Shattering the Myth (24 page)

It was a great orgy, as they all are. Everyone left completely sated and with smiles on their faces the next morning. Patricia and I discussed the highlights of the night before as we cautiously descended the icy mountain road, passing a family of deer walking in single file, tracking footprints through the snow.

Anyway, that was the gist of our January activity. February was just as intriguing. Sorors Lisa and Melanie undertook the task of planning a very special Valentine's Day dance. They paid the owner of a sleazy strip club an exorbitant amount of money, in cash of course, to rent the entire place for one evening. They filled the small place up with men in suits, and we each took turns taking the stage and stripping our asses off. All of us wore masks—the kind with feathers you find in abundance at the Mardi Gras. We wore all sorts of sexy lingerie, but ended up in the raw by the end of our individual performances.

Once each lady finished her performance, she would get the opportunity to choose which man she wanted to sit with at a table. At that point, she had to continue her exhibition by sitting facing the man, with one leg thrown up on the table. This enabled him to get an eagle's-eye view of her pussy. He watched while she fucked herself with the ten-inch dildo placed on each table by the hostesses, along with anal beads, butt plugs, and Ben Wa balls to use later on in the evening.

After the last performance, Soror Three Input, a network analyst, pulled a man onstage and showed us a captivating rendition of ass-fucking. It's her personal favorite. Once her interpretation of the fine art of anal sex was over, we had a free-for-all. I made the man I was with get down on his knees underneath the table and eat my pussy while I sucked my own pussy juices off the dildo, and we proceeded from there. He was a great lover, and sometimes I hate the fact that we can never see these men again. It's such a waste when they have the bomb-ass dick.

Just two nights ago, Patricia and I hosted the March gathering. We decided to go back in time and get a little psychedelic thing going. We convinced this guy to let us use his photography studio for the evening. It was in a huge loft, so we had plenty of space. We told all the sorors to wear some bell-bottoms, platforms, crocheted tank tops, halters, or whatever, along with Afro wigs, and meet us there. We found some cool-ass men for the night, including the photographer. That was part of the deal for letting us use his place. Once everyone got there, we turned on the black-light bulbs and strobe lights and danced, getting butt-naked as we went along. Once everyone was nude and doing the hustle, the bump, and the dog to old-school jams, we passed out tubes of neon body paint in various colors and had everyone paint each other. We even had small paint rollers so the men could roll paint onto our asses and wherever else.

Patricia and I had completely covered the hard wood floor with white sheets so we didn't leave a mess. The way everyone was naked and glowing in the dark was wild, especially when the fucking began. We had the photographer take several rolls of film. This was definitely one for the scrapbooks. It was safe because it was so dark in the place that only the body paints and outlines of bodies were visible. Seeing the mass orgy of neon bodies rolling around on the floor was nothing short of amazing.

Well, that brings us up to date. Next month, Sorors Diane and Cynthia are in charge. I can hardly wait to see what they have in store. I realize all of this must seem crazy to outsiders, but trust me, it's not as preposterous as it sounds. The sorority of Alpha Phi Fuckem has already survived for twenty years, and we will survive for a hundred more. One of the founding members is now a governor. She was keynote speaker at our last year's national convention. We're not just some group of women who have fly-by-night ideas, do something for a little
while, and get tired of it. We're determined to keep this sorority alive. Just as determined as we are with all the other aspects of our lives.

You would never be able to pick us out as we walk down the street, volunteer at community events, bake cookies for the church bake sales, and act as cheerleaders on the sidelines at our kids' Little League games. Most women have an undercover freak in them yearning to get loose. If we can free our bodies, then we can also free our minds. Soror Ride Dick, over and out!

I arrived in Charlotte on a Monday night about 9
P.M
., rented a car at the airport, and got checked into the hotel by ten. I was exhausted. It was a cold and rainy night in December. I forgot to pack an overcoat or umbrella before I left California, so I was soaked and freezing by the time I got in the room. The room they gave me was cozy and had a nice king-size bed. I laughed when the clerk handed me the room key because it had the number 69 on it. That brought all kinds of interesting thoughts into my head.

I had been to Charlotte before on business trips and always had a boring time in the evenings. I didn't know anyone there outside of business, and so most nights, I would just grab a pizza or sub and eat in the room, do a little work on my IBM Thinkpad, and go to bed.

There had been one exception. About six months before this particular trip, I had ventured out and gone to breakfast with a man I met at a business meeting. We had a nice breakfast, and then he showed me around town in his car, kissed me good-bye on the cheek, and that was it.

After I got back home, we talked on the phone quite often. Both of us joked about how the chemistry was there between us, and yet we were both too nervous to act upon it. I told him if I ever ran up on him again, I would fuck his fine ass on sight. He agreed it was definitely a plan of action because he was feenin for me too.

I was so cold and damp when I got in the room. I decided I would just take a warm shower and call him in the morning to discuss the possibilities. Needless to say, that's exactly what I did. I called him the next morning at work, and he was elated to hear from me. We made plans to meet up at my hotel after I had completed my business meetings. We planned to go out to dinner around six in the evening.

When I got to the hotel, he was parked in front of my room and leaning on his car, awaiting my arrival. I was about ten minutes late. I decided to stop by a drugstore and pick up some condoms. There was no way I was gonna let anything disrupt the plans I had to get busy.

We went into my room and chatted maybe ten minutes, if that, and then it was on. I enjoyed being with him because he was very passionate. He kissed me with conviction, and his tongue made me melt. We laid there in each other arms for a good while, just enjoying exploring each other's mouths.

Then, he got up from the bed and turned off the evening news, saying he didn't want any noise distracting our lovemaking. The room was completely silent except for the faint noise of the heat escaping from the vents, an occasional car door slamming, and the distant clatter of someone getting ice from the machine in the courtyard.

He came back to the bed and pulled my black cable-knit sweater up and over my head, removing it. He kissed me again, this time even more sensually than before. I remember
thinking he was the greatest kisser I had ever known. I imagined his tongue tracing patterns on my pussy lips, on my clit, and inside my pussy walls. Having oral sex performed on me is always the highlight of any fuck session for me. I anxiously awaited the point in time when he would quench his thirst with my nectar. I just knew the moment was coming, because that was all he ever talked about during our phone conversations. How much he wanted to taste me. I could tell by the way that he explored my mouth that he would probably be a prime candidate for the Pussy Eaters Hall of Fame.

He lowered my bra straps and sucked on my nipples, getting to know each one of them up close and personal. I pulled his head up so I could kiss him again because it was such a helluva turn-on. I pushed him on his back and straddled myself on top of him, letting my breasts dangle over his mouth. He grabbed both of my breasts, pushed them together a little roughly, and licked all over them at the same time.

I took his tie and shirt off and licked all over his chest, using the tip of my tongue to carve a path from his nipples, down his rippled chest, to his belly button, where I paused to dab my tongue in and out of it. I bit gently on his nipples and rubbed them around between my thumbs and forefingers.

I unfastened his belt buckle and pulled his pants down and off, untying and removing his shoes during the process. I helped him remove his red silk boxers and started sucking on the head of his dick before they even hit the floor. His dick was so good. I enjoyed feasting on it until he climaxed. His hot cum trickled down my throat, lining my stomach with a warm coating.

The moment had finally arrived. I just knew it was my turn to lay back and relax while he got to know me orally. Boy, was I wrong!

He fell asleep, calling the fucking hogs after only a blow
job, and I was pissed. All the anticipation and planning for nothing. I caressed his dick, hoping to arouse him from his slumber, but nothing.

It was only about 7
P.M
. at that point. I realized a hard day's work can be draining, but dayum him. He slept until almost eleven, four fucking hours, and when he woke up, I was sitting at the table over by the window going over some figures on my laptop and drinking some wild-cherry-flavored springwater.

I gawked at him with disbelief when he told me to come back and join him in bed. Then I figured, oh well, maybe he was just tired. Now he was gonna do all the shit he claimed he wanted to do to me on the phone. I went back over and lay down on the bed. I had my bra on, having repositioned the straps so my breasts were covered, and my black pants and panties were still on. He hadn't even touched me down there.

Once again, he started in with the kissing, but this time, I wasn't as receptive. The impression was already embedded in my mind that he wasn't even worth my time or effort. He did the nipple thing again, and I was bored.

Finally, he got to the bottom half of my body and started rubbing my vagina through the material of my pants. He pulled them down and off. I was thinking, About dayum time. He was finally gonna get busy and eat my coochie-coo.

Wrong!
He started finger-fucking me. I wanted to tell him so badly that finger-fucking went out with bell-bottoms, Afros, and platform shoes, but I tolerated it, hoping it was all a means to an end.

Once again, I was wrong, so I decided to get the whole fucked-up situation over with. I got a condom out the box, slapped that shit on him, and rode him real fast until his ass came. He had the audacity to try to stop me, grabbing my hips and saying, “I don't want to cum yet!” I wanted to say, “Fuck
you!” But that would have been dumb, considering I was fucking him—lousy fucking, yet fucking all the same.

I finally got his ass out of there about midnight, after explaining to him why he couldn't spend the night. I had an early meeting in the morning. I was too through and couldn't believe I built his ass up in my mind to be some black Don Juan when he wasn't 'bout shit.

You probably think I just took my ass to sleep depressed or went back to crunching numbers on my computer, huh?
Nope!
My ass was starving, since he and I never made it to dinner, and I hadn't eaten anything except a bagel with cream cheese about 8
A.M
.

I took a shower, got dressed, and went to check out this all-night diner. I had noticed it two exits away in the vicinity of the drugstore where I bought the condoms. What a joke! I should have left them bad boys in the store and had a V-8 instead.

The diner was practically deserted when I arrived at a quarter to one. It was a Tuesday, so most people were home snuggled in for a good night's sleep, making love to their mates, or watching late-night repeats of talk shows like
Jenny Jones
and
Jerry Springer
. If it had been a Friday or Saturday night around the same time, I'm sure the place would have been packed with people that developed the munchies after a night at the movies or dancing and drinking at a club.

There were only a few other people scattered around at the tables—some black guy over in the corner suffering from an obvious case of jungle fever, a couple of teenage boys laughing loudly and trying to see which one of them could be more obnoxious than the other, and a black guy in a booth by the window who appealed to me right away.

Why he appealed to me, I'm not sure. He was attractive, but I see attractive men all day, every day. Maybe I was just still
feeling horny, sexually repressed even. I still couldn't believe that man talked mad shit about how he was gonna turn my ass out and managed to do nothing but turn my ass off.

The guy in the booth was very nicely built and looked very friendly. I sat there sizing his ass up while I waited for some ditzy waitress named Becky to bring my grilled chicken breast sandwich with fries. He was mocha with dark eyes, a sexy mouth, and juicy-ass lips. I imagined drawing the bottom one into my mouth and sucking on it. Next thing you know, I was wondering whether or not he had a big dick.