nbg post pic

IT’S TIME.
     Can’t do the same thing anymore. Clandestine side-eye glances—no longer enough. Watching them walk away, eyes locked on rhythmically switching glutes—no longer enough. I want to feel the heat coming off of a woman’s skin. Bury my face in her gloriously coiled hair. No more internet searches for naked black girls. I need the Real Her. I need her right here, right now. Straddling me. Full lips sucking on my neck. Broad backside spilling over my lap. I want her. I want her so bad. I’m about to go crazy.
     About to?
     Why am I lying to myself? I am going crazy.
     My loins are on fire.
     Laptop is calling me. Already fully booted. A few tabs open…email, Facebook. It’s right in the center of the bed. Perfect location. Just gotta input those three words. Actually, just the first letter, Google will do the rest.
     No. Not anymore. Gotta grow a pair. Go get her. The Real Her. Come on Eve. Just play a little MK2 to take the edge off. Jade’s waiting.
     But the laptop is ready. I should just masturbate. Eliminate this angst. At least temporarily. Get it over with. Live to lust another day.
     No. No more of that. Time for the real thing. Gotta have the real thing.
     No willpower.
     You’re such a coward Eve.
     Yes. Yes I am.
     naked black girls it is.
     Within seconds hundreds of thumbnail pics of brown- skinned beauties decorate my screen. Who’s gonna be the lucky girl tonight?
     Scroll down.
     Scroll down.
     Wow.
     There she is.
     Double-click…
     She’s bent over, looking back at the camera. Ample everything. A well-manicured hand grips her left butt cheek. Damn. Juicy. Like she’s about to drip. Another woman’s head is in the right-hand corner, tongue sticking out, inches away from the promised land.
     I’m wet. Ridiculously. I love these women. I absolutely adore these women. Index and middle begin doing their job. I move the laptop to my chest. God I want to press my face in her pussy. I bet it tastes like sweet potatoes.
     Baked ones. Warm.
     Soft.
     Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Damn.
     Wonder if she likes pasty white girls. Probably not. Probably doesn’t like girls at all. Tired of these gay-for- pay bitches. They do the trick though. Boy, do they do the damn trick.
     Just look at her. Almond eyes. Skin like Swiss chocolate. The good shit. The stuff you gotta break a five to buy. I want her. I want all of them. Damn, why is she so wet? Wonder if it’s real wetness. Could be Vaseline. It looks real. Wonder what turned her on. Hope it’s not some guy. I’m going to pretend it’s a pasty white girl. A little geeky. Okay, a lot geeky. One who wears glasses. With big milky tits. I love my big milky tits. Thanks mom. Yeah. That’s what I’m gonna imagine. She wants my big milky tits. Yeah, she wants them. She’s gotta have them. That’s why her pussy’s so soppy.
     “I got what you want, huh? You like alla this, don’t you?”
     I imagine her confirming. She’s got a subtle New York accent. A Bronx one to be exact. Kind of high- pitched. Nasally. She wants me, but I play coy…
     “Beg for it mama. Beg me for these big milky tits.”
     This is fucking ridiculous.
     Stop it. Don’t get in the way of this. Don’t get all cerebral. Bust your nut bitch. The madness continues…
     “Oh, you wanna lick my pussy? You wanna lick this delicious pink pussy, don’t you? Open that ass for me some more baby. Open it all the way up.”
     I wait. Gotta make it realistic. She’s got quite a bit of ass. Gonna take some time.
     “There we go. That’s what I wanna see. Damn, you have a beautiful ass. I wanna destroy it.”
Destroy? Isn’t that a little much Eve?
     No. Stop interrupting me.
     “I wanna rip that ass apart. Slobber all over it. Open it wider for me baby. Use both hands.”
     I close my eyes. Her nails are digging into her cheeks. Ass wide open now. Her asshole is throbbing, pussy dripping. Gleaming. Oh my God! I can’t take it. Fingers twirlin’ like a muthafucka now.
     Oh shit.
     Here we go. This one’s gonna feel—
     “Oh shit. Oh shit. Damn. Damn. Oh shit. I wanna eat that pussy! I wanna suck on those titties. I want you. So bad. Look at that pussy!!! Oh my God!!! Oh my God!!!”
     This feels awesome! This feels so fucking awesome! There go my knees. I’m shaking.
     Here comes the wave. Yes. Yes. Yes.
     Deep exhale.
     And then…
     It’s over. Just like that.
     Here comes the sadness.
     Reality.
     Now it’s just me and her ass. Her beautiful ass of which I have no use for now. Maybe in a half-hour. I close the lid on my laptop. We’ll talk later.
     Cold water runs over my fingers. Need to get the super in here to fix this. Tired of waiting a whole two minutes for hot water. I catch my reflection. Fortunately I’ve removed my glasses. My visage is a blur now. Fortunately? Fuck that. I’m hot. I’m gorgeous.
     I put on my glasses.
     Look at those beautiful green eyes. And that thick healthy mane of wavy red hair. I’m sexy. People say I look like a young Tori Amos.
     I turn around. Place my ass on the lip of the sink. Give it a smack. It’s nice. Round. I got some shit on me. Some good shit. And I’m not pasty. Sellin’ yourself short Eve. I’m creamy. I’m a creamy, curvy, sexy bitch.
     Why are you doing this to yourself Eve?
     Nobody wants you.
     Come on self-esteem. Not now. Was just in the middle of being almost-confident. Don’t ruin this for me. Too late. Here comes the self-pity…
     Maybe I can just buy a sex doll.
     One named Shanika.
     Oh yes. Shanika. Dark as midnight. All hips, tits and lips.
     Hoop earrings. A big bushy fro that I will keep moist with copious amounts of sweet-smelling hair grease.
     Oh. And of course cocoa butter lotion. How could I forget that? All over.
     I’ll slather red lipstick on her. The brightest red I can find. We’ll have raucous love-making sessions after which my body will be covered in the stuff. I can see it now…
     “Yes Shanika. Yes Shanika. Right there. Right there. Don’t stop. DON’T STOP!!!”
     I wonder how much those things cost. Probably a few thousand dollars and I’m certain Shanika will be a custom job so throw another thousand on top of that.
     Flip the lid on the laptop. There she is again. Ms. Beautiful Ass. The two fingers begin their familiar twirl.
     Sigh.
     Same shit. Everyday.




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