AllisonHobbs's Blog

I watched a TV show last night called, Dating in the Dark where contestants have to get to know each other and hopefully develop a romantic interest based on vocal quality and personality. They all paired off with the person of his or her choice but still didn't get to see each other, just kicked it in the dark. Couples even danced together in the dark.

At the finale they all get to see each other and have to decide if they want to continue the relationship that was based on shared interests and emotional chemistry. Most of the contestants had preconceived ideas of how their chosen partner looked and were very disappointed when the lights came on. Sort of like internet dating.

Have you ever developed a relationship with a screen name? Experience taking it to the it to the next level of phone conversation? It's all good, right? Then you meet the person in person and they are not what you expected? My question...are looks important? Can a relationship flourish when there's no physical attraction?

I'm gon keep this short and to the point. Are there any men out there with submissive tendencies? If so, I need a freak on a leash for Friday, July 17th at 10pm in NYC I you want to indulge your inner freaky and get collared and leased in a public setting, email: cyoungfoye@aol.com Hurry up and make your request known. Allison Hobbs

PREVIEW CHAPTER PURE PARADISE

BY ALLISON HOBBS

Responding to Milan’s urgent tone, Royce, the security guard, rushed to the consultation room. His hand was on his gun, clinking and clanging metal cuffs dangled at his side. His head turned back and forth swiftly, making the loose skin of his jowls swing in the air.

With his badge, big and gleaming and with the excessive layers of wrinkled facial skin, he reminded Milan of the old cartoon character, Deputy Dawg. Royce’s eyes, anxious and wide, swept the room searching for the source of Milan’s distress.

Finding nothing out of order, he cocked his head quizzically. “What’s wrong, Miss Walden?” Breathless from running down several flights of stairs, Royce wiped perspiration from his forehead.

“Nothing’s wrong!” she spat, annoyed by the inquiry. “I’m experiencing a personal crisis.” Milan leaned back in the chair. Brushing her fingertips against the silk top that concealed her small breasts, she drew the security guard’s attention to her protruding nipples.

Clipping the twin pearls between her fingers, she displayed her state of arousal.

Hit with sudden enlightenment, Royce exclaimed, “Oh!”

Milan rose and stuck out her hand. “Give me your cuffs, Deputy Dawg,” she taunted.

Royce’s face dropped. Visibly impacted by the cruel nick name his boss had given him, shame and sorrow caused his face to sag even worse. Resignedly, he unhooked the handcuffs from his belt loop and handed them to Milan.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, wearing a wicked smile. Then she sauntered to the other side of the desk and cuffed the beleaguered security guard. “I want to try something different today. Let’s see how well you perform without the use of your hands.”

More perspiration dotted Royce’s forehead. He looked miserable as he tried to keep his balance. Slowly and quite shakily, he lowered himself to the floor. Milan inched up her tight skirt and snaked her hand between her legs.

Her pussy, aroused from the conversation with the Tamburro’s, was hot and overly moist. She pulled her thong to the side and ran the length of her palm up and down her slippery entrance. Sighing with pleasure, she withdrew her hand and presented Royce with her cupped palm, which she proceeded to fit over his mouth. “Have you been a good boy today?”

As he was supposed to do, Royce slackened his jaw and nodded on cue. “Excellent.” She rubbed her palm against his lips. “Here’s a little pussy treat for you.” She closed her eyes as Royce darted out his extremely long and wide tongue.

Quick tongue flicks sent naughty tingles up her spine. Slowly and sensually, Royce lathed her cupped palm until it unfurled in surrender. Royce was not easy on the eyes and had zero sex appeal. He’d worked two or more jobs most of his adult life. Money worries, limited exercise, and too much fast food had Royce looking ten years older than his actual thirty-nine years.

An abundance of taste buds covered the surface of his tongue. It was a birth defect but for Milan’s purposes, his deformity was a blessing. His roughened tongue felt like moist sandpaper as it brushed against Milan’s smooth palm. The sensation was ticklish and oddly tantalizing—both gross and stimulating at the same time. As he swiped her flesh with his harsh and bumpy tongue, her nipples tightened to the point of feeling like unbearably hard pebbles.

Murmuring softly, she lifted her bra and fondled her small breasts. Her soft sighs were accompanied by Royce’s loud lapping. Her pussy contracted as hot passion trickled out. “Eat it!” Milan smashed her open palm against his mouth, grinding it harshly, commanding him to increase the tempo and intensity of his tongue strokes.

Royce licked harder and faster, panting and groaning in a manner so vile and yet seductive, Milan could feel more cream oozing out of her pussy. Royce knew exactly how to appeal to her freakier side. Royce licked her opened hand until it gleamed and then narrowed his long tongue into a curl, driving it in and out of the spaces between her fingers, making a ghastly groan with each slimy poke of his tongue.

This is so crude and depraved. Depraved or not, Milan couldn’t help from moaning blissfully. With tension building, she hopped up on the desk and hitched up her skirt. “Take my thong off.”

Relieved to dispense with the handcuffs, Royce cracked a smile. “Unlock ’em. The key’s in my pocket.”

“No! Be creative.” She scooted toward the edge of the desk, leaned back and rested on her elbows.

With hands cuffed behind his back, Royce rose unsteadily. He buried his face in Milan’s crotch and began tearing at the lacy fabric with his teeth.

“Hurry up!” she ordered. Growling now, he savagely ripped away the delicate fabric and held the lacy thong between clenched teeth. With the torn lace dangling out of the side of his mouth, he looked disgusting and rabid. Ooo, this is so freaky and wonderful! Milan felt like clapping with glee. Royce was behaving like an angry beast and she got shivers imagining his lengthy tongue lashing her cunt.

She drew her legs up and clasped the back of her knees, spreading open her pussy, and giving her cuffed captive ample access to her flooding tunnel. He penetrated her lush lips, plunged inside, filling Milan with the unusual length and thickness of his tongue. She moaned as she humped his coarse appendage. His rough tongue scavenged inside her walls, scratching her itch and then scraping across her clit.

She shuddered in pre-orgasmic pleasure. Royce’s tongue became still. Milan bristled. “Finish licking, I didn’t tell you to stop!”

“Um…your juice is gushing, Miss Walden. I was getting ready to suction it out for you,” he explained.

“Well, get to it,” she snapped. “I was going to, but I noticed some gook sticking on your leg…I wasn’t sure—”

“Royce! Your long flexible tongue has many responsibilities. I expect you to take care of whatever needs to be done. Now, shut your trap before I march you down to the paddling room. I’ll give you a severe spanking that you won’t soon forget. Is that what you want?”

“No, Miss Walden. Please,” he muttered. “I don’t want a spanking; I just wanted your opinion on what I should handle first.”

Milan struggled upright and glared at Royce. “I didn’t notice you asking my opinion when you unceremoniously escorted me off these premises last year,” she said reminding him of the humiliating day when she was fired from Pure Paradise.”

“I’m sorry Miss Walden. It wasn’t personal. I was just doing my job.”

“Well, do your job now.” She leaned back, resuming a reclining position. Royce stretched open his mouth and extended his elongated muscular organ. With forceful stokes, he lapped at the smeared passion that was congealing on her supple inner thigh.

Using his tongue as a cleaning utensil, he swished and mopped the area until it was spotless. Then he attached puckered lips to Milan’s heated entry, carefully sipping her juices, stimulating her, attempting to make her passion boil over. Milan purred and arched her back as Royce slurped large puddles of lust.

As she writhed on his tongue, he began to greedily guzzle her hot liquid. He made loud gurgling, and slurping sounds. His audible swallowing sharpened her arousal. Skillfully, he once again curled his tongue and narrowed until it was pointed and firm.

He drove it in and out, penetrating her center of paradise. Stretching his moist and erect tongue, he probed, flicking against her vaginal walls, sweeping the roof of her canal, urgently searching for her special spot.

Preparing for sharp pangs of pleasure, Milan gripped the sides of the desk and scrunched up her face as she waited for Royce to locate her hidden treasure.

Royce was the only man who could hit Milan’s G-spot with his tongue. She could feel tension building as his twisting appendage grew closer to the mark. Testing, he gave the pad of flesh he’d discovered, a tentative touch with the tip of his tongue. Milan responded with a tiny yelp. Wanting more, she scooted closer, clamping her knees against Royce’s jawbone.

“Are you ready, Miss Walden?” His breath tickled and excited her. She tightened her knee-lock. Milan couldn’t care less if she crushed Royce’s jawbone.

Desperate to be free, Royce lathed the sensitive, raised skin. Milan squirmed and whimpered as her captive stroked her spot unrelentingly, licking the walls of her pussy without mercy.

A rush of heat filled her loins. Milan screamed and then squirted. Ejaculating like a man, she shot several hot blasts of cum into Royce’s mouth.

Copyright 2009 Allison Hobbs

HELLO EVERYONE,

I've been away for awhile. I have to create the very finest hot erotica and that takes research and concentration. Just completed a manuscript last week and as I catch my breath and get ready for my adult book release party in July 09, I thought I'd come thru Blackplanet with some things that have been on my mind.

I recently had my bedroom redone. Pink Walls...Scrumptious Pink to be exact. The painters questioned my judgment on such a vibrant, feminine color, suggesting that any male who shared these quarters might feel unwelcome... that I was sending a message:

This is my private sanctuary, so don't get too comfortable up in this dip. No manly items are allowed to linger too long.

That wasn't the statement I was making, I was just indulging my spirit. So...my question: Does the color or theme of ones bedroom convey a hidden message? And men, could you kick back and relax inside my pink walls?

Smooches,

ALLISON HOBBS

ONE TASTE By Allison Hobbs

Shawna emitted moans of desire when he revealed that he was working with thirteen thick-azz inches.

However, a few days later, when Cochise was ready to hit it and tried to ease just the head of his dick into her tight opening, she cried out in pain.

“It hurts. Stop! It’s too big. I can’t do it!”

“Calm down, ma. I’m just gonna give a little bit of the head, aiight?”

Shawna nodded uncertainly.

When Cochise started stirring up her juices with his rounded cap, Shawna relaxed. Trying to be brave, she parted her legs a little wider.

Cochise was tempted to force the entire bulbous head of his dick inside her moisture, but exercising self control, he kept his word and inserted just a portion of the rounded tip. After a few moments, Cochise withdrew from her too-tight opening. He slathered lubricant on Shawna’s soft, warm inner thighs, and guided himself into a space between them.

As his long appendage glided in and out of Shawna’s moisture-slick flesh, the shaft stroked her puzzy lips and the huge, mushroom- capped head caressed her clit. With his dick cushioned between her thighs, Cochise worked up a pulsating rhythm and Shawna matched every driving thrust. Ready to explode but not wanting to leave his partner unfulfilled, Cochise stopped pumping.

He sat up and gently spread her female lips. “Mmm!” The sound came out in a throaty growl. The puzzy was hot and juicy, looked like it was begging for some dick. Maybe Shawna could handle a couple inches. Looking at her soft pinkness made him bite his lip to suppress a loud groan .

His pulsing dick had him so disoriented, he grabbed his manhood and started aiming for the source of warmth, momentarily unconcerned about inflicting pain or causing bodily harm.

“No,” Shawna yelled, jolting Cochise to his senses.

Looking frightened, she bolted up. “I can’t do it. I can’t take all that dick!”

He looked at the monstrous dick in his hand and released it. “I’m sorry. I know you can’t handle all this,” Cochise said soothingly. “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he assured her. “I just want you to make you feel good. Aiight, ma? Trust me. Aiight?” His voice held a pleading tone.

Warily, Shawna eased back. Her legs were tense and trembled in fear. Cochise kissed her neck, softly grazed each nipple with his teeth, and then moved downward, his long hair sweeping Shawna’s torso, giving her an intense tingling sensation as if a dozen feathers caressed her body.

Urging Shawna to trust him, Cochise kissed her puzzy and then separated her labia even wider than before, as if preparing her tunnel for deep penetration. She shuddered and murmured sounds that were a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Relax, ma,” he whispered, his breath warming the pink flesh of her opened puzzy, causing it to contract with desire. Cochise slid his shaft against her moist opening and massaged her swollen clit with the colossal helmet of his dick, giving Shawna dual pleasure.

Motivated by pleasure, Shawna threw her legs tightly around Cochise’s back, pulling him closer, gaining better access to the tantalizing friction.

Losing possession of her rational mind, she screamed, “Give it to me hard!” Shawna wasn’t thinking clearly. Hot puzzy had a way of making a woman talk shyt she couldn’t back up. Cochise, now in control of his libido, knew better than to give in to Shawna’s desire.

Without having her puzzy walls sufficiently stretched, he knew she could end up in the emergency room with internal bleeding or badly damaged female organs. Cochise allowed himself to be pulled in by Shawna’s insistent thighs, but he refused to penetrate.

Maintaining self control, he stroked her parted puzzy until he created friction that was so intense, Shawna moaned and clawed at his muscular shoulders and then raked her nails across his well-developed back.

Her body trembled. Her creamy nectar coated the head of his dick and then trickled down his shaft. “Please,” she murmured, needing sexual release so badly she was willing to endure the pain of penetration from his mighty weapon.

Unwilling to risk messing up her insides, he licked the puzzy until her body quaked.

After Shawna’s heart rate slowed down, she sat up, intending to return the favor. She guided Cochise’s thickness to her mouth. He entered the warm, moist place slowly, rubbing the cap of his dick against the soft insides of her cheeks.

With her tongue, she circled the portion of his length that fit inside her mouth and put a suction hold around his girth. Her lips puckered around his rigid flesh. Though she could take in only a little more than a quarter of his length, her mouth worked on his hard meat, slurping and contracting like a vagina.

Cochise wished he could push his dick all the way in. He’d never experienced the sensation of having his entire dick inside a woman’s mouth. He took rapid breaths, imagining Shawna’s lips wrapped around the base, his nuts brushing against her chin.

The mental picture excited him, made his dick thump in preparation of jetting out a rush of semen. It would have been polite to ask if she swallowed, but Cochise was too far gone to think about good manners. Groaning, he ejaculated inside her warm mouth. It felt so good, he had to restrain himself from verbally thanking her.

Speaking those words would have been corny as hell, so he let his loud moan convey his gratitude when he received the added pleasure of feeling her constricting throat as she swallowed his gushing load.

For a while, Shawna accepted their no-strings-attached sexual encounters, assuring Cochise that commitment was the last thing on her mind. But that was a few months ago. Today, judging by the look on Shawna’s face after they’d had sex, the situation had clearly changed.

“Are you leaving already?” Shawna sounded disgruntled as she lay naked, curled on her side.

“Yeah. You know I have to go to work,” he responded casually though he could tell Shawna was getting heated.

While he stepped into his jeans, Shawna watched, her eyes filled with a combination of hurt and fury. Her shoulders rose as she inhaled anger and then sagged as she gave a long, sad sigh.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he knew the answer. It was obvious Shawna had caught feelings for him. Cochise was running late; he didn’t have time to pacify her, to gently remind her that they’d both agreed to a friendship and not a love affair. He had to hustle out of her crib if he expected to meet the van on time.

He knew his boss, Mr. Wheeler wouldn’t leave him behind, but Cochise didn’t feel like hearing the man give a speech about the virtues of being organized, the virtues of being prompt, the virtues of hard labor, and yada, yada, yada. Mr. Wheeler had a lot of nerve complaining about anything with the way he was carrying on with Onika. What a hypocrite. A married man getting it in with a young girl half his age.

Shawna sniffled, demanding Cochise’s attention.

“Yo, what’s wrong?” he asked again.

“You’re what’s wrong, Cochise. How do you think I feel, watching you jump into your clothes two seconds after you bust a nut?”

“I gotta go to work, ma. Why you trying to have beef with me like I’m doing something wrong?” Cochise gathered his blanket of dark hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail.

She poked out her lips. “How come you never do anything nice—like bring me flowers or take me out to dinner?”

“Yo, we cool and everything, but you know it’s not like that. I thought we were on the same page.”

Shawna looked at him askance. “Give me the page number. Since I can’t even get a real kiss me or any type of affection, I know I’m on the wrong page. Shyt, I doubt if we’re even on the same chapter. You treat me like I’m some type of sex toy—a blow-up doll—or pocket puzzy,” Shawna complained, showing a feisty side Cochise had never seen.

Cochise checked his watch. He had to roll out. “Look, I thought we had an arrangement. I guess I was wrong. Maybe we should stop seeing each other.”

His words came out sounding cruel, so he tried to soften them. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Shawana. I’m not cold-hearted like some dudes, but I told you what it is from the door.” Cochise refused to let Shawna guilt him into something he wasn’t ready for.

“Oh! It’s like that? The minute I speak my mind, you want to put the breaks on our relationship. I can’t believe you want to end it, just like that!” Shawna snapped her fingers for emphasis. “You have a lot of nerve treating me like crap after all I’ve done for you.”

Cochise frowned. “We gave each other pleasure. I didn’t take anything I didn’t give.”

“No? Well, your dick’s not bent out of shape, is it?”

Cochise frowned, not comprehending.

“Yeah, your dick hasn’t changed at all, but my puzzy is all beat up. You’re walking out the same way you came in but I’m left with damaged goods. I should’ve stuck with letting you bust a nut between my thighs. I must have been crazy to let you put your big-azz dick all the way up in my kitty, stretching it out so wide, a regular-sized man won’t be able to feel shit when he’s up in it. He’s gonna feel like he just dropped his dick inside the Grand freaking Canyon! Who do you think is going to want to have sex with a gutted-out, deformed puzzy? When a nigga pushes up in a bytch, he wants to feel some tight walls clenching up around his dick.

The degree of Shawna’s anger was disturbing. Cochise felt guilty. He walked over to the bed and rubbed Shawna’s shoulder. She misunderstood the gesture. Thinking he’d had a change of heart, Shawna reached for his other hand, kissing his fingers and the back of his hand with fervent devotion.

Gently, Cochise withdrew his hand. “I just wanted to tell you,” he said awkwardly, “um, your vagina will shrink back over time. It’ll shrink down to the size of the next man—”

Shawna flinched as if his words had scorched her ears. “Kiss my azz, Cochise,” she exploded. “Get out!”

Copyright 2009 Allison Hobbs

BIG JUICY LIPS

By Allison Hobbs

Carrying a tray with two Gold Diggers, two shots of Hennessey and another bottle of Budweiser, Felice joined Misty and Monroe inside the private booth.

“Is it cool?” Misty asked Felice.

“Yeah, I asked for an early break,” Felice responded, setting down the tray and then closing the privacy screen.

“That’s whassup.” Misty gave Felice a wink.

Out of the loop, Monroe looked inquiringly at both of their faces. “Y’all gon’ school a brother or what?”

The two young women giggled conspiratorially. “So, how are we gonna work this? I only have twenty minutes,” Felice said.

“That’s plenty of time, if the youngin’ can perform.” Misty smiled at Monroe.

“What? Y’all ‘bout to get into something right here in the club?”

“Nervous?” Misty challenged. “Nah, I’m cool.”

“Come join us.” Misty scooted close to the wall. Felice squeezed inside the booth, sandwiching Monroe between herself and Misty.

She turned toward Monroe and pressed her firm, high-set breasts into his arm. “Hey, handsome. You feeling that Henny yet?”

“Nah, I’m feelin’ you,” Monroe offered, words slurred, eyes flitting lustfully from Misty’s face to Felice’s big tits. He gazed at the private screen, which he could see through. “What’s that jawn made out of?”

“Don’t get me to lying,” Felice replied. “All I know is we can see out, but can’t nobody see in.” She smiled. Her full lips separated, showing off dark gums and pretty white teeth.

Misty nudged Monroe’s shoulder. “It’s playtime; let’s have some fun.”

“What y’all tryna get into?” he wanted to know.

Felice glanced at her watch. “A quickie ménage.”

“A quickie what?”

“Boy, you wasting time,” Misty blurted.

“We’re gonna let you do both of us. You have twenty minutes to make us both cum.” Felice checked her watch. “We only have sixteen minutes left.”

Monroe’s dick throbbed excitedly and dribbled a few drops of desire. Getting into a threesome with two banging chicks was like a dream come true. He started to give a few suggestions on how to get the party started, but common sense told him to keep his mouth shut and let the women take charge. He had killed half a bottle of Hennessey, and was struggling with coordination and coherent speech. Misty and the big-boob waitress might change their minds about playtime, if they knew the hard liquor had him twisted. Allowing his hands to do the talking, he clumsily groped Felice’s boobs. Grabbing two handfuls, he squeezed greedily.

“Slow your frisky self down,” Felice admonished, smacking Monroe’s hands. Misty gave Monroe an evil stare.

Monroe laughed. “My bad. I couldn’t help myself.” Wearing a boyish smile, he held up both hands in mock surrender. Felice unbuttoned the tight-fitting top, revealing a white lace bra that contrasted nicely with her sepia-colored skin. She unfastened the front hook, releasing a set of voluptuous breasts. Monroe’s eyes bulged in appreciation.

Monroe was twisted; Misty could tell. She quickly went to work before his drunken ass ruined her opportunity to exact revenge on Dane. She extracted a tube of lubricant from inside her purse and then placed her lips close to Monroe’s ear. “Suck on Felice’s nipples and take your dick out for me.”

He tried to maintain an impassive expression, but Misty’s heated whisper put a crooked smile on his face. Seated between the two sexy women, Monroe didn’t know where to start. He turned his head toward Felice. Her bared breasts bounced freely as she shook them against his face. A trembling hand frantically worked on unzipping his pants, while his other hand clumsily palmed a handful of big, cocoa-colored titty. The lewdness of such brazen, public debauchery aroused Monroe; his erection pulsed inside his pants. Greedily, he took in one of her dark-pearled nipples, captured it with hungry urgency, pulling and stretching the pliable flesh with his teeth. Finally, his zipper was down, but drawn to Felice’s succulent breasts, he returned his concentration to titty sucking and left his engorged dick inside his pants.

Misty displayed the tube of warming lubricant. “Do you want me to jerk you off?” Monroe, trying to swallow Felice’s ripened bosom, refused to be distracted. Misty popped Monroe upside the head. “I guess you don’t need my help, hungry muufuucka. Whassup, you wanna grub on the bytch’s puzzy?”

Monroe made growling sounds that indicated giving Felice oral sex in a public place was a huge turn on.

“I guess it’s snack time,” Misty said, petulantly, pulling Monroe by his collar. “So get between her legs and get yourself a Happy Meal, youngin’.”

Uninhibited by alcohol, Monroe scooted down to his knees. His head quickly disappeared beneath Felice’s red skirt. Stirred by the sensual fragrance that emanated from between her legs, a soft groan came from the back of his throat. Passionately, he pulled her panties to the side and began licking, tasting the sting of her tart womanly flavor. Desiring more, he used his thumbs to pry apart her plump, inner lips. “Ooo, shit. You got some big, juicy lips,” he murmured. He plunged in his tongue, twisting it, burrowing deeply. He sucked her vagina, sipping softly at first—delicately. Then he slurped loudly, groaning as he lapped, using broad, wet strokes; his widened tongue coated with sugary cream.

Slumped in the booth, her legs splayed, Felice writhed and moaned helplessly as Monroe sipped her thick nectar. Certain that her loud moans would get them all ejected, Misty slid over and silenced Felice with lips, enticing the waitress to feed from the sweetness of her mouth. Having done prison time, Misty was well-schooled in girl-sex. She pressed Felice’s large breasts together, and then lowered her head, helping herself to the taste of double mounds of chocolate. Felice gave a surprised gasp. Overwhelmed, she clenched her eyes tight and drew in her lips, struggling to contain a scream of passion. Misty’s lips abandoned the swollen, sensitized flesh and quickly covered Felice’s mouth with a firm hand, cutting off the waitress’s ardent sounds.

“Be quiet,” Misty hissed. “You’re drawing too much attention to us.” Felice bobbed her head in understanding. Misty removed her hand and returned her lips to Felice’s nipple and tentatively flicked her tongue against the ripened swell. Felice, struggling to maintain control, silenced herself by covering her mouth with her own hand as she arched up her chest, presenting her sensitive peaks to Misty’s hot lips. Misty drew in the nipple and lashed it with her tongue. Felice’s chest heaved and her lower body squirmed and twisted in wanton response to the dual stimulation she was trying to quietly endure. Her body jerked, her fists clenched and unclenched as a spasm of unbridled pleasure surged through her.

Misty patted Monroe’s head. “That’s enough.” Monroe looked up, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and passion. Felice’s lids popped open, her lashes fluttered, her dark eyes gleamed with lust and desperation. “She’s losing it; you gon’ have to stick this bitch. Pull your pants down, boo.”

“In here?” Monroe sounded terrified.

“Can’t nobody see us.” She patted the cushiony booth. “Hurry up, before her manger comes looking for her.”

Monroe reluctantly lowered his pants down to his thighs and took a seat on the soft leather. Despite his wariness, his dick soared upward. Erect, throbbing with desire. Without prompting, Felice peeled off her panties, pushed up her skirt and raised a leg, prepared to straddle him.

“Hold up, bytch. You can’t ride my boo until he gets his jawn covered up.” Misty produced a condom, but before unwrapping it, she clutched Monroe’s aching member. Wishing her man, Dane could witness her powers of seduction, she gave a regretful sigh and then worked her lubricated palm up and down Monroe's turgid shaft. She gave his erection a hard squeeze, as if testing its ability to remain firm under pressure. She unfurled the condom and slathered it with the warming lubricant. Gripping Monroe’s penis, Misty moved over. “Aiight, bytch. Climb up on this.”

Caught up in the frenzy of the moment, Felice found herself experiencing a perverse pleasure in being treated harshly and being repeatedly referred to as bytch by a bossy woman.

Monroe pumped dick into Felice. “We ain’t got a lot of time, yo,” Misty reminded. Extraditing matters, she applied soft smacks to the waitress’s shapely, chocolate azz. The sudden stinging sensation being dispensed by a tiny, feminine hand sent the waitress into body tremors; her hips rolled rhythmically.

“Oh, yes! Spank my azz. Harder!”

Incredulous, Monroe’s eyes widened. “Damn, boo, you whippin’ that ass?”

Misty responded with another loud slap across Felice’s round buttocks, sending the waitress into an uproar of heavy breathing and frantic pelvic thrusts.

Monroe gripped Felice’s shoulders and rammed his dick in deeply. While Felice rolled her hips, guzzling up as much dick as she could take in, Misty stealthily slid her hand beneath her red skirt and encircled the base of Monroe’s shaft, squeezing lightly. Monroe twitched at her touch. He groaned, but managed to keep the volume to a minimum.

Misty then caressed the petals that enveloped Monroe’s long stem. Felice’s labia were fat and juicy. Misty alternated pulling the swollen lips. Felice gave a cry of pleasure when Misty rubbed her knuckle against her clit. Jolted with electrical thrills, Felice rocked awkwardly, struggling to connect her taut, sensitive flesh with Misty’s knuckle while trying to maintain a rhythmic ride on Monroe’s dick.

With her well-lubricated free hand, Misty cupped Monroe’s scrotum, fondled his testicles. He jerked as if electrocuted. “Say my name!” Misty demanded.

“Misty,” he murmured as his plunging hotness penetrated deeply.

Bucking wildly, Felice met Monroe’s heated trust as Monroe exploded, still murmuring Misty’s name.

With Monroe’s softening dick still inside her puzzy, Felice squirmed, trying to get satisfaction. Misty stroked Felice’s swelling clitoris. “Say my name, bytch!”

“Misty,” Felice whispered, barely audible.

“What?” Misty rubbed her extended clit.

“Misty!” Felice shouted, her body going rigid before an onslaught of rippling, orgasmic pleasure.

Fuc with me, mufucckkas! Misty collected herself. Straightening out her clothes, she rushed away from the tawdry scene, leaving the privacy screen wide open, exposing Felice and Monroe, their clinging bodies, shuddering, half-naked and exposed.