Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 (20 page)

I forced Jarred out of my mind and began clicking away at the computer. Before I knew it, it was 1:30 p.m., and I hadn’t even taken lunch yet. I sat up in my chair and arched my back to stretch it a little. I slowly contemplated whether I should take lunch or just get through this as quickly as possible. Deciding to get it over with, I remained seated because I knew that if I fucked this up, as close as Erica and I had been, not even she would be able to save my job.

After I finished massaging my temples, I raised my hands again and stretched once more before getting back into my work. But as soon as I put my hand down and fixed my back into the upright position again, I felt a tingle at my center. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried not to think about it. I thought it subsided, but just as I was about to relax and start back working, that tingle turned into a spark and rattled aggressively up my spine.

It shook my entire body as if I were cold. Involuntarily, my legs squeezed tightly together and that was when I realized that it had been almost two months since I’d last had sex. I’d told Jarred that unless he could assure me that he would quit fucking around on me, he would never get another peek at this pussy. I stared at his picture on my desk and
God
—that million-dollar smile of his was making me hot.

Just one look at his picture, and my panties were soaked. I needed a fix right here and right now. I jumped out of my chair so quickly that I almost knocked it over. I ran out of my office and, in record time, I’d made my way to the main lobby. I passed by the security desk, and the two officers who were there smiled at me. I flashed a smile back and hurriedly made my way outside to the parking garage.

I parked on the sixth floor every day because, with no
elevator in the parking garage, it forced me to walk those stairs. As I made my way up the stairs, I was hoping I wouldn’t see Terry, one of the security guards, and thankfully, I didn’t see him this time. I knew how worked up I usually got when I hadn’t had sex, and I could only imagine the disgruntled look on my face.

Like I said, image was everything to me, and because I passed him three times a day—once in the morning when I got to work, once during my lunch hour, and once again on my way home—I didn’t want Terry to see me, or my face, in a bad way. I probably could have scared a pit bull away with the look on my face alone. However, come to think of it, I didn’t even see him this morning when I got to work.

I could tell that Terry liked me. I could see it in his eyes. I don’t know what it was, but I had a thing about eyes. Anyway, Terry never really spoke to me, but he always smiled or winked at me when I passed by. I had to admit he was fine; I loved a tall, dark, and handsome-ass brother. I was faithful to my man, though, so I never paid too much attention to Terry. I was actually glad that I didn’t see him, and maybe that meant I would have a moment alone in my car without interruption, if he wasn’t on duty today.

Half-jogging, then half-walking, I finished my hike up the stairs, as it was part of my exercise regimen. I thought maybe if I jogged up and down the stairs a few times, I would be okay, and this sexual tension would go away. They say exercise helps relieve tension and that is what I was going for.

I looked down and then thought to myself, hmm no . . .
I needed a fix, and I needed it now
.

I could hear Usher sing in my ear, “There goes my baby” as I spotted my car. My black on black Explorer sat in the corner all by her lonesome. No one else parked on this floor and my car
was parked all the way at the end. An idea popped in my head. Maybe I could handle my business real quick, calm my nerves, and then still have my presentation on Erica’s desk by 5:30. I looked at my watch; it was 1:56.

I almost sprinted to the car. I sat in the driver’s seat and reached over to the glove compartment. I always carried three things with me in my car: a duffel bag with a change of clothes and clean underwear in the backseat, and then a razor and a vibrator in my glove compartment.

I carried the razor for protection, just in case I had to stay late at work or if I was ever alone at night. And because Jarred and I were both freaks in the bedroom, I carried a vibrator for long trips. I never knew when I’d want to perform for him. I snatched the vibrator out of its baggie and then took a wet wipe to clean it.

I got out of the car and opened the back door. I climbed in so that I would have plenty of room. I hiked my skirt up, pulled my panties to the side, and inserted the vibrator. “Ahhh.” Now this is what my body needed. Already I began to feel better.

Without even turning it on, I worked it in and out of my opening slowly so that I could work myself up. With my pointer finger on my left hand, I pressed the button once for the lowest vibration setting. In and out, in and out, slowly and methodically, I stroked my own pussy. I pressed the button again for the next level of vibrations.

It hit me harder and sent a moan from my gut upward and out of my mouth. I moved my right hand down to my honey pot and began to rub on my clit. With my eyes closed and the sensations from both the vibrator and my clit being stimulated, I was only a few minutes away from exploding.

I couldn’t help myself as I arched my back, rocked my hips
back and forth, and then thrust myself into the vibrator. Moans began to escape me, and they turned into yelps and then screams of pleasure. My body jerked as I rode this wave, hoping I could get as high as the moon. My heart raced so fast and beat so loud, the pounding sounded like it was knocking on my window. I held the vibrator in place a few more moments to calm myself.

Now, I thought, I should be able to go finish my presentation. Slowly, I opened my eyes and I was startled at what stood in front of me. “Oh, my God, what are you doing?”

I was ashamed and quickly clamped my legs shut to cover myself. Terry, the security guard, was standing by my car door looking inside, staring at me with his mouth wide open. He immediately began to explain himself, “I am so sorry. I know that you always park up here so I came by to make sure your car hadn’t been broken into or anything.”

He put his hands up to show his innocence. “I saw something move inside the car and thought it was weird so I came to check it out. Then I heard muffled sounds like someone was being hurt and I ran to the car. When I got here, I saw you. I swear that I knocked on the window to let you know I was here, but I guess you didn’t hear me and I
am
sorry. You’re beautiful, I couldn’t help myself; I had to watch.”

My legs were shut, but the vibrator was still on and still inside me. I was too ashamed from getting caught to pull it out now, and with the exception of me clamping my legs together, I was frozen still. I looked into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth, and they told me that he was. I was about to say something when the vibrations from the vibrator started to hit my spot and got me started all over again.

Fuck it,
I thought. I motioned for Terry to open the door, and he did just as he was told. As much as I wanted Jarred to be the
one in between my legs, it was time for him to learn a lesson and realize that two could play that game. I spread my legs so Terry could see all of my glory. Using only my pussy muscles, slowly I pushed the vibrator out, inch by inch. The vibrator fell to the seat and then made a thud as it hit the floor of the car.

Not taking my eyes off Terry, I indicated that this was his pussy for the taking. Without having to be told, he immediately stuck his face between my legs. Now this was heaven; it had to be. Jarred’s dick game was on point, but Terry, hmm, his mouth was much better than Jarred’s.

I wriggled beneath him as he sucked, licked, and bit gently on my nether region. I grabbed his head and tried to ram it inside me. I had no idea if he had a woman at home or not, so I tried not to leave any marks on him, but then thought,
fuck it
. These other bitches didn’t care if Jarred had a woman at home or not, so I stuck my nails deep into Terry’s back and bucked him like I was a bull trying to get a cowboy off my back.

Terry was a pro at this shit, though; he was able to roll with the punches. Every time I moved, he was right there with me. He stuck his fingers inside me and I rode them until I couldn’t ride any longer. Finally, I exploded. And like a real man, not afraid of pussy juices, Terry licked and sucked up all of my cum. I shivered and shuddered until I was no longer light-headed. I wanted to see what Terry’s dick game was all about, but I remembered I had to head back into the office to get this presentation done.

This whole time Terry hadn’t said a word, but once he was done, he smiled and said, “Thank you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, said a few words in his walkie-talkie, and then headed back to work. I was proud to see my juices on his face. He looked full and satisfied. I was as well. I got out of the
backseat, grabbed some of my wet wipes, and went back into the building to clean myself up.

I sat at my desk and struggled for a few more minutes, trying to regain my composure. After a few flashes of Terry’s face wet with my pussy juices left my thoughts, I was finally able to focus on my computer screen and when I looked up again, it was 5:19. A click here to save, another click there to print, and ta da, I was done!

I walked proudly into Erica’s office, my whole attitude changed and, for the first time in months, I was smiling. I guess a good lunch break can do that to you. “Here you are, Erica. Everything’s done and I’ll be ready for the meeting in the morning.”

I walked behind her desk, gave her a hug and a sisterly kiss good-bye, and I walked out of her office, proud that I had been able to pull myself together—with Terry’s help, of course. When I got back into my office, it was 5:30 exactly. I turned the lights off, locked my door, and headed toward the elevator.

When I walked past the security station, I asked if Terry was still working. I needed to tell him thank you, but I wasn’t sure if I could let it happen again. Hell, well, maybe just maybe, I could give him one more round. You know, to find out what the dick was like. That would be my “Thank you. Now we are even, and I don’t owe you anything else” good-bye sex.

This particular guard was new, and I didn’t know him as well as the others yet. His name tag told me his name was John. Even if I didn’t know it, I could guess that he was a newbie, because he was the only one that didn’t flirt with every woman in the building.

“Hello, John, do you know if Terry is still working?”

“Well actually, she had an emergency, and had to leave early.
She should be back tomorrow, though. Should I leave her a message?” he answered.

“No, thank you,” I said as I walked off to go home. Well, damn, I thought to myself as I took the long hike up the six flights of stairs, admittedly a little disappointed. I at least wanted to peek at him before I headed home. Oh well, I guess—
Wait a minute . . . she???

Damian Lott

PART I

My day started off the same as usual so I had no reason to foresee anything out of the ordinary coming. I was up and dressed by eight a.m., boiling a pot of hot water, anticipating a dose of my morning java—a cup of Maxwell House with two tablespoons of sugar and a splash of low-fat milk. The sound of the Kenmore stainless steel toaster alerted me that my raisin bagels were toasted.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I noticed a note on top of my morning paper. I recognized the handwriting immediately. It was the gorgeous print of my wife of two years, Sandra. She made it her business to leave the paper on the table every morning before heading off to work. I reached into the chest pocket of my light blue, button-down Polo shirt, extracting my reading glasses. As I placed them on my shaven face over my dark brown eyes, I blushed as I thought about how sexy she always says I look in them. Unfolding the letter, I began to read:

Dear Brendan,

I would like you to meet me at the home of a friend tonight at seven o’clock sharp. I have a great surprise for you. Listed at the bottom are the directions and address to the home. Please don’t
call me trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m not going to answer my phone.

Love, Sandra

I glanced over the address and directions to the home. I sighed loudly and folded the paper, wondering why she had not bothered to bring this up last night, probably knowing that I would have declined. The last thing I wanted to do was have dinner with some colleagues of hers. I could think of a better way to spend a Friday night. Lately, we were having dinner with different people at least three nights a week. It was always the same thing over and over—unseasoned food and conversation about dull current events. Most of the time, I found myself agreeing to things I ordinarily would not.

My wife works for a prominent law firm that specializes in criminal law in the city of Rochester, New York, a mid-sized city in the western part of the state. I hate to brag, but she is one of the best defense attorneys in the city and her main objective is to become partner by any means necessary. So, I often find myself supporting my lady even when I don’t want to.

I buttered my bagel and sipped my hot coffee. I still had about an hour before I was due in the classroom. I teach African-American history at my alma mater, the University of Rochester. I graduated, along with my wife, in the class of 1993. We dated all through college and grad school, deciding to get married after we established our careers, hoping to become successful and begin to raise a family. Your typical American dream, but so far we haven’t had any children.

I finished eating and headed out to my car, a black, 7-series BMW that I had recently purchased. My daily newspaper almost slipped from under my arm as I unlocked the door and noticed
what appeared to be a pair of women’s panties wrapped around the gearshift. I looked around to see if someone was playing a cruel prank on me and the culprit would appear, laughing, but no one appeared except for my neighbor’s dog barking through the white picket fence and wagging his tail briskly.