fingers. Licked his lips again. “Don’t move,” he commanded as he kicked off his loafers. Unfastened his slacks and stepped out of them. Off came his underwear. His heavy dick sprang upward, pointing out like a tree branch.

  Nairobia’s body still quaked from her orgasm and the sight of him only intensified her spasms. She stood frozen in place, her drenched labia throbbing for more of him. Marcel was all muscle. And long, hard dick. She didn’t trust herself not to move, not to reach out for his cock, for him, so she ran her fingers over her pussy, then dug two fingers inside and gathered her sticky arousal as Marcel stroked himself.

  “You want this dick between your lips, baby…?” he muttered, his hand slowly moving back and forth along his veined shaft.

  She touched her soaked fingers to her mouth. She opened it, then hungrily licked.

  “Yes, my darling,” she muttered over her fingers. “I want. I need…”

  “To suck this dick,” Marcel responded. And then he swept in, spun her around, grabbed her at the waist, and lifted her up off her feet. It all happened so quickly, so expertly, that all she could do was gasp. She bent at the waist, her ass in his face, as she leaned her head in, parted her lips and sucked the head of his moistened dick into her mouth.

  “Aaaaah, shit,” Marcel hissed. “Sucer la bite, bébé.”

  And she did as he commanded.

  Sucked his dick as he pressed his face into her cunt.

  The feast had only just begun…

  NINETEEN

  Nairobia opened her eyes, and stretched, feeling deliciously satiated from her torrid night of cunnilingus. Marcel had been a man of his word when he’d said he wanted to lick her to pleasure. He and his extraordinary tongue had done just that, leaving no parts of her body untouched. He’d loved on her cunt, laved on her clit, and drank in her spurting juices with so much passion that she’d felt the room spinning as he feasted on every part of her swollen sex, sending shivers over her sensitive skin.

  She couldn’t remember if she’d shown him out. And she couldn’t remember exactly when she’d drifted off to sleep. But the minute she heard the light snores beside her, her breath caught. Oh no, no, no. Say it isn’t so…

  She slowly turned her head to the left of her. And her eyes widened. She shot up in bed.

  Oh God.

  It was so.

  There he was in her bed. Naked. The sheets whirled around him. Sleeping like a baby. Lightly snoring. This was a no-no. She allowed no man to sleep in her bed—or stay the night, ever. And the only lover she’d had in her bed most recently had been her boy-toy, Josiah. She’d given him a taste of her kut, then rewarded him for licking out multiple orgasms with a generous dose of pussy as she climbed up over him, positioned his thick cock between her lips so she could slide down over him. His strong, pulsing cock had felt so good in her. It always felt good in her. She’d ridden him into her fire, burning him with each stroke, owning him, taking what she needed from him until his neck arched, his back bowed upward from the bed, and he’d released a pleasured hiss between clenched teeth as she clutched his dick and cream flowed from her body. His cry of release, the sound so masculine, so wild, so…needy had caused her cunt to spasm and wring out another climax. Then after she’d freed his balls of its warm milk, she’d kissed him deeply on the mouth, and sent him to the guestroom.

  Josiah was her only lover…at the moment.

  But this, this thing with Marcel was not good. Him snuggled up in her sheets, like some long-lost lover. How had he managed to stay the night?

  Her gaze riveted on his chiseled back, then locked on his muscled ass. His body was divine. And his humongous cock…

  Sweet Jesus.

  She blinked back the memory of the sweet burn she’d experienced the first time Marcel slid it inside her. It’d taken her back to her first time with Lexington Steele when she was a virgin starring in her first porno. Lexington had been so big, so thick, so damn excruciating and deliciously good. But Marcel had been much bigger, much thicker, much more delicious. And his cock pushing past her swollen folds, stretching her slit, had been like havi
ng her hymen broken for the first time all over again. The pain had been both shocking and sweet.

  It’d seared her cunt as he’d blasted heat through her, while his wife…

  Marika.

  She stiffened, then hissed at the thought of her being gone. That first time together in Dubai three years ago, Marika had helped guide Marcel’s luscious cock into her quivering cunt, before lowering her own scrumptious pussy over Nairobia’s face, then leaning forward and kissing Marcel passionately. The two of them had set her body ablaze with their raw passion, made her pussy ache with desire…for the both of them.

  Oh how she’d loved having them in her chambers. Their openness about sex and sexuality was refreshing. Intoxicating. Sexy. There were so many fond memories of the two of them tracing their tongues over her cunt, their fingers diving into her wetness, their fingers sliding over and around her cunt, feeling how slick she’d become; their tongues teasing her clit, then sliding fingers deep inside her; fingers teasing her ass. Their tongues and fingers had been wild for her, craved the taste of her, the feel of her. She’d become their sweetest guilty pleasure.

  And they’d become hers.

  She swallowed, her gaze narrowing as she stared at miles of rich, dark-chocolate muscle that made her gasp. She hadn’t been drinking last night, but surely she’d fallen into a drunken slumber sometime in the middle of the night—with his mouth latched onto her clit and his tongue wedged between her folds—for him to still be in her bed.

  Though he had not been asked to leave, Nairobia felt violated. She felt…slightly peeved—the gall of him to invite himself to the warmth and comforts of her luxurious red sheets.

  She held her breath as she slid her hand between her thighs to make sure he’d hadn’t stolen her cunt in the still of the night. Relieved that her slit was not stretched wide, she breathed out. Of course she would have still felt him throbbing inside her had he’d taken her last night. The stretch and burn she remembered had always been so much more delicious the next day—following a night of slow, deep fucking.