The Pleasure Zone

by Cairo

  Lamar groaned, his hips pressing against hers, causing a delicious heat against her clit. He felt his dick at the mouth of her cervix, and nearly lost it. Her pussy was maddening. Lifting her other leg up, he pinned her firmly against the wall. And stroked himself into her clutching heat. He felt himself on the verge of explosion.

  Already.

  He pulled out. And then it hit him. He wasn’t wearing a condom.

  Fuck.

  It was too late to turn back now. He was already teetering, dangerously unraveling. Already being reckless. He’d already felt her raw insides. And he wanted more of it. Gripping her hips, Lamar probed her slick, creamy cunt with his cock, the head pooling with pre-cum, tickling the center of her slit. He pushed his way back in. She was tight, so goddamn amazingly tight, tighter than he imagined. How could that be?

  Her cunt had tons of dick miles on it and, yet, here she was tighter than his girl. He hadn’t even been back inside her more than a minute and already the base of his spine tingled. Her snug walls created a sinful friction that made him dizzy.

  He had to blink back the stars floating around him. He shut his eyes tight. Then opened them.

  Nairobia grabbed his dick, her walls milking his shaft. “Fuck me,” she whispered, her gaze locked on his. “Give me your thick, black dick, my love…oooh…yes…yes…give my kut your cock and cream…” Her body opened to him, welcoming him. He entered her deep. Pleasure burned his gut, clutched his balls, and made him weak-kneed.

  Stroking, stroking, stroking, he was becoming lost in pleasure, lost in her. “Aaah…oh shit…yeah, baby…uhhh…you so muthafuckin’ wet…”

  “Ja, ja, ja…take my kut, fucker…dig your cock deep in me…”

  He slammed in her. “Oh, you wanna talk shit, huh, bitch?”

  Whap!

  Her hand came hard across his face. Being called a bitch excited her. Slapping him was to anger him so he’d call her out of her name again.

  Lamar’s face stung. His pupils flared. He pulled out, and slammed harder inside her, his curved cock boomeranging around her walls, hitting every nook, every crack, of her core. Each thrust slammed her back into the wall.

  He grated, “Is this”—thrust—“what”—harder thrust—“you want?”—unrestrained thrust”—“Me bangin’ ”—deeper thrust—“your muthafuckin’ ”—savage thrust—“guts out?”

  Nairobia couldn’t stop moaning if she wanted to. He felt too good inside her, his curve, his thickness…so delicious. Her cunt grasped and pulsed around him, milking him, as his cock swept around her walls. Curved cock was divine. He was divine.

  “This what the fuck you wanted, right? Huh, bitch? A hard fuck?” he bit out, pummeling deep inside her, fucking her mercilessly.

  She dug her nails into his shoulders, and he hissed. “Motherfuck. I didn’t wanna give you this dick”—two hard thrusts—“but… uhh…you wanna”—three hard thrusts—“keep fuckin’ wit’ me…aaah…shiiit…”

  Nairobia’s breath, hot on his neck, burned his flesh. His throat. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the thick tendons and the way his Adam’s apple moved. She sunk her teeth into the column of his neck. Bit his lips. And called him every dirty name imaginable.

  Lamar’s pulse spiked. Everything about her was paralyzing. She had him practically shivering. “You have me so fuckin’ hot for you,” he rasped. “Got me cheatin’ on my fuckin’ girl. Fuckin’ scandalous bitch.”

  Whap!

  She slapped him again, her pussy wildly clutching around friction and heat.

  Lamar growled. “Fuckin’ whore…slut…uhh…good muthafuckin’ pussy…shiiiit…” He slammed in and out, in and out, harder, faster.

  “Choke me, vreemdgaan motherfucker,” Nairobia hissed, calling him a cheating motherfucker. “Ja, ja, ja…”

  Lamar’s hand went to her neck, and he pressed until her eyes widened. Until she clawed at the wall, until the mouth of her cervix snapped at the head of his cock, until she soaked him and a delicious pleasure swirled up and around his balls. An avalanche of raging desire swelled in his cock. He thrust in and out of her body, his strokes relentless.

  Lamar moaned as his climax neared. Nairobia reached for his pebbled nipples and pinched them as she orgasmed around his cock. His muscles bulged. Electricity soared through him. He threw his head back and let out a ferocious growl that vibrated through her body. His legs shook. A moment later, his seed gushed hotly inside her, and his world nearly went blank.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Sure he’d climaxed quick. But the way his curved cock swept around in her cunt, Nairobia wouldn’t hold his speedy release against him. Lamar’s cock had so much potential that she wasn’t the least bit agitated that he’d not been able to last long. Though she’d hoped he could handle her slick heat, she really hadn’t expected him to. In fact, most men couldn’t. Not the first time anyway.

  So there was no surprise there.

  She chuckled to herself as she eyed him wiping his sticky cock with a warm, soapy cloth that she’d handed him, then drying his cock and balls off with a plush towel before stuffing himself back into his underwear.

  Nothing was said between them.

  He’d fucked her hard, every controlled thrust bursting with power, his cock claiming her wetness, his balls slapping at the back of her. Yes. The cock was good, so she already decided she would allow him an opportunity at redemption. Until then, she would let him stew in his failure. Let him wallow in his disappointment.

  Lamar finished dressing, unable to look at her.

  His dick wasn’t little by any means, but he felt small. His pride shriveled.

  He was disgusted with himself for being weak, for fucking her. But more overpowering than that was his embarrassment. He wasn’t a minuteman, but in a matter of a hundred-and-fifty-strokes or so, she’d managed to reduce him to one.

  What the fuck?

  All that fine ass and he couldn’t deliver the pounding he’d threatened her with. He’d had her up against the wall, pinned up like a real live pinup poster, fucking into her tight, wet heat when something snapped inside of him. She’d slapped him and pinched his nipples and that made him lose it. He exploded. The nut was good. Damn good. But that wasn’t the point. Yeah, he wanted to nut. Needed it. But, he still wanted to make sure she knew he’d been up in her. He wanted to pound her insides out. Make her feel his hard dick still throbbing in her long after he was done and gone.

  And he’d failed—miserably.

  Fuck.

  He’d never had pussy that damn good in his life. The way her walls grabbed his dick, all that wetness, all them juicy slurping sounds it made…like his dick was being sucked while he was fucking her. Pussy that good was dangerous.

  But he wanted another round. Just one more time to show her what he was really made of. Not some fast-nutting whimp. He was a man. A muhfucka who made broads’ jaws lock and had them running from his deadly curve. But Nairobia was a professional dick taker. She hadn’t run from shit. She’d molded to it.

  And made him nut quick.

  Yeah, he was sulking. He knew his dick game was on point. He knew how to dick a broad down right. So what the fuck happened?

  Lana’s non-fucking ass happened. He’d been too backed up and too goddamn overheated. Yeah. That’s what had happened. He suffered from sexual neglect. And the end result was a fast nut. Period.

  Still, there was no fucking way he’d ever mention this shit to any of his boys. He’d be the brunt of every joke under the sun for at least a week or more.

  Shit.

  Lamar reached down and scooped up his crumpled black T-shirt. He didn’t remember ever taking it off, but there it was strewn on the floor. He pulled it on over his head, hoping like hell the wrinkles would stretch out over his muscled chest.

  Nairobia watched him intently. She knew his ego was bruised. But she wasn’t about to soothe him with words of encouragement. He should have pulled out, changed positions, given his nut time to roll back in his balls, someth
ing. Not keep pounding into her kut, like he was Batman. But she knew he couldn’t help himself. He’d been too greedy for her. Now look at him.

  Head hung low.

  Ego deflated.

  Lamar picked his shades up from the carpeted floor and slid them back onto his face. Nairobia glanced at the time. It was a quarter to nine. The club would open soon. She felt herself becoming aroused all over again at the thought of another night of free-spirited debauchery.

  “See you downstairs, no?” Nairobia inquired, staring at his back as he made his way toward the door; the words: THE PLEASURE ZONE stretched in gold lettering between his shoulder blades.

  “Yeah,” he said over his shoulder.

  Nairobia smiled, and the sight of her plump lips still swollen from their heated kisses made him groan inwardly.

  He’d really fucked up.

  “Vergeven jezelf, my darling,” she called out to him.

  Lamar paused in the doorway, turned around and stared at her.

  He scowled. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, forgive yourself.”

  His throat tightened. He swallowed the knot.

  “For what?” he asked, his hand on the doorknob, already knowing the answer.

  Nairobia gave him a look, one filled with compassion, then said, “For losing yourself to me.”

  Lamar said nothing, simply walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Poor thing.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Lamar locked the bathroom door, then made sure all the stalls were empty, before going to the sink and turning the water on. He rubbed his temples and sighed as he stood in the mirror and stared at himself. He’d fucked up. Royally. Motherfuck. He should have never let his emotions and his underserved libido get the best of him. But he had. And now he felt like shit.

  Not even a full fifteen minutes of fucking. That’s all he had been able to deliver. What was it about that broad that had him coming fast and hard?

  Lamar was pissed that his dick had failed him. Right when he needed it to be at peak performance, his motherfucking cock flopped. Now this bitch thinks I’m some lame-ass muhfucka. He gritted his teeth. Muhfucka, you shoulda kept ya dick in ya pants. That’s what ya dumb ass get!

  Yeah, he loved pussy. But he wasn’t weak for it. At least, he hadn’t been. He hoped not to ever be. But what was it about this fucking broad that had him off his game?

  That fucking ass of hers, those hypnotizing eyes, them sexy-ass lips, her soft, curvy hips…and oh, fuck. The way she talked all dirty ‘n’ shit in whatever language she’d spoken in his ear.

  It had his head spinning.

  He wanted to blame his current predicament on Lana’s ass for being all stingy with the pussy. But the shit was all on him. He knew it. And it made him feel like such an ass. He’d screwed up. Not her.

  Now he’d have to crawl up in bed with her and look her in the face and hope like hell she never asked him if he’d cheated on her. Getting head was one thing. But straight up fucking another broad was a whole other thing. He’d be forced to give her the truth. Raw.

  The way he’d given it to Nairobia.

  He groaned.

  Fuck.

  Muhfucka, you all kinds of crazy! Goin’ in raw. What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, yo? He swallowed back the memory of how deep he’d felt inside her. So damn deep. The way he’d driven into her hard and fast. And how wet and hot she’d felt around him.

  He shook his head, and cursed under his breath.

  The bitch obviously knew she affected him.

  He dragged a hand over his face.

  He needed something to relax him. Badly.

  And then it hit him.

  He hadn’t smoked in over a month. That coupled with not getting pussy on the regular was what had him on edge. Had him vulnerable…and all fucked up.

  He needed a blunt.

  He let out a breath and closed his eyes tight. Everything about what went down up in Nairobia’s office was all types of wrong. But the pussy felt so good. The way she’d opened up to him. Took in his massive curve. Grew wetter around him. The way her touch had his body on fire. No broad had ever made his blood boil the way she had. The way she always did, from the minute he’d laid eyes on her.

  All that shit felt so fucking right at that moment, no matter how dead wrong he was for having her pressed up against the wall like that. No matter how much he enjoyed being inside her. The shit was wrong. Dead wrong.

  But, oh so fucking good!

  He opened his eyes again, and when he looked back into the mirror, he hated what he saw even more. Fucking clients wasn’t his M.O. Not usually.

  But he’d done it twice already. With two separate clients.

  And with either of them, he did nothing to stop it. They’d asked for it. And he wanted to give it to them.

  But this time was different. He had a girl.

  Shit.

  Not for long, though, if she didn’t start fucking him right. In the streets, Lamar could be ruthless. Gully. And dangerous. But there was another side of him when it came to women, especially the ones he took an interest in. He’d give them the shirt off his back if they needed it. And he’d gladly give them his hard dick, on call, if they wanted that too. Anything they needed, anything they wanted, he’d make it happen. No questions asked.

  He leaned in and splashed cold water on his face. He had to get his head in the game. He had a job to do tonight. There was no time to let this shit fuck up his paper. Period. He reached for one of the white complimentary face cloths and dried his face, then shut the water off. He stared at his reflection again. He thought back on the first time he’d linked up with Pasha. She’d sucked his dick like no other female had in his life. She’d spun his top so good that he’d come in her mouth in less than eight minutes, then had staggered backward, collapsing on her bed.

  He clenched his jaw. Nairobia and Pasha both had a way with making him nut fast. The shit wasn’t a good look.

  I ain’t no fuckin’ minuteman!

  Lamar’s cell buzzed in his front pocket. Pulling it out, he sighed. Speaking of the devil in designer heels. His voice was hoarse when he answered, “Yo?”

  “Well, hello, stranger,” she said sweetly. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d give you a call to let you know you were being thought of.”

  His expression hardened. “Yo, Pasha. Why the fuck you put me on to this broad, yo?”

  She blinked, taken aback by his harsh tone. Then her eyes widened. “Ohmygod, no.” She gasped. “Tell me you didn’t…”

  He hesitated.

  “Yo, my dick got hard,” he said, sighing. “What the fuck else was I supposed to do when all she does it flaunt all that ass up in my face?”

  “You take a cold shower. You go home to your woman,” she ticked off. “You lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off.”

  “Yeah, fuck a cold shower. And fuck a bathroom stall, yo. And Lana’s dumb-ass not fuckin’ this week. So what the fuck was I s’posed to do? I needed my dick in somethin’ wet.”

  Pasha laughed, not surprised that Nairobia had finally had her way with him. She just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. She thought Lamar would be able to resist temptation. Then again…he hadn’t been able to resist her, either, when she’d summoned him to her, the first time. “Ohmygod, you’re a mess,” she said.

  He groaned. “Don’t remind me, yo. How you ‘n’ the boys?”

  “Oh, no, little daddy,” she said playfully. “I’m fine. And my sons are fine. But you do not get to change the subject.”

  He groaned. “Nah, fuck that. I’d rather we did.”

  “Not until you tell me. How was it?”

  “Yo, word is bond, Pasha. That bitch is deadly.”

  And the fucked-up thing was…

  He wanted her again.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Candles flickered about Nairobia’s living room.


  Staring into the flames, she held up the only picture she had of her father. Oba Chukwu. She didn’t know why she’d held on to it. But she had. Taking it everywhere she’d ever been, hidden in a jeweled lockbox in her traveling trunk.

  He was the first man Nairobia had had wrapped around her fingers, the man who’d showered her with adoration and kisses and fabulous gifts. Up until the moment he’d turned his back on her, she’d been the center of his universe. Then—snap—he’d disowned her. Just like that. Because she hadn’t conformed to his expectations of what—and whom—he believed she should be.

  His dreams for her hadn’t been hers. And she’d refused to allow him to decide her life for her. That had been a defining moment for Nairobia. As a result, she’d carved out her own path in life. Not once, ever, looking back.

  She wished more women were like that. Determined. Unyielding. Not allowing a man to define them. Or confine them.

  But most weren’t.

  She’d forgiven her father a long time ago for breaking her heart. Yet, they still hadn’t rebuilt a relationship. And, deep down, she was okay with that.

  Him not being in her life had been his loss, not hers.

  And now he was dead.

  He’d died over six years ago in a plane crash flying out of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. He’d been there on business. The accident had been ruled foul play. But the authorities had not been able to identify who had been behind the deadly crash.

  Though they’d been estranged, the news had still had come as a shock to her. Nairobia had been on stage accepting another Adult Film award when her mother had tried to reach her. It wasn’t until several hours after the plane crash that she’d finally learned of his tragic death.

  She’d listened to her mother’s wracking sobs and had tried to console her best she could. But walls had been painfully built, and she’d felt nothing. And there’d been no tears shed.