Brooke and the Black Man

Even her dog was suspicious of the man trying get in.

"I can't let you in," Brooke said, with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

"Please, ma'am, this is my building," said the man trying squeeze past her. "I've lived here for a month."

They were at the front door of the apartment building. He seemed like a nice guy—no menace in his eyes, no hint of thuggery in his clothes. But the rules were clear about people having their own access to the building.

"I'm sorry," Brooke said. She sighed and tugged on the leash as her dog complained.

"I can't believe this," he said, getting angry.

Brooke was distracted with her dog. She reached down to comfort it when she felt the man brush past her.

"Hey," she cried out.

"Sorry, lady."

The man hurried over to the elevator. Brooke followed, dragging the dog behind her.

"Excuse me," she said.

The man hit the UP button a few more times, not looking at Brooke.

She put a hand on her hip. "Sir."

"My name's Darion," he said. "And I'm going upstairs."

Brooke resided on the first floor, but when the elevator door slid open, she got on behind Darion. Darion looked at her from the corner of his eye without turning his face. Brooke's chihuahua knew this wasn't how to get to their apartment and barked a complaint. Brooke was staring hard at the man.

"You're gonna follow me now?" he said, without turning around.

"I told you, I don't know you," Brooke said.

Darion nodded, staring at the digits reading the floor numbers.

When his floor dinged and the doors opened, he hurried out. Brooke followed. The dog barked at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Brooke could tell the man was eyeing her shadow trailing him on the floor as he marched forward.

"Really?" he said.

"Well, if something happens and it's because you got past me...," she said.

"Yeah," he said, cutting her off.

They arrived at an apartment door. He reached into his bag. Brooke held on tighter to the leash. The dog whined and resisted. She sighed when the man pulled out a set of keys. The door downstairs needed a special fob to get in. When he opened the door, she turned to leave.

"Oh, you got nothing to say now?"

She shook her head. "Look..."

"Yeah, yeah, you don't know me, right?" he said, finally looking at her.

She turned around to defend herself, but his look wasn't that angry. His eyes were challenging her but in a playful way. She stared at his lips for a second.

Disarmed by his tiny smile, she shrugged. "I—I'm—you know," she tried to say.

"I don't know you either," he said. "So far, you're some crazy lady stalking me. I'll get you for this."

She chuckled and focused her eyes on the dog.

"And your little dog, too."

She rolled her eyes. "Have a good night, sir."

"Darion."

"Darion," she repeated. "I'm—"

"Embarrassed?"

"No, I'm—"

"Sheepish?"

"Stop, no. I'm—"

"Feeling salty?"

"Brooke," she spit out, shaking her head.

"And?" He pointed at the dog.

"And that's Silver."

"Hm. Well, hi-ho, Silver," he said to the dog. It barked in response. Then he looked at her again as he opened the door. "Come on in. Get to know me."

"Um," she said, as she fidgeted with the leash. "I shouldn't. I don't want to impose..."

"Too late," he said with a smirk. "Come on. Short glass of wine, guess our favorite colors and then you get the hell out while I burglarize the place."

Silver looked at her and him while she decided. Darion's smile reminded her of her husband's. But Darion was a little more fit, with a massive chest about to burst out of that pink dress shirt.

"One drink," she decided. "To be neighborly..."

She stepped in and waited while he closed and locked the door and took off his jacket and his bag and turned on certain lights. He ordered a device to play music. Soft lights and soft jazz. Brooke bit her lip. This was probably just the way he relaxes, she told herself.

"Well, you don't have to stand there like a sentinel," Darion said to her.

She laughed at herself and stepped further into the apartment. He was by the counter near the kitchen pulling out two glasses and a wine bottle. She looked down at Silver, who cocked its head.

She strapped the leash to the door and walked to the counter. He was pouring, but she could tell he was looking at her, checking her out. Now she was getting self-conscious. Were her cheeks too fat? Was her hair disheveled? Was she okay without her lipstick? Were her leggings showing any camel toes?

She caught his eyes on her chest. He handed her the glass. They clinked their glasses together before they sipped. His eyes were on hers. She tried to keep her eyes on him, too, before she laughed nervously and looked away, checking on her dog.

Silver groaned and got comfortable on the floor.

When Silver woke up, Brooke and Darion were on this sofa. Darion's arm was on the headrest behind her. And his fingers were touching strands of her blond hair. She had her legs crossed and her hands on her lap.

They had been chatting a lot. The last thing he had asked was if she had a boyfriend.

She wanted to answer, but he was inching closer to her.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she finally answered.

He grinned. "You sure? You took a while to answer that..."

She shook her head as her body slid closer to his. His hand was on her shoulder now and was helping her along. She uncrossed her legs. And his other hand went right for thigh.

"I'm sure," she said.

Silver stood up and barked.

"The baby's awake," Darion whispered to her as their lips began to touch.

She smiled at that. "He's okay."

And they kissed.

"That wine," Brooke exclaimed when she broke free for a moment. "I'm used to hard liquor, but that wine went straight to my head."

She held his dark face with her pale white hands and kissed him some more. The music had stopped. Only the smacking of their lips and tongues could be heard—and the occasional bark.

"What about you?" she asked, before licking his lips again. "You're with anyone?"

"I'm married," he said.

She dropped her hands and looked away and cursed. He buried his face in her neck.

"I still want you," he added, cupping his hand over her breast.

He got up from his seat and hovered over her, his face still in her neck as he nibbled her white skin. She held his waist.

"Your wife...?"

"Business trip." He started kissing and licking her neck again.

To Brooke, the apartment didn't look like there was two people living in it. But she could hardly concentrate on that as Darion began unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands waited in the air for the shirt to come off before she grabbed at the dark chest looming over her.

"Then we shouldn't..." she said weakly as she reached for his pants.

"Shh," he whispered. "We're getting to know each other."

The pants were open. The silky briefs were pulled down.

"Oh, God, are you kidding me?" she said as she beheld and then grabbed the cock.

"Just an average cock," he said.

But she was focused on holding it in her two hands. "My God," she kept saying.

He stood up straight to pull off his shirt.

She pulled on his pants. "Off," she panted. "Get this off."

He laughed a little as he quickly stripped and kicked the clothes away. He stood before her, tall and regal. She took the cock in her hands again, gently, as if she were holding something precious. He put a hand on her blonde head and guided her forward. And the cock disappeared into her mouth, inch by inch.

They both groaned at the same time.

Guys always loved the way she handled their cocks, she thought as she got to work.

She sucked, slobbered and slurped while he kept saying, "Yeah, yeah."

She gulped and gargled on the cock while he yanked on a handful of her hair.

She had to adjust herself to pull the cock from her mouth. She held it in her hand and stroked it. She lowered herself to lick up the balls and trap one in her mouth.

He cursed and jerked.

She licked her way back up the shaft to jam the cock back into her mouth. She wiggled her face to get as much of it into her mouth as possible. Darion was gasping as if in agony. She wanted to laugh. Just when he thought she had swallowed enough of it, she took a little more.

When she pulled out, they both groaned out loud.

He staggered back, holding his cock drenched in her saliva. He had a shocked look on his face. "Geez-Louise!"

She pulled her blouse off and let her milky white boobs fall free.

Darion came forward, hands out, ready to seize them.

Guys loved her breasts. Her "thirty-six double whammy tits," her husband called them.

Before he could grab them, she stood up and turned around. She faced the sofa, with one knee on the seat. His arms wrapped around her waist and his hands grabbed at the breasts, squeezing and pinching.

She held on to the headrest while he rubbed his cock against her black leggings. He was so hard he could've poked a hole through them. She stood up straight with his cock between her thighs. She squeezed her thighs tight as he rubbed his cock between them.

While Silver twirled around and barked at them, she felt his hand grab a handful of her blonde hair.

He was pulling too hard. She grunted a complaint. He let it go and spanked her instead. She dropped her upper body down and held on to the seat as he grabbed her leggings and yanked them down, exposing her ass.

A few more spanks. But then he stood back.

She stood there in this embarrassing downward-facing dog position, bent over, head down, ass in the air, waiting for him. She shook her ass at him. She squirmed as she stood there. A look of anguish came over her face as she waited, waited, wanting him to penetrate, spank, anything.

"Gave me a hard time downstairs, didn't you?" he said, rolling the rubber on.

She groaned. "Come on," she begged, shaking her ass.

"Afraid I was some criminal, weren't you?"

She was ready to curse at him to get his dick over to her quick. "Forgive me," she said.

"What?"

"Just fuck me," she said instead.

With a grunt, he came back at her, grabbing at her ass cheeks, spreading them, licking and then rubbing his fingers onto her pussy, digging his fingers in while she squirmed, giving her a few more punishing spanks.

Then the cock came.

She moaned a long "Ooh" as it entered her from behind. And it kept entering her.

"Oh, God," she murmured.

Then he slammed into her.

"Fuck!"

He slid out and back into her softer.

"Awww," she said as he did so. She breathed in and out loudly.

He pulled out suddenly and slammed back in.

Some strange sounds came out of her mouth as she reacted. Then he went easier on her again.

When he pulled out of her, she fell on the sofa to get the boots off to free her legs. She kept an eye on him as well, his muscular body, his cock still hard, and that angry look on his face as he approached her.

Silver got free, too, and came running towards her.

She sat on the sofa with her legs spread, letting Darion have a look at her chubby, voluptuous body as she caressed herself and fingered herself into a frenzy of pleasure and anticipation.

She had to kick poor Silver away while Darion came menacingly toward her. Still with that look on his face that looked like he wanted to punish her.

He towered over her again like he did before. He worked his cock into her wet pussy again. And their hot bodies crashed into each other. Her legs wrapped around his waist. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his head as he angrily plowed his mean dick into her again and again and again.

She tried looking into his eyes, but his were shut as he fucked her. And his hands were all over her voluminous breasts as she knew they'd be.

His face softened. His eyes glazed. He wasn't grabbing at her, more like fondling. But his cock was still rock hard inside her.

She was about to kiss him when he pulled away suddenly and stood up, tore the rubber off, and let his cum spray onto her breasts.

She sat there, chest heaving, looking up at him. He wasn't looking at her.

Silver was trying to get on her lap.

There was a box of tissue on the table next to the sofa. She pulled a few sheets to clean herself.

"That was so fun," she said.

She stood up, holding Silver to her bosom.

"Aw, you wanna go home, booby," she pooed at the dog. The dog licked her face in response as she kissed it.

Darion stared at them.

"Mm," she moaned, letting Silver kiss some more before she let him on to the floor to grab her clothes.

"You gotta go," he said quickly, reaching for his clothes.

"I know, I know," she said, her breath regulating. "Wife coming?"

"Yeah."

He put on his pants and stood by the kitchen, pouring himself another glass of wine.

She got dressed quietly. "Sorry about the confusion."

He nodded.

"Welcome to the neighborhood."

He smiled respectfully but still didn't look up.

She picked up Silver's leash as she went to the door. "You don't have to worry. I'm married, too."

"You said you didn't have a boyfriend," he started to say, looking up. "Oh. I see what you did there."

She smiled.

"I'm glad you had your fun," he said.

She felt as if he wanted to say something else. "There's no wife, is there?"

He sipped the wine. "No, I said that in case I needed to get rid of you quick. Bye. I'm sure you enjoyed indulging your little black fetish or something."

To the dog she said, "Say bye to the nice man, Silver."

Silver growled instead.

"He doesn't like me," Darion said.

"Next time, keep a treat out for him."

"Sure," he said. Then it hit him. "Oh. Oh! Next time?"

"I don't know."

He looked at her curiously. "What about the hubby?"

"Separated."

"Real talk?"

"Scout's honor," she said, opening the door.

Now he was smiling. "Bye, neighbor."

Brooke smiled and walked out, the dog scurrying to get ahead of her.