Man Swappers (25 page)

His eyes pop open. “Oh, shit. Gotdaaaaaaaamn!”

I slowly saunter over to him. Allow my hips to jut out at him with each step. “My name is Pleasure...”

Pleasure
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“
S
o you wanna watch me play in this pussy?” I ask in a low, sweet whisper as I lean back on the desk, lift up my legs and spread open my lips.

Desmond revels in the view, grabbing at his cock and grinning. “Hell yeah.” He squeezes his dick, then strokes it. “Fuck.”

My fingers strum along the folds of my lips, slithering along my slit. My juices start to stir. I allow him to see and hear the swishy sloshing sounds my pussy makes as my fingers get lost in its wetness. My excitement intensifies with the knowing that this fine, mysterious hunk of man gazing at me while I finger myself is a complete stranger. “Mmmmm...ooooh...you like looking at this tight pussy?” I pull it open, offering him a better view. I spread my legs wider. Allow my pussy lips, pouty and full, to poke out a little more. Allow him to see all of me—the core of who I am—ready and wet and hot.

He licks his lips. “Damn, that’s a pretty pussy, baby.”

“Mmmm...and it’s so wet. Pull out your dick. Let me see it.” He fishes it out from out of his sweats. It’s already erect and eager. I moan, pulling in my bottom lip. “Oooh, look at that dick...nice and thick...mmmm...stroke it for me, daddy...”

I watch as he spits in his hand, then slowly glides his hand up and down the length of it. His eyes lock on my glistening pussy. “Is this what you want? You wanna see this dick get hard?”

“Ooooh, yes,” I coo, turning on my Rabbit, then laying it on my clit. “Let me see how big it gets...” I dip the vibrator inside of me. Let its vibrations echo along the walls of my pussy as I watch him lift his hips up from off the sofa and inch his sweats and boxer briefs down over his hips. They are now draped around his ankles as he sits back with his legs gaped over. His perfectly shaped balls look like two chocolate Easter eggs—hanging low, waiting to be scooped up. I swallow back my wanting to roll my tongue around them, my yearning to place them into my drooling mouth. “Ooooh, yeah...stroke that dick... mmm...let me see you play with them beautiful balls...”

I keep my eyes trained on his hand. Count the strokes. Memorize the rhythm. Then play them back in my head, matching his movements with my own; my fingers rapidly dancing over the hood of my excitement. My clit, my cunt, my ass...are on fire. Flames of lust shoot out everywhere.

“Aaaah, fuck...you got my dick hard as hell. I wanna feel that wet pussy around this dick...you got some good pussy, baby.”

“It sure is...it’s real good. Nice and wet...”

“Damn, I wanna fuck...”

He walks up on me. Dick in hand, he dips at the knees. I tell him to step back.

“You can only look, not touch,” I warn, pulling my fingers from off my clit, then sliding them into my mouth. I make love to them with my mouth and tongue, savoring my creamy center. His eyes roam my nakedness, trail over my body, admiring my curves, the rise and fall of my breasts. I let go of my Rabbit, clench it with my muscles to free my hands as I cup my breasts and squeeze them together. I lick my nipples—one at a time. Then dip my hand back between my thighs, pulling out my vibrator, then swirling it around my clit before sliding it back in.
I pull it out again. Let him see the mouth of my pussy open and close.

“Let me taste that pussy, baby...” I remove the vibrator. Slip my fingers in. Dig deep. Moan. Scoop out two fingers of sweetness. Then offer it to him. I watch as he waddles his way toward me. Midway, he stops and kicks his pants and his underwear off, leaving them in middle of the floor. He is up on me, licking his lips. Then leans into me as I reach up and press my fingers to his lips, coating them with my sticky cream, then slipping them into his mouth. His mouth is hot. His tongue wet. I finger-fuck his mouth, slow and deliberate, as he devours my essence. When he is done, I slip my fingers into my own mouth, and lick all over them.

“Damn, you got some good pussy juice...Let me eat that shit.”

“Suck my titties.” My request comes out as a command. Once he heeds, I remind him that he must keep his hands on his cock. I urge him to continue stroking it. I glance down at it. I can see a string of nectar leaking from the slit of its swollen head. “You want me to wrap these pretty lips around your dick and suck it, don’t you?”

He grunts, swirling his tongue around my nipples. “Yeah, baby...” He lightly grazes my nipple with his teeth, then tugs it with his teeth. I flinch. Tell him I don’t like my nipples rough-housed.

“Lips and tongue,” I tell him. “Suckle them; not bite them.”

“My bad,” he says, glancing up at me. “I got carried away. You have me so fuckin’ horny.” He finds a gentle groove with his lips and tongue, teasing my nipples to an aching hardness that forces a moan to escape from the back of my throat.

My fingers, my vibrator, vie for my pussy’s warm, wet snugness.

“Why you fuckin’ with me? I wanna get up in that pussy, ma.”

“You can taste me; that’s it.” I scoot off the desk, leaving small puddles of cunt juice behind as I turn around and spread open my legs, then pull open my ass cheeks. I tell him to eat my pussy from the back. Remind him to not touch; to keep his hand on his dick, stroking it until it releases. Desmond kisses and nibbles all over my ass, before pressing his face in between my cheeks. His nose hits my asshole as he flicks his tongue across the back of my pussy. I push back against his face, slowly shake my hips side-to-side, ass-clapping his face. “Oh, yessssss...eat that pussy...you still stroking that fat dick for me?” He grunts, reaching up to grab my hips. I slap his hands down. “Don’t touch. Eat...”

The store phone starts ringing. I count the number of rings before the call rolls over into voice mail. It rings again. Desmond pulls his tongue out of me, leaving my pussy vacant.

“You wanna get that? It could be important.”

This is important!
Whoever it is will have to call back.
I glance back at him over my shoulder. He has a glazed smirk on his face. “No...put your tongue back in my pussy.” Without further words, he eats me out until my body shakes and I cream on his tongue.

When he is done gulping down my juices, he gets up off his knees, licking his lips. His meaty dick curved to the left. “Damn, girl, your pussy’s right. You so muthafuckin’ fine...fuck all this jerkin’ off shit...Let me hit that pussy...”

He walks over and picks up his underwear and sweats and tosses them up on the sofa. He turns to face me. I’m now sitting up on the edge of desk. My legs spread open. Pussy still ablaze, I beckon him to come closer to me.

I wrap my leg around his waist, draw him in. He gazes into my eyes. I match his lustful stare, reaching out for his hot cock. I stroke it. Then, without words, without permission, he finds my
mouth with his and kisses me. I’m taken by surprise. But I don’t resist. I give into temptation. Give into desire. And allow his tongue to find mine. Before long, his hands are grasping tightly onto my hips, his fingers deep into my ass. I’ve let go of his swollen dick, wrapping my arms around his neck. My fingers get lost in the deep spin of his waves. I’ve gotten caught up in the moment. Have tossed rationale and reasoning out of the window. Dare myself to play Russian roulette. I feel him, this stranger, dark-chocolate flesh, sculpted and molded around layers of muscle, pressing his way into me—his dark brown cock sliding between my thighs; its tip inching its way into paradise.

I close my eyes, toss my head back. Allow the bullet to spin into the chamber. “I wanna feel my dick inside of you.”

Click.

The head of his dick pushes past resistance.

Click
.

I hoist up my hips, arch my back. Give in to reckless abandon.

Click.

More dick slides in, stretching out apprehension.

Click.

“Ohhh, shit...you feel so good...aaah...this pussy’s so wet...”

Click
.

My head starts to spin. My heart leaps in my chest. My body weakens. I am blindfolded, tiptoeing on the edge of a cliff, dancing along the edges of danger. The well in me rises and swells. I’m too caught up now. There’s no turning back.

Click.

He’s all the way inside of me now. “You feel so good,” he pants. “I can get lost in this pussy all day...”

I want to push him off. But I don’t want this feeling to stop. He uses his dick with skill, hitting my spot; just so. “Don’t cum
in me,” I push out, a thread of panic stitching through my voice.

“Aaaaah, shit,” he groans against my ear. “I got you, ma... oooohhh, fuck...muthafuckin’ pussy’s so good.”

“Uhhhh...oh yes, fuck me...”

He lifts me up off my desk and pounds himself in me, deep strokes jabbing away. I lock my arms around his neck and match his thrusts. His dick stabs at my spot. My pussy muscles violently contract. I’m screaming. He’s grunting and groaning.

“Oh, shit’s this pussy’s fiiiiyah...oh fuck...”

A wave of burning heat whips through my wet basin. And, before long, my cunt cries out, spewing hot, boiling juices. I cum, coating his dick and squirting streams of steamy pleasure, knowing that after today nothing will ever be the same.

Porsha
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“
S
o what did you do all day, Miss Works-from-Home?” I ask, taking a chilled glass from the tray, then filling it to the rim. Persia has made a pitcher of mojitos. She lifts the frosty glass to her lips and takes a sip. She waits patiently for me to get situated as I set the glass pitcher back on the tray, then settle into my seat with drink in hand.

“Besides fucking Royce today,” she says matter-of-factly, tucking a leg beneath her. “Not a damn thing. But I don’t wanna talk about that right now. I wanna hear all about this little choo-choo train that you went off and fucked all night long.”

I laugh. “Oh no, Miss Hooch. Not so fast, boo. I wanna hear all about you having that fine-ass young boy all to yourself. You fuck him here?”

She grins. “I sure did. And he fucked me like there was no tomorrow. I’m telling you, Porsha, that young nigga knows how to use that big dick. He has my pussy still humming.”

“Oooh, I’m so mad at you,” I say, feigning a pout. Although the truth is my own pussy still throbs from my encounter with Emerson today. I can still feel him inside of me, pounding away. I swallow back the thoughts of my afternoon romp. There’s a part of me that feels guilty for sneaking off and seeing him. My sisters and I have never kept secrets from each other. And I feel
bad. But then there’s that other part of me that is excited by the idea of getting caught by one of them fucking him. I’m sure, at some point, I’ll tell them all about Emerson and me. But, for now, the Sheraton—for the last three weeks—has become our secret meeting place. And fucking him behind my sisters’ backs has become my newest guilty pleasure.

“So where we really going with this?” Emerson had asked, pulling me into his arms after forty-five minutes of dicking me down into the mattress. My head was on his chest. “At some point, I want more than this...us sneaking around in hotel rooms and shit. I’m gonna want you to be my woman.”

I looked up at him. “I don’t know where this is going, Em. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Right now, I’m living in the moment. You told me you’d let me choose how things moved with us, so you’re going to have to let me figure it all out.”

“I did say that. And I meant it. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, Porsha. But all I want to know is if we’re moving in the same direction. I told you how I feel about you. I’ve laid everything out on the table for you.”

“I know you have,” I acknowledged, playing with the strands of hairs around his nipples. I wet the tip of my finger with spit, then swirl it over his nipple. It hardens. “And I appreciate that. I’m not sure what I want. I do enjoy being with you. And I’m not going to deny the connection I feel to you when were together. But it’s complicated for me.”

He lifted up, resting on his forearms. “It’s only complicated because you want it to be.”

“You know my lifestyle,” I reminded him, referring to my sexual activities.

“Yeah, I do. And I told you that has nothing to do with me. But is it something you can at some point let go of?”

“If I were in a committed relationship, of course I could.” He eyes me, questioningly. “I’m not a cheater, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Neither am I. But that’s not what I was asking.”

“And I answered. Yes, I can. Right now, I’m single. So I fuck who I want.”

“And so you should. It’s your body. I’m not questioning that. I’m asking about you and me.”

“Em, you know how we met—through Persia. I’m not sure if I can allow myself to get emotionally involved with a man who’s fucked my sisters. Sharing a man who I have no emotions to is one thing. And having feelings for one who I
know
I’ve been sharing with my sisters is another. I don’t know if I—”

He leaned in and kissed me, cutting me off. When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless. “I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But, let’s be honest here. I can’t help how we met. And I can’t help that I’ve gotten it in with you and your sisters. That was something the three of you wanted. And I was more than cool with giving it to you. But, at the same time, I can’t help it that I caught feelings for
you
. It wasn’t planned, it happened. So should I be penalized for that? Should you have to walk away from something that could possibly be good for the both of us? I mean, tell me something, Porsha. I need to know if I’m playing myself.” I opened my mouth to speak. He stopped me. “Before you say anything, be honest. Based on what you know about me, am I the kind of man you could see yourself with?”

I thought about it. He didn’t have any children. He’d never been married. He had two sisters and was very close to his mother; his father died when he was twelve. He was a hard-worker. He saved his money and had good credit. He was driven and ambitious. He was thoughtful. And damn good in bed.