A Black Man's Tale Pt. 03

In contrast to the master bedroom, where Terry was now fucking Zola's brains out and living out his own real-life 'milf' fantasy, the guest room had no en-suite bathroom. So, still naked, we crossed the droughty corridor to the bathroom opposite and set about preparing for the much-needed ablutions. I opened the glass door-front of the shower and dialled a comfortable hot and cold water mixture, while Chryso scanned the open shelves for clean towels. She dropped two, large, plump towels on the low wooden stool close to the shower cubicle and followed me into the shower. I was standing in the warm cataract that was spewing from the shower rose, allowing the flow to run over my groin, when I stepped aside to let her in. She closed the glass door behind her and sidled underneath the water torrent in front of me and placed her arms around me. The water splashed onto our shoulders, ran down our backs as we stood face to face, feeling the warm, cleansing spray on our bodies.

"C'mon," she proffered, "I'll do you and you do me."

"That sounds like a plan!" I retorted, handing her the sponge and soap that hung from a rope on the water-mixer dial.

She deftly worked up a thick lather, which she applied to my chest, belly and groin.

I turned into the gushing torrent and she repeated the procedure on my back, buttocks and upper legs. I turned again, to rinse off the lather, and she turned her attention again to my crotch, applying the foaming, soapy sponge with one hand and massaging the lather over my skin with the other. My cock, limp and flaccid swayed under the torrent of water and my balls hung heavy beneath, as she smoothed the slick, cleansing lather. She dropped the sponge and her hands dawdled over my exposed genitalia, cupping my balls in one palm and her fingers circling the tip of my prick, which she squeezed gently, as she ran her hand, palm upward towards my crotch and back down again. She seemed to be admiring it, trying to stimulate it back to life.

"Oo-ooh, it's wonderful!" she sighed.

"You like?" I asked, feeling it starting to firm. The tingling sensation in my scrotum was not due to the warm water that ran over it, of that, I was sure!

"Mmm, I love it... and these..." she gasped, weighing my balls gently in her palm, "your girlfriend is a very lucky woman..."

"Well, I've never had any complaints," I quipped and went on, "c'mon, let me return the favour, you can have more of it later."

"Ah, awright, then," she conceded reluctantly, "I'll hold you to that... promise?"

"You bet," I assured, and eased myself from her eager grip.

I picked up the sponge and proceeded to lather her breasts, stomach, crotch and inner thighs. I worked up a thick, rich lather which, I rubbed into every crevice and recess from her tits to her ass. I massaged her buttocks, moving my fingers in slow, gradually increasing circles. Kneeling, I parted her cheeks and slid my finger down, over her crack and into her asshole. At first, her sphincter was tight and resisted my prodding digit, but the soap lather eased its entry into her rectum. My other hand probed her and stroked her vulva and clitoris. The relentless shower spray had rinsed her crotch clear of soap so, I spread her labia with fingers and thumb and sought her clitoris with my tongue. She squirmed and gasped as I ate her pussy and fingered her ass.

My prick had swollen and regained its former rigour. By this stage, she was grasping the top of the shower doorframe, with her legs parted and her back arched so that her bottom jutted out.

"O-ooh! I want you inside me! Give me your prick... o-ooh, fuck me!" she pleaded.

I stood up and moved behind her, intending to replace my finger with my, now rigid, prick in her ass. Gripping my prick in my free hand, I lined up the tip, dripping with water, with the point at which my finger was inserted into her orifice and guided it in as I slowly withdrew my finger. I slid it in and pumped slowly and deliberately at first, until my prick had penetrated two two-thirds of its length, which was as far as it would go, painlessly.

"Is this good for you?" I whispered, slowing the tempo of my hip-thrusts, and reaching forward to fondle her breasts.

"Ahh, ahh, ye-e-es, ye-e-es, ohhh!" she sighed, her half-turned head gazed at me through squinting eyes and her mouth drooped open.

I shoved my, by now, well-lubricated member deeper and harder into her ass. Her buttocks glistened with rivulets of water, as I reached forward and slid a middle finger over her wet, swollen clitoris. I increased the tempo and the frequency of the pelvic thrusts, my thighs made a slapping sound against her well-padded buttocks as they spread and distorted. I tightened my grip around her thighs as I surveyed her pliant, well-rounded buttocks reverberating under the rhythmic pounding of my eager crotch.

"How'd you like your first black ass-fuck, hmm?"

I squeezed and kneaded the firm flesh of her breasts, tweaking the erect nipples.

"You like my thick, black dick inside you?"

Her only response was, "Mmmnn, mmnn, mn...," between gasps of agony - ecstasy.

"You're just a horny, Greek slut that loves a good rodding by a thick, black prick."

"Mnnn... y-h-e-e-es...," she rasped, "you're killing me...o-oo-ooh!"

I withdrew, for fear of ejaculating inside her. Her head swivelled round to look at me, the previous expression of pleasure -- pain still perceptible on her anguished face.

Her arms came around my neck as she turned towards me and her head came to rest on my shoulder. She was sobbing as she kissed my neck and cheek.

But they weren't sobs of pain or despair. They were sobs of unrequited lust.

"Why did you stop... th-a-a-t woz... oo-ooh, oh, why did you stop?" she gasped.

I turned off the water and led her out of the shower. I wrapped one of the crisp, dry towels around her and patted her dry. As I was wrapping the other towel around my waist, she took my face in her hands and kissed me on the mouth, long and hard. She let her towel drop to the floor, and looking me full in the face, she whispered,

"Fuck me, please. Don't stop, until I can't take it any more."

Without saying a word, I smiled and threw off my towel. My prick was still firm, but not fully erect, but it wasn't long before it was rigid and probing her vaginal opening.

I lifted her onto my erection and sat her butt on the edge of the vanity unit next to the shower. She curled her arms around my neck and her legs around the small of my back and crossed her ankles behind me. I fucked her with long, deliberate strokes at first then quickened the tempo in response to her moans, sighs, and verbal bidding to "fuck her harder" or "put it up further". Eventually, she came, more noisily than the first time: snorting, gasping, and moaning, as I ejaculated inside her, thereafter.

When I withdraw, there was what appeared to be, a rivulet of 'come' streaming from her gaping, pink pussy. We cleaned up and drifted back to the bedroom, where she licked and sucked and gobbled on my prick and worn-out testicles before I fucked her again -- doggy style.

I was completely drained by now, to the point where I couldn't come anymore. Boy, these older broads can't get enough of it! It's as if, the older they get, the more wanton and insatiable they become.

Well, by the time we'd dressed and got back to the sitting room, we found Terry and Zola there. They were chatting and drinking coffee. Zola offered to make us coffee (she was starting to feel quite at home now), but Chryso said that it was late and that they ought to go.

There was the customary farewell smooch and the exchange of cell phone numbers. Chryso gave me hers and asked me to call her sometime.

Terry, in turn, gave his card to Chryso and asked her to call him sometime.

As they left, Zola turned to me and said, "I'll call you tomorrow."

And so, that was the end of another afternoon with 'les girls'.