Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 Read Online Free PDF Page B

black siren, nearly six feet tall, glided into the room. The air was charged with testosterone as every man became aware of her presence.
    “Hope I’m not too late,” she purred.
    Oh, God, her voice. It was like liquid, falling off her tongue to spill its way around the room. Every eye was on her. John, the director, seemed to have lost his ability to speak. He was always in control, and this was the only time I’d ever seen him react this way. He was speechless.
    Finally, he found his voice. “Ah, yes, name, please.”
    “My real name or my stage name, darling?” she asked, advancing on him like a predator about to devour its prey.
    He actually stepped back a fraction as she approached. She towered over him. He stood there, potbellied, balding, his mouth open.
    “Delight. It’s both my stage and real name. I have nothing to hide and I’m proud of who I am,” she said.
    “I’m sure you are,” John said, and then with more assertiveness, “perhaps you’d like to show us your stuff.”
    Show us your stuff. Couldn’t he have thought of something more professional to say? He sat on his director’s chair and I began to roll the film. To say she knew how to work the cameras was an understatement. She was born for it.
    She began by shaking out her thick black hair. It fluffed up around her face, softening her already beautiful features. It was as though I had a dimmer on my lens—everything else around her just faded out.
    Then she was kicking off her shoes and peeling out of her skin-tight leather trousers. They were bright yellow and as she inched them over her gorgeous ebony backside I saw she was wearing a matching G-string. She kicked the trousers off her feet, licked her lips, and smiled at me.
    Giggling, she turned around, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and peered coquettishly through her dark black lashes at the camera. Her smoky eyes bored into mine as she pointed that sexy butt straight at me, bending over to run her hands slowly up from her ankles to her hips. She turned; her hands skimming over her flat, taut stomach before she played with the front of the G-string, pulling it down a fraction as though beckoning us to take a peek.
    Man, was she hot!
    Her shirt was also skin-tight and yellow, her huge breasts practically spilling out, her cleavage straining against the buttons as they threatened to burst forth. Her white painted fingernails toyed with each button before unfastening them. The whole time she didn’t take her eyes off the camera, licking her top lip with thetip of her pointy wet tongue. Man, did she have sex appeal. No one in the room spoke; we were frightened we’d break the spell.
    Finally, opening the shirt, she flashed her breasts at us, wiggling them before closing the shirt again. She teased us for a while before she slipped it off her shoulders and allowed it to rest at her elbows. With her arms pulled slightly back, her melon-like breasts jutted forward, her dark nipples only just visible under the lace bra as she paraded around the room.
    Dropping the shirt to the floor, she sashayed away from me. This beautiful goddess sauntered to the doorway. She turned, flicked her hair back, and then grabbed hold of the door jamb. With her honey-toned legs spread, she lowered her body until her pussy was nearly on the floor. What flexibility. Up and down she rode the frame, letting go with one hand to suck on her middle finger.
    With her red lips pouting, she trailed that finger down her neck, over her voluptuous breasts, and into her bra. She let out a soft moan as she pinched her own nipple before continuing on to her G-string, where she taunted us further by slipping her hand in to cup her own pussy.
    “Hmm, very nice,” she breathed, nostrils flaring as though aware of the fragrance of her scent. “Very nice.”
    I caught myself holding my breath as my own pussy began to throb. She was walking toward me now, coming closer and closer. I zoomed in on her amazing breasts.
    “You