The Pleasure Zone

by Cairo

  “Like you tryna throw the pussy at me,” he said bluntly. “That shit ain’t cool, yo. I mean. I’m flattered; don’t get it twisted. I’m a man. And, I’d love nothin’ more than beatin’ that thang up, word is bond. But, I’m tryna run a professional business ‘n’ it’s like you tryna sabotage shit. Tryna make it hard for me to do my job. I’m not diggin’ that, yo.”

  Nairobia’s cunt clenched at his street vernacular. He was so roguish. Yet, Nairobia instinctively knew he was also so deceptively gentle behind his tough exterior. She’d been around enough men to know a man with a heart. She wanted to crack open his shell, and drink him in.

  She studied him thoughtfully. Then smiled. “The only thing I want to make hard for you, my darling, is your cock. Not your job. Have I failed you?”

  “I got a girl,” he stated, circumventing the question. Of course he was hard. His dick started swelling the minute he’d stepped through the door and sat down. Lamar sensed he didn’t need to confirm or deny it because she already knew the answer when her gaze flitted to his crotch, then looked back up and smiled. He knew she knew. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she had some type of overpowering effect on him. She was a sexual magnet. And she craftily pulled him in every time he was near her. “She’s a good girl,” he said, not sure—at that moment, if he were trying to convince her or himself of that. “I’m not tryna fuck things up.”

  Undeterred, Nairobia stared at him; her eyes alight with curiosity and amusement. “That’s nice, my love. But does she appreciate you? Is she eager to swallow you in her cunt? Does she make your toes curl? Does she love being down on her knees worshipping your cock?” Nairobia sensually slid the tip of her tongue from between her lips, then slowly licked over the top of them. “Does her cunt stay wet and hungry for you?”

  He winced. No, of course she didn’t do any of that shit! And, hell no, she wasn’t eager about sex the way he was! That was one of the fucking problems. And, truth be told, it was slowly starting to eat away at him, like acid, corroding his senses. Cheating in the past had always been easy for him. He did it with no thought, or no regard for anyone else. But, nowadays, he was trying to do something different, trying to be different. But the shit was getting harder by the moment, right along with his fat dick.

  “We get it in,” he said, crossing his right ankle over his left knee. The words were forced. But he managed a straight face when he said them.

  “How many times a night?” Nairobia inquired.

  How many times a night? Ha! Was she fucking kidding him? He was lucky if he got it every other night, and that was a reach.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. “A young, virile man such as yourself, my love, should have his cock sucked into a warm mouth, and his seeds milked daily.”

  Lamar’s dick, heavy with arousal, jumped in his lap. He felt his nut swelling in his balls. He felt himself go tense, drawn, his body prickling with sexual awareness the way she looked at him. Those sinful gray eyes of hers threatening and promising pleasure like he’d never experienced.

  He was tempted, so, so, very tempted. His resolve was hanging by a thread, a very thin one at that. It was stretched to the limit. But it’d hadn’t broken…yet.

  Lamar took a deep breath and tried not to inhale, along with air, her mind-numbing scent. Foot back to the floor, he subconsciously opened and closed his legs. Opened. Closed. Opened. He fanned them out wide, then shut them tight, pressing his balls together, drawing Nairobia’s gaze back to his crotch.

  He stopped.

  “Listen, real talk, ma. I can’t keep workin’ under these conditions. If we can’t come to some type’a understanding, I’ma need to assign someone else to manage your security needs.”

  There went that rapacious smile of hers. Again. “I would hate to lose you, my darling. But if you must, then fine. Just as long as you manage my sexual needs before you walk out that door. Let me wrap you in my warmth, my love. Just one night.”

  Lamar groaned. His hunger, his overwhelming desire, his gnawing frustration evident in the fists at his side and the clenching muscles in his jaw. “You like fuckin’ wit’ muhfuckas, I see.”

  “No, my darling,” Nairobia purred. “I love fucking men who I desire. Men who moisten my cunt long before they ever touch me. You, my darling, moisten me.”

  Lamar bit down on his bottom lip to keep from roaring out a growl, roiling energy circling all around him.

  “Be clear, my love,” Nairobia said straightforward. “I don’t want to marry you. I want to fuck you cross-eyed. And I want you to fuck me blind. Then I want you to continue doing what I pay you to do. Provide my club’s security. And, to be on-call for whatever other security details I may need you and your company for. Nothing more, nothing less, my love.” She stood up from her seat and, with a sway of her hips, prowled around toward him, sliding a finger over the top of her desk as she did so. “Now remove your shades, my darling,” she demanded softly.

  “For what?” Lamar asked with a scowl.

  “Because, my love.” She ran a hand over his back, then massaged his shoulders. Lamar tensed. Then relaxed under her touch as she caressed his shoulders, then leaned over him and slid her hands up and down the length of his arms, feeling every bulge of muscle. He sat stone still, trying like hell to not seem fazed by her soft touches, or to let her see how aroused he was slowly becoming. Nairobia nipped at his ear, then whispered, “I want you to look me in the eye, like a man should, and tell me you don’t want to feel the inside of my kut.”

  He swallowed. “Nah, yo. I’m good on that.” The lie stung the tip of his tongue as he said it. But he needed to make a point. The point being—

  “Is your cock hard for me?” she boldly asked, sliding her hands down over the front of him, her fingertips flitting across his chiseled chest, then down to his six-pack. “My pussy is so wet for you. Do you want to neuk me.” Fuck me.

  He hissed in a shocked breath, then silently cursed. He knew he should shut her the fuck down, to stop her before he gave in and gave her what she’d been begging for since he’d taken on the security detail. A hard fuck.

  But her scent, her touch, her smooth, soft hands…

  Shit.

  The truth was, he wanted to rip her back out. Wanted to give her the dick the way she wanted it. How many cats from around the way would be able to say they’d actually fucked a real live, famous porn star?

  He grabbed her wrists, removing her hands from his body. “Like I said,” he reiterated sternly. “I gotta girl.”

  He released his grip on her wrists, and Nairobia smiled, straightening herself. She walked in front of him, her nipples jutting out on display. “And I’ve already told you my intentions, my darling. Your girl—as you say—can have you.” She took him in, and licked her luscious lips. She eased back on her desk, and spread open her thighs. “I don’t want you. I want your cock…”

  Nairobia widened her thighs, and Lamar’s gaze descended, his eyes flickering over her cunt, before narrowing intently. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny his throbbing erection straining to be free, or the fire burning through his gut.

  He felt himself unraveling by the second. He kept telling himself fuck the job. Just get up and leave. But something kept him seated, that something being the sight of her pussy. He eyed it as she peeled open two puffy petals of flesh and showed him her pink insides. “I’m so wet for you, my love. You want to taste it, no? Lick it? Sniff it? Fuck it?”

  She wanted him. Inside her. Now.

  He groaned inwardly. He had no fucking control with her, needed to get away. Fast. He mentally yelled at himself for sitting there and allowing this shit to go on. It bordered on disrespectful. It was blatant sexual harassment. But who the fuck was he kidding?

  He didn’t want to file complaints. He wanted to plow deep in her. The shit had his dick harder than granite. He rose to his feet as if unfazed by her lewd behavior, as if he had women flashing him all the time.

  His cock pulsed again
, stronger, harder.

  Nairobia eyed him like he was her dinner for the night, like a starved predator eying tender prey. She’d seen the long, heavy length of him. Her pussy clenched for it.

  His glare still riveted to her glistening sex, Lamar struggled to keep from licking his lips. He didn’t eat pussy, not that he hadn’t. He just didn’t eat anyone’s. And he rarely gave his girl head, mostly because she wasn’t serving up any herself. But Nairobia’s deliciously sweet-looking pussy, splayed open on display, made him want to dive in tongue deep.

  He swallowed, hard.

  Nairobia smiled at him. “My kut yearns to feel your tongue on it, to feel your cock and fingers in it. But I won’t taunt you, my love.”

  She closed her legs. Lowered the hem of her dress. Then stood to her feet.

  Feeling robbed, Lamar’s jaw tightened.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “Nairobia,” he rasped. “I’m warnin’ you, yo. Stop wit’ the bullshit ‘n’ just let me do my fuckin’—” He stopped himself. The ache in his hard, throbbing dick was making it difficult for him to think straight. Fucking Lana, man! Of all the broads he could have been with, why the fuck had he ended up with one who acted like a church secretary? No—scratch that shit. A goddamn nun!

  “Let me love you with my mouth,” Nairobia offered, the hunger in her pupils darkening. “I want to taste your semen on my tongue…”

  Lamar groaned. “I can’t keep doing this wit’ you, yo,” he grated. He finally removed his shades, and his hooded eyes flicked over Nairobia’s face.

  “You can’t keep doing what?” she asked, stepping in to him. “Denying yourself what we both know you ache for?” She ran her hand down over his chest again, then over his abs, before her palm descended lower.

  Oh my…

  He was hard and thick as she imagined he’d be. She dragged her hand over his erection. Instead of removing her hand, all he kept thinking was why the fuck Lana couldn’t be as hungry, as aggressive for him as she was? Why didn’t she just give him some head when he’d needed it the most? His balls were aching; he couldn’t think about anything else. But release.

  “Tell me, my love,” she purred, stepping in closer, surrounding him with her heat. Her lips were inches from his. “What can’t you keep doing?”

  “Wanting you. Imagining you,” he pushed out, surprising himself at the answer. His voice had gotten huskier. “You keep fuckin’ wit’ me, ma.”

  Her cunt clenched. She liked the way ma rolled off his tongue.

  “Indulge your desires, my love.” She reached for his fly. “And free yourself to the pleasure…”

  He gritted his teeth. “I’m telling you, yo. Stop fuckin’ wit’ me.”

  Nairobia swallowed, beginning to pant. “Or what?” she challenged, palming him again, squeezing his dick.

  This fucking broad was relentless. She wasn’t going to quit until he had her bent over her desk, with her ass in the air. But what was he really doing to stop her?

  Not a goddamn thing!

  His zipper went down.

  Fuck. This shit was all Lana’s fault. Nairobia’s hand went down into his jeans. Fuck. He needed somebody to blame for what he was considering. Lana should have been on her job at keeping her man happy. Should have given him some pussy, some head…something, instead of leaving him with blue balls. Lamar sighed. Maybe—for a greedy, unguarded moment, he could break Nairobia off some dick just this one time. That’s it. Dick her good so she could fall back from her BS, and let him do his fucking job without all the extras. No harm, no foul. Right?

  He was a grown-ass man with a hard-ass dick.

  She was a grown-ass woman with a fat-ass, wet pussy.

  They were both two consenting adults.

  So what he had a girl?

  She wasn’t fucking him right anyway.

  Afterward, he could blame his indiscretion on a moment of weakness, the result of a horny, throbbing dick and a lack of reasoning.

  Masculine heat and testosterone pulsed around them. He gave her a look, so raw, so primal that it made Nairobia’s simmering juices pool in the center of her cunt.

  THIRTY-ONE

  He’d been hanging onto that thin thread, trying desperately to maintain his composure, but she’d kept fucking with him until he’d snapped. Suddenly Lamar was against Nairobia, panting in her face. “Is this what you want, huh?” He growled low in her ear, grinding himself into her. “This hard dick?”

  He tried to use restraint. But it was too late. He was beside himself. Drunk in lust. He was staggering in need. He knew his delusions of staying away from her and not fucking her had been wishful thinking. She’d pushed him to the edge. And now he was determined to bring them both over the sexual cliff.

  Before he could think straight—talk himself out of it, he had her pinned up against the wall. Her arms up over her head, he held both wrists in place with one hand, restraining her, trying to tamp down his fury and desire. “I warned you to stop ya bullshit, yo. But you wanna keep fuckin’ wit’ me. You like teasin’ muhfuckas, huh?”

  “Fuck me,” Nairobia goaded. “Fuck me senseless, if you dare.”

  She saw heat and anger flash in his eyes, and her pussy clenched.

  Fearlessly, she moaned. She wasn’t afraid he’d hurt her. She wanted him to hurt her. Wanted him to rob her of her juices and steal her soul. She knew he was open and voracious for her. She knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d break his resolve.

  And she had.

  Now she had him right where she wanted him. His body pressed against hers, between her thighs, smoldering need enflaming them.

  And she was looking forward to the delicious repercussions.

  “I’m warnin’ you, yo. You playing wit’ fire.”

  She dared him with her eyes, blazing in raw passion. “Mmm. Burn me, my darling. My kut is already in flames. Slide your cock in my heat. Burn me with your hard thrusts. Take my pussy. And let’s go up in flames together.”

  She licked at his face.

  Lamar tightened his grip on her wrists. She thought this a game. Thought he was some fucking toy. And that knowing only incensed him more. With his free hand, he ripped her dress open, baring her breasts.

  Nairobia’s heart stopped at the sound of tearing fabric. She wasn’t going to resist. She welcomed it. And had he been lucid enough to realize that fact, he would have surely seen she wasn’t fighting him. That she’d manipulated this—this sordid encounter.

  Lamar grabbed the slit of her dress and yanked. The thin, silky fabric tore open, exposing her bare pussy.

  Her left breast exposed, Nairobia moaned as her nipple peaked.

  “I told you to fall the fuck—”

  Lamar never finished the thought. Hands pinned tightly against the wall, Nairobia leaned in and crashed her mouth against his and prowled inside, kissing him with a ferocity that snatched his breath. He didn’t kiss random broads. Ever. But here he was, caught up in her wicked kiss, his tongue searching greedily for hers. She bit down on his lip. Dug her nails into his flesh. And that sent him reeling, barreling over in aching lust.

  She was a whore, for fuck’s sake! Of course she wanted it rough. That’s what whores liked. Rough, dirty fucking. He’d been chained to vanilla sex for far too damn long. Now he wanted something different. Nairobia had pulled a beast out of him from somewhere he hadn’t known existed.

  Somewhere dark.

  Letting go of her wrists, Lamar broke their heated kiss and stepped back from her, savagely ripping off her dress, the garment finally fluttering to the floor around her feet. He took in her naked body, and something flared in his eyes. Obsession.

  He wanted her. His dick ached for her.

  “I’ma fuck the shit outta you,” he growled, impatience and need thrumming through his veins.

  Nairobia taunted him with a sexy grin. “Promise, my love?”

  His nose flared. “I’m not fuckin’ playin’ wit’ you.” He yanked his shirt off over his head and threw it a
cross the room.

  Nairobia’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “Then give me what I want. Neuk me, klootzak! Mijn honger kut voeden met je harde lul.”

  Lamar’s jaw tightened. “What did you just say to me, yo?” His dark tone made Nairobia shiver. The way his eyes darkened made her body burn.

  “I said fuck me, motherfucker! Feed my hungry pussy with your hard dick.”

  Her words shocked him. But why should they? He’d heard her curse in her films. Knew she liked dirty talk. He’d watched enough of her movies to know. As classy as she was, she still liked it filthy. Still, he hadn’t expected it, completely. Yet, it turned him on.

  Surprising her and himself, Lamar picked her up, shoved her back against the wall and took her mouth fiercely, giving her a hot, dirty kiss; the kiss blanking his mind as her tongue melded into his. He knew he’d regret this in the morning. But, this very moment, he didn’t give a fuck. He had to have her.

  Breaking from their long, hot, tongue-lingering kiss, Lamar bent to her breasts and sucked them into his mouth, one after the other, hard. Nairobia groaned in pleasure, arching toward him, digging her fingers in his locks, and raking her nails in his scalp.

  Lamar groaned as he sucked her nipples. Then slowly bit into each one. Nairobia cried out, her hips slowly winding, grinding her wet pussy into him. She was so caught up in the heat and the moment that she didn’t know when he had the time to unfasten his jeans and pull down his boxers before she felt his dick. It was thick. And heavy. And deliciously curved.

  Her pussy clenched for it.

  “Yes, yes, yes…you sexy, motherfucker…mmm…u grote lul thug…”

  She called him a big-dick thug, but all he understood was the word thug. “Yeah, baby, I’ma thug, muhfucka. You want this thug dick, huh,” he gasped as he tore his mouth away, breathing roughly. Heat bubbled in his veins. “You want me to bust ya guts up…?”

  She didn’t speak. She trapped him with a wrenching glare instead, sending Lamar’s blood boiling. In one swift motion, he reached under her right leg and pulled it up over his arm. He slammed his dick in. Rough, uncaring. One motion and he was balls deep inside her. And Nairobia gasped. He pushed her leg further back, her toes touching the wall. She was unbelievably flexible. And wet. So fucking wet.