Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 02

I go to visit Cheryl not long after my first episode with Marie. As soon as I walk through her mother's front door, she catches me with her almond-shaped, hazel, hypnotic eyes. She doesn't rush into my arms, she simply melts into my embrace and kisses me in that way that I love. I hug her tight and I realize why I love her so much all over again.

"One month," she says in a husky tone. "Piece of cake, right?" She's looking me up and down like she could sop me up with a biscuit.

"Shiiitt," I whisper, eying her like she's a tender lamb and I'm the Big, Bad Wolf. "As soon as I get you alone, I'm gonna FYBO."

She flashes me a sexy grin. "Not if I FYBO first," she says, gently rubbing the lump in my jeans. "But you'd better tuck this away before my mother sees it."

I nod. "Let me see how you're treating Momma A," I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and walking into the living room. I expect to see Cheryl's mother, Andrea, in a wheelchair. But she's standing with the aid of crutches. She carefully makes her way to me and I hug her as she leans into my chest. I make sure she can't feel my stirrings down below.

"You look good, real good, Momma A," I say, kissing her on the forehead. Andrea's built similar to her daughter, a shapely woman with a little extra padding about the hips and thighs. But I can tell she's lost some weight since the last time I saw her. Since it's probably because of the stroke, I don't mention it.

"I'm a tough old bird, and don't you forget it," Andrea replies, leaving me to take a rest on the sofa. "And my baby girl's taking good care of me. Doctor says I'm recovering ahead of schedule because of her."

Cheryl smiles proudly at me. "I'll reward you for that later," I whisper in her ear while secretly squeezing her asscheek. This brings a small purr from her plush lips. That's when the front door quickly opens and closes. A second later, her older brother Claude enters the room. He's managed to free up a couple of weeks to give Cheryl some relief. I can only swing one weekend a month here, but I'm going to make the best of them.

"Hey, hey, old man," he says, giving me a firm handshake. "How was your trip?"

"Smooth as silk," I answer. "I was just in a hurry to get here and see my honey," I add, drawing Cheryl close again to give her a kiss on the cheek. This time, my wife doesn't meet my gaze. Claude also looks uncomfortable.

Cheryl and Claude, they've always been close, much closer than any other brother and sister I've known. They favor each other, having the same caramel skin tone and the same brown hair. Up til now I'd never seen them all weird around each other. But what am I thinking? Just a month ago they almost lost their mother, and they've made some major adjustments in their personal lives to take care of her. That would strain any relationship, right?

"You came right on time," says Claude in that rich voice of his. "Momma A and I have been talking about how Cheryl needs a break. So I took the liberty of reserving a hotel room downtown for the weekend. It's after three o'clock now so you can check in any time you want."

"CLAUDE!" my wife exclaims, disengaging from me and leaping into her brother's arms. "You are the BEST!"

He hugs her back with gusto. I can see the thick muscles of his arms flexing from here. The man is hard and lean. I mean, he actually has a rippling six-pack. He's got Terrence Howard good looks and the total hotness thing going for him. And to me, he's holding my wife just a beat too long. Still, ain't no need for me to be jealous of him. Right?

"Well, honey, then we should get going," Cheryl says as her sibling slowly releases her. "You sure this is okay, Momma?"

"Child, yes," sighs Andrea, leaning back on the sofa cushions. "Claude's here, it's about time he got his fair share of work done for me. You go take care of your husband."

We all exchange hugs and kisses again, and then Cheryl and I hit the road. Forty-five minutes later finds us signed into our hotel. Ten minutes afterwards, after a swift elevator ride to the tenth floor, we locate Room 1011. I insert the key card and we have access to the largest hotel suite I've ever seen. Got to hand it to Claude, he's not cheap. There's even a heart-shaped jacuzzi in this bitch.

I collapse on the king-sized bed as Cheryl strips to her bra and panties and runs the water in the jacuzzi. She moves about on shaky legs, gathering bath oils, wash cloths and such before removing her underwear and resting on the edge of the tub. Her hand gauges the temperature of the water before she slips in, sinking up to her neck and leaning back with a loud sigh.

"Mmmmm," she breathes as the warm waters swirl around her lush body. "You joining me, sleepyhead?"

"Yeah, yeah, coming," I say. Truly, after the long drive it takes all of my strength to climb off the soft bed, undress, and slide in next to my wife. I begin to massage her neck and shoulders and she relaxes against me. One of my hands reach around, under her arm, to cup one of her C-cup tits, tweaking the thick, chocolate nipple into hardness. She moans as my other hand glides between her soft thighs and palms her mound.

Now, I've never been able to fuck in a jacuzzi. The warm water enervates me, literally sucking the starch out of my hard-on. It also washes away all of Cheryl's natural lubrication. So I move to her side, giving me the room to push two fingers into her frothy depths, coating them liberally. Then I sweep them up through her tender lips, circling her clit. I repeat this until her thobbing bud is good and slick. The tip of my digits strum her button lightly while I continue to pinch her nips and suckle her favorite spot on her caramel-toned neck.

"OooHHhh, honey, I m-missed your t-touch," she moans. "Yes YEESS right THERE oh baby oh baby OOHH BAABBYYY I'm fucking CCCUUUUMMMII--"

She thrashes about as the orgasm hits her, making water spill over the sides. I'd missed how she announces her cums.

Cheryl turns around and straddles my lap, thrusting her soft tits forward, the inch-long paps pressing hard into my lips. "Sweet muthafucka," she hisses as I reach up and smush her breasts together, making both nipples touch and peak. "I've been dreaming of you doing that for weeks."

It's a good thing I'm dark-skinned, hiding my blush, because it's then that I remember what I was doing just last week with her friend, Marie. I snare her dark tips between my teeth and bite gently, making her twat bubble with juice under the water.

"UuuNngghh, yeeaahhh, do that," she moans, cradling my shaved head. "I love what you do to my titties, honey." Her hips gyrate wildly against my prick and, despite my guilt and despite the swirling waters, it begins to respond. I reach between us as it thickens and I squeeze the base, making it just hard enough to penetrate my wife's moist, blossoming petals. Groaning while still gnawing her rubbery teats, I hunch my pelvis upward, jamming a good three inches up into her. Once it's wrapped around the familiar, velvety goodness of Cheryl's quim, my fat, black dong lurches to full hardness.

My sweet darling takes full advantage of my cock, churning her hips and grinding into me. I palm each cheek of her fat ass and pull her against me, feeling her turgid clit rasp along the top of my dick. My plump, mushroom head then nudges her cervix and we both know that I am truly home.

We kiss deeply, panting into each other's mouths. Cheryl pulls back, giving me a wicked grin while pumping her hips especially hard. "FYBO?" she breathes.

I shake my head and grip her ass tightly, forcing her to hold still for a minute. "Don't have the energy for that, baby," I reply as she kisses my bald pate. "Let's just do it nice and slow, just like this..."

She laughs softly. "Nuh uh, baby," she says as she posts up and down on my rigid stalk, the water becoming much more agitated with our movement. "I've been waiting for your big ole dick for a full month, and I'm going to Fuck Your Brains Out right fucking NOW whether you want me to or not."

Now I ask you, what's a brutha to do when his woman is craving the cock like this? "Shit, honey, I don't think you can," I say, challenging her as I reach up and latch onto the sides of the jacuzzi. "I mean, you're moving that sweet ass around, but you ain't doin' nuthin."

That evil grin returns to Cheryl's face, and her twisting twat gives my thick prick two quick squeezes. "Okay, beeAATCH, I warned you," she hisses, "now hang on for the ride!"

What she proceeds to do then is something I haven't experienced since we first met. Her hips churn, buck, and bounce all over my stiff chocolate prod. We're both groaning loudly; she roars through three orgasms, each one making her creaming quim clamp down on me so goddamn tight. As she hits her fourth cum I grab her switching tail once more and fire several hot volleys of steamy sauce up into her. And for the first time in my life, I'm staying hard!

My wife stands up then, still looking as ravenous as a female lion after a fresh kill on the Serengeti. She steps out of the tub, dripping wet and with my white cum streaming down her plump, caramel thighs.

"Come on," she beckons, her supple asscheeks rippling as she mounts the bed on her elbows and knees, thrusting her tail up proudly. "You know you want it, fucker. Come get my ass, fuck me til you drop, baby!"

I rise like a zombie, my supernatural hard-on leading the way, my glazed eyes focusing squarely on her wide, swishing hips. I grip her tightly, my fingers digging into her flesh as my fat, mushroom cap kisses her clasping vaginal opening. "You have such a nice ass," I grunt as I jam into her, gliding all the way to her back wall with one stroke.

At that point, I lose it. I grip Cheryl by her haunches and I proceed to fuck the living shit out of her. She groans deeply in a mixture of pleasure and pain as my pelvis goes on automatic and my thick cockhead bangs her drum again and again.

I don't know where the energy comes from. This is beyond desire, beyond exhaustion. I want to give her all of me; I want to restore to her what I gave to Marie, exceed it by a power of ten, own her, possess her again.

"Oh--my--God--OH--MY--GODDD!" she moans, each word punctuated by a hard thrust of my dark, iron rod. "OooHHH Steve that's the spot muthaFUCKA THAT'S THE SPOT OooHHH SHIIITTT--"

Cheryl's lush body shivers all over as she rips through another orgasm. I look down as I take another long stroke; my dark shaft glistens with the slick mixture of our cum. Her steamy scent flares my nostrils and I suddenly feel like a Kentucky Derby winner mounting a wild mare. Damn, this is the shit!

My honey lowers her face to the bed, then, gritting her teeth as her hands claw the comforter. We've been going at it for the better part of an hour. Her pussy must be getting just as sore as my prick. At this point, I'm not even sure I can cum again.

"Oh, Steve, shit, you've got to slow down, baby, god DAMN you're fucking me so DEEP," Cheryl says, her voice strained. "You win, honey, oooohh fuuuccckkk, you fucking WIN you FUCKED my goddamn BRAINS out so please CUM honeyyyy, please cummmm..."

Damn. I want to keep going til I burn out, because this brutha LOVES to fuck. But it's only 5pm; the night's still young. So I acquiesce, shifting my thrusts from hard and jarring to smooth and silky. I can get more sensation this way, and within a minute I feel that buzz at the base of my spine and that tingle in my balls. My grip on her asscheeks increases ever so slightly, and Cheryl responds by grinding her hips into mine, twisting right and left, corkscrewing the cum right out of my throbbing shaft and forcing me to shoot it deep within her snatch.

We both breathlessly collapse on the bed. After a few minutes, we crawl under the sheets and cuddle. I'm soothing her, caressing her back as she lays her head on my chest. Suddenly, Cheryl lifts up, gazes into my eyes intently, and kisses me very deeply.

"You know I love you very, very much, don't you?" she says, looking so vulnerable at that moment.

"Yes, I do, honey," I answer sincerely, "and I love you."

"Mmmmm," she hums with satisfaction. With that, she again rests her head on my chest and drifts off to sleep.

And that's the way it goes for the remainder of Friday through Sunday morning. We have intense bouts of hard fucking, followed by tender affirmations of love. Something's on Cheryl's mind, but she's not voicing it. So neither do I share about Marie.

By the time we make it back to Momma A's Sunday afternoon, it's like the past month never happened. Cheryl and I are complete again. And on the drive home, I convince myself that I can resist Marie, and I can wait until I see my sweet wife next month.

When I arrive home, Providence seems to be smiling on me. Marie has sent me an email; she and Johnny are out of town, touring race tracks for a week or two, putting Johnny's garage car through its paces.

Fine by me. I throw myself into my work. There are computer audits to do. I have my hands full, with 150 machines to cover. But soon, within a week-and-a-half of my return, the urges begin to hit. It's not too long before I start gritting my teeth and getting snippy with my workmates.

But I'm not helpless. After one particularly-tough day, I hole up in my study--my "man cave"--crank up my laptop, and start browsing the online porn sites. My main source dried up when my internet service provider cut off access to most of the newsgroups. But I soon found some Flash-driven web sites to replace them. If anything, I'm resourceful.

It's not long before my pants are open and my dark dong is sticking out of my tighty-whities. I'm stroking it to one of my favorite videos. In it, a plump white girl is fucking herself hard with a big black dildo while buzzing her clit with one of those "back massagers." Her legs are thrown high in the air and her chestnut hair is tousled, partially hiding her face. But the best part is when she climaxes: she shoots her juice nearly ten feet! Yeah, I love the squirters, man. They really push my buttons.

Anyway, the stroking is getting good, real good. The dark-red head of my prick is swollen; pre-cum leaks out and my thumb smears it all over my sensitive head. I'm pinching my left nipple, which is sending electric jolts to my throbbing shaft. That familiar tingle is starting just below my churning balls.

The girl in the video has this habit of counting to three before she gushes. My hand is racing up and down my fat black prod, because I want to reach my peak when she does.

"One!" she shouts, her hand plunging the dildo very deep inside herself. I groan at the sight and sound of her creaming twat. Making a ring of my thumb and index finger, I twist them under the flared rim of my fat, mushroom cap. That makes me yelp with pleasure.

"Two!" she moans. Now her hips are thrusting up to meet the fake cock, and the muscles in her plump thighs are straining. I tweak my nipple harder as I stroke my twitching dick from head to base. My head lolls back and my toes curl. Fuck, this is going to be a good one, I think as I prepare to blast off.

"THR--" BANG! BANG! BANG!

The girl squirts on cue. But the loud banging on my front door has short-circuited my own orgasm. This sure as fuck better be the COPS, I grouse as I zip up my pants. Sure, I got a tent in my crotch a mile long, but shit, this MY house. If they don't like what they see, they can leave--which is what I want them to do, anyway.

The banging continues and I'm shouting a full stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush. I yank the front door wide open and scream, "WHAT THE *FUCK* DO YOU WAN--"

Standing there in a charcoal, pinstriped pantsuit is Trixie, my wife's friend. The suit has been tailored perfectly to fit her lush BBW curves. My eyes wander from her thick thighs up to her torso, which is covered by a cream, silk blouse. Her massive tits are straining the buttons, the top two of which are undone, revealing deep, milk-chocolate cleavage. When my bulging orbs finally reach her face, her pouty, glossy lips are smirking at me. Her hair is pulled back in a large Afro-puff, and her big, brown eyes are arched mockingly.

"Daammnn, Steve," she says. "You always answer the door like this, cursin' and with yo' dick pokin' out? What if I was a Girl Scout, selling cookies?"

I'm still pissed off, but she has me. "What you need, woman? You know Cheryl ain't here."

"Obviously, Mr. Big Dick Smarty-Pants," she chuckles, openly appraising my hard-on. "I'm here to see you, Steve," she adds, brushing by me to enter my house. As she passes by, her big, soft hip nudges my covered dong. I barely stifle a groan.

"I have an emergency," Trixie continues, dropping a black carrying case on my coffee table. "This is my husband's laptop. He catchin' a flight to Chicago in three hours and he wants me to bring it to him at the airport. Problem is," she says, plopping on the sofa with an exasperated sigh, "he locked hisself out of his desktop, and he needs you to get him back in."

I scratch my bald head. "How'd he lock himself out? Doesn't he know his own password?"

"He says he changed it and forgot what it is now," she replies. "Look, he got some important spreadsheets on here and he'll be in some serious shit if he can't get to them. Can you help?"

Okay, there are two things you need to know about Trixie. First, she's a schemer. Cheryl has regaled me with tales of how Trixie gets what she wants when she wants it, and she's not particular on how it happens. I've heard of her meteoric rise from secretary to office manager to assistant vice president of marketing. She did nothing illegal, but there are some knife wounds in some co-workers' backs. That shit always comes back to haunt you.

Second, Trixie is sexy as hell. She's a big girl, but she exudes supreme self-confidence. That makes her radiate sensuality in waves. (That's what most BBWs don't get. The size doesn't matter. If you dress well and carry yourself like you own the world--or at least your corner of it--damn, that's sexy as all get out.) And right now, the waves are radiating all over my twitching cock. I move until I'm standing in front of her. The tent in my slacks is at mouth level, and she begins speaking into it like it's a microphone.

"Fuck, Steve, will you get that thing outta my FACE?" she asks, a little flustered. "Do you know how long it's been since I seen a hard dick?"

Sometimes I forget that her husband, Theo, is impotent. At least with her. But I stand my ground; I want her as off-balance as possible so she doesn't have time to work up a lie. "Listen, Trix," I start, using Cheryl's nickname for her, "what's this all about? Don't piss up my back and tell me it's raining. You're not going to run a line on me. So spill. What did you do to that laptop? And remember, you're running out of time."

She bites her lip before letting out a sigh. I feel her warm breath wash over my prick through two layers of clothing, making it visibly jump.

"Okay, shit," Trixie hisses. "I was fuckin' around, tryin' to log on. I tried four times an' then the bitch locked on me. If you can't get it unlocked, we're both screwed. He really does have alla his business crap on here. So c'mon, stud. Help me out."

"Damn, Trix, I really don't know if I can," I reply honestly. "I'm going to have to try some really wild shit. It might make things worse. I don't even think I should try."

Our eyes meet and she looks at me very intently for a moment. Then her gaze slowly drifts down my chest, over my gut, and settles on my bobbing cock. That's when her full, glossy lips curl up in a smirk again.

"Then I have a little business proposition for you," she breathes, sensually licking her lips just inches from my bulge. My traitorous love muscle spasms involuntarily, and I can feel my pre-cum leaking out in my underwear, getting them all sticky. Now I have to wonder who's off-balance, here.