As Time Goes By: A BWWM Interracial Romance (3 page)

BOOK: As Time Goes By: A BWWM Interracial Romance
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 “I get so damn tempted and so damn horny. What can I say?”

 “You can say that you’ll be extra careful. You tend to fall
in love so damn easily.”

 “Don’t I know it. But this time I’ll really try to guard my
heart.”

 “Damn, supper’s burning on the stove. I’ll call you later
tonight. Hopefully you won’t have asked the irresistible Arnie to sleep over.”

 “I’ll try not to be my usual slut self, although it may
interest you to know that I’ve been sex free now for a full six months.”

 “A lie!”

 “Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

 “A whole half a year? I didn’t think it possible for a girl
like you. But it just goes to show you that…oh no…there goes the smoke
detector. Talk to you later. Bye.”

 “Bye.”

 A whole half a year. Marg shook her head. Over the last
fifteen years she had developed quite a taste for the pleasures of the flesh,
having started her long winded career of satisfying men between the sheets
since the tender age if eighteen. But she had been trying to wean herself out
of that lifestyle of late. And her current record of six months, one week, two
days and one and a half hours was a testament to that fact.

 A pang of hunger dug at Marg. She had barely had a bite
since the one slice of dry toast for breakfast. She smiled at herself. If she
was looking to keep her sensational figure intact, then she was certainly going
about it the right way. Still, she supposed she should eat something. Steamed
Lobster and succulent steak wasn’t due for at least another two or three hours.
She smiled a second time. Abstaining from food was a whole lot easier than
abstaining from sex, but she already knew the reason why. The men in her life
had been so damn gorgeous, so buff, so fucking out of this world handsome, that
they had been hard to resist. Still, she supposed that such a lifestyle
probably explained, at least to some degree, why she had such a hard time
snaring a wedding ring as opposed to just another man. Men tended to get a
sense about women. Marg was very hot and very desirable, and could have any man
she chose. And she certainly did just that, only women with a reputation for
having a lot of mileage on them seemed to be the first ones left by the
wayside. Regardless of how sweet she was, and regardless of how kind and caring
she was, and regardless of how super hot she was, when a girl like her had a
rep for sleeping around, then men tended not to want to bring her home to their
mothers when all was said and done. Marg was agitated at the thought. She
didn’t think it fair, but she could kind of understand a man’s reasoning. What
if he were to marry her and she were to start running around with every other
man in sight. Society had a high tolerance for men that couldn’t keep it in
their pants. ‘Boys will be boys’ was the battle cry whenever that was the case,
and even presidents and men of God had managed to survive the scandal. But
women had no such luck. That was a double standard that always grated on Marg’s
nerves. Men could romp about with their pants around their ankles, but women
had better not pull up their skirts over their heads. It was okay to show lots
of cleavage, but not okay to let their damn stubby nipples show. Women were
supposed to remain innocent and pristine, two virtues which Marg could hardly
lay claim to, and yet, she was a very nice girl with a sparkling personality
and a keen mind. The fact she was the most beautiful woman ever born on God’s
green earth didn’t alter the fact that she deserved to be just as happy as any
other female of the human race. And she felt she certainly deserved to be
married. But she bit her bottom lip over the realization that women didn’t
always get what they deserved. Sometimes they got the opposite. She now
wondered what going out with Arnold Winston would bring.

 XXX

 He smelt good, real good, and that was the first thing she
always noticed about a man. Some could only afford cologne which dissipated
after just the first smile. Others could afford the really good stuff, stuff
that lingered tauntingly for the whole evening despite being a mere dab or two.

 He hit a button and the roof of his BMW slid all the way
back.

Arnold’s scent still lingered, and that was even after a
stunning desert of cherries jubilee had been lit with liquor, eaten and mulled
over as the glowing candles flickered sensually off the dark, velvety walls. It
was a restaurant to die for, and he had spared no expense when ensuring she
tried every appetizer in addition to the finest wine.

 He wore a cream colored jacket and a handmade shirt with
such an intricate embroidery that she found it too fascinating not to stare
shamelessly at.

The moon was half full, as was her glass. He had purchased
an extra bottle along with two glasses upon leaving.

“This is the place you wanted to show me?” Marg asked, her
bountiful cleavage shoved under his nose as she snuggled closer, adjusting her
head on his strong broad shoulder.

“Yes. I bought this land some time ago. I plan to eventually
build a cottage here, my own little slice of paradise, actually.”

A smattering of Elm trees cast waving shadows over the
rolling green meadow, and the soothing sound of The Detroit River, rushing to
meet the Great Lakes further upstream, tantalized her ears.

“You own this land?”

“Uh-huh. Fifteen acres on the banks of the river.”

“I have to admit. I’ve seen lots of cottages on lakes before,
especially on the great lakes, but never on a river before.”

“That’s what makes it so unique and breathtaking. So quiet
and out of the way. Honestly, no one ever comes here.”

 “It certainly is very beautiful,” she whispered to him,
knowing he would predictably respond as most men would, but claiming it was
“not half as beautiful as you are.”

 He offered the customary visual praise, then waited for her
to snuggle even closer, which she did. Only she suddenly sat up, and gripped
his face with her long, tan colored nails.

 “I really like you,” she managed, trying not to let her
voice waver or quiver. She was done being used as a doormat. Everything that
Arnold had done up till now during the evening was designed to get her into a
bedroom before the night was through. Only she was tired of seeing an empty bed
once the morning light broke through. “But I am just so tired of the love ‘em
and leave ‘em mentality floating around men’s heads nowadays. Us women have
feelings too.”

 “I think,” he muttered, his words beginning to take him out
onto a long, dangerously thin branch from which there could be no reprieve,
“that you are disappointed in men not because they never stick around, but
because you keep on finding men that don’t want to stick around.”

 “Not sure just what the heck you’re trying to say,” she
ventured softly.

 “What I’m trying to say, is that some of us may be looking
for the same thing you’re looking for.”

 “And just what, pray tell, am I looking for?”

 “A guy who will appreciate your oversexed and stunning
body…a guy who will feel so elevated to have such a mag cover face strolling on
his arm…a guy who will cherish the sweetness of your smile, and the fact you
have the world’s greatest set of legs…a guy who can’t wait to show off his new
girl to all his friends and family…a guy who will love you just as much for
your amazing personality as he will for your amazing figure…”

 “Stop right there,” she demanded, pressing a finger to his
lips. “Why don’t you simply quit while you’re ahead.”

 Her hand left his face and gripped the back of his neck,
pulling his moist lips closer.

 Her mouth enveloped his nervous smile, sending shivers up
his spine. She was signalling that she was willing to take a chance on his
sumptuous words. Whether or not he chose to stick around was something that
only the eventual morning light would reveal.

For now, a half moon and a smattering of stars would provide
their only light.

He tried to get up, but she wanted him to simply sit back
and let her take charge.

His cock felt like heaven in her suddenly squeezing hand. He
wondered how she’d managed such a trick. He hadn’t, after all, either felt or
heard the zipper going down.

Her blouse slipped off her shoulders and her one free hand
miraculously snapped at the clasp that held her bra in place.

His eyes widened at her dangling thick stubby nipples.

He desperately wanted to suck them, and she desperately
wanted to let him.

She dangled them onto his lips, feeling her body shiver with
orgasmic delight as his tongue touched her nipples and his index finger toyed
with her stunned, exploding clitoris.

She was getting that ultra-sweet feeling of Deja-vu all over
again, and there would be little she could do to stop either of them right now.

His cock was suddenly hard as steel in her deadly black
hand, and she was unwilling to wait any longer. She had stifled the urge for
six long months, but now that the barriers to lovemaking had been disengaged,
all she could think about was the heart stopping pleasure that would greet her should
she allow that fleshy steel to part her vaginal lips and stretch her wide open.

His own facial lips intensified their efforts on her sweetly
tortured breasts and she was now wallowing in abject bliss.

“Go ahead, you can put it in,” she begged, whipping off her
skirt and panties as she mounted him and let her exploding pussy juices drip
onto his swirling balls.

Her engorged breasts stayed languishing against his sugary
mouth, and her fingertips tried to steer him directly underneath her hovering
pink hole.

“What are you waiting for?” she pleaded, her chest heaving
with wicked excitement as the man of her dreams let the tip of his cock toy
mercilessly against the edges of her desperate opening.

“Just fishing for a condom,” he explained, pulling one out
of his glove compartment.

She snatched it out of his hand and tossed it away.

“I’m allergic to the latex,” she answered honestly.

 “You mean it irritates your skin?”

 “Worse. It sends me into anaphylactic shock. I also have
deadly sensitivities to spermicides and even most lubes,” she added.

 He was now in a full blown panic. Surely she didn’t think
that he would be able to simply stop thrusting just because it would be time to
sow his baby making oats? But that was exactly what she thought.

“Just pullout on time,” she whispered, going back to kissing
him feverishly. “I’ll buy more pills tomorrow. But it will take them a week or
so to kick in. In the meantime be careful and make sure not to get any inside
is all.”

Her breath was hot and humid, pouring over his mouth and
face, and turning him on wildly.

She went back to holding his stiffened cock in the palm of
her hand, squeezing it skilfully and making him moan from rabid excitement.

Her nipples were now hard as iron, and her skin impossibly hot
as he resumed his sucking. It was her time to moan.

His emerald green eyes were sparkling and magical, gazing
into her face as she coaxed his stunning size back against the opening of her
hovering wet pussy.

He was soon all the way in, and the surge of pleasure so
vivid and robust that a second orgasm was suddenly upon her, bringing sweat and
joyful bliss to every pore of her enraptured body.

It was by far the best night she was ever going to spend in
a topless car.

XXX

After a cozy sleep under the wind swept stars, she had fully
expected him to drive her home come morning light.

But he had other ideas.

“This is not the road leading to the interstate,” she said
inquisitively, but not nervously. Not only was he growing on her, but she implicitly
trusted him.

“There is someplace else I want to show you,” he said
softly, his eyes radiating charm and goodness.

She suddenly felt warm and fuzzy inside. He wasn’t in a rush
to simply dump her stunning looks back at her doorstep. He desperately wanted
to keep her around.

“And where might that be?”

“My bedroom,” he said, manufacturing a smile that seemed far
more genuine than plastic. “If you were that good in my car, then I have to
wonder just how fabulous you’d be in my king size, state of the art bed.”

 “I’m actually at my best when draped over a mahogany
dresser,” she answered coyly.

 He beamed ear to ear and swung the stick shift into high
gear, adding ten more miles per hour to their already volatile speed. He was in
a hurry to get where he was going, and it didn’t escape her attention that
their brief sleep had made him hard as iron once more. She stared at the
delicious rocky bulge.

 “You’re insatiable,” she whispered.

 “Only when in the arms of someone special like you,” he
sweetly retaliated.

 It was becoming evident that he couldn’t get enough of her,
and even more evident that words from his lips were becoming more buttery and
slippery than a damn eels. But his sense of adventure and spontaneity was
riveting, and she cherished each moment in his presence.

 At least sexually speaking, he was quite simply the man of
her dreams, and she had the amazing four orgasms under her belt from the night
before to prove it. So far, he was turning out to be the greatest lover she had
ever had, and that was saying a lot considering the high volume of gifted
playboys she had going through her revolving doors during the past fifteen
years. But it was also the only man she had ever made love without being on the
pill. She now had to also wonder if…

“You going to take more chances on knocking me up again?”
she whispered ominously, a veiled reference to the fact he had not been able to
quench his desire to keep on thrusting when her pussy had become far too sweet
for him to bear. He had indeed unadvisedly managed to fire inside of her. With
a woman like her, it had been hard not to get carried away.

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