Fingering Renae Publically
- 3 years ago
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I went off to my studio, having snagged a quick shower and a much-needed change of clothes. You, Nicole, had laughingly offered to wash my body, but I just give you a peck on the cheek. Right before I left, I pull you to me, one hand around your waist, the other sliding under your robe. Using that sexy bedroom voice, I request that you cum all over my fingers so I could smell you all day. What woman can resist a request like that? Of course you obliged and then spent all day imagining me surreptitiously sniffing those cream coated fingers.
You clean up around the house, but your mind isn't in it. Going from room to room, you are fantasizing about having me here, picturing having me there. Leaning up against door frames, you feel the wood press into your breasts, wishing it were me instead. Next you sit on your couch and softly rub your pussy with your head thrown back, eyes closed, craving my fingers rather than your own. Trying to clean off the kitchen table, you get weak-kneed thinking of how sexy and sensuous I'd make you feel. And once, just once, you touch your belly and wonder if my seed will soon be taking root there.
Over and over you have told yourself that I shouldn't do this, that you were a woman not driven by lusts. You, Nicole, and I have some wickedly hot passion between us but it would never amount to more than that. But in your heart, you know it is already too late. You have fallen for your lover eons ago, through the emails we had sent and the late-night conversations we'd had. Since that first few conversations on the social site, your heart has known, even while your mind struggles to accept this connection.
Feeling a ball of despair, anger and frustration settle into your stomach at the futility of your dreams, you finish up your chores and decide to soak in a long, candle-lit bubble bath, regardless of it being late afternoon. Armed with a favourite book, a glass of tea and a square of chocolate, you nibble, sip and read your way into oblivion, conveniently forgetting the bliss your life is becoming.
When the bathroom door crashes open, you jump and shriek, knocking your tea cup off the granite ledge of the tub. You barely save your book from falling into the water. I gracefully swoop up the cup, sitting it on the counter and drop to my knees beside the tub before you could gasp for a breath. Laughing, grinning, whooping my pleasure, I reach into the froth of bubbles and pull you to me in a huge hug. Ignoring the blast of bubbles that explodes everywhere, I clasp you. Never one to turn down getting your hands on your sexy man, you lift your dripping wet arms and hug me back, figuring my wet shirt is justifiable revenge for your thundering heart.
Pulling back slightly, I kiss you—forehead, temple, eyelid, nose, and finally, mouth. On and on and on we kiss, mouths meeting, tasting, parting, rejoining, tongues licking, exploring, breath mixing, moans matching beat for beat. One big, dark hand strokes the length of your back, over and over, while the other cups your head and holds you in that sweet, sexy way that they do it on the old movies. Your fingers, frustrated by the fabric of my shirt, have settled on either side of my face, softly cradling me as we continue kissing.
After what seems like an eternity, I pull away. When we gaze at each other, anointed in little puffballs of soap bubbles, we can't help but laugh. Reaching out to smooth bubbles off of my ear, you ask what I am so excited about. After another whoop echoes off the granite bath, I explain that my meeting today has gone incredibly well. I'd explain the details later. Right now, I say, I need to take my lady out to celebrate.
Trying hard to ignore the extra-hard thump of your heart at my choice of words, you stand up, water and bubbles cascading down the pale length of your body. Seems no matter what you do, you are never able to tan. But seeing the look in your lover's dark eyes as I reach up to rub bubbles off your pale pink nipple, you once again realizing the contrast of my smooth, dark skin against yours so soft and pale. You are grateful that you never developed that West Coast toasty color.
Wrapping you in a big, fluffy towel, I enfold you in my arms. I hold you for a minute, gazing at our reflection in the mirror. An unidentifiable expression passes over my face and then with a quick grin, I pop your butt. Telling you to hurry up and get ready, I inform you that we are going to meet an old friend at the restaurant. Biting back a surge of disappointment that you hadn't been the first one I contacted with my news, you smile and turn away. Saucily you tell me that if you are going to get dressed, I need to go wait in a different room or it won't happen.
Although you thought you had covered your feelings well, I tuck a hand under your chin, lift your eyes to mine and proclaim that the reason I'd not told you first is to buy us some more playtime. My finger had been pressing the number to speed-dial you when I thought better of it and rang my friend. That said, I give you a quick, hard kiss and instruct you to get your cute ass dressed up. Heading down the hall, I know if I stayed, we'd end up on the bed so very few feet away.
Perusing the contents of your closet, you decide on what you can wear that would tantalize your lover without drawing suspicion. Finally you decide on a simple, figure-skimming grey sweater and short, tight black skirt. You add a curve enhancing bra, garter belt, stockings, and high heels. Twisting your hair up, you quickly use some makeup, attach earrings and head out to the living room, where I wait, sharply dressed and smelling sexy.
At my moan of approval and raised eyebrows, you raise your arms and twirl once, sending your hair flying. This momentarily presses the soft material of your sweater tight against your curves. At my low growl, you stop, twist slightly and yank up the hem of your skirt, showing me your stocking top and a creamy inch of flesh above it. In addition, you toss a wicked grin. At this, I lunge forward, snatching you up in my strong arms, crushing you as I thoroughly kiss you. This makes you whimper in surprised delight. When I eventually move away, you must steady yourself against my chest, you breath hitches and your eyes blur.
With a softly bemused smile, I turn you to the door, grab my keys and your purse, guiding you to my van. You are still reeling, awestruck, after that mind-shattering, heart-stopping kiss I'd just laid on you. Opening your door, I seat you gallantly in my van, tucking your legs in and buckling your seatbelt before carefully closing the door. A grin spreads on my face, as I skip around the front of 'my baby,' get in, buckle up, start it. I turn to look at you, laughing at your expression. Still you don't know up from down.
Unbuckling, I lean over, gently kiss you, stroke your cheek and then laugh. Rebuckling, I start driving. You know not to where. Slowly you regain your senses, realizing that this is the first time you'd had the pleasure of seeing the inside of, much less riding in, 'Vanessa.' This van is the pride and joy I used for travel. Looking around, it is obvious the care I put into every detail, from the butter-soft seats to the coloured interior lighting. No wonder my business is so successful.
Catching my eye, you smile, lean back and relax. You feel me all around you. Your eyes are closed, when you feel my hand nudge against yours. Before long I pick it up and hold it on the console between us, our fingers mesh, my thumb softly stroking the back of your hand. Tipping your head toward me, you just watch as I drive, enjoying my more than capable handling of this sumptuous vehicle. Glancing over at you, I notice you watching me. Grinning, I blow you a kiss, adeptly driving with my knees while I turn up the volume on the sound system.
At the first stoplight, I slide my hand from yours, tweak your skirt up over your stocking top. I then reach for your hand again, glancing over frequently at the stark contrast of your dark stockings, dark skirt and smooth white thigh. Deciding you like being my eye candy, you reach up and undo two of the buttons on your sweater. The soft weight of the material opens itself to just below the band of your bra, giving me full view of your ample cleavage. When you sit back, carefully shifting just so, the sweater slides over the curve of your breast, fully exposing it, cradling that lilac-wrapped orb as it threatens to spill over the edge of your bra. My breath hisses. Reaching over, I nudge the edge of your bra down under the curve of your breast, completely exposing you right there in my vehicle. The smoked windows make it doubtful that anyone can see in, but the danger of it all slams through you, arching your back and wetting your pussy instantly.
Hearing your gasp of passion, I chuckle, wet a fingertip and lightly rub it over your hardening nipple, tweaking and pulling it. This makes you moan and thrash. Softly, gently I rub your nipple. Decisively I stroke your breast, roughly squeezing and hefting its weight. Now this causes you to writhe in the seat until you're begging me to stop, to not stop, to let you cum, to stop the van and fuck you unless I want you to ruin my soft, supple seats with your pussy cream.
My low, sexy chuckle ends in a growl, I slide my hand down your breast, over your stomach and into the crease of your thighs. I dip my long, strong fingers into the weeping well of your wet pussy, realizing in an instant how strongly my simple, sexy touch affects you. Lifting my fingers to my face, I hold you spellbound as I sniff and lick your cream. Telling you that I have been doing that all day, between meetings, during meetings, your essence on my fingers excites you. Your image burned in my mind. As my sexy voice plants these images in your own mind, your tremble and cum. In addition, you are clenching your thighs in an effort to save your seats.
Realizing what you are doing, I lean over, force your legs apart and instruct you to cum again, so I could watch. When you quiver and moan that you are trying not to mess up the material, I look directly into your eyes. Again I command you to push your skirt up and instruct you to cum. A split-second later you are writhing, screaming, arching and gushing girl cream everywhere. You're unable to control your reactions to your black lover's voice, touch, tone, demands. Uncaring who might see and forgetting we are in a van in rush-hour traffic, you give your body, control and being, over to your lover, to do with as I wish.
When you open your eyes finally, you realize I had pulled off into a parking lot. Turning off the van, I shift in my seat and just sit there. My arm curls over the steering wheel, as I stare at you. After everything we have shared, both over distance and in person, one wouldn't think you would be embarrassed, but the flush of colour is staining your cheeks something fierce. There you sit in my prized van, one breast completely exposed, legs spread and your pussy juice covering the seat.
Shifting, trying to cover your exposed body, mortified at what you have just done to my van, you fight tears. You hear the quiet shnick of my seatbelt as it comes loose. You look out your window, frantically rubbing a hand under your eyes, praying your makeup would stay unsmudged. Seconds later my hand is cupping your cheek, tilting your face to mine, my deep brown eyes full of concern. When you babble some incoherent concern for my precious truck which you'd just ruined the upholstery of, I laugh, pulling your head to my chest and thanking you.
You are astounded....and confused. You ponder, 'why is he thanking me, when his truck is going to smell like my wet pussy from now on?' Stroking your cheek, I relay to you that one of my fantasies, since I'd bought the van a few years back, was to one day have you in it, screaming my name while squirting my cream everywhere, just so that I could smell you in it. In fact, I continue, I've had this image in my mind forever, of taking you on that big bench backseat. Smearing your cum from one end of it to the other, I want to overlay the scent of leather with your aroma of arousal. With that I place your soft hand onto my throbbing erection, asking if you need further proof.
Feeling me beneath your fingers, even through the clothing, made your senses stumble. You could feel me throb, twitch, shift, just from your slightest touch. Gently wiping the last tear from your eye, I pull you to me, giving you another earth-shattering kiss. Softly my hand traces over the curve of your breast, tugging your sweater down over it again. Lifting it out of the cradle of your brassiere and into the warmth of my palm, I enjoy the fact that your breast still overflows my big hand. You gasp into my mouth.
Slipping my hand down over the curve of your hip, I tug you to me, deepening my kiss. I am running my hand all down your side, along the curve of your ass, along the strap of your garter, behind your knee and all the way back up to the twist of hair at the back of your head. Your earrings tinkles a sweet little tune as I brush past them on my way to cupping your cheek, stroking your curve of your lower lip with my thumb as my lips mate with yours over and over.
Lost in my kiss, you don't even notice when I unbutton the rest of your sweater, edging it off your shoulders and tossing it in the back. Or when I unclasp your bra, the feel of my fingers sliding along your arms masking the delicate sc**** of fabric as I slide it off. When I lower my head and suckle on your aching nipples, you clutch my head to you, shaking, whimpering my name.
And when the sound of voices nearby startles you into pushing my head away, I growl. Pushing back, I attack the breast nearest to m, leaving the other one, the one closest to the door, exposed. Sensing your intent to cover your exposure with your hand, I clamp both your wrists in one of my strong hands. Capturing them behind your seat, I effectively hold you open and on display. Lifting my head from your breast, I lick and kiss my way up your neck to your mouth. My lips connect with yours as my free hand slips finger-deep into your drenched pussy.
No big surprise, you gasp, arch and come, screaming into my mouth while writhing and twisting on my fingers, oblivious to the rest of the world. Sneaking a peek out your window, I notice the group of guys standing around my front quarter panel. With their jaws hanging open, they watch as this well-built black man so obviously pleasuring the seemingly naked white woman in the public parking lot of a popular store. With a feral grin of purely devilish delight, I jam four fingers up into your wet, gushing pussy. I enjoy slamming them in and out of you. Ripping your mouth from mine, you scream your passion at the top of your lungs, wailing my name over and over, begging you to, "fuck me, take me, use me, slam that big black dick into me, make me his, anything, just cum in me". Flailing and thrashing, completely oblivious to our audience, you surge up from under me. Pushing me back into my own seat, you crash into my chest and attack my mouth while frantically undo my pants. Blissfully unaware of your complete exposure to the blokes outside who now can see your wet, swollen pussy in all its glory, you straddle the console, balancing with one knee against your headrest, the other on your seat.
Taking advantage of your spread position, I slide my long dark fingers back inside you. Two fingers are in while two spread your glistening wet lips open. My thumb brushes the top of your aching clitoris. Finally you get my pants undone, dragging my throbbing dick out. In one diving rush, you engulf my full length in your wet, hot mouth. My head bounces off the back of my seat as your lips massage the base of my long black dick. Your pussy spurts cream all over my hand. The group outside leans closer, faces almost pressed against the windows. Ever oblivious, you face fuck your lover, desperate for my sweet cream in any part of your body, feeling like a slut and loving every second of it. I slip my fingers out of you, scooping up a handful of your slippery juice and rub it on your ass. I like making those soft white cheeks shine in the late afternoon sun. I scoop up another handful, smearing it over your pussy lips and onto your asshole. Gently running my finger 'round and 'round, I delight in the vibrations that your moans of pleasure sent through my dick.
Slowly, gently, I slip a finger in, working it in and out, making slightly larger circles. My other hand running through your hair, gently caressing you. I keep an eye on our audience, taking note of both their amazement at the scene before them and their pleasure in the sensuality of it. I recognize the furtive movements of hands tucked demurely into pockets and smile to myself. Carefully I work in another finger and another, priming you for the mind-blowing orgasm I am about to give you.
I cautiously set my seat back, the motorized mechanism so quiet and smooth you never even realize what I am doing. Guiding you with one hand on the back of your head, I pull you off of my prick, sliding up my body until our mouths are once again meshed. Carefully I scoot back, still holding you to me, my other hand feeling the way as I maneuver us backward and onto the back seat of my van. This is where I'd pictured having you for so long. Lost in the sensations of what I am doing to you, you never even realize you had moved, mindlessly following me as I strive to fulfill a fantasy for each of us.
"Close your eyes," I whisper, "and just feel my skin on yours."
Wet, wild and totally trusting, you do as your lover asks. A smile crosses your lips as my body brushes against yours. My hand guides you there and positioning you there while my lips on your nipple, my hand on your waist, then your ankle. You feel something hard beneath your swaying breasts. It's cool against the wetness of your freshly suckled nipple causing you to shudder. You also feel me behind you, between your wide-spread legs, my hard dick brushing against you, pulling away, then brushing again. Your pussy creams, aching for me. With your eyes shut, you could smell the scent of your sex all throughout the van. When I lean you forward, I place one of your hands on each of the front seats. You feel the cool, wet puddle your desire has left on the seat. You shiver.
"Smell that," I ask, heightening your awareness of the scent of your desire. "That scent was on my fingers all day," I continue, crooning in your ear. "That scent drove me crazy, made me throb and ache for you. That scent is all over my hard dick," I grit, caressing myself, stroking your cream all over my hard black cock. "All day I kept thinking how bad I wanted you, how I couldn't get enough, how I wanted to make you scream, make you mine. And now," I grind out, "I'm making every part of you mine, for all the world to see. OPEN YOUR EYES."
With that, you simultaneously stroke my big, black cock into your soft white ass and grip my hand in your hair, pulling you up and arching your back. Your expression of sheer pleasure and momentary pain is displayed for our audience to see as I claim yet another part of you as my own. Feeling my dick take you, my fist in your hair, my breath panting in your ear and seeing the excited faces of the group of men outside the vehicle who are now pressed right up to the windows to watch our coupling, I lost it. Howling in pleasure, you splatters your cream from one end of my bench seat to the other and back again. We both get soaked. Your cries echo around the cabin of the van and into the ears of our attentive audience. Pulling your head back even further, I lick and nuzzle you. In my rough voice, I ask, "Do you like being watched, like having your ass fucked by this big black dick where people can see and like your ownership being so obviously displayed like this?"
"Yes, yes, yes," you wail. You love all of this: the excitement of your body under mine, the danger of being caught and the blatant displays of my ownership of you.
Harder and harder I fuck you, pounding your round ass. As my hips slam into you, your breasts wobble all over the console. Your juices still splash everywhere. Turning your head, I kissed you long and deep. Suddenly I nut in you. Throbbing, bursting and grunting, I pour sweet semen deep into your body. Sweating, shivering with pleasure and moaning at the feel of your body caressing mine, I collapse against you. Regaining my breath, I kiss your cheek. Then I turn to look out the window, grinning at the audience's response to our privately public session.
"So how was that, Nicole," I murmur into your ear. "Everything you had hoped for?" Skimming my hand down your side, I caress you quickly, sweetly. Hugging you close for an instant before shifting, I reach back to grab our respective clothing from the far reaches of the van where they'd been tossed. Hauling you up by your hips, I slip your shaking arms through your bra straps, settling it on you and re-fastening it when your hands prove to shaky. Likewise I assist you when the sleeves of your sweater proved to be the 8th mystery of the world. Ever the gentleman, I search under the seat, finding an old, clean green towel. While I clean the visible residue of cum from between your legs, the brush of soft cotton makes you quiver and moan yet again. Finally I had you dressed, smoothed down and presentable, albeit quivery.
Opening the truck door, I help you step down. Holding you tight when your knees threatened to buckle, I laugh softly in your ear at your still-dazed expression. Walking you around to the passenger side door, I smile at the men who still stood there, watching us. You blush, realizing this group of men know every aspect of your outfit now; from your lacy garter belt to your demi-cup bra. They had had intimately viewed everything those articles of clothing caressed. Quickly surveying you in the dimming light, I pull your clip from your hair and hand it to you. I only state that other than your mussed up hair, you'd pass inspection.
My hands stay on your waist as you raise both your hands, twist your hair and clip it. Several strands fall loose around your face now, as you do your best without a mirror. Sliding my hands up over your ribs, I trap your hands at the back of your head, arch your back and thrust your breasts outward toward the men still standing there watching. Slipping three buttons loose, quick as a wink, I run the back of my hand over your exposed skin. Making you tremble, I make your nipples harden into bullets as your breath catches at the murmur of approval from our audience.
Tugging one side of your bra loose, I slip my hand in and caress you before skimming my hand down. Pulling up your skirt, I expose your swollen, glistening pussy to these strangers. "Mine," I growl, exposing and caressing you there in the parking lot, up against my van, glaring at any man who dared step any closer.
"Mine," I state again, defiantly, now covering you back up, caressing you over your clothing. Opening the door, I help you in and make sure to firmly squeeze your ass as you step up on the running board. I deliberately lock your door before closing it, prowling around the truck to slide in on the other side.
Realizing the show was over, our audience disperse. I start up 'Vanessa' with a fiercely predatory growl and shift into gear. Taking your hand in mine, I finish our drive to the restaurant, which turns out to be only a few blocks away. Ever the gentleman, I open your door for you, hold your hand and help you descend from my van, noticing the flush of passion still staining your cheeks and glowing in your beautiful, brown eyes.
And right there, in front of the valet and anyone who cares to look, I spear my hand through your hair. Pulling your mouth to mine, I ravish you, searing your soul with the power of my kiss. When I move away an eternity later, you whimper in protest, never wanting this to end.
Brushing back another loose strand of hair, I murmur that I like this loose, sexy hairdo. It gives you that freshly-fucked look I adore seeing. When your knees buckle yet again, I catch you, wrapping my arms around you and hold you close.
Tipping my soft, firm lips to your quivering mouth, I place the gentlest of kisses on you, making you tremble. Knowing we need to stop this public display, we go meet my friend who is undoubtedly waiting. As you turn in my arms, I yank you back to me. Cupping your head in my dark, powerful hands, I hold you still against me, heartbeat to heartbeat, where you never want to leave.
"You are mine, Nicole, mine" I say, quietly, against your lips, looking deep into your eyes and reading your soul, letting you, in turn, read mine...
Elle
- 18.04.2020
- 19
- 0
