Man Swappers (39 page)

“Aaaah, shit, baby, you real nasty tonight,” he groans, yanking me by the hair and slapping my apple-bottom ass. I yelp and moan. He wedges his knee against my thigh and forces my legs open wider.

“I’m not your
baby
,” I grunt, pushing my ass up against his hips. “I’m your slutty bitch. Say it!”

“Dirty, little slut! Ugh, fuck…nasty bitch…”

“Yeah, that’s it, nigga. Fuck my slutty ass…”

He fucks me deep.

“Ohhh, yes…ooooh, you have my ass on fire…”

His fingers part the lips of my pussy.

“Aaaaaah, aaaaaaah…right there…ooooooh, yes…that’s it…”

He fucks me hard.

I howl.

He groans as he pounds me, slipping his fingers into my silky slit.

“Yessssssss, fuuuuuuuuuck me, nigga!” I yell.

My ass is on fire.

My pussy is smoldering.

He kisses the back of my neck, bites my ear; his raw, naked cock fucking me in deep delicious strokes.

“Oh, shit…this ass feels so fuckin’ good…tight…hot…oh, fuck… you like this rock hard dick in ya ass?”

“Yesssss! Ohsweetmotherfuckinggeezus…I love how good your dick feels in my tight…hot ass…”

“Whose ass is it?”

“Yourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssssssssssssss,” I hiss, bucking my hips to match his thrusts.

He fucks me harder, fucks me faster. “Is this what you want, nasty lil’bitch?”

“Yessssssssssssssssssssssss, motherfucker! Fuck me harder!”

We’ve become two sweaty animals; frenzied lover-beasts racing toward a common goal of guttural release. Legs splayed as wide as possible, his thick dick beating up my ass, pounding my walls. I cream on his fingers.

His breathing becomes erratic, hurried. “Fuck…oh, shiiiiiiiit… this muthfuckin’ ass’s so gooooooooood…daaaaamn, baby…”

“Nut in me,” I urge, knowing this act is risky, and dangerous. But it’s a chance I’m recklessly willing to take. He’s fucked Paris. He thinks he’s still fucking her. This excites me. I think, change my mind. “Noooo, don’t nut in me. Let me feel your hot cream shoot all over my ass…”

I watch him over my shoulder. Head jutted back, face contorted, eyes squished shut, he quickly pulls out; becomes an erupting volcano,
spurting hot lava up against my ass and back. “Ohhhhhh, fuck!”

When he’s done coming, he tries to pull me into him; wants to kiss me. I step away from him. Tell him to wash off. That he needs to go.

“Damn, it’s like that?”

I nod, gathering my clothes up from the floor. “Yeah.” I glance at the time. 8:46.
Ohmygod, I need to get home,
I think, watching him walk into the bathroom. I stare at his muscular, hairy ass, his hamstrings, and calves.
Damn, he has a nice body! No wonder Paris wants to keep his sexy ass a secret.

“So, you just gonna toss a muhfucka out?” he asks, eyeing me.

The way he looks at me…the way he holds my gaze.

A thought is conjured up as he locks his eyes onto mine.
This nigga is in love with her.

I blink the notion from my mind before guilt takes root. “I have to get home,” I tell him, feeling unnerved. I watch as he washes his dick in the sink. I hand him a clean hand towel to dry off with. The tips of his fingers graze my hand. I want to know more about him and Paris. “Who else you fucking besides me? I just let you hit it raw, and I hope you don’t have anything. The last thing I need or
want
is a disease.”

He glances at me, studies me. “Yo, I told you. I’m solo. I ain’t out there like that. Shit, don’t you think it’s a little too late to be asking me that? I mean, shit. You know how we got down the first two times we got it in. We
both
were reckless. And here we go again.” He shakes his head. “Damn, you got my head all fucked up. I’m the kinda cat who always wraps it up. And here I am, slipping with you. Shit.” He steps back into his boxers, then his jeans. I watch as he slides his wife beater over his head, then puts on his shirt. “How many other cats you gettin’ it in with?”

I blink. Hold back a smirk. Mmmph. That nasty little bitch done gave him raw pussy. And now he thinks she done gave him some ass, too. “A few,” I tell him.

He stares at me. “They hittin’ it raw?”

I shake my head, picking up my phone. There’s a text from Paris. “No. I’m not normally so messy,” I decide to tell him. Yes, half-truths. “But there’s something about you that brings out the slutty side of me.”

He grins. “So, what’s good now? We tryna take this somewhere, or you wanna keep shit how it is—straight-up, no-strings fuckin’?”

I’m tempted to tell him that I’ve played a nasty little prank on him, but decide against it. I’ll keep it hush-hush. “Let’s keep it how it is.” I walk him out into the front of the store. “And see how it all unfolds.”

He grabs me, pulls my naked body into him. “Cool. But, yo, I’m not sure who you were in that office tonight. But she was mad nasty. And I liked that shit.”

I smile. “Don’t get used to her. She only comes out when I’m real horny.” I grab at his dick.

“Oh, word?”

“Yup,” I say, reaching for his zipper. “Let me suck your dick one more time, before I put you out.”

He laughs, but allows me to fish his dick out of the slit in his boxers. “Yo, ma…you funny as…” I slip his dick into my mouth; suck it until he hardens. I cup his balls. “Aaaah, shiiiit…yeah, baby, suck that dick…”

Like a greedy little cum-slut, I suck his dick until he bucks his hips and shoots his load down into my throat. “Daaaaaaamn. Whew, you got a muhfucka’s head spinnin’.”

I suck his dick clean, swallow his load, then walk him to the door, stepping behind it to hide my nakedness as I open it. I tell
him goodnight. And this time, when he leans into kiss me, I let him. Then I whisper my number in his ear.

He smiles. “So you ready to finally let me snatch you up?”

I grin, eyeing him sexily. “I’ve been ready,” I tease, rubbing his dick over his jeans one last time. I don’t even know this nigga’s name. But what I do know is tonight’s rendezvous will be my dirty little secret. And I
will
fuck him again.

Paris
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I
’m in my hotel room, naked and sprawled out in the middle of the queen-size bed. I close my eyes, cross my arms and begin caressing my breasts, my left hand cupping the right tit, my right hand stroking the left. My nipples, stiff corks of chocolate, are extremely sensitive. I twist and knead them between my soft fingers. I let out a moan, eager to feel my swelling orgasm erupt and spurt out of my pussy.

I sit up and remove the towel from around my head, then grab one of the hotel’s pillows and roll it in half, wrapping the towel around it. I straddle the pillow, pressing my hips into it, slowly grinding. I close my eyes, tighter. Think, imagine, conjure up a scenario that will bring me to the edge.

Behind my eyelids, there’s a tall, dark-skinned man, stroking his dick into a long, thick erection. We’re in an abandoned building. And there’s a dozen or so other men standing in the room watching as well. Homeless, naked, and horny, they pull out their cocks and begin jerking off, too. I keep my eyes locked on the exotic-looking warrior with the rippled abs, muscular track legs and chiseled arms. The slit of his dick oozes precum. I’m licking my lips. He’s licking his.

I grind onto the pillow, ride it, pressing my clit deep into my towel-wrapped lover. An inanimate object, along with my overactive
imagination, will seduce me into a delicious orgasm. I hump the pillow with slow, rhythmic thrusts at first, then rock my hips faster against the damp towel. My pussy’s overheating and leaking sticky juices. I reach down and pinch my clit, causing bolts of electricity to shoot through my body.

“Uhhh…oooh…you wanna fuck this hot, horny cunt?” I ask my naked admirer in a strained whisper. “You want this to be your cock I’m riding, instead of this pillow?”

My chocolate Adonis grins and grunts. He does not speak; just stares and strokes. It is the onlookers who sneer and speak lewdly at me. “Show us your cunt, bitch?”

“Pull open your ass. Let me fuck you in that slutty ass of yours?”

“Let me shoot this nut down in your throat, bitch.”

Their harsh words cause my muscles to contract as I slide my slippery cunt down over the pillow. I’m making deep grunts, followed by groans.

“Yeah, you pretty bitch, let me split your pussy open with this big-ass dick,” I hear in back of me. But I don’t turn to look. I keep my eyes glued to the man in front of me. He is licking his lips, dipping at the knees, beating his dick in fierce, fiery strokes. Then in synchronized motion, they begin to move in toward me, encircling me. Their dicks, engorged and dripping with lust, are aimed at me. I can now smell a musky odor wafting through the air. My nipples are as hard as boulders. I can feel myself on the verge of an orgasm, and I can tell by the lusty glazes in their eyes, that they are, too. I hump, and grind, and buck my hips onto the pillow as they rapidly jerk their cocks. We’re all grunting and moaning and panting with desperate anticipation for a sweet release.

And as if on cue, they aim their cocks directly at me and shoot hot wads of cum all over me—my back, my ass, my hips, the back
of my head, my face; cum sticks to me, and dangles from my chin and strands of my hair.

Another wave of orgasms crash up against my inner walls, then rush out hard and rapid.

My body shudders.

I tighten my eyes closed.

I get up from off my knees, then walk toward the door, never looking back. When I get outside, it is dusk out. A few men from inside the apartment building have followed behind me. I can tell they want another round; maybe for now, perhaps for in the near future. They’re sniffing and howling behind me like rabid dogs in heat. I see a picnic table setup off to the side and slightly out of view from the building. A smirk forms my crusty lips as I get an idea, walking over to the table. I decide to drop my jeans, then my G-string. I bend over the edge of the table, flashing them my round, bubble-ass. I wait for what seems like hours until someone finally comes over to me. It takes almost forty-three seconds before I feel someone finally standing behind me, reaching for my ass. I crane my neck. Behind me is a thick, chocolate, crosseyed nigga with dreads. He has a short, hairy dick, but it’s extra fat. He’s touching the area around my hole with it, tickling my slit before plunging inside of me, stretching me. I gasp. Moan. Back up on him. Throw this ass up on his dick.

Pump my hips.

Milk his dick.

Release guttural sounds deep from the back of my throat.

When he’s done, seven other niggas take turns fucking me from the back, alternating from fucking my pussy to fucking my face. Some nut in my pussy, leaving it dripping and open. Others bust on my face adding to my already gooey mess. When they all have finished pumping and dumping their heavy loads out, I stand
up, then shake my bare ass toward my car as cum oozes out of my hole and slides down the inner part of my thighs.

“Whew,” I say as I collapse face-down on the bed, and wait for the room to stop spinning. My heart continues to pound as I attempt to catch my breath. I roll over on my side and reach for my ringing cell. It’s Persia. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:47
P.M.
“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“Ooooh, why you sound all out of breath?”

“I was in here doing aerobics,” I tell her, touching my clit, then licking my fingers.

She laughs. “Unh-uh. Let me guess. Doing two-finger squats.”

I suck my teeth, laughing with her. “Whatever, hooker. How were things down at the boutique?”

“Oh, good,” she says quickly. “The day went by exceptionally fast. I couldn’t believe it. I have to tell you. I really enjoyed manning the store for you today.”

Mmmm, that’s strange
. Persia has never
enjoyed
covering for me anytime I’ve asked her to. Yet, tonight she’s taken pleasure in it. I purse my lips. “That’s good to hear. So what made it so
enjoy
able?” She tells me nothing specific. That she can’t put her finger on what made the day at Paradise pleasurable. “Well, was it busy?”

“At times,” she tells me, sounding distracted. “There was a steady flow of customers. And then there were a few hours where it was sort of slow. But, it gave me time to refold clothes and do some of my own work.”

“That’s good. How were sales?” I ask, walking into the bathroom and placing her on speakerphone while I wet a washcloth. I lather it up, then wash my face.

“Very good. I sold a few tees and a Judith Leiber piece.”

“Oooh, which one?” I ask excitedly. She tells me The Grand Dutchess piece. I smile. That’s a thirty-nine-hundred-dollar bag.
She tells me I pulled in close to six grand today. “Oh, that’s great, girl. Shit, I need to have you cover for me more often.”

“Girl, you know I got you. Annnnnytime, boo.”

Unh-uh, something isn’t right
. “Oh, reaaaaaallly, now?” I walk back into the room, sitting on the bed. “Hmmm. Sounds like there was a whole lot more happening there than sales.”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” she responds, quickly again, still sounding preoccupied. “Other than those sales, it was a pretty uneventful day.” Something’s not right. It’s in her tone. An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Desmond pops in my head. I ask her if there were any calls or messages for me. I didn’t think to tell him I was going to be out of town for the night. Not that it’s any of his business. Still, it would’ve kept him from calling for me at the store and Persia picking up.
Oh God, I hope he didn’t call me today.
“No, nothing I couldn’t handle. And there were no messages for you.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, surprised that I’m a little disappointed; yet, relieved at the same time that he didn’t call. “Good.”

“Why?” she asks, curiosity coursing through her tone. “Were you expecting a call from someone?”

“No. I was only asking.”

“Oh. Well, enough shop talk. I wanna know how things are going in Lancaster with you and the Wicked Witch?”