Look Who's NOT Coming to Dinner... Ch. 03

"Hey," McGuire said loudly as she walked by him on her way back toward the door. "I left my Kanye tee-shirt at your place last week. I'm'a need that back."

"You come by anytime you want," Ashanti said as suggestively as possible and McGuire grinned.

"That's right," he said with a nod and turned back to the girl he was wooing.

"You have a Kanye tee-shirt?" the girl asked him with a degree of incredulity and Ashanti stifled her laugh as she passed them.

"He is one of the most widely misunderstood philosophers of our time," he replied seriously and Ashanti hoped she was out of earshot by the time she burst out laughing.

By the time she finished that last drink she was wobbly on her high heels. She used the wall for help as she walked the three blocks away from the Reservoir Bar and wondered if asking Earl to pick her up on a motorcycle was the wisest choice. Behind her, hopefully, McGuire was doing well with his little white girl and Elaine was maintaining with Arturo. She didn't want to climb on Earl's bike in front of Elaine. Asking him to pick her up on the bike was a bad idea. Why did she do that?

If he came in the truck it would have helped her maintain the anonymity of their relationship. She was not dressed for a motorcycle ride. She would flash her coochie to all of Ybor getting on and her ass the whole ride to his place. She should have said truck. She liked riding on the back of the bike though, and she was drunk, and giving in to her desires. It was too late by now to call and ask that he change vehicles. Fuck it.

Even at this time of night Seventh was still crowded. The street was crowded with cars, trucks, and motorcycles. Lifted cars, lowered trucks, and stretched motorcycles revved, honked, and blasted music from high powered sound systems. Girls were called out to. Some of the girls on the sidewalks responded. It was a festive atmosphere and it, the alcohol, and her arousal for Earl made her dizzy.

She spotted him in traffic several blocks away. He was on the silver sport bike, the first one he picked her up on, he called it a Gixxer, or something like that. He had others but that one seemed to be his favorite. She watched him roll past the Reservoir Bar. Another guy who was sitting on his parked bike slid off it and went and shook hands with Earl as he sat in traffic. They spoke briefly, laughed, then traffic moved and Earl advanced toward her. He wore his full-face helmet, his face covered but his long beard was hanging below it, and someone still recognized him. Another man walking down the sidewalk, carrying a helmet, shouted something at him and Earl nodded back to him and revved the Gixxer. He was known, recognized, among the other motorcycle riders in Ybor. He was known and liked, respected. She hated that this made her wetter. What was she? Some dick starved booth girl?

"God damn it," he said after he pulled the Gixxer up to the curb in front of her, turned the engine off, and removed his helmet. His hair was plastered down over his head and he ran his hands through it. He dug into his shirt pocket, took out a smoke, and lit it. "You are stunning."

She wanted to fall into his arms, kiss him, suck his tongue into her mouth. She wanted to but she couldn't. Elaine was three blocks away. She should have told Earl to meet her five blocks away. Fuck. He was beautiful. He set the helmet on the big tank of the bike and rested his elbow on it as he smoked and looked her up and down. She looked nervously back toward the Reservoir Bar to see if she could still see Elaine. If the crowds on the sidewalk between them parted just right Ashanti could catch a glimpse of the canary yellow dress. Fuck.

"Thank you for coming to get me."

"Thank you for calling. You got any panties on under that thing?" She shook her head and he chuckled. "That's not really motorcycle riding gear."

"I know, by the time I thought about it I figured it was too late."

"I know a couple guys down here that will let me borrow their car if you want."

Did she want that? She wanted him. Of course he knew a couple guys who would lend him a car. Old, fat, white Earl was super cool. People liked and respected him, he was popular in the real world like Ashanti and Elaine were in high school. She stepped closer to him. She wanted to jump into his arms. She glanced back toward Elaine again and he noticed.

"Are we being sneaky?" he whispered and she laughed again as she nodded. "Who's here."

"My best friend Elaine. She is at the Reservoir Bar."

"That's why you had me come three blocks away."

"I'm sorry. That's shitty, right?"

"You are young, trying to figure it all out, and you will, or you won't. I am happily along for the ride for as long as it lasts."

"I like you a lot Earl. Should I not be worried about what other people think about us? Is that what I am supposed to figure out?"

"Maybe, once you get to know me better. If you, if we, get to a point where we want to commit and make a run at this for real, then maybe you need to go ahead and face it."

"It's real scary for me."

"That's good."

"Good? Why?"

"By the time you get to be my age, not much is all that scary anymore. Facing fear is thrilling. That's why you don't see many thrilled old people. Besides all that, if it's all that scary for you, it means you are invested in it, in me, and that makes me happy."

She took another step toward him and fell into him. He wrapped her up in his powerful arms and crushed her to him. Her lips met his and she felt his tongue slide into her mouth. She sucked on it like she fantasized about earlier and it was better than her fantasy. She was making out with an old man in front of Ybor and the world. She felt his hands run up and down her back, but he didn't disrespect her by grabbing her ass in public. She felt her pussy gush hot moisture as they kissed. This was what the brute could not do for her with all his attributes. Earl did it with a kiss.

"I need to be in your bed," she whispered into his mouth.

"You want me to get a car or you want to ride?"

"Ride, let's go."

Earl handed her a helmet after unclipping it from the side of the bike. She put it on over her braids then as discreetly and quickly as possible she raised and slid her left leg over the passenger seat of the Gixxer. Earl quickly put his hand on the inside of her right thigh then ran it down to her calf as she raised her right foot to look for the peg with her heels. She realized he was holding her bare leg from touching the hot exhaust pipe of the bike; like that kid from the Blind Side with the protective instinct. She took a moment to pull his body back to hers and squeeze him in appreciation. Her helmet clunked against his head lightly in her drunken need to be closer to him. She felt him chuckle in her arms.

In this raised squatting position, with her legs spread, her bare pussy was on full display to anybody walking by close enough to see between Earl's back and her front. She felt the bottom hem of her dress cut into her flesh at the crook of her hips and her ass. That meant that the lower half of her ass and all of her long legs were on display to the world. She tugged her dress down and slid her ass forward so it was as close to Earl's ass as possible. Earl grabbed her ankles and guided her feet so the sole of the high heels she wore were squarely on the pegs. She knew she looked obscene and several people in the crowd cheered for Earl. He flicked his cigarette away and put his helmet on.

He cranked the bike up and accelerated it into traffic. Rather than do a U-turn and roll back by the Reservoir Bar he made a right at the next cross street then a right on Eighth which ran back behind the bars, restaurants, and tattoo places on the main strip. She clutched at him tightly as they rode partly because she wanted to feel him against her, and partly because she was drunk and didn't want to fall off the back of the bike. She ground her bare clit down on the seat as she hugged his body with her legs.

He stayed off the highways and took surface roads all the way back to his house. He made sure she kept her leg off the hot pipe again as she dismounted. She took her helmet off and wobbled on her high heels, he dismounted, took his helmet off and steadied her. He guided her up the stairs to his house. Once upstairs he pulled her to him again and lowered his lips onto hers. His hands roamed her body more liberally than they did in the street in front of the world. She felt them on her ass, and her breasts, and then on her bare ass as he pulled her dress up, then her bare breasts as he pushed it down.

She felt her pussy gush with more of her juices. She wanted to go straight to bed and ride his cock to several overdue orgasms but she was not ready for that. She knew she still had residue of brute in her and she would not do that to Earl. She was not clean enough for him and she needed a shower before she abandoned herself to him.

"Can I use your bathroom before we jump in bed?"

"Sure."

"I want to shower."

"Okay," he said with a nod. "There's clean towels in there, help yourself."

She did and when she came out of the shower he was already laying in his big bed. He was reading a book that he set down as she came in. He was in his underwear and looked fantastic to her. He glowed. She told him that once, that he glowed, and this was what she was talking about. It wasn't a crack about his white skin. When she looked at him the rest of the world seemed subdued, blurry, darker. He emitted some kind of light that maybe only her eyes could see. It wasn't blinding, it was warm and inviting. What was that?

She was clean, inside and out, to the level she felt she should be for him. He deserved her at her best. It wasn't just that, the brute, her episode with him, made her feel dirty and unworthy of Earl. She regretted it. The closer she got to him the more it bothered her. Her flesh was clean but her mind, her memory, was still dirty. Her attempt to cure herself of her old white man malady felt like a betrayal. It wasn't. They were clear on this. He knew her intentions when she left him last. He didn't say he liked it, but he was clear on it, and he accepted it. So why did she feel so bad about what she did?

There were too many voices, influences, in her head. Starting with her father. He was the dominating male influence in her life. He was so correct in everything in his life that his opinion mattered to everyone. She never, not once, won an argument with him. No one did. Her sisters didn't even try. He expected her to be a certain way and to mature into a certain person. All her life her happiness was directly connected to his opinion of her. Only recently did she discover that her happiness no longer fell in line with his. It was a confusing time.

Fuck your dad, McGuire said. Nobody ever said that. She never considered it. To just disregard his wishes was hard to even contemplate. She did things he didn't like, a lot lately, but his disappointment in her was always on her mind. In this moment, as she crawled up Earl's body, naked, and straddled him she was happy. Her father's rage, if he found out about it, was not a part of that equation. She was not doing this as a fuck you to her father like Earl asked. She was into Earl, for Earl. Him drinking her made her notice him, but what was driving the attraction? It wasn't to get attention from daddy. It wasn't the taboo aspect of a black-white thing, or even an old-young thing. She found him attractive, there was no explaining it, and no need to except for that the rest of the female population did not. Why was that so important to her?

She rested her bare ass on his underwear covered cock. It was hard. Its fatness strained the material of his underwear and pressed against her clitoris. His white hands started at her black knees and caressed up her legs, over her bowed thighs, the whiteness of his hands clashing with the blackness of her legs, to her hip flare, then up her sides, her rib cage, to cup both of her breasts. His fingers tightened around her globes of flesh. The black meat of her breasts between the pale skin of his fingers was another visual treat. It didn't feel dirty, or taboo, just arousing to her, and to him.

His eyes were smoky with passion. No man ever looked at her quite the same way. Plenty looked upon her with desire, but not like this. His eyes, and the facial expression around them, they conveyed more than mere lust. His look communicated lust, for sure, so did his fat dick under her ass, but there was more to it. It spoke a language to her that she couldn't fully comprehend yet. There was also respect, appreciation, a commitment to the moment, and his absolute presence in it. He was not just looking, he was memorizing her. He was memorizing her in case he never saw her again. I worry every time that it is the last time, he said to her.

If he knew the degree of her infatuation with him she was sure he would worry less. Maybe she would try to make him understand it eventually. For now, she liked the way she looked at him. She rocked her hips back and forth so her pussy ground down on his cock through his underwear. She saw she made his underwear wet where her arousal was leaking from her pussy. The pressure of his hard cock against her pussy lips and clitoris as she slid them up and down his length created more moisture within her. She felt her orgasm building and wondered if this man was going to make her come before he even penetrated her.

He massaged her breasts in his hands as she rocked her hips on him. She leaned down and kissed him, he opened his mouth and her tongue dipped into it. His tongue met hers, slick, strong, and she sucked on it. His saliva was sweet, like he just had a piece of chocolate, and she licked deeper into his mouth. She felt his mustache on her upper lip and nose, and his beard on her lower lip and chin. Her pussy throbbed and she pressed it down harder on his lap.

She needed to feel his skin against her. She raised her hips and reached down between them and tugged his underwear down over his cock. She pushed it down his legs to his knees then lowered her pussy down again. She pressed his cock flat on his belly so it did not penetrate her. She wanted to see if her desire for this fat old white man was enough to get her off without actually putting him inside her. She pressed her clit hard against the base of his bare cock and slid it up the fat shaft. Her labia naturally separated and flattened against his cock to be dragged behind her clit. Her wetness made the slide more of a glide and she felt her orgasm ramp up as she slowly eased her clit over the helmet of his cock. He hissed, that noise he made when something felt good, but she didn't look at his face.

She was entranced by the sight of her clitoris. It was erect, as big as she ever saw it, like a little baby dick, the shaft of it was black but the exposed tip was pink, more like coral colored, and where it touched Earl's white dick, and the almost purple head, pleasure happened. She gasped at the explosions at the tip of her little girl dick. She slid it back down the length of his cock until her hard little clit was buried in his balls, then she stroked back up. More juice gushed out of her to coat him and her movements were turning it into a thick white cream that coated his cock.

"God bless," he gasped and she felt his cock throb against her.

She was making little sounds in her throat as her orgasm built. Soft, effeminate, high pitched groan-squeaks that she never made before in her life. Her orgasm was on a precipice, waiting to go over, penetration would be the order to jump, but Ashanti didn't want to give that order. She wanted to force her orgasm out without it. She slid her clitoris back and forth on the length of his cock faster, pressed down harder. At the top of her stroke she dropped her clitoris down over the head of his dick and she felt the girth of it press against her opening, threaten to split it and enter her, but at the last instant, before it could be called real penetration, she eased her pussy off the head of his dick and slid her clitoris back down to the base of it.

His left hand was clutching at her right breast, his right hand doing the same to her rounded left ass cheek as it moved back and forth on him. He used this grip on her ass to push her down harder onto him. He was thrusting up with his own hips. They were both frustrated by the lack of penetration but he seemed to intuit what it was she was trying to accomplish and was trying to help. He seemed to intuit it? Intuit it? What the fuck was that? How would he intuit this? She raised her head from where it hung, so she could stare at his cock digging through the furrow of her pussy, and at the sight of his face, white, hairy, determined, and frozen in a mask of agonizing pleasure. She came.

Her body shuddered on top of his. Her hips jerked and twitched as the spasms of intense joy crashed through her body. From the tip of her clitoris, to her gushing pussy, up through her core, then to slam into her brain. She wailed as the pleasure ripped through her like slow electricity, liquefying her insides. Her thighs gripped his sides as her wail turned to a guttural roar. She kept looking at his face and she kept coming. Mission accomplished. As the next wave of her powerful orgasm crashed into her she reached down, took his cock in her hand, and lodged the fat head of his fat dick against the opening of her pussy and slammed her ass backward to take it all in in one stroke.

The sudden fullness blasted the air from her lungs and she came again, harder, and she felt him tense beneath her. He pulled her down onto him so her breasts were smashed against his beard and chest. He slammed his cock even deeper into her from below. Both of his hands were gripping her ass tightly, almost painfully, as he held her pussy in place and stroked up into it. She felt his balls flatten against her ass with the force of his thrusts, once, twice, three times, and then the fourth he buried his cock as deep into her as he could and held her there, impaled, as he shuddered through his climax. She was still coming as she felt his seed spurt deep into her. She was weeping into his neck.

They were both gasping as their orgasms slowly subsided. His hard cock was still inside her and she knew that taking it out would be agonizing. She would feel empty once it was gone, and that was its own kind of hurt, but as it slid out it would stimulate, over-stimulate, what felt liked ravaged nerves already. She was heaving on top of him as they both tried to take in oxygen. They were both sweating and their shiny skin was another visual treat in addition to the contrast of skin colors. When he took it out of her she felt like it would be followed by a river of their combined fluids.

"I'm going to do it. You ready?" she gasped in his ear.

"Not yet. Just don't move for a bit. Not an inch. Be still."

She chuckled at his words and her laughter caused movement and pressure in her pussy and he gasped and she felt him shake his head with the torture. She too felt the over-stimulation and gasped into his neck and hair where her face was buried just over his right shoulder.

"You don't fucking listen," he growled at her and she laughed again.

It was more than either could take and she pushed up off him in one stroke to end the torment. They both gasped again as his cock slid free of her. She slid off him to lay against his right side. The sight of his cock made her gasp again. It was coated in an embarrassing amount of frothy girl come. Some of it was him, but most of it was her. A drop of come rose from the hole in the top of his cock like lava and dripped onto his belly. She felt the wetness on her cheek as she pressed it to his shoulder.

She cried. She cried during sex. That never happened before. She was not sad, or in pain. It just happened. As she came it all felt so perfect, so pleasurable, so correct. She forgot about the rest of the world like it was swept away by her tsunami orgasm. There was a moment as she came where her and Earl were the only people in the universe. There was no disapproving family, no Elaine to explain it all too, no McGuire to make her feel like a piece of shit for caring about it all. It was all swept away and replaced with emotion. Emotion? What emotion? Fuck that. She was not catching feelings for the fifty year old man she was fucking.