02

Chapter 1 - Continuations

We're holding onto each other. There's no other way to describe it. Not cuddling, but in each others arms. Literally holding on. Stood up. Naked. My cock between her legs. Her scent rising through the heat of her wetness. Black flesh goosebumped. Nipples hard. The smoulder in her dark eyes mirroring the intensity in my own.

She'd arrived literally five minutes before. We'd not seen each other in two weeks and the tension leading up to it had been unbearable. The hours leading up to the door opening... interminable.

I'd opened the door, she'd been displaying some flesh, arms, legs, but all very decent to the unknowing eye. For me, no pretense was required, shorts , t-shirt, nothing else. No underwear. None needed.

I'd closed the door. Kissed her. She'd removed her shoes. Kissed some more. She was suddenly undressed. Perhaps a minute had passed. My cock rock hard. I knew she was wet.

I don't remember how it All started. I just remember it

being

.

Don't get me wrong, I remember the conversations before we met, the stubborn woman insisting on five dates before anything would happen. Well, maybe a kiss. If I was lucky. I also remember the type of chat that occasionally went on, the smut, the masturbation. Sometimes just the weather and how shit work was.

Until one day I was ordered, there was no other word, before we'd met, to a hotel to allow her to do rude things to me. And for me to do rude things to her. We had. And we had also cuddled up, just comfortable in the silence. The connection made me comfortable and uncomfortable.

*

I stood, my legs barely open with his cock between my legs, hard on my clit. I kept looking up into his eyes and then looking away, a furious blush in my cheeks. My ebony flesh didn't show it, for which I was grateful. The cocky bastard knew it was there all the same. His vaguely knowing smile told me.

It made me wetter.

My hips rocked as he thrust gently.

He grabbed my hair pulling my head back forcing me to stare into his eyes, blue, grey or green, I'm not really sure. Pulling my lips onto his into a furious kiss.

His hands wandered all over me while I could do nothing but hold on as my clit swelled with the touch of his cock. Goosebumps rose on my skin at the touch of his hands. How the fuck had I gotten so naked, so quickly?

I'm not complaining. I'm mystified. It always happens this way. We kiss... and then suddenly we're naked.

I was distracting myself on purpose. I could feel my orgasm rising already. The bastard knew it too. Nails scraped down my back, teeth flowed and bit down my neck, my shoulders. Fingers pinched my nipples.

Jesus, I barely knew the guy, but I'm so wet for him. I was wet before I arrived, the anticipation welling deep inside. The dirty bastard. My consolation is that I think he's as helpless as me.

Laugh at the idea of chemistry if you like. But it does happen. It is happening

now

.

His cock is so hard on my clit, every now and then he shifts so that he nudges the entrance to my cookie. And then he gazes deep into my eyes, full of lust and mischief. He know I want him inside me. He wants to be as deep as he can. But he doesn't do it. I can smell myself, my pussy wet and ripe. I want him inside me. I want my arse spanked. I want my cunt licked. His fingers inside me. I want his tongue on me as I straddle his face.

Hell, I've never done it, but I want his cock up my arse.

I want him to devour me.

And then I'm up against the wall. His hands under my arse, lifting me onto him.

I freeze. I'm virtually on my period, and I'm dreading this moment. He doesn't care.

I

do. It's unpleasant, messy. It may be a hotel room, but I have pride.

He isn't using the wall to support me anymore, my legs around his waist. I can feel an inch of him inside me, and I pull back a bit.

*

I fall out of her. I'm not sure why, but this position just doesn't seem to be working. I'm not a muscle-bound moron, I'm pretty wiry, strong legs, and I'm holding her up fairly easily. She's helping, her legs around my waist.

I try again, and still it doesn't really click.

She's so wet, I'm so hard. I could see how close to orgasm she had been. I can't see the blush on her cheeks, but I can. If that makes any sense.

She didn't know I'd been close too, I don't think. I needed a change of position.

Fuck it.

I carry her over to the bed and lay her down gently.

Grab her hands.

Raise them above her head.

She's looking at me, challenging me, that look that says you're stronger than me physically, but I want this. I want you to dominate me and fuck me and make me cum. I WANT that.

Not a woman to cross. Nor did I intend to.

My lips descend to hers. We kiss. My cock brushes her clit, a jolt of electricity through her body, as it heads towards her pussy, my legs shifting hers wider. My cock is just pushing at the entrance to her vagina, and I know it's driving her crazy. She wants me to slide inside. Fuck her hard.

My tongue and teeth descend down her neck and I can feel her hips pushing up insistently, wanting me inside her.

Our eyes meet and I smile at her, disgraceful and wanton as I resist. I want her to know I will fuck her when I want and not when she wants. That it was my time to be in charge.

If I hadn't mentioned, we'd fucked previously. Sometimes as equals, sometimes as me in charge, sometimes her dominating me. Sometimes all three over an evening.

It was just my turn.

I walk my mouth down her, tongue and teeth tracing down the contours of her body.

Teeth nipping at flesh, teasing and sucking her sensitive nipples, tongue flicking. Tongue further down, releasing hands, spreading legs wider.

My tongue circling her clit. Biting the flesh hard on her the most inner of thighs. Fingers taking the place of my cock. Just nudging the entrance of her pussy.

Her back arching. Her hand insistent on my head, tight in my hair, trying to pull my tongue on to her. I can see just how swollen and ripe her clit is. And still I'm resisting her. Touching everywhere but there with teeth, tongue lips. I can see her wetness seeping out of her.

*

The bastard! Just fucking fuck me!

I'm dying. I want him. I want his tongue on my clit, his cock inside me.

And then his tongue brushes me. It's not accidental. And again. My stomach tightens. My pussy clenches tight. His fingers start to enter me.

His tongue on my clit, circling it.... And then he's pushing it hard against his teeth, not biting. Just pushing his tongue against his teeth that are buffered by some part of me. He finds the very spot he's searching for with the tip of his tongue and flicks it hard and at the same time pushes two fingers inside me, hard, brutal.

I gasp.

My hips descend of their own volition to take them as deep as they'll go. And then he's hooking his fingers somewhere up there. Something ripples through me. I'm not sure if it's pleasure, it's not pain. It makes my stomach clench tighter. My back arch. My flesh becomes sensitive, all over and his free hand is roaming all over me, stroking my skin, grasping my breasts, pulling hard on my nipples. Oh the bastard, I should have never told him just how sensitive they are.

My body is singing. I want his cock. I want to cum like this. I don't know what I want.

His tongue is lapping across my clit, it's tip buried into the very core of me, his fingers fucking me hard.

Oh my god.

*

I can feel her tightening on my fingers. I've no idea where she's cumming from, but she's cumming. She swears profusely.

"Oh fuck, oh shit."

And then I can feel her whole body tensing, I can feel her pussy get even wetter.

She goes quiet, and her body contorts, a hand painful in my hair.

The tension releases.

I can feel her pussy clenching involuntary on my fingers.

My tongue is still on her clit, the tip pushing her most sensitive part up towards the hardness of my teeth. Not biting, just a surface to use as resistance.

And she's pushing my head away, that part of her too sensitive to be touched.

I move up her quickly, lips brushing up her as I go.

My lips meet hers as I enter her. There is no friction. I slide in easily. I groan deep inside, an echo in my chest.

I feel her back arch a little as she pushes herself down further onto my penis. It feels really hard, ridiculously so, even to me.

There is no time for gentle.

I grab a handful of her red braids, pull her hair back harshly as my other hand spreads her legs wider.

Forcing her to look at me. I can see the sweat beaded on her nose and her upper lip. I can feel her hand on my back, slick and hot, sweat beading up as I plunge deep into her.

It's going to be quick, for both of us. I can see it in her eyes, feel it in my balls, up the shaft of my cock.

Her breasts are slick with sweat now and her hands are on my arse pulling me into her.

My cock is driving into her, the slap of flesh ringing out as I fuck her hard.

I see small details, like the blush on her face, even if I can't see it on her flesh, goosebumps raised on her flesh, a single grey hair.

She looks away for a second, but she can't resist looking back. She's disgraceful. Charming, maybe slightly conflicted, but she's very, very turned on, whether she believes she should be doing this or not. She doesn't want to stop. Her eyes are dark and bright, almost shy and definitely challenging.

*

Oh my god. I'm going to cum. Again.

We've been here for fifteen minutes, I'm naked, sweat is rolling down my body, an orgasm is rolling up it. He's deep inside me. I've got my fucking hands on his arse pulling him deeper.

I look I to his eyes, intending to overpower him, but fuck, I can't. He's loving it. He's so hard. I blush. Thank god for my black skin.

I can feel myself starting to tighten around him and I'm swearing in Shona, not in English, I'm so wet, my mind has gone native.

He's moaning hard, he's quiet until he cums, and I can feel him start to tense inside me, the twitching of his cock. I can feel the molten heat of his cum.

It's all too much. I can feel my insides gripping him, milking him for all of his seed, oh god, I'm cumming again. Fuck. Fuck.

The intensity of the orgasm tightens every muscle in my body. I can feel my stomach trembling.

And then he's lay on top of me, his chest rising and falling sharply. His cock is still twitching, and I can feel his semen starting to dribble out of me, a rivulet down the cheeks of my arse.

He flips over, an empty space in my body, a coolness on it, and drags me into a hug, pulling me close. He smells good, clean. Masculine.

"Hello Sthandwa." He says.

*

I don't know her name. She won't tell me what it is. I'm guessing she's married. Possibly separated. She advertised herself as "S" on Tinder. She gave me Sthandwa as a name.

It means 'Lover' in a Zimbabwean language called Shona. I'd never heard of it before. But I know enough to know that no one calls a girl child 'Lover'. Google is my friend.

She won't tell me her name. I don't care.

She wants this. She has integrity. I can't explain why. She just does. She may be married, but it's not good. I still think she's separated, but I know nothing of her culture, so who the hell am I to judge? Fuck. I'm still married. Separated. Living under a different roof. I'm 46 years old and I'm renting, for fucks sake. I just won't see my kids out of their house, and so I won't force my ex-wife to buy me out. Honestly, I won't see my ex-wife out of her house either.

Where were we?

Yes, no name. Nevyn. I think that's Welsh for No Name. I'm sure I read that somewhere.

It will suffice for now.

She's warm in my arms. Her ebony flesh smells uniquely of her, musky and clean. Her skin is so very smooth.

I look wan and pale in comparison, even though it's July, as my eyes wander down her body and back up to meet her eyes.

Big and brown. Her lips full.

I don't know what to make of the look in her eyes. She's guarded at times... but then I'm a relative stranger, she's in a hotel room with me, bollock naked and vulnerable. If I was that sort of man, she would be too.

I'm conscious of that, very conscious. I'm an arsehole at times, but not a complete arsehole. Not like that.

And the hug and cuddle and pulling her in close for some intimacy, well, that's not just for her. It's for me too.

She smells good, looks good, feels good.

It

feels good. This thing. I like her.

*

My hands wander again. I warned her. I have wandering hands. I have warned her a few times.

It's only light stroking. But I can see her nipple harden and I can feel my cock start to harden.

We've spoken a couple of dozen words, smiled sheepishly, smiled and blushed, smiled some more. Maybe ten minutes have passed. Probably less. Those looks, though. They seem to speak a million words.

But now I'm stroking again. They didn't ever stop, in all fairness, it's now just more insistent. Hands wandering further, over her neck, pulling her in to a kiss.

They're moving down her breast. Slowly over her stomach. Over smoothness that is still slick with mingled sweat. No hair at all. Just smooth.

My finger touches her clit, slides down further, into her. I can feel my wetness there, and now the smell of my cum mingles with hers.

I may speak about my hands in the third person. They are often independent of thought, so forgive me.

They are in for a busy afternoon.

Chapter 2 - Firsts

Sthandwa misses me, I miss him. I yearn for him. I long to see him, and I know he feels the same way. I call him my Sthandwa, my lover, mine.

We are going to meet, our first weekend together. We have so far managed to meet a couple of times, including 1 night.

I feel comfortable around him, with him.

There is something though, something I can't put my finger on. Is he holding back? Is he hiding something? I don't know. I have my own skeletons in the wardrobe, it probably isn't my position to ask that. I like him and I have butterflies in my stomach already.

He got there before me, like he always does. After all, I am a woman and we are never on time. He has that look, I melt.

I'm following him as he carries my bag into the nice little cottage. I am wet already, trying to keep my composure and hands to myself.

*

As Sthandwa says, we're away for a couple of nights and I've promised her a surprise. Food first though, surprise later.

Funnily enough, we're both a bit giddy still, and she's also promised her own surprise.

It's turned from each of us wanting a good fuck to something more. We like each other, I think I can say that for Sthandwa as well. She looks like she likes me.

She still won't tell me her real name, but Sthandwa, Lover, works for me. It has a good ring to it.

I need to iron before we leave the house, and revenge is definitely a dish best served cold. She's been brought up to be the home-maker, it's ingrained and I frequently tease her for her obsession with laundry.

There are now photographs of me armed with an ironing board, and I occasionally get them sent to me if she feels she's losing an argument. I hate her.

I don't. We bicker and we both love it.

Culturally for me, I don't know many black Africans, male or female. Black Caribbeans, yes. I have many things to learn and I can occasionally see the war within her, the desire to be strong and independent, dare I say, be more Western, but there's the pull of her upbringing which is important to her. No, that's not fair, it's not important, it just is her and she's rightly proud of her heritage. There is a bit of a war in her, though. And I'm not sure she knows which side she's on. I'm not even sure I can begin to comprehend the conflict.

Anyway. We eat, something Italian, but the food was secondary.

It had started raining while we ate, so we get a taxi back... and I had no desire to repeat the thirty minute walk back. She wants me. I want her.

High excitement does funny things to the memory. I have lasting images of million-word looks; holding hands as we walked to the restaurant; laughing shyly; that look she has. But I have no memory of the dress she wore. And I have no memory that she had no panties on the entire time. She reminded me of this weeks later, and I just looked at her blankly. Of all things to forget.

I have told her that she needs to do this again. There are things that I would like to remember, and fondling her arse cheeks, naked, as we walk is a good memory to have.

*

I'm not especially subtle, so when we got back, I just ordered her naked.

Blindfolded her.

And then left her stood here, naked and beautiful. Goosebumps on her flesh. A heightened rise to her chest as whatever thoughts ran through her head.

I'm a simple man. My shopping had me buying candles, squirt cream, chocolate and ice. Mail order had me buying a blindfold and restraints. I remind her that no always means no. If she says stop, I stop. We're still exploring our boundaries.

She was either going to love it or hate it. Her own admission had her say that she'd never really been played with for HER pleasure. I find this really hard to comprehend. As I'd explained to her, nothing turns me on more than turning my woman on and so I will play with my woman and I want her to cum and cum and cum again. I want her wanting more.

Her own admission also had her say that she wanted to be dominated.

*

I'd been stood for a few minutes, not entirely comfortable.

I'd heard the fridge door. The ping of the microwave. The rattle of ice in a glass.

The strike of a match and the scent of a candle.

A rattle on the bed frame.

I can feel my nipples hard, I'm ridiculously wet. I'm a bit scared.

No one has ever done this to me before. Or for me. I've never been blindfolded like this, made to wait. He's actually fucking thought about this.

I feel him walk around me. I can't imagine what he's doing, just looking? Gazing on my nakedness? My breathing shortens further, I can feel my chest rising higher, my inhalation catching in my throat.

He kisses me on the stomach. I can feel it withdraw out of sheer reaction. Gentles hands stroke me. There's a kiss on my lips that I push back against, sliding my tongue timorously inside his mouth.

I did not expect this.

*

Her tongue is inside my mouth, darting gently. I can feel the tremors of her body, see the flesh goosebumped and nipples raised.

Her lips are searching for mine as I pull away. I hadn't wanted to start hard, I wanted soft and gentle. Make her feel comfortable. Touch her. Stroke her. Kiss her. Slide my lips down her neck and nip gently as I do.

And now I shall begin.

I take a hand, slide the cuff on her wrist. Do the same with the other wrist.

Move her onto the bed, face down. Fasten her to the straps.

Raise her hips high in the air.

Kiss her arse cheeks.

Stroke her inner thighs, kiss and lick and bite.

"Relax, Sthandwa," I whisper in her ear. "Relax."

I gently start to insert the lubricated butt plug and I can feel her body tense. Not as much as the first time.

"Relax," I whisper again.

She does. Resistance lessens and, slowly, the plug is inside her. I tease a little, partially removing it and then letting it slide back in. She's so wet, I can see her cunt is almost dripping and her clitoris is engorged.

She doesn't know that I won't be touching her for some time.

I'm going to treat her to a pampering and I've been looking forward to this for weeks.

I lie her flat on her stomach and slide my hands over all of her flesh... Just gentle, sometimes my entire hand, sometimes a finger, sometimes a nail. Gentle.

I run my lips over her feet, kissing toes and then my tongue traces up her calves, floating it on the sensitive skin at the back of her knee.