Well, he was black. I’ll start with that. But not just black—jet black, dark like the night sky on a July evening when even the moon decides to hide. God, and he was smooth—how to heaven was his skin was so friggin’ smooth? Truly it is beyond my comprehension. Every part of his body was so smooth to touch, to feel, and to taste and oh—God! It’s impossible not to get wet just thinking about him again.

What a specimen of a man. What a powerful human being. What a thick, monster of a cock… oh, right, nearly forgot about that.

God… that cock.

I’m dripping wet dreaming about it still… dreaming about his thick, luscious cock sliding between my lips as I sucked on him like a giant lollipop of pure pleasure. Christ—can one man really have so many delicious parts?

Well, he did… and I played with every single one of them.

~

My name is not important. Neither is my new lover’s, although I call him Antonio. I prefer not to use real names—it simply gets in the way. Real names are for relationships, and should only become a concern when considering things like monogrammed towels, or registering for dining sets.

Antonio? A relationship? Never.

Why ruin all the fun?

Yes, I’ll admit, I liked the way his name sounded as it rolled off my tongue…

“Oh, yes, Antonio… fuck me harder Antonio! Give me all of that monster black cock Antonio!”

You agree, don’t you? It sounds perfect… Antonio, and his perfect black cock. Could a girl ask for anything more?

Well, this girl can and did. Except it wasn’t a relationship that I asked of Antonio. It was something much more difficult.

~

A girl can never be too careful around a guy like Antonio. Strong, sophisticated, and sexy as hell, I knew he would be trouble the moment he contacted me. I knew he was the kind of man who could get any girl he wanted, which is a problem for me… because those are the guys I’m attracted to the most.

A guy who can sit calmly and read the newspaper as I stroll into the room wearing nothing but a flimsy white cotton shirt and a pair of sexy cotton panties with the promise of sex practically painted on my face? Yes, that is definitely the kind of guy who will keep my attention. Antonio most definitely had mine as he sat, impervious to my advances, reading his paper and sipping his morning coffee as I approached the high-back sofa. His firm, muscled frame remained casually covered by his checkered blue Oxford shirt and a pair of boxers. I took a seat opposite him, waiting for him to notice me.

Oh, he pretended he didn’t see me,…