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Erotic Story/Crazy Lenny: Lenny and the randy bookstore lady (Part 2)


She looks up at me, lets go of my dick and slides her lips all the way down to the base of my shaft. I can feel the tension building in my balls as my dick enters the back of her throat. I’m getting close and I close my eyes again. Suddenly, in my mind,…

I’ve never done anything like this and the excitement of a blowjob in the storeroom is driving me close to my climax. Bukki pumps faster, stroking and sucking my dick and playing with my balls. I dig my fingers into her hair and pull her head towards me, trying to drive my dick farther into her mouth.

She looks up at me, lets go of my dick and slides her lips all the way down to the base of my shaft.

I can feel the tension building in my balls as my dick enters the back of her throat. I’m getting close and I close my eyes again. Suddenly, in my mind, I’m lying on my bed and the sexy woman I just met is kneeling between my legs, her massive breasts with their hard nipples are brushing against my thighs as she deepthroats my dick.

She pulls her lips back along my dick, stroking faster, sucking harder and flicking her tongue against the underside of my dick. Our eyes lock and I watch her thick, black lips glide down my dick and I push my hips up to meet her. My legs tense, I thrust my ass off the bed and start shooting streams of cum deep in her throat in quick jerky motions.

Nearly losing my balance I grab the nearby shelf to keep from falling over. Looking down, it’s Bukki again stroking and sucking and swallowing my cum. When she’s sucked every drop of cum from me, she let’s my dick slip from her lips and stands up.

“Wow! That was amazing!” I say. “I really needed that.”

“You are amazing and that was intense!” She says, making a show of licking her lips.

“You really came hard and I really enjoyed it but we better get back. I’ll go out first, I want to get coke,” She says, smacking her lips as she leaves the storeroom. While I’m pulling up my trouser, I’m already wondering if my fantasy woman is still in the store. If I ever get a chance to live out that fantasy, I’m sure I won’t be thinking about Bukki when I cum in the her mouth.

Yes! She’s still looking at sexuality books as I exit the storeroom. I figure I might as well take a chance, gorgeous women flaunting their sexual needs don’t come along everyday.

“I’m getting ready to go. Did you find what you were looking for?” I ask her just as matter-of-factly as her original request.

“I’m still looking. You have a nice evening and thanks for your help,” She says, dismissing me.

“Look, it’s none of my business,” I say, stepping closer to her, trying not to get intimidated by her immense beauty,

“But a sexy woman like you shouldn’t have to fend for herself in these matters.”

“You’re right,” she says sharply,

“It is none of your business.” She’s looking at a book entitled How to Have an Orgasm Whenever You Want. She looks at me, her eyes soften and she smiles.

“Thank you for your help, Lenny. Now why don’t you go home and let me finish reading, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, apologizing but not ready to give up yet.

“I work here part-time so if there’s ever anything I can help you with…” I pause for effect.

“I’m here most nights until nine.”

“I’ll mark it in my schedule,” She smiles, shaking her head and going back to her reading. I look back one more time at her perfectly round ass and wonder why a sexy woman like her needs books on orgasms.

I think about her all through my lectures the next day, hoping to see her again in the bookshop. I work my regular shift from five to nine and it’s uneventful except for helping an old lady trying to find a magazine.

About eight o’clock my fantasy woman walks in and goes directly to the sexuality section. She’s wearing a white blouse tucked into a black skirt and I’m getting aroused just watching her walk. She strolls confidently, with just enough swing in her hips to draw my eyes to her bouncy ass cheeks.

Her long lovely legs give her a gracefulness as she navigates the passage.

Standing at the customer service desk, I suppress the urge to go right over to her. I can’t suppress other urges and I hope it’s not obvious. Trying to decide how best to approach her, I watch as she flips pages of books and imagine what her ass looks like naked under her tight, form-fitting skirt. I can almost feel my hands cupping her firm flesh and squeezing her ass cheeks.

I catch her looking at me several times and each time she quickly looks down at her book. I take that as a good sign and finally walk over to her.

“Hi,” I say.

“It’s good to see you again. Although, that probably means you still haven’t found what you need.”

“Hi Lenny,” she answers.

“No, not really. You’re right about there being a lot of books. It’s just… I don’t know. I’m looking for an answer that doesn’t need batteries.” She laughs and the frills on her blouse distract me as they curve around her breasts. Her high collar blouse with one open button reveals more of her smooth skin than was visible last night. I force myself to look her in the eyes, their exotic, almond shape making that very easy.

“It shouldn’t be that way,” I say softly, moving closer to her.” Maybe you’re not considering the right question.”

“What question is that?” she asks sarcastically. “You mean like, why am I even discussing this with a skinny, young guy in a bookshop who’s trying to analyse me?”

“No, That’s a different question,” I laugh,

“But maybe you do need someone to talk to about this and you could do a lot worse than me.”

“I could?” she asks smiling at me. Her smile seems to light up her whole face and her eyes sparkle as she raises her already high eyebrows in a questioning manner.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “You could call a therapist.”

Laughing, she says,

“Well, maybe we should just get someone to do a book club selection on it.”

“That would be great!” I say, laughing with her.

“Seriously, I would love to just sit down over a glass of wine and get to know you. I don’t even know your name.” She’s staring at me quizzically.

“What do you say?” I ask.

“I will be leaving in a few minutes and you’ll get a free drink out of it.”

“I don’t know,” she says, looking at her watch.

“I really should be getting home.”

“Half an hour,” I counter.

“What can it hurt?”

“Okay,” she finally agrees.

“Half an hour but I pay for my own drink.” We agree to meet at a nearby bar. We order separately and choose a small table in the corner that affords only modest privacy.

“My name is Chiamaka Eze. She says offering her hand. My friends call me Amaka.”

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