Zane's Sex Chronicles, page 9
There were other signs as well, omens so to speak, of what I would be like as I got older. I used to wear teddies under jackets to school with no shirt and flash the boys. My sex education teacher made me go to the principal’s office for bringing a small vial of Ryan’s sperm to class as a visual aid for my project on the reproductive system.
I was so desperate to go to a sold-out Prince concert one time that I bet these two guys I could sit on their dicks without making a noise in exchange for a pair of tickets. I couldn’t sit on their dicks without making that dick-slapping-against-the-pussy-walls noise, but I fucked them both big-time and they gave up the tickets anyway.
Yeah, I was a bit out there in high school, but that’s what growing up is all about. My senior year in high school was the year I discovered watching others having sex was just as big, if not bigger, a turn-on as doing the nasty myself. I’m quite the voyeur.
Camcorders were not popular back in the day. When I couldn’t actually witness the act, I would ask my gurls to audiotape their sexual escapades for me so I could cop a listen. My gurls were wild also, but nowhere near as off da hook as me.
Four of us had a female singing group. We called ourselves Rough, Ready, Sexy, and Steady. We used to prance around in my gurl Winnie’s living room after school in lingerie, singing everything from Teena Marie to Vanity 6.
When I got to college, my sexual rebellion really took off. Freshman year, I joined the sweetheart court for one of the fraternities on campus. Once again, another year brought with it yet another revelation. My freshman year, I discovered I like trains, and I don’t mean Amtrak. The only thing better than one good dick is ten good dicks. The more the merrier!
I used to have men wait in my gurl Cherise’s dorm room, down the hall from mine, until it was their turn. One day I had so many men waiting to hit this, some had to wait out in the hall. Hell, I even had my manager from the fast-food restaurant, a married man, up in that bitch. It’s all good, though. Oftentimes, married dick is the best dick of all.
Don’t turn your nose up at me because I fuck other women’s husbands. I never took vows with and promised to love, honor, and respect no damn body. I can tell you this much. I’m the woman your mother warned you about. Don’t let me in your house, because if he’s fine, I will take your man. If I borrow a pair of shoes, your best bet is to make me throw them bad boys out the window of my car at 50 mph, ’cause if you let me in, I’m leaving with more than some 9 West pumps. And don’t let your man have some of that turn-your-ass-out-Alabama-blacksnake-make-a-pussy-scream-out-his-daddy’s-name-dick. Forget about it! I’m going to fuck his ass every day, married or not. Well, at least I’m honest. Most women will just go behind your back and do it. I’m telling you my plans straight up.
Am I a freak? Hell, yeah! Do I care what you think about me? Hell, no! You can kiss my black ass. As long as there’s a breath in my body and I can spread my legs, I’m gonna get some dick.
My favorite mad fucker of all time was Sutton. Sutton was this dude I met at the house party of all mutha-fuckin’ house parties. A friend of mine, Faye, was house-sitting for a wealthy couple in the upper-crust part of town. The house was the bomb. It had eight bedrooms, a circular living room, and a full staff of servants. It also had both indoor and outdoor swimming pools.
There were a good hundred people at the bash Faye threw, the food was slamming, and the bars were stocked with enough liquor to fuck everyone up. I had on a black hoochie dress covering up my black thong bikini. Yes, I did say hoochie dress. Hoochie happens to be my middle name.
Anyway, I was in the basement level, chillin’ with some of the peeps around the indoor pool. The pool had a waterlevel brick bar going along one entire side of it. There was also a sitting area with a leather sectional sofa and bearskin rug in front of a huge fireplace with a roaring fire.
I was sitting on the sofa, tore the hell up, listening to the kicking-ass music coming from the speaker system wired into the walls. Some girl was trying to talk me into letting her eat me out, and to be honest, I was about ready to take a walk on the wild side. I hear a woman can eat pussy just as good, if not better, than a man. Sutton walked up behind us and eavesdropped on our conversation.
He stated his objection. “Ladies, no need for all that. It would be my pleasure to devour both of you!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” I was quick to reply because he was definitely my type of I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck-what-you-think man. “I get to go first, though. Bet?”
The other girl got mad. Apparently, she was strictly about the nana and didn’t want a man doing shit for her. She got up and walked away, cussing under her breath. Didn’t faze me one bit, since that meant more tongue action for me.
After thoroughly checking Sutton out from the top of his slick, bald head to his bulge to his satiny smooth skin, I was ready to get busy. He was about six feet even, built, and F-O-I-N-E. The bald head just did my ass in, though, ’cause that’s my weakness. He was wearing a pair of swimming trunks and nothing else, which suited me just fine.
I was ready for him to dig right in and start eating me like the fabulous and delicious feast I am. Instead, he took me off guard. “Let’s take a swim!” With that, he left me on the sofa, walked away, and jumped into the pool. The way he squeezed his nose and yelled out before he jumped in reminded me of little boys jumping off a wooden pier at a lake.
I decided what the hell. Following a good dick around is a small price to pay for hellified sex. So I seductively got up from the couch and pulled my dress up over my head as I switched toward the pool. My little show was not only for Sutton’s benefit but also for the other men in the room to witness. For a hoochie like me, every move I make is carefully planned out to be sexy, and my entire life is a masquerade.
I continued my little show by sitting on the edge of the pool with my revealing thong bikini on and splashing the water around with my perfectly manicured toes. I used my hand to fling my hair back over my shoulder, and all eyes were on me ’cause I got it like that.
Sutton was over by the pool bar. I got all the way in the pool and swam across it with the grace of a swan. He was ordering a drink from whoever was standing in as bartender at that moment. The guy behind the bar appeared to be drunker than everyone else put together. Sutton ordered a rum and Coke and asked me what I wanted. I told the truth: “I want you!”
Our eyes met, and he started blushing. I turned toward the bar and asked for a frozen strawberry daiquiri. I made sure to ask for an orange slice and cherry, so I could show off my oral skills, and boy, did I. While Sutton was watching, I took the cherry, arched my neck back, and slowly dipped it into my mouth, sticking my long, pink tongue out to meet it. Then I chewed it seductively, just the way I perfected it when I practiced at home on a regular basis. I followed the cherry up with the big finale, the orange slice. I took the orange slice and put it in my mouth, letting the rind fill out the entire outline of my lips, and then sucked on it and whispered, “Yummy!”
It was time for my pitch. “I wonder if anything on you tastes as yummy.” My eyes were locked on his dick like a missile locked on an enemy fighter jet.
He was still blushing. “Well, there’s only one way to find out!”
I kept my head down, but flashed my eyes up at his. “Ummm, do tell!”
Sutton took me by the hand. We carried our drinks along the ledge on the wall of the pool until we got to one of the corners. I pressed my back into the contour of the corner, sat my drink on the tiled floor surrounding the pool, and propped my elbows on the edge of the pool so my breasts would look even more enticing than they already are.
He put his hands around my waist after setting his drink down also. “Now, what’s all this shit you’ve been talking, missy? I bet you’re all talk and no action, just like all the rest.”
I took one of my hands, placed it in the water, and started rubbing his dick through his swimming trunks. “Try me!”
The pool had at least twenty people in it and another dozen or so standing around, who all ended up getting an added treat when Sutton and I turned the house party into a live sex show.
As our kisses began, Sutton picked me up, and I locked my lengthy legs around his waist. He wasted no time untying the skimpy top of my bikini, removing it, and letting it float away on top of the chlorinated water. I leaned my shoulders back as his head moved down to discover the sweetness of my dark, hard pearls. While he was sucking my nipples, I noticed the same girl who had offered to eat me out standing on the other side of the pool, glaring at us. Thank goodness looks can’t kill, or I would be one dead hoochie.
After a few moments of him feeding off my breasts, pouring some of the frozen daiquiri on my nipples and sucking it off, I unwrapped my legs and stood down in the pool. I gave Sutton a peck on the lips and then disappeared underneath the water, pulling his swimming trunks down as I went. He kicked his trunks completely off, and they too ended up floating on the water. I took his dick in my mouth underwater and started sucking on it. When I took it the entire way in and started deep-throating it, the echo of the water intensified his moans.
I stayed down there as long as I could without taking in too much water with my nose and then popped my head back up above the surface. I wasn’t surprised to see everyone was paying avid attention. More people had joined the crowd from upstairs and the pool outside. I could understand the thrill; I love to watch other people getting their freak on myself.
Sutton told me to turn around, so I did, and put my hands on the edge of the pool while he ripped my thong off and threw it on the tile. He started caressing my rotund ass cheeks and pressing his dick up in between them. Then he pulled my ass out toward him some more, knelt down a little in the water so the head of his dick could find my pussy lips, and pushed it up in me.
I reached my right hand up over my shoulder and started rubbing his bald head while he fucked me slowly underneath the water. He picked up a steady pace, reached around, and started pinching my nipples. I loved that shit!
People were saying things like, “Damnnnnnnnn!” “Look at this shit!” and “You go, girl!” Then there were the sexually repressed and threatened women who were urging their men to leave or go to another room so they couldn’t watch. As usual, I didn’t give a fuck about any of them, ’cause I was getting mine.
The sensation of being fucked underwater made me cum within minutes, but Sutton kept working his dick in me until my moans grew so loud, I almost scared myself. About ten or fifteen minutes later, he finally came all over my water-covered ass.
We spent the next few minutes caressing each other all over and asking some of the pertinent questions we should’ve been asking before we fucked, like name, marital status, involvement situation, etc. After getting all that out the way, we realized neither of us had any balls and chains, so it was all good.
Sutton suggested we get out of the pool and go sit by the fire. As we walked over to the seating area, men were giving him high fives and slaps on the back like crazy. Most of the women were staring at me, but my friend Faye, the one giving the party, was laughing her ass off. “Page, you’re just too wild, sis!”
I just looked at her, curled my lips into a smile, and kept on going. Sutton and I sat down on the bearskin rug by the fire, water droplets still covering us both, since we hadn’t bothered to dry off with towels. I started rubbing his dick up and down the shaft, hoping it would get hard again.
After some well-spent effort, it did, and he fucked me again on the rug in front of everybody. He took my ass the second time around. People are a trip. They always talk about the things they would never ever do in a million years, but are gung-ho when it comes to watching it.
Sutton and I dated for a few months, but he was in the military and was sent overseas, so that was the end of it. We had the time of our lives while it lasted, and I miss him terribly. However, life goes on, and so did my sexual escapades. You can’t keep a sexual diva like myself down.
I only have one piece of advice. If you have a good man with a good heart and, most important, a good dick, don’t let other women anywhere near him. One of these days, you might fuck around and let a nymph like me in the front door. Scary thought, huh? I’m only one of many, so you better watch your back!
Wrong Number
“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number!” It started with a wrong number and ended with the fuck of a lifetime. It was about seven o’clock on a Wednesday night, hump day, and I was worn the hell out after a hard day at the office. My live-in boyfriend, Tony, wasn’t home yet. It was his night to play basketball with the boys at the gym. I was sitting there on the couch with my legs up, sipping on a glass of red wine and watching Judge Judy while I was waiting for my chicken breasts and baked potatoes to finish baking.
At the time, Tony and I had been living together for a little over a year, and it was all good. Things were going well between us. The lovemaking was very satisfying. I don’t know why I did what I did, and I’m not trying to make excuses for it. All I can say is, I had fallen into kind of a rut. Let’s face it, shit happens!
When the phone rang, I figured it must have been my mother or one of my girlfriends but had no idea, since the caller ID was in the bedroom. I picked it up and said, “Hello.” The man on the other end of the line said, “Hello, may I please speak to Stacey?” I told him, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number!”
He then asked, “Is this 555-2269?” and I said, “No, this is 555-2268.” So he said, “Sorry, my mistake. Have a good evening!” and I replied, “You, too. Peace!”
Now, you would have thought that would be the end of it, but naw. About a half hour later, Judge Judy had gone off, and Real Life Stories of the Highway Patrol was on, where they show people getting their asses arrested and shit in real life. They have cameras all up in their faces. It’s mad funny to me for a person to not only get caught in the act but cold busted on TV in front of millions of people as well. Anyway, I had just taken the chicken out of the oven and thrown a pouch of boil-in-the-bag rice into a pot on the stove when the phone rang.
I assumed the same thing I did the first time, must be my mother or one of the girls. Wrong again, because he called my ass back. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I ended up flirting with him on the phone for over an hour. He had a deep, mesmerizing, sexy-ass voice, and frankly, the shit turned me on.
Why I told him my name was Amber, I have no idea. Probably because it was the logical response to him telling me his name was Rob. He just made me feel so comfortable and at ease. There I was, kicking it with some stranger on the phone about everything from the latest Puff Daddy and the Family CD to our respective careers to my hair appointment the next day. He and I talked about the fact that there are so few black barbershops and hair salons in our predominately white New England town. I happened to mention that I used a stylist named LaLa at this salon called She Thang over on Twelfth Street.
Even though the conversation was stimulating, I finally told him I had to go because it was getting late. He asked me could he call again sometime, and I said, “Absolutely hell fucking no! My boyfriend would kill me if nuccas started calling the house for me while he’s home!” He said he completely understood and that it was nice meeting me, even if it was only over the phone, and insisted on asking one question before we hung up. I asked what the question was, and he asked me to describe what I looked like.
I told him that I was five-nine, 145 pounds, and light-skinned, with shoulder-length medium brown hair, and half Native American. He told me, “You sound delicious!” He volunteered his information before I could even ask and told me that he was six-one, 190 pounds, and dark-skinned with hazel eyes. I told him what was on my mind and replied, “You sound delicious too!” That was it except for the formal good-byes.
I made love to Tony that night and fell asleep in his arms fantasizing about a nucca named Rob who I knew by voice and description alone. I was so aroused that I couldn’t sleep. I woke Tony up in the middle of the night by sucking on his dick, and it was all good.
The next day at work was a typical Thursday. I’m a human resource manager for a construction company. I left about an hour early, after changing into some casual clothes, so I could get to my 5 P.M. hair appointment on time. I beat the work traffic and got there ten minutes early. Of course, when I got there, LaLa had one client in her chair, one under the hot-ass hair dryer waiting for all that dayum gel to dry up in her finger waves, and another one sitting in the lounge area with a magazine, waiting to get shampooed. I was not fucking surprised, since hair stylists always overbook and shit to ensure they keep clocking dollars whether everyone shows up or not.
I finally got my touch-up in about an hour later. I was sitting in the chair at LaLa’s station, waiting for her to blow-dry me, when the phone rang at the salon. One of the other stylists, this big-ass girl named Shakia, told me that the phone was for me. I was dumbfounded, wondering who in the hell would be calling me at the hairdresser.
I went to the telephone, and it was Rob. I was fucking shocked. He told me that since I said he could never call me at home again because of Tony, he knew calling me at the salon was the only chance he would ever have to speak with me again. He said that he was only about twenty minutes from there, and he couldn’t resist knowing I was going to be coming out looking good with my hair just done and wanted to drive over and meet me.
I was so scared, thinking to myself, “Is this man crazy?” I was hoping his ass wasn’t crazy, but figured what the hell. I might as well take the chance, since I was in public. If I didn’t feel right, I would just leave his ass there.
About thirty minutes later, LaLa was done with my hair, and he had not shown up, so I was contemplating leaving. I was sitting there flipping through some magazines when he came bouncing in the door, plopped down right beside me, and smiled this big ole grin. I couldn’t help but do the same, because the man was too dayum fine.
