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Subject: Title story: "Voodoo queen" Author: Black Meat 126555666
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Date: Mon, 31 Dec 2007 00:50:21 +0000
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Mark walked through the madness of Bourbon Street Saturday night sober. He'd
been trying for a week to get an interview with Queen Etonne for his New Orleans
voodoo piece. Tonight his phone had rung, her rich Creole voice asked him to
arrive at her shop at 11:30PM. Her shop was a local tourist trap. Though it had
her name in the window, she was rarely seen there. When she was seen, she was
remembered. She was a tall black woman with chiseled features and a slinky body.
Most people took her to be in her thirties though dark rumors hinted she was
much older.
When he finally made his way through the loud, swaying and swerving crowd to the
shop, he noticed it was closed. He rang the bell on the door, moments later he
heard the lock unclick. Leaving the madness of the crowd behind him, he walked
into the darkened store. He heard the door lock behind him. There were strange
shadows on the wall. Mark saw a dim light in the back of the room and heard
Queen Etonne's black velvet voice.
"You are on time," she said, "Please, join me in my quarters."
He wandered back towards the dim light and found a stairwell with a single
purple candle burning. Her voice sounded in his ear as if she was standing right
beside him.
"Upstairs, please."
He walked up the creaky staircase and turned the handle to the door at the top
of the stairs. Despite the warm day, a fire blazed in the fireplace. There was
no other light. He moved toward the fire. Entering the room he spotted the
legendary black queen lounging on a white leather coach. She was wearing a red
dress, her dark hair hung down to her waist, shadows from the firelight danced
on her dark skin. Her thick lips smiled as she rose to greet him.
"You have arrived skeptical. You will leave a believer, though I doubt you will
use much that you are about to learn in your article." Her deep laugh vibrated
in the room.
Mark stared at her. The low cut of her red dress barely contained her smooth,
ripe breasts. She moved like a panther, her wondrous ass rippling in her tight
dress. Her light green eyes seemed to have flecks of gold within them. He sat
down on a plush chair, opened his notebook and tried to concentrate on his job.
"People say you have great power," he said.
"Some people know, some people just say," she responded.
"Let me put it another way," he said trying not to notice her body standing near
his chair. "Do you claim to have great power?"
"I have no need to claim," she said, "What be mine, be mine."
This wasn't going very well, Mark thought, the woman is talking in circles and
her thick spicy perfume was making it difficult to focus. He shook his head in
an attempt to clear it.
"Oh, white Mark man, you doubt me?"
"No," he said, "I was just..."
"You were just nothing," she spat. Her mood suddenly turned and she smiled. Her
bright white teeth shining in contrast to her dark skin. Mark watched her butt
wiggle as she walked to the leather couch. She picked up a stick doll that had
been lying there and whispered a few words to it. Then she looked up at him with
a wide grin on her beautiful face.
"I believe," she said, "A pleasant demonstration is in order. You are most
attractive for a white boy."
He watched her long dark figures begin to rub between the legs of the stick
finger in her hands. He felt those same fingers in his pants, on his cock.
They were warm and smooth against the white skin of his dick, they were urging
on his erection, they were lightly caressing his balls. Mark knew she was ten
feet away. His rigid dick knew she had wrapped her gentle hand around his
rigid shaft. He watch her sitting on the white leather couch, lightly stroking
the stick figure as she spoke to it too softly for him to make out the words.
An invisible hand was jerking off his cock, he squirmed with pleasure and his
hips began to buck. After a few moments of exquisite pleasure the hand
stopped, he could not longer feel its warm, wonderful touch. He heard the
queen's booming laugh.
"Not so fast, Mr. Mark, I wish to share in your good fortune."
Queen Etonne stood up from the couch and stepped out of her dress. She was naked
underneath. Her black body looked shiny in the firelight. It rippled as she
walked towards him, her firm breasts swayed a little with the sensuous motion of
her strut. There was no pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. The black slit
seemed to emanate power and lust. She looked down and him with her shining green-
gold eyes, smiled and raised one eyebrow. Mark dropped his trousers, the veins
on his hard dick seemed to be throbbing. Queen Etonne pulled his shirt over his
head and threw it in a corner. Still standing above him, her big, brown nipples
almost in his eyes, she sucked air through her thick black lips. His cock
believed it was receiving an intense and powerful blowjob. Mark began to thrash
on the chair, deep groans of lust were coming from his open mouth.
She lowered her smooth black pussy down on his pulsing erection. His hard dick
was enveloped ...
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