Bad Girls, Good Sex 2: Naughty Not Nice
By
Francesca Jolie
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Chances Press, LLC on Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 by Francesca Jolie
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
***
All I Want For Christmas Is A Married Black Man
I always considered those people who camped out in front of stores for hours in the bitter cold Thanksgiving nights crazy. After all, what kind of sale could possibly be worth having to pee in a plastic bottle so as not lose your place in line? My mind changed though when I found out one department store planned to sell one hundred new qPad tablets for twenty-five dollars a piece. I had wanted one of those ever since they were offered for sale that summer. Sleek, small, but full of power they were...sort of like me.
After I finished Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house I packed up a “care kit” to get me through the night: a blanket, water, and granola bars all crammed into a gym bag.
“Lola, you are crazy!” my friend Marissa said rolling her eyes as I prepared to brave the elements all in the name of cheap electronic purchases.
“I want one of those qPads!” I insisted, checking my reflection in her living room mirror before taking off.
Marissa plopped himself on her oversized leather sofa and looked at me just shaking her head.
“Girl, you're crazy,” she said. “And what you doing checking yourself out for? You planning on picking up a trick or two in that line? Planning on offering your body warmth to a few hard men?”
“Hardly,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But a girl should always be prepared. I caught these married guys checking me out just the other day at some sports bar downtown.”
“Whatever,” Marissa said, reaching for the extra piece of pumpkin pie she had cut herself and set on her coffee table. “You always think that married men are checking you out.”
“Because they are!” I exclaimed. “Don't ask me why, but if there's a married man within a five mile area with the least little bit of a wandering bone in his body he wants to show his boner to me.”
As much as Marissa didn't want to believe me, I just stated fact. I had boned so much married cock that the mind boggled. I was a little girl. Only five feet three inches tall, light-skinned Puerto Rican, long curly black hair, and, oh, did I forget to mention the most perfect d-cup breasts with perky rose red nipples.
I ran a hand through my curls, straightened the fashionable black rim glasses on my face, and zipped up my short chic black leather jacket.
“Wish me luck!” I said, walking out of Marissa's townhouse and towards my car. I was a woman on a mission!
I arrived at Bacy's department store at a nearby mall. I couldn't believe other people were already in line. The store wouldn't open for another six hours. I frantically counted to make sure more than one hundred people weren't already in line because you just know everyone wanted one of those qPads. When I counted sixty-four I exhaled in relief and tried to make myself as comfortable as one could on a asphalt mall parking lot.
Many people brought folding chairs, and I even saw a couple with a small tent. Talk about hardcore! I sat down on the curb, took out my blanket, wrapped it around myself and tried to close my eyes to rest some. But the chilly wind kept my eyes open and my nipples hard!
“Nooooooo!” I heard a small child scream.
I looked down the line and that was the first time I saw the man. About six people down in line was a black family. The wife wore a long faux fur coat, and the children, one boy and one girl around seven or eight each, had been fitted in layers of sweaters and thick jackets. But then I really checked out the dad. Talk about a wall of man! Dude had to be six foot six, stocky and at least double my weight, dark complexioned skin, and short cropped curly black hair. He reminded me of a linebacker, and if you're into handsome macho big black dudes, he'd probably make your pussy sloppy wet.
“Dondre, I told you if you want that qPad so bad, you're going to wait in line with us,” the mother told the boy, straightening the hat on his head.
I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. I mean people pulled their children into this crazy shopping insanity, too! Talk about grooming the next generation of consumers.
I glanced at that mountain of a man, and he appeared to have an irritated look on his face as if this were the last place he wanted to be tonight. He looked mentally removed from the whole situation as the mother gave the children juice boxes and blankets.
All of a sudden, he looked down and our eyes met. He caught me staring at him, and I quickly looked away doing my best to appear uniterested. But when I dared to let my gaze travel back up, I saw him still looking at me while the mother fussed over the children.
Aw, shit! Was this another married man checking me out? I cursed the romance forces in the universe. Why couldn't they ever send me a single, well-adjusted, educated, employed man instead of these married wandering eyed bastards? I mean is it really that difficult? Sure, I kind of got off on a guy with a wife sucking my nipples and ramming his cock in my tight pussy. I'd had so many “married men” salivate over my bootlicious ass I couldn't count them. You would think they were dying of thirst and my nips had water in them the way they hungrily sucked them.
I cannot mess with another married man, I told myself. At least that’s what I told my therapist, too! After all, a New Year would be upon us soon, a time to reinvent one’s self, and I was going to start a new man plan....one that included available men and not just available for the next ten minutes.
Our stares met, and he didn't look away or even blink.
He is checking me out, I thought. I know that look, the one that says the minute my wife looks away my cock goes on the hunt.
I averted my eyes, straightened my blanket, and decided to ignore him. My only mission was the get my hot little hands on a qPad not some married dick.
The next few hours went by excruciatingly slow as the air became colder and colder. I couldn't help myself but look back at the family behind me every now and then. I mean how could I not be a little curious, right?
The wife had fallen asleep on the curb with the two kids propped up against her. But dad was wide awake, and every time I looked back at him, he would look me right in the eye. It was if he could feel my eyes on him each and every time. He'd hold my gaze almost daring me to continue looking. He didn't smile, grimace, or anything. But, like I said, I knew that look. He was hungry for something that wife of his couldn't give him, and he had zeroed in on a little Puerto Rican gal who he thought just might do the job.
Finally, once it felt like we had been sitting out there for days, a store employee came out and gave the people in line wristbands to keep track of the first one hundred people. Finally! Victory!
As the employee, who looked none too pleased to be out of bed so early, wrapped a band around my right hand I looked at the watch on my left hand. Five thirty. Game on in just half an hour.
I watched the mom and dad get their wristbands out of the corner of my eye. The children moaned and groaned they were hungry and cold.
“You think Santa complains about the cold,” the mom snapped at the kids.
“Not much longer, baby,” the dad said in a very deep booming voice to the daughter.
Damn, that voice was deep, a guttural testosterone filled voice that just by its tone suggested man.
When the employees finally opened the door, the rush began as everyone piled towards the front doors. I could feel bodies pressed against me, and I attempted to hold onto my gym bag of supplies. Christmas shopping can sure bring out the worst in people as some shoppers screamed, “Let us in!” and “It's time!”
The warm heat surrounded me like a flannel comforter once we were inside, and I pushed my small frame through the crowd to where they told us the qPads would be waiting for those with wristbands.
“Get out of my way!” I heard the mom's now familiar voice bark at other customers as she bulldozed her way to the back of the store.
I proudly flashed my wristband, and a perky blond employee, who looked too perky for this, handed me my qPad. Success! Mission Accomplished!
Now, I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.
I made my way to the cashier. The line was still fairly empty as most people were clamoring for other “bargains” as well. All I could think about was playing with my...new qPad underneath my electric blanket at home.
I paid for my purchase, and then tried to make my way through the still incoming crowd back to the exit. I started to pass the family with the yummy, shouldn't be thinking about this, married dad, and I heard that deep assertive voice say, “I gotta go piss. You stay with the kids.”
I looked over and he stared straight at me before turning around and heading towards the back of the store.
My first thought was to keep walking to the exit. I didn't need any more already claimed cock. Call it a morning while I'm ahead with my purchase and go on home. But as I began to walk away, I saw the piece of beefy maleness glance back. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see if I was following him.
My pussy started to moisten in my pants. I couldn't help it! My clit became engorged at the thought of seeing what was in this guy's pants, and I noticed he had a nice big juicy booty. Damn, how I'd like to have that on my face sometime.
I was powerless now. The power of my pussy had taken over. Oh, alright.
I headed towards the back of the store following big daddy's steps. I didn't know what he had in mind exactly, but I sure as hell was curious enough to find out. Even if all I got was a glimpse of some hard chocolate in a back corner, at least it would be brain material to finger myself with for later.
I saw he was heading in the direction of Santa’s Workshop, a big faux gingerbread house roped off with a “Staff Only!” sign. I guessed Santa was still sleeping in because he had yet to make an appearance at the store this morning. Before he jumped the red rope around the house, he turned around one last time, checked to see who was looking (no other shoppers cared…there were sales going on) and glanced back at me. His eyes locked with mine, and then he walked in.
Before I walked in, I paused for a second. I remembered my promise earlier to myself to only worry myself with available men. But my heart rate had quickened and my nipples had hardened. The urge had become so strong, so overwhelming I couldn't even think straight.
I took a deep breath, checked to make sure no employees were looking, jumped the rope and swung the door open.
He stood over in the corner with a Santa hat he managed to find propped on top of his head. I knew one slab of man who could come down my chimney. He glanced down, and I noticed his huge (at least ten inch) thick and juicy chocolate cock hanging out of his pants. He held it in his right hand, and began to stroke it slowly. Just as before, our eyes met, but this time he nodded in acknowledgment. With his head, he motioned towards the door, and that's when I knew he wanted me to block it which one of little elf chairs. I did without the least bit of hesitation now.
I walked over towards him with the butterflies in my stomach going into overdrive. I unzipped my pants, licked my finger, and stuck it inside my panties. As I started to touch myself, I got even more moist while I watched him vigorously stroking that baton of a hard dong.
He smiled a little, and I reached over to take that warm hard cock in my hand. He had gotten more than rock hard now, and his free hand reached into his underwear. He released a big set of heavy furry balls. Damn! I love big balls. I just like thinking about all that spooge swirling around in there, and it makes me want to spread my legs so he can aim it right inside me.
He started nodding his head as if agreeing with me on something while I started to stroke him faster and faster with one hand and finger fucking myself with the other.
I ran my hand over his shaft and then the head, my palm becoming coated with his precum.
He didn't take his eyes off my perky breasts and hard nipples practically trying to bust out of my sweater.
I kept stroking him. Faster. Faster.
Suddenly, he let out a grunt and then said, “Fuck!”
What he did next completely caught me off guard. He dropped to his knees and pressed me back against the wall. He was so tall though he still had to scooch down some to roughly pull down my pants and panties. He buried his face in my Brazillian waxed pussy and began to eat me out within an inch of my life. His big strong hands reached up behind my back, unclasped my bra, and he started to twist my nipples while his tongue went deeper inside me.
This sure as hell isn't his first time at the rodeo, I thought to myself as he slurped on my vage and then ran his tongue along my ladylips.
“Mmmmm,” he said, as he tasted me.
I couldn't believe how deep he his long strong tongue went inside, either. Yeah, this fucker had had plenty of practice.
I placed my hands on his head letting my fingers run through those dark curls, and I looked down at his nice fat piece of ass. How I would love to have this fucker lay face down on a bed and let me taste that tight juicy ass. I loved to rim, and I found that most men loved it when I chewed on their buttholes, too. Most of them had no idea how sensitive and erotic that area of their body could be.
I felt an orgasm start to travel from deep within me as his tongue and throat did everything it could to bring me to a fast climax. I knew he didn't have much time, and he obviously knew how to get right to the heart of what he wanted to eat.
“Trey! You in there?” I heard the wife's voice boom as she tugged on the blocked door. “What are you doing in there?”