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Sex on the Beach isn't just a drink!

For how long, she didn't care. Friday would be enough.

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Friday

(hers)

She awoke with a start, the buzzing in the pit of her stomach working better than any alarm clock. Her alarm was set so she would wake up with the gentle sounds of that jazzy club music he gave her. She could hear her mother bustling around upstairs. She was happy that her mom had chosen this week to drive out east to visit her sister and her kids. She would be leaving soon, and then she could get to work, getting the things he had asked for.

There was a knock at the door. "Yes?"

The door opened. "I'm leaving now. There's a casserole for tonight, some frozen stuff for lunch, and I left a couple of pizzas in the freezer if Alkie comes over. No more than four people are in this house while I'm gone, OK? C'mon, give mom a hug."

She bounded out of bed, and gave her mother a real hug, and said "Mom, have a safe trip, and I'll miss you. Tell Aunt Sarah I said Hi."

"OK, hon, I'll see you next week, I love you." With a kiss on the cheek, she was gone.

She stood and stretched, padded into the bathroom. After splashing some water on her face, she stepped into the shower and turned it on. She had been thinking about this day off and on for the last week, but it wasn't until her mother left that she let herself change into an incorrigible slut, a goddamn nympho. All she wanted was the cock, and she damn well would get it , no matter what she had to do. The thought of his black, curved cock flashed across his mind and she instinctively pushed a soapy hand down to her clit and began to rub herself. The thought of her kneeling at her black cock master's side was going to be her undoing. As she relived the passion of a week ago, both of her hands went to work on her pussy, the slick surface becoming even slicker. She grabbed her right nipple and squeezed as she plunged two fingers into her snatch. Her orgasm had her throwing the water off in sheets. With the tremors still subsiding , she turned the water on warmer, and washed vigorously, shaving her legs and pussy and washing her hair. She liked her pussy shaved. She liked the way it felt against her underwear when she wore it, and didn't want any hair to be in the way when she got someone to give her head. After exiting the shower, she moisturized her whole body, paying special attention to trimming her nails. After one last check for some non-existent pussy funk, she laid out the underwear he had requested. He had left the color up to her, but he said a thong, so she laid out three of them, looked at them for awhile, and decided that the best one was in fact the one she had paid the least money for. She put it and a bra where the cats couldn't get to them, and a thought struck her. She figured out a way to show her black man that she was indeed a white bitch who deserved black cock. She yanked on some cotton panties and a bra (She hated them. Being blessed with small breasts made wearing bras uncomfortable, and occasionally irrelevant, but when going out to shop, she didn't want to draw any attention) and made a list in unusually small handwriting:

1. Call L.A. to score some weed

2. Go to the gas station

3. Go to Wal-Mart, Target, see if I can find a cooler thong

4. Buy a cheap t-shirt and a sharpie...

She thought that was it, but remembered that she wanted to buy the blunts and get them home before buying the weed. Security was a bitch sometimes. She looked at the clock. Ten a.m. was late enough to call L.A. , her preferred weed man. L.A. was a bartender downtown, and didn't work Thursday nights. She picked up her phone and dialed. Ring.....ring....ring....

"Hello?"

"Hey, what's up Angel-Man?"

"Hey, girl. What the haps?"

"Nada mucho. I got a hot date, though. I was wondering if you could put something together for me."

She heard him cough, then heard a slu

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