by Cairo
He laughs. “Don’t have me send the S.W.A.T team out on you.”
I chuckle. “You know I wouldn’t let anything keep me from being there. It’s the only time we all get a chance to spend time together.”
“Good. Now, let me get back to work. I love you.”
“I love you too. Give the kids big hugs for me.”
“I will. And make sure you call Mom and Dad, too. They miss you.”
“I will,” I say before hanging up. I lie down for a quick nap before I begin my preparations for Nelson’s arrival.
An hour later, I awake, feeling refreshed and ready to get this party started. I take my bath. Then when I’m done, I use scented oil to moisturize my body. I slip into a black-laced teddy. I light the candles and incense that are situated around the bedroom. The music is playing. The stage is set. Now all I need is Nelson’s thick tongue lapping my asshole and the back of my pussy, before he slides his dick into me.
I know leaving my front door unlocked and inviting an unknown man into my home is extremely risky—hell, it’s downright dangerous. The thought of being beaten and raped, robbed or—worse, crosses my mind for a fleeting moment. Yet it has not made any lasting impression on my decision. I enjoy living on the edge. Sometimes fucking in places that I might get caught makes my pussy hot. Like the time I fucked this dude in a park. It was like eleven at night, and I was out on dick patrol when I pulled up alongside his black Volvo. I blew my horn, and immediately knew the minute he rolled his window down that I had found my prey for the night. I gave him a seductive smile, then asked him if he would mind pulling over. He was more than willing to. We talked for about fifteen minutes, exchanging basic information. Finally, I got right down to business and told him what I wanted. I pulled two condoms out of my designer jacket for effect.
At first, he was shocked. Then he declined. But the way I was talking, real freaky and nasty, had turned him on. So he changed his mind, which is what most of ’em do. Twenty minutes later, he was following behind me with a brick hard dick to a nearby park. We stripped down, got butt naked, I pulled my ruler out of my bag, measured his dick, smiled, then rolled the condom on, and mounted his eight-and-a-half inch thickness. I rode his ass bronco style on a blanket under the stars. The thought of being caught had my pussy juice oozing out, dripping down his dick, wetting up his hairy balls. When we finished, he went his way, and I went mine. And yes, I had an ass full of mosquito bites.
Another time, while on a seven day Southern Caribbean cruise, I fucked this dude I had met a few days prior outside on the Lido Deck of the ship. It was like two in the morning. I leaned over the railing, hiked up my skirt, directed him to slide his dick inside of me, then used my pussy muscles to milk his dick until he filled the condom with his man juice. And the whole time I knew there was a white man sitting on a bench a few feet away watching us. Oooh, just knowing the old pervert was there made me want to scream out at the top of my lungs in ecstasy.
Basically, the thrill of the unknown turns me on. I know danger is always lurking in corners, waiting to strike, particularly since there are so many psychos out here in the world. But the excitement of it all is far greater for me than worrying about what may or may not be lying in wait. So I fuck, and I fuck, and I fuck.
But as I wait, and think, and consider, I decide that tonight isn’t the time to trust a complete stranger with walking up into my home without being properly supervised. So I will greet my guest at the door, lock it behind him, then escort him upstairs. Then when he’s done, I will walk him downstairs, and escort his ass out the door, locking it behind him. The only person I can honestly say I’d trust to walk in and serve me the dick the way I initially requested is Garrett. Don’t ask why. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s a State Trooper, or because I have some strange connection to him that makes me feel safe with him.
Whatever it is—no matter how much I enjoy taking risks, I’m not chancing having this man I only met once come up in here with some of his boys and doing me in. And yes, getting killed…now that has crossed my mind on more than one occasion.
Granted, if I invite a man into my home, it is usually with the sole intent to get at his dick. The only thing I’m interested in at that moment is how well he can work this pussy over. So if he’s in my home, he’s going to get fucked. And that’s the bottom line. But, I know there are some psychos out there, and you can never be too careful. Oh, trust me. I know every time I let a man into my home, I am increasing my chances of being put in harm’s way. What can I say? I enjoy gambling and riding a stiff dick at the same time. And knowing me, I will continue dancing along the edges of fate. Yes, I am aware that playing Russian roulette with my life, and men, is a very dangerous game. Well, so is driving or walking through certain towns or cities. At least I control what risks I take. So I’ll keep rolling the dick, I mean, dice, and take my chances.
But not tonight. So I am sitting downstairs on my sofa with my right leg draped over its arm, rubbing my clit and playing in my pussy, imagining him coming in and finding me upstairs blindfolded with my ass up in the air waiting for him to stab my hole from the back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Iam so deep into pleasing myself that I don’t hear him pull up in my driveway. I am snapped out of my sex-induced trance by the sound of someone trying to open my door. I glance at the Lenox crystal clock on the end table, and smile. It’s exactly nine-thirty.
Because I have changed plans on him, he’s smart enough to know to ring the doorbell. I get up from the sofa and open the door, quickly placing my index finger up to my lips, then to his, indicating for him to not say a word. He grins, playing along while walking in. I shut the door and lock it, then hand him his mask. It’s a simple black mask, and makes him look like a chocolate Zorro when he places it on his face. I stand and watch him strip off his clothes. Mmmm, oh my goodness! Between his legs is the blackest, prettiest dick I’ve ever seen. It’s thick, shiny and almost the color of tar. My mouth waters and I can already feel the dew from my ripe and ready pussy dripping.
I am almost shaking with anticipation. Between you and me, there’s nothing like being on your knees with your head down on a pillow, ass up, cheeks spread open, waiting in anticipation. Pussy lips slick with excitement as you feel the warmth of his breath approaching. His tongue glides across your pussy, from the bottom to the top, then darts in and out while rubbing your clit. Mmm. His tongue is hypnotic. Each lap, each stab of his tongue, gets you wetter and hotter than the stroke before. You twist, and thrust your body to meet his lips. Your moans deepen. You feel yourself getting lost in pleasure. And you beg. And beg. And beg…until he feeds your eager, overheated snatch with deep, fast strokes. Mmmm.
I grab Nelson by his fat cock, slowly stroke it, then lead him up the stairs, pulling him by it. I am surprised, and relieved, that he follows instructions, keeps his mouth shut and says nothing.
Once upstairs, I walk over to the bed, climb up in the center of it, then tie a black silk scarf over my eyes. I snap my ass up and outward, arching my back. This is his cue. He already knows my pussy is wet, and what I expect. I wait for him as he rolls his condom over his deep, dark chocolate log. I silently pray he knows how to use it.
I pull open my ass, give him a peek at my glistening lips, and wet hole that awaits him. “Fuck me,” I whisper. “Feed my hungry pussy.”
“Oh, shit,” he says, forgetting the rules. “You a real live freak.” I want to put him out for fucking up my fantasy, but my pussy is eager to devour his cock. I clench my teeth. “You’re not supposed to open your mouth, just beat this pussy up.”
“Sorry,” he says, grabbing me by the hips. “But, goddamn…you’re something else.”
Before I can open my mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up, the head of his dick is knocking at the opening of my hole, preparing for entry. I brace myself as he pushes in. I moan. He pushes more in, then pulls it out to the tip, then back in again. I moan again. He does this three more times, teases my pussy an
d gets it begging for the dick, then plunges every last inch in and serves me the way I want it: fast, deep and furious.
“Uh…oh, yes…fuck this pussy…”
He grunts. “Ah, shit, you throwing that ass up on this dick.”
“No talking,” I snap over my shoulder. “Only fucking.”
“Sorry,” he apologizes, slamming in and out of me. “Oh, shit… you got some good pussy. And you keep grabbing this dick with it. Fuck…uh…Damn…”
I suck my teeth, realizing that perhaps expecting him to keep quiet the whole time might have been asking a bit much since my love snatch has been known to bring a man to his knees. “Slap my ass,” I demand, winding and pumping my hips. “Instead of all this talking, you should be using your energy to put that dick to me. Is that all you got? I thought you could fuck,” I taunt, squeezing his dick with my muscles. He grunts. His sweat drips onto my back. “I can hear you, but my pussy can’t feel you. Where’s the dick at?” He picks up speed. His hips crash into my ass, causing me to jerk forward. Yeah, he’s banging up against my walls, filling me with deep, urgent thrusts. My sweet cat cries out in unadulterated pleasure. “Yeah, there you go…yeah, uh…mmmph…like that…beat that pussy up.”
With his dick still in me, and him fucking me doggie-style, I lift up on my knees, then get into the leap frog position, squatting like a frog. Without saying anything, Nelson places his hands up under my thighs for support, and continues slamming his dick in and out of me. I’m bouncing up and down on his dick, matching his thrusts.
“Fuck this pussy…Yeah, uh…let me wet that black dick up. You want me to come all over that dick?”
“Aaah, shit, yeah…oh, fuck…I’m getting ready to bust this nut.”
“Yeah, nigga, bust that nut up in this pussy. Give me that hot cream, nigga.”
“Aaah…aaah…uh…uh…here it comes…oh, shit…”
His body starts shaking as if he’d going into convulsions. I can feel his already fat dick swelling and twitching inside of me as I clamp down and around it to milk his nut out. I am cumming. He is cumming. We are both panting and grunting. And sweaty. And out of breath.
After Nelson nuts, his dick stays hard and he continues stroking my pussy until I am having another wave of orgasms. I moan. And grind my ass up on his groin. Ten minutes later, he is nutting again. And I am impressed. He continues a slow grind inside of me for several more minutes, then pulls his dick out and removes the condom, tossing it on the bed beside me as he had been instructed on the phone. I feel its wetness against my arm and smile, removing my blindfold. I get up off the bed.
“Thanks for the dick,” I say, glancing down at his shiny pole, slick from his juices. The cum-gulping, fuck-suck freak in me wants to drop down low and slurp up his cock cream, but I don’t.
“You got a towel, or something I can wipe myself with?” he asks, holding his dick up. His balls hang like two perfectly round chocolate eggs, and my mouth waters for a taste. Before I know it, I am up on him, then down on my knees with his sticky balls in my mouth, sucking them clean. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “Damn you a freak…” I grab his dick from out of his hand and stroke it while ball-gargling him. After a few more minutes of sucking his balls, I get up and walk into the bathroom to bring him a wet rag. “Damn, girl, you ’bout to make a nigga keep coming back.”
I smile. “That’s if I keep inviting you back,” I state. “You can’t seem to follow instructions so I don’t know if you deserve a second round of this grade-A pussy.”
He laughs, wiping his dick. “Oh, word. You funny as hell. How you expect me to be up in that pussy and its feeling good and not say shit? That’s crazy.”
“Well, if you want there to be a next time, then I suggest you try a little harder,” I say, taking the rag from him and tossing it into the sink. I glance at the digital clock. It’s already going on eleven o’clock. “Well, I’ve enjoyed your company, but it’s time to go, big daddy.
“I can dig it,” he states, following me down the stairs. I hand him his clothes. “Damn, you don’t waste no time putting a nigga out, huh?”
Let me make something perfectly clear before I put Nelson out. If I’m on the phone talking all dirty ’n shit to a man about how I want to get at his dick, and then I invite him over, trust me, it ain’t for coffee and conversation. So, if he’s sitting down, it better be to remove his damn shoes and socks. And if he is trying to hold a conversation, it better be about how good he’s going to ram his dick in me, and fuck the life out of me. Or else, within ten minutes of entering my home, I expect to hear his belt un-clicking, his zipper unzipping, and his pants dropping around his damn ankles. And if he doesn’t wear underwear, cool. But if he does, then I’m expecting to see his dick hanging out of the slit of his boxers and him stroking it with his hand. Otherwise, I’m looking at the clock, and showing his ass to the door. See ya!
Hell, if he’s looking for a chat ’n chew somewhere, then he should take his ass down to the nearest Borders Café. And that’s the same way I feel about a man who wants to sit around to get better acquainted after I’ve finished waxing his dick. No-strings sex means exactly what it is, sex without any damn attachments. So, don’t expect nothing, don’t look for nothing—’cause you ain’t getting nothing.
Oh, and another thing when it comes to no-strings sex, there really is no need for extended phone calls or endless emails unless we’re talking about fucking. I’m not interested in a bunch of idle conversation, or heavy breathing in my ear unless we’re having phone sex. Other than that, don’t call me to talk. Trust me. We have nothing to talk about. Period! So, no boo, you can’t get to know me outside of the bedroom. But what you can know is if I fuck you again, riding your cock will always be on my terms. So, again, we have absolutely nothing—and I do mean nothing—to discuss.
I tilt my head. Then it dawns on me that he hasn’t been given the memo, so I decide to enlighten him. “I didn’t invite you here for a social call. This was strictly about the dick—nothing more, nothing less. Everything that needed to be said has been said in the bedroom. So, there’s nothing else we need to talk about.”
“Damn, that’s cold. But I gotta respect it. So, can a nigga at least get a number to get at you so we can at least stay in touch?”
“Nope,” I say, smiling. “If and when I wanna ride that dick again, I’ll call you. And if you can follow instructions, then—and only then—will you get the digits. Until then, you enjoy the rest of your night.” I open the door and wait for him to leave.
He laughs. “You a real raw chick, but I dig your style.”
“You got a chick?” I ask, taking in the veins that run along his magnificent biceps.
“Nah, baby,” he says, stepping into his crisp white Air Force Ones. “I’m riding solo at the moment.”
“Then that’s even better,” I state, walking over to him all slow ’n sexy-like. I pull him into me, then grab him by the back of the neck and place my lips flush to his ear. “I can slow fuck you all night, and not have to worry about sending you home too drained to fuck wifey.” I lick his earlobe, pressing my still wet pussy up against his thigh. “Squeeze my ass.” His hands slide down my back, rest on my ass, then squeeze a chunk of my ass.
“Yo, you getting my dick hard again; you know that, right?”
I pull away from him. “Have a good night,” I say.
“So,” he says, licking his lips, “what happens if I happen to be in the neighborhood and stop by?”
“You don’t get in unless I invite you, so I wouldn’t waste time and gas making the trip if I were you.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Your way or the highway, is that right?”
“Absolutely.”
“You have a good night, beautiful,” he says, finally walking out the door. I stand in the doorway and watch him get into his silver Grand Cherokee Jeep. Once he backs out the driveway, I close the door and lock it.
I saunter into the kitchen, famished. I heat up some leftover chicken lo
mein, then sit at the table, wondering how many men and women actually know the difference between sensuality and sexuality. How many people do you think confuse the two? Does knowing the difference make them better lovers? Does not knowing make them terrible lovers? I ask these questions in my head as I eat.
Hmmm…I wonder. I know I appreciate and understand my own sexuality. I have learned to satisfy it without fear or guilt. And, tonight, I have finished indulging my carnal desires, and I will go to bed with my pussy well-fucked inside out. A smile forms across my face as I reflect on my night with Nelson, and all the others before him—and all the ones that will be after him.
The thought of placing an imaginary ad for sex takes up space in my head. It reads:
This is for all of the unknown men I’m going to eventually fuck: How big is your dick, daddy? Is it cut and thick? Do you have big balls? Mmmm…I love being on my knees sucking thick, black dick and big hairy balls filled with sweet, thick cream. So tell me. Are you up for a pair of soft, full lips wrapped around your dick and a warm tongue lapping at your balls? Are you ready for a hot, juicy pussy locked around your cock? If the answer is YES, then you might want to come see me this morning. I’m sucking and fucking ’til noon. Signed, sealed & ready for delivery!
Fuckfully yours,
The Man Handler!
The idea alone has me laughing out loud, hysterically. I shut off all the lights, and make my way upstairs with thoughts of all the endless possibilities of living, loving and learning all there is about life—exploring my sexual desires and expanding my freaky pleasures.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Again, I awake sweating, panting and wetter than the Nile. I’ve had another dream. And this time, the strangest thing happens. A man old enough to be my father comes to me, pulls me into his embrace, kisses my lips, then slides his tongue into my mouth. He strokes my titties gently, kneading and kissing and licking and pulling on them as if he is trying to milk each one. Instantly, my pussy quivers and juices. His hand slides up my silk nightgown, and he lightly brushes his fingers along the slit of my wet pussy. He slips one, then two, of his big fingers inside of me. Finger-fucks me until my pussy bubbles and boils over. Oh my GAWD! I need him, want him. I reach for his crotch. Grab and stroke him. Feel his cock swell and lengthen between the fabric of his pants and underwear. He grabs and palms my ass, gently pulling open my cheeks. Mmmm.