by Cairo
Ding. I have one email. I open it:
Hello. You sound like my kind of woman. MBM, 5’10”, 175 lbs; well-endowed. Home alone and need my dick sucked exactly like what you describe in your post. My wife’s away, can host.
Hmmph. When a man says he’s “well-endowed” that shit tells me nothing about the type of cock he really has. So if he wants me to wet his dick, he is going to have to be a bit more descriptive, along with sending me a pic. Interestingly with this email, I know I shouldn’t be too keen on going over to his home to suck him off. However, the thought of his wife walking in on us and trying to attack me, or him, fascinates and excites me. The idea of sucking a man’s dick in his home while his wife’s away and the thrill of getting caught entices me to disrespect her space. I type:
Hey there. Thanks for the response. How old are you? Is your dick thick and cut? I’m not in the mood for any little dick tonight, so please, let’s not waste time. Send a pic of the goods. Thanks!
I have two more emails. I smile, opening up the first one. Hey, nice post! 31, 6’2”, 205 lbs, nice build, blk man. Looking to get this thick seven-and-a-half sucked tonight. Do have wifey so must be discreet.
I reply: Baby, discreet is my middle name. Is your dick cut? I open the next email:
Black male, 39, available all day and night, would love for you suck this dick. I’m also looking to fuck a tight, wet pussy. I live alone and can host. Please be able to take a good, long 20 to 30 minute dicking. I like to get nasty and fuck hard.
Well, good for you. But you won’t be fucking me. I shake my head. This fucker done banged his head thinking twenty minutes is a good, long “dicking.” Hell, I’m just warming up around that time. Give me a break! That’s a tease for me. I can already tell that the minute I clamped my mouth around his cock, and started gulping him down, this fool would nut in less than fifteen minutes. Baby, please! The last thing I’m interested in is a repeat of last night’s quick-draw cum action. I delete his email. One, for not following instructions to provide his full stats; and, two, for being stupid enough to think a twenty- to thirty-minute dicking is something spectacular.
Mr. Seven-And-A-Half sends me another email: Yeah, I’m cut. Do you swallow?
I purse my lips, typing: Good! And to answer your? Not tonight, daddy! It’s a suck and spit session.
Yes, I will shamefully admit that I do love to swallow a hot nut, or two, from time to time. Or have it splatter on my face. However, swallowing or letting someone bust in my mouth isn’t something I do all the time, or with everyone. But on occasion I will suck the snot out of a dick, then either swallow or spit it out. Most times I let them nut on my face, then smear it all over my lips, or I take off my shirt and let them shoot their cream all over my beautiful tits. It all depends on my mood at that very moment. The hornier I am—the nastier he talks, the more likely I’m going to get freakier with it. Nevertheless, I set the stage. I set the rules. And I decide whether or not to suck a dick raw or to wrap it up. Rubberized—dry, flavored, or otherwise—fellatio is always on my terms.
And on those days I’m using condoms, I typically use an ultra thin condom, like the TROJAN 2GO condom—I like these particularly because they come in a pocket-sized card instead of a regular wrapper—or the TROJAN THINTENSITY condom. I also like using the Durex Rainbow colored condoms from time to time. And when it comes to using flavored condoms, my favorites are the banana- and strawberry-flavored ones by Trustex. I don’t particularly care for the grape, chocolate, cola or vanilla ones. But I do like the idea that they’re all colored according to flavor. And the best part is—they’re sugar-free! So I don’t have to feel guilty sucking down extra pounds.
Then there are times when I want to give a man a tingly feeling while I’m sucking his dick without the actual, flavored taste in my mouth. That’s when I use a MAXPRO mint condom. It’s a condom that has a mint lubricant that gives a man a tingly sensation. And what I like most about these condoms is that they come in a sleek, metal case. I use my mouth to roll this bad boy down on a dick, then suck away, giving him a sensationally mind-blowing orgasm. Mmmph!
I receive another email from Mr. Well Endowed. I’m 8 inches, uncut.
Oh, okay. Thanks, but no thanks. Only sucking cut dick. I delete his email, getting up from my computer. It’s already going on ten o’clock and I was hoping to have something lined up by eleven so that I can dip out, drop down low, then be back home and in my bed by midnight. But judging by the way things are looking, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be the case.
I head downstairs to the kitchen to get a bottle of Dasani water. For some reason I’m feeling dehydrated. I take a few gulps, then set the bottle down on the counter as my iPhone rings. I glance at the screen, rolling my eyes. It’s Jasper’s cousin, Stax—well, Monty. Stax is his nickname ’cause he’s six-feet-six and chiseled down. And word has it he’s walking with a third leg and a set of balls the size of two juicy plums. Every chick down at the shop has been drooling over him for years, except for me. Personally, as fine as he is, I’ve never looked at him sexually. He’s cool as hell, but the way he leers at me whenever he comes around tells me he’s definitely been looking at me that way. Not that he’s ever said anything out of pocket ’cause he’s always been gentlemanly and respectful around me. It’s just a vibe he gives off. So to avoid any potential situation that could become awkward, I try to keep my distance from him. Besides, Jasper would break his fucking jaw if he ever found out he was checking for me, cousin or not.
“Hey, Stax,” I answer, sitting at the kitchen table.
“What’s good wit’ you, ma?”
“Nothing much; chilling. How’ve you been?”
“I’m chillin’, baby girl. You know how I do.”
“I heard that. So, what’s up?”
“You goin’ down to see Jasp this weekend?”
“Yeah, on Sunday. Why?”
“That’s wassup. I was hopin’ to hop a ride wit’ you. My whip is in the shop ’til Monday, but I wanna get down there to see my fam, feel me? It’s been a minute since I’ve seen ’im, so I wanna go down and holla at the kid. I spoke to ’im earlier today and told him I was gonna holla at you to see if it was aiight. He said it wouldn’t be a problem, but you know I wanted to make sure wit’ you, first, feel me? I got you on all the gas and tolls.”
I take a long swig of water, then swallow hard. Now why the fuck can’t he ride down with one of his boys, or his brother, instead of trying to ride with me? The last thing I want to do is be on a two-and-a-half-hour road trip with Stax. My God, that’s five hours up and back. I mean, damn…what the hell are we supposed to talk about all that time cooped up in a car together? When I take that long ass ride down to Bridgeton in Cumberland County to see Jasper, I like to take it alone. I hook up my iPod, play my beats, and ride that stretch of road like there’s no tomorrow. And if I feel like stopping into AC on my way back to do a little gambling, meeting up with some dick that I’ve set up the night before, or do nothing at all except bring my black ass home—I can. It’s only a damn ride, Pasha; get over yourself. You’re bugging about nothing.
“That’s fine,” I finally say, reluctantly.
“That’s wassup. Which visit you goin’ to?”
Now he should know there’s no way I’d ever go on the first visit. Registration is from eight to ten in the morning which means I’d have to be up and out of the house by six. Not hardly. This diva needs as much sleep as possible. “The second one,” I tell him, getting up from the table, tossing my empty bottle of water into the trash, then turning out the light. I check to make sure the front door is locked, already knowing it is, before setting the alarm, then heading back upstairs to check for any new emails. “Since registration starts at twelve, I’d like to be on the road no later than nine-thirty.”
“Oh, aiight. That’s cool.”
I sit in front of my computer. I have six new emails. “Okay, I’ll be at your place around nine-fifteen.”
“A
iight, see you then.”
“Good night,” I say before disconnecting the call, then eagerly clicking open the first email. It’s from Mr. Seven-And-A-Half. That’s cool. I still want you to come wrap your soft lips around this dick. And show me how good you can suck it. U still down? There’s an attachment. I smile, opening it. My mouth instantly waters. It’s dark brown and shaped like a miniature baseball bat. Of course, I won’t respond one way or the other until I open up all the other emails.
36, 5’6”, 155 lbs, brown hair/eyes, light-skinned. 5.5 inches cut. Wrong answer! I delete, clicking open the next email. You sound like a sexy chick. I’m 24, 6’2”, athletic build, black, thick, cut 7.5 dick looking to chill with a cool-ass chick and be sucked. Hit me back. I decide to save this one for those nights I’m in the mood for some young cock, then go to the third email. 6’2, 240 lbs, mod. Hairy, 5” cut. Would love a deep, wet BJ from you.
C’mon now… five inches? Umm, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Pick my teeth with it? I let out a disgusted sigh, clicking DELETE. I open the next email. 29, 165 lbs, 5’11” and horny with a full ten days’ worth of cum. I want to unload in a hot, hungry mouth. I delete, deciding to quit while I’m ahead and reply back to Mr. Seven-And-A-Half.
I type back: Beautiful cock, baby. Do u nut fast? He must have been sitting at the computer, waiting, ’cause I’m surprised when he hits me right back. Depends. I haven’t bust in four days so I’m sure if you are as good as you say you are, I probably will. But I get hard again real quick and can last much longer the next round.
Isn’t that something, I think, grinning, a man anticipating a second round. I like him already. We go back and forth for about three more emails before deciding to meet at twelve-thirty at the parking garage in downtown Elizabeth on the third level. He has a tinted SUV so I’m going to climb up in his truck, then suck him down.
It’s already going on eleven-thirty. I hop in the shower to do a quick rinse, then brush my teeth and tongue, followed by a Listerine swish and gargle before putting on a pair of Baby Phat jeans and an orange hooded pullover. I try to be as inconspicuous as possible, careful not to wear anything too flashy or over the top. I pull my orange fitted down over my eyes, grab my keys, then head down the stairs and out the door.
“Damn, ma, you fine as hell,” Mr. Seven-And-A-Half says when I open the door of his burgundy Lexus GX470 and climb in.
I smile, licking my bottom lip. “And you’re not so bad looking yourself,” I tell him, downplaying his looks. But the nigga is extra F-I-N-E. He’s the color of milk chocolate and has the nerve to have hazel eyes. “Let me feel that dick,” I say, reaching over and grabbing at his sweats. I rub his crotch, and feel his dick stiffen. He leans his seat all the way back, putting his right arm up over the back of the passenger headrest. “I’m gonna suck this real good for you.”
“Oh yeah,” he says in a low, husky voice. “Show me.”
I tell him to lift up his shirt. He does, revealing a wave of tight, rippled abs with a patch of hair around his navel. I lick his stomach, groping his growing hard-on before sticking my hand down in the waistband of his sweats, then fishing out his dick. He doesn’t have on any underwear, and I’m impressed with what I feel. It’s hot and heavy and thicker than it looked in his picture.
“I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” I say, running my tongue up and down the backside of it, cupping his heavy balls, then slowly swirling my tongue around the head and over the slit.
He lets out a low moan.
I lap it nice and slow. Suck it lovingly; kiss it soothingly before opening my mouth, unlatching my jaws, and taking him all the way into my hot, hungry mouth. The head of his dick hits the back of my throat. I swallow. Let him block my airway and feel the snugness of my throat while licking his balls. My eyes water but there’s no gagging going on. I bob my head up and down as he thrusts his hips upward. Spit dribbles down around his balls. I pull his dick from out of my throat, then start sucking and jerking him off simultaneously.
He moans again, starts shifting in his seat. “Aaah, shiiit…uh…damn, ma…ohhh, fuck…Gotdamn, baby…you know howta suck some dick…. Uh…fuck…you ’bout to make me nut…”
I pick up speed, sucking and slurping and making popping sounds with my mouth. Loving the way his rock-hard cock feels in my hands, in my mouth, down in my throat. I suck him as if my life depends on it for survival. Lick him as if he’s a dripping ice cream cone. Pop him as if he’s the sweet sticky treat inside of a Charms lollipop. I alternate from throating him to sucking him to jerking and sucking him to licking him to throating him all over again until he hums and moans and chants and grabs the back of my head, palming it like a basketball, bouncing it up and down on his shaft.
“…I’m…uh…gettin’…oh, shiiiiit…ready…mmm, fuck…to…yeah, baby…uhhhh…”
I pull up off his dick and rapidly start jerking him off, twirling my hand over the head of his spit-covered cock. “Let me see you bust this fat dick…you liked that deep throat?”
“Aaaah, shit…oh…fuck yeah…” I start sucking on his balls, wetting them up, pulling them into my mouth one at a time, until I have them both in my mouth. A few minutes later, Mr. Seven-And-A-Half’s left leg starts to shake. He lets out a loud grunt and then shoots his nut up at the roof of the truck. “Whew, gotdaaaaaaaaamn, ma, that was the best fuckin’ head I’ve had, word up. You got that shit on lock, baby.”
I smile as I pull out two mango-scented Pleasure Wipes from my bag, handing him one, then using the other to wipe my mouth. “Glad you enjoyed it,” I say, opening the door.
He catches his breath, looks at me glassy eyed. “Enjoyed it?” he repeats, sluggishly. I stifle a snicker. Yeah, I practically sucked the life out of him. “Nah, I loved that shit, ma. If my girl sucked my dick the way you just did, I’d never leave the fuckin’ house.”
“Well, I’m sure she can try to match my skills. But know this, there’s only one Deep Throat Diva, baby. And I’m it.”
He grins, fixing himself. “That you are,” he says, eyeing me. “Baby, you’re a champion dick sucker and sexy as fuck. You can definitely make a cat fall for a fine-ass beauty like you.”
“Although I couldn’t blame him,” I say, grinning, “I would strongly advise against it.”
“Yeah, I feel you. You got a man?”
I laugh. “All you need to know is: I have a long throat.”
“Yo, you got a number I can hit you up on?”
“Have a good night, Mister Seven-And-A-Half.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You, too, ma. I’ma holla.”
I close the door, walking off toward my car with the taste of his cock on my breath, smiling. I wait for him to pull off, then back out of my space, screeching off. I need to hurry and get home to play in my sopping wet pussy.
FOUR
“Good morning. Nappy No More. Pasha speaking.” I glance at the wall clock. It’s 8:36 a.m. I wait for the recording to finish, then press ONE.
“Hey, baby,” Jasper says. “How you?”
“Hey. I’m good, and you?”
“Chillin’, chillin’. Happy to hear my baby’s voice.”
I smile. He sounds like he’s in a good mood—for the moment, that is. No telling how long it will last, though. “It’s always good to hear yours, too.”
“It better be,” he teases, “wit’ ya, apple head. Or you know there’s gonna be repercussions like a muhfucka, right?”
I laugh. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I see someone’s been reading the dictionary this morning. What, that’s your new word for the day—repercussions?””
“Oh, you got jokes? You think there won’t be?”
I decide to appease him. ’Cause bottom line, I know there will be. “Baby, I know it’s gonna be whatever you say.”
“And don’t forget it, either. So what you’d do last night?”
“Oh, nothing much; I laid around with a wet pussy waiting for you to call; that’s all.”
“D
amn, baby. Sorry ’bout that. I got caught up talkin’ to Stax last night. Did he hit you up?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“Cool. So he’s ridin’ down with you on Sunday?”
Without thinking, I suck my teeth. “Yeah,” I say, flatly.
“Why you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you ain’t really beat.”
“I’m not. I mean. Stax is cool and all, but I don’t feel like being in a car with him for two hours. That’s a bit much. I don’t know why he can’t rent a car, or get a ride down there on Saturday with one of your boys. Hell, he should wait until his car gets fixed.”
“Yo, hol’ up. You actin’ like you got some kinda beef wit’ the nigga.”
“I don’t have beef with him.”
“Then why you trippin’?”
“I’m not tripping.”
“Then chill. You talkin’ like it’s some regular-type shit. Scoop my fam up, and be done with it, aiight?” He sighs, pausing. “Damn. It ain’t that serious.”
“I know it’s not. I already told you, I’m picking him up. I was only telling you how I felt about it. Sunday is our only time together, and I don’t wanna sit there and share it with him, or anyone else?”
He laughs. “Awwww, let me find out, my baby, wants me all to herself. You want big daddy all to yourself, baby?”
No, what I want is an empty passenger seat. “You already know,” I say, glancing back up at the clock. It’s five minutes to nine. The shop’ll be open in another hour or so. I flip through the appointment book. I have four clients scheduled today, and will probably end up with a walk-in or two before I bounce out of here tonight.
“I feel you, sexy. Don’t sweat that shit, though. I’ma be home in a minute, feel me? Then it’s on. We nonstop fuckin’—hard, ya heard?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I moan, pressing my thighs together, remembering how good Jasper used to use his lips, his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his deliciously thick dick—to work my pussy over until it ached and throbbed and erupted. I open my mouth to tell him how much I need to feel him inside of me, but the call is abruptly disconnected.