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About book -Sensual Noir/Romance/Erotic Intrigue
Sheryl Banks started this diary of …(well, she doesn’t know yet, LOL). She just knows she has this fascination about being wickedly sensual all the time.
Join her to find what every woman wants: a man. A good man!
Her life isn’t that exciting, but she thinks it’s sure to keep you on your toes.
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Entry Five
(Yawning)
I went and met Mackeroy Jackson, feeling very confident that I could sway him to choose our company. I wasn’t a sales associate, but I knew Peter wouldn’t send me if there were financial negotiations involved.
Most likely this was an old white man just undecided and needing a little convincing.
The host led me to a table, where there sat this guy about six feet in height, wide shoulders, light chocolate skin and a head of red hair, which was very rare for a black man. Mackeroy Jackson was far from white.
When he stood up, I was even more aghast or more like turned on at the most handsome man I had ever met.
I said his name hesitantly to make sure I was not addressing maybe his assistant. When he shook my hand, looking just as wary, I said, “That’s a strange name.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But Peter is a strange name for a woman.”
I blushed furiously. “I apologize. I thought the assistant or Peter had informed you that Peter’s wife went into labor and he asked me to come because he didn’t want to cancel. I’m Sheryl Banks.” I handed him a business card with my title and contact information on it.
Mackeroy looked very impressed. “Lovely name for a lovely woman,” he said, kissing those thick pink lips against my knuckles. Then he waved the host away to help me sit.
When he sat across from me, we ordered drinks and then met each other’s eyes. I was feeling warm all over. He had this sultry, sensuous stare that made me flush from my head to my toes.
Dammit! I have to change my underwear yet again.
Pushing away my sexual need, I began to focus on business. I answered all of his questions along with relaxing conversation. I garnered a few things about him in the process. He was thirty-six, president of his family’s business, divorced, with two children – one of which was heading to college in a couple of years (he said this gratefully).
We laughed and I found myself very attracted to this man. When our dinner was over, I knew I had to get back to the office. But I could tell he didn’t want me to leave, so I called the office and asked Lisa to adjust some conference calls and a late appointment.
“A man named Mr. Patrick called,” Lisa said. “He said he was referred to you by your business card.”
I frowned, not really catching the name. “Can you forward his information to my palm?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After I hung up, Mack asked while licking his lips hungrily, “You didn’t move your schedule around for me, did you?”
“That depends. I don’t mix business with pleasure, Mr. Jackson.”
“So when do you get off work?”
I laughed, loving his teasing nature. “That all depends on when you are finished with business.”
He checked his watch. “Let me make some calls and refresh myself. I can meet you outside in a couple of minutes.”
“Should I call my company car to pick me up?”
“No. I could take you back to your office. If you don’t mind?” His eyes danced.
I nodded, feeling the moisture increase between my thighs.
When he left the table, I signed the receipt and then went to the bathroom to refresh myself. I didn’t know what to expect from him and I was almost nervous.
He was fine! Past fine and damn if he wasn’t overly successful. I’d love to have him wrapped around my finger.
I stepped outside a few moments before him. His gray Benz limousine pulled up and we sat in the back. Soon as the door closed, Mack asked, “Since you don’t mix business with pleasure, I assume kissing you would be crossing the line?”
“It would be,” I said, smiling mischievously. “If it meant kissing you would garner that account our company wants.”
“I was going to give you the account because you’re damn smart and because if Earl has a team of you, then I know I’m in good hands. Kissing me would have nothing to do with the decision I make concerning your company.”
I liked that response.
Leaning over, I kissed him with so much passion that even I was amazed. Yeah, I was definitely turned on.
He pulled me into his lap to straddle his waist as our tongues circled each other. I tilted my head to feel more of his ravaging my mouth. One moment I thought the breath was being sucked out of me. The next moment I was breathing in too much air.
He was touching my body, revving me up some more. I wanted whatever he had to offer.
Somehow we maneuvered our clothes out the way. Then there was nothing between my heaven and his shaft to impale inside of me, except a rubber. I was glad he had one, because I had not brought any with me.
It was feeling glorious. Or was it just the need to release a lot of sexual tension? Either way, I was a sex vixen, riding his thick rod like I hadn’t had dick for centuries. I think I came when he first entered me. My muscles clasped around him so tight that he cursed like I was choking the life out of him.
“Damn sweetness,” he hissed, sweating and breathing heavily. “Oh shit!”
I like it when they talk.
I rode him real good, feeling my thick juices coat him, loving the friction our bodies made. I vibrated repeatedly as I orgasmed multiple times all over his manhood.
He threw his head back, clutched my waist and held me close. “Oh damn, Sheryl. Oh damn!”
Mack’s fat nine inches pulsed deep within me. We shuddered together. Yeah! It was good, right, and I didn’t regret it one bit.
When our breathing calmed down, he whispered in my ear, “When can I have some more?”
I giggled because I was thinking the same thing.
Diary Of A… (c) Sylvia Hubbard. All Rights Reserved 2010 | Published by HubBooks
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