Nike a Raven Haired Cajun Beauty Ch. 02

Nike wiped at her face removing a dried glob from her nose and another from her left eye, "Yeah I look like a princess!" she snorted with her laughter, "So why didn't you join them?"

"I wanted to... but If I left the register you know I would be robbed."

Nike nodded. "I have a match tomorrow in the Woman's Tennis Association..."

"NO shit!" He was taken back, "I never thought you haughty girls knew anything about what you just did..."

"Oh I am not from a rich family, I made my way like any normal person. Luck, fortune... magic... destiny..." she shrugged, "What have you- here I am, anyway after the match... if I come over can you and I?" she held up her two hands, as fists with her pointer fingers extended and brought them together.

"Most certainly... I'll make sure I have someone in to watch the bar!" he shook his head, "Nike, don't come in here like last time- I won't get a chance to be with you... and some of these people know my wife!" he warned her as she left.

She tucked the bathrobe he had given her under her arm. The tight shorts and T-shirt stuck to her sticky skin in the hot night. The cum that had dried, came back to life as moister from her perspiration mixed with it. The evening heat and her previous exertion made the short trip to the hotel that much further.

A hot shower would have worked wonders, but Tamil wasn't there to insist upon it and in her current state he most certainly would have, so she slipped on her blue nightie and climbed into bed. She ran her fingers over her nipples, her pussy lips and her stomach, thrilling her lips with the sweet salty nectar left by a hundred strangers, all Black men from various walks of life, some old some fat, some barely old enough to enter a bar. She thought of their faces, straining, gasping. She thought of their long thick dicks thrashing around inside of her, the hot cum that filled her and covered her. She licked her fingers. "Mm... naughty girl." she told herself.

Before Nike knew she had fallen asleep, it was morning.

Through the night, the men's cum had seeped from her body and when she woke, she found her panties and bed soaked. Peeling off her panties, she hid them in her drawer, hoping to put them on that night in memory of all the fun she had the night before. She was saddened to have to shower, and lose all the cum that had dried on her, but she knew it had to be done. Tamil had the shower before her and left it steamy hot. Her aches and pains vanished under the throbbing pulse of the hot soft jet streams. She brushed her teeth, had a very soft bowl movement and decided to take another shower afterward. She rinsed her hair and pulled it into a tail then put on the one piece jumper and shorts that Tamil had bought her.

In the lobby, Nike put on her white baseball cap with the rim pulled down over her eyes.

Traffic was considerably easier than the day before and little conversation happened in the cab. She could tell Tamil was nervous about something, but couldn't think of the English words to use to ask him, and she didn't want to resort to French as they had been- wanting to make use of the English dialect, and not use French as a crutch.

"You will be playing against Amelia MAURESMO from France, last year she was seated Number one and this year, so far, she is as well. If you remember she won last years Australian Open and is a great favorite thought this series. If we win today, we are ahead and even if we lose the next mach, we can pay for the hotels and the travel to the next event... do you follow?"

Nike understood, she nodded.

"Now she is dominant, Amelia, but if you can keep her from coming to the net you have a good chance. I have compared you two, and you have more spunk, you know that fire so dog into the match and dig in, you can win." he said as they arrived at the arena. "I will be in the stadium from here, I have to arrange a meeting with the press." he leaned in, removed her hat and kissed her forehead, "Godspeed little one."

She smiled at him, blushed and fixed her hat back atop her head, pulling the pony tail through the back opening on the cap. excitement filled the locker room. She hadn't been there before with the other players. Some nodded in cordial greetings and others ignored her as she passed to find an empty, unclaimed locker. "What is that in your cup!" asked a tall brunet with a Russian accent.

"Coffee, with CHICKORY." Nike popped off the lid and showed her, "would you like some?"

"Are you crazy it's too hot for coffee!" the woman introduced herself as Anna JANKOVICH, "Are you from France?"

"No, America... Born and raised."

"You sound French."

"I am not."

"Nicky!" the tall Russian called over her shoulder, "Mary Pierce is from France, Canada or America?"

"NO doubt Florida, like all the Russians." Nike offered the jest, trying to fit in.

"What?" Anna stared down at the little Nike for a long moment and then laughed: "That is a good one! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Wait until I tell SAFIN that one!" she walked away from Nike after slapping her on the back, "Good luck little one."

She waited outside the locker room, on a bench. Her large racket in her hand, spinning it and sipping her coffee until the escort agent came for her, "NIKA?"

"Nike? Yes Ma'am?"

"Are you ready NIKA?"

Shaking her head, Nike rose to her feet and followed the agent. The corridor turned left and there were television crews waiting in a corner, the interviewer, another tall woman with short brown hair let her pass and then asked Amelia MAURESMO several questions which held them up as the agent at the door stopped Nike. "The returning champion first." the man said. "She won this event before going on to win the open. We have roses for you Amelia." he said to her when she drew near. "Thank you." she said stepping around Nike who ducked back as the champion passed.

Nike felt invisible in the crowd. She was the shortest person there, save for the ball catchers. And EVERYONE ignored her. Out on the court, silence followed Amelia's applause at entry. No one knew Nike and if they did they still wouldn't know who NIKA was, on the board her name was still wrong. She sipped some of her CHICKERY and put the cup by the chair then loosened up by jumping in place and then warmed up with Amelia when told to by the judge.

They came to meet at the net when called and the Judge, a New Zealander, said he wanted a clear game, that they could challenge 2 calls per set and no more.

"Challenge a call?" Nike thought as she returned to her corner, "There is a way to make the judge like you."

She lost the toss and waited for Amelia's serve. "Step in to it." She remembered Tamil telling her. "On the first serve, the very first. If you are going to take her out of it you have to do so early, remove her confidence."

Nike watched, timing her step inside to when Amelia was about to serve.

The French champion through the ball up and prepared to strike when she say the white capped NIKA step forward. Inter her first serve! The impudence! Amelia's ball struck the net. Her second serve hit the line, and then she double faulted.

Nike's confidence rose as the champions' and her game diminished. She faulted again on her serve but the second one was well within the mark.

Nike took the easy stroke in stride and sent a winner back hand across the court to Amelia's right. The crowed applauded the play. Volley after volley,, the points fell to Nike and despite two challenges against Nike's serve, which was by far not the strongest, the first set was a sweep at 6 to NIKA and 2 to MAURESMO.

She wished her parents were there and wondered if they were even watching the game. She knew her mom would want to and her sisters too, but in that house what mattered was what father wanted. The only time he wanted anything to do with her is when she was naked, on her back or giving him head. She adjusted the rim of her hat during a break, not wanting to cry, in reflection. Took a sip of the hot coffee, then another. The day was already blistering hot and she wondered how the players were going to get through the later hours. Unlike Louisiana, Australia had a dry heat.

The crowed applauded as they took the court again, for the second match.

What happened next was an accident but the message was effective. MAURESMO stepped into Nike's serve and though it effected her aim, it didn't do so the way the French woman had hoped. Nike served low, MAURESMO fired off a great return, with too much force, so much so that when Nike brought her racket to bear, the ball shot a strait line for Amelia and nailed her in the side when she came up to the net in hopes for a weak return from which she could hit a winner.

"Fifteen Love, NIKA!" the judge announced.

Amelia was pissed.

Nike raised her racket in apology but to no avail. From then on, all of the champions shots were out or too short and the second set was over quicker than the first. Nike didn't drop a serve and she broke MAURESMO three times for a 6 to 0 match.

Now the press wanted to talk to Nike. Unfortunately Tamil was not present and neither really understood each other. Nike had a thick Cajun accent and her French was Creole. One of the interviewers were familiar with her speech but they could not get that person on sight until later so the interview went equally quick. She signed her name on offered balls and pamphlets as she went to the locker room, enjoying the sudden rush of being adored by the crowed. In the locker room she found Ana again. "Congratulations little one- say maybe you will meet me tonight for diner?"

"Um... OK."

"Here, call this number when you are ready." the Russian stuffed a paper in her hand then tapped her cheek with her palm, "You are a pretty little thing."

"Don't call her!" a frizzy haired American player, only a little taller than Nike, came up to her after the Russian left. "You cannot trust the Russians!"

"Why?"

"They are always up to something!"

"My name is SHRIVER." she offered a hand in greeting, "What hotel are you staying at?"

Nike was taken back, "You know I never paid attention to that... It's the one around the traffic circle near the Black Angus Lounge?"

"Not familiar with the area." SHRIVER admitted. "Congratulations on winning, Amelia is a good and fair player. It is said that losing means elimination, but them's the breaks right kid?" SHRIVER tapped Nike's shoulder, "Her or you right? Me or you?" her hand lingered on Nike's shoulder.

"Well good luck to you." Nike said, her mind consumed with the bar and the bartender. Surely he was a well endowed man. She thought about his cock, how big and thick it would be. He was an older man, surely he knew how to work it well, like her father did.

Disappointment greeted her in the lobby. "Sheila!" the muscular blonde Australian stood between her and the elevator. "I was just working out, going to do some dips and squats but then there you are my angel, think I'd rather work on you a bit, sure you're lucky for that eh?"

"Oh luck has nothing to do with it." she frowned, looking away, "Not good luck anyway."

Never one to avoid a problem, Nike took him in the elevator. Once the doors closed, she backed into him, scooting her one piece short-skirt to the side and massaged his small dick quickly up into her hole. "Hmm! going to give it to me?" she asked in French.

"Oh Sheila!" he gripped her shoulders and let her ride him, grinding back into him as he thrust forward. "Oh! Yes!" their bodies slapped together quickly. (SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!) "Oh Sheila you feel so good. Core baby you're a hot to trot slut!"

Nike abandoned any hope of pleasuring herself on his small tool, but knew the quicker he was done the better it would be for her. She grinded back and with expertise reached between her legs, groping his small nut-sack. "Oh you going to give it to me? You going to cum baby?" she asked in her thick Creole.

He came instantly. "Oh yes! Oh! Oh! Ah! Fuck sake! Oh! Ah!"

The doors opened on her floor and she walked out.

"You going to go like this? Like that?" he tried to pull up his pants to follow but she was gone. "They can't get enough of you man!"

In her room, she wiped his cum from her crotch with her blue nightie, which had dried at the bottom of a small pile in her dresser drawer. She showered, not needing to use any body jell as her skin had a natural sweet scent, and only added a little perfume, she borrowed it from Tamil. Then she dressed in her blue jeans, black T-shirt and her baseball cap. She found the bar easily enough and was relieved in it's cool dark interior instantly from the heat of the day. On the Television, the tennis match was on and the Bar was mostly empty. Her target was at the bar, "Mind if I sit here?"

"There is most certainly room, and you are most welcome."

"I like these cushions on the stools." Nike said gripping them with her hands and spinning on the stool, her legs dangling off the ground on either side. "Wee! They are fun!" she laughed and took the Lager he put before her, "Thanks."

"No- thank you, I really didn't think you would show."

"Are you kidding?"

He shrugged, "I am just a man,. an average man- who am I to be a target of any affection from a pretty little thing like you?"

She removed her cap, allowing her long strait black hair, which ran nearly to her ass, to wave free. "You are a handsome, successful man. What makes you think you don't have a right to me?" Nike shrugged, "Besides, who am I to be prized so?"

He came around the bar and stood beside her, an arm on her back, massaging her and another in the front. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

She blushed and leaned back into his chest, kissing him up over her right shoulder. His Negro lips engulfed her little mouth. She took his hand from the bar and guided it into her lap where instantly he took to the work of groping her. "Mm... such big strong hands." she cooed in French.

He broke from their second kiss and sucked on her neck. She reached around his head, keeping him there, watching herself in the mirror behind the bar.

"You taste so good! Your skin is so sweet, soft, you're delicious!" he grunted as he took her mouth again with his, his tongue pushing deep inside.

She stroked his tongue with her own and spun on the stool to face him, "Lets fuck, right now! I need to feel you deep inside me, fill me with your hot seed!"

He could barely understand what she was saying, for her accent was thick: "You're so sophisticated baby!" he pulled her off the stool and took her around, behind the bar. Nike gripped the bar, dropping her pants and turned to face the bar room itself, watching their reflection in the distant mirror, which ran the length of the bar, above the booths. Two patrons in the room took notice of them, the third was sleeping.

Eagerly he slipped her pants down as she unbuttoned them and brought his dick to bear on her soft pussy lips, which parted easily enough for him. Her welcoming warmth engulfed his member. He thrust up, in his second effort he was buried up inside her to the base.

"Oh yes!" she grimaced, gripping the edge of the bar and stroking her pussy muscles around his dick, "You feel so good!" She grunted, "Deep inside me, oh yes fuck my little pussy!"

He didn't understand a word of her Creole, but knew the meaning. Gripping her hair and with one hand on the bar for balance he began to piston himself in and out of her glistening pussy. His long shaft pushing up her insides then stretching her lips back, back and forth.

"Oh-oh-oh yes!" she cooed.

Their bodies came together in a loud slapping smack which filled the bar with their sounds of lust. Under her black T-shirt, her small breasts bounced back and forth as he thrust faster, deeper, stronger up inside her. "Oh baby you feel so good! Your skin is so soft, so smooth!" (SMACK, SLAP, SLAP, SMACK!) her pussy juices flowed free, her whole body tingling with delight, his thick black cock soundly fucking her. Other patrons, from the back, came forward to see what was happening, and took up seats at the bar, watching the show.

"Oh fuck yes!" she grunted, "Fuck my little hole! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Fuck her Davy!" the men cheered, slapping their mugs on the bar top. "Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!" they chanted.

He grunted a reply. Sweat poured from his face on to her lower back, doubling his efforts, his balls smacked back and forth as he worked his long rod in and out of her as far as it would go from head to base. "Oh shit yes!" he breathed.

"Fuck me! Yes!" she gripped her small tits, pulling her shirt up and feverishly pulled at her nipples. "Fuck yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Oh-Oh! Fuck!" he grunted a final "humph!" and pushed up into her deeper than he had before. Her little body thrashed around, coming as he came, filling her up with his seed.

Nike fluttered, kicking with her legs, squirming as his dick exploded deep inside her, "Oh fuck yes!" she cooed, "Fill me with your hot cum baby! Yes!"

He squeezed her body tight to his, until she stopped squirming and his dick stopped thrashing.

Slowly he backed out.

Nike closed her pussy lips up around his dick as it came out, not wanting to lose any of his juice. She cupped her hand between her legs, catching a few drops as he parted from her. Quickly she licked off her fingers. "Mm! You taste good Davy?"

"Aye, that's my name." he gasped, pulling his pants up, gave the men across the bar a stern look.

"Hey Sheila, there's more of that over here." one of the Black men said gripping his pants, not expecting anything from it.

"I bet you'd like that, right?" She said pulling her pants up tight before anything else leaked out. "you'll just have to settle for watching the business done boys." she played, turning her back to them and flipping her hair.

Davy offered them an apologetic look and spread his palms up, "I guess I am just blessed or something."

Nike slid down him before he stuffed his pecker away and eased it into her mouth, catching it before it waned.

"Oh I am an old man Sheila, I don't think there is much left in me."

"Yeah don't waste your pretty lips on his shriveling cock babe, come round here!"

Nike ignored them now and set to the task at hand. She pivoted her head and dipped back and forth, sucking along the whole length of his shaft. She pulled his balls from his pants and sucked on them, fondled them, sucked on them some more and then returned to the business of keeping him erect.

"Oh there you go!" he said slapping the bar.

He didn't have to tell her, she knew it was working. Before long she had to struggle to take him to the back of her throat as his purple head was swollen. "Oh-oh yes! Hmm!" she said removing her mouth from him and jacking him off with her hands for a while.

"You have the most beautiful eyes." he said staring down into them as she took him again in her mouth.

She hummed as she sucked him and popped the head out, cooing as she rubbed her face with his slimy dick: "You're so big!"" she grinned, "I love it when you fuck me."

"Lady I don't know what you said, but you say it so good." he gasped. Her French accent taking him to the edge. "Oh I think I am going to cum baby- yes Yes! Oh-oh-Oh!" he thrust his hips at her.

She opened her mouth to him and rested her tongue at the base of his swollen purple head: "Give me your cum baby!" she said in French, "Oh yes!"

His dick twitched, a hot glob shot up her nose than a whole stream of goo sprayed across her face from her left cheek to her right eye. She began jerking him off again and three globs painted her neck, the third caught her jeans and the forth, her for head. "Mm!" she said, taking him back into her mouth. "You taste so good!" Nike swallowed what little bit had actually made it into her mouth, the rest she smeared into her face and neck with her fingers, then licked them clean.