Chapter 7
The black girl, naked down to the soft golden slippers on her feet, walked back and forth in front of the Italian sitting in a leather-covered lounge chair.
At the moment Frank Kazarra paid no mind to the black beauty who paraded her flesh so proudly. He had one hand on his cock as it bulged beneath his slacks and with the other he was signing two rent receipts which lay on the end table beside the chair.
He dropped the pen as his eyes returned to the smooth velvet flesh of the black doll. "Nigger-baby," he said, smiling, "you've got what it takes-and it's all where it counts."
Hips swaying, breasts swinging, the girl walked slowly to the table and picked up the receipts. She carried them to an antique desk and placed them in a drawer. She turned and relaxed so her rounded buttocks were resting against the edge of the desk.
"Well, master?" Phyllis Reger said.
"Come here, Niggerbaby," Frank said. "I don't like to be kept waiting when this rod is ready for action."
The girl smiled but didn't move. "There's time, lover. Lots of time."
The Italian looked down at the hand that was squeezing the bulge. "Niggerbaby-you're fooling with an H-bomb!"
"Really, Frank?"
"Damn right!" Frank said. "This little bomb is going to blow your insides apart."
"What's the rush, lover?" Phyllis Reger was teasing. "Are you going someplace?"
"Right into your black cunt, baby-deep, deep, deep in it so you'll taste my juice in your mouth."
"I want you hard, Frank. Hard, hard, and harder!"
Frank unzipped his fly and brought his cock into the open. It was a whopper-all of nine inches from head to balls.
Frank held onto his prick and said, "How's this, Niggerbaby?"
"Hard, Frank. I want it as hard as a cop's club." Phyllis moved slowly toward him. "That's what I call hard."
"Get me a glass of wine, Phyllis," Frank said, "and I'll suck your tits. That will make it as hard as a brick."
Phyllis Reger lived in Apartment 2-C. Two receipts she had placed in the desk drawer were for the apartment and the store she rented on the ground floor. She didn't fuck for the free rents; they were monthly presents from the owner of the building.
When she returned from the bar, Phyllis put the two wineglasses on the end table. Frank reached out to grab her, but she backed off. "Have a drink, Frank," she said.
"You black bitch-you're giving me the works again!" Frank picked up a glass and swallowed some red wine.
"What's the hurry, lover?" Phyllis raised her arms so her fine breasts rose to a tantalizing position. "Let's enjoy ourselves."
"Don't we always?" Frank asked.
Phyllis laughed. "With a prick like that, how could we do otherwise?"
Phyllis and Frank had many things in common. Both had come up from what is called the wrong side of the tracks, Phyllis had been born in Harlem and had suffered every vestige of hate that abounds in the white world for a black person.
Frank had been born in 1925 on the same day Wyoming got a woman for governor. His father and grandfather had been hod carriers and neither had placed his family on a level of living that could be called middle-class.
With Phyllis, strict attention to her schoolwork had taken her to Barnard where she had to struggle to graduate. From college she went to Macy's where she became a highly regarded buyer of women's fashions.
Frank followed in his father's footsteps-but only for a while. He entered the Army and found many avenues of learning open to him. He had a knack for construction work and on parting from the Army he attended evening classes in a nearby community college.
At last the days of living frugally came to an end for Phyllis. She left the big city for more pleasant living in upper New York State. She put her savings in a swank boutique which she established in Frank Kazarra's building.
Frank was not afraid of taking chances. He married a rich woman who had money to invest-and Frank did that for her. However, he was shrewd and honest with the money he borrowed from his wife and his building was a testament to his skillful operations and her finances.
It was Frank who, after several months of seeing Phyllis, had suggested the prick and cunt combination that led to the free rent treaty. Why not? Phyllis was twenty-three years younger than Frank. Where else could he get a clean black girl whose skin was soft as velvet? And where could Phyllis get a white prick as large as the kind so erroneously attributed to all black men?
For Phyllis, taking Frank's cock was no big deal. She had had big pricks in her cunt since she attended high school; and one in college had been all of twelve inches long! She had taken that one down to its balls, and in return it had shoved her womb out of place-had in fact tipped it so fortunately that she couldn't become pregnant.
"Look, Frank, my tits are ready," Phyllis said.
And they were indeed. The nipples were dark red and large. Now they protruded outward, erect and ready for some wine bathing and mouth sucking.
"Bring them here, Niggerbaby," Frank said.
Phyllis mounted the lounge chair with Frank's hips between her knees. She dipped two fingers in the full wineglass and wiped them over the nipple of her left breast. She bent forward to push the nipple into Frank's greedy mouth.
"Suck that black tit, Frank, lover," Phyllis said.
Frank sucked on the nipple and then licked the flesh around it. "More," he said.
Phyllis dipped her fingers in the wine and smeared them across the nipple on her right breast. While Frank sucked, she reached down and began to finger the stiff rod that was near her cunt.
Frank had been sucking as contentedly as a baby before Phyllis began fingering his cock. He continued to suck on the nipple. As his prick responded to the black fingers stroking it, he murmured: "No finger-fucking, Niggerbaby."
"Niggerbaby wants to be fucked, lover," Phyllis said.
Frank pushed the nipple away. "Let's fuck now then," he said.
"Oh no we don't, lover!" Phyllis dipped her fingers in the wine and bathed her left nipple again. She pushed it into Frank's mouth and said: "You always suck just like an expert, Frank, so suck some more."
Frank gathered Phyllis's right breast in his large hand and squeezed it as he sucked on the other. He was a nipple sucker-a real titman who enjoyed this kind of "petting" before tackling the real thing.
"My baby is coming out, lover," Phyllis said, "so keep on that black tit." She began fingering the stiff cock again.
With the nipple in his mouth, Frank said words that were almost unintelligible. "Don't do that or you'll have me squirting my juice before I cock you!"
Phyllis again let go of the rod and drank some wine from the glass she had dipped her fingers into. She replaced the glass on the table and pulled her tit from Frank's mouth. "Put your arms around me, lover," she said.
When Frank's arms were around her waist Phyllis bent backward. She reached for the wineglass and quickly put it against her right breast. Frank watched until the glass stood bottom up on the black tit. He pulled the black body toward him and licked the trickle of wine that escaped.
Phyllis bent forward, removed the glass, and pushed the nipple in Frank's mouth. "Suck it, lover, you're making me feel so nice!"
Frank sucked the splendid-size nipple and licked the wine-wet flesh around it. "I can't take any more, Niggerbaby," he said. "I want to fuck!"
"Okay, loverboy," Phyllis said as she got off the chair. "Look me over and then we'll fuck."
And she had something to "look over"! Her voluptuous favors swung gently as she moved away from the lounge chair. Her small waist emphasized her buttocks which were handsome globes of black flesh. With meat on her thighs and shape on her calf's, her legs were comparable to those of any well-stacked white woman.
Phyllis turned slowly and moved that way toward Frank. She was a pretty girl with Nordic features rather than the Afro look of large nose and thick lips. In fact, if her flesh had been light instead of dark, she could have passed as a well-tanned beach beauty.