Afternoon delight with brown sugar on top

I never usually get a chance to do black girls.
Not because I don't want to, or am not attracted by them.
I'm attracted by a particular kind of black girl, slender with a cute face.
Never really had that opportunity because I'm not exposed to black girls where I work or at my nudist camp.
That was true until one day in Rocky Mount, N.C., halfway between Pennsylvania and the nudist resort in Florida I was traveling to at that time.
I was about 28 or 29.
I checked into a Howard Johnson's Motel about 2 p.m., got the key to my room and then quickly undressed, got a shower and was ready for a few hours of shut eye before continuing on to Florida.
As I was drying my hair, naked and incredibly horny, I heard a soft knock on the door.
"Housekeeping" I heard a woman's voice say.
I took my towel to the door, covered up and looked through the peephole.
There stood a beautiful black girl, not more than five years younger than I but much taller.
She looked a lot like the black girl they were working into the cast of the last season of Friends, Aisha Tyler.
I heard another soft knock.
"Housekeeping," she said, this time only slightly louder.
I thought, "What the hey?"
I dropped the towel and opened it on a crack.
"Hello," I said, with an inviting smile.
She smiled back.
"Do you need service, sir?" she asked, taking a peak at my throbbing member, then looking directly into my eyes with another smile, then back at my member again, this time more throbbing and more excited.
With my heart beating 100 miles a minute, I opened the door a little wider.
Mike Jr. was now saluting her like she was a five-star General.
Mike Jr. was inviting her in, but Mike Sr. was speechless.
I didn't know what to say.
"Well, what services are you offering?" I sputtered.
"Anything you need," she said, looking down and smiling again.
I then took a bold move, pushed by Mike Jr.
"If you don't mind what I'm not wearing, you are more than welcome to come in," I said.
"All right, sir," she said.
"Only if you don't call me, sir," I said. "Hi, I'm Mike."
"Hi, I'm Janelle," she said, now taking her first step inside the room. "I'd rather like what you're wearing. You mind if I touch it?"
"I'd love you to touch it."
She gently stroked it while wearing her maid outfit. Powder blue with white trim.
I was soon to become her white trim.
"Baby, this is HARD," she said, then looking at my grateful eyes. "Oh sweetie, you are sooooo cute."
I moaned.
"You mind if I suck this mother-fucker, hon?" she said.
"Mind? I'm already in Heaven. Do whatever you want."
She then discarded the Maid outfit, her panties and everything else. In five seconds, she was completely naked, and then continued to suck my dick.
I gestured her to get on the bed. She sucked some more.
I reached down to put my fingers in her pussy.
It was soaked.
I then repositioned myself. We were both doing 69.
Her moans were muted, but audible. Then were cheering me on.
I got my first look at black pussy.
To my surprise, the clit was a darker color, too.
I licked some more and stopped, only to catch my breath.
I could not believe this was happening.
"Why you stoppin'?" she said. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I could have been wrong, but it seemed like it was the first time she's ever been eaten.
"There," she said, as I moved my tongue ever closer to her egorged clit. "Right there. Right there. Right there. ..."
She said "right there" over and over, like someone would say, "Oh my God."
Right there.
She was the best cheerleader a guy on the pussy-eating field could ever have had.
"Right there, baby!! Right there. Oh yeah. Right there. Put a finger in there, too. Oh yeah. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me."
I felt compelled to obey her wishes.
My face was so wet I thought I was going to drown. I wiped it off while I fucked her from behind. I was sweating like a pig afterward.
What a workout for both of us. It certainly beats the stairmaster any day of the week.
"Do you need a towel, honey?" she said.
"That's what you came in for in the first place, right?" I said.
"Something like that," she said, laughing, collapsing on the bed.
Afternoon delight in Rocky Mount, N.C., with brown sugar on top.

Author's disclaimer: If there are any 17-year-old black kids with red hair walking around Rocky Mount, N.C. wondering who their daddy is, the answer is no, I will not go on Maury Povich to do the DNA test.