Leasa is CookingbyNomeaux Patience©
(Note: Thanks, again, to LeasaJ, whose sexiness remains my inspiration.)
It was that time of night again.
"Roll call!" The warning, a street-born, universally recognized alarm system echoed down the block, alerting the natives that an intruder approached. It was, "five-oh," or, "da man." From the low roar of the motorcycle engine I knew it was that same seemingly bigoted C.H.I.P. who rousted this poor, black neighborhood at least twice every weekend.
I had gotten to know him well in the three months I'd lived in Northern California. On my first day of my new job as a paramedic, I met Andy Jons at a near fatal traffic accident. He was the cop in charge. I was driving a backup ambulance.
In the three months as our paths crossed, I grew to tolerate him because he's a nice guy and a decorated cop, despite an aura of arrogance that alluded to the bigot within.
Though I'm black and divorced and Andy is white and married to some pampered princess, there were two things he and I definitely had in common. He seemed to like black pussy just like me, even if it was something I hadn't pursued or had any since before I left New York for the west coast. I had been without since right after my daughter graduated high school and I found out that my wife was pregnant with her boss' baby.
The other desire we shared was to fuck his wife. I had made up my mind that I was going to do just that. It was partly Andy's fault that I came to this decision. When he wasn't sneaking into alleys with young black girls in my neighborhood, he was bragging about having the sexiest wife on the planet.
I couldn't argue with him on that point. She was the daughter of some big time muckety muck in the governor's cabinet, a beautiful girl of privilege, naive and disinterested in how the rest of the world lived.
Jons showed me a topless picture of her that he carries in his wallet.
Leasa appears taller than average. Her long, athletically slim legs stretch forever upwards. In the photo, her legs disappear under a denim micro mini skirt that clings to her curvy hips lest it roll up and expose her.
Her full, buoyant, double-D-cup tits naturally defy gravity. The nipples so prominent that her lush and long blonde hair, swept from the back over her shoulders, couldn't cover them. I doubted that she knew Jons flashed her around like a trophy.
I had met her once at a ceremony where Andy and two local firefighters were honored for rescuing three old ladies from a burning senior center. After the ceremony he pulled me over to where she was waiting, showing me off like a new toy. I was the only black member in my division of the paramedic corps.
"Leasa baby, this is Big Jim," he said, stroking her plump butt through her tailored slacks to get her attention from the group of wives at the program.
My polite smile faded when I saw her reaction to the tall, dark figure leering down at her. My hand already as reaching, but she didn't immediately take it. She looked as though she was afraid I would rape her right there in front of a battalion of public safety officers.
"Go ahead, sweetie. You can shake his hand. It won't rub off," Andy said, apparently trying to lighten the moment.
"Hi Jim. Nice to meet you." She almost smiled. Her tiny hand felt like a baby doll compared to mine. I gripped her before she could jerk away, just long enough for us to feel each other's warmth.
"My pleasure, Leasa," I said, my eyes leaving her icy blues to roam over her body.
She turned away then, nervous and probably insulted. She didn't know it, yet, but Leasa Jons was about to come down with a chronic case of jungle fever, and I was to be the carrier.
That thought was on my mind when I saw Andy's bike coming down my street. He had invited me to their house for bar-b-cue the next day. But tonight, there he was cruising the 'hood. Jons didn't look up at my second-floor balcony as he rolled past, teasingly in pursuit of a pretty, dark-skinned teen-aged girl who ducked into a nearby alley.
I shook my head and puffed on my cigar. Before the stogie was finished, Jons came schlepping back out of the alley. That was his reputation. Scuttlebutt on the street was that he had a fast gun.
He paused in front of my building and waved up at me grinning.
"That's between you and me. Right bro?"
I answered by slowly exhaling a puff of smoke.
"See ya tomorrow Jimmy? I'll have the little lady cook up something special for you," he said.
"I'll see y'all tomorrow … that is, if you ain't too worn out from carousing tonight," I grinned back. "You stupid bastard," I thought to myself.
I went to bed, resisting the urge to jack off to Leasa's image.
I was the Jons' only guest the next day. I parked in their driveway, right behind the bright red Mustang convertible, and got the case of beer out of the trunk.
Andy had told me to meet him there, but he would arrive later, around noon, because he was working overtime. He said that I should feel free to arrive anytime after 11 a.m. He said Leasa was expecting me early because he had instructed her to get things started early.
At 11:30 I was on his back patio looking for somewhere to set down the cooler of Corona when I saw her. The sliding door was open and through the screen there she was. I was so stunned by her beauty that for several seconds I stood there, bent over with the cooler still in my grasp. I may have been drooling.
Leasa was standing on a utility stool, reaching for something in a kitchen cabinet. She wore headphones, apparently listening to music while she worked, unaware that I had a tantalizing view under her short, pleated skirt.
The bottom half of both succulent ass cheeks were visible. The Corona felt weightless in my hands as my mind wandered off. The beer probably could have rested on the instantly rigid boner that tented my baggy, below-the-knee cargo shorts.
If I were modest, I would have worn briefs under my pants. But I was on a mission this afternoon.
Leasa turned as she stepped off the stool and yelped in surprise at the big black man staring at her through the screen door. She quickly regained her composure and flashed a nervous smile as she came to the door, removing the headset.
"You startled me," she said, opening the screen for me. "You're early, Jim. Andy said you might be, but I forgot. Come on in."
I didn't move right away. I watched her hips swing as she walked toward the stove. She glanced back over her shoulder, her smile less flashy and more relaxed, seductive even.
"You gonna come in and put that thing down?"
I didn't know whether she meant the beer or the erection. I was not aware that she had seen my excitement until I saw her steal a quick look and turn away.
"I brought some beer," I said, stepping inside. "I didn't know what else to bring. I don't cook much, you know."
"Sorry if I scared you," I added.
I set the beer on a table and looked at her face. I saw this gorgeous woman's cheeks blush and her nostrils flutter. Her eyes were focused on my dick.
"What … Oh, yeah. No, don't apologize," she stuttered, avoiding my eyes.
I angled my 6-foot, 3-inch body in for a closer look at the generous portion of cleavage exposed by her V-neck T-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. I could tell by the way the jersey bunched ever so slightly atop each erect nipple.
She backed up against the sink. When she looked at me I was smiling slyly. I knew I already had her. I think she knew it, too.
She looked away again, but her gaze panned back to my groin. I couldn't hide it. If my shorts were not below my knees, the cause of the lump would have revealed itself. This time when she looked my hand was slowly massaging my meat through my pants.
Leasa gasped. Her face was a mixture of fright and excitement as her smile disappeared and she was breathing through her now parted lips.
"What are you doing? I think you better leave," Leasa said, mesmerized as she watched me boldly stroking and massaging myself. But there was no resolve in her demand.
I grabbed her by the wrists and pressed against her. "I saw your picture," I said to the top of her head. She would not look up at me.
"That bastard," she mumbled. "Let go of me and get the hell out!" Still, she wasn't fighting.
"I gotta check something first," I said. I released one of her hands and before she could react, I reached under her skirt. I was surprised. From behind, standing on the stool, it appeared that she wasn't wearing panties. Upon this closer inspection I found them, a cotton thong. It was moist with her juices.
Her firm thighs clamped on my hand as she squirmed to get free.
"I'll scream," she said, digging the nails of her free hand into my upper arm.
"You do and I'll beat that pretty face of yours until you're as ugly as your ho' hoppin' old man," I said through clenched teeth.
It was an idle, unnecessary threat because she wasn't breathing as much as she was panting against my chest. I took her hand and placed it on my hard-on, helping her close her fingers around it through my shorts.
With my other hand, I ripped the thong away, causing her to stiffen. Her mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. Her eyes bugged, searching for a reason why, or perhaps why not.
My fingers glided over her pussy, slick with her secretions and actually hot to the touch with nary a hair. I slipped a digit between her lips. She trembled and her thighs relaxed around my hand. Her fingers squeezed my rod. Her eyes said she was genuinely scared as she realized why Andy called me Big Jim.
I slipped my finger, with some difficulty, further into her wet tunnel.
"I can't do this," Leasa said, her deep, blue eyes pleading with me. Her grip slackened on my dick, but now she rubbed me through my shorts, measuring me.
"We can't. He'll be home any minute. He'd shoot us both," she said, breathless.
While my thumb made slow circles around her clit I leaned in to graze the skin on her neck with my thick lips and mustache.
Turning her to face the sink, I gently nibbled on her ear and whispered, "We can, and we will."
I was dripping in anticipation as I rubbed the head of my dick up and down her slit until the head was glazed with our commingled juices. I seated the head at her opening and pushed.
"It's not gonna fit, Jim," Leasa groaned. I applied more pressure.
"Just let me suck you … OOFFFfff!"
Her scream tailed off as I banged the head and a few inches into her.
"It's too big. Omygod! No! Take it out!"
I was not interested in her pleas. She would adjust. I knew this. They always did. Even my ex-wife, a big girl with a big pussy, had to get used to my girth. Leasa, by comparison, was a small girl. That meant, to me, she was all pussy, all sopping, tight pussy.
I slipped about half of my nine inches into her and paused. Her mouth was agape as if to scream, but no sound came out. Her gorged cunt spasmed and released more lubricant. It felt like a hot, buttered bun.
I remained motionless, but Leasa didn't. She started pushing back into me, slowly allowing her pussy to swallow the length of my shaft.
"Ohhh!" she moaned. "Hurry up, Jim. Andy'll be home any minute."
I decided to get her off quickly. I eased back until just the head was still lodged inside her. Then I began a series of long, deep, steady strokes, forcing the air out of her lungs on each penetration. The only sounds were her gasps and the squishing each time her juices were forced between her stretched cunt lips and my swollen dick.
After no more than two minutes, Leasa was cumming, so I picked up the pace. When the orgasm hit, I pressed into her as far as she could accommodate. I rotated my hips without pulling out.
"Ah! Ah! AAHHhh!" she yelled. "AH! I'm cumming!"
I kept myself deeply planted inside her until the quake died down. She looked over her shoulder at me and I launched a barrage of short jabs, in and out in and out, stirring her up again to a point where she was whimpering. Her head dipped into the empty sink. Her long, blonde hair was tousled and obscured her face.
"Please Jim," she managed to get out between thrusts. "Please, don't cum in me."
I kept pumping, faster and longer now. I reached around with both hands, gripping each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger. Through her cotton jersey I pinched and pulled on them, mauling her pliant orbs in my weather beaten hands.
"Ooohhh yesssss," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"No! No! You'll get me pregnant," she pleaded as I pushed her closer to the edge.
We both heard it at the same time, the roar of the motorcycle engine getting louder as it came down the street. I smiled to myself and pounded her several more times before I eased my dick back. The walls of her now frothing cunt gripping and sucking at me, trying to keep me embedded until I pulled out with a plop. I sandwiched myself between her ass cheeks, gliding back and forth slowly.
"We'll finish this later," I said, just now noticing that her feet had not been on the floor most of that time. I fed my stiff snake back into my pants and zipped up. I pressed up against her, grinding my hard-on into her belly. She looked up at me with a look of exhaustion and contentment on her face.
She was breathing through her mouth as I bent and gently licked her lower lip. We heard the front door open as our tongues danced, and she pushed me away and headed for the bathroom.
"Who's piece-of-shit Caddy is that in our driveway, Leasa?" Andy said from another room as he entered the house. I already was on my way out the patio door, kicking off my sneakers on the way.
By the time Andy entered the kitchen, I was headlong into the deep end of the heated pool where my boner would have a chance to cool off and deflate.
I resurfaced in about four feet of water. Standing on the side of the pool, swaying in a breeze that wasn't blowing, was Andy. He still was in uniform, sans helmet. His pants were partially unzipped with a dribbled stain, obviously dried cum, spotting the front.
His toothy smile told me he'd had a recent conquest.
"Big Jim? For a second there I thought some black bastard had broken in. You almost got that Zulu dick of yours shot off boy," Andy said, laughing heartily at his own ignorant attempt at humor.
He held up a bottle of Tequila in one hand and two glasses in the other. I thought I'd rather drink from the bottle, not knowing where his skinny fingers had been.
"Nice place you got here, Andy," I said. As I stood, water droplets made my muscular ebony frame glisten under the hot sun. My short Afro was parted in the middle from the dive into the water. The gray sections of my wet hair sparkled brightly under the sun. My still semi hard dick was concealed in my shorts below the waterline.
"C'mon man, let's get drunk," he said, flopping down in a lounge chair by the pool. The bottle clunked safely onto the grass. One of the glasses broke as they fell to the ground.
As I climbed the ladder, I looked past the already drunk Andy and saw Leasa, slowly shaking her head, in the doorway. We both easily recognized his condition.
"Where is that woman when you need her? Leasa!" he yelled, his speech slightly slurred. "We're gonna need us some lemons out here, Big Jim," he huffed, laying back and slowly closing his eyes.
Leasa had changed clothes as well as her mood, judging by what she had on. It looked like she had no regrets about what we had been doing just minutes before.
The thin, blue half top with spaghetti straps barely covered those bouncy jugs. They were more tantalizing now than when they were naked in the photo. A matching skirt was hardly long enough to hide her beaten cunt lips. She sauntered toward her husband. He was sleeping already, but she wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was on my soaked shorts and the fat, tubular imprint made by dick. I wasn't hard, but it still had enough blood to keep it on standby.
I stood there, my hands on my hips, to one side of Andy while Leasa squatted to clean up the broken glass on the other side.
"Better watch what you're doing there, Leasa. You might get cut," I said, noticing that she couldn't take her eyes off of my crotch.
She didn't respond. She shot a look at her soused husband, gathered the glass and headed toward the kitchen. Before she stood, she gapped her knees for an instant to let me see that she'd decided to forego replacing the thong.
"Where did this white girl get such a nice ass?" I thought as I watched her hips sway seductively while she walked toward the patio door. She left the screen door open, turning invitingly for a moment before disappearing into the house.
I felt the stirring return to my groin. I was right on her heels. As I walked briskly through the kitchen, I grabbed the old ripped panties from under the table and stuffed them into one of my pockets.
Leasa was leaning against the alcove to the sitting room. She was fiddling with her fingers. I approached her and noticed she had a small nick, likely from the broken glass. She spoke as I took her hand and licked a drop of blood from her middle finger.
"Listen Jim," she said. I gently sucked on her finger and stared into her eyes.
"I love my husband, Jim. He's the only man I've ever had," she said, her eyes pleading for me to help her with a way out.
"Baby, it felt like I was the only man you ever had," I said. I placed her hand on my rising cock. It grew faster under my wet shorts from her tender, hesitant ministrations.
"That's what I mean. I've never cum like that. I mean … shit, I don't know what I mean," she said, looking down to watch her own hand working my meat.
"Take it out," I said. With a feather touch, I stroked her protruding nipples through the material of her top. She obeyed the order and I pulled the straps from her shoulders. She gave only token resistance as those lovely breasts bounced free.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Jim." She had her fingers wrapped around my shaft and the baggy shorts fell to the floor.
"I can't get pregnant with your baby. I don't even like blacks," she said, causing me to scowl at her.
"Sorry. But what if he wakes up?"
Without saying a word, I pushed on her shoulders. She complied and knelt before me, my renewed rail held inches from her face.
"What would I do if I got used to this damn thing? As it is, he'll never be enough anymore," she said.
I stroked her hair and smiled down on her. "Suck it, Leasa." It wasn't an order so much as it was acknowledgment that we both knew she would.
I held her hand as she held my meat and tapped her cheek with the head. I rubbed it around her parted lips. I could feel her hot breath as I lifted my rod to expose my balls.
"Just suck it baby. I'll give you as much as you want," I said as I slipped the throbbing head into her mouth and over her tongue.
She stretched her jaw and took a few inches in, and I began slowly fucking her face. She looked up at me, the innocent look belying the skill with which she used her tongue to lick me even as I stroked her mouth.
We could hear the slurping as spittle began to slosh from the corners of her lips. She began to bob her head in time with my thrusts until she finally came up for air. "I want you now, Big Jim. Take me now," she said, standing and locking her lips on mine.
I picked her up, still in a lip lock, and carried her to a loveseat by the French door that had a view of the pool where the drunken Andy slept, unaware that his pussy was about to be stretched all out of shape.
I put her down and she turned to face the windows, placing one knee on the loveseat with her other foot on the floor. Looking over her shoulder as she bent at the waist, she held her pussy and ass open as I stepped up to the plate. A tiny drop of her juice fell from her shining gash and landed on the cushion.