Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 (25 page)

Her booty bounced to my frantic thrusts, our bodies melded together with heat and sweat, cock and cunt. I fucked her ferociously, right in front of that lit-up window shade.

But before we both lost control, Monique bounced right off my rod, leaving me hanging and raging—temporarily. “Let’s give ’em the full show, baby!” she rasped, bending forward and reaching back and spreading her thick, black buttocks.

I slapped her hands aside and grasped the twin dark moons, squeezing, kneading the taut flesh. She shimmied her ass in my hands, deliciously rippling her cheeks. She was built back there like up front, no question about it.

I smacked one of her cheeks, then the other, just to watch them gyrate. She whimpered, trembling. I clutched them again,
sinking my fingers in deep, really working the pliable ass meat. Then I tore one hand away and grabbed on to my cock, split the babe’s overblown mounds with my bloated hood. She pushed back, enveloping my knob in her hot cheeks. I played the slick tip of my dick up and down the smooth length of her ass cleavage, rubbing pre-cum and her own juices into her crack.

“Fuck my ass!” she hissed, reaching around again and tearing her butt open for business.

Her pucker blossomed like a night flower, just above my cap, right before my eyes. It was time to hit her ass, hardcore.

I scooped some juice from her pussy, slathered my already spit-slippery cock with it, then her crack. She jerked when I scrubbed her bum cleavage with my fingers, quivered when I hit her asshole with my cockhead.

Her fingertips burned white on her black buttocks, as I plowed my cap into her hole, popping ring, filling chute. She was oven-hot and vise-tight. I drove my dick so deep into her anus that my balls kissed up against her butt cheeks, buried.

“Jesus!” she moaned, rotating her plush bottom against my groin. “That feels sooo fuckin’ nasty!”

It felt damn fine from my end, too, embedded in the woman’s ass. I grasped her narrow waist, gritted my teeth, slowly pumped my hips, fucking her butt, gliding my glistening cock back and forth in her chute.

I surged with wicked heat, the babe’s anus sucking on my cock as I plunged it. I quickly upped the tempo, pumping faster, banging my thighs into her back mounds, making them shudder, churning her chute.

She moaned low and long, pushing back against me in rhythm, splashing her cheeks against my body, consuming my pistoning cock with her ass. I hammered into her hole, my
fingernails biting into the flesh of her waist. Her buttocks rippled nonstop with the brutal impact of my frantic thrusting. I was reaming the woman.

I pulled back, out, the both of us on the brink, almost over the edge. I hit her pussy again, going from her hole to her slit, spearing into the molten heat of the babe up to my nuts.

Monique arched her body upward, against me, flinging her arms back and around my neck, twisting her head around to flail her tongue against my tongue. I grabbed her jumping tits and pumped like a madman. We weren’t long in coming, not after all that had gone on before.

I grunted, and jerked, my flapping balls boiling over. I bit into Monique’s tongue and clamped down on her nipples, blasting inside the babe, spurting to the jolting rhythm of my orgasm. She shivered in my arms and screamed into my mouth, feeling every bit of what I was feeling in white-hot rushes.

Or maybe not.

Returning to my hotel room, I found the door ajar, the closet unlocked, my two sample cases full of pearls, diamonds, and gold jewelry gone. There was a scent of perfume in the air. I looked over at the window across the way—dark.

The shadow dancer had lured me away from my precious inventory so her girlfriend could rob me. Our triple-X tango behind the shade had merely been the signal for timing the heist.

But even the sneak-thief had still made time to leave behind a sticky squirt of her own enthusiasm on the carpet, no doubt after watching Monique’s magnificent performance.

The bitches.

Cynthia Marie

Dasia lay across her bed, exhausted. Another day had come to an end and the twins were sleeping soundly. Whoever said being a stay-at-home mother was easy and anyone who felt differently were truly fucked up in the head. Dasia was looking forward to her weekly outing tomorrow, just to get a break from her boring-ass life.

Once a popular news anchor for WSB-TV in Atlanta, Dasia met Stephen Anderson when he pulled her over for a speeding ticket. Afterward, they were inseparable and after two years of dating, they married at twenty-five. Their life was good until, nine months after their first anniversary, a set of twin boys made their debut. In an attempt to allow Dasia to be what she felt was a good mother, the couple decided it was best for her to quit her job and care for the kids until they were school-age.

Dasia missed the excitement of her life and career. She loved her boys, but neither she nor Stephen was prepared for the drastic change in their lives. No more weekend getaways, spontaneity, alone time, sleeping late, and no more bomb-ass sex. Dasia was self-conscious about her body. Not only were her breasts constantly leaking and her stomach was no longer taut, she was concerned that two seven-pound babies had stretched her pussy out and Stephen wouldn’t be satisfied. She refused to let him see her naked for fear that he wouldn’t see her the same way as
before and it became a sore spot in their marriage. For the past four months, their lives revolved around the babies but neither wanted to address how
they
were feeling.

Dozing off, Dasia stirred when she heard her bedroom door close. Her eyes fluttered and her husband’s body came into full view.

“Hey, bay,” she greeted him, sitting up on her elbows and yawning.

“Hey.” Stephen looked at his wife and saw that, as usual, she wore a pair of his sweats and her hair was wrapped.

“How was your day?” Dasia watched him remove his artillery and undress. Stephen’s hard work had gotten him promoted to the fugitive recovery team and he always shared funny stories.

“Same ole, same ole. Ran up on a lot of folks tonight who missed their court dates. Had to remind them and put them in time out,” he joked.

Dasia laughed.

“We even ran up on some hookers who were too busy working to go to court.” He finished unfastening his bulletproof vest and flung it over the chair.

“Hookers, huh?”

“Yeah. You’d never believe the kind of shit they’d do to avoid going to jail.”

“Did someone do something to you?” She glared at him, wondering if he’d tell her the truth.

He caught the sarcasm in his wife’s voice but didn’t feed into it. He didn’t want to tell her that he was close to letting one of the chicks blow him as her get-out-of-jail-free card. She definitely wouldn’t have understood. Things at home were tense and the couple hadn’t been intimate since the twins were born. Stephen loved his wife but felt like she didn’t have time for him.
Because he loved her, instead of cheating, he worked longer and harder.

“No, babe.” Kicking off his shoes and pulling off his pants, he changed the subject because he knew where it would lead. “How was your day?”

“Besides changing diapers and being a human milk machine, I was able to make dinner for you. It’s in the microwave.”

“I ate earlier. I realize that you’re busy so I didn’t want you to do anything extra just for me.”

“Stephen,” she huffed, “I don’t mind but you could have called.”

Standing in front of her in his boxers, he looked at his wife. “I’m sorry and you’re right. Well, maybe I can make it up to you.”

Dasia looked at his crotch and saw an erection. “Hmm . . . maybe.” She smiled. He still turned her on, and she wanted nothing more than to please her man, but was afraid of what he’d think.

Stephen knew that any chance of making love to his wife was damn near impossible, but he was going to try. With anticipation, he trotted off to the bathroom for a quick shower but his anticipation turned to frustration when he returned. His wife was curled up on her side of the bed, asleep.

•  •  •

The next morning, Dasia was awakened by a faint sound coming from their bathroom. Stephen wasn’t in bed, but a light shone from underneath the door. She heard the noise again so she tiptoed to the door, pressed her ear against it, and heard muffled moans.

“Um . . . uh . . . uh . . . hmmm . . . ahhh . . .”

“What the—” She slowly turned the knob, peeked inside, and saw the outline of her husband, in the shower, jacking off.
Instantly, Dasia was hurt that he had chosen to get himself off instead of having sex with her.

Closing the door, Dasia sat on the bed, pissed. Within moments, the bathroom door opened and Stephen emerged.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, seeing Dasia’s twisted face. He dried off and put on a pair of underwear.

“Were you in the bathroom getting off?” She knew the answer but wanted to hear it from him.

Putting lotion on his body, Stephen answered bluntly, “Yep.”

“Why do that when I’m right here?”

Stephen dressed but gathered his thoughts carefully. “When I wanted some last night, you were asleep. You’re never in the mood. Either you’re too tired or one of the kids is latched to you. Damn, I can’t even feel a titty because you’re slapping my hand away.” He reached toward her and tried to touch one. As he expected, she slapped it away. “My point exactly.”

“Stephen, I just had not one baby but two. What do you expect?”

He turned and looked at her. “Just had them? Dasia, it’s been four months. Hell, one of them is getting teeth.” Before he put the rest of his gear on, he hit her with an unexpected question. “Would you rather me get off at home or with another chick? I’m really trying not to step out on you because I love you, but damn, baby, it’s hard.”

If looks could have killed, Stephen would have been dead. Never in a million years would she have thought her husband would speak to her the way he had.

Before she could answer, a wail came through on the baby monitor. Heading to the nursery, Dasia heard the front door close and Stephen’s car start. Her heart broke. She wondered how her husband could be so heartless.

It took Dasia two hours to get herself and the twins ready before she made it to the United Methodist Church in Dunwoody for her weekly outing.

She headed to Perimeter Mall with a group of other moms, where they window-shopped and talked about their kids. A display at Victoria’s Secret caught her eye. She wanted to buy something, but she didn’t want Stephen to be put off by her newfound appearance, so she passed.

Strolling to the food court, the women sat around at the Baja Bistro eating a variety of Mexican food until one of them became very quiet. “What’s wrong, Stephanie?” Dasia asked. She noticed that she wasn’t as talkative as she had been in the past, nor did she order any food.

“Michael wants a divorce,” she confirmed. The women looked at her in shock. “He’s been sleeping with someone else since I had the baby, and now he wants out.”

Everybody tried to console Stephanie but Dasia thought back to what Stephen said a few hours ago.
Would you rather me get off at home or with another chick? I’m really trying not to step out on you because I love you, but damn, baby, it’s hard.
She couldn’t end up like Stephanie.

When Stephen arrived home that night, Dasia already had the kids down and wanted to talk to her husband.

“Hey, babe,” he acknowledged, looking at his wife in his sweats and a head wrap. What he wouldn’t give for her to get out of those just for one night. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was wrong for saying what I did.”

“The way you said it, yes, but I understand.” She looked at her handsome husband and reached her hand out toward him and through a stifled yawn, said, “I want to make love to you.”

Stephen looked at her. “I’d like to but maybe another time.”

•  •  •

Because of Stephen’s reaction, Dasia’s mind was busy and she was unable to sleep. The next morning, she called her mother because she needed someone to talk to.

“Hey, Ma,” she spoke when her mother answered the phone.

“Hey, sweetheart! How are you? How’re my grandbabies?” Dasia was silent. “Dasia. Honey, you there?”

Instantly, she began to cry. “Mom, I need your help. I think I’m losing Stephen. Things have changed since I had the twins. I . . . I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I’ll be right over.” Her mother hung up the phone and within thirty minutes, she was at her daughter’s door.

Dasia was thankful to see her mother and hugged her closely. “Mom, nobody said it would be this hard trying to take care of kids.”

“Why do you think I only had you?” She laughed. “I wanted to give you everything and couldn’t imagine sharing the love I have for you with someone else.” She wiped her daughter’s tears away.

Dasia spent the next hour telling her mother how she felt about Stephen and how things had changed with them.

“Look, honey, if you love your man, you have to keep him happy. That’s first and foremost. The kids will fall into place. I’m not that far away, and I can always keep the kids; that’s no problem. But the problem is, you’ve let yourself go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you.” Her mother led her to a mirror. “You don’t comb your hair and the sweats you always wear look like they stink.” She looked at her. “What happened to the proud woman I raised? This isn’t you, sweetheart.”

Dasia looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t like what she
saw. She was once known as the sexiest anchor on television and ratings had spiked because of it. Now, she didn’t know who she was.

“Now, get yourself together, do what you have to do, and keep your man.”

Dasia’s mother packed up her grandchildren for an overnight stay and left her daughter alone to get herself together. Dasia knew she was still the woman Stephen craved and she would show him.

Over the next three hours, Dasia pampered herself and picked up a few things from the mall. She knew Stephen would question the cost of her purchases but, in the end, he would be glad she’d bought them.

Driving home, she thought about Stephen and called him. “Hi, babe, I was just thinking about you.”