Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 (29 page)

Read Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 Online

Authors: Zane

Tags: #Erotica, #General, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #Fiction

Faith was laughing so hard after this that she could barely breathe. That’s when she noticed that she had left her bottle of water in the car. As the third-graders gathered themselves to perform, Faith snuck out of the auditorium to find the water fountains. When she found one she realized how low and undersized they were. But she didn’t care. She kneeled down into a squatting position, pursed her lips, leaned against the plastic “push” bar for extra support, and allowed the icy cold water to flow over her tongue and splash the back of her throat until she was satisfied.

“Ahhhhh,” she said aloud.

“Well, that seemed refreshing,” a deep voice said from behind her.

“Yes, it was,” she said as she spun around and laid her eyes on what had to be the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. He was taller than her, which meant that he had to be at least six feet. She was five foot seven without her heels, so right now they stood eye-to-eye. His head was bald and his eyes were green. He was the sweetest piece of extra-dark chocolate that she ever did see. He smelled of cologne, but right now she couldn’t figure out which one. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a green shirt, and dark green tie. Faith hadn’t realized that she’d been staring at the man until she noticed a confused look on his face.

“What?” she asked him when he just stared back.

“I said, I have some soft drinks in my office if you wanna come and get one. The kids won’t be finished for another hour
and it’s too cold out here for you to be running back and forth to this water fountain. Want one?” he asked for the second time, although this was Faith’s first time hearing it.

“Oh, sure,” she replied, and followed his lead down the hall. “So, what grade do you teach?” Faith decided to start a conversation so that the journey wouldn’t be too awkward.

“All of them. I’m the music teacher, Mr. Hall. Nice to meet you.” He looked at her and smiled.

Faith wanted to melt right there in the middle of the hallway. Who was this man? And why on earth was she just coming in contact with him now?
Damn, I should attend more parent-teacher meetings
, she thought to herself.

When they reached the music room, he held the door open and waited for her to catch up. Once inside, they made their way to his office. He opened a mini fridge and told her to take her pick. Faith did so. Once she had opened the container of grape soda and took a quick gulp, she turned around to find that Mr. Hall had disappeared. She scanned his office and noticed that there were no pictures of him or his wife, just a photo of a little league team. She assumed he had a son who was a member.

Faith didn’t even know if the man was married and here she was fantasizing about him. As she sipped the carbonated syrup, she daydreamed that he would come back into his office, wipe everything off the desk, and put her on top of it. Faith dreamed that he would trace images with his tongue on her neck and between her breasts. She imagined that he would trace her silhouette with his fingertips, from her scalp to her ankles. She rubbed the cool aluminum against her ear and down to her breasts. She had gotten hot; she was blushing from a little fantasy.

Damn, I want him!
Faith thought. She hopped off the music teacher’s desk, where she had placed herself there in all her
imagination. There was a throbbing between her legs now. If he didn’t touch Faith now she would have to touch herself. But she would much prefer that the cause of this problem be the solution.

She walked to the door of the office to see where Mr. Hall had wandered off to. Assuming that he had started back toward the auditorium, she turned out the light and closed the door. She found him at the front of the classroom, sitting in a sleigh that had been decorated by his students.

“I still haven’t decided what else I could do with this thing. It cost too much for me to just throw it in storage until next Christmas,” he said to Faith, who only stared back.

“I know what you could do with it, Mr. Hall.” Faith had a smirk on her face because of the thought in her head and the wetness in her panties.

“Really?” Mr. Hall asked, anticipating her answer.

“Uh-huh.” She placed her soda on the piano and glided the rest of the way to Santa’s sleigh.

Mr. Hall sat and waited for her response, but the look of curiosity that he had on his face turned to pure astonishment as she straddled his lap and leaned in for a kiss. She would know whether she was disrespecting him if he pulled back or pushed her off, but to her surprise, he grabbed her ass and initiated the kiss. He sucked her bottom lip, which tasted of sweet grape soda, and she decided to get the ball rolling. If it didn’t happen tonight, she had a feeling she wouldn’t sleep until it did.

Mr. Hall grabbed a handful of Faith’s hair and ran his fingers through it. That drove her crazy, to feel those big fingers run across her scalp. She undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Her skirt had been pulled up when she climbed into the sleigh. Mr. Hall’s pants were undone and halfway down. She didn’t know
when he had done this and she didn’t bother to ask. He pulled her thong off and dropped it at his feet before he gripped her ass again and entered her slowly.

“Mmmmmm . . .” she moaned as she tilted her head back and held on to the back of his head. She had a feeling this was going to be the ride of her life. To her surprise, he kept a steady motion of slow, long strokes. Instead of speeding up and making him catch her pace, she decided to go with his once she thought about the point of climax.

He grabbed her legs and placed them on his shoulders, allowing himself deeper access and more control. Faith did not oblige. In fact, she leaned in closer and let the pain become her pleasure as she kissed him again to intensify the feeling. Faith opened her eyes, not remembering when she had even closed them, to notice that she still had on her shoes.
Oh, well,
she thought. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling. Mr. Hall stood up with Faith sitting in the palms of his hands and decided to speed up his pace.

This was new to Faith. She had done a lot of things but never had she met a man that could do this. She was in love with the moment. Once her moans got louder, Mr. Hall decided to withdraw and switch positions again. Faith knelt on her knees on the sleigh bench, facing the rear end of the carriage. He entered her wetness again, slow and hard, amusing himself with the moans and the head tilt that he had assumed was to come. Faith bent a slight arch in her back and Mr. Hall found her G-spot, which not many men had accomplished in her twelve years of lovemaking.

Faith, who was thirty now, felt all her fantasies come to life as he gripped the back of her neck and guided her into the doggy-style position.
This is it,
she thought. What would make this
particular climax so special was that neither of them had uttered a single word since they had begun, and neither of them would know when the other would break.

While Mr. Hall was still behind Faith, he reached in front of her, unbuttoned her shirt, and unhooked her bra. While he pulled the shirt off, Faith allowed the bra to fall onto the sleigh bench. Mr. Hall bent forward and kissed the back of Faith’s neck as he rubbed and tweaked her nipples, hoping to make her climax before he did.

Faith could not utter a single word, even if she tried. Her leg began to shake and, as it did, Mr. Hall flipped her over and sat her on the bench facing him. He bent down to his knees and spread her legs as wide as they would go. He buried his face in her soft place and entered two fingers inside Faith so that she could still get the full experience. Faith continued to rub her own breasts and tweak her own nipples while Mr. Hall drank her juices and came to his own climax using his other hand. He felt her vaginal walls contract before she exploded. Faith’s legs were still shaking when Mr. Hall stood up in front of her. She could barely move, until she heard the applause.

“Oh, shit! Jabari!” she said, and jumped up to get her clothes on. Before Mr. Hall could get his pants on straight, Faith had her bra and shirt back on and was bending down to pick up her thong, which had been abandoned at the beginning of this little escapade. She tucked it into her purse, straightened her hair to the best of her ability, kissed Mr. Hall one more time, and exited the music room.

She ran into one of the bathroom stalls on her way down the hall and cleaned herself up with the wipes that she never traveled without. She reapplied her lip gloss as she approached the auditorium. Jabari’s class was assembling on the stage once
she got inside. There were a couple of empty seats now, so Faith found one at the back of the crowd.

The fourth-graders began to sing “Silent Night” and Faith smiled and waved to her baby. He waved his hand quickly, embarrassed that some of the girls in his class would think that he was a momma’s boy. She giggled on the inside because she knew.

Faith’s legs finally stopped shaking. She had no idea how she had managed to wobble all the way back from the music room, and she was just glad that there was a chair available. Faith could hear the kids singing but all she saw were the images in her head of that damned Mr. Hall. That dark chocolate skin, that shiny bald head, and that huge—

“Is this seat taken?” she heard his voice behind her again. He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, he moved around the row of chairs and claimed the seat as his own.

Faith looked straight ahead. For some reason, she was nervous. She was still in a relationship with the father of her child and she had no idea of Mr. Hall’s background. She had never done this before. It was wrong for him to allow her to do it. But it felt so right. Mr. Hall said nothing as he stood up and walked behind the row of chairs. He dropped a piece of paper into Faith’s lap and continued to walk. Faith attempted to open the piece of paper before she noticed it was a letter. She folded it back into the small square it was when it had been given to her and tucked it into her purse.

Once the fourth-graders had finished all of their performance Jabari ran toward his mother and occupied the seat that Mr. Hall had first claimed.

“Baby, you were great!” she said to Jabari. He smiled and looked toward the stage where the final act was about to begin.

“Ma, I don’t wanna watch them. I’m hungry. Can we leave now?” Jabari asked, waiting for a response.

“Sure, baby. Let’s go.” Faith and Jabari exited the auditorium and headed to their car.

“Oh, I gotta use the bathroom.” He ran into one of the restrooms next to the water fountains.

Faith couldn’t wait to read the letter that Mr. Hall had given her so she pulled it out of her purse while Jabari was in the restroom. It read:

Dear Miss,

You never gave me your name. I would enjoy seeing you again, since I see that you enjoyed me. I wanted you when I first laid eyes on you. Jabari was in the second grade, and the first day you came to pick him up, I wanted to say something to you, but I didn’t want you to feel disrespected. I’m glad that you made the first move. You ran out in such a hurry tonight. If you ever think about me again contact me.

Alexander

Mr. Hall’s phone number and e-mail address were written at the bottom of the page. God, if he only knew she probably would never stop thinking about him. She tucked the paper back in her purse and Jabari walked out of the restroom.

“Where’s Daddy?” He looked at his mother.

She didn’t know how to answer that. Hell, she couldn’t answer that.

“He had to stay late for work tonight,” she lied.

“Oh, I hate his job. He’s never home,” Jabari said with a frown.

Faith thought about the music teacher again. “Well, did you have fun tonight?” she asked her son.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Then that’s all that matters,” she said, and kissed him on his forehead.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you my teacher wanted to know if I could join his baseball team this year.”

“Sure. I don’t see why not. That should be fun!” she told him.

“Yes! I’ll tell Mr. Hall in the morning!” he exclaimed.

“Who?” Faith asked to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.

“Mr. Hall, my music teacher. He has a little league baseball team. He’s my favorite teacher! Now you finally get to meet him!” Jabari said with lots of excitement.

Faith smirked and opened the car door for her son to climb inside. She had a feeling that she would be experiencing many more sleigh rides.

Coosawhatchie

Zane

If you’ve ever driven down Interstate 95, to or from Florida, then you’ve passed Coosawhatchie, South Carolina. In fact, you’ve even driven over the Coosawhatchie River. Probably never noticed it, though. When I was a little girl, I used to sit by the banks of the river, watching the cars and trucks speed across the overpass, wishing that I could hitch a ride in just one of them. I never even gave a damn where they were headed. I yearned to escape the small town of 11,407 people residing in 4,164 households, according to the latest United States census.

By now, you must realize that everyone in town has to know each other, definitely by face if not by name. Saying that nothing exciting ever happens in Coosawhatchie is an understatement. In fact, the last “newsworthy” event dates back to the Civil War when General Robert E. Lee utilized our little slice of heaven as his headquarters as he sought to fortify the coastal defenses of South Carolina and Georgia. Yep, since 1862, life has been pretty dismal here. Unless you count the occasional bar fight in the one bar in town, or someone reporting a freshly baked apple pie being stolen off their screened-in porch.

My name is Betsy Smith. Exotic and original name, don’t you think? I’m twenty-eight years old but I feel like I am living the life of an eighty-two-year-old woman. My mother is the town seamstress so I am her junior seamstress by default. There aren’t
many jobs here and my old, rusty ’72 Ford pickup can’t make it far; especially not in the dead heat of summer.

Summer. August to be exact. What I like to call “the long-suffering winds of August.” Nothing but dry heat, a ton of mosquitoes, and the scent from Robert Carlock’s moonshine still lingering in the air. No breeze, no rain, no mercy. Just heat.

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