Still smiling, she put the roll-on down and looked at herself in the mirror, completely nude except for her birthday gift – the belly chain. She needed her glasses, or contacts to get rid of the slight blur, but she thought she did not look quite so dishevelled as she did before she entered the shower. She cupped one of her breasts and ran one hand over her bush. In fact, she thought she looked sexy. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at her ass. She was no longer quite so sure what she did not like about it any more, even the size. The new chain on her waist slanting down to her hips made her ass look sexy, she thought. And certainly Deji’s constant squeezing and caressing of it at every opportunity had made her come to appreciate it more.
She giggled and turned around, thoughts going to clothes as she decided to join Deji in the kitchen. Not only was the smell wafting into the room from the kitchen exceedingly good even for her empty stomach, she could do with a drink. But she simply could not walk in naked – his kitchen had wide windows and faced another apartment building on the other side of the street. Her clothes were all still in the living room – her panties hopefully with Deji somewhere. She felt herself flush as she remembered that she had removed her skirt even before she was at his door – just so she could mount him that much sooner. She heard music coming in from the kitchen too as she went to his wardrobe. She found a soft black long sleeved shirt and slipped it over her head, folding the sleeves and opening two more buttons from the top to show just a hint of cleavage. It fell almost to her knees but she still felt exposed so she pulled out his underwear drawer and took out a matching dark blue pair of boxer shorts. She stepped into it and pulled it up her legs. It was a tight fit – her ass was a few sizes too large – and it rode very low on her hips, but it would do.
Satisfied, she walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She had to pass through the living room, which also had wide windows and as she entered it, she saw her clothes in a pile on the couch, her purse on top of them. Tired of the blurring in her vision, Samira stopped, opened her purse and picked out her glasses case. She opened it, took out and placed her glasses on her nose before she continued on to the kitchen.
Samira’s first sight of Deji was him scooping out something from a frying pan into a bowl, his back to her as he stood over the large gas cooker. There was also the pleasant smell of baking bread in the air. For a moment, that strange rush of affection flooded into her again and she stood for a moment, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, just looking at him. He was back in his sleeveless T-shirt, but he was wearing pyjama bottoms and he was barefooted on the kitchen floor tiles. She remembered Bianca saying that he did not look her type and she had to admit that Bianca was right; Deji was muscular, but he was too thick and cuddly to be her type, especially since she liked the leaner, taller and more muscular specimen of the male species. But then, why was her pussy stirring to life, a flood of warmth nestling between her legs at the mere sight of him?
She swallowed and stepped into the kitchen.
“Hey Birthday Girl.” Deji said, not turning round as he put the pan back on the burner.
“How did you know I was here?” Samira asked, surprised.
“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” He turned around then, holding the bowl now full of a creamy greenish substance and dotted with dark wizened brown pellets – raisins. He raised his eyebrows, amused to see her in his shirt. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.” she said, lowering her eyes, for some reason shy as heat flooded her cheeks. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“Sure.” He said, gesturing with his eyes and a jerk of the head. “Fridge. Got orange, pineapple, apple, grape and passion fruit. And, oh yeah, water.” He carried the bowl to the kitchen counter where a tray was resting on the other side away from a laptop with a music application on and attached to a small but obviously powerful shiny metallic loudspeaker. “Glasses are over there by the microwave.”
Samira nodded with a smile and went over to open the fridge. A moment later she was standing beside him and looking at the tray, a glass of passion fruit juice in her hand. There was a part of butter on a dish and an identical dish with cheese together with a small and full jam jar. A small basket lay empty in the middle of the tray and beside it was the bowl of the green stuff with raisins. Now she noticed that there were also slices of green and red paprika in it and the thick curled shape of prawns.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the bowl.
“Ever heard of Coronation Chicken?” It was something she had enjoyed as a student in the UK.
“Well, I added prawns, chilli, paprika and one or two secret herbs and spices and voila; Coronation … Chawn, I guess.”
“Chawn?” she raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“Chicken and prawn?”
“You’re hopeless!” she laughed.
“That’s just bad! Stop it!”
“Oh well, I don’t do names.” He grinned and dipped a finger into the green ‘Chawn’ and held it up to her mouth. “But it goes great with a bread roll. Try it.”
Samira looked at him and took the finger into her mouth, sucking gently on it. The stuff did taste wonderful and she twirled her tongue around his finger to get it all. Her naughty side suddenly rose to the surface, she found, standing in the middle of his kitchen with his finger in her mouth remarkably erotic, and she raised heated eyes at him as she suggestively sucked his finger deeper. Apparently, so did Deji and he wrapped his arm around her waist as she put her glass of juice down on the marble top of the counter and melted into his arms. She sucked a little harder, more emphatically, before she released his finger from her mouth and lifted her head up to him. She smoothly opened her mouth for his kiss and she moaned against his mouth, her nipples swelling and hardening under her borrowed shirt as she pressed herself against him.
“Good morning Mr. Adeosun.” she breathed when the kiss broke.
“Good afternoon Miss Bello.” he grinned at her, teasingly.
She wrinkled her nose at him “Oh shut up.” Samira pulled his head down for another long kiss, licking at his lips before she speared her tongue into his mouth, squealing a little as he grabbed and squeezed at her ass, making her feel his already rapidly growing erection against her belly. Her pussy was already responding, warming up and moistening nicely in preparation.
She was breathing a bit raggedly when his mouth and hers parted.
“I was thinking about how I was going to wake you up and give you a shower after breakfast.” Deji said.
Samira’s breath caught. Deji’s ‘showers’ usually involved lots of breast stroking, carefully positioned shower heads, nipple sucking, clit teasing, kisses, licks and often just plain fucking under the streaming jets of water. She often ended up doing a lot of dick sucking, and body licking too, always curious to see if she really could wash a man clean with her just her boobs and soap. Which of course meant that they had to clean up another mess before they could come out of the shower. Samira’s pussy was beginning to flood with cum in earnest. “I already had a shower …”
“Really?” Deji said, a look of mock disappointment coming on to his face. Then he grinned, the predatory gleam back in his eyes as he turned them both, placing her back against the kitchen counter. “Well, I think I need to inspect and see if you’ve done a good job.” He moved away from her and undid a button of the shirt before she could say a word.
Samira’s mouth opened to say something, a flush of mortification heating her cheeks as she realized that she was being undressed in the possible full view of the apartments on the other side of the street. True enough, the slit vertical blinds were half closed but someone in the right position could, with a little effort, see everything. “Deji …!” she said, voice strangely faint, “Someone might see us!” The buttons at her lower abdomen were already open by that time and one of her boobs had fallen out of the shirt. Even stranger than her voice leaving her was the fact that she made no effort to halt the progress of his hands. Stranger still was that her more mortification was fading and she was actually getting more and more excited.
“Shhh …” he said with the familiar note of command in his voice as he opened the last button and the shirt fell completely open, exposing her boxers clad form under the shirt. He grinned wickedly as he kissed her hard on the lips, making her let out a mewling noise before he clutched the waistband of the boxer shorts with one hand and drew them down over her ass, taking them half-way south to her knees.
Samira stiffened in his arms and tried to push away from him. “Deji, stop! Stop … uhn … oh fuck … uhn ..!” She went weak as his hand moved and his finger dipped into her wetness. She went even weaker as he kissed her again, moving his finger around, whimpering her delight against his licking tongue on her mouth, all thoughts of being seen driven to the side.
His mouth left hers and she found herself looking up into hungry eyes, squirming a little at the finger still inside her pussy. “Do you still want me to stop?”
She blinked and looked towards the window. “Someone might …”
“I don’t care about that.” He interrupted, his voice guttural. “Do you want me to stop?”
She suddenly realized that she was a great deal more excited at possibly being seen than embarassed. It was just like in the dark street outside the club – anybody could have seen them. Her naughty side was giddy with approval and she felt her flush fade away. She put one hand behind his neck and drew his head down until his lips were only a bare space away from hers. “No … do what you want.”
As they kissed again, she felt Deji’s finger leave her pussy and both his hands move to grab hold of her bare ass. He heaved upward and suddenly her derriere was resting on the marble top of the counter, her head bending automatically down to his so the kiss continued despite the change in their relative positions. When the kiss broke, she only stared at him, lips parted and breasts heaving as he drew the boxers the rest of the way down her legs and practically threw them out the kitchen door. Samira paid no attention to that; she leaned back and spread her legs as he moved between them and held her waist, bending his head down to a nipple and taking all of it into his mouth. Samira jerked, throwing her head back and crying out. He took his time as always, paying masterful attention to her soft flesh with his lips and tongue and biting lightly at the swollen hard nipple. Samira spasmed at that, biting her lip with a sharp intake of breath.
Her inner thighs were already coated with lubrication by the time he started on the other breast, making her shudder violently as he trailed his tongue around the erect brown tip.
Suddenly, a sharp ‘ping!’ sounded – the oven bell. Deji froze and to her surprised disappointment he abruptly straightened and captured her lips with his. Samira nonethless kissed him back hungrily, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck and holding the back of his head with her hands, pressing her bared breasts against him, telling him he was not finished.
“I have to get the bread out of the oven.” Deji said when he broke the kiss.
“No …” she whimpered, holding him tight and making it impossible for him to move without carrying her along with him. ” … fuck me …”
“Oh, I ‘am’ going to fuck you, Miss Bello.” he growled, making her shiver in excitement and delight as those words from his mouth always did. He put a hand between her legs, over her pussy, and began to stroke her softly, looking into her eyes. “I’m planning on fucking you all day.”
Samira nodded, eyes wide behind her glasses and staring at him, thoroughly aroused and wanting him beyond what she was certain were sane limits.
He kissed her again. “So we have time, Miss Bello. All the time in the world for me to fuck you over and over again. Okay?”
She nodded again, eyes still locked on him as she quivered at the fingers spreading her open and touching her. He liked playing with her pussy even though he knew very well what it did to her, asking her to wait even as he deliberately made it more and more impossible for her to do so. Her pussy was on fire and it was already beginning to clench in anticipation of his cock sliding its way into her depths. Her eyes fixed hungrily on the tent his dick made of the front of his pyjamas and she squirmed on the kitchen top.
Samira struggled to tamp down her need to something manageable for the moment, counselling herself that anticipation was fifty percent of the pleasure. It was hard. Very hard. She actually felt faint. “Okay.” she leaned forward and kissed him softly, not entirely sure she was being truthful. “But the clock is ticking, mister man.” Her smile was weak, but still full of promise as her arms let go of his neck and she let them drop to her sides.
Deji smiled and kissed her lips before he took his hand away from her soaking pussy and stepped back from her. And as she watched him, still trembling and breathing hard with barely banked desire, he picked up the basket from the breakfast tray beside her and turned and went over to the stove to open the oven door. The smell of baking bread filled the air of the kitchen even more as he went to one knee and drew out the oven tray. On it were both bread rolls and bagels dotted around each other – the type that were bought from the bakery, half-baked and only needed to spend some time in the oven to get fully done. Using a set of tongs, Deji loaded up the basket and then stood up to turn and carry the basket back to the breakfast tray.
“No.” he said, his tone commanding, making her fingers freeze as she started doing up the third button of the shirt over her breasts. He came up and dropped the bread basket unto the breakfast tray by her side before he pulled her hands away and undid the buttons himself, looking into her eyes and opening the shirt around her breasts. He cupped one heavy breast tenderly in his hand. “No.” he said again. “You’re so beautiful … and I don’t care if anybody is watching. You shouldn’t either.” His hand left her breast as he stroked down her belly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Samira trembled in response, mouth dry, her pussy clenching and flooded with cum, wanting him so badly she was ready to start pleading. His hand travelled back up her belly to cup her other breast as she quivered under his caress, feeling thoroughly beautiful and desired like a woman should be by the man she had so totally given her body to. He may not be her ‘type’, but somehow, he seemed to know exactly how to turn her on to a fever pitch.
“Yes ...” she sighed, eyes fluttering closed behind her glasses as he stroked down to her belly again, going on to stroke her hip and back up to her breasts. “Oh! … how do you …? … that feels so amazing …!” It was a caress that he had discovered very early on in their ‘arrangement’ that drove her wild. Right then, she was prepared to spread her legs for him even if the windows were completely wide open and the whole world could see her getting screwed to senselessness. However, she controlled herself, forcing herself not to leap on top of him and take him inside her. But the more he continued to touch her, the more her resolve cracked.
He bent forward and softly kissed her forehead and then dropped a quick and hungry kiss on her lips before he left her again. She opened her eyes to see him striding to the coffee maker on the counter by the sink.
“Tea or coffee?” he asked casually.
She licked her lips, needing a long moment to come down from the aroused high he had just taken her to and recompose herself. “Tea.” She took a deep breath, looking down at herself; the shirt fully open around her nude form as she sat on the kitchen top, legs wide apart and dangling. She made no further attempt to button up, the neighbours be damned.
“I’ll have coffee, I think.” he said, spooning a few teaspoons of coffee beans into the compartment on top of the coffee-maker. He started it and then moved swiftly to fill the electric kettle with water from the dispenser before he plugged it in beside the coffee maker and switched it on. Samira watched him, amused and somewhat impressed at how comfortable he seemed to be in the kitchen. She had never seen him at work in the kitchen before even though she had eaten at his place quite a number of times. Usually he ordered or microwaved something from the fridge.
To be truthful, she mused, she had seen him at ‘work’ in this kitchen before … though she had been what he had been ‘working’ on. She had woken up in the middle of the night – the evening had been eventful – to get a drink, Deji had found her with a glass of juice in her hand, passion fruit, which was appropriate, as she soon found herself with one leg hitched up over his arm and the other hanging down to the floor, her weight supported on her two hands behind her on the counter as he held her up by the waist and fucked her passionately and hard to a loud orgasm and then came all over her breasts. That was when he got his own drink and they chatted for a while as she cleaned herself up with some kitchen paper towels and her hand and mouth. Fifteen minutes later, she was bent over the counter as he pistoned into her pussy from behind, long and steady strokes that drew two orgasms out of her before they went on back to bed. She had gone to sleep lying half on his chest, breasts crushed against him with a contented smile on her face.
Samira tried to block out her memories of that night as she felt her resolve to hold on melting even more. Being practically nude around him made it much more difficult than it would have been. Fortunately, the music changed to a song she really liked on the laptop, distracting her and she turned her head and looked at it as it sat open on the other side of the counter. Samira whistled quietly in appreciation. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before; with a dark gray and silver metallic casing that made her immediately certain that this laptop was not in the general market. She folded her legs up under her on the marble and spun around to face it, fixing her glasses more firmly on her nose, as she leaned forward to look more closely at the wide plasma screen. The operating system looked different from what she was used to but it seemed similar enough and intuitive, and the music program was self-explanatory. His desktop background was a 3D rendered starship in space. The legend softly flashing below read ‘There Are No Limits.’ She wrinkled her nose, smiling bemusedly; very very nerdy. Still smiling, she placed her finger on the touch pad and decided to explore and see what type of programs he had, getting excited when she came across the industry standard 3D modelling application, something she was very familiar with in her work.
“This thing is fantastic!” Samira exclaimed when the laptop rendered and displayed a sample creation that came included with the installation. It should have taken three minutes instead of forty-five seconds. “I want one of these! Where did you get it from?”
“Actually, we made it.” he said, coming to stand beside her, looking at what she was doing as she stared at the computer, enraptured.
She turned sharply to look at him. “Really?”
“Yep.” He looked proud and animated as he launched into a description of the machine in front of them. “It’s running on two parallel multithreaded VLIW processors, 6 gigabytes of RAM, 2 gigabyte video and sound cards, 2 terabyte hard drive ...”
****To Be Continued****