"That's right girl, both hands, nice and slow...just stroke me gently. We don't want me to come in my pants, do we?"
"No, I want this gorgeous cock inside my wet cunt," Wendy heard herself say. It actually took a few heartbeats after the words came out for Wendy to realize that it was her voice echoing off the walls.
She asked herself, not for the first time, what she was doing in, in the dark, in a stranger's kitchen, making out with a virtual stranger, begging him to fuck her. The fact that he was a black man- well, actually a charming cafe au lait colour- just added to the strangeness of it all. Wendy had been raised as a "good girl" in a small Southern town. She hadn't known any black people growing up. Though she had gone through a "wild child" phase just after she turned eighteen, with multiple sexual misadventures, they were all with young men with two first names, good old boys.
Then the tire plant had closed, the jobs vanished to Malaysia. Daddy had drunk himself to death, Mama ended up in a nursing home, and at twenty-five, Wendy found herself with just enough insurance proceeds left to relocate to California.
This was Wendy's first New Year's Eve in her new home. A co worker from the software company where Wendy answered phones, fetched coffee and straightened the "play room" had invited Wendy to this party in the suburbs. At first, Wendy had felt like the classic duck out of water, literally a wallflower, her back pressed up against the drywall, as she nursed a drink and watched her more outgoing cohort swirl around her.
She knew she would be stuck there until after midnight, and was resigned to her fate. Wendy was pleased that she felt no urge to get drunk, to create an excuse to let down her hair and unleash that party girl she had left behind in her tiny home town. That spirit, she decided, was not bottled up inside her, it was a phase she had outgrown. A second drink to be polite, avoid midnight kisses, thank her hostess- the hardest part might be finding a ride home since so many folks were so drunk. The big suburban house had lots of rooms where Wendy realized people might crash, sleep it off -- she overheard chatter about a big poolside brunch in the morning. But she also knew that those guest rooms would be"play rooms" and asking to stay over was like inviting sex.
Midnight caught Wendy by surprise. She heard a voice say, "just enough time for a chocolate martini," and had taken the glass, not really noticing who handed it too her. She downed it in a single gulp, anxious to find a quiet corner.
Suddenly, the big grandfather clock in the foyer boomed. Streamers flew. Wendy felt big strong hands around her waist, pulling her away from the wall, lifting her up so that her lips could meet those of the man. Rather than struggle, Wendy focused on not spilling her drink, her hands out from her body, even as she felt a hard cock against her belly.
The man held the kiss, and held Wendy, his hands deftly sliding down her back, cupping her buttocks the better to hold her. She realized only after it happened that her shoes fell from her feet, and she locked her ankles behind the man's thighs, just above his knees, stabilizing their bonding. Moaning helplessly with lust while still kissing him, and pressing her body more firmly against that throbbing member.
Wendy felt the goose bumps spread over her flesh as she shivered with an excitement she had not felt in so long that she had almost forgotten the feeling. She recognized how turned on she was, as she experienced the familiar sensation of her juices soaking through her panties as her labia puffed and her clit hardened in eager anticipation. She had to wonder if the stranger could feel her wetness through her dress, and his clothing, but then she giggled, as best she could without breaking the liplock, because it really didn't matter. Wendy was once again the wild girl who got any man she wanted, and she wanted this man. Who was the flame and who was the moth no longer mattered. The heat was consuming them both. Wendy had to see this cock, touch this cock, eat this cock, fuck this cock.
The kiss finally ended. Only then did Wendy realize that her kisser had carried her into the semi-dark interior hallway, away from the crowd. She marvelled for a moment at how athletic he must be to have inched confidently backward without jerking her. By the time she was done that thought, she had caught her breath, could feel her rock hard nipples drilling into his hard pectoral muscles.
"I need you,"she whispered, "just kissing you has made me so wet that I really don't care if you decide to fuck me right here right now in this hallway, but I need to be fucked. I need your big black cock in my little white cunt. I need to ride you hard."
Wendy giggled, wriggling against his groin.
"But I'd prefer if we went somewhere that I can take my time enjoying your cock. I can tell it must be a nice one. I want to take it out, play with it, lick it, suck it, swallow your great gobs of goo, so that when you do fuck me you will last a good long time, and give me a really long hard fucking."
She giggled a bit more, less nervous, more wicked. "And then if you aren't too worn out, I want you to fuck me again- nice, slow and easy. I think by then you might have worn me out enough to slake this thirst I have for you, for your cock."
"What if I want to fuck your ass?" the stranger asked.
"I haven't done that in years, so we better ease into it, but after we do what I need, it would only be fair to let you have what you want from me."
This time the man chuckled, low and deep from that massive chest. "Well, I bet asses are a lot like pussies- once fucked there is no retroactive virginity- a bit of stimulation and it should stretch right back out."
"I hope it stretches enough to fit your cock, I am not sure I've ever had one that big up my ass before."
"We'll make sure you are good and ready," he said reassuringly.
All the while, he slow danced her back down the hall, except her feet never reached the floor. He pivoted her into the deserted kitchen. She was surprised no one was in that room, but recalled that the wet bar in the family room had it's own fridge and plumbing.
Wendy had her first good look at her soon to be lover. She really had never seen him before, had not noticed him at the party even. He had a touch of grey at his temples, a neat trim moustache.
His skin was the colour of coffee with cream. He looked like he might have been a corner-back or tight end in college, a fierce competitor, his expensive clothing and haircut suggesting he had channelled that into business success- stock trading or lawyer, Wendy guessed. A man who had no trouble deciding what he wanted, and most of the time, got what he reached out to grab.
Wendy realized she has seen his type before. Except for the colour of his skin, he was just like the men who ran the tire factory. No, she corrected herself, his confidence was more like the men from 'away' who had owned the factory, and had only appeared there the day they announced that it was closing forever. There was that distance coldness behind the lust. Sometimes, it was lust for money, tonight, it was lust for Wendy.
She decided in that instant that the heat was worth the cold. The heat was so intense that it was melting the ice that had shielded Wendy's heart and loins these past few years.
"Damn, woman, you turn me on, you are so fucking gorgeous," the stranger whispered as he reached around, his fingers exploring the outline of her ass, and then one long strong finger slid lightly along her ass crack. Wendy wished her dress was hiked high enough that he could just shove her wet panties aside and finger fuck her ass right then.
As if he could read her mind, he relaxed his grip just enough that between his fingers roaming and her hips twisting, her dress rode higher, and his finger slid around the back of her thigh, smoothly curving between Wendy's cleaving buttocks.
"Oh, yes, like that," Wendy murmured encouragement. "That's good, baby."
This strange caramel coloured gent hardly needed the instruction. His digit already had circled that forbidden rose, gently yet firmly easing it open, and entering with similar assuredness, neither thrusting too hard nor tickling with hesitancy. All Wendy could do then was sigh, and gently nibble his neck, right where it became a shoulder. The shiver which shock through her body might have been a teeny orgasm, but she ignored it, holding out for something much more substantial.
His thumb fumbled along Wendy's taint, the first moment since he had picked up that he was not totally smooth. She could feel his cock, still in his pants, thrusting against her labia, still panty clad. Even if he shoved that thin fabric outside, he could not hold her, and unzip at the same time, and there was just no room for her to reach down and help.
"I know we both want to fuck, but first, let me down for a few minutes," Wendy growled, her lips caressing the minute hairs around the outside of his ear. She stuck her tongue into that canal just for fun.
Wendy slid down his body, doing her best not to lose contact, first releasing the grip her legs had around him. As soon as her feet found the floor, she relaxed her knees. He picked that perfect instant to let go of her ass, and then, Wendy slid to her knees, just the ghost of her hard nipples having caressed his rock hard abs on the way past. She had found his cock inside his pants before she was even settled, and his belt and zipper opened smoothly. Wendy had to grin to herself that this truly was just like riding a bicycle- all the practice fumbling with those country bumpkins in their pickup trucks and barns and seedy motels was now paying off.
