Honey Flava Page 3

  That first moment of encasement for him was sacred; he lingered in its glory. Widening her legs, he stroked her moist, pulsating haven. She squealed in delight. Occasionally he stopped to survey her elegant expression and bountiful breasts. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on her physical and emotional ardor. He brought her legs together and placed them on his chest with her feet beside his head. She tightened around him, and their stimulations increased. Guttural sounds escaped her as she climaxed. Using his legs, he pumped into and out of her. He was on fire, his cock throbbing as he pulled and pushed over and over.

  His Taoist discipline enabled him to delay his climax by belly breathing and concentrating on his mantra, Searl-sie. He varied his thrusting motions from slow to fast, short to long, rhythmic to random, pumping her while massaging and gorging on her nipples. She climaxed with moans of pleasure. She experienced orgasms, howling in bliss, as he kneaded her clitoris and rammed her with abandon. He kept her in an almost continuous orgasmic state.

  She responded to his every touch and action. She arched her back to meet his thrusts, moved her pelvis in small and large circles, and wiggled her hips from side to side. She grabbed his hands, massaged his arms, ran her fingers over his face and neck, and rubbed the hair on his chest. This was a new experience for Randy; he was used to passive partners.

  As he ground into her, she countered in kind. Looking down on her incredible form, he realized he was approaching enlightenment. He felt an electric charge of passion surge from his scrotum through his penis. Accelerating his movements he jack-hammered her until with a cry of ecstasy—“Aaaagh”—he exploded and filled her with fluid.

  “Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh,” she cried as he spurted into her over and over. His continuous spasms brought them to tears. He stood belly breathing, knees shaking, fatigued and satisfied with his earth-shattering release and her response. Amazed, he stared at the slowly disappearing aura surrounding her head.

  When he was flaccid, they dried themselves with a towel. They lay facing each other in the middle of the bed covered with a sheet. When their breathing returned to normal, she asked, “Can we talk? Did we just experience some form of magic?”

  “Yes,” he said, “the world moved for me. That was the most awesome orgasm I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Thank God you said that because I lost count of my orgasms.”

  Randy woke before Mali. After he showered, he put on a robe and went to his laptop and composed his story for Still Photo. After printing a copy of the conclusion in a size 20 font, he taped it to the mirror in the bathroom.

  CONCLUSION

  Prada’s Asian summer fashion line is stunning, but clothing details will be found in other sources, because the objective of this article was the filming process. The management of Play Figure provided the best camera equipment and personnel available. The four-hour session was designed to produce the highest-quality still photographs possible. The organization and planning of the process was choreographed like a Broadway musical. The chief photographer and set director, along with a wide variety of technicians, worked as effectively and efficiently as an automated assembly line. However, the star of the day, the figure that added spice to the photographs and clothing line, was the lovely, voluptuous Mali Chun. Prada’s exotic Asian styles may sweep the summer fashion market, but they have also propelled a young lady toward the top of the list of supermodels.

  Calling room service, he ordered fruit, club sandwiches, coffee, and chocolate mousse. Sitting on the couch, he watched the muted TV while thinking about his life and the gorgeous female lying in his bed. He was living the good life: good pay; traveling the world; mixing with the economic, social, and political elites; and having access to some of the best-looking females in the world. He was having his brains fucked out regularly. However, he knew he had found something with Mali. He was now aware that he wasn’t so sure he was living the good life.

  He heard the water running in the bathroom and waited with anticipation. Soft footfalls approached the back of the couch.

  “Randy,” he heard his name called in a sweet singsong voice, “when did you write this?”

  “While you were sleeping.”

  “It’s wonderful. I can’t believe the last two sentences.”

  “They’re true.”

  Mali walked to the front of the couch. She was wearing his bathrobe. It was open in the front. She allowed it to drop, revealing her magnificence.

  “You’re trying to make me famous,” she said, bending to kiss him.

  Her melons dangled provocatively in front of him. As he accepted her lips, his hands cupped the flesh that calmed the itching of his palms; he was instantly hard. “I was planning on this being a one-night stand,” he said, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Am I worth two nights?” she asked, smiling as she straddled his legs and pushed her breasts into his face.

  “I’m being serious here.”

  “So am I,” she said as she rose, guiding his cock into her.

  He groaned at the pleasure of her formfitting flesh sliding over him. Holding her upright, he stared into her face. Before he could speak, she placed her finger over his lips and said, “You were wonderful this afternoon. I’ve never had an experience like that. Can we do it again?”

  “On one condition.”

  “What?”

  “You move in with me.”

  Wickedly, she smiled at him and said, “This is my answer.” She lifted a nipple to his mouth, and using her haunches, she pummeled him.

  He suckled on the rosebud of her nipple and arched his back to elevate himself farther into her. Switching sides, he helped her move with his hands on her hips.

  “Ooom, you’re good,” she sighed, “keep that up.”

  As she moved relentlessly on his cock, he said, “I’m serious. I’ve only known you a few hours, but I don’t want to give you up. I don’t want to think about other guys being with you. I want you for myself.”

  “You’ve got me spindled. What else can I say?” she said with rapid, shallow breaths.

  “Say yes.”

  “Only if you give it to me right now.”

  “I can’t in this position.”

  “Let’s change then.”

  He pushed her off, turned her around, and entered her from behind. “Hold on to the couch,” he said as he rammed into her fast and hard. He was lost in the sensations of the friction between them, and wave after wave of pleasure moved from his scrotum through his cock.

  Mali was moaning and pushing her pussy at him. “Randy, Randy, Randy, give it to me, give it to me,” she groaned.

  Holding her by the hips, he plunged into and out of her as rapidly as he could. Over and over, he thrust; he could feel the heat rising in his body.

  “I’m cumming!” she screamed, “I can’t wait any longer, fuck me!”

  Like NASCAR at the starting line, he accelerated his strokes until he passed his point of no return. Normally, he would delay, delay, delay, but her command and the ecstasy was too much for him, and he exploded like a blown engine. He ejected hot sperm in a torrid flow of fluid and passion and was rewarded by Mali’s scream: “Oh God, oh God, oh God, Randy, you fuck like a Chinese god. Yes, yes, yes, I’ll move in with you!”

  Emma’s Cricket Lesson

  ANNA BLACK

  HE WAS THE HANDSOMEST man sitting at the hotel bar.

  Emma frowned. Scratch that. He was the only man sitting at the hotel bar. But that did not undo how fine he was. But it wasn’t his gorgeous face or his sexy body Emma was interested in.

  She frowned. Scratch that. She was interested in his gorgeous face and sexy body. Very much so. But not right now.

  What had her attention was that he was avidly watching the bar’s television, and on the screen, men were playing cricket. Or at least she assumed they were playing cricket. Emma knew as much about cricket as she knew about thermonuclear physics. But, between now and tomorrow morning, she needed to learn about the game or risk blo
wing her career as a talent agent before it even got started.

  She rose from her seat and walked over to the handsome, cricket-watching man. His eyes were glued to the television. Emma glanced at the screen. All she knew about cricket was that it was as popular in India as baseball was in the United States.

  She cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

  He didn’t turn around. Emma reached over to touch his shoulder, but he suddenly turned and looked at her. From a distance his eyes had looked hazel, but she saw now that not only were they hazel but green and what looked like gold. Never in her life had she seen such striking eyes.

  “Sorry about that.” His Indian accent was lighter than that of most of the people she had encountered since arriving in Bangalore. “Didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Emma smiled. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to interrupt the game.” She shook her head. “Scratch that. I did mean to interrupt.”

  His smiled widened. “How may I assist you, Ms….?” He raised a brow inquiringly.

  “Emma. Emma Edwards.”

  He inclined his head. “Sanjay Kumar.”

  She gestured at the empty seat next to his. “May I?”

  He nodded and Emma sat down.

  “Now, what can I do for you, Ms. Edwards?”

  She looked up at the television screen. “I was wondering if you could teach me about cricket.” She glanced nervously at Sanjay. “That is cricket, right?”

  He laughed. “Yes, it’s cricket. Why do you want me to teach you about it?”

  “I’m a talent agent. From America.”

  “America? Really? I never would have guessed.”

  Emma ignored his teasing. “I’ve been sent here to sign…to try and sign Harjit Patel.”

  “Sign him? You mean as a client?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Why?” Sanjay asked. “Cricket isn’t very big in America.”

  “Are you familiar with The Golden Lotus?”

  “The novel by Lalima Bhanjee? Of course. She may not be as big a celebrity here in India as Harjit, but she’s very well known.”

  “All the major Hollywood studios are involved in a bidding war to option her book into a movie. My boss believes Harjit would be perfect in the lead role. He wants me to sign him so we can have him on board once the book is sold.”

  Sanjay slowly nodded. “And you want to learn about cricket in order to establish some common ground before you begin negotiations.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Ms. Edwards, I will be more than happy to teach you about cricket.” He hesistated. “But, in return, you must do something for me.”

  “And what is that, Mr. Kumar?”

  “Go to bed with me, of course,” he said, smiling. “I’ve wanted to go to bed with you since I saw you walk into the bar.”

  Emma didn’t know whether to believe him; especially the part about his having seen her walk into the bar. His eyes had been glued to the television from the moment she entered.

  She did, however, believe the part about his wanting to go to bed with her. Not that she was vain, but Emma had had enough men pay her compliments about her voluptuous body, her smooth caramel skin, and her large black eyes to know she seemed to have what most men wanted.

  Even Indian men, it appeared.

  She shrugged and tried to act nonchalant, but a sharp current of lust arced through her. Sanjay folded his long, slender fingers. The fingers Emma had, in spite of herself, been imagining stroking deep inside her pussy.

  “So we are agreed, then?” he said.

  “Only if you promise to teach me enough about cricket that I won’t make a fool of myself with Harjit.”

  The corner of Sanjay’s mouth curled up. “I can’t guarantee you won’t make a fool of yourself, Ms. Edwards. However, I doubt that will be so.”

  He rose from his chair and offered her his hand. She liked the way his hand felt. Warm and smooth. She could well imagine what the rest of his body would feel like. Just as warm. Just as smooth.

  He guided her hand to the crook of his arm and rested it there. Lord, this was too much. Emma giggled.

  He looked over at her. “What is it that you find humorous?”

  “Look at you. Taking my arm like we were on our way to a dance instead of…” She stopped. “Where are we going exactly? You’re staying here at the hotel?”

  He nodded. “I’m here for a business conference. But why don’t we go to your room.”

  “Fine with me. Anyway, as I was saying, you’re acting like we’re going to a ball instead of to my room to…”

  He grinned. “Teach you about cricket?”

  She smiled. “That’s one way of describing it, I guess.”

  They entered the lobby and made their way to her room.

  Emma took her room’s key card out of her purse. However, before she could slide it through the magnetic reader, Sanjay put his hand over hers.

  “Allow me.”

  He slid the card through the reader, opened the door, and gestured for her to enter. Once inside, he pulled her to him so that her back was pressed against his chest. He moved his hands over her silk blouse and kneaded her breasts.

  Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. Well, he certainly wasted no time. She didn’t usually allow potential bedmates to move so quickly to first base but she wasn’t about to tell him to stop.

  “Hmmm, that feels good. You know just how to touch a woman’s breasts.”

  He molded them between his hands. “I’ve had some experience.”

  “Speaking of experience, don’t forget you’re supposed to be teaching me about cricket. That is what we came up here for.”

  He pressed his groin against her buttocks, his erection sliding along the crevice. “You still want to learn about cricket? When all I want to do is fuck this delicious derriere of yours?”

  Delighted by his words, Emma couldn’t help but wriggle her butt against his cock. “Of course I want to learn about cricket. My meeting with Harjit is tomorrow.”

  Sanjay moved his hands to the buttons on her blouse. He slowly undid them as he skimmed his lips along the side of her neck. Once her blouse was open, he slid his hands inside it and cupped her breasts again. He squeezed her nipples where they swelled beneath her bra.

  Emma sighed. She loved it when a man took the time to play with her breasts before fucking her.

  “Cricket,” she gasped as she felt her pussy growing wetter. “Tell me about cricket.”

  He nibbled her neck. “There are two teams. Eleven players each.”

  “Isn’t it…” Emma shuddered as Sanjay sucked hard at the spot between her shoulder and neck. “Isn’t it…oh, God, that feels so good…isn’t it something like baseball?”

  “Yes,” he murmured. “It is something like baseball. But not quite.”

  He rubbed his cock in the crease of her buttocks. Gripping the top of her bra, he pushed it down. He grasped her bare breasts and rolled her tightening nipples between his fingers.

  “Oh, yes, yes. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

  Sanjay took off her blouse and threw it on the floor. He unhooked her bra and tossed that on the floor also. He turned her around, leaned over, and wrapped his mouth around one of her breasts. Sucking hard at her nipple, he lapped it steadily with his tongue.

  Lord, but his mouth was so hot and wet, his tongue so long and agile, and he was sucking at her breasts as skillfully as he had played with them.

  He unzipped her skirt, pushing it down her hips. He grabbed her buttocks and squeezed them as he continued to suck hungrily at her breast. Emma stepped away from her skirt and moved back toward the bed.

  Sanjay followed, his lips still sucking at her nipple. When Emma felt the back of the bed bump her thighs, she gently pushed him away. He looked at her, his eyes hot.

  “Don’t forget about cricket,” she said.

  He grinned. “I’ve already forgotten.”

  Damn him! “This meeting tomorrow with Harjit
is very important to my career.”

  Sanjay grabbed her buttocks and caressed them while he nuzzled the side of her neck. “But can you not, at least for tonight, forget about your career?”

  Forget about her career? Was he crazy?

  But as he continued to caress and kiss her, Emma’s skin grew hot and her body tight. He nibbled at the tender skin along her neck, and his fingers stroked the dampness of her panties. If he kept doing what he was doing, she might very well do as he suggested. She moaned, grinding herself along his chest, groin, and thighs.

  Sanjay eased her panties down and guided her to the bed. He moved his body over hers and eagerly caressed her naked body.

  All Emma wanted was for him to fuck her, but she had not been joking about his teaching her about cricket. In her mind, her whole future as an agent hinged on whether she was successful in getting Harjit to sign with the agency.

  “Sanjay.”

  “Hmmm?” His face was burrowed between her breasts, his fingers pulling steadily at her stiff nipples.

  “Tell me more about cricket.”

  Sanjay lifted his head and grinned at her. “I’d much rather eat you. Your cunt smells so ripe. My mouth is tingling from wanting to lick it.”

  She’d much rather he’d eat her, too. But if his mouth was full of her pussy, he’d be unable to talk, and if he wasn’t able to talk, he couldn’t tell her about cricket.

  “How about I go down on you first?”

  His eyes lit up. “You are a very generous woman.”

  Emma raised a finger. “But while I’m doing that, you’ll have to tell me about cricket.”

  “You expect me to talk about cricket while you are sucking my cock?”

  She looked up at him from under her lashes. “Consider it a challenge.”