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It seemed the longest day of my life. The entire school day was a warm, dreamy blur of unregistered conversations with friends, sternly repeated, “Did you hear the question, Mr. Sandborn?” from teachers, and “Get your head oucha ass and watch where you steppin,” from guys, and some gals, big enough to put a serious hurt on me, as I dream walked from class to class. Only the final bell of the day broke me from my stupor; for it meant that soon I would be going home to her; my new lover, my lovely Darnita, my mother.
I jogged the entire four blocks home to the brownstone apartment house. As I past the basketball court, I heard one of my partners call my name from the other side of the chain link fence,
“Yo, Ray! Let’s take these chumps on. You in?”
I slowed to a jog. “Maybe, later,” I responded, and picked up the pace toward home again. I thought to myself, “Let’s see, get sweaty and funky running up and down a basketball court or make love to the most beautiful woman on Earth all night?” A broad smile stretched across my face as I continued down the sidewalk, rounded the corner, and approached the front steps of our building.
“Cut study hall, today, I see.” a familiar, though not my mother’s, voice called from the stoop. It was Tamia, seated primly at the top of concrete steps. She peered sternly up at me over the rim of a thick pair of plastic-framed glasses. We were the same age, but she’d taken a challenge exam in the tenth grade and was placed a year ahead of our class. Now a senior, she had the privilege of early release from school a full hour before me which gave her an annoyingly smug air of superiority that sometimes burnt my ass.
“And what? No books, either?” she observed, fully expecting my response as if a sphinx awaiting an answer to her riddle before allowing me passage. I could see in her dark brown eyes, which were quite seductive despite being framed by a pair of unusually heavy lobed ears and a row of gleaming gappy teeth, that she reckoned that my early arrival meant, perhaps, the opportunity for a little party before her ‘rents got home.
It’s not that we were boyfriend and girlfriend or anything. “T” and I had been pussy partners since middle school and maintained a comfortable pact of mutual, on demand, coital pleasure with each other. She knew that I wasn’t up for a serious relationship yet and I was keenly aware that she had plans for college and a career after high school. But don’t get me wrong. Tamia wasn’t a mercy fuck in the least. In fact, she was fine as hell with a body as curvy and tight as Serena Williams, if only a foot shorter. With her smarts, and an employee dental plan, she was the kind of sister destined for Ebony Magazine’s “100 Most Influential” special edition one day.
I stood there for what seemed like hours, my head broodingly bowed and staring at her toe rings, glinting in the afternoon sun. “Let’s go inside and chill,” she finally relented. “Mama’s up hanging out with your Mom. I’ve got some Coke’s chilling in the frig’.”
“Shit,” I thought. Tamia’s mother was a serious motor mouth. She could be there for hours jabbering until her husband came home at the end of his shift. While I contemplated the not so unpleasant idea of killing time with her undercover cum freak of a daughter, I suddenly remembered…
“Aw shoot, T,” I shrugged. “Ain’t got no rubbers.” With respect to aspirations, and her mom and dad’s naive assumption that, if they kept their little prodigy from going on the pill she’d devote more time to her studies, we agreed when we first started doin’ it that we’d use protection, without exception.
Tamia sprang up, the momentum causing her breasts to dribble like twin basketballs within the confines of a sheer cotton tee shirt which she had tucked tightly within the waistband of a short, pleated skirt. Since she was seated on the top step, and me standing on the bottom, her supple boobies came to rest just inches from my face.
“And what makes you think you’re going to get some of this?” she teased, planting her hands on her hips and threw her poms-poms out further. She was playing hard-to-fuck, but her nipples, fully erect and jutting out like two chocolate dipped mini-marshmallows, betrayed her. “Come on inside, nasty boy.”
She turned on the stoop and bent over to gather her school books. I gazed at the backs her smoothe, blue-black thighs and round, well formed calves. The pink flesh of her heels peeked from a pair of rope sole platform sandals. I tilted my head up in time to catch the deal closing sight of her wide butt-cakes stretching the pleats of her skirt completely flat in the maneuver.
As I followed her through the front door and up the stairwell, I remembered the gentle ‘echo-chamber’ chiding I received from my mother earlier that day. I felt my dick getting hard, but couldn’t tell if it was from the memory of many twi-night encounters with Tamia on the fourth floor landing or the sublime cock-sucking I’d received from my canlı bahis Mama that morning.
“Oh well,” I mused, “Sweet pussy now, sweeter pussy later. Life, indeed, is sweet.”
Tamia fumbled to unlock the door to her apartment. “Here, hold these,” she said as she shoved her physics text books into my arms. With her hands free, she unlatched the bolt and, after a quick glance up and down the hallway to check for nosey neighbors, we snuck in.
Since the Hill apartment was designed in the same layout as ours, which was directly above, it was always strangely familiar. The biggest difference being the indicators that an adult male lived there; An overstuffed easy chair positioned squarely in front of big screen TV and a couple of tarnished high school football trophies, forlornly relegated to a curio shelf in the far corner of the living room, always reminded me of my life without a father whenever I visited.
“You can set those books on the coffee table, Ray,” Tamia called from the kitchen. I could see the top half of her body over the built-in counter as she went to the refrigerator and drew out a two bottles of pop. Suddenly, she shrank two full inches as she slipped off her clogs and left them in the middle of the floor.
As she reentered the living room, I saw that she had slipped off another article of clothing while in the kitchen; her skirt and panties. As if the most natural thing in the world, she paraded bare-assed past me. The tail of her shirt was just barely covering her jiggling cheeks and wiry curls of her bush.
“Whew, is it ever hot today.” she breathed. “I couldn’t wait to get outa that skirt.” She thrust a cola at me. “Take a break,” she encouraged.
I reach out and took a bottle from her hand. “But I said I ain’t got no jimmies, baby.” I repeated.
She placed the index finger of her freed hand to her lips and then jabbed it up toward the ceiling. “Shush. They’ll hear you,” she admonished, indicating that our mothers listening. “I’ve got that all figured out.”
Thankfully, she took off her glasses and placed them and her Coke on the coffee table next to her books and moved toward me. Never knowing how much time we’d ever have, we were accustomed to working fast. Less foreplay, more nay-nay. She slid her hands underneath my shirt and raked her nails across my chest making me spasm involuntarily. Wrapping her arms around me, she pulled me to her thrusting her hips in a slow, luxurious grind. I reciprocated by sliding my palms down her back and returning her gyrations. We began to kiss deeply, hungrily swapping tongue and lips and saliva. She squatted slightly and parted her thighs to accentuate the contact between our grinding pubes as I groped and kneaded her supple booty.
Gently, I explored the tight opening of her pucker hole with the tip of my pinky finger. This was something that I had discovered drove her wild. She cooed softly as she slathered her tongue on my neck, which she had learned was just the thing to get me going.
“Now look at you, going and getting me all hot.” she moaned after a while. “I guess I’ll have to give you some, after all.”
She turned facing the lounger and leaned over the back rest making her shirt tail rose higher on her legs and hips. She wiggled her ass enticing me to take her from behind. With no further invitation needed, I dropped my over sized jeans down to my ankles and kicked them off over my Jordans. I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor and began stroking my now fully erect slab of meat for her to see. All the while, Tamia was peering over her shoulder, smiling approvingly as I moved it in for a generous helping of the chocolate éclair nestled atop of her thunderous thighs.
I had managed to hold the soda bottle between my fingers as I disrobed and had an idea. Warming to room temperature, drops of condensation had covered the container. I held it over her magnificently curved derriere and allowed a few chilled drops to fall.
“Oooooh, I like that!” she squealed as the liquid rolled to the small of her back. Her ass began to buck and quiver like Jell-O.
Further encouraged, I placed the entire chilled bottle against her booty and began to rub it up and down between the crack of her ass and the cleft of her cherry-red pussy. Droplets of water beaded on the nappy hairs concealing her ebony prize making them glisten like licorice cotton candy. She started to lose control as she hugged the chair back and energetically humped air. Knowing that she got off with the slightest stimulation, I could tell that she was cumming. She rolled her hips and groaned as I continued my improvised icy dildoing, while at the same time, slowly inching the head of my dick toward her moist and waiting pussy. My cockhead parted her lips and I began to push. With ease, it popped through the folds of her cunt door and entered the ante-chamber of her Nubian temple.
And then, I paused. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I thought. “No rubber. bahis siteleri What was I thinking? What was she thinking?” God, I was already three inches in. It felt great, but I had to stop. I caressed her back to distract her. She moaned and bobbed her head, urging me to go deeper. I took a, hopefully, imperceptible step back, reluctantly extracting my self from her yet to be utilized, at least, far as was concerned, birth canal.
“But, Tamia…” I said, surprised to hear my voice crack in a punk-like whine.
Without even looking around, she spoke to me in an equally unfamiliar tone. One that, if in any other circumstance, with any other gal, I’d have been totally pissed.
“But my ass, Raymond Thaddeus Washburn,” she hissed, “If you pull your dick out of me one more inch, you’ll never get it in again. Now quit bitchin’ and fuck me!”
Oh, no she didn’t. “Moi?” “bitchin’?” My middle name? Dag, I hated it when even my mother called me by my middle name! Well, rubber or no rubber, college or no college, exception or no exception, it was on now. I slipped my fingers into the bend in her waist for leverage and propelled my hips forward. In one stroke, I plunged the full length of my prong deep into her poon. Tamia was all but expecting my rear assault and countered my thrust by slamming her meaty booty back. She knew me well. Her instigation was all the green light I needed to try and tear her pussy up.
For the first time, I felt the silky warmth of her bare, slippery chute without the sensory deadening sheath of a condom, and I loved it.
“Oh shit, T!,” I gushed. “So sweet, so mother fuckin’ sweet, baby!” We just held our selves there for just a moment, savoring the first, unpartitioned meeting of our sex organs as if we’d just surrendered our virginity to each other which, in a way, we had. Tamia was silent. Her eyes closed and her head thrown back in a deeply contented moment of Zen. Her legs quivered uncontrollably as a second enviable erotic spasm cascaded through her ebony frame.
I dove deeply and bathed in her juices, soaking the pores of my moisture deprived dick in her cream pool. I could feel her still pulsating pussy clenching and releasing my shaft. We rolled our lower torsos rhythmically together, building up speed and intensity. She pushed herself away from the chair and planted her palms on her knees for support and screwed her rump into my hips. As I continued to increase my strokes, her pussy juices spread along the length of my dick leaving a frothy coating of coochie goo.
“That’s it, babeee,” she growled. “Give that big dick to me, uuuunnnngghh!”
Her tits swung wildly beneath her in time to our fucking. I removed my hands from her waist and floated them outward, pumping and rolling my hips to full effect, leaving our love muscles as our sole connection. The feeling was marvelous. The scent of our sex and sweat filled the room, over powering the potpourri on the counter, the flowers on the dining room table, over powering our senses.
My balls, drenched in sweat and pussy began to swell and tighten and boil. My dick was so fully engorged with blood that my head was beginning to spin. I knew that soon I’d be jetting a serious cum-wad in her that normally bloated our customary Trojan like a water balloon. Tamia still didn’t seem to care that my potentially baby-making sperm would soon launch a bonsai raid on the next unsuspecting egg to descend from her womb. Common sense, or to be honest, trepidation took hold of me again. I, we, couldn’t risk pregnancy, no matter how good this was getting. I couldn’t believe Tamia was going this far. Didn’t she understand I was too young to be a father, that she, with all her hopes and dreams, a mother, and worse, that Darnita, my mother, way too young to become a grandmother?
So what was I going to do? The pussy was good, damn good, but I had to do something. Maybe, I thought, I could pull out at the right moment and hose down her back? Naw, too porno. Shit. Pull out? Withdraw? Damn, blue balls! What the fuck, T? Shit!
And then, without warning, Tamia dropped to her knees to the carpeted floor causing my prong to pop out of her twat and slap with a moist thud against my belly. Apparently, she could sense my anxiety through our bodies and was let us all off the ‘baby-daddy-mama-granny’ hook.
“What the hell,” I sighed silently. No nutty buddy for me this go round. But, at least I had someone waiting upstairs, that is, if all our bouncing around wasn’t heard through the ceiling.
Tamia groped for her now pitifully wrinkled shirt which lay in a heap near the coffee table. Grasping it, she rolled a corner into a ball and crammed it between her lips, still swaying her mountainous boo-boo high in the air. She snaked a hand between her legs. Dipping her finger tips into her poony, she coated them with a glob of her sticky flow.
“Mrrr”, she mumbled.
“What, baby?” I asked.
She used her tongue to part her improvised gag just bahis şirketleri enough to make herself understood.
“More. I want more,” she repeated.
“Aw, come on Tamia…” I begged.
“Oh god damn, Ray, you big baby,” she cut me off. “Didn’t I tell you I had this hooked up? Just roll with this, Okay?”
Tamia slathered her juices generously over her vulnerably positioned booty. I watch in amazement as a lubricated index finger prodded her pucker and, after a few thrusts, slipped inside. As the remaining syrup of her sex oozed from her palm into the now dilated pupil of her third eye, allowing the insertion of her middle finger, I finally got the message. Tamia wanted me to fuck her in the ass.
Now that shut me up. All was revealed. No rubber. No problem. This was a once, well first, in a lifetime moment. Literally, a piece of ass; and what an ass! I couldn’t believe it, two of the big three Afrocentric sexual taboos; incest and anal sex, all in the same day!
I squatted over her, my spear at the ready. Having come across dozens of images after web searching ‘ass fuck sex’ on my PC, I was eager to find out what put that shit-eating grin on those guys faces while they energetically packed accommodating female model’s tanned derrieres. I placed my palms on her cheeks and splayed them wide. Tamia sunk down a bit to accommodate the added weight of my body. Tentatively, I place the tip of my rod at the tight opening and pushed. To my surprise, the conical shape was perfect for parting her sphincter and made it easy to break ground into her forbidden zone.
Tamia lay still and patient. She knew that my dick was thrice the girth and length of her fingers and that this would take a little time. As the widest part of my mushroom stretched the tight muscles of her ass ring, she instinctively exhaled, as if to pass gas, and I broke through.
“Nnnnnnghh,” she grimaced as her teeth clenched tightly on the shirt.
“Am I hurting you, baby?” I mock selflessly inquired, full knowing that the only way I would pull out now would be with the aid of a block and tackle.
“Nng ungh,” she grunted. Her ass began orbit in small circles as she gamely drew my turgid torpedo deep into her murky depths.
I pushed in further, only to stop dead at what seemed to be another muscle layer. With no lubricant handy, I formed spit in my mouth and, taking aim, let it dribble down around my shaft. After a few more pumps, another inch slid into her increasingly relaxed bung hole.
T clutched at the nape of the carpet and moaned as I fed more of my pole into her bowels. Soon, just as we were while cock to cunt, it became easier. The heat again began to build. Realizing there was certainly no way that I’d be able to stuff in all nine inches without gutting her, I stopped at a safe six and went to town.
“Rrrrrrgggh” she gurgled. Her jerky motions indicated that she was in the throes of yet another come. Her bountiful behind totally surrendered to me. I pistoned in and out of her like a jack hammer. Unlike the walls of her vagina, her chitlins were totally smooth. Other than the residual resistance of her rim ring, it was a practically frictionless fuck.
I was lost in the experience. Sweat poured from my brow. I was accustomed to Tamia’s young pussy pulsing as a signal for me to come with her but, fucking her like this; I was deliciously obliged to my own pace. I felt I could keep slamming her ass all night, but my hips began to cramp from my rigorous and relentless pounding. As for Tamia, she was in another world. She turned head, resting it on the pile of the carpet. Her tightly closed eyelids seeped blissful tears as she lay submissively beneath me. Her gyrating bottom and a rhythmic whimper were my only indicators that she was still conscious.
My boys began throbbing again. I was finally going to bust a nut. O.K., it wasn’t pussy, and it was all in, but it was all good. I kicked out to a semi push-up position to relieve Tamia of my weight and give her the full effect of pure pecker. She squealed in anticipation as I bore down on her and my efforts were rewarded as another inch of pork disappeared into her pooter.
My loins exploded almost without warning and I blasted a long, fire quenching wad. Tamia’s body went stiff as globs of white-hot sperm gushed into her delicate innards and ignited her most explosive orgasm yet. As I reached my peak, she bucked and ground herself into the carpet while letting loose a shrill, muffled scream. After a few more powerful jerks, I rode her taut frame as it came to rest.
I too was totally shot. Completed drained, my joint shriveled back to its compact size and popped out of her rump. I collapsed back onto her back, which was now so slippery with sweat that I nearly skidded off to the carpet. I buried my nose into her neck and nuzzled her cheek. Weak from our naughty nookie session, she managed to push the gag away with her tongue and turn her head just enough to give me a blubbery peck on the lips.
“Damn, T,” I breathed. “That was bombalicious.” I breathed.
“Yes, yes, yesss,” she sighed. Tiny pearls of perspiration beaded across her forehead in shimmering veil. “You like?”
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