Sabrina thought the guy sounded okay.  He was plainly nervous - breathing hard,
stumbling over the odd word here and there - but that wasn’t unusual.  It always amused
Sabrina that these men – her punters, as she thought of them – would be nervous about
calling up a strange woman who circulated her phone-number on the internet; as though they
were the ones taking a risk playing such games.  In a way, Sabrina had always found their
nervousness rather sexy.  They were granting one little old black girl so much power, and
they had no idea they were even doing it.
      “So, uh…this is Nairobi?”
      Sabrina adjusted the cell-phone to her ear as she strolled down M Street, smiling
at the absurdity of her assumed name.  Nairobi, your Nubian Queen, at your service.  Of
course, not one of her punters had ever called her on it.  But then, most of the poor
darlings probably couldn’t find Africa on a map.  “Speaking.  And this is…?”
      A momentary silence; the man apparently hadn’t thought to pick an alias of his own
to hide behind, and apparently was nervous about giving her his real name.  Sabrina rolled
her eyes.  I might just have to give this one a pass, she thought.  It was Saturday, fresh
and blue-skied after a week of rain, far too lovely a day to waste on wankers.  She had
just finished a morning of shopping and had just decided to be a truly naughty girl and
skip the errands waiting in her office in favor of more shopping.  The designs would be
there on Monday every bit as surely as they were today.  Georgetown, with its boutiques
and spas, beckoned.  
      “I’m Mike.”
      Finally.  It was probably his real name, actually; no one looking for a bit of
naughty phone-fun would hide behind a name so bland as “Mike.”  Still, Sabrina decided,
she’d give him a chance.  What the hell; if he was truly a waste of oxygen he appeared to
be, she could always hang up and block his number.  She had done it before, with far more
promising suitors. “Okay, Mike.  So what’s going on today, baby?”  
      “Not much.  Just…you know.”
      No, I don’t know, actually.  Still, she had known a lot of very hot conversations
start out this way.  The trick was to get the guy hot enough to stop hiding behind
clichéd generalities, entice him to come out and play for real.  “Are you horny at
all?”
      “I…what?”
      God, I don’t believe this.  “Horny, baby.  Here, listen to me: is your cock big and
hard and itchy inside, like the best thing in the world would be for me to wrap my hand
around it and jerk it off like a motherfucker?  Until it squirts loads of your hot white
cum all over the room, hmm?  Till it like paints the walls white?  Till all that spunk
just drips off it?  Mmm.  Does that sound good?  Does that sound like a plan, Mikey?”  She
grinned wolfishly, even though poor clueless Mikey couldn’t see her.  Christ, but she did
love talking dirty.  Loved it.  It almost made the Mikeys of her world worth the trouble. 

      She had come to an intersection and stood patiently waiting for the light to
change.  A frumpy-looking woman stumped up beside her.  Sabrina eyed her briefly, with
pity and amusement.  The poor thing had actually put a suit on, so everyone she met would
know she was being a good girl and contributing her Saturday at the law firm or wherever. 
As though she had any better options.
      Meanwhile, back on the phone, Mike was babbling.  “Yeah…yeah, that sounds pretty
good.”  Finally, Sabina thought.  At last, a little fucking enthusiasm!  Even a little
heat.  Some of them just needed to be primed a little, she guessed, like an old pump.
      “Lovely.  You got a big cock, honey?  Is it a big white cock with a fat, pretty
mushroom head?  A girl-fucking cock?  ‘Cause baby, that’s exactly the kind of cock I
like.”  Sabrina didn’t need to look to see that Ms. Frumpy had heard her.  She felt eyes
on her, sensed delicious outrage coursing through the woman’s sturdy frame, and heard the
clatter of her sensible shoes taking her far away from this trash-talking black lunatic. 
Sabrina grinned.  So I’m a bit of an exhibitionist.  So sue me.  
      On the phone, Mike was panting just a bit.  “Yeah…yeah, it’s big, alright.  It’s
like big for you.”  
      Sabrina knew he was taking his cock – big and thick with a fat mushroom head, or
dinky little piece of nothing, that was between him and it – out of his pants and starting
to rub.  He liked her voice, she could tell; the smoky purr of it in his ear, the little
inflections and hints that said Black to his pearly white ears.  To him she was
unthinkably exotic, a fire breathing, unstoppable sex-machine.  He was perfect; she
couldn’t have done any better if her ad had read HOT BLACK CHICK ISO CLUELESS WHITE BOYS.
      “For me?  That’s so sweet.  I’d love to play with it, Mike.  You know, I’ve got the
prettiest hands.  You ever had a black girl jerk you off, Mike?  It’s just the most
delicious thing.  You know, our hands get a little dry sometimes, so we have to lube them
up with a nice big glob of lotion.  You know?  You know what that lotion looks like?”
      “My cum?” Mike breathed.  “It looks like my cum?”  Oh, that’s adorable, Sabrina
thought, smiling.  Not just anyone’s cum, but his in particular.  
      “That’s right, baby.  We rub that cummy lotion in real good, so our sweet brown
hands get all slick and soft and nice.  Feel real good on your cock.  Absolutely.  I’d
wrap my fingers round your joystick and take it for a ride…rub up and down, up and down,
you know?  So my thumb hits that fat-ass cockhead of yours every single time, okay?”  She
smiled as she spoke; she was getting into it now, feeling that little tell-tale moistening
in her panties, the slight ache as her nipples tightened into brown pegs.  It was the cute
little my cum remark from Mike that had done it; a lot of times it just took something
like that, some little chance remark to put her pussy into overdrive.
      There was a little park off the sidewalk, a patch of green not more than a few
yards wide.  Sabrina picked a bench and sat down, arranging her bags carefully – two at
her feet, two in her lap with her handbag.  “You’d be able to hear it, Mike.  That
slurp-slurp sound of hard cockmeat sliding through a lubed-up black hand.  You hear it,
baby?  It making you crazy yet?  Is it making your balls tingle, is it giving you that
sweet old gotta-cum itch?  Make you wanna explode?”  Careful to keep her hands behind the
bags, she began working the zipper of her jeans open.  
      “Yeah…yeah…it’s…” Mike’s voice was a hoarse grunt.  He was getting close to
cumming; Sabrina thought she could hear a fairly good approximation of the hand-on-cock
sound she had just been conjuring.  
      “No, baby.  No, Mike, not yet.  Mike?  Not yet, Mike…”  She had to be careful not
to speak too sharply or loudly – she might startle him and break the moment.  Yet now that
she had committed herself this way she couldn’t risk him just blowing his seed and hanging
up.  Not until she’d had some fun of her own.  
      “What?”  He sounded suspicious, pouty.
      “Stay with me baby.  Keep touching that cock for me, okay?  Keep making yourself
feel good.  Cause guess what I’m doing right now?”
      Sabrina’s fingers had broached the little metal-toothed gap of her jeans – she
bought boy-fly jeans for a reason, and left her panties at home on her Saturday outings
for a similar reason.  Her fingers briefly considered the crisp curls of her pubes before
teasing the moist folds of her labia.  She hissed sharply, her shoulders jerking a bit. 
The summer sun was deliciously hot on her shoulders; if she touched her hair it would burn
her fingers.   Cars hissed by behind her, and on the other end of the park a couple
strolled by, intent on a conversation.   Too far away to see her, but still there, still
adding that little element of danger.  Sabrina’s fingers fumbled at her clit and her mouth
drooped open, made a low, idiot noise.
      Frigging myself out here like a maniac where people can see me; crazy girl, sexy
fucking nympho oughta be put the fuck away…
      “I don’t know.  What are you doing?”  Ah, Mike.  He had not disappeared.  His
grumpy voice brought Sabrina’s consciousness back to the phone, the warm, slightly sweaty
pressure of it against her ear.  
      “I’m playing with myself, baby.  Just like you’re doing.  I’m doing it for you,
right out here in the open…”
      “You wanna come over here?  To my place?”  The excitement in Mike’s voice had
faded, though it had not disappeared entirely.  He was still playing with himself, Sabrina
knew, but not quite as intently.  He was just stroking his cock, maybe teasing his balls a
little, just to keep the feeling alive.  Now that his initial trepidation had been
relieved, the pleasures Sabrina had given him had grown a little old.  He wanted the next
thrill, which was Sabrina in the flesh, a physical version of the fantasy-doll she had
made herself for him.
      “Maybe a little later, honey.”  Yeah, in your dreams, big boy.  She doubted she’d
be in any real danger from him, but you never could tell.  Too many horror stories out
there.  That was why she had bought a second cell phone for her fun and games.  The number
was tied to no name, no identity any of her punters could easily trace, and it provided
her with an endless parade of fantasy lovers.  As a sex toy, it was damn near perfect. 
And when she wanted the real thing – real hard, real big cock – she had Jared.  Her big
bad real-time lover wasn’t crazy about her phone-games, but Sabrina had assured him they
were only a once-in-a-while thing.  A little white lie.  The tiniest – surely most
permissible – of fibs.
      “Right now you got me so hot, honey.  I just can’t stand it, you know?  I just
gotta…mmn.  Yeah…wish you could see me now.  I’m out here in a little park…”
      “Where at?”  Ugh.  Mikey apparently wasn’t finding the scenario of little Sabrina
fingering her twat in public as charming as Sabrina herself.  Moreover, he was starting to
get persistent – if not obsessive - about this proposed meeting.  That “Where at?”
actually sounded sly – not a good sign.  
      The worst thing was that now she actually needed this idiot; if he forced her to
end the call without a good hot orgasm to tide her over until she got home to Jared for a
proper fucking, she was going to be walking funny all afternoon – and in a really foul
temper to boot.  Her wrist already felt like it might cramp up from the awkward angle
discretion had forced her to hold it in.  She had to get Mike hot again.  But her own
pleasure was compromising her focus; she wasn’t going to be able to offer Mike more than
token porn-movie lines to hold his attention.   
      Unless, of course…she really went for it.  
      She smiled at the thought.  Dare I?  Little me?  An older woman passed the bench,
met Sabrina’s smile with a somewhat absent one of her own, totally missing the hand-action
going on behind the purse.  Sabrina’s smile widened.
      How dare I not?
      She had to move fast, though.  Already she could sense the little darling losing
focus – she could practically hear his brain cells fading away,  one by one.  “You want to
know where I am, Mikey?  Huh?  You want that?  So you can come and see me?”
      “Well…yeah, I…”
      Sabrina took a deep breath, gathered her thoughts for a moment, and then let rip. 
“Then you’re going to have to be a good boy and help me cum.  Right here, right now.  I
don’t want to wait.  See Mikey, I wanna cum buckets and I wanna do it now, this very
second.  I want you to be the one to do it to me, to make me finger-fuck my hot cunt.   I
want you to get me so hot I have to keep my legs spread and my heels just fucking dug into
the earth, like if I didn’t anchor myself I might just shoot up into the sky like a
fuck-rocket.”
      She spoke easily, fluidly, the words ringing off her lips with authority and a
devastating sexiness.  Damn, I might not even need a man after all, she grinned.  I can
turn my own bad self on.
      “I want you to inspire me to some serious hand-to-pussy action, you got me?  No
messing around here, baby.  I sense for one second that you’re half-stepping, I will hang
this phone up, with no hesitation at all.  But if you succeed…if you do this for me,
Mike…if you make this supreme effort for your sweet black Nairobi…then I’ll tell you where
I am, and baby mine, I will fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.  My twat will eat you
alive, you copy?”
      “Yeah.  Oh, yeah…”  He did, too.  Sabrina could hear it in his voice; she had his
full attention now.  She could practically hear his cock stiffening up again.   No risk
that she’d lose his attention again, not any time soon.
      “My baby,” Sabrina purred, settling back on the bench and getting to work in
earnest.  Her clit really was good and sensitive today, so tender that as her fingertips
brushed it she was wracked with shudders.  Perfect timing once again, she thought.  “So
talk to me.  How you going to fuck me?”
      She was making no effort to keep her voice down, but then, she never did on these
little adventures.   She had invited her friend Karen out one Saturday, tried to get her
to take part, but only a few minutes had turned the poor thing into a giggling, shushing
wreck.  “Be quiet, Sabrina, keep it down!”  But talking dirty out loud was part of the
fun; after all, even if some prim and proper busybody heard her, what could they do?  This
wasn’t Victorian England.  They weren’t likely to throw her in jail.  
       “I…mmm.  I’d first…like…I’d suck on your tits.” 
      “Hmmn.  Yeah?  You’d do that, honey?  Tell me.  Tell me how.”
      “I’d…okay, first I’d bite on your nipples okay?  Not hard…I mean, not so it’d
hurt…”
      “That’s okay, honey.  You bite my big black nipples.  You bite ‘em hard so I can
feel it…I wanna feel those bites all the way down to my toes.”
      Sabrina could already feel them.  Her tits were aching, longing for the pressure of
a warm hand.  If both her own hands weren’t busy holding the phone and guiding her pussy
to a slow and delicious climax, Sabrina would willingly have done the honors herself.  
      Mike swallowed hard, then went on.  “Okay.  And then like, I’d suck on ‘em.  But
first…first, okay, I’d lick ‘em.  I mean, slowly.  Like…get them all wet, so they bumped
up and got real big and hard.  Like gumdrops or something.”
      A giggle made itself known in Sabrina’s chest, shuddered its way up and out as she
continued to work her clit.  “Ooh…Mike, you be careful now.  You know I’m ticklish, now…” 
She was, too, and this was a confession she’d never have made if she were actually going
to meet him.  Nobody needed to know how ticklish she was, least of all one of her punters.
 Tickling was one thing that could drive her straight over the edge.  
      “And then…once they were hard like that?  With all the little teeny bumps around
them?  The what’cha’call ‘em…the arials…”
      “Aureoles, baby.  I want you to run the tip of your tongue around those aureoles,
feel those little teeny bumps like a blind man reading Braille…tell me what it says, baby.
 Tell me what message my big old titties have for you…”
      Oh god damn, but this was actually getting good!  Mike was into it!  Obviously he
was a tit-man, and this business about licking and sucking nipples was something he took
particular personal pleasure in.  Probably every time he jacked off looking at dirty
pictures on the internet, it was the girls’ tits he was really thinking about, no matter
how much he might look at their pussies.  Sabrina could hear the focus in his voice, the
excitement that minute by minute was growing and forcing him to start jerking himself
again.  This fantasy belonged to him, and now she was – in however small a way – a part of
it.  She could hear him grunting as his hand went to work in earnest – but softly, gently
so it wouldn’t disturb her.  She grinned.  My little gentleman…
      “Mike?  Baby?  You gettin’ that message?  You readin’ it on my titties?”  Her voice
was teasing, playful.  She felt no need now to slow his own masturbation down, or control
the situation.  She was getting close to orgasm herself.  She could damn near see her
climax looming in the distance, like a big, sun-shot cloud.  At this point, she could come
damn near anytime she wanted to…all it would take was the slightest pressure there, on her
clit…she’d cum torrents; it’d be like switching on a light.  
      There was no one in the little park, no cars on the street that she could see. 
Just Sabrina and her slightly clueless white fantasy-boy.  So beautiful, so perfect.  Love
it, love it, love it.
      “Mike, you do one thing for me, okay?  Before you cum over there in telephone land?
 I want you to tell me…bout…tell me about how you’re gonna fuck me with your big hard
cock…”
      “Yeah, sure, I…I’m gonna put it in you…stick it in…so hard…like, you’re gonna
scream.  Fuck you…over and over and over…”
      His voice was throaty, wet.  It rose and fell in the rhythms of fucking, of jerking
off.  He was close too…or maybe he had already come.  Maybe his hand was white with
spilled seed, dripping with it, and this throaty rhythm was purely to coax the last few
drops from his cock.  
      Sabrina liked that idea.  She fucking loved it.  Let’s just wind the tape back a
wee little bit there….yes, she could see him doing it.  In this vision, Mike was young,
just a bit chunky, in a white t-shirt that was the least little bit too tight for him. 
Chunky but strong-looking.  His cock was thick and it jerked in his hand, suddenly
fountaining white as he groaned into the phone to Sabrina about how he was going to stick
it in her so hard and fuck her over and over and over…
      That did it.  Yeah, that did it for real.  The orgasm blossomed in Sabrina, rose in
her like a red heat, made her mouth water and cry out as a single, sharp blast of pleasure
rocked her crown to heel.
      “You do it?”  Mike’s voice was a dry croak, desperate with want.  “You come?  Did
you, baby?”  
      Sabrina couldn’t help be touched by the endearment.  Zipping herself up, she smiled
into the air, let her voice lower, making it as sexy as she possibly could.  
      “Yes, baby.  I came like fucking wildfire, and you’re the one who did it to me. 
Thank you, Mike.”
      “So…can we…where are you, anyway?  I can get a cab…”
      Was there some little hint of sex left in that voice?  Was it possible he hadn’t
actually cum yet after all?  Had he somehow managed to keep himself on the verge of
cumming?   For someone like him – he hadn’t shown himself to be long on self-control -
that must have been rough.  This boy wanted her, no doubt about that.  He sounded like he
was ready to crawl through the phone to get to her…
      Sabrina pressed the END button with the flat of her thumb.  Bye-bye, Mikey. 
Parting is such sweet sorrow and whatever.  It took her only a minute to block his number.
 She knew from hard experience that punters tended to get obsessive about trying to
re-establish contact, though few had the sense to try from another number.  Move on, baby,
move on.
      “Yeah,” she sighed, taking a moment to pat her hair back into place.  “Yeah, I’d
say that’s giving it everything I got…and if it’s not, I’d say it’s a pretty goddam good
approximation.”