She just replied, "I got good news, too" with a 'purr'.
Although it was our own home, I still rang the bell, just to hear my lovely black woman call out, "Come in, stud!"
Opening the front door, I stepped into the small vestibule, and then into the foyer.
Then I looked up into a dark-skinned African-American vision. A sex goddess descended the four stair-steps leading to the entrance, and slowly glided toward me on 4-inch Lucite strappy heel slippers, tied and re-tied around her calves. I saw a white silk blouse, daringly worn in a French-Cut fashion (held together with one button, about at her navel), and a dark leather mini-skirt wrap around. Her dark breasts, capped by fantastically stiff nipples swayed from side to side, alternately exposing and revealing themselves. Her hair was up in braids again. She had open mesh fish-net stockings, ending just under the skirt.
Her mouth was open in that loose-lipped, pre-kiss droop that only girls—only very turned-on, about-to-have-sex girls—could do.
I knew, without knowing how I knew, that she was shaved glass-smooth; that she had no panties; and there was no trace of any breast support as she swayed up to me.
I was hard as a man can be, with my trousers poked out from my groin.
I got distracted, by a set of lovely dark-Nubian arms clasped round my neck, while she said, "You've been gone all day and my pussy is sooo lonely. You'd better plan on doing something about that. Then I'll tell you my good news."
Laughing, I answered, "OK, but after I pleasure the said pussy, I've got some good news for you, too."
"Later," she laughed at me, turning around so her back was against my front. She slipped the single button holding her blouse closed, then shrugged out of the material, letting it fall to and puddle on the carpeted floor. Her oh-so-short leather skirt followed. My now nude woman in heels turned us so that we could see our reflections in the full-length mirror in the entrance-way.
Reaching around, still ground tightly to me, back to front, she reached over her head with both arms and clasped her hands around my neck. Causing her lovely dark breasts to stretch up and thrust out, pushing her rigid nipples and puffy aureoles out toward the mirror. The same for the bare-of-hair mound between her thighs.
I closed my own arms around her taught belly and held her, until she purred in my ear, "Higher. Hands on my tits. Fingers on my nips. Pull. Twist. Make my tits cum. Right now. Don't wait. Feel my slutty black boobs and nips. Tug on me, again. Teach me about those 'hot wires' connecting my nips with my clit. Make 'em spark."
I did, working both her tit-fleshed mounds until she started to heave and groan, demanding that I maul her boobs, as she worked herself up to her first orgasm. Then she came, shaking and crying out. Turning around, my dark black woman started tearing at my clothes and demanding that I get naked for her, so she could worship my cock.
I doubt it took 2 minutes before we became one, a raging-hard white guy, holding a drooling-wet black woman, both with an intent to have slutty sex as soon as possible.
We both turned toward the bedroom, at the back of the house. We tried to get there, we really did. But we only made it to the center of the living room. There, she tripped me but then beat me to the floor.
My head fell between two thick dark-black thighs, and that put my head and ears within reach of her grasping hands. I was pulled toward that glass-smooth pussy, complete with now-sloppy-wet pussy and swollen, distended clit. My tongue slid into her pussy, lapped a bit, then up toward her clit. It took that bulging organ in my lips and mouth and applied all the oral vacuum I could.
Her first squirt flew, soaking my chin, neck and chest hair. She screamed louder. A steam calliope went off about 2 feet from my ears, as Shayla screamed and shrieked, heaving and shuddering, one orgasm chasing the other, as I lapped in and around her dripping pussy and clit.
Now, a woman's pussy can be seen and pleasured from outside, but her cunt, well, that's a different matter. No man will ever see a woman's cunt, at least not the middle and deep parts. I could only reach Shayla's cunt with my questing fingers—first one, then two and finally three—but finding and caressing her G-spot.
The steam calliope pumped another 100 lbs. of pressure into the whistles, as my sex-crazed, black cum-slut woman heaved, shouted impossible-to-fulfill obscenities and shuddered through several more orgasms.
