Trey

I had spent most of the afternoon trying to recover from my breakfast encounter with Trey. I have to admit, to this day I've never looked at fruit in quite the same manner, and it has become my favorite breakfast food.

Trey went off to his meetings, having snagged a quick shower and a much-needed change of clothes. I had laughingly offered to wash his fruit-and-pussy stained outfit, but he just gave me a peck on the cheek and said he'd get it later. Right before he left, he pulled me to him, one hand around my waist, the other sliding under my robe, and using that sexy bedroom voice, requested that I cum all over his fingers so he could smell me all day. What woman could resist a request like that? Of course I obliged, and then spent all day imagining him surreptitiously sniffing those cream-coated fingers!

I cleaned up around the house, but my mind wasn't in it. I went from room to room, thinking about having him here, remembering having him there. I leaned up against doorframes and felt the wood press into my breasts, wishing it was my lover instead. I sat on my couch and softly rubbed my pussy, head thrown back, eyes closed, craving his fingers rather than mine. I tried to clean off the kitchen table—and got weak-kneed whenever I thought of how sexy and sensuous he'd made me feel, just a few short hours ago. And once, just once, I touched my belly and wondered if his seed had taken root there.

Over and over I told myself that I couldn't do this, that I was a married woman, that all Trey and I had was some wickedly hot passion between us but it would never amount to more than that. But in my heart, I knew it was already too late for me. I had fallen for my lover eons ago, through the email we had sent and the late-night conversations we'd had. Since that first meeting at my husband's reunion, my heart had known, even while my mind refused to accept that my marriage had become one of convenience, not one of love as a marriage should be.

Feeling a ball of despair, anger and frustration settle into my stomach at the futility of my dreams, I finished up my chores and decided to soak in a long, candle-lit bubble bath, regardless of it being late afternoon. Armed with a favorite book, a glass of coke and a square of chocolate, I nibbled, sipped and read my way into oblivion, conveniently forgetting the mess my life had become.

When the bathroom door crashed open, I jumped and shrieked, knocking my coke glass off the granite ledge of the tub and barely saving my book from falling into the water. Trey gracefully swooped up the glass, set it on the counter, and dropped to his knees beside the tub before I could gasp for a breath. Laughing, grinning, whooping his pleasure, he reached into the froth of bubbles and pulled me to him in a huge hug, ignoring the blast of bubbles that exploded everywhere as he clasped me to him. Never one to turn down getting my hands on this sexy man, I lifted my dripping wet arms and hugged him back, figuring his wet shirt was justifiable revenge for my thundering heart.

Pulling back slightly, Trey kissed me—forehead, temple, eyelid, nose, and finally, mouth. On and on and on we kissed, mouths meeting, tasting, parting, rejoining, tongues licking, exploring, breath mixing, moans matching beat for beat. One big, dark hand stroked the length of my back, over and over, while the other cupped my head and held me to him in that sweet, sexy way that they do it on the old movies. My fingers, frustrated by the fabric of his shirt, had settled on either side of his face, softly cradling him as we kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

After what seemed like and eternity, he pulled away—and when we looked at each other, anointed in little puffballs of soap bubbles, we couldn't help but laugh. Reaching out to smooth bubbles off of his ear, I asked what he had been so excited about. After another whoop echoed off the granite bath, he explained that his meeting today had gone incredibly well – but he'd explain the details later. Right now, he said, he needed to take his lady out to celebrate.

Trying hard to ignore the extra-hard thump of my heart at his choice of words, I stood up, water and bubbles cascading down the pale length of my body. Seems no matter what I did, I was never able to tan. But seeing the look in my lover's dark eyes as he reached up to rub bubbles off my pale pink nipple, and once again realizing the contrast of his smooth, dark skin against mine so soft and pale, I was grateful that I had never developed that west coast toasty color.

Wrapping me in a big, fluffy towel, Trey enfolded me in his arms and just held me for a minute, gazing at our reflection in the mirror. An unidentifiable expression passed over his face, and then with a quick grin, he popped my butt and told me to hurry up and get ready, that we were going to meet my husband at the restaurant. Biting back a surge of disappointment that I hadn't been the first one he contacted with his news, I smiled and turned away, saucily telling him that if I was going to get dressed, he needed to go wait in a different room, or it wouldn't happen.

Although I thought I had covered my feelings well, he tucked a hand under my chin, lifted my eyes to his, and said that the reason he'd not told me first was to buy us some more playtime—that his finger had been pressing the number to speed-dial me when he thought better of it, and called my husband. That said, he gave me a quick, hard kiss, told me to get my cute ass dressed up, and headed down the hall, knowing if he stayed, we'd end up on the bed so very few feet away.

Perusing the contents of my closet, I tried to decide what I could wear that would tantalize my lover without drawing the suspicions of my husband. Finally I decided on a simple, figure-skimming white sweater and short-ish, tight black skirt. I added a curve-enhancing bra, garter belt, stockings, and high heels. I twisted my hair up, quickly did some makeup, attached earrings and headed out to the living room, where Trey waited for me, sharply dressed and smelling sexy.

At his moue of approval and raised eyebrows, I raised my arms and twirled once, sending my hair flying and momentarily pressing the soft material of my sweater tight against my curves. At his low growl, I stopped, twisted slightly and pulled up the hem of my skirt, showing him my stocking top and a creamy inch of flesh above it, tossing a wicked grin at him. At this, he lunged forward, snatched me up in his strong arms, crushed me to him and thoroughly kissed me, making me whimper in surprised delight. When he eventually pulled away, I had to steady myself against his chest, my breath hitched and my eyes blurred.

With a softly bemused smile, he turned me to the door, grabbed his keys and my purse, and guided me to his truck, realizing how awestruck I was still, after that mind-shattering, heart-stopping kiss he'd just laid on me. Opening my door, he seated me gallantly in his truck, tucking my legs in and buckling my seatbelt before carefully closing my door. A grin on his face, he skipped around the front of 'his baby,' got in, buckled up, started it—and turned to look at me, laughing at my expression. I still didn't know up from down.

Unbuckling, he leaned over, gently kissed me, stroked my cheek, then laughed, re-buckled, and started driving, I knew not to where. Slowly I started to regain my senses, and realized that this was the first time I'd had the pleasure of seeing the inside of, much less riding in, 'his baby.' This SUV was the pride and joy he used for traveled, as opposed to the myriad of vehicles he kept carefully garaged at home and pulled out for car shows and whatnot. Looking around, it was obvious the care he put into every detail, from the butter-soft seats to the colored interior lighting. No wonder his business was so successful.

Catching his eye, I smiled at him, leaned back and relaxed, feeling him all around me. My eyes were closed, when I felt his hand nudge against mine, before he picked it up and held it on the console between us, our fingers meshed, his thumb softly stroking the back of my hand. Tipping my head toward him, I just watched as he drove, enjoying his more than capable handling of this sumptuous vehicle. Glancing over at me, noticing me watching him, he grinned and blew me a kiss, adeptly driving with his knees while he turned up the volume on his sound system.

At the first stoplight, he slid his hand from mine, tweaked my skirt up over my stocking top, then reached for my hand again, glancing over frequently at the stark contrast of my dark stockings, dark skirt, and smooth white thigh. Deciding I liked being his eye candy, I reached up and undid two of the buttons on my sweater, the soft weight of the material opening itself to just below the band of my bra, giving him full view of my cleavage. When I sat back, carefully shifting just so, the sweater slid over the curve of my breast, fully exposing it, cradling that lilac-wrapped orb as it threatened to spill over the edge of my bra. Trey's breath hissed. Reaching over, he nudged the edge of my bra down under the curve of my breast, completely exposing me right there in his truck. The smoked windows made it doubtful that anyone could see in, but the danger of it all slammed through me, arching my back and wetting my pussy instantly.

Hearing my gasp of passion, Trey chuckled, wet a fingertip, and lightly rubbed it over my hardened nipple, tweaking and pulling it, making me moan and thrash. Softly, gently he rubbed my nipple, decisively he stroked my breast, roughly he squeezed it and hefted its weight, making me writhe in the seat until I was begging him to stop, to not stop, to let me cum, to stop the truck and fuck me unless he wanted me to ruin his soft, supple seats with my pussy cream.

His low, sexy chuckle ending in a growl, Trey slid his hand down my breast, over my stomach and into the vee of my thighs, dipping his long, strong fingers into the weeping well of my wet pussy, realizing in an instant how strongly his simple, sexy touch affected me. Lifting his fingers to his face, he held me spellbound as he sniffed and licked my cream, telling me that he had been doing that all day, between meetings, during meetings, my essence on his fingers and my image burned in his mind. As his sexy voice planted these images in my own mind, I trembled and came, clenching my thighs in an effort to save his seats.

Realizing what I was doing, he leaned over, forced my legs apart, and told me to cum again, so he could watch. When I quivered and mewled that I was trying not to mess up the leather, he looked directly into my eyes, told me to push my skirt up and commanded me to cum. A split-second later I was writhing, screaming, arching, gushing girl cream everywhere, unable to control my reactions to my black lover's voice, touch, tone, demands. Uncaring who might see, forgetting we were in a car in rush-hour traffic, I gave me body, my control, my being, over to my lover, to do with as he wished.

When I opened my eyes finally, I realized Trey had pulled off into a parking lot. Turning off the truck, he shifted in his seat and just sat there, arm curled over the steering wheel, staring at me. After everything we had shared, both over distance and in person, you wouldn't think I could be embarrassed, but the flush of color was staining my cheeks something fierce. There I sat in his prized SUV, one breast completely exposed, legs spread, and pussy juice covering the seat, my legs and the undercurve of his dashboard.

Shifting, trying to cover my exposed body, mortified at what I had just done to his truck, I fought tears. I heard the quiet shnick of his seatbelt as it came loose, and looked out my window, frantically rubbing a hand under my eyes, praying my makeup would stay unsmudged. Seconds later his hand was cupping my cheek, tilting my face to his, his deep brown eyes full of concern. When I babbled some incoherent concern for his precious truck which I'd just ruined the upholstery of, he laughed, pulled my head to his chest, and thanked me.

I was astounded. And confused. Why was he thanking me, when his truck was going to smell like my wet pussy from now on? Stroking my cheek, he told me that one of his fantasies, since he'd bought the truck a few years back, was to one day have me in it, screaming his name and squirting my cream everywhere, just so that he could smell me in it. In fact, he continued, he'd had this image in his mind forever, of taking me on that big bench seat, smearing my cum from one end of it to the other, overlaying the scent of leather with the scent of me. With that he pulled my hand onto his throbbing erection, asking if I needed further proof.

Feeling him beneath my fingers, even through the layers of clothing, made my senses stumble. I could feel him throb, twitch, shift, just from my slightest touch. Gently wiping the last tear from my eye, he pulled me to him, giving me another earth-shattering kiss. Softly his hand traced over the curve of my breast, tugging my sweater down over it again, lifting it out of the cradle of my brassiere and into the warmth of his palm, where I still overflowed his big hand. I gasped into his mouth.

Slipping his hand down over the curve of my hip, he tugged me to him, deepening his kiss, running his hand all down my side, along the curve of my ass, along the strap of my garter, behind my knee, and all the way back up to the twist of hair at the back of my head. My earrings tinkled a sweet little tune as he brushed past them on his way to cupping my cheek, stroking my curve of my lower lip with his thumb as his lips mated with mine over and over.

Lost in his kiss, I didn't even notice when he unbuttoned the rest of my sweater, edging it off my shoulders and tossing it in the back. Or when he unclasped my bra, the feel of his fingers sliding along my arms masking the delicate scrape of fabric as he slid it off me. When he lowered his head and suckled on my aching nipples, I clutched his head to me, shaking, whimpering his name.

And when the sound of voices nearby startled me into pushing his head away, he growled, pushed back, and attacked the breast nearer to him, leaving the other one, the one closest to the door, exposed. Sensing my intent to cover my exposure with my hand, he clamped both my wrists in one of his strong hands, capturing them behind my seat and effectively holding me open and on display. Lifting his head from my breast, he licked and kissed his way up my neck to my mouth, his lips connecting with mine as his free hand slid finger-deep into my drenched pussy.

No big surprise, I gasped, arched and came, screaming into his mouth, writhing and twisting on his fingers, oblivious to the rest of the world. Sneaking a peek out my window, Trey noticed the group of guys standing around his front quarterpanel, jaws hanging open, watching as this well-built black man so obviously pleasured the seemingly naked white woman in the public parking lot of a popular store. With a feral grin of purely devilish delight, he jammed four fingers up into my wet, gushing pussy, slamming them in and out of me. Ripping my mouth from his, I screamed my passion at the top of my lungs, wailing Trey's name over and over, begging him to fuck me, take me, use me, slam his big black dick into me, make me his, anything, just cum in me. Flailing and thrashing, completely oblivious to our audience, I surged up from under Trey, pushing him back into his own seat, crashing into his chest and attacking his mouth while frantically undoing his pants, blissfully unaware of my complete exposure to the boys outside who could now see my wet, swollen pussy in all its glory as I straddled the console, balancing with one knee against my headrest, the other on my seat.

Taking advantage of my spread position, Trey slid his long dark fingers back inside me, two fingers in while two spread my glistening wet lips open, his thumb brushing the top of my aching clit. Finally I got his pants undone, pulled his throbbing cock out, and in one diving rush, engulfed his full length in my wet, hot mouth. Trey's head bounced off the back of his seat as my lips massaged the base of his long black dick, my pussy spurting cream all over his hand. The group outside leaned closer, faces almost pressed against the windows. Ever oblivious, I face-fucked my lover, desperate for his sweet cream in any part of my body, feeling like a slut and loving every second of it. Trey slipped his fingers out of me, scooped up a handful of my slippery juice, and rubbed it on my ass, making those soft white cheeks shine in the late afternoon sun. He scooped up another handful, smearing it over my pussy lips and onto my asshole, gently running his finger 'round and 'round, delighting in the vibrations that my moans of pleasure sent through his cock.

Slowly, gently, he slipped a finger in, working it in and out, making slightly larger circles, his other hand running through my hair, gently caressing me. He kept an eye on our audience, taking note of both their amazement at the scene before them, and their pleasure in the sensuality of it. He recognized the furtive movements of hands tucked demurely into pockets, and smiled to himself. Carefully he worked in another finger, and another, priming me for the mind-blowing orgasm he was about to give me.

He cautiously set his seat back, the motorized mechanism so quiet and smooth I never even realized what he was doing. Guiding me with one hand on the back of my head, he pulled me off of his cock, sliding up his body 'til our mouths were once again meshed. Carefully he scooted back, still holding me to him, his other hand feeling the way as he maneuvered us backward and onto the back seat of his SUV, where he'd pictured having me for so long. Lost in the sensations of what he was doing to me, I never even realized I had moved, mindlessly following him as he strove to fulfill a fantasy for each of us.

-Close your eyes, he whispered, and just feel my skin on yours.

Wet, wild and totally trusting, I did as my lover asked, a smile crossing my lips as his body brushed against mine, his hand guiding me here, positioning me there, his lips on my nipple, his hand on my waist, then my ankle. I felt something hard beneath my swaying breasts, cool against the wetness of my freshly suckled nipple, and shuddered. I could feel him behind me, between my wide-spread legs, his hard dick brushing against me, pulling away, then brushing again. My pussy creamed, aching for him. With my eyes closed, I could smell the scent of my sex all throughout the truck. When he leaned me forward and placed one of my hands on each of the front seats, I could feel the cool, wet puddle my desire had left on my seat. I shivered.

-Smell that, he asked, heightening my awareness of the scent of my desire. That scent was on my fingers all day, he continued, crooning in my ear. That scent drove me crazy, made me throb and ache for you. That scent is all over my hard dick, he gritted, caressing himself, stroking my cream all over his hard black cock. All day I kept thinking how bad I wanted you, how I couldn't get enough, how I wanted to make you scream, make you mine. And now, he ground out, I'm making every part of you mine,for all the world to see. OPEN YOUR EYES.

With that, he simultaneously stroked his big black cock into my soft white ass and gripped his hand in my hair, pulling me up, arching my back, my expression of sheer pleasure and momentary pain displayed for our audience to see as he claimed yet another part of me as his own. Feeling his dick take me, his hand fisted in my hair, his breath panting in my ear, and seeing the excited faces of the group of men outside the truck who were now pressed right up to the windows to watch our coupling, I lost it. Howling in pleasure, I splattered my cream from one end of his bench seat to the other and back again, soaking him, soaking me, my cries echoing around the cabin of the truck and into the ears of our attentive audience. Pulling my head back even further, he licked and nuzzled me, his rough voice asking if I liked being watched, liked having my ass fucked by his big black dick where people could see, liked my ownership being so obviously displayed like this.