Diary of DeeDee Walker: The bbq pt1

You know what? I don’t even know where to start with this story. Part of me just wants to jump into the end and tell you about the good parts but I need to give you background. I need to tell you about Mr Ezra Morris. Ezra’s story is so good I have to break it down into two parts.
I meet Ezra at a friend’s bbq – it sounds bad but I can’t remember which friend; I just remember him coming into my life and the subsequent and wondrous sex that followed.

The bbq was your typical ‘starts at 3pm’ but nobody turns up until after 6-7pm with the majority of people rocking up after 10pm. I admit it, I formed part of the later group. It was one of those rare extra UK hot summer days – and believe me they are rare. It was the kind where everyone seems to either go crazy and walk round half naked or just decides to roam around on road just so they can soak up as much sun as possible – most people end up doing both. For me, I had the obligatory Saturday morning house chores to do. You know the ones; the kind you don’t have time to do in the week or just can’t be arsed to do when you get home from work.

Anyway, I spent the day doing my thing, hook up with Isis and head over to the bbq. As it was hot we both decided to wear our maxi summer dresses – and yes, of course we didn’t wear any underwear; it’s become standard procedure when wearing such clothing. We got the bbq and made are way to the garden.

That’s her name! Patricia, Patricia Olufemi – she’d kill me for forgetting her name lol.
Patricia introduced us to a couple of people which I really didn’t and couldn’t remember. That was until she introduced us to Ezra. Trust me, my man was all the bbq I needed – he was a feast and a half
He was wearing a vest top and linen trousers. The top just framed his arms beautifully – the were solid, bold and defined. He had that new bread trend going on which lots of guys are rocking but it seemed like it was something he’d been rocking for years. His lips, his lips … he had the lips that make you simply imagine, the kind that when he’s talking you’re just watching his mouth and imagining. His lips made you want to say ‘you’ve got nice lips’ but want you really want to say ‘can you please put them on my nukki, please, really please!!’. He’s vest was fitted but not tight and you could see the subtle and suggestive imprint of his abs. Now, I need to catch a moment as I describe the trousers…
Ladies, you know we all do it when we see a guy approaching us – you sneak a sly look to see if he’s got that dick print/outline in his trousers. Well, with Ezra there was no need to sneak a quick look, the sumting was embossed! I don’t know if there is a male version for camel toe print out but he had it.
Wait … I need to catch my breath again.
..

….
Ok. I’m good now!
It wasn’t just long it was Thick with a capital ‘T’! it hung proudly to the right and was bold in its presence. My nukki didn’t get wet, it was dribbling. It was such a good thing I had on that maxi dress ‘cause I could feel her trickling down my inner thigh.
He had this thunderous deep voice that was husky too. When he spoke its was like when you’re in rave next to the bass speaker and it vibrates your entire body. My nib was reverberating from his every word. Hopefully you get the picture of what this man was doing to my nukki without him even realising it. I kindda forgot that Isis was standing next to me as Patricia introduced us and did the ‘joining the dots of things in common’. When I did remember her I looked at her and realised it wasn’t just me suffering from this man’s effects. Isis and I had been friends for over 5 years and I could always tell when she was looking, horny or just got some. The look on her face was all three. She was certainly looking piece of Ezra, she was horny as I was and I could see from her eyes she was & had fucked him several times in her mind. Lmao … the two of us must have look like some dick hungry, nukki in need, ready to strike, famine stricken, ravenous beasts.

Ezra was either use to women reacting to him in the way we did or simply playing cool as he didn’t seem fazed by us at all. I don’t remember it at the time but later during our rapport Ezra said that I was licking and biting my bottom lip. He said that was what made him take an ‘interest’ me in. AS the evening progressed, got later and more drink was consumed Ezra and I somehow ended up talking in the hall way while everyone seemed to be outside or in the kitchen. We were both propped up sideways against the wall and looking directly at each other. I have to say that I could have raped him there and then – in fact in my mind I already was! We were so close, practically touching. It’s like I could feel the heat radiating from his body or maybe it was the heat emitting from my nukki, either way there was physical actually heat being generated.

I don’t know if it was alcohol, the horniness or both but Ezra asked if we could find somewhere quite to ‘talk’. He didn’t have to ask me twice and before I knew it we were walking upstairs and into the bathroom. Please, don’t ask me why or how we chose the bathroom. I guess part of the reason was I wasn’t going to disrespect Patricia’s house and get my freak on in her bed. Ezra and I weren’t even fully through the door before we were all over each other. He’s hands grabbed my behind, squeezed and pulled me onto his hardness. Between his linen trousers and my maxi dress there wasn’t a lot of material between us and I could feel everything. It was like autopilot the way my fingers found him and cupped it in my hand. It wasn’t just hard it was strong. You hear the ‘it was hard like steel’ but never believe it. Well, Ezra embodied that saying; it was like it was made from the same metal that Wolverine has … what’s it called? Adamantium – it felt indestructible. I could feel my nukki just saying ‘take it, take it, take it … let me take it!!’ I was trying, fighting to maintain and not get carried away. I was tipsy already so my head was spinning but the feeling of his hardness was making me feel even more drunk. The way he kisses was like alcohol, like brandy and coke … smooth, warm, mature and powerful.

Even in my intoxicated and horny state I sensed that this encounter wasn’t the first of many. However, what Ezra did next confirmed my suspicions. Without warning he spun me around so I was facing the mirror over the skink, flung my dress up so it curtained over my ass, dropped to his knees and slipped his tongue inside me.
O
M
Gosh
It was crazy. It was like the level of intoxication doubled yet sobered me up at the same time. Ezra’s hands cupped my cheeks and spread them as he begun to suck and French kiss my nukki from behind. I wanted to release, let me moans out but couldn’t; people would hear me – even over the loud music and chatter. Ezra was a tongue Jedi, and he was certainly using the force. It was concentrated intensity and I could feel myself rise up onto my tiptoes. Nukki was spilling like an overflowing bath – water everywhere. I could hear Ezra moan and he tongue fucked my nuki with such blissful finesse I started to buck. I was bucking and shaking so much I ended up head-butting the mirror. I ended up gently tapping my forehead against the mirror to try and take the edge off the intensity of the tingles. I could feel the cold of the sink pressing against the front of my thighs, the warmth of Ezra’s tongue, the dull thud of my forehead against the mirror. I wanted to cum but didn’t want to cum as I knew it would be intense. I was gritting my teeth trying to hold it back – I wasn’t about to let out an give away sounds that would get us both into trouble. However … Ezra had other plans and it was like he could sense I was holding back. To this day I don’t know what he done – and he refuses to tell me – but he done something with his tongue and that was it; I came apart.

I was so sudden, so overwhelming, so powerful there wasn’t even any build warnings. I just exploded. I popped like a water balloon when it hits something – splash! My legs began to buckle and shake. I don’t know how he did it but Ezra was holding me up and still sucking on me as I orgasmed. It was messy. Juices just all over the shop, down my legs, on the floor, all over his mouth – it felt …emotional. The way I was gritting my teeth and fighting back urge to moan was almost infuriating. I was holding onto the sink so tight it felt like was going to rip it off the wall. I wanted to reach back and push Ezra off me but 1. It felt so good I didn’t want him to stop. 2. If I let go of the sink I might have fallen over. My head was pressed against the mirror, eyes clinched tight. Come to think of it I think I stopped breathing for about a min it was so intense.

Ezra eventually gave mercy on me and stopped. If you ever head the gasp of relief I expelled was serious. He got up and stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror. My juices were all over his mouth and he slowly licked his lips; the sight of that alone made me judder. He smiled and with a straight face and absoloutely no irony said
‘so … can I have your number?’
I laughed and had a mini orgasm right there.

When we eventually got back down stairs Isis looked at me and she knew. She just smiled, shook her head and said ‘bitch!’ so … how was it? The rest of the evening I didn’t drink a drop; I didn’t need to as my head (and body) was still spinning. It was around 2am when we left the bbq and Ezra gently put his hand on my waist as I left and said
‘I do believe we have some unfinished business to attend to. I’ll call you so we can make the necessary arrangements.’
Believe me I was read to make arrangements right there and then but simply smiled, felt my nuki smile to and left. We dealt with said ‘business’ several times, over several months and in several ways but that’s another story
😉

DeeDee Walker: 6th Aug – Public Display of Affection

DeeDee Walker – PDA: 29th July

I don’t know about anyone else but the topic of PDA (public displays of affection) is, when you’re with a FB, a no-no. In fact being seen together generally is a no-no; it’s strictly late nights and behind closed downs. However … there was this one guy – Bola Isaiah Green or as I called him Mr BIG (and not just because of his initials) that I more often than not broke this rule. He was half Jamaica, half Nigerian. I know, I know … a combination of two of the fieriest, argumentative, overly confident, boastful and horniest people on the planet. Bola was a temp at my work place and from day one my man was on my case. He wasn’t crass or crude with his approach, just relentless – a trait of both Jamaican and Nigerian men. I do have to hand it to him; he was a gentleman … a horny beast but a gentleman. Every Monday I’d be my coffee and doughnut – if I’ve got the Monday blues I’d need the caffeine and sugar rush to kick start my day. Anyway, Bola must have picked up on this and all of a sudden I’d come into the office and he’d have coffee and doughnuts waiting for me. I knew what he wanted; he knew that I knew what he wanted. I’d be blatant with him and tell him he doesn’t get any brownie points but he still continued to supply my Monday fix. He did become my Monday pusher man giving me my Monday morning drugs, it was sweet I have to say. He’d invite me out for lunch, after work drinks, dinner, movies, theatre the works. Now don’t get me wrong its not that I wasn’t interested, I was. Bola was about 5’9, dressed slick, kissable lips, cheeky smile and had a tick chest – he was most fuckable indeed. Maybe it was the JA/9ja blend but he was funny, confident, charming and sexy. However, 1.we worked together – which in the DeeDee Walker book of rules is in the top 10 of no-nos. 2. He was blatant with his approach and everyone in the office was watching us and this little ‘office chase, come romance’. I wasn’t about to be the topic of conversation in the staff room or at the water fountain. Different time, different place I would have fucked him til I moaned like a bitch. His compliments made me laugh … and sometimes wet. Point in case when he said.
‘DeeDee Walker, you look so good today I’d turn down mummy’s Sunday dinner just to feast on you.’ Continue reading

Eva Okah’s story: submission pt3

It was 10:30 in the evening and Eva was working on her talk show. She was playing over her conversation with Bookie.
‘You’re fucking lying!? You serious? But you don’t know what he looks like; you don’t know who he is.’ Bookie blurted down the phone.
‘I know, I know! But it’s just so fucking sexy. It’s crazy I know but he just makes my pussy so wet; it’s not normal but so natural.’ Eva replied.
Bookie was silent for a moment and Eva could hear her brain ticking over down the phone line.
‘Well, you and I are the same so if true be told I’m fucking jealous; you need to find me one of my own. Having someone control me like that is making my pussy get wet just at the thought.’ Bookie said breaking the silence.
The two girls burst into laughter. Bookie asked Eva to make sure she filled her in on ALL the details after she met Marcus.
‘It’s been a little while since I’ve had me some outlandish fun so right now I’m living vicariously through you girlfriend.
Another eruption of laughter before the girls conversation drifted onto work, life, family and then back to Marcus. Continue reading

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Kemi’s choices pt1 – interactive erotica

It had been a long and cold winter and mood in the office for the last 5 months was depressing. Everyone was always complaining about the cold, the rain, the wind and most of all the snow. Kemi’s floor, at the head office of Price Waterhouse and Cooper, was called the chocolate floor; not through corporate racism but it was the floor with the most and best looking black men and women in the 15 floor building overlooking the Embankment and the River Thames.
Moses was one of the best looking men on her floor and he and Kemi had a good rapport and often flirted while at work. However, it never went beyond that and they never hooked up outside the work place. It was one of those keep it at work, make the day go faster, eye candy kind of things. That was all about to change as there was going to be an office after work get together that evening. Kemi had only been with the company 3 months and heard that the office regularly had after work drinks in one of the bars along the river. She had also heard that many a fling and office links had come out of these notorious gatherings. Kemi was hoping that tonight would be her chance to see if Moses was on it or would be forever relegated to the ‘flirt at work’ category. She, like most of the women in the office had made use of the corporate membership at Virgin Active gym and had been getting her body in shape for her summer holiday to JA and Brazil. Moses claimed to be working out too, although she had never really seen much evidence of it besides him carrying his gym back into work everyday. Moses was forever carrying his over-sized gym bag into the office throughout the winter and well into the new year. Every lunch time he’d disappear saying he was going gym. However, Kemi never saw the difference all this gym attending was doing; that was until today when the sun finally showed its face and everyone in the office was wearing less. Ladies showed up in short skirts and dresses, strappy tops with plunging necklines. The men lost the jumpers, thick coats and blazers and walk around in just shirt and trousers. Kemi could now see the results of him carrying that oversize gym bag of his into the office everyday and going to the gym. His white fitted short clung and stretched around his bulging biceps. The material was tort and tight and looked like it was about to tear to reveal a sea of chiselled muscles. It lay flat across his back, playfully hinting and the solid sculpture structure. As for the front view; Kemi got wet every time he walked past. His chest was broad, raised, and thick and flowed down into his flat rippled stomach. The highlight of the frontal view was the protuberance that leaned down his right leg; its rounded form and domed shaped tip made her tingle everytime. She instantly would imagine how it would feel inside her, imagined it filling her, sliding it into her mouth, imagined feeling his body pressed against hers as they fucked – Moses made her wet end of. No matter how engrossed she was in her work, not matter how urgent the deadline or the call or the email she was typing, she’d always be distracted by him walking passed. She would find herself pausing to drink in the vision of him. She was always discreet as to not be seen, always sly with her glances but at times the horniness took her and she was simply blatant with her ogling. Continue reading

DJ Face’s orgasmic slow jams

It had been a hectic day at work and Coco was sure glad it was Friday. The only thing that got her through the day was DJ Face playing on Flames FM from 10-1 that day. She was glad she could just plug in her headphones, log on and listen to him play her favourite tunes while she was at work. However, today was extra special beacuse he was hyped up about the Britjam reunion party happening the following day at CLUB CC2 (Colloseum Complex). She had gone to BritJam and it was truly epic; it was the highlight of holiday and raving year. Coco was hype too as 1. She was going to the rave 2. DJ Face was doing a special slow jam session later that evening to cover for another DJ on the station. Coco was a slow jam freak. She loved the baseline, the tempo but most of all the lyrics. The amount of slow jams she had she could have been a DJ herself. If there was one sure way to get her in the mood, feeling horny and wet it would be slow jams. DJ Face dropped some tunes that morning and Coco sturggle to not whine up herself in her chair or give him a ‘brap, brap’ in the middle of the office. She even struggled to not nod her head too much while she listened to the show. After DJ Face’s show finished at 1pm the rest of the day seemed to drag so Coco decided to listened to his mix CD to get her through the day. At 5 o’clock sharp Coco shut down her computer and left the office. She refused to stay late on a Friday 1. She wanted to do a bit of shopping that evening 2. It was Friday and Friday and working late don’t go together.

On the way home Coco smiled to herself as she anticipated to tunes DJ Face would be dropping later that night. As she emerged up the stairs from Brixton station she was greeted by the usual noise, sights and human traffic of Brixton high street – it was to high street that never slept (kind of like New York but it was South London). She turned left and walked towards Iceland where her incense man was every Friday. She had been buy from him for the last 4 years and stopped to chat with him before heading into the market. One of the things Coco loved about Brixton was that she could always catch a few shops open after work and could do her shopping. Shopping on Saturday morning in Brixton is long and not good for her temperament. By the time she got in it was 6:30 and Coco made dinner, called her girls to confirm details and outfits for tomorrow. She switched on her computer and logged on to Eroticnoire’s blog (www.eroticnoire.wordpress.com) for her daily fix of erotica. She finished reading the final part of ‘Coffee, Cake and Kink’. By the end of the story Coco was horny and wet. She decided it was a good time to have bath and her usual Friday night spliff to help her unwind and put calm her mind. Both the bath and spliff made Coco feel dozzy as she lounged on her sofa, so she set her alarm for 10pm so she could wake up for DJ Face’s slow jam show.

The buzzing of her phone alarm woke Coco up from a dream she was having about Femi from Eroticnoire’s story. She was wet and her nipples were hard. She couldn’t help herself so she went to her bedroom and her bedside cabinet and pulled out her rampant rabbit. She returned back into the living room, turned on her stereo and sat on the floor with her back resting against her sofa. The stereo came on and DJ Face had just started playing. She picked up her blackberry and sent him a message.
‘I’m locked in and ready for you to do me good with your slow jams – Coco’.
As soon as she sent the message DJ Face faded the song and gave her a shout out. Continue reading

Thoughts of DeeDee Walker: 28th March – R.A.T.I.D

I was randomly scrolling through facebook the other day and began to wonder about the funny the names people give themselves. It’s not just on facebook, it’s on twitter, instagram, whatsapp and most of all BBM. I began to wonder on the way people like to describe themselves and how often that name, that description doesn’t match the reality of their being. I began to wonder if some of these women have what I call Reality Adjustment Thoughts of Image Disorder. (RATID). You know the names, you know the people – ‘Summer body Stacy’, ‘Dainty Davina’, ‘Barbie Doll Shanika’, ‘Bless pussy Pamela’.
Yet, Continue reading