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| Site contents Copyright © 2005-2015 Bridget Midway All Rights Reserved |
"The Dance"
Me and my big mouth…literally, I think as I have my man’s thick dick sliding in between my lips. I hold onto
Jarron’s muscled thighs, full of tension, and I let my mouth and tongue, do all the work. I ease down over his
dark shaft and back up to his plump mushroom tip that I can’t help but nip every time I reach it.
Jarron sucks air through his teeth when I graze his sensitive head. I gaze up at him. He loves it when I give him
what he calls my ‘Bambi eyes’.
“Them brown eyes can get me to do anything, girl,” he always tells me.
His darks eyes, almost as black as the night sky, have the power to control me.
He grits his snow-white teeth, and against his mahogany skin, he looks gorgeous. Seven years of being
together and not a dull day yet.
I reach my hand up through his open shirt, the shirt he was buttoning when I grabbed him and pulled his dick
out of his pants. Age hasn’t tarnished his light. His stomach still ripples with muscles thanks to daily crunches
and a voracious sexual appetite that has a sista like me begging for mercy some nights.
I wrap my other hand around the base of his cock. I can feel him throbbing. That and the fact that his legs are
shaking like a clothesline in a strong breeze, I know he’s about to give me some of that sweet cum.
“Damn it, baby,” Jarron says between gritted teeth. “You know how to get it, don’t you?”
I stare at him as much as I can while I’m sucking his dick. His sweet pre-cum teases me for the treat I will be
getting soon. Jarron holds onto my hand that has been resting on his stomach. He pumps his hips back and
forth, fucking my mouth.
Used to be my jaw and lips would be sore from this little act. He’s as thick as one of them damn Hickory Farms
sausages you see during Christmas time, and as long as his size fourteen feet. Whoever said shoe size does
not equate with penis size did not know my Jarron.
Now that we’ve been together for so long, I know how to take him. I know how to read him. As sure as shit, I
know that in five seconds he’s going to shoot his load in my mouth and say my full name.
Five.
He lets out a haggard breath. “Oh shit! Right there! Right fucking there!”
Four.
He’s pumping faster. My fisted hand around his shaft moves down to his balls to cradle them. They tighten in
my hand, another sure sign.
Three.
Jarron puts his hand to the back of my head. Ordinarily that would piss me off and he knows this. We’re about
to go out on the town. I just got my hair done and I didn’t want to look like I had been sucking dick all
night…even if I have been.
Two.
He stomps his left foot twice. My baby. Always so predictable.
One.
“Mahogany Beatrice Porter! Damn, I love you!”
I feel the stream hit the back of my throat. I suck right away, swallowing all of his juices like I know he likes. He
tastes sweet, like the cream I add to my coffee every morning. I ease up on the pressure but still massage his
balls as I slither my tongue over him.
When I pull back, I gaze up at him. A thin layer of sweat covers him from his shaved head down to his navel.
“I love you too, baby,” I say.
I sit back on my haunches. When he leans down, butterflies kick up in my stomach. Cupping my cheek in his
meaty hand, he strokes my skin with the pad of his thumb then plants the sweetest kiss on my lips. My man.
With a kiss, a look, a touch, I’m both boneless and weightless. When he pulls back, he reminds me of my
unyielding devotion. “You sure you want to do this tonight?”
Copyright © 2006 by Bridget Midway. All rights reserved.
Jarron’s muscled thighs, full of tension, and I let my mouth and tongue, do all the work. I ease down over his
dark shaft and back up to his plump mushroom tip that I can’t help but nip every time I reach it.
Jarron sucks air through his teeth when I graze his sensitive head. I gaze up at him. He loves it when I give him
what he calls my ‘Bambi eyes’.
“Them brown eyes can get me to do anything, girl,” he always tells me.
His darks eyes, almost as black as the night sky, have the power to control me.
He grits his snow-white teeth, and against his mahogany skin, he looks gorgeous. Seven years of being
together and not a dull day yet.
I reach my hand up through his open shirt, the shirt he was buttoning when I grabbed him and pulled his dick
out of his pants. Age hasn’t tarnished his light. His stomach still ripples with muscles thanks to daily crunches
and a voracious sexual appetite that has a sista like me begging for mercy some nights.
I wrap my other hand around the base of his cock. I can feel him throbbing. That and the fact that his legs are
shaking like a clothesline in a strong breeze, I know he’s about to give me some of that sweet cum.
“Damn it, baby,” Jarron says between gritted teeth. “You know how to get it, don’t you?”
I stare at him as much as I can while I’m sucking his dick. His sweet pre-cum teases me for the treat I will be
getting soon. Jarron holds onto my hand that has been resting on his stomach. He pumps his hips back and
forth, fucking my mouth.
Used to be my jaw and lips would be sore from this little act. He’s as thick as one of them damn Hickory Farms
sausages you see during Christmas time, and as long as his size fourteen feet. Whoever said shoe size does
not equate with penis size did not know my Jarron.
Now that we’ve been together for so long, I know how to take him. I know how to read him. As sure as shit, I
know that in five seconds he’s going to shoot his load in my mouth and say my full name.
Five.
He lets out a haggard breath. “Oh shit! Right there! Right fucking there!”
Four.
He’s pumping faster. My fisted hand around his shaft moves down to his balls to cradle them. They tighten in
my hand, another sure sign.
Three.
Jarron puts his hand to the back of my head. Ordinarily that would piss me off and he knows this. We’re about
to go out on the town. I just got my hair done and I didn’t want to look like I had been sucking dick all
night…even if I have been.
Two.
He stomps his left foot twice. My baby. Always so predictable.
One.
“Mahogany Beatrice Porter! Damn, I love you!”
I feel the stream hit the back of my throat. I suck right away, swallowing all of his juices like I know he likes. He
tastes sweet, like the cream I add to my coffee every morning. I ease up on the pressure but still massage his
balls as I slither my tongue over him.
When I pull back, I gaze up at him. A thin layer of sweat covers him from his shaved head down to his navel.
“I love you too, baby,” I say.
I sit back on my haunches. When he leans down, butterflies kick up in my stomach. Cupping my cheek in his
meaty hand, he strokes my skin with the pad of his thumb then plants the sweetest kiss on my lips. My man.
With a kiss, a look, a touch, I’m both boneless and weightless. When he pulls back, he reminds me of my
unyielding devotion. “You sure you want to do this tonight?”
Copyright © 2006 by Bridget Midway. All rights reserved.