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Hot Chocolate















By Frank Weber

Copyright ©2024


I can still remember the feel of her lips on my neck.

 

I can still feel her skin under my fingertips.

I can still see my fingertips running across that deep, rich walnut-brown skin.

I can still smell the seductive scent of her hair, worn in jet-black, straight waves over her shoulders. And it was still so silky-soft to the touch.

 

I can still taste her kiss.

 

But those were much different days. Way back then.

I was only twenty years old and she was nineteen.

It was a different time – back in the late 80’s. So much was still taboo. But not for us.

We never gave it a second thought. I liked her and she had a thing for me, too.

That was all we thought we needed to know.

 

We both worked in the same shop, and it all started with such a childish innocence…and lust.

 

We both started flirting almost immediately. Just little jokes.

Little jokes became more like conversations.

Before I knew it, we were spending our breaks and our lunches together, off by ourselves, when no one else was around. We didn’t want anyone else around.

And then came that first delicate, wanting touch.

 

She stopped talking and just stared at me. We both watched her hand slide across the table.

She looked up into my eyes and smiled, and her fingers stretched out to touch my arm.

I could feel a tremor in her touch, but I only relaxed and let her reach farther.

Her fingers, so playfully but deliberately hesitant, wrapped around my arm.

And she waited.


I slid my fingers up over hers and held the whole of her hand under mine.

There was no doubt about my want, and that set her at ease.

 

She squeezed me every so often as we continued to talk about absolutely nothing in particular. Her eyes shined more brightly with each word.

Her lashes would bat at me at just the right times. So welcoming and warm.

And then she got quiet, but her expression never changed.

Her eyes spoke in that delicate want.

 

She giggled, “Do you like brown sugar?” and then she broke into a laugh.

But she wasn’t joking. She wanted to know.

She still wasn’t sure that I would want her.

I did.

Just as much as she wanted me. Probably more.

“I love the taste of brown sugar in my mouth.”

 

She shifted in her seat, moved a little closer to me and closed her eyes with a seductive sigh of relief.

She slowly opened them to stare directly into mine.

Her chin came forward just enough to invite our first kiss.

 

I moved closer, too, and ran my hand up her arm a little further and leaned in to meet her lips.

 

It was a magical feeling, that first kiss from Terri. I couldn’t see or feel anything other than her lips on mine, her tongue so cautiously flicking in between them until we connected in a deep and passionate kiss. Both our hands starting to wander. Blood beginning to pump and almost boil.


Thick, full lips. Delicious.

 

And then the buzzer shrieked to let us know we had to go back to work.

We still had a good four or five hours before we could see each other again, uninterrupted and by ourselves.

 

We both got up feeling frustrated and almost discouraged, but before she could disappear back to her department, I slid a folded piece of paper into her palm. I had already written my number for her, hoping that she would use it. She instantly knew what it was without looking and quickly stuffed it into her pocket. She gave me a quick – but still such a deep – kiss.

“We’ll talk after work.”

I watched her body sway with every step as she walked away.

She went back through the breakroom doors and disappeared into the shop.

 

I was already hooked.

And I wanted so much more of her.

 

I got home and no sooner sat down with a beer when my phone rang.

We talked for a couple hours and the conversation became more loose and explicit until I finally asked if she wanted to get together instead of using the phone.

She whispered, “Oh, I do, Baby. Mmmmm…yeah.”

 

I don’t remember anything at all about the ride over to her apartment, but I remember every inch of her face and body when she opened the door and invited me in.

 

She wore an oversized t-shirt and it just barely reached her thighs. Each movement she made pulled it up to let me see that it was the only thing on her body.

The shirt could barely contain her curves, those voluptuous breasts, perfectly rounded, hardened nipples. Her perfectly rounded hips and ass peaking out from under it.

 

She closed the door and locked it and almost jumped at me, wrapping her arms up around my neck, so exquisitely enveloping me into her kiss. Those succulent lips and that delicious tongue were all for me that night. And I took them with a greedy hunger, wrapping my arms around her, just above her hips, pulling her body as close to mine as I could.

She stopped and pulled back just far enough to see my face.

“Do you still wanna just taste brown sugar? Or do you want to some Hot Chocolate?”

 

I could barely speak but whispered, “Hot Chocolate”, and she continued to devour me with her lips.

 

I began to pull up on her shirt exposing more of her naked body beneath it.

She slid her hand down over my belt and onto my jeans. When she felt how hard I was in her grasp, she smiled at me, with her eyes still closed, and then dove back into kisses.

Her lips grabbed at mine. Her wet kisses slid over my cheek and eyelids.

 

I could feel the hardness of her nipples pressing against my chest.

I pulled her shirt up and off in one motion, let it fall on the floor, and pulled her back to me.

 

She clawed at my shirt and ripped the collar when she yanked it off of me.

The heat of her tongue sucked at my neck and she licked my nipples, biting into my chest. Fingernails digging into the skin over my ribs.

Her fingers scratched their way down over my stomach and onto my belt buckle.

Her lips never left my skin as my buckle was undone and my jeans were opened and pushed down to the floor.

 

I held her ass in my hands and she pressed against my cock, slowly grinding against me.

Growing harder and harder until I felt ready to explode.

 

“Mmmmmm…I loooove Hot Chocolate.”

 

“Good, Baby….cause I want some Vanilla.”

 

The nervousness was so thankfully gone from her expression and voice.

She had an air of abandoned want more than anything else.

 

She let out a girlish giggle, took my hand and led me to her bedroom.

She let go of my hand and grabbed my cock to pull me into her room.

She pushed me down on her bed.

 

“You really love Hot Chocolate?”

 

“Yes, I do. I want.”

 

“Are you hungry for it?”

 

“I am starved for it!”

 

She leaned over me and kissed me into my mouth with her tongue.

She turned and kissed, licked and sucked her way down over my chest and stomach.

She inched her legs and her body turned until she could lift her leg over my head.

 

She hovered over my face, gently rocking her body back and forth, squeezing at my thighs with each sway of her hips.

 

“Eat all you want, Baby…”

 

And she dropped and ground her engorged, dripping pussy down onto my mouth.

I sucked and licked her and I could feel her throbbing in my lips.

She rocked a little more now, guiding my tongue any way she wanted it to go.

I lapped up every bit of her, holding her hips tight in my grip.

Her moans grew louder and became peppered with gasps and cries for more.

 

I could feel my cock throbbing and pulsing, and she took me entirely into her mouth, down to the back of her throat. I can still feel her lips wrapped around me, the silky pillow of her tongue sucking me into her mouth and her fingers pulling me back out with every suck, playfully stroking me as she did.

 

Her moans were now cries for more and she was close…I could taste it in her.

I pulled at her and straightened her back over me so she sat over my whole face.

And I sucked harder and pressed harder and her rocking and swaying was now barely controllable.

 

And she came. And she came hard. And she filled my mouth.

 

Mmmmmm, yes. I do looooooove Hot Chocolate!

 

She laid across my body, resting her cheek on my stomach, still slowly stroking my cock.

 

Without any warning, she lunged down on my cock and sucked on me harder than I had ever felt.

One hand stroked the base and the other reached up under my leg and squeezed my balls every time my cock hit the back of her throat.

 

I gave myself up for her.

 

“Cum, Baby! I’m starved, too!”

 

And I came. And I came hard. And I filled her mouth.

She laid there on top of me, swallowing in gulps and licking her lips until we both laid there together motionless.

 

I pulled her back onto my face and licked and sucked her pussy more. She jumped at first but she gave in to my tongue and begin to grind down on my mouth.It didn’t take her long to cum again. And she came hard on my tongue.

 

She fell over on top of me again, breathing in deep, low breaths until her body was once again calm.

 

It seemed as though hours had passed, and honestly, I don’t know how long we laid there, holding each other, savoring each other, both of us wanting more.

 

She got up and went into the kitchen. A couple minutes later, she called to me to join her.

 

When I walked in, she was bent over the table, sticking her ass up at me, swaying back and forth.

So luscious. So inviting. So delightfully luxurious to the touch.

 

“Fuck me” was all she faintly whispered. “I want you to fuck me.”

 

I grabbed her hips and pulled her back to me as I stepped in close to her. My cock slid up between her cheeks and when I pulled back, I slid down between her thighs.

She started to rock back and forth again and I followed her motion.

My cock was pushing against her – but not yet inside – just enough to make her crazy-restless…she felt like she was going to burst.

Just a little bit inside. Not too much yet. Just the feeling of the beginning of penetration unhinged her.

 

She reached out and stretched her hands to the opposite side of the table to straighten her back, forcing me to lurch forward and push inside of her just a little bit more. She became playfully frustrated and arched her back.

 

I gave up all resistance and any sense of teasing when I was fully inside her.

 

“Fuck me! Fuck me! HARD!”

 

The kitchen was filled with her moans and cries of ecstasy…with my moans of pleasure…and the powerful scent of sex filled the air.

 

I held her firm in my hands and pushed down on her lower back, and her moans and cries turned to primal grunts and screams. My vision blurred. Sweat dripped from both of us.

 

But the motion never stopped or even slowed. Not for a single second. I rocked her body against the table and she ground her ass against my cock, forcing me in deeper.

 

She laid her cheek down on the table, still stretched out across it, and squeezed my cock inside of her.

 

“Don’t pull out, Baby…cum inside me…I want to feel your cum inside me…pleassssssse.”

 

Terri was a total and complete intoxication for me.

 

I never wanted it to end, and up to that point, I tried so hard to hold back.

But I was a kid.

I let go of every inhibition I had, and I came in her. And I came hard. Deep inside of her.

Filling her with every thrust inside. Until I was so drained and exhausted that I could barely stay on my feet.

 

“Don’t pull out yet…stay inside me a little longer.”

 

I leaned down onto her back, kissing and caressing that deep, rich walnut-brown skin.

My head was swimming with the scents of her hair and the lingering sex in the air.

We made love throughout the night and we both called in sick the next day and spent that day together, too. We never got dressed. We never did anything but each other for every minute of that blessed time together.

 

We had pizza and beers that evening, and eventually, I went back to my own apartment.

 

But like I said, sadly back then, it was a different world. Thirty-some years ago.

 

Yeah, I absolutely loved the taste of brown sugar, but not a lot of people understood it.

 

It didn’t take long for word to get around…folks do notice the subtle changes.

 

Guys joked around about getting “black pussy”…like there was something wrong with her body.

But I ignored all that…I loved her taste in my mouth.I never saw or thought of her as anything other than a gorgeous, delicious woman.

 

Her brothers were not so gracious or fun-loving. They were fuming that some “white boy” would even try to get their sister. They even tried to pick a fight.

And then her friends chimed in.

“You need to stay away from that white boy”

I was luckier in that my family never cared about any such thing.

But still the world took its toll on us.

 

And just as fast as it began, it was over.

 

Work was awkward as hell. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with me.

Soon after, she quit, and that was the last day I saw her.

We never even talked on the phone again after all of that.

 

And then one lazy winter afternoon, so many years later, as I drifted in and out of sleep, I felt playful fingers wrapping around my arm, squeezing me, and it woke me up in a jolt.

That night and day came back to me in a flood after years of trying to keep it in the past.

 

And I just sat there…remembering.

 

And then I could taste her deep, rich walnut-brown skin.

And then I could smell her hair.

 

And then I could smell the sex in the air.

 

And then I could once again taste my Hot Chocolate.




About Frank Weber:  


Frank Weber is a freelance writer from Erie, Pennsylvania. He has been published in several print and digital magazines, local interest books and advertising campaigns as both writer and model. His work encompasses a firm conviction, a simple honesty in written word and enough of a raw edge to make people feel what they read. Website: www.frankietatts.com


Twitter: @frankietatts_


Instagram: @frankietatts

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