Zane's Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3 (7 page)

The phone rang. He didn’t bother picking it up. It was usually for his girl and he presumed the rest of the evening would be filled with her idle chatter and irritating laughter.

“Pick up, Jai!” she yelled out to him.

He picked up the receiver.

“Um, Mr. Williams, it’s Kareem Manning. Did you take the two new bats? We can’t find them.”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll have a look.” He checked, but didn’t have them. But it wasn’t unusual for gear to get lost or misplaced when there was so much equipment and two or more teams were playing. Their team didn’t have that kind of money to waste and he knew he’d better backtrack and try to find them.

“No, son, they’re not here.”

“Okay, Mr. Williams. My mom just left for the field to look for them. Thank you. Good night, sir.”

He acknowledged the pleasant child and wondered why his girl’s kids didn’t have manners like that.

He was about to go to bed, but a thought suddenly hit him. It was late and dark and Nyrah was out there searching for two Little League bats that some thug could easily take from her and use to kill her.
Would serve her right for all the lip she’s been giving me for the last two months,
he thought irritably. Then he went to the hall and grabbed his car keys.

“I have to go to the ball field! There’s some equipment missing!” he yelled to his girl as he headed for the door. He sighed heavily when he saw her merely wave him off as she continued her cell phone chat and stared at the muted
Dancing with the Stars.

• • •

The ball field was closer to his house than to Nyrah’s, and she drove up as he was getting out of his car.
What the hell is she wearing?
he thought as he walked toward her.

“Your son called and said you were out here looking for the new bats,” he said.

Now that he was up close, he saw that she wore a knee-length, cotton nightgown with a large sweatsuit jacket over it. It was truly the
un
-sexiest outfit a woman could wear.

“He shouldn’t have done that. I told him I’d come and look;
there was no need to bother you.” Her voice held that surly, aggravated lilt he hated—or thought he did.

“Well, as long as we’re here …” he said, ignoring the way she tried to pull the jacket down over the nearly opaque nightgown.

There was no moon but, under the dim and sporadic park lights, he could see the outline of her face and the harsh slash of her mouth as she pinched it even tighter before walking into the game grounds. Her determined gait indicated she didn’t need any help in locating two wayward baseball bats.

Yeah, well, a big thick dick is exactly what you need between those prissy lips of yours,
he thought meanly.

As she walked in front of him, her opaque gown revealed her thick but strong legs moving toward their destination with irritated purpose and, for some reason, he didn’t exactly hate the way it looked.

They finally reached the dugout, feeling around the corners and against the walls for the bats. Neither had thought to bring a flashlight, although Jai did have one in his car. But his eyes had gotten used to the dark as soon as his night vision kicked in.

From the opposite corner, he watched as she leaned down and looked under the bench.

“Here’s one,” he heard her rasp as she struggled to get it.

“Here, let me,” he said, moving behind her.

“I got it,” she hissed back, sternly.

“Fine!” he shot back.

From his angle, he could see that her arms weren’t long enough, but he didn’t care to be chastised for trying to help again. She bent to one knee and stretched. He watched as her
nightgown inched up her thighs, then her hips, exposing her very
un-sexy, serviceable
-looking underwear.

Suddenly, it was like the world clouded over and he was cocooned in a vacuum of space far away. Even as it was happening, Jai felt as though he was someone else and leaned down and ran his hand over her ample ass cheeks, first one, then the other. He heard her gasp, then bump her head as she tried to get up, but by then his fingers had moved between her cheeks and down to massage the soft, fat crevice through her panties. He felt her shudder and couldn’t believe it when her legs opened an infinitesimal inch. The movement was slight and could almost be missed, but his fingers knew an invitation when they felt one. A tiny moan escaped her as he worked them against her flesh. And then he felt it, the unmistakable movement against his hand as her pussy began to ride against his rubbing fingers. It was a slow motion at first, then it increased until she was moving with such friction he could feel the moist heat through her panties. He maneuvered his forefinger so that it angled in between her covered lips, and then he just let her ride.

She was moaning quietly, with a little hiss thrown in when it really felt good to her. He didn’t dare touch her anywhere else and break the magic of the moment, but he could tell she was reaching her peak from the shudder she gave and the guttural growl that whooshed from her lips like the sound of an alley cat in heat.

She came in a hard rush and everything her underwear didn’t capture slathered over his fingers.

He smiled.
She was a squirter!
His cock hardened and it was a big one.

He removed his wet hand and straightened and watched her get up using the bat as leverage.
What if she brains me with it?
he
thought. But in the dim light, he could see her face was flushed with—exertion? Embarrassment from her massive cum? What did one say at a time like this?
Was it good for you
? Or,
You really needed that, didn’t you?
But then it was something he needed, too—that and more, but never in his wildest dreams did he think it would be with
her.

“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he tried to explain.

“You never struck me as a chubby chaser,” she said.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was low. He didn’t want her misplaced attempt at humor to break the mood.

“I felt your cock against my ass this afternoon and I realized it wasn’t your fault; things like that happen,” she said, looking at him earnestly and then shrugging as though it didn’t matter.

Is she apologizing?
he wondered. Where was the hard, brash
she-bitch
he was used to? That was the person he could handle. Not this woman who didn’t seem so large now, and whose face seemed softer in the darkness. Even her voice, with that Kathleen Turner sultriness, was gentler now.

“It felt good—
you
felt good,” Jai said.

She laughed and her breasts jiggled a little, and to him it seemed so natural and tantalizing. He suddenly felt an urge to clamp his mouth on them, to suck her nipples until she moaned with delight.

“Yeah, that’s what my kids’ dad said right before he left me for someone who was a size four.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself down.”

“I’m not. I was never actually thin, and after two kids, a full-time job, and a shitload of housework to do, going to the gym wasn’t on my immediate priority list.” She switched the bat to her other hand and pulled her sweatshirt closer around her.

“I have to ask you something,” he said, keeping his eyes above nipple level. “Why do you always give me a hard time on the field?”

“Because you suck as a Little League coach.”

“I do not!” he said defensively, then noticed her teasing grin.

“Well, you don’t
actually
suck. I guess it’s because people never expect women to be Little League coaches and well, I suppose my attitude is more of a defense mechanism. Besides, come to think of it, you never actually went out of your way to make me feel welcome.”

She was right; he hadn’t.

There was a long pause as she saw him staring at her. Not her body, but her face; almost like he was seeing something beyond her, something that softened him.

“I’m sorry you had to come out,” she said, clearing her throat.

“Are you sorry
you
came?” The question had a double meaning and he knew she was smart enough to catch it.

“No, I’m not.”

Another long moment passed between them. It was as though everything that
wasn’t
being said was being shouted at them like a chant at a playoff game.

“I better get going. No telling what my boys are tearing up,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Nyrah …” He said her name gently. “Stay a minute.”

“Why?”

“To talk.”

“About what? About you wanting to see me open up and cum again? Is that it?”

There it was—the brash ball field witch again, but it wasn’t really her; he knew that now. It was the mask she hid behind for emotional protection.

“Yes, damn it! That’s exactly what I want. But I want it on my face. I want to eat your pussy right here and right now.”

He had no idea what he was saying, or why, but knew that in spite of all the barbed words they’d had in the past, and all the moments each of them disagreed and glared at each other with guarded apprehension; and although each of them must have known they could never be attracted to the other, here he was craving her like a vampire yearning for human blood.

“Stay because I want you to,” he said.

Nyrah’s breasts heaved as she struggled for something to say, but no words came out.

Jai watched as her expression went from austerity to confused need. He pulled the bat from her hand and let it fall to the ground.

Without a word he laid her gently back on the table that usually held the water keg and Gatorade cups, and pulled her legs up and spread them. Her panties had a wide, wet stain from her earlier release and he liked the way her fleshy pussy strained against the material.

He leaned in, the high muskiness of her sex invaded his nostrils, and like a kid lapping an ice cream cone, he took a long, hard lick over the moist material with the flat of his tongue. Her moan of pleasure made him push his face in and suck. There was something he liked about eating her through her panties and, with his tongue, he traced up and down, like he was sketching. Every few licks he pointed his tongue to stab at her clit button. She was so hot, her flesh soft and pliable in his hands. He heard her hiss and knew she liked what he was doing.

Her panties became too much of a barrier. He wanted flesh—
her
flesh. He wanted to taste her, inside and out. He wanted to
move his nose into her cunt crack and lick her dry. He had to find her clit nub and expose it, tease it with his teeth, until she screamed his name.

Sliding off her panties, he found—to his delight—that she was shaven and it drove him wild. He touched her, spread her, opened and closed her. He pinched her pussy lips together with his thumb and forefinger, then flattened his tongue and licked her, stiffening it and moving it inside.

She was writhing under him but he felt she was holding back, trying to control it. He didn’t want her to. He wanted her to writhe, moan, to open up to him.

He stopped sucking and whispered to her. “Open up to me; let me love it.”

He didn’t know if she would and was giddy with blissful desire when she shifted and reached down to open her pussy lips to him. She spread them wide and, if there was a way he could crawl in and eat his way out, he would have.

The pink maw of her wet hole called to him like only a sweet song could. He wanted to devour her like a madman—but this was not
that
kind of a moment. He pressed forward and pushed his face against her open pussy and tongued her until he felt her tense, losing all control, and let her hot juices cover him.

How he loved that feeling, so creamy, so hot, so wonderfully soft, and her acidic musk that had a hint of fruitiness of mangoes and pineapple—the usual diet food of every weight-conscious maven in the state. He couldn’t get enough and he wanted more of it.

His tongue went wild inside her and he felt her hips move up to give him as much access as he could take. He adored a woman who loved to get eaten out good—and
he
was good at it.

He was still slurping her hard, holding on to her ample thighs and enjoying her yielding abandon as her gritty voice groaned her complete delight and she ground her pussy against his face.

“Turn over for me,” he said, breathing heavily.

She did, raising her full, tawny ass up to him. He squatted down and opened her and tongued her once again, squeezing her ass cheeks in unison with the tongue bath he was giving her.

Nyrah bit her lip to suppress a loud wail of pleasure when she felt his tongue enter her, once, twice, three times; then push so far into her, it felt like a fat, wiggling snake.
He’s tongue-fucking me,
she thought with silent ecstasy.
He’s tonguing my pussy so good.

It had been so long and he was giving it to her as hard as he could, and she loved it.

The tightening of her body alerted him. It was happening again; he could feel it. He loved that about women—all women—that they were capable of coming over and over, and his special talent was that he was able to
make
them do it over and over. He’d made her do it once, and he would again.

She was moaning louder now and he was glad they were in such a remote part of the ballpark.

She was close; he could tell. Then, like a geyser, she let loose her body milk and to his utter amazed delight, he realized she was not only a
squirter,
but a
creamy cummer,
too, as wave after creamy wave oozed out of her like lava from a volcano.

He wanted in. His dick was hard and wanted to be someplace hot. He needed to feel her stout pussy lips close around him, but he wasn’t sure if she was feeling him for that right then, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment by pushing her too far.

But he needed release and he had to do what a man had to do.

He moved away from her, unbuckled his pants, and let them
and his underwear slide down his legs as he took hold of his stiff cock.

Closing his eyes, he began to jack off, losing himself in the imaginings of her big, soft pussy lips, her hot, wet hole, and her sweet cum. He bit his bottom lip as he shut his eyes and dreamed of everything he had been missing.