Neglected Black Housewife

Picturing her naked, I reach down and start stroking my fully aroused cock. I wonder how dark and thick her nipples really are and how aroused she'll get when I suck on them. I imagine myself between her dark brown legs lapping up her pussy juice as she achieves her first multiple orgasm. When I think about fucking her doggy style, slapping against her firm, black ass, I shoot my load across my stomach. I fall asleep dreaming of her licking it off and cleaning up my cock with her tongue.

A week later, near the end of my shift, I'm cashiering when I see Cyn enter the store and look around. She walks over and speaks to Jason, who's manning the customer service desk. He points to me at the cash register, she looks over and our eyes meet. I smile, give my customer his change and log off the register. Walking towards Cyn, I notice she's dressed more casually tonight in a light yellow sleeveless blouse and jeans. The top clings in all the right places, accentuating the fullness of her tits, and the jeans show off her shapely hips in ways that her business skirts couldn't. Her tits bounce lightly as she walks up to me.

"Starbucks?" she asks, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "The latte's are on me."

"Sure!" I say, maybe too enthusiastically. "I'll be done her in about ten minutes," I blurt out, checking my watch, "I'll meet you there." Without answering she turns and walks towards the door. I'm entranced by the seesawing action of her ass cheeks inside her tight fitting jeans. They've ridden up in the crack of her ass and the stretched material displays the perfectly round shape of each cheek as she walks. She doesn't have the back shelf kind of ass like some black women, hers is more of a round bubble and I'm dying to squeeze it.

"I owe you an apology," she says as she stirs her coffee, not looking at me. "I let my own frustrations make me angry and I took it out on you." She looks up at me with those provocative eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No!" I counter. "It's me who owes you an apology. I said some things that were really out of line. I was presumptuous and rude and... and..." I've imagined this conversation all week and now, just being this close to her, I'm tongue-tied. "I'm just so glad you're here and I'm sorry about before."

She laughs. "Okay, we're both sorry. Let's start over." She sips her tall Sumatra and I take a drink of my Caramel Machiatto.

Great! Now, remembering my active listening skills, I say sincerely, "you mentioned your frustrations. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You cut right to the chase, don't you?" she asks, smiling. God I love her smile. "The thing I said before, Mike, about you being young and inexperienced. I really meant that. I'm not comfortable discussing my sex life with you."

Don't argue, I tell myself. "I am young," I concede. Use questions. "What if I was more experienced than you think, would you feel differently then?"

"What do you mean?" She leans forward placing her arms on the table in front of her, clearly interested in my answer. Her arms create a cradle for her tits and I'm trying not to stare at the considerable amount of coffee colored cleavage bulging over the scoop neckline of her blouse.

"Well, what if I'm more knowledgeable and skillful in the art of lovemaking than you might expect for someone my age?" I ask, trying to keep her engaged in this discussion, while stealing glimpses of her sexy tits, jammed tightly against each other and overflowing from the top of her cinnamon colored bra. I lean forward to afford us more privacy and my face is only inches from hers. It takes all my willpower not to drop my eyes down to her exposed cleavage. Her scent is breathtaking and my cock is hardening as I continue to explain.

"During my first year at college I rented a room off campus. My landlady was an attractive 43 year-old woman who invited me to... um, partake in some extra-curricular activities. Let's just say, she became my unofficial tutor and taught me some amazing things about how to satisfy a woman." I'm smiling, but it looks like I've done it again.

"Is that what this is about?" she clamors, pulling back from the table, her tits bouncing as she fumes. "You got the taste of an older woman who needed your attention to make her feel young and now you're out to offer your services to other despondent older women? Well, mister, this is one older woman who doesn't need your mercy fuck!" She's starting to stand up again.

"Mercy fuck?" I sputter, incredulously. "Is that what you think this is? Oh, Cyn, you couldn't be farther from the truth. You are the most ravishing woman I've ever met. You're smart, sexy, funny, and beautiful. I haven't stopped thinking about you. I dream about you. I fantasize about you. Mercy fuck? It would be you showing the mercy, if that's what this is." Oh shit! I think I just blew it again. When will I learn to keep my thoughts to myself?

Surprisingly, she slowly sits back down, staring at me. My admission of how I feel about her is hanging in the air between us.

"Ravishing? Who says ravishing anymore?" she laughs. More quietly, she says, "do you really fantasize about me, Mike?'

"I couldn't wait to see you again, Cyn. I was certain that I never would. You can't imagine how excited I am just sitting here talking with you and how scared I am that I'll blow it again and you'll never come back." I take her hand between my two hands and look her in the eyes. "Yes, I fantasize about you. I fantasize that I'm the one who finally makes you feel what you ought to be feeling." I look down at our hands. The contrast of her caramel colored hand between my two pale looking hands conjures up a vision of our bodies, black and white, entwined in the throes of passion. She pulls her hand back breaking the spell, sits back and looks at me.

"My husband," she begins slowly, "is a very religious man. He's not like one of those hypocritical televangelists that you hear about. His religion is all consuming. He was raised to resist temptation. All temptations. In ten years of marriage I've never seen him falter. He doesn't smoke. He doesn't drink or gamble and he especially resists temptations of the flesh. Even my flesh," she sighs. "He believes that God made sex for procreation not recreation." She pauses, sipping her coffee.

I don't say a word. Even though I don't believe for a minute that any guy, including her husband, is going to be satisfied getting laid twice in ten years of marriage. While Cyn is harboring her frustrations, I lay odds that her husband is ministering to his female congregations' most urgent needs, spiritual and otherwise. Quick learner that I am, I don't voice these thoughts.

We sit quietly for a few minutes, neither of us knowing how to move the conversation forward. I'm especially concerned that anything I say will scare her away. Finally, she leans forward conspiratorially and says, "you really slept with your landlady your first year in college?"

"Yeah, I learned a lot, too," I laugh. I don't tell her how much I'd love to show her what I learned. "You know, at orientation they told us that our education doesn't stop when we walk out of class each day. Boy were they right!" Her deep laughter shakes her whole body and she catches me staring at her tits as they bounce up and down.

"I really should be going." She abruptly stands up, somewhat flustered. "It really is nice talking with you Mike. I'm glad we didn't leave things the way they were."

"I'll walk you to your car," I say, standing with her.

She drives a late model Toyota Camry and as she presses the remote, I ask, "so Cyn, can we have coffee again sometime? Please." I open the door for her and as she moves between the open door and the car she leans forward and kisses me quickly on my lips then slides into her seat.

"I'd like that, Mike," she says, looking up at me as I lean on her car door. "Just don't get your hopes up. I enjoy talking with you but I'm not ready to play out your fantasy. I'm a happily married woman." As she closes her door, we both know that happy is a relative term and her confession about her sexual frustration lingers long after she drives off.

My cock is still hard and I'm not looking forward to another night of jacking off in bed. I call Amber's cell phone.

"Hello," she answers on the second ring.

"Hey," I say, "you still at work?"

"Just leaving," she says. "You?" "I'm wondering what you're doing and if you want to come over for awhile. You know, finish what we started in the stockroom last week," I tell her, hoping she'll help me relieve the tension that's keeping my cock hard.

"I can't. I wish I could, but I have to pack for my trip," she says and I remember she's visiting colleges with her parents for the next few days. After a pause, she asks, "where are you?"

"Just down the street. I went for coffee," I answer.

"Why don't you come by here for a minute," she asks teasingly. "I bet we could do something quickly before I have to go home."

"I'll be right there." We talk for a few more minutes and I'm just hanging up as I turn into the bookstore parking lot.

She's parked in the back in a relatively secluded spot and I pull in next to her. She looks very hot in a light green button up blouse and a tan pleated skirt. As I'm getting out of my car she wraps her arms around my neck and starts kissing me on the lips and pushing her tongue in my mouth. I run my hands up and down her back and squeeze her firm young ass cheeks while she grinds her pussy against my hard cock. I break off the kiss and unbutton her blouse.

"I want to see your tits," I say, unhooking the front fastener of her bra, freeing her firm white mounds. She shakes them back and forth playfully before I lean down and suck one nipple in my mouth and roll the other one between my finger and thumb.

"Mmmm, I'm glad you came by, Mike," she says, running her fingers through my hair. Keeping my mouth and my hand on her teen sized tits, I slide my other hand up the inside of her thigh, under her skirt. I feel moisture on the front of her thong and push the material between her pussy lips, stroking my finger up and down. Amber spreads her legs and pushes back against my finger. I slip two fingers in the side of her thong and they glide easily up inside her eager, young pussy. I finger fuck her and suck on her tits while she leans against my car moaning softly.

"Wait," she says, pushing back from me just as car lights head toward us then turn away into the adjacent shopping center. Her blouse is open, her bra is dangling at her sides, her pink nipples are hard and her face is flush. She smiles at me as she reaches up under her skirt, bends over and strips off her thong. She holds it up to my nose and I take a deep breath.

"You can taste me next time, "she says, pulling her thong away and kissing me. "Right now, I want you to fuck me." She puts her thong in my shirt pocket, turns around, spreads her legs and bends over my trunk. I lift the back of her skirt exposing her perfect, white ass cheeks and her shiny, wet pussy lips. I drop my pants, freeing my raging hard cock and slide it into her in one smooth stroke.

"Oh Fuck! That feels so good! Fuck me, Mike! Fuck me hard!" she says as she stretches her arms out across my trunk, pressing her bare tits against the cold metal of my car, and humps her ass back to meet my strokes. I slam into her, pushing her against the car and slapping my body against her white ass. I close my eyes and it's Cyn I'm fucking, watching my white cock disappear between her thick black pussy lips. She's on all fours on my bed with her ass pushed back to the edge while I stand next to the bed hammering my cock into her pussy. Her chocolate colored tits with their thick black nipples hang down, shaking back and forth with each thrust of my cock.

I feel like I'm going to explode but I hold back, trying a trick I learned from my landlady. She called it the "Rule of Ten". I pull the head of my cock almost all the way out of Cyn's pussy and hold her dark brown hips with my hands so she can't push back against me. I stand there with my cock just barely in her pussy while I count to nine and then slam it deeply into her and hold it there. I pull back again leaving just the head between her thick, wet lips while I count to eight this time before slamming into her twice in quick succession. I continue the sequence counting to seven and pounding three times, then counting to six before taking four hard strokes, etc. The counting keeps me focused on something else while the teasing drives her crazy. When I get down to holding my cock out against her lips for the count of two and slamming into her eight times her pussy is drenched and she's pushing hard against my hands, trying to get my cock deeper into her burning pussy. Finally, with the last count of one, I just keep pounding her sopping wet pussy with my very hard cock.

"Yes! Keep fucking me hard like that! Ohhh Fuck! I'm cumming!" Amber's voice breaks the spell and once again I'm in the bookstore parking lot slamming my cock into the white assed, sexy teenager sprawled across my car. She thrusts back against my cock and I feel her pussy muscles tighten as she rides her first wave of orgasm. I push my cock deep inside of her as I tense my legs, rise up on the balls of my feet and shoot load after load of cum into her tight, young pussy.

I leave my spent cock inside her pulsating pussy while we both catch our breath. Finally, I pull out and Amber stands up, turns around and kisses me passionately on the lips.

"Wow! That was intense!" she says while fastening her bra and buttoning up her blouse. "Someday you'll have to tell me who to thank for the great fuck!" she laughs.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, buckling my belt.

"Look, Mike. I'm young, but not stupid," she says, kissing me on the lips. "The last couple of times we've been together, you've been distracted but your fucking was incredible. Your mind is obviously on someone else while you're fucking me."

"Amber, I..." I start to talk but she puts her fingers to my lips.

"Mike. It's fine. We're not exclusive and I don't mind being a receptacle for your fantasy, especially when I get fucked like this. I'm using you as much as you're using me. Too bad, she doesn't know what she's missing. If you need a letter of recommendation or anything..." she says laughing.

"Amber, you're the best!" I say kissing her and squeezing her ass cheeks, still bare under her skirt.

"Apparently not, but it's okay," she says, pulling her thong out of my pocket and getting in her car without putting it on. "Thanks, Mike. See you next week." A few days later I'm called to the phone at work.

"This is Mike, may I help you?" I say into the phone.

"Yes. This is Cynthia Emry and I'm calling to inquire about the book I ordered." Cyn's voice sounds so formal.

"You're calling from home and can't talk, right?" I answer.

"That's correct."

"Let me guess," I say, "you want to meet after work?" I'm so excited she called that I can barely contain myself.

"Yes, that's why I'm calling," she responds stiffly.

"Starbucks? Buy your own lattes about 9:15?"

"That will be fine. I'll pick it up in a little bit."

"Just so I have the title correct, that's the fantasy book you're looking for this time not the how to book, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct," she sounds like she's stifling a laugh.

"I have it right here. It's titled, Tickling her Fancy Without Batteries." I'm almost laughing now.

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you."

"No. Thank you!" Half an hour later I'm sitting in Starbucks waiting for her, having already ordered for both of us. When she walks in, heads turn. She's that beautiful. She's wearing another sleeveless blouse, beige this time with a scoop neckline, a brown corduroy jacket and her ass hugging jeans.

"What?" she asks as I continue to stare at her after she sits down.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" I ask. "Every person in the place stopped what they were doing when you walked in here." Her face darkens into a blush. The first one I've seen on her.

"Thank you," she says. "That's a nice way to start."

"I'm glad you called," I tell her. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

"I didn't know if you would either," she sighs. "This isn't easy for me."

I wait for her to speak again. She's nervous and appears to be working up to saying something. I sip my latte and wait.

"Mike, you want to help me solve my problems, don't you?" she asks, tentatively.

"Absolutely. At least I'd like to try," I answer honestly.

"I bet you would," she laughs. "What I'm struggling with is, why you? With all the opportunities I've had for something like this, why should it be you?"

"First, because I know why you're doing it," I answer. "Those other guys want to live out their own fantasies; I want to help you achieve yours. Second, with me, you're in control. I don't know your phone number or where you live or if Cynthia Emry is even your real name. You decide when or if we meet and you decide if you want to stop. And finally, we have no connection. I'm not going to cause trouble for you at work. I bet you can't say that about anyone else. This is all about you, Cyn."

"Wow! You're really good!" she says, surprised. "Have you ever considered commissioned sales? I'm recruiting for a few positions."

"I've been thinking about various positions since I met you, but I can honestly say that none of them have to do with sales," I tell her, smiling.

"I'm sure," she says smiling back. "Tell me about your fantasy, Mike."

"Which fantasy is that?" I ask teasingly.

"Your Halle Berry fantasy!" she laughs. "Which fantasy do you think I mean? How many fantasies are you harboring, anyway?" she asks.

"Wow, my fantasy, huh? You sure you want to hear it?" I reach to take her hand, but hesitate. I don't want to scare her. But I needn't have worried because she reaches across to meet mine. We hold hands for a minute before she sits back studying me again.

"Yes, I think I'd really like to hear how you fantasize about me," she says earnestly.

"Okay, it starts slowly with just talking and holding hands," I tell her. "I want us to do this right. It's all about foreplay. Sex isn't just physical, it's mental too."

"Thank you. Dr. Kinsey," she laughs.

"Okay, just the fantasy, not the sex lesson," I say, laughing with her. "After talking and kissing for a while, I'll start the gradual process of undressing you." I look her over, again imagining what she'll look like naked. "It'll be fun," I almost whisper. "I'll undress you very slowly, studying every inch of your body as it's progressively revealed to me."

"You look like you just undressed me in your mind, how did I look?" she smiles.

"Like a goddess. I answer. And that's how I'll treat you. I want to worship at the alter of Cynthia."

"It's Cyn. Please, Mike, don't ever call me Cynthia," she says, clearly upset. "My husband calls me Cynthia. He's the only one who does, so...just don't, okay?"

"Sure, sorry." This woman has more hot buttons than a microwave oven. "Anyway, you'll be completely naked and I'll stay clothed while I slowly explore your entire body. Never having seen you, or..." I'm searching for the right phrase that won't offend her, "any woman of color naked, it'll be a completely new experience for me."

"Woman of color? Oh that's precious!" she laughs again. "Please don't be politically correct with me, Mike. I'm black, just plain black."

"Okay," I say, but there is nothing plain about her. "I've never been with a black woman before and I'm sure I'll be enchanted by your beauty. Now, can I finish my fantasy?" I laugh with her.

"Okay, I won't interrupt you again. Where were you, oh yes, I'm naked and you're enchanted, right," she's smiling, but obviously enjoying herself.