Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 (21 page)

I entered the comfort of the black vehicle, smelling the pungent odor of the beige leather upholstery. I threw my burgundy leather briefcase, along with my newspaper, on the passenger seat while studying the black lace panties wrapped around the gearshift. Beside the women’s undergarments, there was another folded note with my name on it.

I unbuttoned the bottom button of my navy blue blazer, reached into my pocket, and grabbed my spectacles again. I picked up the letter and began to read:

Dear Brendan,

This is not your typical dinner party. So please don’t waste your time dreading this evening. I guarantee you will never say I’m not spontaneous or adventurous again in your life. The panties are just a sample.

Love, Sandra

I’m embarrassed to admit my dick grew a few inches rapidly. I grabbed the panties from the gearshift and stretched them apart to get a better look. There is something about women’s lingerie that turns me on. I mean turning me on with a capital
T
. I examined them with a keen eye. My dick was throbbing and screaming for an orgasm. All in a matter of minutes, I was contemplating masturbation, something I enjoy a little too much.

I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, causing me to conceal the panties next to me. Turning around, I realized
that it was just my neighbor to my right, carrying his trash to the front, so I picked the panties back up and continued to study them. They were silk and see-through, with lace running all around the outside of the fabric, and a black silk string was tied into a bow just above the crotch area. They were definitely an undergarment for an intimate setting. Bashfully, I put the crotch area to my nose and sniffed lightly, hoping to get a whiff of my lady’s sweetness. I am sprung and not afraid to admit it. Besides my porno-watching addiction and my desire to relieve myself, Sandra is my all and all.

I snatched the panties away from my nose quickly. I knew that the scent did not belong to my wife. My big head came to life instantly, causing my little head to wonder if he should still remain erect. I was confused, and I knew I was not mistaken. My face had been in the place too much. I knew the fragrance of my wife’s pussy from a mile away. I had sniffed her panties a thousand times. I suddenly realized they were not even my wife’s size. These were another woman’s underwear and she smelled delectable.

My mind was racing at a rapid pace. I was not sure how I was supposed to react. But, honestly, I was certainly aroused and craving to satisfy myself. My wife has caught me numerous times watching pornography and stroking my manhood. She believes that there is nothing wrong with satisfying yourself. Sandra is very open minded as well as free spirited. She just teases me a lot about all of the black women I seem to get off on. My wife is mulatto. She just seems to identify more with her white heritage.

I started my car, placed the panties in the inside pocket of my blazer, and headed off to work. I was convinced at that moment that my wife was simply toying with me, based on a
discussion we’d had earlier this week. She caught me masturbating to an adult film starring two women in a lesbian scene. I really enjoy girl-on-girl footage. It seems to excite me more than anything else. But anyway, she asked me if I had ever experienced a threesome. I smiled, knowing she already knew the answer to her own question. I still answered out of respect, even though I wanted to say, “I wish.” She then asked me, “Would you participate if given the chance?” I laughed, telling her yes if she was one of the women. She smiled and walked away, leaving me with my dick in my hand. I yelled after her, telling her she was not as spontaneous or adventurous as these porno stars and that was the reason why I loved her so much. Even though I was jacking off to them.

So, I knew this had to be a prank my lady was pulling on me. Obviously, she had acquired some woman’s panties and sprayed a fragrance on them in an attempt to see how much she really meant to me. The games women play at times are hilarious. I knew that she was just trying to make me feel good about a boring dinner party this evening.

PART II

I arrived in front of a huge home located on the outskirts of the city, nestled in a cul-de-sac surrounded by a thick wooded area—a brick colonial with a two-car garage and a well-kept landscape. It looked extremely expensive.

I noticed my wife’s gray Lexus parked beside a candy apple red Jaguar with custom plates that read Ms. Jones. I knew I had the right home.

My day had been long and exhausting to a certain degree. It
had taken all of my strength to not give my wife a call. I really was not up to your typical dinner party. But I was definitely famished and looking forward to eating. Hopefully, there was something that I could identify with on the dinner menu.

I exited my vehicle and walked toward the home, admiring the beauty of the numerous colors of lilies and daffodils on display. Reaching the heavy varnished oak door, I looked for the doorbell. To my surprise, there was another note taped just above the doorbell. I thought to myself,
What the fuck is going on?
Extracting my glasses from my shirt pocket, I began to read a list of directions, the first one telling me to come inside, the door was unlocked. I twisted the knob and stepped in cautiously. At this moment, I had no idea what was going on.

I walked into a dramatic, two-story foyer with two staircases opposite each other and a massive chandelier suspended from a cathedral-type ceiling. As I stood on the immaculate hardwood floors, I surveyed the opulence.

The next set of instructions led me into a cherry wood kitchen with a huge island and granite countertops. I was told to loosen my tie and have a drink to unwind. Fortunately, there was a bottle of Rémy Martin on the table along with two glasses and a bucket of ice. This was certainly my drink—I loved to drink cognac and chase it down with ice water. So, I fixed my stiff drink and looked around in the stillness of the home. Within a matter of twenty minutes, I was buzzing. I guzzled another full glass and noticed soft music coming from a distance.

The note directed me upstairs to what appeared to be the master bedroom. I walked inside to soft jazz and a hell of a layout. I’m talking about a bedroom fit for a king. The walls were painted eggshell white. The finish was extra smooth so I figured it to be the best money could buy. My burgundy loafers sank
into the plush beige carpet as I eyed the cherry oak furnishings, including the king-size sleigh bed. To top it off, there was a flat screen television at least sixty-four to seventy-two inches wide against the wall in front of the bed, with an incredible entertainment system. I was apparently in the lap of luxury.

Draped across the bed was a man’s black robe along with what appeared to be my personal initialed hygiene bag. I picked it up to verify the contents and confirmed that it was. Honestly, I felt a little better for some strange reason. It made me feel comfortable to know something belonged to me in this unfamiliar setting. All at once, I began to believe that this was a special rendezvous. Maybe some friend of my wife’s owned this place and she was trying to spice up our sex game a bit by adding a little suspense to things. Between her schedule and mine, our love life was not what it should have been. But when it was, it was always great.

Adjacent to the bedroom was the master bathroom. The next set of instructions instructed me to shower thoroughly and await my surprise from the comfort of the bed. I showered and baby-oiled my body, paying close attention to my chest and legs. I’m in great condition, even though I don’t work out as much as I used to. I rubbed my inner thighs and my private area, feeling a little stubble around my crotch. I shave my pubic hair all the time. It is something I don’t care for. My wife teases me all the time about my feminine hygiene ways. I wished I would have shaved.

I stepped back into the bedroom, oiling my bald head and anticipating my surprise, wearing nothing except the robe that fit a little too loosely. As I took a seat on the bed, I noticed the television was on and the screen was blue. Then all of a sudden, it came to life and my wife was on the screen before me.

Sandra spoke, “Hello, baby. I hope you’re comfortable and not irritated. I know you’re wondering what this is all about and
soon you will see. I just ask that you guide me through this process and let me know how far you would like me to go.”

I watched my wife speak to me through the television. I was captivated by her beauty. Her light skin glistened underneath lights illuminating the room. She sat on what appeared to be a nice sized bed with her legs crossed Indian style, wearing just a pink T-shirt. She grinned sheepishly as if she wasn’t sure of what was going on. Her shoulder-length black hair was pulled back, giving her a younger look. I was definitely turned on. I watched her slim face and hazel eyes as she explained to me that she could also see and hear me. I was astounded by what was going on.

She asked, “Would you like for me to begin?”

I nodded and answered yes. Watching as she reached behind her back and retrieved what appeared to be a vibrator in the shape of an erect penis, I smiled and licked my lips as she removed her T-shirt, revealing perfect-shaped breasts with deep purple nipples. She started the vibrator and ran it seductively over her chest as she parted her legs.

“Take off your robe,” she whispered.

I removed it, never taking my eyes off the screen. I looked at her part her pretty pussy and bite her bottom lip. I could see her insides, thanks to high definition. She squirmed underneath the vibrator as she massaged her clitoris. My dick was as hard as Chinese arithmetic. I could feel myself beginning to perspire and to say I was horny would have been an understatement. I wanted to touch her. I asked, “Where are you? Come to me.”

She continued to work the vibrator, making pleasurable noises, saying, “Not yet . . . Not yet, Brendan . . . but if you want me to spice it up, say yes.”

I couldn’t refuse, my hormones were jumping. I said, “Yes . . . please.”

That was when she appeared, standing at least five feet six inches, a little taller than my wife. Her hair was cut low, revealing a round ebony face. She stood with her hands on her wide, child-bearing hips, peering into the camera with almond-shaped eyes. Her body was perfect, with her private parts covered by a matching silk bra and panty set the hue of lavender. She was sexy and I had never seen her before.

She spoke. “Do you mind if I help her out?”

I couldn’t believe what was going on before my eyes. I stammered over my words, “Yeah . . . umm . . . go ahead . . . why not?”

She removed the vibrator from my wife’s hand and kneeled in front of her, showing the thong between the cheeks of her round ass. She rubbed Sandra’s thighs and played with her wet pussy while I watched. I was ecstatic to see my wife being turned on by another woman. Unknowingly, my hand was wrapped around my dick and I was stroking it slowly.

“I see you, Brendan . . . I see you,” I heard Sandra say, pushing her hips toward the electronic stimulant. As the mysterious woman stopped all of a sudden, she took her underclothes off.

“Can I kiss her, Brendan?” she asked seductively.

I nodded in agreement, looking for the baby oil so I could lubricate my dick. Finding it, I squirted some on my right hand and went to work, watching as she held Sandra in her arms, tongue kissing her softly.

I watched my wife watching me, and then she asked, “Do you want me to go all the way with her?”

How could I refuse, being caught up in the moment? I gave her my nod of approval and watched as they went into action.

The mysterious woman straddled her and kissed her breasts, making her way toward her navel. Sandra blushed and shivered underneath her touch. As the woman parted Sandra’s vulva and
darted her tongue into her wetness, she gripped her ass and pulled her toward her face. The moans were enough to excite me, but the sight was sending me over the top.

I was stroking my manhood hard and massaging my balls at the same time, definitely holding back an orgasm.

They were in the sixty-nine position now, giving each other oral pleasure. With the mysterious woman on top, I could see the juices from her insides run down her legs. She was in a frenzy, bucking her hips against my wife’s face and licking her moistness at the same time. Both were peeping into the camera from time to time, cheering me on as I masturbated.

I had never been so excited in my life and I wanted to join so bad. I asked, “Can I join you . . . ooh, baby . . . Can I join you?”

She screamed, “As soon as you cum, baby . . . as soon as you cum.”

I was gripping my dick hard and stroking fast. I could feel the tingling sensation as it made its way from my balls up through my shaft to the head of my dick. I closed my eyes to the sexual noises and kept stroking. I jerked and caressed my balls while unloading my load all over the bed.

I was in a fog when I came to my senses. All I heard was my wife’s voice. She was standing over me, speaking, yet I could not hear her.

“Brendan . . . wake up . . . wake up, Brendan.”

Finally, I came to my senses and saw that Sandra was pointing at my stained boxers. It had all been a dream. Everything was just a dream. She shook her head and handed me a piece of paper. It was the directions to your typical dinner party.

She walked away saying, “Brendan, you should control yourself better. You were jacking off in your sleep.”

Asali

CHAPTER 1

I loved my job. Not that it was the most glamorous or prestigious work, but the people who came in were almost always in a good mood. Usually they had just come back from vacation, a family function, witnessing the birth of their newborn, or some type of memorable celebration. I helped them create tangible memories of those milestones in their lives. Here they could pick out frames, have photos matted, create cards, and receive their pictures in an hour. It wasn’t hard work; computers performed the majority and I just packaged the items and assisted the customers with picking from available options. Most times they were in and out; everyone likes things done fast in this world. Sometimes they wanted life-sized cutouts or personalized gifts, which took a bit longer but customers were always grateful and satisfied with their purchases. For the occasional mishap with our machine or their camera, the customer always had the option not to buy the finished product. Happiness, one hundred percent guaranteed.