Authors: Cairo
Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #General, #African American, #Contemporary Women
My computer
dings
again. I have three new emails. My mind tells me to delete them without opening them; to log off and shut down my PC. But, of course, I don’t. I open the first email:
5’11”, 255 lbs, trim beard, stache, stocky build, moderately hairy, and aggressive. Always in need to have my dick sucked to the extreme! I love a woman who is into my cum. Show it to me in your mouth and all over your tongue, then go back down on my dick and try to suck out another load.
That’s right up my alley,
I think, deleting the note,
but not with you. Your ass is too damn fat!
I move onto the next email:
6’3”, 190 lbs, 6” cut. Black hair, brown eyes. Here’s a pic of my dick. If you like, hit me back.
Before I even open his attachment, I’m already shaking my head, thinking, “no thank you” because of his stats. Don’t get me wrong. I’m by no means a size whore, but let’s face it…a nigga standing at six-three with only a six-inch dick. Hmmph. He better have a ripped body, a thick dick, and be extra damn fine! I click on the
attachment, anyway. When it opens, I blink, blink again. Bring my face closer to the screen and squint. I sigh. His dick is as thin as a No. 2 pencil. Poor thing! I feel myself getting depressed for him.
Delete!
I click on the third email:
Do u really suck a good dick? If so, come over and wrap your lips around my 8-inch dick until I bust off on your face or down in your throat. 29, 6’1, decent build here. Horny as fuck for some mind-blowing head.
I smile. Maybe there’s hope after all, I think, responding back. I type:
No, baby, I’m not a good dick sucker. I’m a great one! Send me a pic of your body and dick so that I know your stats are what you say they are. And if I like what I see, maybe you can find out for yourself.
Two minutes later, he replies back with an attachment. I open it, letting out a sigh of relief as I type.
Beautiful cock! Now when, where, and how can I get at it?
I know, I know, aside from being risky and dangerous, I am aware that what I am doing is dead wrong. No, it’s fucked up! However, I can’t help myself. Okay, damn…maybe I can. But the selfish bitch in me doesn’t want to. I mean, I do try. I’ll go two or three days, even a week—sometimes, two—and I’ll think I’m good; that I’ve kicked this nasty habit. It’s like the minute the clock strikes midnight—the bewitching hour, I become possessed. I turn into a filthy cumslut. In a local park, dark alley, parking lot, public restroom, deserted street in the back of a truck—I want to drop down low and lick, taste, swallow, a thick, creamy nut. Either sucked out or jacked out; drink it from a used condom or a shot glass—I want it to coat my tonsils, and slide down into my throat. Not that I’ve gone to those extremes. Well, not to
all
those extras. But, I’ve come close enough.
And tonight is no different. Here it is almost one a.m. and I should have my ass in bed. Instead, once again, I’m looking to give some good-ass, sloppy, wet head; lick and suck on some balls; deep throat some dick, gag on it. And maybe swallow a nut. Yes, tonight I’m looking for someone who knows how to throat fuck a greedy, dick-sucking bitch like me. I’m looking for someone who knows how to fuck my mouth as if they were fucking my pussy, deep-stroking that pipe down into my gullet until my eyes start to water.
Ding!
He replies back:
You can get this cock, now! No games, no BS, just a hot nut going down in your throat. I’m at the Edison Sheraton. Room 238.
I respond, practically drooling:
I’m on my way. Be there in 30 mins.
I get up from my computer desk, slip out of my silk robe, tossing it over onto my American Drew California-king sleigh bed. Standing naked in front of my full-length mirror, I like…no, love, what I see: full, luscious lips; perky, C-cup tits; small, tight waist; firm, plump ass; and smooth, shapely legs. I slip into a hot pink Juicy Couture track-suit, then grab my black and pink Air Max’s. I pin my hair up, before placing a black Juicy fitted on my head, pulling it down over my face and flipping up the hood of my jacket. I grab my bag and keys, then head down the stairs and out the door to suck down on some cock. I glance at my watch. It’s 2:24 a.m.
Hope this nigga’s dick is worth the trip.