The Education of Donovan (2 page)

        Was she joking?

        “Yes, why don’t you do that?” Although he sounded like a man in charge, Donovan knew that to be so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. Oh, what the hell. In for a penny... “Don’t stop touching yourself. I want you to make yourself come as you suck me off.”

        The words were foreign to him. He’d always wanted to say them, like in the
pornos
he sometimes snuck off to watch in the middle of the night.

        “
Ummm
, yeah, baby. I like the way you think.”

        Once her lips wrapped around his cock, Donovan had to fight not to explode. So hot! So sweet! Not even a small scrape of teeth. She sucked with vigor, making his balls pull tight in a throbbing need to come. God, he didn’t want to come. His hand went to her hair, fisting it in an attempt to pull back, but only managed to use the silken ropes to pull her down on his cock. Somewhere in the back of his mind he seemed to remember someone mentioning black women didn’t like their hair touched. Maybe Tamika from work, another African American dream he
spend
too many nights fantasizing about.
Cha’Relle
didn’t seem to mind. She moaned around his dick, causing a vibrating sensation to race right to the base of his scrotum. He had to stop her...in just a minute...

        “Oh, no, you’re not about to come on me. Not before we get to the good stuff.”

Donovan blinked, trying to gather coherent thoughts. He’d been close, so very close. Now he watched, his cock cold as she moved away, peeling the skintight mini dress from her body. The only thing under the clinging piece of clothing was a bra that pushed her breasts up but barely contained them. The dark, espresso-colored areolas were clearly visible above the satin covering. Soon that was gone too, leaving her gloriously bare. Holy shit, what a body! Donovan didn’t know women were shaped like that anymore; she reminded him of a pinup girl or a 1950s starlet. She was soft and full in all the right places, her belly softly rounded outward. It brought to mind fertility rites and making babies. Her bones didn’t stick out at all angles. She was welcoming, an invitation for a man to take his pleasure.

Rummaging through a side drawer, she threw him a little tin packet,
then
spread herself out on the bed. With her legs spread wide, he could clearly see how much she wanted this. Once more his mouth watered, needing to taste her secrets. There was nothing standing his way, and he wasn’t about to let this chance go by.

Crawling between her thighs, he lowered his head to her waiting pussy, his tongue lapping at the moisture that escaped from her slit. The tang of her essence coated his tongue, driving him to probe deeper.
Aww
, hell, she was sweet. Swiveling hips smashed her crotch against his face, making it difficult to breathe, but Donovan didn’t care. The unabashed sounds of pleasure she made were air enough; the way she pulled at his hair as she ground out her enjoyment sustained him. How long had it been since he’d eaten pussy? He couldn’t remember. Damn, he missed it, missed this. He didn’t stop, not even after the first wave of her orgasm was greedily swallowed. Determined, he made her come twice more until she was screaming in ecstasy. Only then did he rise and quickly don the condom she’d thrown his way.

He wanted her on her hands and knees so he could watch her magnificent ass as he drove into her. He wanted her on top of him so he could suckle
those bountiful breast
as she rode him. Hell, he wanted her nine ways from Sunday, but he would start here, with her on her back. Grapping her ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and shoved inside. He’d always wanted to do that too, just never had a—

Fuck
!
Cha’Relle
may have been a walking sex pot, but her pussy was almost as tight as a virgin’s. No way
this was
a road well traveled. His head swam with the implications. This wasn’t something she did a lot.
Couldn’t possibly be.
The knowledge had the opposite effect from what he would’ve expected. Instead of making him back off, it incensed him, causing him to pound into her harder, faster. The walls of her channel clung to him, milked him, but he couldn’t come. Not yet. With a tormented growl, he managed to pull himself away from the heaven/hell of her cunt. Oh, he was a long way from done, but need to have her every way.

“I want you to ride me.” The confidence in his words was new. Donovan barely recognized himself. His sexy neighbor had awakened a part of him that had lain dormant his entire life. He was a man, damn it. The role he was meant to perform was conqueror, pillager. He would take what he wanted, what he needed. And this was a real woman, one who wasn’t afraid to take and receive pleasure. No negotiation, just this—her lush figure climbing on top of him and sliding down on his cock without batting an eyelash. The tightness
cause
him to grunt, thrusting up to make sure he was embedded to the hilt. He was in charge; he had this.

Then she began to move. No simple up and down, jogging his dick.
Cha’Relle
rolled her hips, grinding down on him then whirling her hips in circles while her hand reached behind her to cup his balls, holding them in a firm grip. The sensations were beyond amazing. His cock swelled and jumped inside her, his balls tightening as if he was going to come, but her grip wouldn’t allow it.
His entire body quivered, helpless to do more than surge upward in wild abandon.
More, more, more.
He wanted this woman harder, deeper. Fuck, it was all too much; his head pounded as hard as his cock.

“Do you like that, baby? Am I making you
feel
good?”

Did he say he was an all-powerful male? In the face of almighty woman, he was nothing. He was merely putty in her hands. What had made him think he was in any way in charge? His dick was firmly implanted in the tightest, hottest, juiciest pussy on earth. The three things shouldn’t go together, but yet here he was captive to the sucking pull her cunt had on his cock. All he could do was lay there and feel. His hips bucked involuntarily. Shit, he needed to come, wanted to come, but her grip on his balls wouldn’t allow it.

This would not do. There was no guarantee he was ever going to get this chance again. As exquisite as it felt to have this goddess of a woman in total control, Donovan couldn’t allow it to end this soon. Closing his eyes against the steady barrage of sensations she inspired, he flipped her off him, his cock protesting as he wrenched it out of her smoldering pussy. Grasping
Cha’Relle
around the waist, he flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her up to her knees.

“Do
you
like
this
?” he ground out as he thrust inside her without mercy from behind.

“
Yes
!” The half scream, half groan was answer enough, but the way her cunt clamped down on him was beyond words.

Like a man possessed, he slammed inside her, over and over again, moaning with abandon at the way she gripped him, hugged him. Sweat dripped from both their bodies, the rich aroma of unbridled lust heavy in the air. Donovan breathed it in, savored every sensation. The fervid need for release clawed up his back, strained his thighs,
strangled
his scrotum in impossible pressure. Just a little more...just a little...

“
Fuck
!”
Cha’Relle
screamed, convulsing.

Donovan felt her shudder around him, the molten liquid of her orgasm so fucking hot, it felt as if it might melt the condom right off his dick. That was it—all he could take. He roared his release, forging forward with all his might. The cushion of her ass bounced him away only to welcome him back as she ground, slammed, retreated, and repeated until she had drained every last drop from him.

Damn! This was a whole other world Donovan had never been privy to. The guilt he’d fully anticipated didn’t rush forth as he’d assumed it might after all was said and done. Not while
Cha’Relle
gently removed the condom, going into the bathroom and returning with a towel to gently wipe him clean. Not even when she placed a light kiss on his lips and gave him the sweetest, sad smile.

“I guess you better go,” she whispered, running a manicured hand down his chest.

Just a simple touch, but his ass
clenched,
every nerve suddenly alive and aching for her touch. This was no love connection; he wasn’t that naïve. However, there was something here, something that was decidedly absent in
his own
apartment. The thought of going home left him... Well, he felt nothing. No guilt, no sorrow—just not looking forward to it in general. He liked Mary, he realized, but love? His life was comfortable. Now, perhaps, he wasn’t looking for comfort. Maybe he wanted the hot and wild, not just the mellow and familiar.

Either way, he had crossed a line, and he was going to have to tell Mary. That was something he did dread. Coming into
Cha’Relle’s
apartment had been a betrayal, but still he could not regret it.

“I...” What could he say? He didn’t love her any more than she loved him. That was crazy. But he had enjoyed every second. Still, saying,
“Hey, great fuck,”
wasn’t exactly tasteful, was it?

“You don’t have to say anything,” she saved him by interjecting. “It was a hell of a good time. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t welcome you back.
Even though...
Well, you can come back any time.”

No playing like things weren’t the way they were, no histrionics, just a straight acknowledgement of a good time and an invitation back. If only someone had told him women like this existed, his life might have been a hell of a lot different.

“Thanks.”

Leaving was hard.
Cha’Relle
didn’t get dressed other than to throw on a T-shirt that was long enough to almost cover her ass, but so tight it clung to her curves. Getting dressed took Donovan a hell of a lot longer than stripping had. Hell, he only vaguely remembered tearing off his clothes. While she lounged on the bed, his eyes returned to her over and over, like she was some kind of human magnet. All kinds of erotic thoughts rushed around in his head, colliding with one another before settling into a cohesive fantasy. How he’d love to pull a comfy chair to the edge of the bed and watch her play. Legs spread, bare and glistening, red-tipped nails running over mocha skin. Watching as she pinched and twisted those blackberry nipples. By the time he was fully clothed, he was rock hard again, throbbing with the need to take her again.

He had to go. With one lingering kiss he was gone, too afraid to look back. There was only so much temptation a man could take. Any more
lingering,
and leaving wouldn’t be an option.

Walking the few feet to his apartment door was more like a stroll toward an execution chamber. Dread crawled up his back, snaked around his chest, and clutched his heart with icy claws. Clutching his keys in hand, he unlocked and opened the front door as if he were sneaking in. In a way he was, though that made no sense. Mary was undoubtedly home; she hated going about the city without him. Hell, she hated the city. Sneaking in would do him no good.

Only Mary wasn’t in the front room when he finally stepped through the door. Nor was she in the kitchen. Having grown up on a farm, Mary was an early riser, always finding things to do to keep her busy throughout the day. It made him feel shitty coming home to a spotless apartment day after day, a fresh-cooked meal, and a wife who rarely smiled anymore. A couple of times he’d suggested she find at least part-time work so she wasn’t slaving around the apartment all day. She’d always refused. His wife was so different from the women in his office. It was kind of like she lived in a time warp and refused to be pulled into the twenty-first century no matter how much he tried.

Walking down the hall to the bedroom, Donovan became conscious of things he had been too preoccupied to notice when he’d first come in. There was soft music playing, coming from the bedroom, but that didn’t quite disguise the soft, feminine groans also coming from the room, or the squeaking of the old bed, a gift from Mary’s grandmother as they were moving. Donovan stilled, his senses going on high alert. Those were a female’s sighs of pleasure, all right, but no sound of a male was evident.

A slow, sly smile came to his lips.
Mary masturbating?
She certainly had never done anything like that when he was around. Finding his wife had a little bit of a wild side filled him with hope. Maybe with some counseling, a little communication, they could open up a whole new sex life. It didn’t dismiss what he had done, but he was willing to work on it if she would forgive him. Sure, it would be hard work, but anything was worth it if it meant having a better sex life.