Trapped In The Closet

Curfew isn't until midnight. Clueless about the time, I walk the princess to my bedroom. I don't turn on the light, but go directly to the window to open the blinds. Only the lights from the quad illuminate the space.

I'm a visual creature, wanting to drink in every inch of this luscious humanoid. I sit on the bed, she stands between my legs. Lettie hugs my head. I bury my face into her trembling tummy. Her aroma is intoxicating.

The apartment went from as loud as Death Valley on a Saturday afternoon, to as quiet as the campus library on a chilly Sunday morning. I can hear her breaths. She slowly backs away, we hold hands until she is out my reach.

The Creole Princess unzips her dress and steps out of the Spandex. Arletta reveals a black lacy bra with matching panties, the boy shorts design. Her heels are still on and she remains unsteady.

I chuckle at her clumsiness. She is so adorable.

"Do you mind?" She asks. Pointing at her heels.

"Do you, baby." I reply.

She kicks one off. I duck, just in time. Lettie puts both her hands over her mouth in shock at almost decapitating her lover. She coyly slips off the other heel and starts to stride towards me.

I stop her. "Wait, come slowly baby." She giggles. Fidgets with her hands not knowing where to place them.

"Turn slowly for me, beautiful. I want to remember every inch of you."

My Princess turns revealing her gorgeous backside. Her hair falls just below her shoulders. Running her hands through those silky locks. She has a perfect mole in the center of her back.

Her panties have climbed into a beautiful resting place deep in the crease of her fabulous fanny. I want to pull them out with my teeth.

"Mr. Kincaid, do you see something you like?" She asks.

"L E T T I E". I slowly spell her name. The slutty preacher's daughter walks to my personal space, motioning me to stand. The vixen helps me with my tee shirt and unbuckles my trousers.

I step out of them. She motions me to sit and takes my face in her hands and starts passionately kissing. I pull her close, popping the clasp of her bra and begin licking her nipples.

Arletta is softly moaning while hugging my neck. I make my way to the right one; sucking and biting. She gasps.

While massaging her bottom, I slide off her panties. I stand to ditch my boxers. We slide onto the bed.

Lettie mounts my torso and delicately handles my manhood. Working it outside her love vessel. As her moisture builds she works it inside. I gasp.

"Don't move sweetie." She says.

Her hands are cupped around my neck. Her head tilted back, revealing her long supple neck. She finds her rhythm and starts to move up and down. Grinding back and forth; forth and back.

She is moaning louder and louder with each grind of her hips. Sweat is falling off the both of us. Her eyes closed, but I refused to shut mine, the view too extraordinary to miss.

Arletta tells me she's cumming. I then do my go to move that assures to drain all her womanly fluids.

I reach around grabbing a handful of ass, taking my middle finger and working as far as possible to the depths of her asshole.

Her blood curdling screams: Rick opens the door to see what's the commotion and immediately closes it. We both reach our destiny simultaneously.

My Creole Princess is squeezing me so tight I can barely move. How can this 120 pound beauty be so strong? She finally releases her vice grip and collapses on top of me. Lettie offer one last exhale.

"I never do that. You had me so caught up in your fire. How did you do it?" She whispers.

"What, darlin?" I ask.

"Make all my clothes fall off." She immediately laughs at her own suggestion.

"I don't understand it either. It's as if we've known each other our entire life." I say.

Arletta is resting her head on my chest. I play with her hair.

"Tim, what do you want in life?" She asks.

I think for a moment. "What we all want. Someone to love unconditionally. A lady who cries tears of pain when I leave and tears of joy upon my return. What about you?" I ask.

"A godly man that makes my heart skip a beat. He knows when to be sweet and treats me like a goddess and also knows when I need it rough like his Jezzabelle." She replies.

She looks up at me. "If I gave you one wish, what would it be?"

"To spend eternity kissing your lips and making love to you."

"Aww how sweet. You know how to make a girl feel special."

I feel her body getting warm, ready for a second round when Rick screams: "Coach is coming for a bed check, he is next door!"

"I guess I will just leave." Arletta says.

"Please don't leave me. Don't ever leave me."

She laughs. "Since you put it that way. Hide me." She says.

"The closet!"

Lettie gets her panties, as she rushes to put them on, the sweetheart tumbles to the carpet. She is on her bottom facing me with a cute pout. I smile and immediately retrieve my boxers, sliding them on.

Help the princess off her fanny; panties in hand. I usher her to the closet.

Oh god, her dress, bra and heels. I hear a knock at the door as I scoop up the dress, bra and heels.

On cue she opens the closet door, I toss in her clothes. She quietly closes the closet door as my room door opens.

"Kincaid, you decent." Coach asks.

"Coach, you know I don't have a decent bone in my body." I reply.

"I understand, you've got them all fooled with your choir boy persona. Including my wife and daughter."

"Aww, please tell them both I love them."

"Finish whatever you are doing and get some rest. We are expecting big things tomorrow night."

"Ok Coach. Love you." I reply.

"Grrrr…"

I walk out to make sure Coach is secure in his Caddy. I return to the apartment and go straight to the closet. There I find a crumpled dress and panties, but no Princess.

I hear someone clear their throat. She appears like some Houdini magic trick. The Creole Princess is standing in the doorway with her birthday suit and heels.

"You heard the man, Timmy. Finish what you were doing."

Arletta has her arms spread, hands touching each side of the doorway. I take a moment to admire: the mischievous Mona Lisa smile, Venus di Milo womanly figure and her sultry sexy New Orleans Creole accent.

The image I will take to my death bed. I walk to her personal space, taking off my African necklace and placing it around the neck of a Goddess. I gently kiss her neck.

"For my Princess." I say.

I never listened to Coach, except on this rare occasion…well the finishing part. My Creole Princess and I keep finishing and starting; starting and finishing all night, til the break of dawn.

My cock spent the night inside the womb of a Princess. The Gamecocks don't stand a chance.