“Yeah she is. She’s a little busy though,” Eric told me. I heard more moans and sucking sounds. Bea was doing what she did best – sucking black cock.
“Ok, fine. I’ll talk to her later then. Bye sweetie,” I hung up and called Nicky.
“Hello?” my nephew answered.
“Hi there. Is your mother busy?” I asked, wondering if Nicky was sucking cock too.
“A little, she’s putting suntan lotion on me,” Gabe said.
“Awww, that’s sweet,” I grinned.
“Meh. Her hands are greasy,” Gabe said.
“Who is it?” I heard my sister ask.
“Aunt Devin,” Gabe answered.
“Here, I’ll talk to her,” Nicky said. It was several seconds, I assumed she was wiping her hands. “Hey.”
“Hi, things going ok with you and your son?”
“Wonderful,” I heard her kiss Gabe somewhere, probably his cheek.
“Good. Have you and him been getting closer?”
“A little more each day.”
“Think it’ll end up, you know,” I suggested.
“Maybe. Feels like it might.”
“It’ll be my secret. Maybe because I don’t have a son is why I’m rooting for you two,” I said.
“We’ll see!”
“Anyway, the reason for my call is to let you know I’m staying in Atlanta a little longer. There’s something I’m thinking about, something I want to try,” I explained.
“Sounds good. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“Great. Oh and get naked. If Gabe sees that body of yours, he’ll go crazy!”
“Ha! Sure, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Talk to you later,” I ended the call.
I paced back and forth around my room for the next few hours. “I’ll just show up. No, that won’t work,” I thought. “Maybe I’ll trick the receptionist, hmmm,” I looked out my window.
“What if…no, ugh!” I rubbed my temples, frustrated. It was almost time to pick up Alfred.
-4-
I was bouncing up and down on that old man’s dick after dinner. I treated him to a nice meal, and then fucked him until he couldn’t stay awake anymore.
I slid off him, sucking hungrily on his cock. His cum was my dessert.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm, you love you some black dick! Don’t you?” old Alfred said after spewing his load in my mouth.
“All my life,” I said, licking his cock clean.
“Some women are made for it,” he said.
“Mmm, I love it,” I moaned. An idea struck me. If I was able to score a meeting with Neal somehow, I could present this idea to him. Elite Magazine could be relaunched. It wouldn’t be the same thing, no articles about music, movies, entertainment, cars and so on. It would have picture spreads of white women loving black men. They could be pornographic in nature – celebrating black cock. There could be a few articles, sex stories about interracial adventures perhaps.
“Yes,” I thought, sucking Alfred until he passed out. I climbed off the bed and took a shower, fingering myself until I climaxed.
“Yes!” I cried out from pleasure, but also at my idea. Would Neal buy it? Maybe, it was worth a shot.
The next day I made several phone calls to The Blackwell Group, hoping I could get Neal on the phone. No luck. I even drove by the building, hoping maybe to run into Neal outside. I didn’t see him. I drove by the old Elite Magazine building and let Alfred bend me over his desk to empty his balls into me after lunch. I kissed the old man, telling him I’d pick him up later dinner and sex.
We fucked until around midnight, when Alfred was having trouble staying awake. In his arms, staring at his black, sleeping cock, I decided in the morning I’d simply show up and hope for the best. I had my idea for a relaunched Elite Magazine; I just needed to meet with Neal.
***
“Ma’am, guests sign in here,” The front desk security guard told me.
“Oh, right, sorry,” I said, walking over. “I have a meeting with The Blackwell Group, I told him.”
He said nothing, nodding to the form. I signed it and made my way to the elevator. I was early, not many people were there. I hoped Neal was.
I exited the elevator; a receptionist desk right in front of me. Behind the young brunette giving me a strange look, there was a mural on the wall. It was of a black man’s abdomen with a small, white hand resting on it. I looked around. There were other murals along the halls. One was a tropical setting, a black man holding a white woman’s hand walking along the beach; another was of a white woman’s bare back, with a large black hand on it.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.
“Um, yes, I was hoping to meet with Neal today. The agency sent me to help with his upcoming vacation plans,” I lied.
“I don’t know anything about that,” she said.
“Really?” I glanced to the mural of the man and woman on the beach. “They said he wanted to see me this morning,” I played with my blouse, pulling it aside a bit, showing her cleavage.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Twenty minutes passed, I heard muffled moans, and cries of pleasure coming from what I assume was Neal’s office. The receptionist finally emerged, her hair a mess, and her clothes hastily put back on.
“He doesn’t know anything about it, but he said you can come in anyway. Perhaps there was a scheduling miscommunication,” she told me.
“Thank you,” I smiled, and followed her to Neal’s huge double door office entrance.
She said nothing, motioning me to enter. I walked in, observing a big couch against the wall, a small table, some chairs, a huge desk, with windows behind it. Neal was sitting, looking blankly at me. I was frozen unable to speak. Even sitting down he appeared huge.
“Yes?” he spoke.
“Um, hi, listen, I want to talk about,” I stammered, having trouble concentrating in his somewhat imposing presence. I refocused, doing what I normally do with black men, picture them naked.
I took a deep breath, looked at him seductively, and started over. “Elite Magazine. I used to work there. It was my life. I want to talk about it, I want to share an idea with you, I want to relaunch it.”
“I thought this was about – ”
“I lied. Sorry. Hear me out before you throw me out,” I said, pulling a chair away from his desk, sitting in front of him.
He rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “You’re wasting our time. So make it quick.”
“I want to relaunch it. I want it to be totally different than King Monthly. No articles about interests 18-35 year old black men may have. I want it to celebrate and focus on,” I licked my lips, looking him over, “interracial sex.”
He started to speak, I interrupted him. “Would it be porn? Perhaps. Would it be similar to Playboy, with nude women? Yes. Would there be nude black men? Of course. What little articles there are, would pertain to interracial dating, sex, and stories of conquests and adventures in the bedroom.”
Neal nodded, then stood, looking out his window. My eyes widened when he did so. He was extremely tall, huge, like a body builder – even bigger than TJ.
“You want money for this to happen, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
Neal slowly walked over him, towering above me. “Why should I fund this?”
I did only what came to me naturally, I slid my top open, further revealing my cleavage while looking up at him.
He laughed, pulled me up, standing me before his massive frame. I felt so tiny.
“Do you know how many white women I’ve had? Countless. You think you can come in here, demand money for that magazine, then try to show a little skin to convince me? No, that’s not how it works. Be a professional. Draft a demo, a presentation, some sort of draft to show me. If I like what I see, what you pitch to me, then I’ll consider your idea. It’s not a bad one.”