I knew she was ravenous from the way she addressed the issue.
"When you comin' over?" Poetry said after a game of flirt and tease.
"When I'm invited..." I said.
"You have an open invitation, you know that."
"What are you opening when I get there?"
"What would you like me to open?" She said with a purr.
She liked to throw it back. She never wanted to directly answer a question when it came to the dirtiest of dirties, even though we had just been daring each other sexually.
"I'm coming over tonight."
"Yeah right. You're not gonna pass up a night with your boys to come get your back broken... trying to break my back!"
I nearly ground my teeth into dust.
CHALLENGE!
My heart raced as I hopped off the train. I was so amped up I waved the five minute bus ride with the free transfer and stomped up the street like a prize fighter ready to knock an opponent out. If this was indeed boxing, I was Mike Tyson walking to the ring in a no frills black towel with a hole cut in the top to fit my head, black socks and a bad attitude. My aim was a first round knock out. I knew in my heart, my opponent was no easy win.
She buzzed me into her apartment complex. By the time I reached her floor, beads of sweat peppered my forehead. There was a line of sweat down the crease of my brown back from the walk in the humid Summer air. I was warmed up and ready.
The door was unlocked. I knocked softly, pushed it open and locked it behind me.
"You were talking a lot of shit today, Fury." She shouted from her bedroom.
I left my things in a chair and headed toward her voice. Before I could reach her, she poked her head out of her bedroom door then stepped out. All she wore was the beads of water from her shower.
"Whatcha gonna open?" I asked.
"What you wanna open?"
There she went again...
I kissed her soft lips. Our tongues played easily. Our lips pressed lightly on and off puckering softly so as not to rush the moment. My hands traveled to her stiff nipples. I caressed them between my thumb and forefinger loving the feel against my skin. I pushed her back toward her bed.
"Let's get you open." I growled.
She laid back and spread her legs immediately. Someone was presumptuous and I told her so. She laughed and made a motion to lift up. Using my palm, I pressed her back down and took comfort between her legs. My mouth placed a warm, wet, open mouth kiss on her kitten. Poetry moaned for me. Moaned for the pleasure of my lips and tongue designed. She was fresh in my mouth with lips so plump I suckled them then danced and flicked on her clit. She moaned through her first climax and knew not to move. I wasn't done pleasing her.
Poetry groaned under the pressure and ease of my tongue. With a soft touch, I introduced my fingers slowly inside her and found her g-spot. My mouth and two massaging fingers worked together in concentric circles. Her hips moved rhythmically with me. Her hands pulled the fitted sheets from the mattress as a booming moan erupted from her soul.
"Yes!" She groaned after she caught her breath.
I climbed above her - my thick throbbing manhood sheathed and ready. Poetry's face said it all. Her groans added the exclamation point of the first stroke. A deep, warm, tight glove across the girth of my dick. We made the beast with two backs. Our hips swiveled together. When she came, she pulled me tightly to her and shuddered as I teased her inner spot with the broad tip of my dick.
"You wanna get fucked?" I asked.
"Whatever you wanna do. You do it. DAMN!" She shouted in approval.
In seconds, I pulled her up and bent over the foot of her bed. I reached the hilt in seconds. She thrust back against me driving me deeper within her. Our sweat accumulated my hands slipped from her hips as I pulled her back toward me. I gripped her tighter and fucked her harder. If she wanted a broken back, she would get one. I pounded with rhythm trying to feel every inch of her inner sanctum. Her lower lips squeezed me and begged for more. Her voice rose. She panted and moaned the things a woman says when she doesn't give a fuck about the neighbors above or below her.
"You want the neighbors to know you're getting fucked?"
"MMMMHHHMMMM" She fucked me back.
"What if I open the curtains?"
I pushed back the curtains with one hand. The light from a neighbor's kitchen window not far from hers. Below more light. Above another room and another neighbor. I thrust hard, smacked her ass harder. Poetry moaned louder. I dared the neighbors to look out of their windows. I dared them to see their honey colored neighbor bent over with her ass in the air getting fucked by a Black buck. No takers. I dropped the curtain and grabbed her hips.
She shifted to her back and took me deeply again. Another climax and more screams her neighbors couldn't ignore. I backed away on my knees sweating profusely. The latex made a snapping sound as I unrolled it from my throbbing tool.
"Mmm." She bit her bottom lip.
Her hands wrapped around the shaft, her mouth parted and she engulfed the head with her hand stroking the shaft. To say I remember every stroke of her mouth and twirl of her tongue would be a lie. It was all one energetic yet patient and eloquent song after another. She was in concert playing my instrument. My back bucked as I felt the tightness. My balls which were earlier slapping against her pouty pussy lips were tightening toward my body.
"I'm gonna cummmmmm." I warned knowing she wasn't scared.
She sucked me harder and with need. Poetry wanted to please and receive. I exploded with loud groans as she sucked harder. Her hands stroked and pulled making sure there was nothing left. All I could see when I looked down at her pretty brown eyes was a devilish glare. She licked her tongue outside of her lips.
"Gimme more....I want mooooooooorreee." She pleaded. Her tongue lapped around her lips as she stared at the pulsating chocolate in her hands.
"There is no more. The shop is closed." I panted trying to return to Earth.
"You got more. I know you do." Poetry said.
Against my will and my very sensitive manhood, Poetry took me into her mouth again. Her hand wrapped around my body gripping my ass cheek forcing me to fuck her mouth harder. The slippery grip of her saliva covered fingers pistoned faster on my shaft, the engorged helmet rammed against her tongue.
This was the championship round. I wanted more. I wanted to show her I was Mike Tyson. She wanted to please me. She wanted to take every fucking blow I had. Poetry sucked hard. I forced it. I wanted to hit her with the knockout. I could feel it, something welling deep down there. Poetry's head bobbed and jerked. her tongue swiveled at the base of my dick. I was stuck in a vacuum. Without notice there was a large pressure and I tried my best to pull away, but her mouth was just too strong.
I EXPLODED in torrents.
Poetry tried to swallow as much as she could, but gave up as some dribbled from her mouth, sprinkled across her tits and onto the sheets. The energy was gone from me. I had literally shot my load.
"Ummm...Sorry."
"What was that?? I tried to get it all, but damn. You exploded! It wasn't even thick, it was like water." Poetry smiled as she wiped her stiff nipples and surveyed the we spot on the bed.
I shook my head in disbelief.
"Wow...umm...sorry?" I said with a sheepish grin that does not exist in Mike Tyson.
"Don't be." Poetry said. "You have some more?"
They call me The Fury..I've made it rain