Spring Flirting(Part 2 in Naked Rose Series) (9 page)

At the set we met with the star himself,
Tupac Shakur, who came in later with his entourage and the very
erotic video happened. It was actually in two parts. First we did
the censored edition for public viewing which was hot in its own
right; and at the insistent prompting of Tupac himself, we had to
go all out and act out the wild uncensored version which only few
people got to see. It was after the shoot of the wild edition that
Tupac got to me and silently led me to his private trailer. See,
let me tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the
truth. I never meant to betray Taye and fuck Tupac that night. But
Tupac was a powerful presence. Forget his riches and celebrity
status, to me he was the definition of a man. Valiant, outspoken,
poetic- any woman in the world will give up anything to fuck the
guy. And he was damn handsome too. Six packs on his tattooed chest
rippled as he did his thing on the set; and I’m sure there was no
girl on the set who didn’t steal dirty glances at him, thinking
panties-wetting thoughts in their minds. In all honesty, I didn’t
have it in mind to seduce him even though secretly I desired him.
But fate had its way of making secret wishes come true for Virgos.
Eventually it was Tupac himself who made the move that made the
night a milestone in my sexual life. This was how it went down.

After the video shoot, I was with my girls,
freshening up on my seat before the lighted mirror in the trailer
allotted to us, when we heard a knock at the door. “Come in” I
piped to see a delivery man ask for Rose, and when I said it was me
and identified myself he handed me a gift package which I signed
for and opened after he left to see a rich assortment of gifts that
took our breaths away. Inside the package was a black velvet box, a
scented red rose and pink envelope containing a short poem written
with long strokes that read thus:

Rose is the epitome

Of all that is beautiful

And of the many colors there are

None is as exquisite as you.

2pac.

I flushed pink all over when I read his poem
to me and blushed like a teenager in first love. I mean it was me
Tupac was toasting with such seductive words. But when I opened the
velvet case where a pair of Cartier diamond earrings glittered with
luster, I just lost my thoughts like vapor fly into thin air. My
girls too. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend no doubt. And not
being a naïve girl or an idiot I knew what Tupac’s gift signified.
The only question was whether I was down for the ride or not. And
without much vacillation I decided I was. In my heart of hearts I
secretly wanted to fuck Tupac, so as to always cherish the memory
within me. My little Victoria Secret if you know what I meant.
Prompted further by my girls who knew it was a rare moment and
honor to bed a real man and knowing the gift was a pass to visit
Tupac’s trailer; to say thank you as a courteous girl would do but
also to finally get a chance at wish fulfillment, I traced my way
to his private trailer to gift him my naked rose and to experience
one of the greatest sex of my life.

“Knock, Knock!!” I rapped on his door.
Looking like a vixen I was, I knew Tupac like any virile man would
stir to see me. Always a stunner, I wore a low neck yellow Roberto
Cavalli blouse that pronounced my ample cleavage with a short blue
YSL skirt that revealed the silk of my caramel thighs to ogling
eyes, complete with an orange Louis Vitton stilletos with silver
heels . It was his manager that answered the door and after he let
me in disappeared from the scene like a character in a magician’s
trick. Men and silent codes I mused in my mind where I sat on the
couch, checking out Tupac with a thumping heart feverish with
anticipation.

“Please give me a minute to tidy up this
paperwork, babe. Feel good in my bunk alright” he said in his
convivial voice, setting me at ease. From the bed where he sat, he
looked me over with a sweeping glance and nodded in appreciation of
my lustful beauty before resuming work on the documents in front of
him. His sultry look almost tore my panties into shreds. To be
distracted from my kinky thoughts, I picked up a magazine from the
rack placed beside the couch where I sat, flipping through the
pages absently, trying to cool my body charged with sexual
anticipation; my system flushed with estrogen.

Presently, done with his task Tupac rose up
from the bed and moved nearer to me, pushing a chair close to sit
opposite me and talk to me, heart to heart; with his husky baritone
and burning hazel eyes, his ambience smelling of Calvin Klein
signature cologne .

“Thanks for honoring my invitation to come.
Your performances blew up my video today. Whoa! The world will be
so amazed at its hotness. I’m very grateful to you beauties”. He
held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. This Tupac of a man I
thought. Was he aware of how much electricity was running through
me with his mere touch? Did he know my heart was beating at 100
paces per minute because of the current passing through his fiery
eyes? But I acted all composed and collected, broaching why I was
in his camp.

“You don’t have to thank us. We only did our
jobs as models. It is our joy too to see our feature videos hot and
yours was smoking fire”. Hearing this, his face lit up with
zeal.

“So you think it’s hot too. I was just
telling Damien my manager it would be a hit. It is why I sent you
the package as a token of appreciation. I hope you liked its
content.”

“Oh it’s the same reason I came actually. To
say thank you. It was absolutely generous of you to send me gifts.
I am very thankful. The poem took my breath away. So stirring a
piece. Thanks a lot Tupac. You flattered me”.I replied blushing
slightly as his hands brushed my thighs

“It’s nothing, babe. Moreover, you deserve
it and more. And today being my birthday I thought I should spoil
myself a little. Make someone special whom I care about happy” he
continued in his tease

“Today is your birthday?” I quipped. “Oh I
didn’t know. Hope you had fabulous gifts and a birthday cake. Happy
birthday to you. I wish you many happy returns”. I sang, rolling my
eyes at him, overwhelmed by his nearness to me.

“Thank you” he said, moving away from his
chair to sit beside me on the couch.

“You see baby, today I have had all the
gifts to make my birthday great. Cake, song, party, name it…but
none has deigned to give me the best gift I could ever hope to get
on my birthday- a great birthday sex.” He continued in his honeyed
falsetto, tickling me deep.

“And when I saw you on the set today, my
fantasy in flesh and blood, I made a birthday wish to myself. To
have you at whatever price you name even though I knew I couldn’t
possibly buy you. I know your beauty is priceless. So now that you
are here and have heard of my birthday wish…will you let me have
you as my crowning birthday gift tonight, sweet Rose?”

You see, even if I was a stone hearted
woman, sworn to celibacy like a nun; the plea of Tupac that moment
was too overwhelming to be refused and in replying I just pulled
him to me and sought out his sweet mouth. Kissing him lavishly on
the mouth I dug into his chest, scratching his nipples as I tossed
his singlet from his head with a pull to see his sculpted tattoo
filled body. It seemed made of steel when I felt it with my gentle
caresses, feeling around the gun-shot scars at his left underarm.
In kissing Tupac was not rough with me at all, defying the
stereotypes. He was a poetic lover-methodical and aware. He kissed
me fondly there on the couch, one hand already inside my blouse
from down under, fondling my boobs inside the bra while the other
tousled my hair in avid arousal. He was very sensual and slow.
Before I knew it, Tupac’s hand had probed inside my skirt, parting
my panties to the side to tickle me on my vulva opening. At his
touching of my passion bud I lost control. He had guitarist fingers
the way he struck my love triangle. I embraced him hard, scratching
his broad back with my fingernails, purring in sheer delight at the
sensation he was strumming betwixt my legs.

Shortly he withdrew his hand and came up for
air, breaking the kiss to exhale and also to undress me from the
waist up. With a flush movement my blouse was removed from my body
after which Tupac bent down to unhook my bra straps at my back,
enveloping me in his cocoa smell. Now half nude, my breasts jutted
out in front of me like two bulbs of pleasure, and I covered them
with my arms like a virgin, seducing Tupac with a tease. Sporting a
grin on his hard face he parted my arms to behold my boobs again,
laid my back on the couch and descended on me. The heat of his
mouth on my tit peaks was searing and pleasant at the same time I
let out a gasp. Like I said earlier, Tupac was a methodical lover
who knew that gentility is the soul of a satisfying foreplay; and
with this knowledge took me to the top of pleasure hill with his
expeditions on my body. He would look me deep in the eyes and kiss
me with his soul; lovingly, lavishly, lushly. Then he would proceed
to kiss the side of my mouth; the back of my ear; then my neck,
biting me like a vampire only to tickle the bite with his tongue;
down between my cleavages, tracing a wet line there with his
tongue; bristling the hair on my body with the heat of his breath
before settling his probe on my tits. At my tits, Tupac ignited me
like a xmas tree, making me glow with pleasure and sweetness.
Circling his tongue on my tits, he would clamp the nipple softly
with his teeth and graze with unfailing tenderness. It was at
Tupac’s hand I knew pain could be so pleasurable. He was a sex
maestro. On my part, I reciprocated his job; moaning sweetly with
slanted eyes, urging him to do more while my hands searched out his
steely body, caressing, pinching, scratching him where I could
touch; crooning sweet nothings in his ears . You know men get
aroused more from our singing than anything else. It massages their
masculine ego when women respond to their work in words and
actions. A snippet of feminarchy. Soon, Tupac released his hold on
me and leaned back on the couch, eyes mischievous.

“Time to do me, baby. Let me feel your
tigress attack me. Right now I wanna be wounded by you baby” he
said with a grin, patting me playfully on my arse as I rose from
the couch and went on my knees in front of him. Unbuckling his
belt, I rubbed his hardness inside his white Karl Kani jeans with
teasing fingers before pulling down the jeans to his knees.
Surprised I was to find that Tupac had on no drawers. His massive
penis was nodding enthusiastically when I freed it from its
constraint and held it in my hand, shadowed by a dark gun-shot scar
around his pubes. Reaching up to give Tupac a teasing kiss, I bent
down to do justice to his expectant dick- a special birthday treat
for the greatest rapper in the world by Rose of the Candy Girls.
Holding his throbbing meat in my hand I first gave him a teaser in
line with the teachings of feminarchy. I ovaled my mouth over the
crown of his cock and popped it twice. Pop! Pop!! Before he could
finish exclaiming I put the whole of his cock in my mouth and
rolled. Head bobbing up and down I gave him the job he had been
dreaming of for his birthday, evident in the ghetto praise Tupac
was pouring on me as I pleasured him like no woman would ever do
again.

“
Fantastic. Classic. Yes
that’s it. Suck it hard. Yes mamacita. Uhh Lawd this is good. Blow
me like a coke. Yes suck me like a ho. Oh I like it. I love it
baby. It’s my birthday. Yes this is my birthday cake. For me only.
Oh. Ahh. Yes! ...”

Spurred by his encomium I sucked Tupac like
I was thirsty for cum. Grabbing his thick dick with my left hand I
would chew on its cap and then spit on it, slapping its hardness
against my cheeks and at intervals rubbing its cap on my hard
titties, all this time looking up at him with drunk eyes, moaning
like a pornstar. Oh how he loved it. Tupac could be beastly when
driven. He would grab my head and move it forcefully in fast swipes
to chop on his stiff rod, almost choking me with it I coughed
saliva on his dick, licking it teeth and lips. It was an orgy of
sort between the two of us, moaning, munching and mating in pure
bliss.

Sated from my job on his hard member, Tupac
lifted me from the floor and placed me back on the couch. He then
removed my skirt from my waist, playfully stroking the tiny gold
band I wore around my waist in erotic fascination, deliberately
leaving on my Victoria Secret panties and stood up to go to a small
wine cabinet placed beside his bed. Opening the cabinet, he brought
out two fancy looking bottles and a glass and mixed the two drinks
together in a cup. He brought the cup to the bed and its orange
color made me wonder what it was. Voicing out my thoughts like a
seer.

“Thug Passion” he said, tilting the cup to
his mouth to take a drag.

“
One part Alize, one part
Cristal. It’s my aphrodisiac. Wanna try? ”

I nodded yes and Tupac brought the cup to my
lips to taste, with me wondering what effect the Thug Passion would
have on our performance as I guzzled down its sweetly sharp
content. I was not to wonder for long. Coming to where I laid on
the couch, Tupac went on his knees over me, placing his face
between my thighs. He bent down and blew a gust over the fur line
leading to my pubes. It felt warm. He then tasted its dewy surface
with his hot tongue, scalding my cunt with electric charges. I
moaned out in sheer sexual delight. Thinking Tupac would continue
with his tease I was to be surprised by his next action. Picking
the glass containing the Thug Passion, he brought it directly over
my lacy cunt and poured, placing his mouth at my pussy opening to
drink as the drink frothed over my lace panties and camel toe
dripping into his mouth. Could I possibly verbalize the experience
to you, I doubt. Tupac guzzled down the drink as it splattered over
my pussy, licking with his long tongue as the drink stung my pussy
walls with bubbles. Fired with sexual watts, I grabbed my boobs
with my hands and tweaked its tits as he sucked on my sweetened
cunt, parting the wet string to the side before dipping two indexes
inside its wet cave and fingering me to drip juices over his hands.
He was a freak to the core. Fingering me like a savage boring a
crab hole, he would rise up to feed me with his sodden fingers,
kissing me with it as both our tongues lick his fingers, slurping
in sensual unison. I cried like a babe under his expert
ministration.