Gotta take that call, huh?

Consider me as a diversion instead of doodling while you finish up your business. That's right, a hand on the small of my back flips me over the couch, and I'll stay there, obedient while you run your hands down to my ass, over my thighs, up my skirt. I balance on the tips of my toes while you explore the line where my panties hug my curves, and then rudely move them aside, caress my hot wet mound as I writhe against your fingers, trying to be quiet, and then my little moans as you start to fuck me with them. the tone of your voice doesn't change as you plunge in. I can feel you looking at me, loving it as I arch my back and spread my legs, as you play my G spot and up the ante with two fingers, watching me pleasure myself on them, slamming me expertly, giving nothing away. Oh, God this is so good, being used, being played with, being taken. You're already on top without even trying when you hang up the phone and growl in my ear. "Making some noise?"

"I tried to be quiet.."I say, and my voice comes out like a little girl's who's about to get punished. You work your fingers through me, almost clinically. "That is some wet pussy there. You are one fine piece of ass, you know that?"

I hope so.

When does size matter?

When you have a five inch tongue.

One look at you and it's clear you're a pussy eater. You like it, you grow your little goatee in preparation for it, and you have the full and sensuous lips of an Italian with a thirst.

I let you look at me for a while, though. I moved slowly around your apartment, looking at your things. You made me a drink, I asked if you had any tattoos. We got high, I went outside for some air, making sure you could see me leaning up against the railing, my black lace dress starting to rise over my very pale ass. You rewarded me with a pinch. A lot of men would have started some caressing there. You were waiting for me to make the move.

So I did. I came dressed like a whore today, knowing what I want, but as we discussed in the kitchen, it's a gift. Free for you and for me. And so I came down to use the bathroom, took off my coat, and now here I am in the bedroom, you see. Ready for you to eat my pussy. I wore no stockings on this winter day precisely for this reason. You have this great chair, right next to your bed. The feng shui of sex.

I arrange myself in your chair, the leather cold on my ass, legs slightly spread in black boots, and wait. You sit on the bed.

"You're such a tease," you say, with that hint of a drawl. "You don't have to tease me, you know. But I like it." I respond obediently, spreading further for you, moving my dress up my legs so you can see my black satin panties, propping my feet on your bed. I begin to play with the outside of my panties. I keep eye contact. "Oh, God. I love watching you play with yourself."

I move the panties aside now, showing you how I like it, spreading the wetness out of the hole and onto my moist clit. "Mm, you're making me hungry. I'm about to get the munchies."

And you roll your stocky little self over, turn your baseball hat backwards and pull me forward in the leather chair. The warmth of your tongue instantly envelops my pussy from top to hole.

Oh wow. "Mm, yeah, baby. Eat my pussy. Oh, god."

They say it's not size, but oh man. You are all over the place. There is nothing tentative about you, using the upper end of it to stroke my clit while you literally fuck my hole with your lower lip. My clit is literally drenched in your warmth. You're hitting everywhere at once, and unlike some boys, I don't have to pull you in. Yeah. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. I love the way it feels. I love how you're so close to my ass but not giving it any attention.

I got my hands on your head and I'm turned on by how slutty this is- a little high, windy afternoon, and you're giving it to me so good without even using your fingers yet. I come once, a torrent of yes, babys and eat mes, and as I start to peak again, you pull back and I call you another name as you ride my tease.

You start to work in more tricks now, beginning with your fingers, which feels so good, while the most incredible angles rain from your tongue and I come again, and again.

I close my legs then, briefly, and I can feel it pulsing, and throbbing. And that's when you show me your tongue. Long, like a snake or a lizard. But big. Flexible.

I think I blush. Even after how slutty I've been. And I'm still wearing all my clothes.

Oh, yeah, you'll play with my tits, even suck on them. Do some great work with your fingers and tongue until I lose count, until I'm making these indescribable noises, lost in myself. You know how to use a girl's panties against her. In fact, as we tangle on the bed, I can barely connect what I saw in your mouth to what's happening to my pussy, so complete is the attention.

But wow. That is some tongue, cowboy.

The last man I loved was a boy at heart. He would stop in the street to stare at stuff, into display windows. Once stood stock still watching a spider spin his web in a parking garage. Kissed me in my car, in my workplace, in dark corners, but never in my house.

Chewed tobacco even though he knew it was a nasty habit. Tried to fast but snuck candy. Was unabashedly sexy.

Flirted with every woman he met. Stared at women in the street. Openly made comments about them in front of me. Got distracted by my breasts. Could not take his advances spurned. Gave my neck more attention than it had had in years. Spit my words back at me.

Was so sensitive I could turn him on in about five seconds flat. He felt guilty about that. I never did.

Ate my pussy at midnight in a walkway where a bank met a parking lot four blocks from his house. Walked me past a park he didn't like the look of because he was worried about my safety. Could not hold his liquor.

Had read HOW TO WIN FRIENDS AND INFLUENCE PEOPLE at a young age. Used it all the time to make people like him.

Was a great kisser. Liked it rough. Made up rules for himself. Hurt me, left a mark, lied about it. Caused me more pain than any man ever has. Physically, and emotionally. Could not own it. I would have done anything for him. I still would. He knew it. He could do nothing for me.

Could not communicate directly. Said no when he meant yes. Said yes when he meant no. Had really trashy taste in music, but was a completely educated professional.

Was successful but scared. Sensitive, but a total asshole. Cheerful, but hostile. Had a great sense of humor. Was an adrenaline junkie. Loved how smart I was. Never lied to me. Never led me on.

Was married to someone else.

We had no chance in hell.

One day I'll love again.

I love the spa in this hotel because of one thing. The black chicks. They sit around waiting for their services in these white terry robes, their dark skin shining, freshly showered, jewelry gleaming on their wrists. As a silent white girl among them I can only think about what's underneath those robes, how much I would love for them to interrupt their tea party and pass me around. I want to be mistaken for the help.

"Excuse me, is there more hot water? No?"

"The girl who was just here said she was bringing more biscuits."

I can imagine the fleshy one on the end exchanging a quiet glance with the one next to her, her skin the color of caramel as she tells me I'm not fooling anyone.

"Oh, you don't work here, do you?" I shake my head. "Well, then what are you looking at?" No answer.

" Alright, girl, come on down here. Sit by my feet."

Two claps and a point, like training a puppy in my little short white robe. I'm on my knees in front of her as the other ladies laugh. One puts her foot on my back.

"Let me look at you." She strokes my face with one long, black finger, ending on my lips, probing my mouth. She loosens the belt of the robe and lets it open, and her neatly trimmed dark bush beckons from between round, fleshy thighs. "This is what you want, right?" I nod, quickly, and she takes my face in one hand. "Do you really deserve it?" I shake my head. She slaps me hard.

"Don't be rude. Use words. Do you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Better. Now, I would be sending you out of here with your tail between your legs, but I like your mouth, and I want to see if you can put it to some use. Go ahead now. Let me see what you can do."

She leans back slightly, her mouth open, her pussy gleaming in front of me. I hear another woman murmur,"Go on, you little white bitch."

I tentatively begin to lick her pussy. It smells strong and fragrant, and I start slow. She's incredibly wet and seems to want me to go hard and fast. "Spread me wide, that's right. Get on in there." I slide my hands under her fat, fleshy ass cheeks and suck on her clit. Behind me, I feel hands and fingers, stripping off my robe, raking nails down my back, grabbing my ass and lifting it up. Voices behind me, "Mm, yeah, why don't you move that ass around for us." She pulls my head in harder. "That's right, lick that pussy. Uh-hum. Mmm. Fuck yeah. Fuck me with that tongue. I've got her fast and hard now, my tongue stiff and loving her hole as she lifts up, grinding into my face, her hands on the couch. I'm matching the rhythmn of her hips as she gets off on me, finally bumping and grinding herself into coming in my mouth. "Fuck yeah, bitch, that is so good." She holds my mouth in place and puts a finger to open it as her juices start to flow and she squirts in my mouth, a stream of girlcum running down my chin, more than I bargained for but so hot.

She smiles cooly at me. "Wipe your mouth."

I do. "Mm that was so hot honey, I bet you wish you were done."

"No ma'am."

"I like your honesty. My friend here wants a piece of what she just saw, and I'm sure you can make her happy, can't you baby?"

The next woman is darker, with short close cropped hair, a little more athletic, but with a nice round ass, which she spreads for me, bending over the couch. "Lick my asshole, there's a good girl. Clean it up real good."

It is very clean already. I get busy though, because her ass is beautiful, and I love running my hands up and down her thighs. Slow kisses, massaging her cheeks, and then teasing the crack of her ass with my tongue. She's loving the slowness of my strokes, my hot breath on her flesh, as I start to open her up in circles with the tip. "Mmm, yeah." I can see her fingers playing with her own shaved pussy, sinking into the folds as I slowly lap at her glory hole. She is expert at her own pleasure, moaning low, her face in the couch while I slurp on her delicious flesh. She feeds me her cream and I suck it off her fingers and she comes in a wave, me surfing the top with the tip of my tongue.

The Queen Bee is gentle with me. "One more? Yes."

They set this girl up in front of me, my favorite, little and round and with a hairy bush and nice tits. They pull her hands back over her head and tie them with a belt and loop it over this nice hook that may have held a plant at one point and somebody brings out a strap on, the kind you can control with your head. She puts one foot up on the couch and they take turns now, because they are pouring sweet tea down her body, all over her tits and pussy, and I am to lick it off. She is quiet, but her flesh stands on end as my mouth slides over her, the tea pouring down on me, in my hair, everywhere. They fit the strapon onto my face and I start to fuck her, slow strokes at first, but deep, because I can just lick when I'm up inside. I turn the cock, screwing it from side to side and she winds on it, grinding and grooving to my strokes, her breath escaping in little short gasps, her eyes so wide, riding my face. They change her position so she's sitting on my face now and I keep fucking her, surrounded by her scent, trapped in it, as her silence turns to moans and then little screams until she screeches across my face and into her climax, my mouth and head nothing but cock, her pussy everywhere, such a lovely afternoon...

The amazing thing about New York City is the noise. From way up high, the city never sleeps. The traffic buzzes through the streets like so many bees, heavy on the taxis, a bold rush.

We just got back from the theatre, the fast cab, and we're starting to get tipsy from the vodka tonics. It's so late, and my feet are sore, but I haven't undressed yet because I know what's coming and I want it. The silence has settled, comfortable- we picked the show apart, all the performances, nuances and design, and now you're watching me like you do. I can feel your eyes burning into me as you change the music on the ipod and set down your drink.

I'm standing, my back to you, pressed up against the window of the hotel room, looking out, my tits cold against the glass, watching the traffic, listening, when I feel your hand around my neck, covering my mouth. I bite your fingers, then lick, as your other hand moves to my hair, pulling just a little bit. You kiss my neck, gentle, I can feel your breath, hovering. My nipples peak slightly against my shirt as you bite me. You don't care if you leave a mark, you never did. Insistent bites, nuzzling my neck, my hair, your hands moving around me, to my waist, caressing my belly, grinding your cock into the crack of my ass. One hand caressing the backs of my thighs, your nails raking up my ass cheeks and spreading them apart as you stroke your cock against the back of my silk thong, up against my skirt, one hand holding me up as I balance in my heels, my pussy getting so wet. And then your mouth, moving down my back as your hands swiftly turn me to face you, my back against the glass, as you lift my skirt and slide down my body, pushing my bra up to cup and squeeze my tits, hard so it hurts, tweaking the nipples, leaving my shirt up, my tits swollen and exposed for you. You spread the lips of my pussy with your fingers, looking up at me with that look of pure hunger.

"Say my name, bitch. I want to hear it. Make some noise for me. "

And then your tongue on my clit as you open me up, your hands on my ass as I spread my pussy for you. Eating me, licking my clit and nibbling on it. God so good. as I moan against you. You pull back.

"Show it to me. Show me what you do when you're thinking about me."

My fingers sweep my clit so slowly for you, smooth hard strokes up down, up down and all I want is for you to put your mouth back there but you're looking at it as I finger myself, looking at my thighs with my skirt hiked up.

"Mm mm mm," you say in that scoldy way.

God I want you to call me all sorts of names right now. But you just tell me again that that's the fucking hottest thing you've ever seen.

And then your hands go back on my ass as you start to fuck me with your mouth, with your fingers, and I have my hands in your hair and I can feel the oil on your skin and I just keep smoothing your forehead while you're eating me. Up against the glass, they can see from across the street and the light is on, and then you're up against me, still standing as I wrap a leg around you and your cock teases my hot wet pussy that I keep so tight for you and as you grind me, your hands work around to the back and now you've got me by both wrists and it hurts, pulling my shoulders back, my tits out. With a moment like wildfire you've cut the cord off the venetian blind and they fall in a cascade as you bind my wrists and toss me on the bed.

And as always, you look at me as you come in and start to fuck me hard, biting my tongue and teasing my mouth and torturing my already sore nipples and plundering my ass and you're still there saying,

"Come on, say my name. "

Three little letters. I scream them. You slam into me hard and I take it, all of it, every inch of the plow, you deep inside this ring of desire. You fuck me until you're exhausted, until my pussy clenches around your cock in helpless climax, until you shoot it all up into me and lay on top of me, spent. I want to feed you until you're full. You think you'll never be satisfied but you could be. You fuck me until you can't fuck anymore.

Burn this.

I miss sucking your cock.

I miss the way you smell. I miss the way you dig in your ear when you think no one is watching. The way you carefully adjust your hair, which is so easy to mess up. The way you hold a knife and the way you lace your boots. I miss watching you from across the room while you put on your makeup. I miss your tobacco.

I miss the way you got so good at kissing me even though it was often a surprise, and all your little products and routines. I miss putting my hand in your shorts in the bathroom while you were washing your face. I miss running lines with you, because it was the closest we ever got to snuggling. I miss how tight you held my wrist because you knew I liked it. And I miss all those times in the dark that were the closest we ever got to fucking.

Oh, I know this is too emotional for you. It's too emotional for me. But it's not hurting anybody, tiger. I won't put it to the test if you won't.

I miss how you would back up against me before going onstage and would pinch me and usually not care where. I miss when you'd accidentally get tender and open with me. I miss the time we both started singing Proud Mary and every time we burst into song and all the stuff we talked about that noone else got. I miss your hands on my tits.

I miss watching you flirt your way to fame. I miss your arrogance and your little man bag. I miss giving you presents. I miss being part of your secret life. I miss stroking your naked back from the neck to the ass with my hand.

I miss chasing you down the street. I miss calling and getting your outgoing message and not leaving a message.

I miss the literary references. I miss your dirty jokes and your complete incredulity at things many people take for granted. I miss how you would stop like a child in the street just to look at things. Your awe at the spider. The way you'd tell me to fuck off.

I miss so much more than just how easy you are to turn on. Your crassness, your inattention, your brutal brutal honesty and your brutal little lies. I miss how you're like a display case that needs a crowbar. I miss the crowbar.

I miss being called Killer.

Wanna hear it?

Go to www.sonicerotica.com and download the mp3 of "A Little Correction", the story that started The Midnight Cafe!

Jungle Fever. A played out term for a hot night.

A girl's gotta have her priorities. Your black skin, muscular body and huge cock are standard issue. But smart, professionally employed and single? Check check check. And nice car. You look good getting out of it. With my very delicate, very pale skin, and soft curves, we're going to look great getting it on. Your hardness, my softness. We're going to look like dessert. I wish there was a mirror in my room.

You're friendly, too, and your shoes are so clean! As we walk up to my door, I ask you if you're nervous. "Nah," you say. "Are you?" "A little," I say.

You have expensive taste in vodka...luckily I have your brand on hand. I watch you looking around my apartment as I make you a drink.

Your hand's on my shoulder while we drink and talk. You start just gently stroking it, then put your drink down. "Still nervous?" you say. I put your fingers in my mouth. You watch me.

"Why don't you put that somewhere else?" you say.
"It hasn't been half an hour yet," I say.
"Let me suck those tits for you," you say.

We don't kiss. Instead, we keep it friendly. You move one side of my lowcut shirt down with your hand, and start sucking on my tits. Gentle, but firm. Your dark mouth on my soft white voluptuousness is beautiful to watch. You smell good. Your hand moves to my pussy, sliding under my jean skirt and pulling aside my black lace panties. Your fingers are strong, confident, as is your voice as you make your next desire clear.

"Come on, little slut, come on. Come for me. Come on my finger. That's right, slut, you like that?" Come right on my finger. No, don't fake it, bitch. Come now. "

For a moment I panic. What if I can't? You'll know. This guy will know. Smart guys do.

"Come on." You continue to urge, and my moans escalate. You are definitely driving this train. Oh yeah. I let go, and come like you want. I'm shocked at myself.

But I don't have that much time, because you are very firmly guiding me to my knees. Standing, you unzip your pants. I am kneeling in front of a fantasy, a huge, hard, very dark cock standing up nice and firm against cut, tight abs. Yum. I don't need encouragement to start in on it.

It's thick, very clean. I want to spend more time working it with my tongue, licking your head and your balls. But you have a deep need for deep throat, and you're nasty and demanding about it, talking me through it as you gag me with it. "Come on. That's right. Suck that shit."

White guys never call it shit.

"Open up. Open up. Open up for me, you little slut." You trap my hands and fuck my mouth as tears come to my eyes. Gentleman you are, though, you back off.

"Wanna move to the bedroom?" I ask. "Yeah," you say. You sit on the bed and I continue sucking on it, on my knees. You're working my throat deep, and it's challenging, and it hurts, and it's really turning me on. Finally you pull me up from my knees and turn me onto the bed like a pancake, my ass up in the air, taking my panties down, moving up my skirt. I am on my hands and knees so I don't see you whip out the Trojan Magnum. You got style, baby. All I feel is your hands on my ass as you slide your cock into my pussy for round one.

You are an athletic, precise fuck. I feel like a queen with your cock inside me, especially the way you're taking me. I love being slammed doggie style.

"You like that black dick, you little slut?" Yes I do. And I like that you're willing to mention it. You push me down harder, still inside. Your hands trap my wrists, your mouth on the back of my neck "Come on, wind on my dick now. Come on it. That's right." I squirm and squirm. God yes.

Your fingers caress the tip of my ass, slowly circling the hole as you fuck me, still talking dirty. Then one finger. Oh yeah I love being opened up two ways at once. Moaning now. Other hand grabbing me by the hair.

Now you're pulling out and I can feel the lube squirting down my asshole. Your finger moving from one to two. You work me slowly, opening me up for it as I push against your finger like a good girl, knowing if I go at just the right speed you're going to put a big black cock up my tight white ass and it's going to feel amazing. We open together in silence for a while and then you start with the tip. In a bit, then out, and then it starts to hurt, and you back off, listening, your hand soft on my shoulder. Then in, focused on it, focused on how good it's going to be to work you up there. More. slow. Pushing gently, past the pain, into it. Yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck yeah.

We start to move faster. You're fucking my ass and I'm loving it. "You're a slut for black dick now," you say. "You have a big black dick up your ass and you love it, don't you." Fuck yeah. I tell you how much.

Later you'll slide between my tits and shoot all over my mouth and I'll lick the come off your cock and smooth the rest into my skin and we'll laugh about how French women use it as face cream. But right now...

My moaning, loud. So loud. The windows open. The white girl getting it on with the black stud. In the ass. There goes the neighborhood.