When he undressed, a fresh surge of dampness oozed from my body as I stared at him. He had an absolutely beautiful body with broad shoulders, flat abs, narrow hips, and a surprisingly large cock with a thick, pink head. He slipped between my parted thighs, rubbed his dick against my pussy, against my clit, and then finally, slowly, he pushed the enormous head into my aching, hungry twat. It had been so long and I was so horny that I moaned, shuddered, and came when he bottomed out in me.
“Oh!! Oh, God! Jake! Jake! Please! Oh, more! More!”
The feel of his big dick moving inside me in slow, measured strokes was mind-numbing. As I lay on my back, I lifted my head and looked down our bodies. The sight of his pale, thick cock sinking balls deep into my dark pussy was enough to send me to the brink of another orgasm. I fell back against the bed, pushing my hips up to meet his downward thrusts, loving the feel of his hot meat cleaving through my wet twat.
“Please! Jake, please. I’m almost there again! Please!”
He suddenly cupped my bottom in his big hands, lifted my hips, and ground his down against mine. Then he thrust his hard length deep in me at the same time his hot devouring mouth found that sensitive spot below my left ear.
I moaned and shuddered and sobbed with delight and shattered into a million pieces as my body was flooded with delicious wave after wave of blistering pleasure. He stopped to soothe me before following me over the edge into pure paradise, pumping my unprotected pussy full of cum.
Afterward, he held me in his arms, kissing me gently, and cupping my breasts in his warm, caressing palms. I loved having my breasts held and my nipples tweaked. And I liked to be talked to after sex.
“Honey? Are you all right?”
I felt safe, loved, and happy. I rubbed my body against his and smiled when he shuddered in response. “I’m…fine.”
He pressed a tender kiss against my forehead. “Did I…please you, honey?”
“Yes. Oh, yes, Jake! Yes!”
He sighed and hugged me against him. I fell asleep feeling warm and content for the first time since Steve’s death.
He woke me in the night, wanting me again. “Honey?”
I felt him hard and throbbing against my leg and a jolt of desire shot through me. I turned willingly into his arms and moaned when he slid into me with a slow steady movement that left me gasping with wanting him.
“Oh, honey, you’re so sweet.” He rained soft, heated kisses on my breasts. His hot hands were everywhere: stroking my breasts, my thighs, cupping and massaging my rump, rubbing my clit.
My body burned everywhere he touched it. I found myself wanting him as much as I’d wanted Steve. “Jake…” I gasped. “Jake…oh, Jake!”
“Honey, you feel so good. You smell so good. I need this. I need you. Oh, honey. Honey.”
His whispered words of delight fueled my passion and hunger for him. I clung to him and we kept at each other until, exhausted and sexually sated, we fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, his slowly deflating dick still in my pussy.
In the morning, I couldn’t believe what I’d done. Steve was barely cold in his grave and there I was jumping in bed with his partner. His white partner.
“Honey…about last night…I don’t want you to think that I…I…” He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked at me with a helpless look in his eyes.
I stared at him, wondering why I’d never noticed how blue his eyes were or how handsome he was. I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. Having him call me honey reminded me of the night before, when he’d groaned the word in my ear as he’d repeatedly plunged into me like an out-of-control jackhammer. And I’d happily accepted and welcomed him in my arms and deep into my body.
“Last night was something we both needed,” I said as we shared coffee in the kitchen the next morning. “It was…therapeutic. We don’t need to apologize for it or analyze it to death. We needed it and it happened.”
He sighed, leaning against the counter. “Honey…”
I put down my coffee cup and went over to him. I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “It’s all right, Jake.” I drew back and looked at him, amazed I could look him in the eye. That last time we’d made love, I’d responded to him like an alley cat in heat, demanding that he fuck me. And he had, driving me into a frenzy until my whole world centered around his conquering cock.
“Just promise me that you won’t clean your gun like you were going to do last night.”
He sighed. “There didn’t seem to be much point to anything. Steve was dead and you’d tossed me out of your life.”
“And now?”
He licked his lips. My stomach muscles tightened as I recalled how pleasant his lips had felt sucking my breasts. Why had I never noticed how full and sensual his bottom lip was? Come to that, how had I never noticed how sexy he was or what a big cock he was packing?
“Honey…I don’t know how to say this.”
I shrugged. “Just say it.”
“Last night was very special for me. I’ve been…wanting you for a very long time.”
I stared at him. “What? You’ve wanted…but…you were Steve’s best friend! He trusted you with me!”
He flushed. “And I never stepped out of line with you. Never! I never let you see how I felt, but Steve knew.”
“I don’t believe you! If he’d known, he wouldn’t have let you anywhere near me!”
He shook his head. “He did know, but he also knew I would never act on those feelings. Not only because we were best friends, but because I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
I thought of all the times Jake had greeted me by locking me in a bear hug and felt betrayed. When I thought he was being friendly, he’d wanted to sleep with me. And now that Steve was dead, he thought I was going to be his woman? Just for a moment, I wondered if he’d allowed Steve to be shot so he could have me, but quickly dismissed the thought. No matter how he felt about me, he’d loved Steve.
“I can’t handle this, Jake. Last night is not going to happen again. If you need sex, you’d better—”
“I don’t need sex. I want you. I love you.”
I backed away from him. “Well, I don’t love you.” I remembered that gun in his hand the night before and rushed on. “I do love you, Jake. You know I do. Just not like that. But JR and I miss you and need you back in our lives. As my friend.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Just a friend, honey?”
I nodded. “We both needed last night, but I don’t need or want you as a lover, Jake.”
He sighed and sagged back against the counter. “Fine. I’ll be your…friend, Tasha.”
I nodded. “Come see JR soon.”
He came the following night. When JR rushed at him and burst into tears, I felt awful for having kept them apart for so long. Jake and I avoided looking at each other and only spoke to each other when necessary. But after three weeks, it became easier to be in the same room with Jake and behave as if we’d never spent a lustful night together. Until…
…I started having erotic dreams about him. I’d want him in the middle of the day. And when he came to see JR, I began visualizing him naked, aroused, and wanting me. It got so bad I could barely look at him without feeling a rush of dampness between my thighs.
He never alluded to our night together and he’d stopped calling me honey. And I missed that. After six weeks, I wanted him so badly, I didn’t care what people would say about my sleeping with Steve’s ex-partner who also happened to be white.
He’d said he loved me and I wasn’t so sure anymore that I didn’t love him in the same way. I was certainly consumed with desire for him and his big, thick cock.
One Friday night, I sent JR to spend the weekend with my parents. I chilled some wine and asked Jake to come over. The look in his eyes when I opened the door wearing nothing but a red teddy and matching heels made me ache for him.
“Oh, honey,” he whispered and drew me into his arms. There, in the doorway, we kissed with wild abandonment, u
ncaring of what the neighbors would say. Within moments, he was aroused and I was ready for him. He lifted me in his arms and carried me upstairs.
Holding me in his arms over my bed, he hesitated. I saw a look of concern in his eyes. “Here, honey? Are you sure?”
I didn’t know how I was going to feel in the morning about sleeping with Jake in the same bed I’d shared with Steve. I didn’t know what the future held for me and Jake; or even if we had a future together. I knew my parents wouldn’t be pleased. But I didn’t care. I just wanted him. I’d loved Steve with all my heart and soul. But he’d been dead for nearly six months. I was alive. I had needs and wants and they all centered around Jake and his cock. I meant to spend the entire night with him buried to the hilt in my pussy, while I shuddered under him like a shameless hussy.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He laid me gently on the bed and settled his big body between my trembling thighs. “Oh, honey, I need to be inside your sweet, sweet pussy.”
“Funny you should mention that,” I murmured, reaching down to part the lips of my twat for him. “Because I’ve been dreaming about that big, pussy-pleasing dick of yours. I need it inside me. Now, Jake! Now. Shove it in! Shove it in!”
Cupping my breasts in trembling hands, he kissed me and thrust into me with a maddening slowness that made my toes curl. I closed my eyes and shut the world out. Tonight there was just me and Jake in a world filled with luscious, illicit pleasure.
What If?
reese williams
You ever notice that most black colleges are either in the ghetto or somewhere out in the fuckin’ sticks? Well, my college was a mix of both. We were in the sticks surrounded by a poor-ass town. Remembering back to when I was a freshman, I would like to say that I wasn’t typical, but I was. I was wide-eyed, dick-hungry, and majoring in meeting my future husssben. That’s husband to all you proper tricks. It wasn’t even a guess where I was going when I graduated from my bama-ass high school. Shoot, I spent eighteen years of my life living less than a mile away from Wheatley College.
After dropping off my one suitcase at the freshman girls’ dorm, I met up with some of my homegirls and headed over to Assembly Hall for a meet-and-greet with the president of Wheatley, Dr. McGregor. The only fucking thing I remember about freshman orientation was when cue-ball-head McGregor said, “Look to the left of you and the right of you. One of you will not be here to see the grass turn green in spring semester.” Did I know he was talking about me? No, I was too busy cutting the fool with my girls.
On the way out of orientation, I noticed all these fine-ass brothers standing under a big tree right in front of Assembly Hall. You know my hot ass had to boom strut right over there to get a closer peek.
“Yo, fresh meat!”
This dope brotha stepped up. He was 6′5″ with skin the color of cinnamon, a jet-black corkscrew curly afro, and a real thin frame, which my girls said meant he had a long, lean dick.
I tried to play the role. “Ill, boy, is you talking to me?”
“Yeah, shorty. My name is Mare.”
I’m thinking they named him right with that pretty-ass hair. He was looking like the Pretty Pony doll I had when I was growing up.
“My brothers and I are choosing this year’s little sisters and I want you to be down.”
“Listen, I ain’t washing none of your drawers or typing no damn papers. I’m slick to y’all. I ain’t no dumb chick.”
“No, it ain’t even like that! The men of Beta aren’t like these other knucklehead fraternities on campus. We treat our young ladies just like they were our little sisters, nothing more. So, shorty, what’s your name?”
“Tiffany.”
“Oh, Tiffany, is it? That’s a pretty name. You got any brothers at home?”
“No, but I got cousins.”
“Tiff, it’s just like that! I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that they wouldn’t ask you to do.”
I thought about it and the worst thing my cousin Roscoe had asked me to do was eat a mud pie.
“Tiff Money, you gotta let me know what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours. You think you might be interested? If so, I need to know, now!”
I peaked at them eager beavers salivating over my beaver under the Beta tree. I guess Mare peeped what I was thinking.
“Naw, Tiff, you would just be my little sis. Ignore them nuts!” Mare placed his hand on my cheek, forcing our eyes to meet. He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper. “Listen, meet me at Miller Hall at nine on the dot, if you want to be down.”
He pulled out a dope leather Beta organizer from his Phat Farm messenger bag, ripped out a clean sheet of paper, and wrote down his room number.
“Tiff, the frat is known for community service. It’ll look great on your transcripts. Plus, everybody knows, Beta only selects dimes to be their little sisters.”
I snatched the paper. “Whatever. I might be able to help you out.”
Mare winked at me and walked back under the Beta tree. His fraternity brothers surrounded him, giving him dap and yelling, “Player! Player!”
I tried to be calm and maintain as my girls begged me for information about Mare. Shit, I had to go sit on the steps of Assembly Hall so that my knees would stop shaking so much. Even though I was a freshman, I knew Beta ran Wheatley’s yard. Even old head McGregor was a Beta. I heard his seventy-year-old ass would be still trying to step if he hadn’t thrown his back out last homecoming. I opened the paper and under Mare’s room number, he’d scribbled, “Come alone!”
You know where my fast ass was at the appointed hour, knocking on Mare’s door. I had to step over all these miscellaneous dudes looking punked out in the hallway, marking a trail to his room. Mare opened the door so damn fast, I almost fell into his room. He yelled at the guys in the hall, “Yo, keep it down! Beta business going on!” Since most of them tricks wanted to pledge Beta, they shut the fuck up quick.
His room was laced with black-and-silver paraphernalia from floor to ceiling. Mare was blasting jazz out of these big-ass speakers and his room smelled like African queen incense.
“Whoa, who is this?” There was some chickenhead chilling on Mare’s bed. Yeah, I recognized that stuck-up bitch. Her name was Lauren. “Mare, I ain’t down with the threesome!”
“Tiffany, it’s not even like that. But you should know that it’s between you and Chi-town here for the lil’ sis position. I just want to ask you both a few questions.”
Damn, a test? I hadn’t been spending no time with the books! Not one to be clowned, I stared Lauren up and down, with her fly-ass Coach backpack and name-brand gear, took one step forward, and said, “What’s the first question?”
Mare gave me this Chiclets smile, looking like he was gonna pat me on the head like a puppy. “That’s the attitude Beta needs!” He glared at Lauren. “Chi-town, would you do anything for Beta?”
Stuck-up stammered, “Li…li…like, what?”
“Like what? What kind of fucking answer is that, Lauren?” Mare was heated. “I’ll tell you what kind, a wrong fucking answer!”
I saw the opening and went for it. “I’ll be down for Beta.”
Mare looked down at his dick. “Well, Tiff Money, then get down.”
I walked over to Mare and unbuttoned his camouflage pants, pulling them down real slow as I did a deep-knee bend. Mare had on these tight black cotton CK briefs and was about the hairiest motherfucker I had ever seen. I guess he felt me pause ’cause he got this real pissed-off look on his face. It kind of reminded me of the last time I babysat for my two-year-old cousin and he threw my favorite shoes in the toilet to see if they could float.
“I guess you ain’t the one, Tiff.”
Mare started to bend down and pull up his pants, when our eyes met. “Don’t rush me!” I rolled my eyes while sticking my fingers down the sides of his briefs, pulling them down around his ankles. I looked up and was introduced to disappointment a.k.a. his dick. It was no longer than my hand! I wasn’t even going to dignif
y it and try to hold it with two. A fucking one-hander! I looked up at him and he looked damned pleased with himself. I chuckled. “Beta for life, right?” I took the whole dick and nuts into my wet mouth.
Well, little Miss Chi-town went screaming out of the room. I figured since I was down there with the door wide open to the hallway, I would finish the job. The pledges, who now had full view of Tiffany’s World Famous House of Blow, were hollering while Mare was trying to knock my top teeth out with his Peter Rabbit buck and hop moves. Mare was moaning, “Oh, sis…yeah, sis…make it good for Beta. Make it good for America.”
America? I’m just as patriotic as any other sister, but “make it good for America?” That’s when I looked up at the fraternity paddle on his wall (I was that bored) and saw his line name was, get this, Mr. America! What a joke! I stroked the tiny space between his nut sack and asshole with my pinky and Mare came with the quickness, damn near pulling out my hair the entire time. Mare pulled up his pants, while I did a quick tooth count to see if I was missing any of my fronts. I then found out the source of Mare’s line name, when he started talking just like a Miss America contestant—for a long time, about himself, and boring the hell out of me!
“My real name is Phillip and my father and his father are Beta men.”
Phillip closed the door and the pledges in the hall groaned, fearing they would miss something. Phillip, alias Mare, pulled his tight “Bleed Beta” T-shirt off, exposing a sandy-colored Beta brand on his left arm.
“The reason why I copped this phat single is ’cause I’m president of the chapter.”
He stripped off the rest of his clothes, put on his shower shoes, and threw a towel around his waist. Before he left the room, he looked back and said, “Tiffany, you are so lucky to be with me.”
Ouch, Mare hurt me with that comment! But being down with big head (and you know which head I am talking about) did increase my popularity on campus. In return, I fucked Mare every day, every way, for the rest of the fall semester. Pledges carried my books to class, I went to all the Beta parties, and I was even crowned Miss Freshman.
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