Zane's Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3 (13 page)

• • •

At ten a.m. next morning, they’re already downstairs sitting in the lobby. We say our greetings, then head out the door. I decide to take them over to Punda, the shopping district, then over to St. Anna Bay Channel. We walk through Fort Rif, which has shops, restaurants, and bars, to get to the Queen Emma Bridge into Punda.

“So where you beauties from?”

“Well, I’m from Jersey,” Molasses says.

“Oh, word? What part?”

“West Paterson.”

“Oh, aiight; that’s wassup.” Caramel tells me she’s from Philly. And Chocolate says she’s originally from Brooklyn, but lives in Arizona. Although I’m looking at Chocolate Beauty, I ask them all how they know each other.

“From college,” Molasses answers.

“We’re sorors,” Caramel adds.

I smile and for some freaky reason Zane’s book
The Sisters of APF
comes to mind. I blink back my dirty thoughts.

Once we get to the shopping district, I let them do them while I find a spot to listen to my iPod. Once they’ve finished picking up souvenirs and whatnot, we head over to Plasa Bien for some local island food, then back to the hotel.

“Whew, that was delicious,” Chocolate Beauty says, rubbing her belly as we walk back over the bridge.

“Yes, it was,” Molasses agrees. “Thanks so much for showing us around. We really appreciate it.”

I smile. “No problem. I’m glad you beauties enjoyed yourselves.”

“We definitely did,” Caramel says.

Once we get to the hotel lobby, we hop on the elevator together, exchange more small talk until they get off on the fourth floor.

“Hopefully we’ll see you tonight at the bar,” Chocolate Beauty says.

I wink. “No doubt.” I keep my eyes locked on her ass until the elevator doors close.
Four days to go before that pussy gets back up on that plane. I gotta fuck her tonight.

• • •

I don’t get down to the Infinity Bar until after nine. And I definitely don’t expect to see Chocolate Beauty still there, but I’m pleasantly surprised that she is. She smiles when she sees me.

“Where are your girls?”

“Down in the casino.”

“Oh, aiight. You didn’t wanna get ya gamble on with ’em?”

She shakes her head. “I told them I’ll meet up with them a little later. It’s too beautiful out to be sitting up in a casino.”

I agree. Glad I don’t have to worry about them cock-blocking. I order a cranberry juice. We talk a bit. I’m digging the vibe. But after an hour into the convo, I’m getting restless. The clock is ticking and I need to get them damn panties off.

“Yo, real talk,” I say to her in almost a whisper. “I wanna feel your warm pussy wrapped around my dick.”

She looks at me, startled, shifting in her seat. She gulps down the rest of her drink and signals for another. “Wow” is the only thing she says at first, taking me in. “You waste no time, huh?”

“Nah, I definitely don’t. I see what I want and I go after it. And right now I wanna spend time tasting you, caressing you, and slipping my dick into you.” I lock my gaze on hers. I can tell by the way she’s blushing that I’ve made her pleasantly uncomfortable.

“No need to be acting all shy,” I say to her. I pause when the bartender returns with her drink. I wait for him to bounce, then continue. “I’m grown, you’re grown. I’m here, you’re here. I’m unattached, you’re …” I pause, giving her the chance to fill in the blanks.

She swallows back her drink. “Married,” she pushes out, staring back at me. I guess she’s waiting for me to shift gears with that knowledge. I don’t.

I shrug. “Okay, so you’re married. That says and means nothing
to me. And, no disrespect, but obviously it no longer means much to you, either.”

She shifts her eyes, slides her straw in between her lips, and takes a slow sip of her drink. I wish that straw was my dick instead.

She sets her drink back down on the bar, then starts toying with her napkin. “Is it that obvious?”

I nod. “Something like that. But it’s all good, baby. I’m not here to judge.”
Just to hit them walls right.

I order her another drink and order myself another cranberry juice. “But obviously shit’s not right at home, ’cause if it were, you wouldn’t be sitting here without your wedding ring on.”

She glances down at her hand. “It’s in the safe.”

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“When I spotted you at the airport in Miami, I noticed you didn’t have it on then, either. So … that says to me, beautiful, that your little getaway with ya girls is really for something more.”

“Listen … look. I’m really flattered, but—”

“Hold up, ma,” I say, cutting her off. “I’m not looking to wife you, or disrupt your life. All I’m saying to you is I like what I see. You sexy as fuck. And I wanna swirl my dick all up in that sweet chocolate of yours.”

She almost chokes on her drink.

I stand up. “Damn, you aiight, ma?”

She pats her chest, then gulps down the rest of her drink. She’s staring up at me.

“Look,” I say in almost a whisper. “I want you to feel something.”

“What’s that?” she asks cautiously.

I glance down at the bar and notice she and I are the only ones still out here. Wyndel is too busy cleaning up to even notice us. I take her right hand, lift it up to my lips, then gently kiss the inside of her palm. Then I take it and place it on my hard dick. Surprisingly, she doesn’t snatch her hand back.

“You like how that feels?”

She sheepishly grins, nodding.

I lean into her ear. “Yo, tell me something. And keep it a hunnid.”

She eyes me. “What?”

“Is your pussy wet?” She nods again. “Good.” I take her by the hand, gently pulling her. She wants to know where I’m taking her. “Back to my room.”

The minute we step inside, I pull her by her hair toward me and slide my tongue in her mouth, massaging her titties. She moans; tries to pull away from me. I hold on. Nibble on her earlobe, then kiss the side of her neck. “You know you wanna ride this dick.” She moans again. I lift her short skirt up over her hips, carry her over to the desk, then sit her up on it.

“Oh, God … I don’t know what you’re doing to me. You have me about to do things I never thought I’d do.”

“Oh, word? Like what?” I ask, sliding my hand between her legs, pulling at her G-string. I pop it up against her clit, then slip my middle finger into the center of her goodness.

“Like this …” she pants. “Cheat on my husband.”

“Obviously, the nigga isn’t handling his business right,” I whisper in her ear. “’Cause if he was, you wouldn’t be sitting here with ya legs spread and ya pussy all hot ’n wet, now would you?”

I pinch her clit. She lets out a gasp.

“Yeah, that nigga isn’t hitting this pussy the way you want, is
he? Hell, he can’t be. This hot pussy needs to be stroked e’ery night, baby.”

She moans.

“Oooh, aaah, mmmmm … Wait, wait … aaah, mmmm … I can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” I say, unbuckling my belt, then letting my jeans drop down ’round my ankles. I’m standing in front of her with my dick thick as steel. I pull her G-string, let it pop against her pussy, again. I reach over for a condom on the dresser, then roll it down on my dick before pushing it up into her. She gasps, grips my arms, digs her nails into my skin. I lift her hips up off the desk, then give her everything she isn’t getting at home—thick dick, waves of orgasms. I make her feel everything her husband can’t or won’t—wanted, beautiful, sexy. She throws her head back, closes her eyes. Lets my dick take her on a journey she’s never been on before. She screams ’til her body starts to tremble. I pick up my pace; speed-fuck her with half my dick, then slow fuck her with all of it. She wraps her arms ’round my neck. I take in her face. Eyes rolled back, bottom lipped pulled in.

She moans louder.

“Tell me. He isn’t giving you the dick like this, is he?”

“Uh …”

“That nigga probably gotta little-ass dick, doesn’t he?” I thrust my dick up into her, stabbing at the roof of her pussy. She matches my thrusts, slipping her tongue back into my mouth. She groans.

“Aaah … oooh … aaaaah.”

“This is my pussy now, baby,” I whisper in her ear.

She moans again.

“Tell me this good pussy’s mine.”

I suck on her earlobe, kiss her on her neck, her lips, then suck on her bottom lip. We fuck ’til we’re hot ’n sweaty; ’til she’s dripped and gushed and stained up my dick; ’til I’ve flooded my condom with a thick nut.

• • •

By Monday, I have Chocolate Beauty sprawled out naked on a beach towel at Playa Kenepa Chiki with me, one of my favorite island beaches. Weekends the small cove is packed, but on days like today, this gem of a beach is practically empty. Today, there’s only one other person out here, snorkeling.

Our bodies, slick and shiny with coconut tanning oil, are baking under the sun. Her succulent pussy lips are warm and sweet and sticky against my lips as I kiss and lick and tongue her slit. “Yeah, baby. You like that shit, don’t you?” I whisper in between wet tongue strokes.

She arches her back and moans. “Ohhhh, yesssss …”

I flick her clit, slipping my middle finger inside her slippery cunt. Her insides are hotter than the sun blazing on my muscled back. Yet, the ocean’s breeze cools my skin and defies the heat. My dick aches. And I can feel pre-cum seeping out of it. She begs me for the dick, and I oblige her.

“Open up for me, baby,” I urge, slow winding my hips into hers. She spreads her legs wider, invites me deeper into her wetness. I give her what she wants: deep, steady thrusts. Then ease my dick out to the head. “No, baby,” I whisper in her ear. I suck her earlobe. Tip drill her slit. I ease back and watch her pussy milk the head.

I plunge back in. Then pull back out. Watch as her juices coat my dick. I plunge back in again.

She gasps. Reaches for me, tries to pull me into her. I grab
her by the wrists, extend her arms up over her head, pinning her hands down into the white sand. “You want this dick?”

“Yes …”

“Then you’re gonna need to open up and release.”

She pants. “It is … I am. We are … oh, God, it feels so good. I am open …”

“Nah, I’m not talking ’bout your pretty-ass legs being opened.” I lift her left leg up and place it over my shoulder. “I’m talking ’bout you letting go. Release them inhibitions, baby.”

“I am … uhhhh … I have … mmm … how do you want me to open up?”

“Let your pussy enjoy this dick. Let me please your pussy.”

“Ooooh … my pussy is pleased.”

I thrust harder. “You sure?”

“Oh, yes … my pussy’s … so … fucking … pleased … mmmm … aaah … you make my pussy feel sooooo good …”

Her cunt muscles clamp around my dick.

I grip her by the hips, and under the heat of the Caribbean sun, pound her pussy, until it is quivering and erupting into multiple orgasms, coating my dick. She yells out, not caring who hears her. She begs and pleads for me to keep fucking her with this dick.

Yeah, this beauty will return to the States in two days well-fucked. And on them lonely nights when she’s lying in bed, feeling alone next to her hubby, her thoughts will drift back to her time here on the island of Curaçao being fucked under the sun. She’ll smile, always remembering the Pussy Pleaser.

Alegra Verde

He thought to punish her, but she was slick with need. So, he surged forth, the eager head of his penis ramming and thudding against her welcoming womb. Her thighs tightened around his. She mewled into his ear, the heat of her breath a caress, her fingers on his shoulders tugging the stiff cut of his suit coat tighter over his shoulders. He could feel the cloth, taut, straining against the skin and muscle of his arms and back, the sleeves pulling, trying to restrain him. The seams could rip, the jacket could tear straight down the center for all he cared, but he wasn’t going to stop.

His fingers clutched the firm flesh of her ass, trying to hold her steady for his assault, but she squirmed. The wet lips of her sex gripped him tight, hugging, holding him as he tried to pull away in preparation for another thrust. With her eager little pussy lapping at him, he couldn’t bear to pull too far out. He pushed forward again into the lava-coated cavern. Eyes closed and mouth open, she ground herself against him, even as a tear slid over her cheek. He licked it off and covered her mouth with his, his tongue claiming all that it touched in a wild siege.

Suddenly, her eyes opened and she sucked on his tongue as her sex quivered around his straining cock. She raised her haunches higher and he lurched forward, sinking further into her, onto her, his chest heavy on the cushion of her breath. The
tie that he had tugged loose because he couldn’t breathe when he’d first entered the church was suddenly far too tight.

Then she was on top. His head was pressed into the aging, wine-colored carpet. She was riding him, sliding her heat up and down the sensitive skin of his pulsing rod as the soft pads of her ass slapped against his straining balls every time her hot, wet pussy slid down his cock, taking him completely; the slick lips sliding against his groin in a musky kiss.

Her dress must have felt confining, too, because she was pulling the slinky black fabric up like she wanted it off now. As she did, she exposed a line of thigh, the deep side curve of her waist, the flatness and the dimple at the pit of her stomach, and then the plump mound of her pussy with its sparse, dark curls as she slid forward. He held on to her hips, his grip increasing as he watched her tightness consume him.