Wednesday, March 31, 2010
“That’s beautiful,” she heard herself say.
He turned around; his brown eyes alert, open, as though realizing for the first time that he had an audience. He stood over her admiring her butterscotch skin. His strong painted hands outlined the contour of her face. Trish felt the wet paint smear on her skin. She leaned her body forward so he could reach her better. She allowed him to guide her face in both of his hands up until she was on her knees; the whole time both were maintaining eye contact. Her hands accidentally went into a puddle of blood red and brown paint. The cool liquid extinguished some of the hotness radiating off of her body but not all of the way. She wrapped her hands around his waist lifting up his wife-beater. The smell of musk and paint filled her nose as she pressed her face into his six-pack. A low growl slipped out of his mouth when Trish washed his stomach with her tongue. Her lips were so soft to him. She managed to untie the strings to his pants with her teeth. They fell right down to his ankles. Trish was pleased with what she saw in front of her. Inside of his boxer briefs his manhood snaked down the side of his leg. Her mouth began to water.
Before she could open her gift, he took a hold of her shoulder length hair and tugged her head backwards. Her bottom lip poked itself out slightly and mischief clouded her eyes. “Not yet,” he demanded. He liked to be in control. This time he got on his knees right along with her and kissed her exposed shoulder. His hand slipped under her silk shirt and gently pinched her rock hard mounds. She dug her face into his dreads to cover her moaning. He felt her whole body vibrate. The flimsy material of her top slipped off easily. Now it was his turn to smile at the work of art before him. “You are absolutely beautiful,” he whispered before taking one of her breasts into his mouth. Trish did not have time to control herself; a loud unfamiliar sound came from her mouth. The thickness of his dreads could no longer hold her screams. Back and forth he gave her breasts attention until he about burst in his briefs.
He peeled her skinny jeans off of her. Her juices blended in with the paints that she was swimming in. He continued to taste test her whole body, not leaving one part untouched by his tongue; all the while kneading his fingers into her skin giving her the massage her body needed. He tenderly kissed her inner thighs sending her legs shaking even before he kissed her sweet jewels.
“Oh my God!” she gasped. Trish looked down toward him; his handprints were literally all over her body. In between a few strands of dreads she could see him eyeing every move she made. She begged him to stop; she was afraid to let go; afraid of what her body would do. Within seconds a powerful wave of pleasure shook her whole body into convulsions. The whole room spun; all of the different shades of colors blended in with each other. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. This continued for what felt like an eternity. When she regained her strength, she managed to push him onto the floor and straddled him.
“Your turn.” Trish stripped his briefs off in one quick swift move. His chocolate manhood stood at attention, ready for her to explore. She said a little prayer before sliding down the thick pole; never has she had anything this massive before. But she happily accepted the challenge. Her walls wrapped tightly around him like a glove. She spread his chest with paint as she slowly rode him. His face showed pleasure.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want you to see me cum.” Everything in the room disappeared. She was not embarrassed anymore nor was she afraid. She had never had this kind of a connection with a man in her life; she made it her mission to please him. She craved it. Both of their bodies intertwined with each other creating a beautiful art sculpture like an original Mona Lisa painting. He grabbed a hold of her thick thighs and the rode into pure ecstasy together.
Trish lay on his chest, both trying to catch their breaths. Reality struck her. She didn’t even know this man, who was he and what was he doing in the library after closing hours? As if reading her mind he wrapped his muscular arms around her petite waist and kissed her forehead. She laid there listening to his heart beat until hers became one with his. Who gave a damn, she told herself.
Three weeks later…
Trish had not been to the library ever since her little secret rendezvous, but today she decided to come back with a group of her girlfriends to check out the art exhibit that they were hosting. The theme, depictions of black women. As she walked through the exhibit, paintings of all sorts of African-American women in different poses embraced the canvases. She took her time eyeing each piece. She could not help but look at the eyes of the women. They seemed very familiar, but she kept on looking like everyone else. The longer she walked around the more she notice strangers eyeing her. At first she brushed it off but eventually found out the reason for the stares. At the opposite end of where she stood was the largest canvas of all. She gasped as she stared up at her reflection. Every detail of her body from her face, the curve of her thick thighs and the ample roundness of her behind were looking back at her. Her eyes on the painting popped out exposing a part of her that she had been trying to hide for years as a result of all of the bad relationships she has experienced, but the way it was depicted in this painting made her rethink to reconnect with that side of her that needed to be unleashed. The memory of that day came up front and center and she smiled. Fifteen minutes later she walked out of that exhibit with the same smile concealing a secret that no one else can know about.
I thought I was the only person who does this! Now I don't want people coming to my window at night thinkin' they are about to get a peek cause it's not goin' to happen. You get a A for effort. No but seriously there is something about writing butt azz naked, plus I'm not too fond of clothes anyway. But next time you have to write something try it. Hell you and your boo could try it tonite. Spice up some thangs.
And I'm not talking about my cookies either, although I will say that, that is as fresh, and squeaky clean as, well you know. But I had to change the name of the blog because I'm a Gemini and personally, YB&W was a tad bit boring. Maybe Diamondz will attract some people.