Back Alley Punishment.

Finally, a night out. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything lately that I’ve barely had a minute of fun in months. Not tonight though. Tonight, me and my girls are going to South Beach and we are going to every single club that will let us in for free. And tonight, I’m taking all the shots. No inhibitions.

I’m at my boyfriend’s house getting ready. We spent the day together at the beach which was nice. He’s a great guy, but we don’t get a lot of time together. Our schedules just don’t align. I’m ok with it though. I’ve got my own stuff going on.

Anyway, it’s girl’s night out. I’ve been working with a personal trainer for about a month now who has truly helped me get my body just right. I’ve got a little ways to go still, but so far my stomach is flatter and my ass fatter. Just how I like it. To show off my attributes, I’m wearing a skin tight little black dress. The timeless freakum dress. The LBD (little black dress) never gets old. This dress stops at about mid thigh and accentuates my curves beautifully. It’s also backless, and the deep curve of my back is accentuated even more once I throw on my red stilettos. I’ve got my Erykah Badu head wrap thing going on and of course I don’t go ANYWHERE without color on my lips- a deep red lipstick to match my heels. Now I’m ready.

My friend texts me that she’s on her way. I quickly throw back 4 shots to get my night started - might as well start off already tipsy instead of wasting money at the bar, right? My boyfriend gives me the side eye. Looks me up and down, and tell me to “be good tonight.” “Of course,” I say. It’s our silent way of saying  “don’t you dare act single tonight.”

My girl lays on the horn outside letting me know she’s here. I give my boyfriend a hug and he pulls me in closer for a kiss, letting his hand trail down to my ass. He slaps it, and tells me to have fun but not too much. I tell him not to worry, and that I won’t stay out too late.

Once in the car, I find my other two friends in the backseat throwing back shots of Ciroq and blasting Beyonce’s “Formation.” As soon as my friend speeds off and the cool night air hits my face, I feel the effects of the vodka shots I took 15 minutes prior. Still, I take two more on the way to the club. Why the hell not.

Everything else is somewhat of a blur for the next hour or so. All up until one point when I’m in the middle of the dance floor wining and grinding my body feeling the music, letting it run through me. It’s like I have no control, and I’m having imaginary sex in my head. I can spot at least three dudes eyeing me up and down, probably wishing they were the ones up behind me. One dude in particular catches my attention. He’s eyeing me like he’s never seen a woman dance before. His eyes are fixated on my hips. I think I have him in a trance. Every now and then, he looks me in the eyes, but his gaze always trails back down to my hips and he’s fixated there.

I look around and see all my girls in the corner somewhere twerking on some dudes. I’m drunk, but not drunk enough to do that knowing I have a man at home. But I can’t lie, I was getting turned on by all the couples dancing and grinding and the music that was playing. Chris Brown’s “Fuck You Back to Sleep” was playing now.

My mystery admirer is licking his lips now. Damn he has nice lips. I pretend not to pay him any mind. Except somehow, I find myself standing right in front of him with his back up against the wall. He’s tall. Maybe 6″4. Button up shirt, fitted jeans, and clean dress shoes. He’s got a low cut beard too. Kinda looks like Idris Elba. He’s got bushy but sexy eyebrows. His eyelashes are longer than mine. He’s got this nonchalant look on his face with a snide smirk on his lips. He looks me up and down again and licks his lips. He smiles. His teeth are gorgeous. I’m still dancing. Now Drake’s “Controlla” is playing. Now he’s dancing too. We’re dancing without touching, but the way I’m staring at him and the way his dark eyes are piercing through me is enough to make me feel like I’m cheating. Our hips are moving in sync, like there’s an invisible string attached to both our waists, connecting us. He’s moving closer. And closer. Soon, his hand is on the small of my back, right above where the deep cut back of my dress ends at my ass.

What happened next completely took me by surprise and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

I feel a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me away. It’s my boyfriend! What the hell is he doing here?! I think to myself, but I’m too stunned to say anything out loud. He leads me towards the back door of the club. He’s talking in my ear so I can hear him over the loud music. His teeth are clenched so I know he’s pissed. All I hear him saying is “ I told you to be good” and “Is this what you do every time you go out?” “ That nigga was all up on you!” He’s still leading me with one hand by the neck. “Where are we going?” I ask. He answers me with “Shut up.”

Next thing I know, we’re leaving out through a side door. We’re in some kind of alley now, near where the club’s dumpsters are kept. I tell my boyfriend I’m cold, and I wanna go back inside. He’s not listening to a word. He pushes me up against the cold brick wall of the club with my back to him. He’s got ahold of my arm, twisting it behind my back. I’m so close to the wall that my face is nearly pressed up against it. He presses his body up against mine. He says: You wanna come out and act like a slut huh? You had that dude all over you! Touching you and everything! You liked how he was looking at you didn’t you? huh? Answer me!

No I didn’t!

Yes you did, don’t lie. You wanted him to fuck you didn’t you? You thought he was sexy right? huh? You wanted him to fuck you?

I try to tell him that’s not true but he has one hand over my mouth now. He hikes my dress up and whips his thick, hard, penis out and starts rubbing it up against my clit. I didn’t even know how turned on I was until then. I was slippery wet, pussy throbbing, juicing. Quickly and forcefully, he pulls my panties to the side and shoves himself inside of me. I let out a gasp. It felt like I just exploded into a million little pieces. He lets out a deep primal grunt. He removes his hand from my mouth, but still has a hold of my arm twisted behind my back. It hurts, but I like it. I tell him to fuck me like a wild animal. And he does.

He keeps saying stuff like “You wanted him to fuck you like this? huh? This is what you wanted? He bites my neck. Hard. I scream out and he tells me to shut my fucking mouth and take it. I start coming. hard. My body is shuddering, partly from the cold wall, but mostly because of the way I’m being dominated. I love it. Like a dog marking his property, he’s taking over me, letting any other male know that I belong to him.

He’s fucking me harder now. Faster. His fingers are digging into the back of my neck again. He slaps my ass and tells me to tell him who this pussy belongs to. He bites my neck again and places one hand on my hips to guide his strokes. Slowing down, he says with each stroke: Don’t. Let. Me. Ever. Catch. You. Doing. That. Shit. Again. You hear me? I answer “Yes.” He tells me to say it louder. I shout:

YEEESSSS!

I squeeze my pussy muscles tight around him. He starts shuddering and stuttering, gasping, and grunting. He speeds up and starts fucking me like a wild animal for real. He’s cussing and slapping, and I’m screaming and throwing it back. Until he lets out a deep guttural moan and busts right inside of me. Cream pie. He pulls away and I’m left standing there, legs weak, still leaning up against the wall, this time for stability. With one hand still on the wall, I look down and see his cum running down my leg. I look up at him. He’s buckling his pants. He looks back at me and tells me to pull my dress back down.

“Let’s go. You’re not done being punished. Wait till we get home.”

I See London...

I’m on a business trip. The second one this month. This time, my colleagues and I are in London for an international psychology conference. I’ll be here for four days. My husband and I got into a huge fight before I left. He thinks I travel and work too much. He wants me to stay home and stay pregnant year round. He’s the kind of man that wants to come home and have his wife waiting by the door like a lost puppy dog. He wants dinner on the table every night by 6pm and not a minute later. He wants a household full of runny nosed kids.

Well I don’t.

I’m a career woman. I have goals and responsibilities pertaining to my profession as a psychologist. I don’t have time for the housewife stuff. He should’ve married someone less educated. Someone who wanted to stay home and be taken care of. Because that was not me.

Anyway, I had been in London before. Long time ago. I was 21 years old and had spent a summer abroad interning at a mental health hospital. It was one of the best experiences of my life. While I was there, I had fallen deeply in love with this older guy. His name was Britain. Yup, like his country. He was 40 at the time that I met him. Unhappily married. Or maybe his marriage wasn’t so unhappy. Maybe he just saw a young, naive foreign girl and took advantage of the opportunity for fresh young pussy. You know how these dogs are. Even back then, I knew what turned me on the most. I loved older men. Britain was so beyond sexy to me. He was about 6″5, muscular. Really in great shape. He was bald, and had a goatee/beard that he kept trimmed real nice. He wore tight slacks that perfectly showed off his cock imprint. Shoes were always nice and clean. And he walked with his confident stride that made me wet my panties every time I saw him coming my way. In my early London days, he would pick me up for dinner every week. sometimes lunch several times a week. He’d take me to the best places in town. He took me sight seeing. He’d take me to the nicest and most “posh” hotel in London. One where we could stand out on the balcony post-orgasm and look out at the beautiful city lights. He was the first man to ever make me orgasm. Like a real real orgasm. He was only the third person I had ever slept with at the time but he made me feel. soo. damn. good. Up until now, ten years later, I can still say with confidence that he is the best I’ve ever had. Even better than my husband.

I can’t lie, when I found out my job wanted me to go to London, my heart started beating a mile a minute, I instantly started reminiscing about those days with Britain. We had stayed in contact when I first returned home that summer, but shortly ceased all contact out of the blue. I’d assumed his wife had found our emails.

The morning of my flight, my husband starts bitching at me again about when are we gonna have kids and start a real family and about how I care more about my job than I do our marriage and blah blah blah. I ignore his nagging, give him a quick kiss on the cheek, tell him I’ll see him Friday, and head outside to wait for my uber. Once in the car, I fight the urge to look Britain up on Facebook. I thought to myself He’s 50 years old now. Probably doesn’t even get on social media. Still, I look him up. Britain Richards. There he is. First one. I start browsing through his photos. Damn, he’s gotten even more fine over time. He looks the same really, except his goatee is gray. But in a sexy way. More silver than gray actually. mmmm. I decide to send him a message. Hey. I know it’ been some years, but I’m in London on business for until Friday.. Would be great to meet and catch up. -V. I hit the send button before I can change my mind.

Fast forward 12 hours. My plane has finally landed at London-Heathrow airport. I’m jet lagged and tired as hell. I take a cabby to my hotel. The Ritz Carlton near Buckingham Palace. London is 5 hours ahead of the time back home so it’s about 8 o’clock at night now. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything in the past 12 hours, aside from the nasty TV dinner “meal” they served on the plane.

I kick my shoes off and throw my bag in the corner of my hotel room. Flopping down on the bed, I grab my phone to connect to the wifi. I need to check my emails and get ahold of my colleagues to see if they made it here okay. As soon as I’m connected, I hear a *ding*. Facebook notification. My heart stops when I see a new message notification. It’s Britain. Heart pounding so loud I can hear it, i open it. His message is short and sweet. Hello Love. I would like nothing more than to see you again. Give me a ring when you land. - Britain.

Omg!!!

I know what I’m doing is wrong. But I can’t help myself. I call him. And he answers on the first ring.

Him: Hello darling.

Me: Hi. How are you.

Him: Great now that I’m hearing your sweet voice again love. Can you meet me tonight?

Me: Well I just got in, Kind of tired. And hungry.

Him: That’s fine. Where are you staying? We’ll stay in and order room service.

I give him the address to my hotel and room number. I can’t believe I’m going to see him again after all these years. My pussy gets wet just thinking about the last time I saw him. It was the night before my flight back home. We had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning talking and fucking. But mostly fucking. By the time I made it to my plane that morning I could hardly walk from all of the crippling orgasms he gave me.

I hop in the shower to freshen up. I can’t decide what to put on. I didn’t exactly pack anything really sexy. But then I didn’t exactly plan on being unfaithful to my husband neither. But this was Britain. This was different. I finally settled on a short silk robe I packed. It was black with red roses on it. Underneath, soft pink lace panties. No bra. Forty five minutes later, I hear a soft knock on the door. My heart nearly jumps out though my throat. I check myself in the mirror. Dab on a little lipstick on my soft pouty lips. Toss my dreadlocs to one side. Spritz a little perfume on my neck and wrists. I open the door.

There he is. Britain. The first man to treat my body like a sacred piece of gold. He looked even better in person. His silver goatee against his rich, dark, smooth skin. My God. He looked like a Black god.

I lead him inside my room. He kicks his shoes off. I tell him to make himself comfortable. We both sit on the bed. It’s awkward at first, but after ordering a couple bottles of the hotel’s most expensive whine, we’ve both lost any inhibitions we had prior. We’re laughing and flirting now. It’s like old times. He comments on my locs. I didn’t even have locs when he knew me. He runs his fingers through them. Pulls on one. I smile a shy smile, holding my head down. He takes his hand and places it gently underneath my chin and pulls up, forcing me to look him in the eye. I feel like a timid little school girl all over again. He just has that affect on me. Always has.

He leans in to kiss me. It’s a long, passionate and soft kiss. The kind of kiss that makes your heart flutter. He grabs the back of my head, massaging me while our tongues play with each other. He tastes sweet. Like peppermint candy. Our kiss gets deeper, more passionate now. I squeeze my thighs together tight. I’m wet. I start rubbing my thighs against each other back and forth. He notices and places a firm hand on my right thigh to stop me. Then he glides his big warm hand up my thigh and finds my clit. He starts massaging it. All while we’re still kissing. He rubs two fingers in. And then three. He’s got the perfect rhythm going to make me moan. He won’t let me stop kissing him though so I just end up moaning into him. I’m leaning on him now, my legs shaking uncontrollably. He stops abruptly. I’m upset. I was so close to orgasm! He picks me up and pushes me further up the bed. He crawls toward me. With my robe still on, he starts kissing all over my body. He starts with my toes. He kisses each one delicately. He kisses me feet, my ankles. my legs. A trail of soft, sweet kisses. I feel so hot under his sensual touch. When he reaches my upper thigh, he looks at me as if asking for permission. I’m panting. I nod my head yes. Oh God, please yes. He lifts the hem of my robe and starts licking me from outside my pink lace panties. Oh. My. God. He starts moving his tongue in circles, very softly. He starts in small circles, then works his way to bigger ones. He keeps the circular motion going, applying just a little more pressure each time. Then he starts with long strokes, starting from my opening and licking all the way up to the top of my pussy. When I can’t take anymore, he peels my panties off and throws them on the floor. Now he’s sucking on my clit like it’s candy. He alternates between making circles with his tongue, and sucking. I squeeze my thighs together, and place my hand on top of his head, guiding him, begging him to please let me cum now. He starts humming, creating a sensation of vibrations against my clit, and it feels so. so. good. I grab onto his arm for dear life. Arch my back,and cum all over his face. His face looks like a krispy kreme glazed donut by the end of it. He looks up from his “entree” and winks at me. I’m still panting, still trying to come down from my high. I think he’s going to penetrate now, but he doesn’t. Instead, he unties my robe and gazes at my naked body in awe. He tells me I look even more delicious than before. You pierced your nipples he says. I nod and pull him towards me. I just want him inside of me. Now. But he has other plans. He lowers his head and picks up where he left off. Soft kisses from my stomach up to my neck. He starts sucking on my neck. Biting me now. The combination of pleasure and pain is almost too much to handle. I look at him straight into his eyes and tell him. I want you inside of me. Right now. He pulls his shirt off in one swift motion. I unbuckle his pants. He kicks them off. He lays his naked body on top of mine. Grabs both wrists and places them over my head. We start going to war with our tongues again. I can feel my juices running down my leg and wetting the bed. The tip of his perfect penis slightly rubs against me, making my pussy purr in anticipation. He bites my bottom lip and at the same time grips one of my thighs, bending it towards my body and enters my tight slippery folds. I throw my head back from the sheer shock of how damn good he feels inside me. He lets go of one of my wrists and I place my hand on his ass and squeeze, pushing him deeper into me. I can feel him in my stomach. He’s hitting my g spot with every stroke and I know I’m gonna come again soon. He asks me if I missed him. I say of course. He tells me in his beautiful British accent that he missed my sweet, tight, pussy. He’s fucking me so damn good, and I’m moaning and screaming, and he’s panting and grunting. He grabs my ass with one hand pulls me even closer to him. He starts licking around my nipples, suckling on them while he’s still inside of me. He picks me up and stands up without missing a beat. I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s fucking me while standing. I watch as his biceps flex each time I bounce up and down on his dick. He puts my back up against the wall and starts fucking me like a hungry animal. He’s biting on my neck again, I’m digging my nails into his back, i’m going wild. My locs are tangled up in his hands, in his face, covering us both like a curtain. I’m sweating, he’s sweating. Our body heat making the room feel like a sauna. I look across the room and theres a mirror on the wall. I watch his beautiful muscular back as he thrusts up inside of my walls. His strong legs holding me up like I weigh nothing. His hands gripping both ass cheeks. The sight of us sends me into a frenzy. I come again, this time twice as hard. I’m moaning so loud and am close to tears. He starts saying my name over and over again in a deep strained voice. Vanessa. Vanessa. Vanessaaaa.mmm Shiiittt! He busts inside of me. The mixture of our love juices flow down my leg. He lets me down. I immediately drop down to my knees and begin lapping up whatever cum he has left. I gently lick the head of his penis. I massage his balls, trying to get every last drop. To my surprise, he instantly gets hard again.I’ve never seen a man recuperate that quickly. Ready for round 2 he asks?

Hell Yes.

Soulmate (Part I)

Erykah gathered her belongings as she stared longingly out of the floor to ceiling window. She had just spent the last four hours in the Barnes & Noble two blocks from her condo. She could have easily spent another four hours here. Anything to avoid the emptiness she felt when she was alone at home. Two weeks ago, she would have never guessed this would be her life. Thirty years old and alone.. But two weeks ago, she was happy with the man of her dreams. Or at least she thought he was the man of her dreams. Until one day she woke up, looked over at the man she had just spent four years of her life with, only to realize that he was not “The One.” The sheer shock and devastation she felt when this revelation happened was enough to make her feel sick to her core. She was unsure how this had all happened. Was it that she had fallen out of love with him long ago, but had just ignored the gnawing feeling in her gut? The little voice inside her head that told her that although Kevin was a great guy, he just didn’t ignite her. He didn’t excite her anymore. Their relationship was vanilla. Mediocre. She didn’t want a mediocre life. She wanted to spend the rest of her days with her soulmate. Someone who encouraged her to do better. Be better. Someone she could connect with on a deeper intellectual and spiritual level. A man who spoke to the depths of her soul. A man who listened, looked at her. Paid attention to the small things. A man who never got bored of putting a smile on her face, or surprising her. Kevin was too predictable. They never did anything fun. He didn’t do things to surprise her anymore. In the beginning, he would plan dates for the two of them. A picnic in the park. A night out on the town, dancing the night away. A weekend road trip.  He’d leave flowers or a thoughtful love note letting her know what she meant to him laying around her condo, just because. He used to be romantic and fun. Now, they did the same things day after day. Week after week, month after month, and year after year. Before she knew it, four years had gone by and she could not for the life of her recall the last time Kevin had touched her in a way that made her feel like a woman. She could not remember the last sensual kiss they shared or the last time he did anything spontaneously. They didn’t make passionate love anymore. They had boring married couple sex. Missionary, ten minutes and done. No foreplay No kissing. No candlelight, slow jams playing, nothing. Erykah longed for that passionate love. She longed for excitement. She wanted to feel those butterflies in her stomach again. After all, she was an artist. A free spirit who needed to be stimulated. Mentally and physically.  

So just like that, she ended it. She told Kevin she loved him, but she just wasn’t IN love with him anymore. She broke his heart. He had planned to propose that Christmas. He said he hated her. Called her a selfish bitch. Said he never wanted to see or hear from her agin. He told her her standards were too high. That no man could ever live up to her expectations. That she would forever be alone and unhappy, chasing some romance novel, fantasy dream relationship that did not exist. Maybe Kevin was right. Maybe she was too much of a hopeless romantic. Maybe she would never find her king.

The sales associate at Barnes & Noble came over the loud speaker, announcing that the store was now closed. She was the only one left. With her head down, she shed a single tear. It was the first tear she had shed since ripping apart her world two weeks ago. Quickly wiping it away, she turned  from the window and made her way to the exit. As soon as she walked out, she realized she had left her keys on the table at the coffee shop table she had been sitting at inside of the book store. “Shit!” she mumbled. Turning around to knock on the now locked door, her heart stopped as she was startled by what she saw looking back at her through the glass doors. A man, stood on the other side, with a smirk on his face, her keys in his hands. He opened the door, and said “Forgetting something miss?”

Erykah reached her hand out to grab her keys, not saying a word. How could she? The words that formed in her mind somehow could not make their way to her lips to actually make sound out of her thoughts. She felt this inexplicable warmth over her entire body. Those butterflies she had been longing for. They were back. The man standing before her stared into her caramel eyes with his own dark, almond shaped, piercing eyes. He seemed to be looking into the depths of her soul. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Hi, I’m Jericho.”

To be continued....

3:53 am

Let me taste you.

Hold your manhood with two hands. Stroking up and down slow and steady. Licking the head of your penis ever so gently. Long strokes with my cool tongue.

I want to slurp up and down the shaft like its a red popsicle on a hot day in the middle of July. And then quickly come back up and shove all of you down my throat. Inch by inch.

At the same time, let me cup your balls in my left hand while sucking and stroking with my right. My mouth is warm and soft and the way I’m pleasing you is wet and sloppy, just like you like it. Your moans egg me on and the taste of your pre cum leaves a sweet and salty taste on my tongue. I pick up the pace, forming my own rhythm. You’re squirming now, your shallow breaths excite me. I suck harder, and move my hands faster. Up and down. Up and down. I’m slurping and moaning. Now my pussy is wet. I don’t want you to bust yet. It’s time for me to sit on your face.

Wasting no time, I move to your face and spread my legs. A drop of my sweet honey drips on your tongue. I adjust my body and get comfortable because I know you’re about to devour. With my hands on the headboard, I spread my legs even more, arch my back, and let your magical tongue strokes bring me to ecstacy. It’s the way you gently lick my inner thighs, teasing me before giving me the real prize. Next, your tongue makes its way to my pussy lips, and kisses each one, before finding my clit and sucking on it like candy. One, two, three, orgasms later, I’m panting and damp with sweat. But we’re not finished yet.

The light from the digital clock is the only way I can see in this otherwise pitch black room. It reads 3:53am.

In one swift motion, you slide from underneath me and position yourself behind me. I’m still in the position I was when you were eating me - on my knees, hands resting on the headboard. You use your knee to spread my legs even further. Your strong hand pushes down on my back, forcing me to arch even more. Before I have a moment to catch my breath, your long, thick, manhood is penetrating me deep. At the first second of entrance, my pussy swallows you whole, practically grabbing you, wanting to keep you hostage inside me forever.

Your stroke is strong, steady, passionate, and eager. Eager to reach the depths of me. Your right hand is pressing harder into my back, each passing minute that goes by. I’m moaning, calling your name, telling you how you feel - I want you to know just how damn good you feel. My moans are answered with your grunts and “ahhh’s.” I love hearing you. Your left hand is around my neck now. You’re going so deep and so hard, I can feel your balls slapping up against me. We’re making all kinds of noise but we don’t care. The headboard is banging up against the wall, and we sound like two animals in the deep jungles of Africa, calling out our love for all to hear.

I reach back to squeeze your balls as I’m throwing my ass back, feeling like I can barely go any longer. Then, that warning sensation creeps it’s way into my lower belly. My clit is tingling, you’re telling how good my pussy feels. I’m dripping wet. I squeeze my muscles around your shaft and throw my head back. There’s no use in fighting the feeling any longer. You slap both of my cheeks repeatedly. I love it when you’re rough. I tell you I’m about to cum, and your grunts get louder. You ask me if you can cum too, but my orgasm is already here and I can’t form any words. Almost simultaneously, you let out a loud and guttural “aaahhhhhh.” I’m still throwing it back, making sure I don’t tap out just yet. Finally, you pull out, and bust all of your creamy manhood all over my back, just like I like it. You collapse beside me. We’re both slick with sweat. I’m panting, you’re panting. You rub my ass with one hand. My foot rubs up against your leg.

It’s now 4:23.

I can’t wait to do that again.