Friday, March 23, 2012

The Fairchild Chronicles: Island Release


“Destiny, hold on a sec.”

Destiny was getting ready to leave the monthly board meeting when her brother, Chance, stopped her. She had just given the quarterly numbers, and everyone had seemed happy that the merger was indeed helping to keep the finances stable. Already Montgomery Media was experiencing record high postings. Circulation was on the move and the initial backlash they thought was on the horizon had been quelled down to a couple of angry letters and phone calls thanks to the articles in both the Norfolk Reader and The Monitor.

“What’s the matter, Chance?”

“You,” he stated as he watched the last exec leave the room. “You haven’t taken any time off.”

Destiny crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her big brother. “And?”

“C’mon, Des. You need a break.”

Chance was right. She had been working herself – not to mention her staff – like crazy. Sadly, it had begun to affect her nights as well. She had received direct missives from her Toy Soldiers, begging for her to come and play. The last time she had been to the club had been on Kasim’s last night in town. He had made sure she had enough memories to last her until their next visit, but it hadn’t been enough to erase the knowledge that Mr. Drake had invaded her space and watched her play. Her puss throbbed at the memory. The man was doing things to her without any true provocation. She thought if she had dove head first into her work she could stop the rising desire for the handsome reporter. Destiny sighed acknowledging her brother.

“Ok, ok, Chance. I’ll plan a quickie trip somewhere,” she assured him before a second thought invaded her mind. “What’s prompted this?”

“What makes you–”

“Come on, Chance. I know better. Fess up.”

“It’s that expose,” Chance sighed.

“I see.” Destined understood. “Wait, what about the expose?”

“Have you not read the last two articles? Drake has refocused his piece on the management of the club. Particularly the mysterious Fairchild Lets.”

Destiny thought about the last time she had read the paper and realized her busy schedule had kept her nose out of the paper. “He mentioned Fairchild?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what you did, but he has alluded to some shady business she’s connected to; late night meetings with dignitaries, special boy toys, etc. Four guys, Destiny, really?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll handle it.” She assured Chance before he started a lecture. Chance was fine with her lifestyle as long as he didn’t have to hear about it, and Drake refocusing his expose definitely put it in her big brother’s face.

“When you get back from vacation,” he ordered.

She nodded her head, thinking. I’ll make sure it’s handled before I get back.


“He’s written quite a depiction of you, mistress,” Maggie Soon confirmed scanning the article. “He indeed mentioned your Toy Soldiers and Kasim’s visit. How did he know about his visit?”

“Probably the night of Kasim’s arrival. I had a feeling I was being watched but the tape from that night didn’t show anything. In fact, a huge segment was missing. What has Jacob said about it?” she asked as she paced her office floor.

Maggie blushed thankful her boss wasn’t there to scrutinize her. She knew she couldn’t hide anything from Fairchild. “He hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”

Fairchild knew she was pushing the line using Maggie’s blossoming relationship with her bartender to get the info, but this was war. Drake had invaded her sanctum and now she was set to defend it. His file hadn’t revealed anything useful. No gambling habit, no drug use, no gangland past. He was pretty upright on paper. She would need to get something and she’d have to use her more abnormal means to get it. “Tell Guard to get a hold of the Sith.”

Maggie grew alarmed. “Do you think it’s that serious?”

“Mr. Drake has grown too nosy and is muscling in my private business. It’s one thing to expose the staff on their terms, but he’s trying to expose me, which is not on mine. I’m sure Jacob has warned his ass of the consequences.”

“But, Mistress, the Sith?”

“He’ll get the info I need and make sure Mr. Drake stays out my business.”

“What if – I look into it?” Maggie offered.

Fairchild paused. She knew her assistant would cave with the proper motivation. “Maggie, are you willing to wreck something before it starts?”

Maggie swallowed. “As long as we can keep it in house.”

“Fine. I’ll be out of town for a few days. I want results – and answers.”

“Yes, Mistress.”               

Maggie hung up the phone nibbling on her pouty lip. She knew Jacob had spliced the tape from the security room and deleted the minutes Xavier Drake had been in Fairchild’s suite. It was a violation of club policy to tamper with the security system, but then again Jacob had helped create it. What was she going to do? With a sigh, she left the office to go find him.


Destiny dropped her phone in her purse and finished packing. She had decided to take a trip to the family beach house in Kingston, Jamaica. It was quiet, secluded, and as far as she knew, no one would be there. The private jet was already waiting for her at the airport. She was actually looking forward to this get away. When she had told her staff she was taking a quick jaunt out of town, a collective sigh had run through them, which had amused her. She would have to make arrangements with her assistant to have lunch catered while she was away.

Her thoughts went back to the dashing Xavier Drake. What had he seen that night? Something about him watching her pleasure herself sent another round of fine tingles down her body. She imagined his gorgeous hazel eyes following the motion of her hands as she squeezed and fondled her goodie bits. Had he been aroused? Had he touched himself? More importantly had he recognized her?

Destiny shook the thought as she made her way down to the waiting limo. Xavier Drake was becoming too much of a constant in her thoughts. Hopefully, this trip would alleviate his hold on her.


“What do you mean back off Fairchild?” Xavier exclaimed into his Bluetooth earpiece as he careened around a corner heading to the airport.

“Fairchild is not finding those articles too cute, Xavier,” Jacob warned cleaning a glass. “She’s on to you. She already suspects that jacked tape from the security room was my doing. She’s been on a rampage.”

“Look, I’m trying to draw her out,” Xavier assured him. “I mean she had a file on me on her nightstand. She’s digging into my background. It was only fair that I dig into hers.”

“And what have you found?”

“Not a damn thing. It’s like this woman doesn’t exist.” Xavier turned into the parking garage. “I’ve done searches all over the place and she’s a ghost.”

“I told you. Fairchild is private. She lets you know what she wants to let you know,” Jacob warned wiping down the bar. “Look Maggie just told me to warn you. She may be bringing out the heavy artillery. I may even have to cop to jacking the tape.”

“You turn snitch, Jacob?”

“No. But Fairchild respects cats who own up to a fucked up moment of non-clarity,” Jacob waved off. “Just so you know you are on your own next time. I make too much bank here for you to fuck up my money.”

“A brother understands,” Xavier said as he jumped out his car, toting his carry-on.

“How long you gonna be in Jamaica?”

“Man, I have been planning this trip for months. It’s gonna be a cool two weeks in the island sun. I finished the last piece yesterday and my editor will run the others while I’m away.”

“Oh, thanks. So, I’m gonna have to deal with Her Majesty while you’re gone?”

“Hey. Them’s the breaks,” Xavier laughed as he strutted into the airport. “Catch you when I get back.”

“Peace.”


The flight down was easygoing. No turbulence. No bad weather. Once the plane touched down, Henry was there with the limo to pick up Destiny. She never had to wait for a car when she vacationed in Kingston since Henry was always on time. She had chosen the large man for his intimidating demeanor, resourcefulness and special abilities. It also helped that he was deaf and mute. Henry had lost his hearing in a gang fight, when a rival member fired a gun too close to his ears. Having not learned his lesson, he had nearly lost his tongue when a drug dealer had come to collect his profits. Yeah, he had had it rough in the streets, until Destiny showed up looking for a driver with weight and discretion.

With his handicaps, he had had no prospects of finding any real work. Destiny hired him when her other driver had proven to be unreliable. Henry had proved himself more than reliable when Destiny introduced him into the world of Fairchild. He rooted out information whenever she needed it. He handled unsavory characters like a pro. And he turned a blind eye to Fairchild’s naughty side. For his dedication, Destiny set up a fund for his daughter and paid for her schooling in one of the more prestigious preps on the island, for which Henry was grateful for.

As Destiny approached the car, Henry began a series of signs, which she immediately responded to in kind. They had set up their own method of communication, certain hand signals only the two of them knew. Henry also learned how to read lips, which came in handy when Destiny needed it. The two hugged happily.

Is everything set? She asked as he took her bags and placed them in the trunk.

Your invitation to the White Party was received and RSVP’d. The party starts at 8pm. Henry replied.

“Excellent,” she said as she waved him on.

Henry paused for a moment, then signed, Are we here as Ms. Montgomery or Ms. Lets? He waved his hand in front of his face to describe her alter ego, which always made her smile.

Widening her wicked smirk, she replied, A little of both.


Xavier was chilling beachside checking out the “scenery” on the sand. Barely clad woman sauntered passed his towel with friendly smiles and secret invitations. Oh, yeah, this was going to be a helluva vacation. His hotel suite was off the chain. All-inclusive. No families. No bratty teens. He was trying to get naughty and didn’t want to refrain himself because someone’s child was in the next room. His boy, Carlton, had hooked him up with an invite to an exclusive, private party at the home of his playboy cousin. From what Carlton said, the White Party was the hot bed of unbridled passions and even hotter honeys. Thankfully, Xavier had packed a white suit for just this purpose – and his condoms.


The evening air brought a balmy breeze over the island, setting the relaxing tone for the night. Destiny patiently waited for Henry to open the limo door. She was painted the very picture of neo-sexy as she rocked a long, flowy, backless jumpsuit in the pre-requisite white the party called for. She paired the look with light gold sandals, bangles, and chain-link earrings. Her exposed skin was immaculate in its brownness, shining like silk hot chocolate. Her hair was bound back in a side bun adorn with simple white flowers, showing off her gorgeous face.

She knew she looked good. She was sure that Fenton would definitely approve.

Fenton Loch, the party host, was a good friend of hers – and Fairchild’s. He was part of an elite group of people who knew about her dual-identity. That was because Fenton was just as crafty as she was – and had his own alter ego to hide.

Henry opened the door and lent his hand to Destiny, who graciously accepted it. Before she mounted the stairs, she gave Henry his instructions.

I’ll text you. Make sure everything is set for tomorrow night. Enjoy the night.

Be safe. Don’t let Fairchild get you in trouble. He teased as he rounded the vehicle.

Destiny smiled after the driver before mounting the steps to Fenton’s mansion.


Inside the mansion, the music was bumping and the crowd was already gyrating. Despite the heat outside, there was cool air inside, keeping the sweat down to a minimum. Xavier was chilling by the bar with Carlton and the party’s host. They were checking out the situation on the dance floor. Women of all shades, shapes and swag were kicking it live. It was like an old school Puffy video. The ratio of men to women was like one to three. Xavier liked those odds. However, he was hard pressed to make a decision on whom to approach. They all looked good.

“Fenton, this party is off the chain,” Carlton boasted in his thick Jamaica accent as he sipped his Cognac. “Where you find dem girls?”

Fenton laughed, replying in an exaggerated accent. “You know how me do, cuz’n.”

“I got to say, Fenton, this is a nice crop you got going here,” Xavier admired.

“These are just the hood rats, my friend. Look around the perimeter and you will see nothing but the classier set.”

Xavier scanned the outer rim of the room and noted the beauties standing about talking with their friends or in deep discussion with other men. Fenton was right. The caliber was definitely higher, which made choosing a honey to pursue that much harder. Suddenly, his eyes were diverted to the entrance. Standing there, looking like the queen at court, was none other than Ms. Destiny Montgomery. She looked stunning in her all white. Fellas were already peeping the new prey. He was no better. As his eyes roamed over her body, a distinct pressure pulled in his midsection. It was intense. He should be feeling more concern that the CFO of the newspaper he worked for was at the same party as him – in Jamaica.

“Ah, and there she is,” Fenton sighed indicating Destiny, who waved at him from the other side of the room.

“You know Ms. Montgomery?” Xavier asked, realizing too late how dumb his question sounded. Of course he knew her, if she was in his house.

“Destiny and I go way back. How do you know her?” Fenton eyed the reporter pointedly, waiting for his answer.

“She’s CFO of Montgomery Media. She did the financial restructure and merger of the newspapers I work for,” Xavier explained. His eyes came back to Destiny as she made her way through the crowd.

The throng of dancers seemed to part for her, giving her more than enough room to maneuver to the bar. She hadn’t noticed him yet. It had been a long while since their last interview. She had sent him a nice note congratulating him on the piece. Her flowery perfume had accompanied the missive, which sat pinned on his board. He would pull it down every once and a while to sniff it. There were many days he wanted to call her to ask her out, but he’d remember her professionalism and knew it wouldn’t fly.

Destiny waded through the crowd, mouthing a hello to acquaintances as she moved along. Her eyes met Fenton’s and smiled seductively then she noticed his companions, one in particular. Surprise registered immediately then mild annoyance. A frown drew over her brows as she stood before the awaiting men.

“Mr. Drake.”

“Ms. Montgomery.” Xavier greeted raising his glass.

An awkward silence fell among the group, while the two stared at each, sizing up the situation. Fenton quickly noted the heat transferring between them. He recognized the admiration Xavier had bestowed on Destiny. The man seemed twisted. Most men were when it came to her. She was every man’s fantasy; beautiful, smart, witty. Destiny was the complete package – and her naughty alter-ego was even better. Clearing his throat, Fenton eased the tension by drawing Destiny’s attention to him. Taking her hand, he kissed it respectfully.

“Beautiful as always, my dear. How was the flight?”

Destiny offered Fenton a gracious smile that hit Xavier to the core. “The flight was great. No troubles.”

“Are you thirsty?” Fenton asked, his eyes roaming her body.

Quickly catching his drift, she deepened her smile. “For one of those cool rum punches? You bet.”

Fenton motioned the bartender to bring the libation. Destiny’s eyes turned back to Xavier. The earlier fire was now banked away. She couldn’t understand why she had broken her reserve. The moment she had seen him standing there looking sexy as all hell, all the anger and annoyance his articles had invoked had converged. She had to hold her hand back from slapping him. Then, oddly, she’d felt the heat in her middle when she remembered his invasion of her suite, his watching her pleasure herself.

“What a coincidence?” Xavier stated.

“Yes. How do you know Fenton?” she asked taking a sip of the punch.

“We met just tonight. My friend, Carlton, is his cousin,” he explained, tapping his boy on the shoulder. “Carlton, meet Ms. Destiny Montgomery.”

“A pleasure,” Carlton greeted kissing her hand as Fenton had done.

Destiny laughed. “You definitely are Fenton’s family.”

“Except I’m prettier than that fool,” Carlton teased gaining Fenton’s ire.

But Fenton’s annoyance was short-lived as he leaned into Destiny, whispering intimately into her ear, causing her to smile. Xavier observed the exchange. He watched as Fenton slipped an arm around Destiny’s waist, pulling her closer. They must know each other real well for him to demonstrate such possession. But something about it Xavier didn’t like. He felt like snatching that hand off her and leading her out. But he didn’t want to cause a scene, especially with one of the higher ups. Xavier tried to sooth his growing possessiveness by dousing it with Cognac.

She looked so beautiful tonight. Far from the stuffy CFO he had interviewed weeks ago. He knew that suit was hiding something, but he never imagined it was this. He cleared his throat to get their attention; actually, Destiny’s. “Have you kept up with the expose?”

“I’ve been busy, but my assistant has kept me up. I heard that you have refocused the story.” Destiny tried to keep the edge out of her tone.

“Yes. I thought I should dig into the management of the club. I mean that scene wouldn’t be accessible if they hadn’t made it so.”

“From what my assistant said, you went hard on the club’s owner, what’s her name?”

“Fairchild Lets. Well, she’s a bit of a mystery. However, my sources say she can get anything on anyone.”

Fenton’s ears perked up. That was the bee in her bonnet, he surmised. The reporter was digging into her world and he knew how much she hated that. He moved his fingers lightly over her ribcage to ease Destiny’s tension. He leaned in again to whisper. “He’s sparked you, hasn’t he?”

Destiny bristled, ignoring the comment. “From what Kimmy says, you make her sound like a mobster.”

“Well, that I don’t know, but she shrouds herself in mystery and keeps only a few choice individuals in her circle. If someone new comes in, she does an intense back check.”

“Does that make her a bad person to make sure she’s surrounded by good people?”

“She’s a club owner, not the financier of a major company.”

Fenton choked on his drink. He felt Destiny tense. “Ah, Fairchild–“ he bit down on his mistake “– I mean, Destiny. Why don’t we go dance? Talk shop with Mr. Drake later.”

Destiny glared at Fenton for his slip.

“Fenton, trust me Ms. Montgomery is no Fairchild Lets.”

She turned her eyes on him, furrowing her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Xavier was thrown by the heat coming his way. “You’re far too classy to be put in the same category as Fairchild.”

“Now I’m intrigued, Drake. Why is Fairchild not classy?”

“Well, she has to have some serious issues if she feels the need to control everything around her, and that whole Dominatrix thing. Don’t get me started.”

“Would it be different if she was a man?” Destiny pressed.

“I don’t follow.”

“If Fairchild was a man and did all these things, would you have a problem with his dealings?”

“I’d think there would be something wrong with the brother if he was sporting leather pants and a whip.” Xavier laughed.

“From what I understand, bondage isn’t always about whips and chains. You even made that reference in your article. It is about control, but it is a mutual give and take between a Dom and his or her Sub. And what if Fairchild isn’t a dominatrix?”

Xavier snorted. “Oh, trust me, she fits the mold of a dom. Right down to her cavalcade of studs.”

“That smacks of jealousy, Drake.” Destiny observed. “Do you have a problem with her multiple partners?”

“I just think there is something unclassy about a woman who flaunts her business out on front-street like that.”

“You mean there’s something wrong with a woman being sexually aware of herself and putting it to practice. Just like a man to be a hypocrite.” Tired of the conversation, Destiny turned, dragging Fenton with her.

Xavier watched her escape baffled by their exchanged. You’d think I was talking about her.


Destiny dragged Fenton away from the party to his private den. She needed to cool down like yesterday. Drake had really riled her up. Her heart was beating like a race horse. Her palms sweated. Her breathing was ragged.  And, strangely, she was aroused by it. She could feel the pool between her legs; smell the essence in her nose. He was questioning her, something none of her Toy Soldiers did, except maybe X. But even he knew his place. Drake was proving to be quite the rebel. She would love to get five minutes with him to break him. She’d have to contemplate that when she got back to Norfolk. His file was clean, but he was opposed to her lifestyle – more like Fairchild’s. But he had watched her that night. Was he a voyeur?

“He’s under your skin, my dear.” Fenton observed, breaking into her thoughts. He poured a glass of Hennessey and passed it to her, then poured one for himself.

“Can you believe the nerve of him?” She fumed gulping the hot liquid.

“He doesn’t understand people like you and me.” Fenton ran a hand down her arm. “He doesn’t understand the passions and pleasures that can be had in our world.”

Destiny began to relax feeling the warmth of Fenton’s hands. Her eyes shifted toward him, perusing him from head to toe. “Will you show me how much you understand?”

“What is your wish, mistress?”

“Tonight, I wish to relinquish control.”

“To prove a point?” Fenton smiled. Destiny nodded, before casting her eyes down meekly. “As you wish.”

“Thank you… Master.”

“Remove your clothes.” His usually jovially tone hardened to one of authority.

Destiny shed her wrappings quickly. The anticipation of what he would do was heightening her senses. Fenton was very good at playing the dominator. They would often switch roles whenever the mood would take them. He was the only one she allowed such liberties. Fenton pulled off the long white silk scarf from his neck.

“Turn around.” The faint hint of his Jamaican accent mixed with the hard edge made her nipples coil. He placed the scarf over her eyes and tied it firmly behind her head. “What is our safe word?”

“Undone.”

Fenton slapped her ass soundly. “Good gal.”

He led her over to the couch. “Now, undress me – with your mouth.”

“But, Master, my lipstick will ruin – “ before her protest could leave her lips, he slapped her ass again. “Yes, Master.” The sting tingled her backside, rippling to other parts of her body. She couldn’t believe how sensitive she was tonight. It was Xavier’s fault, she reasoned.

She began to work the buttons of his shirt. One by one, she plucked them from their holes, exposing the dark skin beneath. Fenton was a specimen of fine flesh. Taut muscles layered in the richest ebony skin this side of perfection. He worked out religiously to maintain his body. She remembered how it felt to slap her palms against the rock he called an ass. It barely flinched. She pulled his suit jacket over his shoulders, then the shirt.

“The pants.” He ordered, sipping his Henney.

Destiny knelt down before him. Her teeth tugged on the leather belt, which proved difficult. Determined, she tugged hard and was able to dislodge it from its buckle. Her hands skimmed over his thighs, then reached up to caress his ample aforementioned ass. Fenton slapped them away.

“No hands.” He scolded. He watched her intently. Her red lipstick had left its imprint all over his shirt, jacket and now his pants. The stains were worth the view of his little slave undressing him with nothing more than her teeth. He had been looking forward to playing slave for her, but after seeing the ire Xavier Drake had brought her, he knew she needed this more.

Destiny pulled his pants down his legs. He had neglected to put on any briefs, which made her task easier. Fenton stepped out of his shoes and allowed the pants to pool on the floor. As she knelt before him, she could feel the heat of his dick close to her cheeks and the scent of his spice filling her nose. Her mouth began to water hungrily. Fenton shifted away. She sensed him walking behind her.

“On all fours.”

Destiny didn’t hesitate to follow the command. Her palms flattened against the plush carpet while her derriere created an elegant S-curve to her body. Fenton stood behind her admiring the view of her ass, exposing the slit of pink. Closing the space between them, Fenton knelt beside her, his hand running over the curvature of her frame. His large palm rested on the fullness of her booty, massaging the taut muscle there. He watched as she licked her lips thirstily.

“Have we been a bad girl?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, of course. Smack!

“Have we been a bad girl?” he repeated, stroking the spot.

“Yes.” She whispered.

Smack! Smack! “That was for the lie and the bad behavior.”

Destiny arched her back deeper into the sting. She loved a good spanking. Now, she wasn’t about the chains, but once in a while she liked to get tied up in silk. How would Mr. Drake feel seeing her this way? Not as Fairchild but the stuffy Destiny. Would he get hard? Would he join in? Ugh, don’t let him get in your head, she scolded. Fenton’s hand traveled the canyon of her booty to the slick ravine of her puss. She heard his groan. Fenton was always turned on by a good pooling.

“Bring your head here,” he instructed. Destiny shifted to face his body. His scent had deepened and the heat was scorching now. “Put him in your mouth.”

Destiny sighed. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could’ve maintained without sucking his dick. She quickly drew in his member, tasting the richness there. Her mouth immediately accommodated to Fention’s large width and long length. The tip firmly pressed against her esophagus, tickling the throat. She had a good control of her gag reflexes, but Fenton would often test it to its limit – like now. He pumped into her mouth smoothly as his fingers played over her wet folds. He was drenching his fingers with her own dew, while enjoying the feel of her mouth over his body. Then suddenly, he dipped a slick finger into her asshole, making her moan deliciously.

Now, Destiny wasn’t big into anal sex, but she didn’t mind a little finger play. She particularly didn’t mind Fenton’s slender fingers playing around there. He felt her hole constrict, trying to push him out, but he persevered, gently drawing in and out. He watched in the mirror he had set up the way her puss winked with each intake. She was flowing like a ruptured volcano. He loved seeing her head bob up and down over him.

“Oh yeah, gal. Drink me,” he encouraged. “Don’t stop now.”

His other hand drew her head closer, holding it in place as he pumped faster. He could hear the squish of saliva. Her moans grew louder, adding a vibration to the motion. At the height of the thrusts, he pulled out. Reaching for his condom, he quickly strapped up. Wiping his hand of her dew and juices, he pulled Destiny to her feet. Taking a seat in one of the side chairs, he straddled her over his lap, facing away. Destiny felt like she was floating.

“Bend forward.”

She leaned her body all the way forward until she teetered toward the ground. Fenton hoisted her round bottom up to accommodate his dick. There she hovered for several minutes feeling the throbbed of it, then, without hesitation he dropped her puss over him in a flourish and began a ruckus drilling.  After her first yelp, he ordered, “No moans.”

“But Master,” she whined against the pleasure. Smack! “Yes!”

She tried desperately to contain her pleasure, but he was making it so hard. Despite his seated position, she could feel his balls slap her clit fiercely. Several moans slipped her lips. Smack! Smack! She bit her tongue, trying to redirect the pleasure. Fenton was definitely making this worth her wile. Her body was so sensitized and her mind was so frazzled, she knew she was going to have to pay him in kind. The first pulls of an orgasm began to pluck at her puss, she couldn’t hold back any longer. Fenton leaned forward pulling her back against his chest, clutching her throat gently.

“Go on, my pet. Scream!”

Without further provoking, Destiny moaned recklessly, allowing the sound to resound about the room. His fingers diddled her clit, bringing about her second and third orgasms. Her legs shook wildly as each sensation traveled from her core to her extremities.

“Yes, Fenton! God!”

He pushed his mouth against her ear. “Suck me dry, gal.”

Again, with complete obedience, she dismounted from his lap, bent before him and took his dick into her mouth. Fenton’s head fell back in surrender as she played her magic over him. Before long, she could feel him shudder and felt the condom fill with his seed. It was another few minutes before his breathing came down to normal.

Feeling sated mentally and sexually, Destiny rose from the floor. She was back in full control again. She removed the blindfold and stared down at the man. Her demeanor had changed and Fenton recognized it immediately. In a complete turnaround, Fenton fell to the floor before her.

“Mistress, did I make you feel better?”

Fairchild touched his head, rubbing it like an owner would a pet. “Hush, my pretty toy. You did very well. Now, momma’s going to return the favor.”

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Pajama Mama


It was a shiny Saturday morning and Lonzo was lying in bed snoozing. He could hear his wife tinkering around in the kitchen. The sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of coffee filling his nostril was making it difficult to stay focused on his slumber. Glancing at the alarm clock, 7 a.m. came glaring back at him. Why was she up so fucking earlier? The kids had gone to a slumber party the night before giving the adults alone time, but after pulling a double this week, Lonzo had not been in the mood to party.

He slit his eyes open. The bedroom door was wide open giving him a perfect view of the kitchen. Connie was bouncing about to the music playing on her iPod as she scrambled the eggs in the pan. She was in her usual night uniform: a pair of faded blue, scrub pants and fitted white tank. The scrubs were so old they barely clung to her ample hips. In fact, they were being held up by the sheer roundness of her ass. Lonzo studied said ass for a moment.

He couldn’t explain it, but he was suddenly aroused. Connie was popping her derriere as she gyrated toward the fridge. Her unsupported boobs bounced haphazardly in her tank top; almost in danger of falling completely out. He almost wished they would. Her long black hair, which was coiled in a sloppy bun on her head, was a stark contrast to her pale skin as it bobbled about. Her father used to call her Snow White, much to her chagrin since all her brothers and sisters inherited his dark skin. Lonzo loved it though. Her skin was so baby soft. It felt like butter cream.

His dick began to throb something fierce now. Shit, it wasn’t like she was dressed like a hooker or a stripper. Damn, she was just in her pajamas. But she looked good anyway. Suddenly, Connie dropped it like it was hot and Lonzo almost lost his mind. Tearing off the covers, he stomped into the kitchen toward his wife.

Connie swooped around, oblivious to her husband’s intent. “Mornin’, baby. Eggs are just warming in the pan, bacon’s in the oven, and coffee is in the pot.”

Without a word, he swung her into his arms, pressing her against his frame. He only had on his boxer briefs, which was good right about now, because he didn’t have the patience to take more than that off. Connie stared awestruck into her husband’s eyes. The intensity and determination shining back at her was daunting, intoxicating.

“Baby, you ok?” Then she felt it and actually blushed. His hardness was pushing against her middle like a stick up. “Oh, it’s that kinda mornin’?”

Lonzo smirked as he leaned in to capture her mouth. His lips folded over hers hungrily, drinking in her sweet breath. He could taste the orange juice, savoring its citrusy flavor on her mouth. His tongue plunged her recesses seeking more of it. His fingers pulled the hem of her tank top over her body and head, tossing it on the kitchen floor. His eyes roamed her body admiring her hefty boobs. After three kids and two pregnancies, Connie had a right to that tiny pouch in her belly and he loved it. His mouth quickly devoured her breasts as his hands pushed the scrubs away from her hips.

Connie moaned in pleasure as her fingers explored her husband’s frame. Because of his work in construction, Lonzo’s body was always tight. She really loved his broad shoulders and pecks. They were delectable. His tongue flicked over her nipple causing a serious flood to pool in the juncture of her thighs. Lonzo suddenly flipped her toward the counter, running his tongue along her neck. His hands found her backside and began massaging it gently before pushing his dick into her soaked folds.

Connie gasped, feeling him fill her so deeply. There was something about his member that defied reasoning. Not only did it hit her every spot on the way in, but somehow it hit the right spots on the way out. She could feel his every pulse, which timed perfectly with every pump. His balls smacked firmly against her clit adding to the sensation, tightening the coil of her nipples.

“Go on, baby. Hit that,” she sighed between grunts.

Lonzo flipped her back toward him and hoisted her body on the counter. Without pause, he lifted her leg onto his shoulder and pushed his fleshy rod back into her, keeping the stroke going. Their eyes never disconnected. One hand wrapped about her leg, while the other gripped her hips. The pressure was building and he could see the change in Connie’s face. That’s when he took it up another notch. He varied the speed of his thrusts, pulling all the way out, then all the way in.

Connie’s head fell back against the cabinet, taking in the feeling, as Lonzo’s teeth grazed her neck, gently nibbling on the sensitive area. The room was spinning and Connie was in a haze of euphoria. Her body was tingling and her legs were shaking wildly as her orgasm began to rip through her. She gripped Lonzo’s shoulders tightly as he continued to pound steadily into her quivering pussy. Then she felt his hot stream fill her followed by his own final groan. His fingers dug into her fleshy hips, pulling them flush to his.

As they came down from the high, R. Kelly’s Sex in the Kitchen ironically cued up on the iPod, making them laugh. Lonzo kissed Connie’s lips as he gently rubbed her booty. “Mornin’, baby.”