Politics. Escorts. Blackmail. by Pynk Page B

She’s going to sneak out of bed to get dicked down and then slip back into bed before her man wakes up, huh?” She sipped hazelnut coffee from her ceramic cup and crossed her healthy legs. She wore white silk pajamas, and her jet black hair was draped along her wide shoulders.
    “I don’t ask. All I know is, it’ll be quick.”
    “Okay.” She nodded. “You’re not having breakfast this morning?” She smiled.
    “Nope. Plus you know I don’t eat swine.”
    “There’s oatmeal in there. I could make you a smoothie if you want.”
    “I’ll grab some juice at the gym. I’ve gotta catch this Insanity class. It starts in ten minutes.”
    “Okay.” She watched him switch his bag to his other shoulder and asked, “Will I see you later on?”
    “Maybe so. You don’t have anything going on yourself, hey?”
    “No. Not today. I might get away for the weekend with Ryan, though.”
    “I see” was all he said.
    “Yes, that’s what I might do.” She bounced her leg and looked at him.
    He shrugged. “Okay.”
    “So, don’t you even want to know where?”
    “Nope.”
    “You know, it would be nice if you’d ask every now and then, Kemba. At least act like you care.” She took another sip. Her happy level decreased.
    “I do care. I know who Ryan is. You’re safe. I know what he does for you. I know you’re going away. No secrets. Done deal.”
    “Yep. Done deal.” She nodded and gave him a sarcastic wink.
    He smiled. “Good. You have a good day, now.”
    “You too.”
    “Love you.”
    “Love you, too.” Her words were weak and she gave her focus to her phone.
    Kemba placed his hand on the vanilla skin of Beryl’s arm as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips.
    She puckered and acted lazy until his lips met hers. He gave her a smack and her eyes showed she could possibly warm up. She placed her hand between his legs, taking hold of his heavy penis beneath his sweatsuit. He was at half attention.
    Kemba was very large, just the way Beryl liked her men. She claimed she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t a donkey dick that required a double-extra large-sized condom. She liked the Mandingo type, and she had one in Kemba.
    He grinned as he moved her hand.
    She told him, “It’s okay. I’ll get mine later. Maybe I’ll stop by after your class and pick you up so we can go have a healthy lunch somewhere. What about the Uptown Juice Bar? Then we can come back here and relax before your appointment with Ms. Sneaky-Ass Wife.”
    “That’s fine. Give me a couple of hours.”
    “Okay. Call me when you’re just about done and I’ll swing by.”
    “Done deal.”
    With a Roman nose, and skin as dark as Wesley Snipes’s, Kemba stood in his black and white Nikes, wearing a black bandana over his head. His dreads hung down his wide back.
    He took a step toward the door, then looked back toward her again, giving her a look as though he was thinking twice. “Naw. You’ll get yours now.”
    Her eyes smiled.
    He headed back her way and she instantly opened her robe, showing that she was braless, wearing only white panties.
    Kemba put his bag down and gripped her breasts with his large, dark hands, brought his chiseled face to her cleavage, then squeezed them together. She gave a look of approval and placed her hands along the side of his face. He put his mouth to her left nipple and spread his generous lips around it, meeting the tawny peak with his long tongue, licking her as her tip hardened against his lips. He kissed her nipple like it was her clit, and began sucking it, flicking it, in and out of his mouth while massaging her right breast. He brought both breasts together and aligned both nipples, placing his mouth on the right nipple, then the left, the right, then the left, back and forth quickly. He began sucking the right one, when she said, “You are so damn hot.”
    Beryl rubbed her waxed pussy beneath the lace fabric of her underwear.
    Kemba sucked harder and nursed on her breast, suckling it as