Shanice Wilson, born and raised in Harlem, moves to Atlanta for her new job. The company sets her up in a lovely cul-de-sac in an almost deserted part of the suburbs.
Nate Dylan is the president of the Dead-Eye Angels MC. He rides with his buddies...
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After checking up on the businesses, me and a few boys go to our garage to hang out. Besides having everything to build a custom bike, our shop is right across Antony's Dine & Go. The food is hot, fresh and fast, and the portions are for real men.
"Yo, Anthony. How's it going? Get us our usual," I say to Anthony, the owner and cook. We sit in a booth next to the window.
"Hey, Nate, guys. I'm already working on your orders," Anthony answers back.
Ten minutes later, a pretty blonde thing brings us our orders. The waitress winks at me, and I return it with a slow panty melting smile - hook, line, and sinker. We eat our lunch of burgers, steaks, fries, and beers.
Afterward, I go to the bathroom to wash my hands. When I'm about to leave, the same blonde waitress comes in. I know what she wants, to ride my cock. And I'm ready to give it to her, hard.
"Hi, are you leaving already?" the girl asks me.
"Yeah, unless you make it worth my while."
She smiles at me, and the next thing, she lunges at me, her red-tainted lips land on my neck. I grab her behind the neck and smash my lips onto hers. She's hot as hell, cute little ass, and large breasts - probably not real. But who cares.
I grab her ass and give her a hard spank. Lucky for me, she's wearing a skirt - easy access. Her tiny hands grab my belt, loosen it, and then unbutton my jeans. My cock springs out. I turn her around and bend her over the bathroom counter.
I slide my hand up her thigh and under her skirt. My finger slips under her panties. The blond's pink womanly center pulsates and tingles with every thrust of my thick fingers. The sensation sends shivers down her spine from the joy that I'm gonna give her. I stare at her through the mirror as her muff not only swallows one but all four of my fingers.
"Yes!" she cries out, happier that her pussy got the honor to touch my digits.
My dick stands at full attention, ready to thrust between her creamy hips. But I remember when I had the clap. Never again raw dogging it, even if it feels much better without a rubber - I take the condom that's in my back pocket. The girl sees me in the mirror.
"I'm on the pill."
"But are you clean?" Disgust washes over her face.
"That's so rude. What do you think I am, a whore!?" she declares, her mouth thinning with rage.
"It's you that's offering, sweetheart, not me!" I tell her. I never had the need to chase after pussy, and I'm not starting now.
"I don't care. I'm not dirty." The muscles around her mouth pinch to restrain the obvious tongue-lashing she wants to dish out.
"It's either with a rubber or nothing at all." I will not budge, no matter how much she glares at me.
"Don't you wanna know what I feel like? Cause I sure do."
