The rain was still drumming against the building, but inside the entryway of my apartment, the air was thick and sweltering. The tired office worker who had walked into the lift was gone, replaced by someone driven entirely by the primal energy this woman brought into the room.
She was a true nymphomaniac, her hunger visible in the way her eyes darted over me. As she knelt before me, her thick Zulu curves straining against her dress, I reached into the side pocket of my work bag. I pulled out a blue condom, the foil glinting under the hallway light. I didn't say a word; I just handed it to her.
She took it with a wicked smirk, her teeth tearing the packet open before she expertly rolled the blue latex over me. She didn't mind the interruption. If anything, the brief pause only made her more frantic.
I didn't even bother taking off my white shirt. I just gripped her hips, those solid, thick Zulu hips, and bent her forward until her chest was pressed flat against the entryway table. I moved her work aside, the wood creaking under her weight as I drove into her from behind.
"Uyamuzwa uBaba?" I growled into her ear, my voice low and commanding.
She let out a sharp, jagged cry, her fingers clawing at the edge of the table. She was incredibly tight, her body welcoming the intrusion with a rhythmic pulse which threatened to end me right then and there. She wasn't just taking it; she was fighting back, shoving her weight against me, her breath coming in short, desperate hitches.
"Ngena, ngena ngamandla," she pleaded, her voice a raw whisper of Zulu passion.
The friction of the blue latex and her natural heat was an overwhelming combination. I pushed her harder, my chinos bunched at my knees as I focused on nothing but the sensation of claiming her right there in the dark. She was vocal, unashamed, her cries echoing through the apartment as she reached her peak, her body shuddering violently against the table.
As I felt my own limit approaching, I didn't want it to end behind her. I reached down, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her upright. I spun her around and pushed her back against the door I had just locked minutes ago. I stripped the blue condom off and tossed it aside. She didn't need to be told what to do. She dropped to her knees again, her eyes locked on mine with that fan fatal intensity. She took me into her mouth, her tongue working with a desperate, expert speed to catch the coming surge.
I spent myself entirely, the release hitting with a force that left me breathless. She didn't pull away. She stayed there, focused and greedy, swallowing every drop of my seed as if it were the only thing she had been craving all day. She licked her lips, looking up at me for some sign of affection or a reason to stay.
But the work day was over, the lust was spent, and I was back to being the man who just wanted his peace. I looked down at her, my expression cold and neutral as I straightened my white shirt.
"I’m done," I said, my voice flat. "You can leave now."
The shift in the room was instant. She blinked, the fire in her eyes dimming for a second as the reality of the transaction hit. She didn't argue. She stood up, smoothed down her dress, and wiped a stray drop from the corner of her mouth. She gave me one last lingering look, half respect, half hunger, before she turned and walked out into the hallway.
