Best Black Women's Erotica (6 page)

Before she rinsed, she got up on her knees so that her vagina was just above the surface of the water. She added a little more gel to the washcloth and rubbed it between her legs and over her round behind.
Your ass is mine,
he often teased her. She smiled at the thought and began moving the cloth slowly back and forth between her legs. The cool air above her waist contrasted with the warm water around her hips and she arched her back to get the full effect of the sensation. She closed her eyes and began rotating her hips back and forth, pressing them into the hand that held the cloth.

“Can I join you?”

“Shit!” she shrieked, startled. Her husband stood naked in the bathroom doorway, holding two icy margaritas.

“I remembered we used the last of the mix and how much you like a good margarita,” he said.

She was embarrassed—how long had he been standing there? “You scared the hell outta me!” She lowered her body back into the water and began to wash again as though that was all she'd been doing when he appeared. She dipped her cloth into the water and squeezed it out over her shoulders to rinse away the thick lather. She watched him walk towards her, his stiffening penis just about eye level. She was proud that she could still do that to him, pleased that he was watching her watch him.

“See something you like?” he asked with a cocky attitude, placing the margaritas on the sink.

“Oh, yeah,” she blushed coyly, “I see a whole lot I like.”

He reached down and cupped her breast under the water, then raised it above the surface, letting the water run off it. When she responded with a quiet moan, he gently pinched her nipple. Her body trembled as if suddenly chilled and his thick chocolate dick rose and jumped in reply. They both recognized the sound drifting through the doorway as the end of Erica Badu's last song on the CD. “I'll be right back,” he said, standing up and walking toward the door.

“Damn!” she said. Her eyes were glued to his muscular back, firm behind, and strong thighs as he moved out of the room. “He is so fine.” She thought of what possibilities the night held. She couldn't remember the last time they were able to make love without the kids around. Just think how adventurous they could get with the whole house to themselves.

By the time he returned she had rinsed herself off with the shower massage and was stepping out of the tub. “What took
you so long?” she said as Luther Vandross's voice spilled into the room.

“I had to talk to Luther,” he said, “and tell him what kind of sounds we wanted to hear tonight. He said he could handle it.”

They both laughed. Her eyes followed her husband's hand to his dick and she was disappointed that he was now limp. She took it as a challenge—one she was definitely up to. She turned away from him and slowly and deliberately bent over the tub—much further than she needed to. She took her time turning on the faucet to replenish the hot water. Before she could straighten back up, he was behind her, his hands on her waist, pulling her hips onto his awakening penis. He pressed against her a little harder, bending his knees slightly to make sure he could slide along her pussy at just the right angle, but she stood and moved behind him, gently urging him towards the tub.

“Your turn,” she said.

“Aw, Baby,” he pleaded, reaching behind him to grab her. “I just wanna feel it.”

“You will,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Believe me, you will.”

He stepped into the water without caution, then immediately sucked air through his teeth, making a hissing sound. “Damn, Baby,” he said, trying not to let the water swish around his legs. “This shit is hot!”

“Stop cryin' and suck it up,” she laughed, turning off the running water.

“Suck it up?” He looked at her like she was a crazy woman.

“Do unto others…” she said. He smiled back, showing his even white teeth and a glimpse of his thick pink tongue, then eased down into the water.

She pulled a clean washcloth from the towel rack and dunked it between his legs. She leaned behind him, letting her bare breasts brush across his skin, and squeezed water over
his back. She repeated the action several times—until her nipples were hard again and he had become less sensitive to the heat. He leaned back against the tub and closed his eyes. She poured gel on the cloth and washed him gently while she surveyed his body. His skin was a milk-chocolate brown with red undertones. His bald head glistened with perspiration, his lips looked so full and soft, and his shoulders were smooth and strong. His body was a sculpted masterpiece, calling out to her fingertips, her mouth, her pussy.

She couldn't help touching him. She moved the washcloth over his body, making sure he stayed wet and warm all over. She ran it over his stomach and hipbones. His penis responded immediately, but she ignored it, teasing him by omission, and finished washing him down. She leaned forward, having saved his toes for last, and he sat up and kissed her softly up and down her spine. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation run between her legs.

“Ready to get out?” she asked.

He nodded yes, pulled himself to a standing position, and took the cloth from her. She watched as he washed himself in all the spots she couldn't reach, then rinsed the suds from his body with fresh water. When he turned off the spray, she began to lightly pat his body dry with a thick bath towel. He stepped out of the tub so that she could finish what she'd started. She knelt down in front of him to dry his calves and feet. He moved in closer to her. His penis was directly in front of her face, still only semi-erect.

“This simply will not do,” she said. She dropped the towel at his feet and held his penis in her hands. He moaned. She brushed her moist lips against the smooth head of his penis. He moaned a little more. She reached behind her for the perfect margarita he'd made. She took a swallow then parted her lips and drew him into the wet, warm, salty haven of her mouth. He moaned louder this time.

“Mmph, mmph, mmph,” he said from deep in this throat. He placed a hand on the back of her neck to let her know he was pleased. And she loved knowing that she was bringing him pleasure. She pulled his now fully erect dick slowly from her mouth, letting her lips drag over the head before sucking it back in. He flinched and she moved her tongue along his shaft. She knew his knees were getting weak because he grabbed hold of the towel rack to support himself. This excited her even more and she began to take him in and out with faster strokes. She could feel his dick expanding inside her mouth and knew he was nearing a point of no return. She slowly pulled him from between her lips and leaned away from him. She reached again for her drink and brought the glass to his penis and dipped it in. She licked the margarita from his erection, smacking her lips. She looked up and saw that his eyes were wide open. He lifted her up from her knees and drew her close to his warm, naked body, then reached down between her legs.

“Ooh, shit,” he whispered. Her pussy was wet and with each stroke of his finger across her clit she became more excited. “Now it's your turn,” he said. He led her through the darkened house to their bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. He laid her down on her back and spread her legs. Chills ran through her body when he buried his face in her pussy, his thick, full lips kissing her softly, gently, teasing her until she put her hands on the back of his head and pulled him closer. She moaned, her breath coming in quick, heavy gasps.

Then he introduced his tongue to the event. She came almost immediately, her legs trembling, and she involuntarily jerked away. He reached under and cupped her ass in his hands, pressing his tongue even deeper. Overwhelmed, she moved her pussy harder against his tongue. She loved the humming sound he made while he was between her legs. She closed her eyes to better feel his voice vibrating against the lips of her pussy.

She instinctively reached for his dick. He slid his muscular frame upward along her body until they were face to face. She held his penis in her hands and massaged it until a drop of cum ran from the tip. When she felt the moisture, she looked down at what they'd both agreed was the most beautiful dick she'd ever seen. It was the same delicious reddish brown as the rest of his body. She ran her fingers along the large vein that ran the length of his shaft, teasing him to near orgasm. He pushed his dick against her pelvic bone and she flinched at the pressure. She adjusted her body to redirect the head of his penis to the opening of her wet, pulsating pussy. He thanked her in kind by pushing himself into her hot moist center in one gliding motion. She moaned softly at first, then realized they were alone and shouted out his name. He stroked her pussy with an arrogance to which he had every right. He knew that he pleased her. She responded with a confidence of her own, rolling her hips up and around to greet every inch of him. He moaned her name over and over again, low, close to her ear.

“I wanna cum,” she breathed out between his powerful thrusts.

“Then cum for me, Baby,” he said, stroking faster. His voice reached out and sucked her nipples. She wished he'd say it again.

“Cum for me, Baby,” he whispered into her ear. “Please, Baby,” he whispered into her other ear. Had she wished out loud?

“I'm cumming,” she said, her words coming in short, staccato bursts. “Here I cum.”

“Can I cum with you?” he asked as if he needed her permission. She ground her hips harder and faster into his, hoping to cum again. And if he just kept licking the curve of her ear, whispering his sweet love, she knew that she would.

She slowed her pace, then pushed him onto his back. She straddled him, slowly lowering herself down onto his hard dick, pushing him deep inside her, swallowing more and more
of him with every stroke. He began to push up into her as she pushed down into him.

“Are you ready, Baby?” he asked.

“Ready for what?” she asked, just to keep him talking.

“Are you ready for me to cum inside this fine, hot pussy,” he panted.

“Oh, yes,” she said.

“I'm cumming, Baby,” his voice now louder, more intense. “Cum with me, Baby. Cum with me, now. Gimme all you got, Baby. Take all this dick. This is your dick, Baby, all yours.” She felt his dick expand and jerk inside her and her pussy contracted tightly around it. “Oh, shit!” he yelled.

They came together, spasm after spasm, after spasm, after spasm, until she collapsed, trembling and out of breath, onto his chest. They lay quietly for a moment, relishing the silence until their heartbeats gradually returned to a normal pace.

“Do you think we can sell the kids?”

“We love the kids, remember?”

“Oh, right. I guess I'll just have to come home early more often,” he said, smacking her on the ass. They laughed, then fell silent, locked in a warm embrace.

He thought about the time he'd come across her in the laundry room, bent over the hamper, sorting their dirty laundry. Her round firm ass seemed to beckon him. “Come on over here and feel this,” it seemed to say. “Fuck me now. Here.” But she had just gone off on him and the kids for taking their clothes off inside out, making more work for her. He didn't know how she'd react to his fantasy of lifting her onto the vibrating dryer or the washing machine during the spin cycle and fucking her brains out. But this weekend… the vibes were right, the kids were gone. He'd offer to help with the laundry.

She had stood on the back porch some weeks back and watched him mow the backyard. He'd stripped to the waist,
sweat dripping from his forehead, his shoulders, down his back and hairless chest. When the sun had suddenly peeked from behind the expansive shade of the broad lemon tree that stood on the edge of their yard, the light glistened off his sweaty brow, his muscular back and strong arms. He glowed. She swooned. Didn't know whether to run to him and pull him down into the freshly mown grass or fetch him a glass of her world-famous homemade lemonade. But the kids and their friends were skirting the edges of the yard, playing tag. A roll in the grass seemed out of the question. But this weekend…

This weekend the kids were gone and after the recent rains, the grass was even taller then before he'd mowed it several weeks ago. She'd pick twenty or twenty-five lemons in the morning while the grits cooked and have a pitcher of fresh cold lemonade ready when she told him he needed to cut the grass. Once he'd stripped down to the waist, she'd strip down to the waist—and let him do the rest.

“Good night, Baby,” he said, thinking back to the time when they made love against the cool tiles of the shower almost every morning—before the kids came.

“Good night,” she murmured, remembering a long-ago night in the front seat of the car, the backseat of the car, just inside the front door, on the kitchen counter, in the dining room, up against the refrigerator, clothes littering the hallway all the way to the bed.

“See you in the morning,” he whispered.

 

 

 

 

 

The hallway is narrow. I had expected it to be less bare—there are no pictures on the walls, which have all been painted dark reds, slick mahoganies, and purples. I laugh to myself. The colored girls must have had fun checking out swollen pussies when they were painting this. The lights are sunk deep into the ceiling and turned down low so it's lit like a club. A house diva is wailing through the PA system, backed up by an insistent fuck-me-baby, fuck-me-baby tempo. I feel as though I'm in a peepshow.

Brown, bronze, and various sun-kissed women move past me, some with their eyes straight forward, nervous, others whose eyes seem to burn a path before them. I can feel their heat as they pass. There is a steady pulsing below my skin as I move forward, the current stopping and starting and me feeling the blood push-flow push-flow through my neck and fingers, my heart growing, forcing blood into my breasts. I pass the first doorway and hesitate. The door is open but I am suddenly afraid to be caught looking.