The Education of Donovan Read online

  The Education of Donovan

  by

  Fabian Black

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

  The Education of Donovan © 2013 Fabian Black

  Editor: Katriena Knights

  Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

  Books are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

  Dedication

  I would like to sincerely that Shara for giving me this opportunity. And a hardy thank you for each and every person who bought this book! I hope you enjoy and come back for more!

  ~Fabian

  Contents

  The Temptation. 5

  The Fall 7

  The Lesson. 8

  The Revelation. 12

  The Temptation

  Coming home in the middle of the day to Mary, Donovan’s sweet, biddable wife, was supposed be a happy surprise. Maybe he’d take her out to see the sights and then they’d have a nice, romantic dinner. She’d been a trooper, moving from their tiny Iowa town to the big city only to be left alone most of the day in their small apartment.

  Work was going well, though, despite the horrible economy. Soon they would be able to move out of the tall apartment building in the middle of the bustling metropolis into a bigger, flashier place somewhere in the good part of town. No suburban trap for him, not yet. Yeah, he knew Mary wanted the whole picket fence, two kids, and a dog routine, but they were young...ish. There was still some time left to really live before settling down into a humdrum, Americana life.

  Striding into the elevator, Donovan tried not to focus on the woman who had come in, arms laden with shopping bags. Tried but didn’t succeed. Cha’Relle. She’d introduced herself when he and Mary first moved in. The vivacious woman lived on his floor; he’d watched her come and go covertly for the entire year he and Mary had lived here. Back in Iowa, women didn’t look like her. Full and lush, like she was made for a long, hard romp in the hay. Of course, there weren’t any minorities in Greensway. There wasn’t much of anyone left there. That’s why he had packed up and left as soon as he’d finished college, a miracle in itself since his family had sold off their once profitable farm little by little.

  Women with deep cocoa-colored skin, flashing deep brown eyes and full, pouting lips weren’t seen walking around wearing dresses that fit curves that brought a man to his knees. It seemed unreal the way her incredibly abundant chest tapered down to a waist Donovan bet he could span with two hands, only to flow back outward to hips that were born to ride. And that ass! Donovan didn’t think he had ever seen one quite like it. Large, certainly, but not in a way that made you scrunch up your nose in disgust. Those bounteous globes made his dick hard no matter how much he tried not to stare.

  Like right now. As soon as she ran into the elevator just before the door slid shut, he had to grit his teeth. Her tits were bouncing like balls so full of air they were almost bursting. Of course her dress today was as low in the neck area as it was high at the hemline. Powerful, thick legs gleamed with health and vitality. He was willing to bet she wouldn’t get tired riding a man. Mary hated doing that. Mary didn’t much care for any part of sex that wasn’t in the dark and in missionary position.

  The woman smiled as he stabbed their floor button, pretty sure what was supposed to be an answering smile probably looked more like he was grimacing in pain. His cock throbbed painfully in his slacks. He’d never been with a black woman before. He’d always wanted to, always wondered if it would be different in any way, but he didn’t want to cheat on Mary. Even if their sex life was so mundane. Really, it always had been, but they had been high school sweethearts, their folks were friends, yada yada. Donovan wished he’d had a chance to really live before marrying. Maybe have a few exotic-type girls, like this one.

  “Hey, you live on my floor, don’t you?”

  Voice like sin, an invitation to all things to send him straight to hell. Why the hell was this elevator so slow?

  “Yes, three doors down.” Donovan didn’t think to play it cool. The dark angel was leaning back against the cool metallic walls of the five-by-six-foot cube, her legs spread ever so slightly apart.

  Angel? More like devil. Those slanted, dark brown eyes smiled at him as much as her lips did. There was knowledge there, knowledge that she knew the effect she had on him and she liked it. Loved it, more like. Girls like her knew and loved the power they held over the hapless male species. The elevator was too slow, the area too small, and despite the flurries of snow coming down outside, it was too fucking hot in here.

  “Then you don’t mind helping me with these packages, do you?”

  Donovan glanced at the bags at her feet before his gaze was pulled back to her face...and that ravishing chest. Beautiful, and much too tempting. And yet he heard his voice say, “Of course,” before his brain could catch up. Bad choice. Very bad choice. Still, like the good little farm boy he was, he picked up the bags as soon as the doors slid open.

  The Fall

  Like a child, he followed her out of the elevator to her front door. Knowing to cross her threshold would be the point of no return, Donovan swallowed down his conscience and stepped inside as soon as she beckoned, his body connected by some invisible force to her very essence. God, he could smell her. The light, floral scent of her perfume, the heat of her sex. That was just crazy. No way he could smell her sex. She didn’t stink or anything, after all. But hell, there was something pumping off that insanely tantalizing figure. Knowing he was on the fast track to hell on a greasy slide, he followed right into her bedroom, where she threw off her coat, sitting on the edge of the bed to kick off her shoes.

  A small moan slipped unashamed from his lips. Those heels were at least three inches. How the hell did she manage to navigate the streets in the snow and sleet wearing contraptions like that? It would be all too easy to slip right into some perverted arms. Some freak would be given free range to gather her close, rubbing the erection she elicited against the fleshy mounds of her ass. The degenerate wouldn’t stop there. He’d cup those breasts; so much more than a handful. The plump mammaries would swell in his feeble hands as he clutched, squeezed, kneaded...

  “Damn, baby, do I excite you that much?” Oh, shit, he had long since dropped her bags on the ground and was openly stroking himself through his pants. And he didn’t stop now that he realized what he was doing. That would make him the pervert, wouldn’t it? Yet the way she was looking at him... The lips coated in a blackberry gloss smacked as she watched his hands slowly milk his dick in homage to her. “And it looks like you’re packing there. Ummm, why don’t you open that zipper and let me see it all?”

  This was the point where Donovan should’ve walked away if he had a lick of sense left in his skull. Wasn’t it just too bad he didn’t? In the blink of the eye, his zipper was down, his slacks, boxers, and common sense pooling around his feet. Grasping his dick tighter than he generally liked, he welcomed the pain, watching as the gorgeous vixen watched him. A smallish pink tongue slipped from her mouth to swipe at her lips as his thumb worked his precum in circles around the reddening head of his prick. Her legs gaped open all too languidly
.

  Holy fires of hell! There was nothing at all covering the dark brown, puffy lips between her legs. The only hair in evidence was a small landing strip leading the way to her treasure trove. Donovan’s mouth watered as she eased back, leaning on one arm as her opposite hand slithered to the place he desperately wanted to be.

  “I’ve been watching you, you know.” Her words surprised him. All the brief times they had seen each other, there hadn’t been anything more than mild recognition on her face. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way your eyes just eat me up...” Eat her? Yes, he would love to do that. Bury his face between those chocolatey thighs to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you moved in.” Her finger spread the wetness from her cunt to the deep rose clit emerging from its hood. His hands stroked his dick faster, wanting so much to take the place of that finger. Her eyes never ceased watching him, even when her finger made the trip southward again, plunging inside her drenched snatch. One finger was followed by two, her hips rising, writhing as she fucked herself. “I want to taste you...may I?”

  Was she joking?

  “Yes, why don’t you do that?” Although he sounded like a man in charge, Donovan knew that to be so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. Oh, what the hell. In for a penny... “Don’t stop touching yourself. I want you to make yourself come as you suck me off.”

  The words were foreign to him. He’d always wanted to say them, like in the pornos he sometimes snuck off to watch in the middle of the night.

  “Ummm, yeah, baby. I like the way you think.”

  Once her lips wrapped around his cock, Donovan had to fight not to explode. So hot! So sweet! Not even a small scrape of teeth. She sucked with vigor, making his balls pull tight in a throbbing need to come. God, he didn’t want to come. His hand went to her hair, fisting it in an attempt to pull back, but only managed to use the silken ropes to pull her down on his cock. Somewhere in the back of his mind he seemed to remember someone mentioning black women didn’t like their hair touched. Maybe Tamika from work, another African American dream he spend too many nights fantasizing about. Cha’Relle didn’t seem to mind. She moaned around his dick, causing a vibrating sensation to race right to the base of his scrotum. He had to stop her...in just a minute...

  “Oh, no, you’re not about to come on me. Not before we get to the good stuff.”

  The Lesson

  Donovan blinked, trying to gather coherent thoughts. He’d been close, so very close. Now he watched, his cock cold as she moved away, peeling the skintight mini dress from her body. The only thing under the clinging piece of clothing was a bra that pushed her breasts up but barely contained them. The dark, espresso-colored areolas were clearly visible above the satin covering. Soon that was gone too, leaving her gloriously bare. Holy shit, what a body! Donovan didn’t know women were shaped like that anymore; she reminded him of a pinup girl or a 1950s starlet. She was soft and full in all the right places, her belly softly rounded outward. It brought to mind fertility rites and making babies. Her bones didn’t stick out at all angles. She was welcoming, an invitation for a man to take his pleasure.

  Rummaging through a side drawer, she threw him a little tin packet, then spread herself out on the bed. With her legs spread wide, he could clearly see how much she wanted this. Once more his mouth watered, needing to taste her secrets. There was nothing standing his way, and he wasn’t about to let this chance go by.

  Crawling between her thighs, he lowered his head to her waiting pussy, his tongue lapping at the moisture that escaped from her slit. The tang of her essence coated his tongue, driving him to probe deeper. Aww, hell, she was sweet. Swiveling hips smashed her crotch against his face, making it difficult to breathe, but Donovan didn’t care. The unabashed sounds of pleasure she made were air enough; the way she pulled at his hair as she ground out her enjoyment sustained him. How long had it been since he’d eaten pussy? He couldn’t remember. Damn, he missed it, missed this. He didn’t stop, not even after the first wave of her orgasm was greedily swallowed. Determined, he made her come twice more until she was screaming in ecstasy. Only then did he rise and quickly don the condom she’d thrown his way.

  He wanted her on her hands and knees so he could watch her magnificent ass as he drove into her. He wanted her on top of him so he could suckle those bountiful breast as she rode him. Hell, he wanted her nine ways from Sunday, but he would start here, with her on her back. Grapping her ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and shoved inside. He’d always wanted to do that too, just never had a—

  Fuck! Cha’Relle may have been a walking sex pot, but her pussy was almost as tight as a virgin’s. No way this was a road well traveled. His head swam with the implications. This wasn’t something she did a lot. Couldn’t possibly be. The knowledge had the opposite effect from what he would’ve expected. Instead of making him back off, it incensed him, causing him to pound into her harder, faster. The walls of her channel clung to him, milked him, but he couldn’t come. Not yet. With a tormented growl, he managed to pull himself away from the heaven/hell of her cunt. Oh, he was a long way from done, but need to have her every way.

  “I want you to ride me.” The confidence in his words was new. Donovan barely recognized himself. His sexy neighbor had awakened a part of him that had lain dormant his entire life. He was a man, damn it. The role he was meant to perform was conqueror, pillager. He would take what he wanted, what he needed. And this was a real woman, one who wasn’t afraid to take and receive pleasure. No negotiation, just this—her lush figure climbing on top of him and sliding down on his cock without batting an eyelash. The tightness cause him to grunt, thrusting up to make sure he was embedded to the hilt. He was in charge; he had this.

  Then she began to move. No simple up and down, jogging his dick. Cha’Relle rolled her hips, grinding down on him then whirling her hips in circles while her hand reached behind her to cup his balls, holding them in a firm grip. The sensations were beyond amazing. His cock swelled and jumped inside her, his balls tightening as if he was going to come, but her grip wouldn’t allow it. His entire body quivered, helpless to do more than surge upward in wild abandon. More, more, more. He wanted this woman harder, deeper. Fuck, it was all too much; his head pounded as hard as his cock.

  “Do you like that, baby? Am I making you feel good?”

  Did he say he was an all-powerful male? In the face of almighty woman, he was nothing. He was merely putty in her hands. What had made him think he was in any way in charge? His dick was firmly implanted in the tightest, hottest, juiciest pussy on earth. The three things shouldn’t go together, but yet here he was captive to the sucking pull her cunt had on his cock. All he could do was lay there and feel. His hips bucked involuntarily. Shit, he needed to come, wanted to come, but her grip on his balls wouldn’t allow it.

  This would not do. There was no guarantee he was ever going to get this chance again. As exquisite as it felt to have this goddess of a woman in total control, Donovan couldn’t allow it to end this soon. Closing his eyes against the steady barrage of sensations she inspired, he flipped her off him, his cock protesting as he wrenched it out of her smoldering pussy. Grasping Cha’Relle around the waist, he flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her up to her knees.

  “Do you like this?” he ground out as he thrust inside her without mercy from behind.

  “Yes!” The half scream, half groan was answer enough, but the way her cunt clamped down on him was beyond words.

  Like a man possessed, he slammed inside her, over and over again, moaning with abandon at the way she gripped him, hugged him. Sweat dripped from both their bodies, the rich aroma of unbridled lust heavy in the air. Donovan breathed it in, savored every sensation. The fervid need for release clawed up his back, strained his thighs, strangled his scrotum in impossible pressure. Just a little more...just a little...

  “Fuck!” Cha’Relle screamed, convulsing.

  Donovan felt her shudder around him, the molten
liquid of her orgasm so fucking hot, it felt as if it might melt the condom right off his dick. That was it—all he could take. He roared his release, forging forward with all his might. The cushion of her ass bounced him away only to welcome him back as she ground, slammed, retreated, and repeated until she had drained every last drop from him.

  Damn! This was a whole other world Donovan had never been privy to. The guilt he’d fully anticipated didn’t rush forth as he’d assumed it might after all was said and done. Not while Cha’Relle gently removed the condom, going into the bathroom and returning with a towel to gently wipe him clean. Not even when she placed a light kiss on his lips and gave him the sweetest, sad smile.

  “I guess you better go,” she whispered, running a manicured hand down his chest.

  Just a simple touch, but his ass clenched, every nerve suddenly alive and aching for her touch. This was no love connection; he wasn’t that naïve. However, there was something here, something that was decidedly absent in his own apartment. The thought of going home left him... Well, he felt nothing. No guilt, no sorrow—just not looking forward to it in general. He liked Mary, he realized, but love? His life was comfortable. Now, perhaps, he wasn’t looking for comfort. Maybe he wanted the hot and wild, not just the mellow and familiar.

  Either way, he had crossed a line, and he was going to have to tell Mary. That was something he did dread. Coming into Cha’Relle’s apartment had been a betrayal, but still he could not regret it.

  “I...” What could he say? He didn’t love her any more than she loved him. That was crazy. But he had enjoyed every second. Still, saying, “Hey, great fuck,” wasn’t exactly tasteful, was it?