Zane's Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3 (35 page)

“I like it doggy-style,” Brandon said. I really didn’t care what position I was in. I wanted Brandon to fuck my brains out.

Whoever was watching was cool about keeping quiet. It had not occurred to Brandon to check whether the door was locked. I felt his fingers pulling at my ass; cool air kissed my pussy lips. Brandon started to press hard against me. I could feel the blunt crown of his dick sliding slowly in my coochie. I looked to the Peeping Tom at the door as Brandon slid slowly inside me, filling me with his manhood. I could feel his washboard stomach graze against my ass. He held on hard to my hips as he thrust. I groaned softly, staring directly at the stranger as Brandon dicked me down.

I wanted him to stumble in and pretend to be surprised, say something stupid like, “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” You know, play it out like it was some kind of porn movie. I didn’t give a damn if it was one or one hundred frat boys standing there.

“Take it deep!” I said.

Brandon’s hands were hard and warm as he squeezed my titties, running his fingers along my nipples. I could make out the guy in the doorway grabbing at himself, his hand caressing the tent in his shorts. I leaned back against Brandon’s dick as he slid it steady in my pussy.

“You like that dick, girl?”

I rode Brandon’s dick slow. My pussy devoured inch after inch as I looked at the horned-up frat boy looking in at us. I imagined the whole house assembled outside Brandon’s room, men of all heights, weights, and dick sizes waiting anxiously to “freak” me.

“Gotdamn!” Oh, yeah, he was close. The smell of sex filled Brandon’s room. “I’m comin’! Fuck, I’m …” Brandon released a long groan as he came. As I hunched over on my elbows, his dick popped out of my pussy. “Fuck,” he said, breathlessly.

He slowly got up without a word being exchanged, and walked to the bathroom. I soon heard the sizzle of shower water. I showed the guy standing in the door my fucked but still hungry pussy while Brandon washed up in the bathroom. I was able to make out more of the man that had been standing there watching us. It was Mike D, the one who had asked me about getting free movie tickets. He was caressing his dick, licking his lips as he watched me play with myself. I waved for him to come in. Two fine-ass black boys in one night. It felt good to be a little slutty. Mike D walked in and closed the door. He was like a basketball player standing over me. He hooked a few fingers over the elastic of his shorts, causing his dick to pop forth, which was just as long as Brandon’s. The shade of his shaft was lighter, though; a pretty candy bar–brown. Mike D had these big bull balls. I opened my mouth for his entrance. He slid it past my lips. He wet his middle finger and inserted it slowly in my pussy as I sucked on his magic stick. We knew time was against us, but were cool as long as the shower water kept running. Mike D began to pivot faster, fingering my wet, pink core. I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick as I sucked him hard. I could feel his body tensing. Seconds before, he pulled out, coming on my titties.

I felt myself growing closer as Mike D fingered me. I wanted his dick inside me, but there was no time. I climaxed seconds before the shower water stopped. Mike D pulled his finger out of me, stuck it in his mouth, and sucked my juices from his digit. With a sinister look, he worked his wet dick back into his shorts, and exited Brandon’s room about as quietly as he entered. I
grabbed Brandon’s shirt to wipe up the mess his frat brother had made. I slid off of his bed and started to get dressed. Brandon walked out with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

“Damn, what time is it?” I asked.

“A little bit after three.” Brandon started retrieving the empty beer bottles off the floor. He opened his dresser drawer, plucked out a pair of clean boxers, and put them on under the towel. “You still at the same number?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want your girl to somehow get hold of my number and start trippin’.”

“I don’t let anybody use my phone. Not even Janiece.”

“Call me after eight. I’m usually home by then,” I told him. Brandon ushered me out of the room into the hall. He gave me a good night kiss on the cheek. “I’ll get you and your boys some passes.”

“Remember, live to work, girl. Don’t work to live.”

I descended the stairs, and left the house. Mike D was sitting on the stoop, smoking a Black n’ Mild like he’d just gotten the best blowjob of the damn century.

“Nice meeting you,” was all I said.

“Don’t forget them passes, shawty.”

“I’ll come by on Thursday and drop ’em off.”

“That’s w’sup,” Mike D said. “See ya soon, new booty.”

I got in my car and drove off, knowing good and damn well I would be back for more.

Jewells

The pool mirrors the moon in its stillness.

I dip the tip of my foot in and watch the moon’s reflection break into tiny pieces just as my life has shattered within the last twenty-four hours.

“I’m filing for divorce.”

My eyes sting as a fresh batch of tears form. I do everything I can to prevent them from falling. Clear my throat, swallow, cough. Nothing helps.

His familiar scent of Sicilian citron, apple, and cedarwood tickles my nose and betrays my emotions.

“How did we get here?” I ask as I feel him standing behind me.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he sits down next to me, rolls up the legs of his pants, and sticks his feet in the water right along with mine.

I look over at him; beg for answers with my liquid emotions.

He wipes away a tear just before it falls from my chin. “I think this is something we’ve both been wanting for a while. Why prolong the inevitable?”

I sigh. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I … I don’t want you to leave.”

Trevor looks up at the sky, says, “Full moon. Emotions always get the best of folks on nights like this.”

I lean my head against my husband’s shoulder. The shoulder
that has carried the weight of my infidelity for the last two years. His love for me kept him around all this time despite my indiscretion. It wasn’t intentional, wasn’t planned. It was a moment of weakness. I was lonely. Married and lonely. Two words that should never be used in the same sentence. His job kept him away more than a husband should be away from his wife. Seemed like the more I spoke up about it, the more business trips he would make. One trip lasted a week longer than planned. When he came back, I had already broken my vows.

“It wasn’t the way you think.”

His shoulder tenses under my head when I refer to that night. He tenses and shuts down every time I try to talk about it. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Are we really over?” I want to know, though I already know his answer. I just need to hear him say it again to make it official.

“The papers are on the dining room table. Movers will be here in the morning.”

My eyes begin to burn again.

Trevor leans his head down and places his lips against my forehead. “You’ll be okay. We both will.”

Maybe a full moon does get the best of people because as hurt as I am, another feeling between my thighs won’t let me break down the way my heart wants me to. Been fighting my hormones since he walked out smelling all good.

I lift my head; turn it in the direction of the lips that were just on my skin. I close my eyes and kiss my soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Let’s not—”

“Shhhhh,” I say as I try to gain some control over what happens in my life.

For a second, neither of us moves or says anything. Contemplation
is in the air. Him debating if he should oblige my offer. Me wondering if I should take it off the table.

He wins.

He removes his legs from the pool and walks back in the house.

I cover my face with my hands and tremble as the floodgates of my heart break open.

Footsteps entering the shallow end of the pool silence my sobs. I open my eyes to see Trevor walking toward me. He stops right in front of me, looks me in the eyes as if to ask if I’m sure I want to go there. With my irises, I tell him yes.

He moves in between my parted legs, reaches his hands behind me, and scoots me to the edge of the pool. Scoots my heat closer to his face. Long, slender fingers creep underneath my skirt and trace the edges of my thighs and the curve of my hips until they reach the top of my panties. I raise my torso up slightly for smooth removal. My panties are tossed to the side just like this marriage after eight years, but I refuse to think about that right now.

His eyes are intense as his face nears my warmth. He licks his lips, kisses each thigh softly. Again he grabs my rear and pulls me closer than close. His tongue navigates its way around familiar territory.

My head leans back, glazed-over eyes staring up at the moon as his tongue swims to depths only his tongue can go. My inner walls tighten around his thick tongue, trying to pull him in deeper, causing me to close my eyes and bite down on my lip at the same time. A moan trembles from my lips. He’s always been a gifted eater. I run my fingers through his locs, pull him closer than close.

His moans make my love below vibrate, tickle my pearl in the worst way.

I feel his eyes on me.

I put my eyes on him.

We stare.

He wants me to know this last time is personal.

I want him to know this last time is personal for me, too.

He flips me over on my stomach, throws my legs across his shoulders. Devours me from the back. His lips against mine, tongue flicking in between my folds. Smacking noises loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood. His tongue moves in and out of me as I ride his face like Secretariat going for the Triple Crown.

My trembling makes me lose my balance. He helps me turn back around and yanks my shirt above my head. Tosses it and my bra over where he tossed my panties a while ago. He doesn’t take my skirt off for whatever reason, and refrains from removing any of his clothes.

He submerges under the water, swims to the stairs on the shallow end of the pool. Sits and waits for me, pants pulled down to his ankles. I know what that means.

I go under the water and come back up with my face right in his lap. His firmness stands at attention waiting for me to salute. I lick its girth; let my tongue linger in the juices on the tip for a second before I let half of him disappear in my mouth. I know how he likes it; not too much at first. I flick my tongue up and down his shaft; take his cleanly shaven sperm holders into my mouth, let my moans vibrate against him like his did me moments ago. This time I take him all the way in my mouth, feel him slip down my throat.

He massages his fingertips against my scalp as I massage his
manhood with my mouth. He thrusts deeper down my throat and then nudges my head away. The hunger in his eyes is now a look of revenge. He grabs me away from the stairs and pulls me to the wall of the pool, turns my back to him. He prefers it that way. Hasn’t been able to face me as he enters me since my moment of weakness.

His hardness enters my soft spot without hesitancy.

I scream in torture and in pleasure.

“Is this how he did it to you?”

Trevor’s question catches me off guard. I don’t know what to say.

My silence takes him to another level as he grabs my breasts with both hands and fills my insides in a way he never has before. Pumping in and out like a drill trying to reach the bottom of the earth. If I said it didn’t feel good I’d be lying.

I toot my butt out to push him outside me. I want to stare at his wrath face-to-face.

He understands.

I reach in the water and escort him back into my fiery dungeon. I shiver as he enters me again.

They say to never look an animal in the eye because they will be able to see your fear. At this moment I wish I had listened. Fear is in my eyes. Looking in Trevor’s, I can see my fear of being alone. And if I can see it in his eyes, I know he can see it, too.

Alone.

The reason we are here.

I rock my hips hard; try to ride him back into this marriage.

He makes short, hard thrusts, tries to get my mind off the matters of this marriage.

We’re going at it like animals. Bucking like kangaroos and howling like wolves. Going at it so hard I feel my flesh scraping
against the edge of the pool. Trevor sees my pain. Without removing himself from me, he moves us back over to the stairs. He’s on top of me, growing inside me, the tip of his penis trying to knock my cervix out the ballpark. I bite down on his neck until I taste blood. That excites him all the more. He puts both of my nipples in his mouth, sucks hard like he’s trying to suck a thick milkshake through a too-small straw. It hurts and feels good at the same time. My fingernails claw at his back, his drill digging deeper into my earth. He’s trying his damndest to leave a lasting impression in my womb.

My legs shake. Not from ecstasy. I’m in pain.

Trevor’s too far gone to even realize this is no longer pleasure for me.

This is too much. This is vengeance. Not the way I want to remember my final hours with my husband.

Again, emotions get the best of me, and I lose it. I cry like I did when I confessed my adultery and saw how thin the line was between love and hate.