Heart Like a Lion

"I've got to admit..." she whispered. "I never thought I'd... feel it this... this perfect with a black guy..."

He smiled, hearing the ragged edge in his voice as he replied: "Yeah, well... I guess I never thought I'd find myself lost like this in the eyes of a skingirl."

The words did something to her; she gasped and he felt her cunt tighten sharply around him, her sugar walls rippling and milking him as she got wetter. "I want..." she started to say, then had to break off in a moan as she ground her hips in a tight circle. She recovered herself, her voice huskier now: "I want you. I want you, Sonny... to be yours... I want to belong to you..."

And it was in that moment that something came clear to Sonny. Something about himself, about what had led him to do what he had done. Something that changed everything.

It hadn't just been his cynical motives as a pornographer, he realized. It hadn't just been the dark corners of his id taking over. It had been her. This girl. The look in her eyes. The brief, impossible connection she'd made with him in the most bizarre of circumstances -- the power of it, the magnetism of her. She was what he had gone back to that Mall for, above all else.

And so he found, to his amazement, that he was saying: "You are mine, Lennie... just like I'm yours. From the first time I saw you." And that he meant it.

"Mmmmm..." Her cunt clutched tightly around him again, her eyes closing tightly and her passion rising, her hot nectar starting to inundate his shaft. "Ahhh... I like... I like the sound of that..." She opened them again, making Sonny marvel -- as he'd always done -- at the special flushed loveliness of a woman taking a cock, an alchemy that made plain women beautiful and beautiful women transcendent. Lennie was transcendent as she gave him a little smile and said: "Just promise me one thing?"

"Name it."

"Promise me... that you'll never tell me I'm part eggplant?"

The completely nonplussed expression on his face made her throw her head back and laugh. That laughter, the simple joy in it -- the strength it had to take for her to still have that after all she'd been through in the course of one strange day -- made admiration bloom in him to match the desire pulsing in his prick. He was gritting his teeth with the restraint of keeping still, of resisting the rising need to pound this beautiful girl to the heights of ecstasy, but he managed to hold on and say: "I promise... all I'll ever tell you is that you've got a heart like a lion."

"Mmmm-hmmmm..." she moaned as her pussy tightened around him like a velvet vise, her voluptuous body shuddering as her hips rocked and wriggled against him. "You do have a way with words, Sonny James. Now," she reared up and bit his lower lip and breathed her demand into his mouth: "Stop talking and fuck me."