The air in the small Lagos bar was thick with sweat, spilled beer, and the low thump of Afrobeat. I had come in for a quick drink after work, but then she walked in. Amara, twenty-four, all curves and attitude, her dark skin glowing under the dim lights, hips swaying in a tight skirt that barely covered her ass. She caught me staring and smiled like she already knew what I wanted.
We barely spoke. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back hallway. "You want it rough?" she asked, voice low and direct. I nodded. She pushed open the storage room door, locked it behind us, and shoved me against the wall.
Her mouth was on mine fast, tongue pushing deep, tasting like rum. Her hands went straight to my belt, yanking it open. "Get hard for me," she ordered, dropping to her knees. She pulled my cock out and took it straight into her mouth, no teasing, just wet heat and suction. Her lips stretched around the shaft, saliva dripping down my balls as she bobbed hard and fast. I groaned and grabbed her braids, fucking her face while she gagged and moaned around me.
Amara stood up, turned around, and hiked her skirt over her hips. No panties. Her ass was thick and perfect, cheeks spreading as she bent over a stack of crates. "Fuck me," she said.
"Hard." I lined up and slammed into her pussy in one thrust. She was dripping wet, tight and hot. I gripped her hips and pounded her, skin slapping loud in the small room. Her moans got filthy fast. "Yes, fuck that black pussy, give it to me deep."
I reached around and rubbed her clit while I drove into her. She pushed back, meeting every thrust, her walls clenching. I pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her onto the crates. Her legs wrapped around me. I shoved back inside and fucked her upright, watching her full tits bounce under her top. She pulled it down, nipples dark and hard. I sucked one into my mouth, biting just enough to make her cry out.
She came first, pussy pulsing around my cock, juices running down my shaft. "Don't stop," she gasped. I kept thrusting through her orgasm, then pulled out and pushed her to her knees again. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. I stroked once, twice, and shot thick ropes across her face and lips. She licked it up, swallowed what she could, and grinned.
We weren't done. Amara stood, wiped her mouth, and said, "My turn to use you." She bent me over the crates this time, spread my cheeks, and licked my asshole without warning. Her tongue was hot and filthy, pushing inside while her hand stroked my cock back to full hardness. Then she slid two fingers into my ass, working me open while she jerked me.
When she was satisfied, she grabbed a strap-on from her bag—clearly prepared—and buckled it on. "You take this dick now," she said, voice rough. She pressed the head against my hole and pushed in slow at first, then deeper. The stretch burned good. She fucked me steady and deep, one hand on my hip, the other reaching around to stroke my cock in time with her thrusts.
I came again hard, shooting onto the floor while she kept pounding my ass. She pulled out, unbuckled the harness, and made me eat her pussy until she squirted down my chin.
We cleaned up just enough to walk out. Amara gave me her number. "Next time bring a friend," she said with a wink. "I like sharing."
Outside, the night air hit us. She walked away with that same sway, already looking for the next round. I knew I'd call.
