The Analyzation of Chocolate Peach Ch. 02

From The Chronicles of Darius Flesher

Author's notes-(in italics)

I'd like to give thanks to my readers for show of support. In particular, Love's Oral Wife and Studying come to mind.

In the opening scene of Chapter One, Darius imbibed in shaving Avanyah's pussy into a bare, slick haven. He followed up by breaching her anally, a prolonged craving that had bellied him deep for more than a year.

Darius' recalled, during mid-pounding, the events leading up to our present moment, which picks up shortly after he'd initially drifted. Dig? (Thanks for following the scattered timelines).

****

"TEAR THAT FUCKING ASS! HEAR ME? FUCK IT HARD, DARIUS!" Avanyah's voice reverberated from off of the bathroom tiles. She used her French-manicured nails to stretch her cheeks apart, flexed her rectal walls open as she took him in deeper.

"Know what I call him?" He broke, marveling at his brown sugar stick, burrowing in and out of her back tunnel.

"Lucky!" Her bare body shook; ass jiggling, accommodating all she could of his doggedness.

She squinted, trying to make out her own reflective image. She shifted her body forward and over to the right side, spitting him out of her bunghole. "I can't! I don't even know how we got into this so fast."

With an unguided thrust, he plunged back in again. "We started out shaving," he brought back his hips and then thrust forward, mightily, grounding his sex- balls deep into her yielding crack.

"Just work with it!" He kissed her earlobe.

"I can't believe you...DARIUS!" She rejected his swollenness once more.

"What?" He gestured frustrations, wiped the sweat from his dome and face, while his cock protested against the cool air.

"It's hard for me to do this to Caesar!" She spun around. Kissed his mouth and then rummaged his eyes for show of empathy. Her hand caressed his cheek.

Darius moved, devoid of regret or compassion. Spun her body around, pecking upwards along the curves of her spine, moving to the contours of her shoulders and neck. He'd had his fill of her flirtatiousness. He had to have her ass, seize it with the sort of presence that communicated no appreciation for delaying his savagery.

She bent down, arched her back and popped out her ass in show of acceptance. He rested his cock at the opening of her outer ring and then pushed through. Eyes rolled upwards, back into his head. Darius imbibed in the feeling of her anal walls restricting around his cock.

"I can't believe that you're getting this!" She bucked back, opening up for more of him.

He sucked in a short breath and curled a slight, sadistic grin. The mirror's slight fog and distorted view was good enough for him to admire the imagery: Brown skin enveloping brown skin as reflected dimly.

"You like the way I'm fucking your ass? You actually think I'm through with you don't you? Funny how all seven thick inches of me knows exactly how to find you!" He thrust himself, filling her ass; feeling every last syllable.

Avanyah pushed her ass, grinding him fully down to the balls, throwing every bit of her womanly depravity at him, equalizing his dominance.

"Put it on me! Move that shit!" He slapped her ass. Swift strokes snaked her subway, stretched out her dirty hole.

"Fuck Darius!!!!" Her breathing descended.

"THAT'S IT POP THAT TRUNK! IF YOU CAN HANDLE YOUR HUBBY'S TEN INCHES YOU CAN DEFINITELY HANDLE MINE! FUCK I'M ABOUT TO...."

Darius pulled out, propelling a jetted stream of jizz, landing along the upper curve of her spine. A copious, second wave followed, wedging her ass crack, filling up her pasty rump with ample cream. When pulling her cheeks apart, evidence of his release formed into a cat's cradle of spunk.

She then pulled away, leaving the excess dribble to slide down his half-open hand. "I need to get that!" She distanced herself in search of the cell's familiar ring tone:

Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head Oh My... Oops there goes—

"What was all that about?" Darius inquired brusquely.

Avanyah held her index up to her lips and then exited the bathroom to take the call. She returned a minute later. "It's Caesar!" She closed the flap. She fashioned her brassiere, concealing her weapons for the moment.

"I'm expecting him back in about fifteen. He's picking up some Popeye's. There's an ABC Liquor store just up the hill. You can pick up some booze, cigars or whatever. Be careful!" Avanyah struck his chest with a hand full of clothes and the keys to her cherry Corvette.

He washed up, hobbled into his gear and then flexed out the door, his lingering quest, satisfied. He pulled out of the driveway, half-smiling in disbelief. Although he hadn't shown it, wrought nerves compromised his hands; made him tremble as he started the ignition.

Finding Caesar's Palace

The evening air circulated some reprieve. The ten-minute trek away from the condo gave him time to assemble his senses; that is, until he attempted to return. Dizzily, he drove through strange hoods in search of the Grove Wood Pine Subdivision.

Darius found his way back and noticed a black-stretched hummer parked in front of the condo. "It had to be his." Darius convinced himself, walking blankly in circles. When he needed to come to, he simply stroked his digits beneath his nose so as to recall the scents of her womanliness.

Avanyah once again cut into his senses. She announced herself from three yards down, holding onto a trash bag. She wore a terry cloth bathrobe. "Hey, I'm over here!" She smiled as he walked closer. "You've been lost for over an hour. Is everything okay?"

"Now it is, obviously I had a hard time finding your condo." Darius said, while relieving her of the trash bag she attempted to set by her door.

"The dumpster is right around the corner, just a few steps, don't get lost!" She smirked, waited for him to get back.

"So what am I to expect? Did he say anything to you?" He mumbled.

"No! He's usually locked into chill mode once he gets back from work. Not that he did much today except meet with Beau for golf."

"Wish I could have that kind of life."

She held the door open for him, focusing her attention inside the living room. "Look who I found out there!" Avanyah introduced Darius to her husband.

"Heard you got lost...good to meet you." Caesar stood up for his lazy boy, extended a strong shake. He resembled Roy Jones, Jr.: Same height, light skin-type and panhandle accent.

"Same here...places around here all look the same. I had a bitch of a time looping through these neighborhoods."

"I feel you, I feel you. We were just hoping nothing happened to you. Not for nothing but that Corvette cost me plenty of grips."

"Ride's tight!" Darius affirmed, eyeing Avanyah, as she set down a serving tray on the coffee table which consisted of an ice-bucket, two rock glasses and bottle of Hennessy. The plush white-carpet absorbed the stirring of her bare feet and unpolished toes.

She helped her hubby flex into the leather comforts of his easy chair. She picked a few hairs from off of his Michael Vick jersey. Caesar plopped his Jordan's on the ottoman, fingering the remote.

"Let me know if there's something else you prefer?" She winked at Darius.

"We're good babe," Caesar pecked her on the lips, reaching for the accoutrements. A 50" plasma screen featured the ESPN Sports Center highlights. "I love my man, Vick!" Caesar laughed, remarking on the athlete's prowess. He handed Darius a drink.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Darius reached into his shirt pocket to pull out a couple of cigars. "Punch...they're a good brand. I got one dark and one light. Also picked up this butane lighter," he clicked the torchlight open.

"Nice. She told you I was into smokes?"

"No, that's just my shit."

"Babe, make sure you use the ash tray and not some cup or plate." Avanyah admonished Caesar.

"Vanyah, I got this!"

She countered. "We also gotta be quick. It's 10:30 already and I'm on at midnight."

"I'll be quick. I'll head on up to change." Darius assured.

"How you gonna remind me about your show when I'm the one who books 'em?" Caesar laughed."

"Fine but you can lose your sarcasm. I just wanted extra time so that I can introduce Darius to some of our friends."

"Don't matter." Caesar puffed out a ring of broken smoke. "The Shack's loaded with beautiful women, we'll find him someone. Besides, I think the man's perfectly capable of acquiring pussy on his behalf."

Avanyah said nothing and had distanced herself while they readied for the evening.

The Shuggah Shack

On the ride over, Avanyah, having been agitated about making the time, responded in an unkindly tone whenever she acknowledged her husband. She kept her responses short, easily worked by anything Caesar would have said. Darius kept to his silence, brewing in the backseat.

Stretched invitingly, its tall neon-letters boasted: The Sweetest Spot in Town. The sign caused highway travelers to take notice. The establishment promised an evening he'd dreamily seized as cure for the chaos.

The building, ornamented with neon palm trees, boasted an elongated entrance, replete with an outstretched canopy. Hulking below, a pair of brassy bouncers recognized Caesar, immediately greeting him with daps, pats and pound-shakes. They extended the same courtesy to Darius.

"I'm going in!" Avanyah walked on through ignoring her husband's pleas to return. "I've got a show to get going. I've got clients to please, 'sides I gotta find a way to work off some of this stress you keep giving me!"

. "...the fuck's that supposed to mean? She's just cranky because we're getting late." Caesar tried to minimize her show of attitude. He rushed through to catch up with her, disregarding Darius.

The club's visuals were terrific. Darius was immediately drawn to the next set of performers on stage as introduced by DJ Freaks. He queued in a classic, "Sugar Walls" by Sheena Easton.

Corrine, a petite, brown-skin beauty wearing a short, bleach-blonde fro moved sexily, skipping around the stage in her Pro-Keds playing the schoolgirl motif from A-Z. She had on a buttoned-down, cotton-white blouse stopped just above her waist so that her silver-pierced navel had been exposed.

The classic red and blue rippled skirt fit just above her knee caps, accentuated by a pair of all-green stockings stretched snugly around the rest of her petite and shapely legs.

Ms. Haversly, a tall, fiery disciplinarian, fashioned her auburn hair into a bun, held by a couple of pencil sticks. She followed her wayward pupil around stage smacking a ruler into the palm of her hands. She wore a one-piece, canary-yellow dress with snaps aligned all the way down in the front.

Her breasts poured like a double shot of Bailey's. Smooth. She then ripped her dress off to reveal a set of cream colored brassiere and embroidered panties. Corinne caressed her teacher's crafted body, diligently unsnapping her bra.

Corinne then moved her petite tongue over the apex of her teacher's nips. Ms. Haversly's puffy areolas resembled crabapples: A-cups. She pinched the perky Nerds.

Together they simulated a fetch and snatch routine, swapping tongues to frictional hands. They clasped hands while dropping down on their knees. The mouthy exchanges felt real. Kept his cock quietly convulsing.

The chorus of dollar bills carpeted the stage with its greenery. Patrons pushed up, squeezed their faces around the oblong stage, peering up like baby gulls.

"...the fuck away from me!" Caesar's voice cut abruptly through the sausage fest of horny men. He'd been walking away from his heated squabble with Avanyah. He parted his way towards the bar, past the clutter of frats and husbands creeping on the DL.

"What's wrong with the conversation, Caesar?" The door to the ladies room swung hard and open, leaving a crack mark on the side wall. "That's nice! Why don't you just make a fucking spectacle of yourself?"

"Listen," Caesar turned around, "You're crazy! I'm not doing this, not tonight, 'Vanyah. I don't get where I'm to blame for the seven months we were apart! This here has gotta do with you and Darius! Something ain't right with y'all!"

"I'm right here!" Darius said walking towards them.

Caesar met him halfway. His eyes turned into spotlights. "How are you going to come up to this establishment; fuck my woman; drink of my Hennessy; share a five-dollar cigar with me and approach my grill?" He swung, grazing Darius' chest. Caesar's momentum had been pulled off balance.

Three-hundred and fifty pounds of human granite resolved the ruckus with swift certainty. His tone suggested serenity. "We don't need to go through this, do we?"

"I'm good. It's nothing I can't get to later!" Caesar stepped back. "I said I was good, Moose!" His eyes cut towards his massive counterpart for a moment. He then acknowledged Beau, the owner.

Beau stood at 5'5". His attire of short-sleeve tropical shirt, khaki pants and bare feet reminded him of a Jimmy Buffet experience, as though he'd been on the last train to Margaritaville when it derailed.

Moose stared blankly towards the situation, tapering. His Mediterranean eyes and ho-hum demeanor made Beau comfortable enough to thread any line of cockiness into needle-like jabs. He ventured knowing that his top bodyguard and confidant had his back.

"It's after twelve and I have a performance I have to go to. Avanyah walked behind the bar, reached below the counter and pulled out a duffel bag loaded with props. "I got a show to get poppin' in just a minute. You boys kept me long enough wit'ch-ya shit!"

Caesar said nothing and pointed to a Hennessy bottle on the top shelf, indicating his need for another fill of bronze-liquid ease. He downed it hurriedly, walking into the room just in time to see his wife perform.

"No, you don't want to do that at this point." Beau suggested to Darius who had been following towards the heated couple.

"Alright," he kept his gaze locked into Moose's eyes. Darius' experience in night clubs afforded him a sense of cautiousness learned: Always focus on the bouncers primarily. Look for erratic movements or any tension derived thereof. Goons of such caliber were often excitable, ready to pop off and swing.

"We're fine! Why don't you cover Avanyah's show for right now and I'll call you if there's anything else." Beau suggested, watched his bodyguard depart before turning to Darius. "Let's drink! What are you having?" Beau walked behind the bar.

"It doesn't matter!" He sighed.

"You know I try to keep things pretty safe around here. Moose is actually a puppy dog, but I can't have a volatile atmosphere. I find it funny how pussy can bring about serenity but also become the cause of its demise. I can understand you wanting to fuck Avanyah.

She exudes high sensuality. Not forced or strained, just natural, besides she has some serious business intellect. There's a reason why the best man in this bachelor party paid some heavy notes for tonight's performance. She's that hot!" "What's this?" Darius inquired about the drinks placed before them.

"Red Bull with Grey Goose vodka. It's pretty good."

After herds of the concoctions, Darius grew numb. He'd forgotten where he and Beau left off, walked outside for a rare smoke and then bummed a Salem from one of the students. Time eroded. He spoke out to an occasional drift, nothing penetrated his twisted reality.

His mind echoed the last batch of frats on their way out the door boasting about Chocolate Peach's show. They hopped into a jet-black BMW cruiser and sped, zigzagging down the street.

Just as Darius was headed back inside, he met up with Moose. "Are you alright?" He inquired, handed him a shot of Espresso to spirit him back into consciousness.

"Yeah, it looked like you needed this more than I do. Check this, I was sent to come get you. I think Beau's trying to make some peace between you and Caesar. Right now everything is cool because business is good. They're all happy. Just don't go killing one another.

Hear me? Just go right on in. I'll lock the door behind you. You sure you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Alright then, maybe I'll come back around and see how y'all holding up! Just go all the way to the back of the club, through the double doors. That's where they're at. You sure you're good?"

"Yeah, I got this!" He responded by show of heavy lidded eyes.

The Confectionary Lair

Crossing through the club felt strange. The place was clean and empty. Coming up the stairs, he heard the familiar ditty clearly wafting through. The resounding bass crept halfway down the steps, requiring him to engage.

"Peaches and Cream...you know that I like it I'm a fiend..." He pushed through the door mumbling the lyrics. Darkness shrouded the room, save for the glow of amber track lights aligning the stage. He froze when he happened on the entwinement of bodies lewdly displayed. The sounds of muffled groans ascended as he walked closer.

He squinted, adjusting through the liquored haze that had required a chunk of his time just to sort through.

What was once an overstretched banner had now lain, detached. He crouched down so that he could study the letters. The white crumpled banner read: Welcome to Chocolate Peach's Honeymoon Show!

As he took a few steps closer, his eyes set on her salacious brown body. She'd been on her knees, rocking them against the hardwood stage. Her intense writhing kept slipping in and out of the blackness, playing with the light.

The privileged recipient had shown a slight silhouette of his submissive body, carved out of a distant track light. More lights clicked in, illuminating everything lewdly captioned beneath.

"Have a seat!" Caesar's view came into being. "You've already had your show. Now all's you gotta do is just watch...can't do anything else but that! Don't think that I don't know how you got yours!"

The words seemed to have dissolved itself in an absinthe rich smoke. Darius couldn't speak as he'd been suspended, animatedly. Caesar waved the duffel bag around. Set it down before Avanyah's oral display.

Her hands held onto the arms of an ivory-embroidered throne. His royalty wore a black-leather mask, white-tank tops and brown socks. He sat, twitching, clutching onto the arms of the throne. His white hands gripped the bottom of the chair. Avanyah wore a spiked collar that had been linked to a short chain, left dangling. She had on a peach-laced corset, which Darius recognized from the day that they met at Multiplex X.

He'd watch her purchased the leather mask as well; in fact, as Caesar walked closer to the throne, retrieving the props, he kept remembering the items, especially the cat -o'-nine-tails whip Caesar kept snapping incessantly.

Avanyah remained focused as she throated her masked suitor. Took his average six inches into her gullet with ease, creating a mouthful of saliva left slipping down her heavies.

Darius walked closer to the stage, and, from out of the darkness, Caesar stepped into view. This totally threw him off. He watched as Caesar sunk three fingers into his wife's throbbing spot, opening her up again, anally. She spat the gimp's dick from out of her mouth.

She drew in a short breath. "Oooooooh!!! She popped her ass out, absorbing her husband's digits.

The stranger, having found her mouth again, fell back, defeated by the royalties of her oral prowess. Avanyah switched to jacking him off aggressively. She repeated the steps, added more spit, shaking him up a bit.

Darius stood looking up at the stage. His mouth hung agape as though he'd been waiting for a busty waitress to titillate him with a Jello shots.

He watched as Avanyah got up, removed the mask to reveal Beau's mug. Thoughts rose like froth, came to a head: How could Caesar allow his wife to become face-fucked by his boss?