EUREKA!

Chronicle 33

EUREKA!

"Hey, baby. How was work today?" she asks.

"Disasterous!" Dr. Nasty Mothafucka answers. "I was swamped with acquisitions."

In a Panama hat, Italian gator shoes, a silk button-up, and slacks, he's way past cool. He's cold. Ice cold. Cold with a 'k', like the ice cubes in a glass of sweet tea on that steamy Southern Indian summer August night.

"What is that thing?" Dr. Nasty Mothafucka asks.

"It's a bladeless fan," she answers. "I'm using it to dry my toenails."

"A bladeless fan? What's next? A hands-free toothbrush?" he scoffs.

"I got bored so I started biting my fingernails, then I started filing them, then I painted them, then I painted my toenails, and now I'm letting them dry," she lets out in one flurried, aggravated breath borderlining on OCD-ish.

"Damn, you obsessed wit' nails," he says. "You alright?"

"You know what today is, don't you? My paraskevidekatriaphobia done set in," she says, answering her own question frantically.

"Who? What?" he asks.

"Paraskevidekatriaphobia - the fear of Friday the thirteenth," she answer. "I thought you knew. I've been an emotional wreck; I'm scared, nervous... horny."

"You done watched too many of them damn 'Jason' movies," he says, chuckling.

"This shit ain't funny," she pouts. "Let's fuck - maybe it will make me feel better."

He incinerates in laughter.

"I thought you would never ask. Don't worry, the doc' finna take real good care of you. Come here. Let me give you pleasure beyond belief," he gently whispers in her ear with his arms wrapped around her.

"I love when you hold me and whisper sweet, freaky stuff in my ear," she says, blushing. "You make me feel so special and protected in your arms... and horny!"

"What are you in the mood for?" he asks.

"I wanna get spanked!" she says before biting her bottom lip and wiggling her ass. "You know that's my favorite. I especially want it right about now since I got on these shorts that's riding up my ass between my cheeks - it feels good as a mothafucka!"

"Okay, but... you know the drill. Routine first," he says. "Tell me how I like it."

Licking her lips, then pouting them, she moans to him, "So wet it'll make you slip and slide; so tight you can barely get inside!"

"I almost forgot how much you love foreplay," she adds.

"Yeahhh, you know I'mma take your time, kissin' and lickin', then goin' at it kind of guy - it's a must have. Now, assume the position!" he enforces, switching his smile to a blank expression and a double eyebrow raise, then goes in his pocket for a Jolly Rancher, which will be his chosen remedy to relieve his oral fixation for now.

Her attire for the bash is white knee-high sweat-socks, a white crop top that reads FUCK THE PISS OUT OF ME in big bubble letters, and a pair of barely-there hot pink boy shorts that are choking the life out of her booty cheeks and will do little to protect those tender cheeks.

She stretches over his right knee and he gives her ass a hard Thwack, making it clench and succeeds it with a rub. The first one is just a wake-up call and him letting it know who's boss. For more fun and to prolong the foreplay, he dumps a mound of Shea butter oil on her semi-bare bottom mid ass-spanking - ruining his custom fitted slacks. But it's well worth every penny wasted and good to the oil's last drop. Watching her ass jiggle with every Thwack in oil drenched boy-shorts coupled with him already able to predict how good it's going to feel and taste when he fills it and eyeing it radiate lustrousness is almost better than the actual sex. As he picks up on his Thwackery, the vibrations from her ass travel straight to her clit and echoes deep down in her pussy.

"I'm almost there!" she says, creating an air of mystery and suspense in his mind. A few more Thwacks later, he sees the aftermath. He watches it run down her leg; she has just cum on herself. It's a Eureka! moment for him - a new discovery: a Thwack-gasm. The best thing since canned air! He can smell her wet, slick orgasm as her pussy throbs and quivers from the aftershocks of his mighty Thwacks. Her juices have just buttered her up for an extremely nice tonguing by a very present clit monster ready to go tongue-crazy.

Sick and tired of the horribly good foreplay, it's come/cum time to cut (fuck). He chews up the Jolly Rancher he's been oh-so-deliciously tongue fucking. Slowly, he pulls away her boy-shorts; her labia and a-hole pucker magnificently - fully bare-bottomed, post ass-spanking!

Unlike the inexperienced and timid, in contrast he gets a good grip on his (her ass cheeks at the moment) and licks the dog hell out of them! Copulating with her pussy and cheeks, he can taste her clit hard-on (yes, women get hard, too) as her wetness swarms his mouth. She is so wet, she's wet spelled with a 'dubya.' But he doesn't want her to cum in his mouth; instead, he wants it on his dick, so he stops. No good deed goes unpunished. And his Thwack-giving is rewarded in a big way. Dr. Nasty Mothafucka must endure the same heartless treatment that he unleashed in his Thwack-giving conquest.

On his back, as he has been so many times before waiting to receive a woman's blessings, she demonstrates her litheness, riding him while holding herself in the American splits. Into her juicy tunnel he proceeds, and before all of it is in her, he feels his explosions simmer, rising, about to detonate, but thankfully he doesn't and stays on schedule.

"Am I tight enough for you, Doctor?" she asks while flexing her inner vaginal walls.

"Yes," rolls off his lips so sensually.

"I better be, and you better not cum quick neither," she spits back at him ironically, slinging a little mud.

Dr. Nasty Mothafucka tries sooo hard not to, but he expels every bit of his passion inside her. A God-given giver (or GGG), it's not in his nature to be stingy; so after having gotten his, he's ready to give her another Thwack-gasm. (Wonder if that can be patented?)

Back over his knee, she bawls, "No, Doctor. My ass can take no more of your big, manly Thwacks!" then flashes an honest-to-goodness hard smile.

"Here it comes, and don't clench them this time," he warns.

Thwack...