"Yo, Marcus!" I yelled down the corridor from my building's front entrance as my upstairs neighbour was waiting for the elevator. He waited till I got a little closer to reply.
"Hey, Daniel! What's cooking?"
"Not much." I made my way to his right and joined him in waiting for our ride.
"How's Shelley?" he asked. "If you all are gonna be goin' at it again tonight, lemme know. I'll wear earplugs," he said with a chuckle.
I nervously laughed as well, not knowing anyone could hear us from the comfort of our own apartment.
"Jeez," I tried to play it off with swagger, "I didn't take you to be such a prude, pal."
The elevator doors opened and we both hopped on. I pressed 11, Marcus 12.
"Nah, bro," he started, "I'm just yanking your chain. I guess I gotta be gentle though; it sounds like you had your chain yanked a lot last night."
"Ugh, yeah. She's wild, man."
"I could imagine. It was basically you making all the noise."
For some reason, that last comment ignited a little jealous spark inside me. There were plenty of times I had overheard Marcus giving a girl his special treatment. Often they were left gasping like it was all they could muster in response to what must've been a healthy dose of pleasure. Our bedrooms were directly in line with each other's.
Shelley was a different kind of girl though. She was quiet in bed, which is what I told Marcus in rebuttal. That's just who she is. Despite this, she jovially attested to my sexual prowess time and time again. The quieter she was, the harder she came.
I always felt like a tall guy at 5'11", but whenever I had to talk to Marcus, he knocked my ego down a few pegs, no pun intended. I had to look up to make eye contact. For anyone who doesn't have the benefit of my height to know, that doesn't happen often. I asked him once how tall he was and he said he was 6'5". I never forgot that response. For some reason, it engrained itself in my brain. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bring on some stupid bout of jealousy every time I talked to him. Simply standing in front of him seriously reinforced the difference. Don't ask me why; guys are dumb. It's like how we get jealous over dick size even though everyone knows it doesn't matter. If lesbians can cum with *no* dick, then size definitely isn't a factor for female pleasure! Knowing this is what always steadied my emotions when I thought about how my dick is slightly—just slightly—below the average.
I won't lie, the height difference between us wasn't the only thing that got me a little insecure from time to time. I know this will sound a little fucked, but bear with me...
I'm white, Marcus is black. I know that shouldn't matter. I'm not racist at all! In fact, I've never bonded with anyone as well as I have with him. I'm all for equal rights and I love how nowadays people are coming together to push for more inclusivity. There's just maybe one tiny downside to it; with more praise shown to black people, they are being viewed in a progressively more attractive light. As if black individuals are better sexual partners, hotter, and more masculine. I may be white, but I'm still pretty masculine myself.
I know Shelley loves me, and so did my last girlfriend, which is why it didn't make sense for me to feel this way. That—as irrational as it may be—is what I focused on every time I needed to calm myself down from having doubts about my relationship or myself as a mate.
Just as the elevator stopped at my floor, Marcus reconfirmed something that we talked about a couple days ago.
"So you two will come up to get that table on Tuesday, right?"
"Yup! As long as it's still good for you. We said 2:00, yeah?"
The elevator opened and I stepped out, still looking back awaiting his reply.
"Uh-huh, that works for me. And hey, just feel free to come in, bro. You know me—I love company. We can even have a beer or something."
"Sounds good! See you, Marcus."
"Later."
As I entered my unit, I found my beautiful girlfriend sprawled out on the living room couch. She wasn't just laying down—she was fucking masturbating!
Her hand was working underneath the hem of her pink, lacy panties.
"Fuck yes, babe," I exclaimed as soon as I put my bags down.
"Oh God," she said in a breathless huff. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"And? I'm your boyfriend, remember? Here's some wild information for you: guys actually don't mind walking in on their girlfriends near-naked, going at it like a horny rabbit."
"Stop," she said, obviously embarrassed. Though not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing her pussy.
I watched in wonderment as she began to moan a little louder. She refocused herself as if I wasn't even there.
I knew those noises. She was always more vocal when she played with herself. That's just the way she is. Specifically, I knew she was getting close.
Still standing by the door, I kicked off my shoes and took off my hoodie. I quickly shuffled over to her and knelt down by her legs. My tongue was ready to pounce; it had decided to join in.
"No!" she exclaimed, actually removing her fingers from her slit to conceal her cunt. "I'm so close. I wanna do it myself."
I won't lie—I was frustrated as hell. But I played the good boyfriend and gave a nod and a smile and backed away. I sat on the floor and leaned back, holding myself up with my elbows locked. The show was almost as good as being in the shot anyways. Almost.
I watched on as she made herself cum in less than a minute.
Her eyes were closed as she relished in the come-down. I looked on in awe of her beauty. Once she finally opened her eyes, she laughed seeing that I still had my gaze fixed upon her. I joined in the chuckle.
"What got you so worked up? It's been a while since I found you like that."
"I don't know," she admitted, still breathless. "I must be ovulating or something."
That night, we had the hottest sex I can recall having. She was quiet as usual, but I was convinced by the way her pussy was squeezing against my cock that she had in as much heaven as I was. It had been a long time since I came that hard. I filled the condom right up.
We cuddled each other snuggly and fell asleep in each other's arms.
The next morning was Monday. A start to another brutal week. I was off to work and Shelley was off to school. I was a couple years older than her, and I had already graduated. Working as an intern as a law firm was about as unfulfilling as it sounds, but it was a sacrificial stepping stone I needed to use in order to steer my career in the right direction. Shelley was in her final year.
Our Mondays were each busy as hell. It was our Tuesdays that were a lot lighter, part of the reason why I settled on that day with Marcus to come pick up this coffee table he was getting rid of from his apartment.
Shelley and I were taking our redecorating seriously, finally realizing the importance of making our house a home. I think we had both previously viewed our abode as some temporary stop along the way, but with career opportunities in the local area, we each came to the conclusion that where we were offered the most convenient setup to where we needed to be at the most economical price. Time to get the fold-up chairs and paper plates out and bring in the permanent living solutions!
Don't get me wrong—we still needed to budget. This was part of the reason why we weren't splurging at the local luxury furniture store and instead opted for the third-party market. We lucked out that one of the key pieces we needed could be found right in the apartment above us. Small talk had finally proven to be useful. Had I never befriended Marcus, I never would've mentioned our need for a table, and he never would've offered up his. Everything really does happen for a reason.
Tuesday rolled around and I was able to take the afternoon off. Shelley only has classes in the morning on Tuesdays. So this was the perfect day to complete some of our errands.
We met back home at 1:30, had lunch, and then walked up the stairs to Marcus' unit when the clock hit 2:00.
I followed his instructions and opened his front door to let ourselves in. What greeted us was Marcus and some women, stark naked, fucking on top of the coffee table we were here to pick up. She was fully on the solid surface, hands and knees pressed into the wood, while Marcus' wood was plowing her from behind as he stood alongside her in his dimly lit living room. His blinds were closed, keeping the daylight out. You could hardly make out Marcus' dark figure standing there.
"Oh my God, Marcus! What the fuck, dude!"
"Oh jeez, sorry bud. But what the hell are you doing here?" he shouted. I couldn't believe it, he was still fucking this girl doggy style as he talked to us. He wasn't even letting up. If anything, he was pounding her harder. He had been covering her mouth with his huge palm the whole time, her screams muffled by his black skin.
"What do you mean 'what are we doing here?'" I yelled back. "We're here to pick up that table"— I pointed at it, though it could've easily been mistaken for me pointing at the coupling display before us—"which you told us to come get."
"Bro...it's...Tuesday." He punctuated each word with a subtle grunt as he thrusted his visibly large, black cock into this slut. A slut who, by the way, wouldn't stop moaning now that her lungs had an avenue to let out their wails. For a split second, I got distracted from our conversation listening to her expressions of pure ecstasy. Despite the fact that Shelley was quiet in bed and the fact that I loved her, I couldn't help but wish in this moment that she could sometimes be a little more enthusiastic, kind of like this girl. It was really hot.
Focus, I told myself.
"Yes exactly, Marcus. It's Tuesday. You told us to come on Tuesday."
"Bro—ooh, that's right, baby, arch that back for daddy—I said Thursday! Get...the fuck...out!"
I quickly obliged his request, leaving Shelley and I in the hallway behind the closed door.
The moans were barely drowned out by the slab of hinged wood.
I looked over at Shelley. She looked stunned. Her cheeks were rosy and quickly reddened deeper. I felt so bad; she was one to be easily embarrassed and this had to rank high on the list.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie. I must've misheard him. I could've sworn he said Tuesday. I was telling him how it was the best day for us."
Her chest was practically heaving.
"Let's go back downstairs," I continued. "You look like you could lay down."
We walked down a flight of stairs and re-entered our unit. The next few minutes were filled with this awkward silence as we were forced to listen to what could only be a series of intense orgasms for that girl upstairs. She was louder than I'd ever heard one of Marcus' girls. That's the thing that hit home.
I'd be lying if I hadn't let myself wonder what Shelley would sound like moaning that loudly; if I hadn't let myself wish that she got that loud now and again. But I know that's just not who she is.
Shelley had gone and sat on the couch, looking aimlessly forward. I remained behind our kitchen island in case she happened to look over at me—I needed to hide my boner. No, the bulge wasn't huge, but she'd been with me long enough to know what me turned on looked like in a pair of jeans. Plus, she had license to stare and examine. Others might not notice simply for the fact that it isn't noticeable on quick glance.
The moans were somehow getting louder. I felt I pulse in my dick. All that could be made out were the moans, save for the unmistakable—though muffled—drawn-out groaning of Marcus' name.
I almost couldn't believe how hard this chick was cumming. Maybe it was an act? But for who, us?
The worst part about it is that she looked so similar to my Shelley. From the seconds-long, first-person glimpse into Marcus' sex life, I could tell how this girl mirrored Shelley. They both had long brunette hair, a petite frame, and supple pale skin. The only two differences were that Shelley was maybe a couple inches shorter at 5'3" and she wore glasses. I guess this girl might wear glasses too and took them off for sex. There just wasn't enough time to make all these observations.
Finally, the sex had stopped. We heard them laughing a little. After about ten minutes, I heard more footsteps, and then the door closed. She must've left because I didn't hear any more voices after that.
I let my hard-on subside before walking down the hall to my home office. I was gonna try and distract myself with work. Before she disappeared from my view, I saw that Shelley still wasn't moving. She was on the couch, staring into oblivion. I knew it would be best to just let her shake this whole thing off on her own and never talk about it again.
From my office, I heard what I thought was a light tap on the door. I guess Shelley had quietly walked over and opened it. I barely heard any voices, which made me suspicious.
I walked out and realized why—she had gone out to talk to whoever it was in the hallway, leaving the door open just a crack. I was curious as hell, so I gently tip-toed over until I could make out the words being said. It was another woman.
"Like I said, I'm really sorry. I've never been so embarrassed in my life."
"Oh, don't even worry about it," Shelley advised.
"No, no. I feel so stupid," this other woman said with a chuckle. "The most humiliating part now that I think back is that I didn't stop him when you guys walked in on us."
"I'm so sorry we did."
"It was an honest mistake it seems. You have nothing to be sorry about. I do. I really should have told him to stop. You know how it is though, sometimes that's easier said than done."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he was, you know, getting me there. Like, really close."
"You were gonna cum from his dick?"
"What? You mean at that very moment? Yeah."
"No," immediately followed from Shelley. "I mean at all."
"What do you mean?" she snickered. "Of course I was!"
"Oh. Wow. I've just never experienced that."
It was true. I knew a lot of girls had trouble reaching climax from penetration, Shelley was one of them. I felt kinda bad until I realized it had nothing to do with me.
"Are you and your...boyfriend?...exclusive?"
"Yes, why."
"Too bad. You should have a go at Marcus. You'll cum from that dick," she said, laughing.
I couldn't believe how brazen some people were. It was irritating as hell. Especially since what she was saying was not only presumptuous, but also irrelevant to Shelley.
"I don't think that would matter."
I was so proud of her. It made me smile.
"I've never came from penis-in-vagina," Shelly continued.
"How many guys have you been with?"
"Just two. Daniel and one boyfriend I had in first year."
"Just something to think about."
Again, I couldn't believe this bitch.
I walked back to my office before Shelley could realize that I had emerged to eavesdrop on their conversation.
The events that transpired through a wrench in our plans. So much for a productive afternoon. Neither one of us even mentioned going out for the rest of the day. Furniture was the last thing on either of our minds. We barely said two words to each other all night. The TV was our only buffer. I don't even think she looked me in the eyes once. Her cheeks looked flushed for the entirety of that evening.
Wednesday was my day to work from home. We often rotated our schedules between us interns.
I was up making coffee before staring my day, when I heard Shelley rustle around in our bedroom. I was expecting her to remain sleeping for at least another hour since her classes only begin mid-morning on Wednesdays. However, after just a few more minutes, she emerged from down the hall and made an announcement.
"I'm gonna head out to the gym, baby." She walked over in her tight leggings and leaned forward to kiss me goodbye. Her boobs were squeezed by her less-than-spacious tank top in this position, giving me a kick-ass view just before her lips met mine. I closed my eyes and sunk into the kiss. I love her so much.
"Will you come back before your classes?" I asked once she eventually forced us to pry our lips from each other.
"No, I'm gonna shower at the gym and head straight from there."
"You want any coffee before you—"
"No, I'm fine."
"Alright. Bye, baby."
"Bye."
Until the moment she closed the door to leave, I watched the most erotic view known to man. How could I not check out that spectacular ass? Best part, it belonged to me. To spank, to bite, to watch walk out the door. God, I got hard just in those few seconds.
As you know, my dick certainly isn't big enough to bulge through my pants, but I did feel it straining against the fabric of my undies, nonetheless.
After a few minutes of sitting and watching TV and drinking my coffee before work, I mindlessly began rubbing my dick through my jeans. I was just too fucking horny from watching my girlfriend and her workout gear giving me a private show. I was getting hornier by the second.
All of a sudden, I heard footsteps above me. I think Marcus was welcoming a guest. Fuck. Could it be the same girl as yesterday?! That would just be too damn good to be true.
I listened. The excitement of being a voyeur—an auditory voyeur, if one can be—was something I'd never felt before yesterday. It was flooding back into my system as I heard the footsteps disappear to the back of the apartment. Horny couldn't begin to describe how I felt. My dick was rock solid.
Trance-like, I stood up and followed the sound. I found myself in our bedroom, listening once again to laughter from upstairs. I couldn't believe my good fortune. Marcus was gonna fuck this chick again while Shelley was out! I was free to jack off to the hottest thing I could imagine without shame or interruption. This was perfect! Work could wait a little while...
Knowing how thick Marcus' dick is and how built of a body he has made this exponentially hotter. Don't misunderstand me: I'm not gay. Not even bi. I'm just saying that he was objectively a really hot guy which probably made it ten times hotter for this chick.
They clearly weren't wasting any time as I started to hear moans from the girl. Again, it just baffled me how different women can be. Shelley was never that vocal, especially during foreplay.
After a few minutes of progressively loudening moans, I heard the girl say something which I believed to make out as, "I've never felt this before."
It was wild to believe that Marcus was topping himself from just a few days ago after the noises he made come out of her then. Unless it was a different girl. Which in some ways would be more impressive. It would show how easily transferable his prowess is from one woman to another. It was wild either way.
All of a sudden, this woman shrieked loud enough to be heard presumably even by the residents below me.
"I'm gonna cum on your whole cock! Oh YES!"
I just wish I could feel what that woman was feeling right now. She had to have just reached nirvana. There's not even a possibility that there could be something on this planet that would give her more pleasure than what she was experiencing right now.
She was crying "yes" over and over again, each one variably drawn out over a couple seconds to maybe fifteen.
And then she said it, "I...love...this...black...cock!"
I don't know what it is about these girls. If it wasn't the same one as the other day, there's no doubt this one was white too. The stories he's told me and the sessions I've overheard to corroborate them were definitive. I don't know why they loved it so much, but they loved black guys and their "black cocks."
Why not just their "cocks?" No. Almost always their "black cocks."
Whoever she was, I'd bet money that the only way she wouldn't be back for more of that was if she got hit by a lightning bolt the next time she stepped outside.