A.D.I.D.A.S.

The real allure of cunnilingus is power.

I have literally controlled women's joy at times, falling into an ebb and flow of teasing and pleasing. Rocking the little man in the boat literally if you will.

Pardon the pun but it is quite the heady experience both figuratively and literally.

I've never had any fear about doing it nor had I any cultural reservations either. There is that myth that black men don't do it but for me it wasn't even that. It would not be until later in life that I would find out about that stereotype.

In any case, this passage isn't about that.

They say if a woman can give great head she can get anything she wants. In some aspects this holds true on my end.

I can say with all honesty that once I've licked, sucked, and nibbled on a woman in that fashion, I've never had any complaints. Always I get that second, third, and fourth invitation.

And what makes it so bad, is that I'm quite addicted to doing it.

You never know a woman truly until you taste her. I was told that long ago by a woman much wiser than I. Of course like all lessons in my youth, at the time I had no idea what she was talking about. That was partly because she was taking advantage of my burgeoning oral habit so to speak. Even so, the feel of her quivering thighs against my cheeks and the taste of her pleasure was of far too much import for me to worry about such philosophy. I loved eating pussy. Still do. Always will.

Now if a woman says something to that affect, there would be know end to the men that would satisfy her habit. Men are men. Sex for us is pretty linear. I would even say boring. I'm more into the pleasure of sex not the goal. That's why I like doing what I do. Strangely know line though.

I'm in the mood to lick a woman in the worst of ways. Sadly no one takes advantage of that.

Quickie

"You're not with anybody right?"

I should have said no but she was nuzzling my neck when she asked me this. Her breath was hot. Her hands on my bare thigh running dangerously under the dress that common sense told me not to wear. There was only the lamp on and nothing else. I had been set up but then again, I sort of knew I was.

My mind said no but my lips said, "No. Not really."

"For real, for real?" She breathed A soft kiss with a little tongue. Her hand moved under my skirt, teasing the outline of my panties. I didn't want to melt. I didn't want my knees to come apart. I didn't want to betray him. Am I? I thought. Would he really mind? I don't think he would mind...


Then she kissed me. It was shy at first which was so unlike her, like she was afraid to take more from me without my permission. It was too endearing for me not to respond to it. I reached for her, brought her close, inhaled the scent of cologne and fresh soap.

I wasn't cheating on him. That's what I told myself.

____

"White girl wasted. Its such an ignorant term and terribly racist."

"Like you ain't never get wasted like a white girl."

"I don't even know how Caucasian women get wasted  I mean-shit-goddammit!."

"You suck at this game. Why the fuck did you buy it?"

"Because you keep complaining about me only bringing over Japanese shit."

It was like the eighth or so time of me fucking him up in some Modern Warfare.  I shoulda brought the game myself but I guilted his ass into getting it for me since we ain't been hanging out too tough in the last three months. I'm pretending that shit don't bother me, you know, playing it chill but it does and be damn if I'm not gonna find out why. He's got cottonmouth so of course he's in my fridge without my permission. "Bring me a soda since you stealing shit you thirsty ass nigga."

"You really ought to drink more water and juice." This nigga amazes me sometimes I swear to God. Its like he forgets that he's black or at the least what a black guy is supposed to be. Jean shorts, a black shirt with THINK on the top of a box and Vanz, fuckin' Vanz. The nigga don't even skate. "Soda is hella bad for you. You'll be a diabetic if you keep that shit up."

Who the fuck says hella? "So you doctor-fuckin'-Oz now nigga?" He shoves a Minute Maid in my hand rolling his eyes. Sometimes he act like my damn daddy sometimes...and I hate the fact that I kinda like that shit-that I kinda like him but by definition, a dyke ain't supposed to be after dick and definitely not whoever's attached to it.

Confusion. This mufucka just fucks me up.

"Defensive much Nino? I'm just offering you some helpful advice." He plops down on the sofa with a space between us. In our routine of shootin' the shit and fuckin' each other's brain's out, we're usually next to each other by now. I'm fuckin' blazed out my brain with some pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, a guaranteed signal that I wanna be fucked and this nigga is ignoring me. He takes a pull of the blunt, ashes in the tray and passes it to me. "Fuck I'm high."

"That's the point bitch."

"Ah how I miss being belittled in casual conversation. How do I get along without you?"

"That's a good fucking question." I didn't mean to say it like that but fuck it I'm mad and horny and just don't give a damn. He picks up my X-Box controller and examines that shit like a rubix cube. Eventually though, he man's the fuck up and looks me in the eye because he wouldn't be my nigga if he didn't. "I'm dating someone."

"Who?" Didn't mean to say that shit either but I'm on a goddamn roll.

"Rosalina. You know the girl from chemicals?"

I nod and drink some of my lemonade before I say something else that's gonna make me look like a pussy but  even that's not enough so I get up and start cutting on the lights in the kitchen and shit because its obvious that I don't need it to be dark in here since we ain't gonna fuck. "You want something to eat?"

"Are we straight?" Tall, gray haired, nerdy, geeky, lame, sexy, big dick mufucka! Fuck no we ain't straight! How the fuck is we straight when you fuckin' dating the bitch that was on my clit when she was dating little-dick-ass Pito?! And the bitch ain't even tell you!

He comes up behind me and touches me on the shoulder and I shrink away from his ass. "I don't need that shit." I'm taking shit out the fridge and don't even know what the fuck I'ma do with it feelin' stupid as hell and being pissed at myself for feelin' this way.

"Nino-"

"Why?" Fuck I'm too high and I'm crampin' and I'm all emotional and shit. I just can't stop myself from fuckin' up. I want the nigga to tell me he jokin'. I want to get some dick before this period comes down. "What you wifin' bitches up suddenly?" I'm not looking at him but I don't have to. He sighs and gets quiet like he ran a marathon and is just catching his breath.

"I'm tired. I'm just-I don't want to fuck a different woman every couple of weeks. I don't want random sex. I want-I want someone to hold when I'm sleeping. I want someone who likes the shit and gets along with me. I'm tired of being alone."

"So you turnin' ya playa card in?" My hands go for cooking oil and the chicken nuggets even though I feel like exploding and callin' that two-faced bitch Rosa and tellin' her about herself. She only started fuckin' with him after I talked about his ass and even when she actually did, she turned around and was fuckin' me. And she got the nerve not to even tell him she did because if she had, he would let me know about it. Shit, he confirmed that I had fucked Laquina. Regret that shit but I did it.

"I'm not saying that. This is just working for me right now you know?" I can feel his eyes, hear the way he sighs and I know he wants to hold me and fuck me and tell me that he's just doin' him but he can't because he's being loyal.

I get my shit together and turn around to look at him. He got that lump in his pants but he's being cool so I'ma be cool. "You can watch this shit why I get online and kill people who know how to play this game."

"I hate FPSes." He sounds relieved. He starts taking out other shit to cook as our ritual goes. "You know that."

"So you don't mind me keepin' this shit then?"

____

She was in red Cardinal's fitted with a matching Polo shirt, crisp dark blue jeans and blinding white Keds. She didn't sneak up on me at work so much as swaggered until I couldn't help but notice her.

I should've known something was wrong then.

Nino dressed so clean that Pito even took tips from her. From the way she wore her shades to her immaculate fade, Nino had been sexy as hell to me. She was friends with Pito in the Automotive department so whenever I hung out with him, I'd inevitably be within her gravity.

I had heard things about her around the store. The way Laquina was saying it, she was turning out girls left and right. Straight girls. Tall girls. Pretty girls. White girls. Any girl.

On some level, I had hoped that she would do the same with me though I was dating Pito. Maybe she realized that or maybe she was just being Nino but every time she was around me, she'd making comments about my ass or how pretty I was or how pretty my skin was and Pito, ever the typical man, was happy that a lesbian was complimenting his girl, unaware that I valued her compliments above his.

Then one night, we came from a club too drunk and too blazed to keep any of our inhibitions in check. Before I knew it, I was making out with Nino in the backseat of Pito's Acura, her hand in my pants as Pito said over and over how hot this shit was. When we got to his house, he watched as she took advantage of me, all the while Pito jacking his dick in the shadows. The way she probed me with her fingers, sucked my nipples, and ate my pussy made me wish to God that Pito wouldn't interfere, that he would just let her have me, that maybe he'd just disappear all together. Before I knew it we were making it a regular thing, that is, until it was a twosome and not a threesome. After a while, she stopped calling for whatever reason and I realized that dick or no, a womanizer was a womanizer but still...

My first experience with a woman and I was hooked, for awhile at least. Now I was with Silver though and Nino was in the past. After catching up a bit and her telling me about her new job she asked me what I was doing after work. I should've said I was busy.

_______

I had that bitch wrapped around my finger soon as I stepped to her.

Fuckin' loose pussy ho. She just as uppity and stupid as her sisters. No wonder I fucked all three of 'em; I just added her to the set. Actin' all shy and shit. I don't know Nino. I've gotta lot of stuff to do. But the bitch lookin' me up and down, knowing I'm lookin' sharp, knowin' I'm tryna get up in her ass, frontin' like she might not go though she want to.

This the bitch he choose over me? No fucking loyalty.

I pick the bitch up around seven. She tells me she's got the confidence to wear dresses now so I tell her to put on something cute. She comes out this yellow joint that barely comes over her knees with these sexy as sandals with straps, toes painted the same color, thighs thick as hell. I got to admit, the ginger bitch look good with her freckles and her short ass hair. I know I'm about to do what I'm about to do but fuck if I ain't gonna enjoy it.

First thing I do off rip is get that bitch high with-get this-some of the same shit Silver left me with. That shoulda  tipped her flaw ass off right then but it don't 'cause this ho dumb as shit and don't know her weed. We fog up the whip with two blunts back to back then I roll the windows down, spray a little, and head down 17-92 to Sergio's to feed and liquor her ass up. By the time we get back to her crib, her ass is throwed the fuck off.

It don't take much convincing to get her upstairs. She too drunk to drive, wobbling and shit, giggling, face all red. She and I both know she ready to fuck but that don't stop her from going through the door. I look over my shoulder and make sure my neighbors ain't peepin' in on me.

She already on the couch damn near sleep, not seeing the little camcorder I got hidden in the book on the shelf. I gotta go an turn that mufucka on the sly. At first I'm thinking, damn this bitch gonna find me out but no, she mumbling about not being responsible or some shit. The lens is black and the light is covered by the spine plus the all the lights are off accept the lamp and the T.V. So she shouldn't see a thing.

"So how you feelin' mami?" I sit down next to her with my arm around her shoulders. I'm tracing her freckles and I feel her tense for a second just to relax and laugh. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Everything is fine." She's giggling with her eyes closed and I know I'm gonna get her...

And sure enough, I got my fingers in her pussy and she wet as fuck. Sexy, decietful  bitch. Just like Plies said, pussy smell like water, dripping all over my couch. Her skin doesn't smell like perfume or nothing, just soap and water like she just got out the shower.

Now I remember why I took her ass from Pito in the first place and now I'm taking her from Silver.

I think about stopping because I know this is gonna hurt him but we boys and this here is a hoe. A thick, pretty, freaky ass hoe but still a hoe. She's squirming and moaning no as her creamy thighs spread and her dress comes up those hips. I lick on her neck, tasting that freshness as I ease that strap down her shoulder. Her arms comes through automatically.

Fucking turncoat bitch.

The nipple ring is new, a little silver stud that makes her it look that much pinker. I lick and tease just the same. "Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." she says over and over until I feel her pussy start to tighten. That's why I'm glad I got big hands; I'm rubbing that spot with no problem.

"Uh uh." I whisper. "Don't fuckin' run now." Her hips lift up off that couch. She digging her nails in my arm. Her eyes flutter and she bites her lip.

"Shit...I-uh-shit-"

"You know you wanna cum."

"No-I-" I pull on her stud a little with my teeth and cut her ass off. Her pussy is juicy as fuck and I can't even help it. I get on my knees and start licking that clit, three fingers deep. Rosa thighs snap shut around my face and I feel them shaking but I can't be stopped now. I gotta show to put on. "Same my name." I say in her pussy.

"Noooo!" My fingers are working. Goddamn she twisting and turning like i'm lighting her ass on fire. I got to hold her down with my free arm to keep her from wiggling away. Fuck her pussy taste good.

"Say it."

"I'm-no-I'm not-" I suck on that clit, press on the spot and then-"Niiiiinoooo! FUCK!" Rosa ain't skeeting but goddamn if my face and her thighs and greasy. I let her ass go. I got cream on my fingers, sticky and sweet like honey. I tell her to lick them clean and she does without a second thought, sucking them like a dick.

I fucking hate this triflin' bitch more than ever.

_______

The mpeg in the email was followed with "We're through."

It was obvious that Nino had set me up from the get go. She didn't appear out of nowhere after not talking to me for months just because. She had did so for the express purpose of ruining my relationship with Silver. So of course, I confronted her about it.

I called her and was as courteous as I could be even though I had been crying for a night or two by then. Sleep had not come easy. Work was terrible enough with him avoiding me and knowing that I should have known better was worse. It didn't matter though. I needed some closure somewhere.

"What it do?" She answered like everything was business as usual and I couldn't fucking help it.

"What the fuck Nino?! You recorded us fucking and sent it to his email?!" She laughed and that just infuriated me more. "This shit isn't funny! He forwarded me this grabage!"

"And?"

And? That's all she had to say to this? And? "Why the hell would you do this! He's your friend-"

"And you just some bitch."

"Bitch?!" I swear before almighty God it was like talking to Pito. She was just a guy without a dick. I was rocking with tears streaming down my eyes I was so angry. I was glad I was at my place, glad I was hiding in the darkness of my bedroom. I didn't want the world to see me lose my shit. "Don't fucking call me a bitch!"

Laughter, haughty and mocking, so like a guy. "I calls it like I sees mama. You with my boy for three months and just like that-" She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "-you fuckin' somebody else. That's what bitches and hoes do."

"Fuck you!" It sounded feeble when I said it and more so when she started to laugh. I was so angry I was shaking and rocking more.

"Nah mama, fuck yaself, you'll get that nut quicker."

"If I'd have fucked Silver instead of you, I'd have gotten it even quicker." I snapped my fingers for emphasis this time. "Just like that."

That got her mad. Her tone changed real quick. "Whatever you skeezy bitch. Wasn't saying that shit when you was screaming my name."

"Silver never has to ask me to scream."

"He won't be askin' you for shit now."

"Jealous bitch. A few fingers can't substitute a dick."

"Worked for yo stank ass."

"Not nearly." It was my turn to laugh but it didn't sound nearly as convincing. I was breaking up inside but I'd break her too. "Even you need dick now and then right?" No response, just really angry breathing. I'll take that. "That's what it really is, isn't? He wasn't fucking you and guess what you mannish bitch? He won't be askin' you for shit either!" I hung up before she could say anything and curl up into a ball, another night of crying and lack of sleep ahead of me.

Quickie

"Heeeemaaaay. Not hemi. Like, he may you know?"

Of course he knows. He has watched enough anime and read enough manga to know that the honorific means princess. He just wants her to scream her own name. He also knows that a Corona with lime isn't worth five-fifty. Import beer the small, bony bartender courtesy of the hotel called it though it clearly stated that it was bottled in Chicago on the label.

"I've got six names too. All women in my family. Its a thing from my mom's side of the family. Her grandma was Choctaw."

And her father is clearly Asian. He can only see it in her almond eyes however. Hime's hair he more attributes to her Native American ancestry. She doesn't have to say her father isn't in her life. It is the way she longs for masculine attention, working for it when it isn't easily given.

She saunters out onto the dance floor in a red dress and heels, her double-D chest spills out the top The bottom half barely covers her hips and ass. The ball room of the Rodeway Inn on I-Drive has been changed into a make-shift club for BBW admirers. There are multicolored strobe lights, music booming from speakers and a terrible DJ which, in his eyes, made it that much more authentic.

He asks himself why he's here in a moment of weakness and he lies. Says that he's looking for a pretty, thick gyal to slake his thirst but he knows he's running. He knows he's retreating into himself because facing the truth means he still cares for her even though she did what she did and his brittle pride can't allow for forgiveness.

Pride is all he has now.

Her friend is almost her antithesis physically. Dark skinned, short afro, taller but with hardly a shape. The quintessential less attractive friend. Not his type at all.

But he talks to her. Why he doesn't know. He's not attracted to her sexually and he has no intention of asking for her number.

He finds her interesting nonetheless. They talk about books which segues into a conversation about believable fantasy which leads into science fiction and ultimately her diagnosing his premature graying ( mineral deficiency perhaps? ). She has no interest in medicine but science fascinates her. He tells her he's into comics and that's he's working for these brothers with a fantasy novel. He doesn't realize when Hime returns. She's sweaty. The sort of sweaty that you know is because you've drunk more than you intended. She's smiling at him and then at Yelena as if she's just noticed that she was there. "The DJ is killing me with this house shit."

"If I had some glow sticks, you'd be alright." Yelena starts twirling her hands, dancing in her seat with a liquid rhythm, proving that she is very, very Jamaican. He laughs. Hime rolls her eyes, then burps and fans herself. "I should not have had that cake. Someone should have told me that dairy and liquor don't mix."

He doesn't know how dairy is in cake but he says, "I coulda told you that. Ever had a good experience with Kaluha?"

"I haven't. Katt Williams gave me the heads up on that."

He laughs. "'It should have occurred to me that this shit ain't supposed to go together.'" He and Yelena laugh. She slaps him playfully on the arm, her fingers long and modestly painted to match her tube top, dragging softly across his skin. Hime joins in the joke later before saying, "Ya'll are killing me. All you've done is talk since I've been trying to dance."

"You know what I dance to and its not that-whatever it is that's playing."

He knows how to get Hime. It was obvious before but now he can't ignore it. He tells himself that he's just getting what he wants, that there is nothing wrong in what he's doing. He knows its the second lie he has told himself tonight. "And what do you dance to?" He asks with a knowing smile turning all his attention to Yelena.

Yelena's not stupid. In fact, she smiles herself. It reminds him of his mother. Its wide enough to split her face length wise but relaxed enough to know she's in control of her mirth. Its completely islander.

He takes her by the hand without so much as a word, weaving through the tables with their guttering scented candles, and through the crowd, Hime's stare burning a hole in his button-down shirt. He yells to the DJ, a husky black fellow in desperate need of someone to re-plait his hair, to put on some reggae. What kind? Any will do he says.

Now Yelena wines against his crotch to Lady Saw and he responds in kind, moving his hips with her, surprised to feel himself stiffening against her non-existent posterior. They move with the familiarity of lovers, not casual strangers. Yelena leans back on him, pulls his hands down to her hips. He hooks his thumbs into the loops of her jeans and she slides her own hands across his.

The strobe lights move slower now, fading from one color to the other like neon horizons. Hime is sitting at the table watching them like a hawk. The hues play across her face turning it into a mood ring only its clear to him it should only be green.

Two more songs and then its salsa and bachata. Though he can dance passably to both, he takes a cue from Yelena and exits the dance floor. Hime intercepts them before they can back to the table. She fans herself before saying, "Ya'll made it hotter in here than it needed to be."

"Nah. That's the al-al-al-alcohol that got you sweating." Yelena's clearly elated. Clearly would like to get back to the table to talk. Hime knows this but asks, "You're not gonna dance with me Silver?"

"What?" He feigns not being able to hear her.

"I said, you're not dancing anymore?"

"Oh! Not to this." He laughs and shakes his head for emphasis. "Salsa isn't my strong suit."

"Let me teach you then. Yelena knows I can dance to this."

I'm sure she does, he thinks. She probably watches you while every Hispanic guy in the room tries to keep up with you. Its an mean spirited thought he knows but only because it rings with some truth. Attention. She expects it and when she doesn't get it freely, she works for it. He doesn't mind if she has to put in overtime. "Yeah. She can dance to this. I mean, I can too but its too fast for me." Yelena shakes her head, mopping the sweat on her brow with a kerchief. The no one ever asks me to part goes unspoken.

"I'ma sit this one out but hey, if I change my mind, I'll find you."

He wouldn't find her of course. That would defeat the purpose of initially rejecting her. Hime would put the moves on him. He'd be eating out of her hand and she'd be satisfied that she stole the attention of a man from her friend. He marveled at how evil women could be to each other.

They talk more. She is telling him how she is old fashioned. He tells her he respects that which is only half of a lie. He does respect it but that doesn't make her attractive at all. Old fashioned just means he'd have to make a commitment to bed her and no man wants that if he can help it, no matter how smart or pretty a woman was.

What he wants is Hime, the honey colored thick gyal who is dancing so hard that she has to constantly pull down the hem of her dress to keep from showing her business to the world. She is dancing alone on purpose until one of the go-go girls has no choice but to join her. Now there are two pleasantly plump women who are all hips and thighs, gyrating too fast for anyone to keep pace with them.

He keeps his attention on Yelena though. He glances only occasionally and only when Yelena isn't paying close attention to him. He can kill two birds with one stone this way.

When Hime comes back she is drenched in sweat with yet another drink in her hand. Yelena is telling him about her purposed trip to Spain which he actually is rather interested in. "Another drink Hime? You got any food on your stomach?"

"Yes Mother." She sits on the opposite side of him pulling up the strap on her dress while her and Yelena laugh at their private joke. He takes his cue. "Lemme guess, she keeps you out of trouble."

"That's my girl. My best friend." The irony of that statement is not lost to him, considering the situation. The DJ starts to play rap music, something with Nicki Minaj he thinks irritably.

"I will burn this bitch down about her." Yelena says before touching him on the shoulder. "But not you. I'd give you some warning."

"I'd hope so especially if I help with the kerosene."

"Seems only fair." Yelena laughs  He takes a sip of his Corona, now made tart by the lime as they both giggle. Yelena iss getting up to go to the dance floor but she doesn't get him to go with her. "Watch her." She says. "Make sure she can get to a bathroom if she throws up."

"I'm not gonna throw up." She burps and makes a face, making the statement invalid before Yelena leaves. Now it is their turn to talk. She tells him how she makes her own jewelry and sells it online, the ring with an amethyst being one of her on designs. She is also into antiquing online now, selling both domestically and internationally while going to school for international business. He can't help but be impressed. She asks if he is going to school. He tells her he is and about a few of things he is working on.

Then out of the blue she asks, "You like Yelena?"

He was waiting for this and his answer had been prepared appropriately. "She's a cool person."

"You asked for her number yet?" She is smiling by then and clearly three sheets to the wind. More rap music is playing, the bass thrumming in his blood. He looks for Yelena openly and finds her dancing with a man in an awful Seussian looking hat. It burns her and he knows it. "No. I haven't. You guys are from South Florida. Way too long distance for anything really."

"So you're what, being friendly?"

He smiles and shrugs. "I guess if that's what you want to call it." She chuckles then goes to pull down the front of her dress but thinks better of it. Instead she says, "'Scuse me for a second.", then fishes out a crackberry Torch from her too-small-to-be-practical purse and begins tapping out a message. He looks to Yelena and sees the glow of her cellphone screen. She types something back then Hime types something back and then Yelena types something again. When she catches him staring she says, "I'm sorry I'm being so rude but can you walk me back to our room? I think I might have to toss my cookies."


The first thing she does when she gets through the door is go into the bathroom.

He wants to sleep with Hime but not if she is throwing up. First it would make him feel more guilty than he already felt and secondly, he did not relish the idea of kissing someone with puke on their breath. All in all, he is about ready to leave and be done with the whole thing.

But he hasn't heard any heaving, only running water and when Hime comes out, she insists that he stay even when he tries to go.

There is only one bed in the room which immediately brings up questions about her and Yelena's sleeping arrangements and a chair which he takes in lieu of sitting on the bed next to her. She laying back on it giggling at first then realizes that her dress has rolled back to a scandalous degree but decides not to do anything about it and begins laughing more. Hime's panties don't match her dress. They are black and lacy. "You might as well look." She rolls the dress up even higher. "I'm tired of pulling this dress down."

"I'm sure the guys weren't." He certainly isn't.

She laughs giddily before sitting up again. Her legs are gorgeous. Shapely and fleshy in a succulent way. Hime sits like she doesn't know what a princess is. "Did I tell you there are swingers at this party?"

"No. Really?" He knows this but she seems surprised.

"Yes. Really. This one couple wanted to pay me five thousand to sleep with them." She clucks her tongue and wags her finger. "I turned them down. There's only one girl I've ever played with and I like to keep it that way."

Yelena. That had not been obvious though it should have been.. I will burn this bitch down about her. Suddenly the situation doesn't seem favorable to him. It could be bad. Very bad. The sort of bad he doesn't want to be an accomplice to. "Maybe I should go. Yelena might be worried."

"She's not. I texted her." Hime kicks off her shoes before padding towards him. "Since you're not going to come to me, I've gotta come to you, swaying and drunk and shit." He tries to get up and she pushes him down. "No. I've gotta come dance on you since you left me out there by myself."

Hime spreads his legs apart and begin grinding on him, nothing but her panties between him and naked skin. He has to resist grabbing her hips and reddening her cheeks with his palms. "Look Hime-"

"Shhh. This is my first time lap dancing for a guy. You're messing me up. You see I know how it works but I don't know if grind like this-" She wiggles against his crotch and his manhood responds before he can think. "or just clap it in front of you like this." Hime bends over, pulling her panties between her cheeks as they smash together. His mouth is watering. He wants to keep her this way and slide her panties down and-"Well you're doing a good job far as I can see." He chuckles. "But I ought to get going."

"Why? 'Lena will be here in a minute." She turns around giggling but he doesn't think this is funny. It is mean spirited and petty and he doesn't want any part of it.

"Hime. I don't what you're playing at-" he says as she gets on her knees. "but this isn't right." He puts his hands on her shoulders to stop her. She looks in his face and starts laughing, zipping down the front of his pants.

"Oh my God. You. Are too. Sweet."  She reaches inside and draws him out, half erect. "What do you think I was texting her about?" He feels dumb and it must have shown in his face. She is laughing again. "We're sharing you sweety. Swingers are at this party and Yelena-"

"-is the only girl you've played with." Now he feels stupid. Very stupid. Has being with her those few months really made him so dull? He feels her mouth, warm and wet, close around him, her tongue squirming. Hime moans like she was eating good food. Then she is slurping with her hands on his knees, gagging as his hands wormed in the top of her dress. He pinches and teases her nipples and she ummhmmmes, the vibration running through him. "You wanna see my titties around your dick?" She asks sliding the straps off the dress off her shoulders, a tattoo of Hello Kitty on her left breast. He pushes his dick between them and she spits on the head. "Yeah baby. Fuck my tits. I like that nasty shit."

He hardly hears the click of the bolt when Yelena comes in.

At first, he thinks that Hime might have lied. She stares at them both, cocking her head to one side as Hime's tongue flicks across his balls, the only light being the lamp at one end of the dresser. Then she smiles and says. "I told you he had a big dick." They both laugh.

"Girl I had to grind on it just to see if you were bullshitting me." She squeezes his dick before licking under the head making him shudder. "You ready to do this?"

"You look like you're ready." They hadn't asked him if he was ready. He surmises being hard is ready enough though.

"But are you ready bitch?" She squeezes him and strokes him watching Yelena and forgetting he is there. Yelena takes off her baby blue tube top revealing large melon breasts with darker nipples. She steps out her slides and goes over to them, bending to kiss him in the mouth.

She bites the bottom of his lips, darts her tongue in his mouth, moans as he pulls her nipple. Hime has started up again and he is groaning as well.

They make it to the bed and now he is tasting Yelena as she straddles his face. "Suck my pussy. Suck it. Ah. Suck it." She tastes sweet and she moves with that liquid rhythm back and forth, forcing him to hold her by her hips. He can hardly concentrate with Hime's impossibly warm mouth going up and down, her saliva dripping down the length of him. He manages though. Yelena is making noises. Grunts and oh shits as she tries to wrench from his grasp. He feels her lust dripping over his face.

"That shit looks so good..." He can't see Hime but he knows she stopped sucking him to watch Lena orgasm. He forces her to arch her back to give him room for his fingers. When they slide into her they squish loud enough for Hime to gasp in surprise. "Get her Silver." Her voice is a huskier whisper. She slaps Yelena hard on her ass making her yelp. "Make that pretty bitch cum." The weight of the bed shifts. Hime is behind Yelena. He can see from below that her hands are cupping her breast and teasing her nipples, her face buried in her neck. Yelena oohs and aahs, each sound climbing in octave.as her hips move faster until she shakes and yells. Now its Hime's turn. They are like night and day when they switch. Yelena is all throat but slower and more attentive while Hime rides his face greedily, moving even as she cums.

When he enters Yelena her tightness forces him to move slowly. She is as pink as cotton candy which contrast dramatically against her flawless ebony skin. Hime is multitasking, riding Yelena's face, rubbing her clit as he fucks her , and licking and kissing his face. When she starts to cum, she throws her head back. "Bite my nipples-ah-do that shit do that shit do that shit-Oh fuck!" He pushes deeper into Yelena. Hime forces her legs back and he pounds her fitting into the rhythm, his thumb flicking her clit. He can hear Yelena's muffled cries climb and climb. She seizes up hard enough to push him out.

"Shit." She whispers breathlessly. "Oh. Shit. What. The fuck. Was that?" Yelena laughs, her face wet. Hime laughs rolling off to one side of the bed with wobbly legs. He is surprised to find himself laughing as well.

"Girl I didn't know who was cumming and who wasn't." An arm is over Hime's face as she talks. "Oh my God. I knew we were gonna do this but I didn't know it was gonna be, you know, good." She points in his general direction and says. "And you didn't cum."

"He didn't?" Yelena looks at his erection. "You didn't."

He shrugs. "I didn't."

"Oh my God." Yelena says. "I'm halfway sleep already."

He smiles. Though he hasn't cum, the endorphin has him feeling light. Confident. The thoughts her are lost for the moment. Gone in a haze of sweat and carnality. He almost feels himself again though he questions exactly what that self is.

For tonight though, it makes no matter. "Tell me. Did you bring any toys?" Hime nods and laughs.

"Man I think we're gonna have to have your number."

Quickie

The first three days seemed to have been going well. He was nice. He was mixed black and white like her. He smiled at the right times and had his heart broken by some girl who left him for some psycho bodyguard. All in all, he was basically the mirror image of herself save for her two kids or so it seemed.

On the fourth date he stood her up. She didn't know how long she had to sit there at the bar looking stupid before she realized that. Perhaps it was the time when one of the scantily clad waitresses sweetly asked her if she had enough to drink.

Three appletinis and a Long Island later, she finally decided to text him. WHER R U she tapped angrily on her smart phone.  To which he replied ( in grammatically correct form ), THREE DATES AND NO SEX. I DIDN'T SEE THE POINT OF NUMBER FOUR WITH A WOMAN LIKE YOU. ONE OF THE WING HOUSE GIRLS MAYBE BUT AN UGLY FAT CHICK? PLEASE. HAHAHA. HOPE YOU ENJOY THE WINGS FATTY.

She knew she had flushed red, heat had crawled up her shoulders and she couldn't gulp down enough oxygen. She called him since she was too drunk and angry to type anything back. Her head was pounding by then and her eyes were getting blurry too but she told herself that they weren't tears. He didn't even let his phone ring. Straight to voicemail every time. She left the nastiest messages she could, each one with more vitriol than the last. She called him a faggot and a coward. She said his dick was small and that he was afraid to face her like a man. She called on the pay phone inside just to see if he'd pick up.

HAHAHA is what he texted in response after she heard the mocking voice of his voice mail again.

She slammed the phone harder than she was supposed to, drawing looks from the Wing House's denizens. She was sobbing she realized, crying like some little high school girl when she was a woman grown with two kids. She looked down at her freshly painted toes and her cute, spaghetti strapped heels as though they were made of bread baking through twine. Her reflection was no better. Too tall, stuffed in a black strapless dress but not looking so pretty in it with mascara running down her milk-in-coffee face. Chipmunk cheeks. They used to call her that back then which was a cute way of calling her fat.

Before one those pretty, skinny bitches could say anything, she stormed out. She had her dignity dammit. She'd still walk with her head high no matter what. She didn't though. The ground seemed safer to look at it.

"You look like you need a friend." said a voice. "And maybe a tissue but first things first." He was wearing khaki pants, sandals, and a shirt with some kind of Japanese cartoon character on it. She knew who he was before he gave her a tissue; the graying hair that was his namesake, the tall and lanky physique, not to mention the carefree attitude. He pressed the tissue into her palm and invited her to sit down at the table with him. It was drizzling outside and the wind that accompanied sprayed her with moisture but it wasn't unpleasant and neither was he.

He introduced himself as Silver and made a joke about the waitresses ( How do you let underweight women serve in a wing bar? Unrealistic if you ask me ). It was a bad joke but she laughed just the same. He ordered some wings and some water for her. She told him about Trevor and what he texted her ( Wow. They keep making douche bags shittier and more inventive ) even after she thought they had made a connection. To this, Silver laughed as he sucked teriyaki wing sauce off his fingers. That made her angry and she had to ask why it was so goddamn funny.

"Because you believed him Denise." He said chuckling. The barflies were thinning out. Closing time was upon them and the drizzle had turned into rain. Suddenly she felt melancholy.

She laughed too though , flexing her hands, glad that she wasn't as drunk. "And I shouldn't have?"

"Nope." He tore into his last wing.

"And why is that?"

He shrugged. "Men lie."  He went along chewing and tearing chicken flesh as if that were the end of it. The sad part was, it certainly felt that way to Denise. Men lie. Such a simple truth that had proven itself time and time again to be the truth. And yet... "So you're saying that shit is my fault?" Not as drunk as before but she could feel that liquid courage working. She had misjudged her sobriety. He smiled and it made her even more emboldened. "You're saying I shoulda expected that fuck face to do that?" He nodded. "Well explain that to me.because apparently my dumb ass can't see the forest for the trees."

Silver took a sip of his water then went for the customary baby wipes that accompany all wing meals. "Men lie in order to get what they want, which of course, is sex." He went over each finger with little attention never looking away from her. "Three dates. No sex. That's three instances of lying without any results. Which means-"

"I'm not a whore."

"-he was obviously not going to get what he wanted so there was no point of putting up with the charade of caring about your feelings." Denise was biting her lip, contemplating rather or not to punch him in the face but it wasn't Silver's face she was seeing, it was Trevor's, beautiful and wholly arrogant with the perpetual smugness of a man who knows women will always want him. Silver nodded to himself. "And here we come to the crux of the problem between our sexes."

He seemed to be able to make her angry on command and Denise didn't like that, which made her more pissed off coincidentally enough. "And what's that know-it-all?"

"The truth." Silver turned over his credit card to a blonde waitress who was smiling way too big for her tastes. "You see the truth is, all men want sex. Even if they care about you or want to build a relationship with you, sex has got to be part of the deal. Women want relationships. No matter what a woman tells you or even if she has sex with you on the first date, she wants some sort of connection. Some guarantee that there's more than just sweat and soiled linen between her and a man. So how do we fix this quandary? Men lie and tell a woman whatever she wants to hear just as long as it gets them to home base. And what do women do? Lie to themselves and swallow the bull crap we give you, hoping that its actually true but knowing full well that it isn't."

"That's bullshit." It was all she could think to say. She was getting pissed off again and Silver was smiling that smile that reminded her so much of Trevor. "That's just a fucking excuse for ya'll to act like assholes instead of being men." Then he laughed again. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"Its like the time Stan had a gun to God's head. 'I can't make up a better metaphor than this'." He drained the last of his water and cleared his throat. The rain had eased up. "You're pissed at me for telling you the truth not because its bullshit as you so eloquently put it but because its just that, the truth. Because you've born witness to this same truth time and time again. Because it hurts you to think that it is what it is and that your Prince Charming is never going to ride in to save you on his white horse from your kids, your loneliness, and your life because he doesn't exist. That's what the fuck is so funny."

"You're full of shit." Denise was shaking now as Silver left a five dollar tip on the table. "I can't believe you're so goddamn jaded."

"Jaded? Jaded says the woman who got stood up, insulted via text, and made to cry in front of a bunch of people at wing joint. Yeah. I'm the one whose jaded." He was walking off but Denise had more to say and she hated when men walked off. Her common sense told her to let him go but she was going after him. "Don't goddamn ignore me!" He didn't answer. Didn't turn around. "You think you can just walk off after saying that fucked up shit to me?!" Denise walked faster and found herself slipping, then falling onto the rain slicked asphalt, ass first. The water soaked through her dress instantly and made her regret wearing a thong instead of actual underwear. Silver was laughing again.

"You are a mess both figuratively and literally." He was offering her his hand and Denise didn't take it at first. "Come on. Don't be a brat. There you go. Was that so hard?"

"Yes...No." She was tearing up again. "Why does it have to be so hard? I'm a good woman. Don't I deserve a good man?"

Silver's face had softened a bit and in that moment he looked very lonely."Yes. Yes you do."

"But its so fucking impossible. I have kids and my kids come first and-and I just can't do everything I want to do, you know? I've got responsibilities and men don't understand that."

"Yeah. They do and that's why they stay away. They don't want any part of them." The coldness of what he said struck her but she didn't want to get angry again. Falling on her ass half-drunk had took all of that out of her. He went on as if he could read her mind. "No man wants to raise another man's kids.Its-its like in the wild with lions..."


Silver ended up driving her home and settling her tab since she had forgot to when she ran out after him.

Her little house in Washington Oaks was strangely dark. It was a modest brick affair with a garage port and a too small front yard with more dirt than grass and errant plastic toys strewn about. Her oldest would usually have the television burning in his room until she stole in to turn it off. The living room was usually lit by the hallway light. Seems like Laquina didn't see fit to keep it on like she asked. Denise was thinking how to sneak in without waking the kids up but realized she didn't have to...

"This is the part where I charge you fare but the night's been interesting enough I think." He hadn't turned his little Honda Civic off which meant he hadn't planned on inviting himself in.

Then she realized that maybe she wanted to invite him in.

Laquina had been with Silver at least two times though the number would change depending on how drunk or talkative she was. There was one time when she got caught in the back of Walmart ( that had been funny but still sexy ) but there was that other time in the ad office.

Even thinking about it at this moment made her tingle in a way that she hadn't in months. Months. That long without the touch of a man, only her toy and that was when she could actually find time to use it...

"You alright?" Silver said. "I think you missed your cue to say goodnight."

"Oh." Had she zoned out? One of his salt and pepper eyebrows were lifted comically though his gaze was quite intent. She was looking sort of stupid she knew and there had been enough of that already. She put her hand on his leg which drew his eyes. "Who says I didn't miss it on purpose?"

He killed the engine and the console chimed. Quiet filled the car like helium in a balloon. Silver smiled his lopsided smile. "So how much has Laquina told you about me?" He chuckled. "Didn't think I knew you two were friends eh?"

She wasn't going to let herself get caught. Denise would roll with it. She was inebriated enough to do it. "So you do pay attention."

"To everything." He leaned over and kissed her. It was sweet and gentle at first, his lips barely brushing hers but something broke somewhere inside of her and it turned hungry, almost desperate. Her tongue was dancing with his and she didn't care if his breath smelled like teriyaki sauce because his thumb was stroking her already moist clit.

"Laquina talks too much." Silver said as he was kissing her neck. "About you and me but I could care less."

"Me neither." Denise whispered wiggling her hips, rubbing against his fingers. She struggled with her strap until Silver slid it off her shoulder. Now her hard brown nipple was in her mouth. It felt good. The nibbling, the sucking, his tongue going in circles around her areola. His fingers squeezing and kneading her g-spot as she moved. Denise could feel the orgasm coming like a tide beating at a shore.

"Don't stop." He whispered sucking at her other nipple now. Denise was digging into the door handle with one hand and into his shoulder with the other. She was glad the garage light wasn't on for once. "I know you're close. Don't think. Just get it."

She would've said yes but she couldn't think. Her breathing was shallow. Butterflies were fluttering from her stomach to her limbs. Stars and fireworks were bursting behind her eyes.

Denise heard herself as if she were peeping in through the window, her voice rough. "God. Oh. God!." She hissed and rocked, eyes squeezed shut as if she were afraid of what she might see. Her whole face was red and that wonderful vibration started from her core and then, "Fuuuuck!!! Oooooh shiiiiiit!!!" And now his fingers were going in and out and in again, faster and deeper as he sucked on her neck. She was falling, flailing, drowning, rocking the little compact car. "I'm cummin', I'm cummin'! Aaaaaah I'm cummin' again!" Her hips were off the seat and her toes were digging into the floor carpet. Silver was relentless. He hadn't stopped. One of her breasts filled his hand as he bit it, his fingers being the best toy she ever had in her.

And again she didn't know which way was up or down. All she heard was her own screaming.

Her pussy tightened up like a vise grip. The world was coming into view again piece by piece. First there was her breathing, then there the darkness of the night and sex perfuming the air.

Then there was Silver licking her cum off his fingers like it was teriyaki sauce.

Leather 3

"You're being a brat about this."

She was. That was the truth of it but being in her bratty mood she said, "I maybe a brat but you're being a pussy about this." Hank was a ginger. When he was mad you could see it in his neck and face very easily. Right then, it was apparent to someone who was color blind..

"Don't call me a pussy. I don't like that shit-"

"But you're calling me a brat which is like politely calling me a bitch."

"For fucks sake, quit puttin' words in my goddamn mouth I never-"

"Then set it up." Hank sighed and cracked his meaty knuckles. He always did that when he was thinking. "You got your goddamn threesome-"

"And you got your black guy." He answered smugly. "So what's the goddamn problem?"

"I want it. Again." He gave a bitter laugh. She hated when he laughed because she knew on some level, he thought he had her.

"Well sucks to be you, Silver's got himself a woman now." She must of shone the shock on her face. "I know right? The chick in chemicals, what's-her-face, Rosy I think."

"The girl I wanted to have the threesome with?"

"The girl we both wanted to have the threesome with."


It had been an hour so since Hank left her tied up and naked in the dark of her room. Her arms were bound behind her back with rope in a complex kinbaku pattern that criss-crossed her torso around her breasts, down her sternum and between her legs before reconnecting to her wrists. It was so intricate and complicated that Hank had to practice on her for weeks in advance. After each time, they'd both be so turned on they had to fuck each other. It was ritualistic, intense, intimate. She felt like a piece of art by the time he was done.

She heard her door close, then laughing. It was dark in her room already making the blindfold seem redundant. She was gagged but even still, she wouldn't have said anything. She found herself moving her thighs together but the jute rope bit into the inside of her thighs limiting her movement.

The door opened and someone clicked on a light. "Wow." Silver said.

"I know right?" The bed sunk when someone sat beside her. Fingers pranced over her back making gooseflesh. Hank's hand, calloused, rough yet achingly gentle. "You like."

A soft laugh. "I just-you know-I've never seen it in person. How did you learn how to do that?"

"Practice dude." His hands trailed down her backside. "Lots and lots of practice. I taught myself and just went from there. Plus she was willing."

Silver sat down in front of her. His hands were different. One finger, then two, wandering down her cheek then down between her breasts falling the rope like it was a path to some hidden treasure. "Damn." He whispered.

"I know right?!" Hank was always amazed when she was tied up and sharing it with someone must have turned him on. She knew it turned her on. "God I don't know if I wanna fuck her or-or what. Look at her tits man." He grabbed her breast, squeezing softly as if he might break her. Silver whistled and Hank laughed. "She's so fucking sensitive bro. You wouldn't believe it and I bet you she's wet. Go on. Check."

Silver slid a finger up her slit, feather light. "Damn."

"Fuck." They were quiet save for their heavy breathing. The anticipation made her even more moist. "Is she gagged with what I think she's gagged with?" Hank must've nodded because she heard him whisper "Fuck."

"I told you bro."

"You did."

"She cheated on you man."

"Yep."

"And I said I had something special for you."

"Yeah. You did. So...what now?"

"Do you bro."

She was put on her back then kissed and licked gently, Hanks hands on  breast, kneading her nipples as he whispered unintelligible things into the hollow of her neck. That fact that she couldn't see or speak made her feel vulnerable.She couldn't tell where the next touch or nibble would come from.

Silver was kissing her toes, her feet, the backs of her calves and thighs working silently, sighing into her skin, his breath hot. Her pussy was aching to be touched even as Hank palmed and licked her nipples. She squirmed against the ropes only to make them tighter.

Now she was being pulled towards the edged of the bed. Frank took her panties out of her mouth and replaced them with his cock. He moaned like he waited forever for her mouth and tongue and it made her skin prickle.

First she felt his fingers then his tongue. He went in easy and unhurried, exploring and playing with her, teasing her swollen clit.until she wrapped her legs around his head. He moaned into her pussy and the vibrations of his voice made her back arch.

"Fuck," Hank was whispering over and over. He went deeper making her gag a little. It was hard to concentrate with Silver eating her cunt. "Fuck you're beautiful. Eat her pussy bro. Make her cum while I'm cummin' in her mouth." He did, placing his hands on her stomach to keep back on the bed. She was moaning and thrashing as Hank fuck lips. Then she was shaking as Hank was, his hands twisting her nipples adding the spice of pain to her sweet pleasure.

"Goddamn." She heard Hank's voice in front of her face. "That was-that was fucking intense." She felt the pad of his thumb around her lips, smearing his cum into her mouth. She sucked it slowly, letting her tongue do most of the work. "She wants more." He said matter-of-factly.

"So do I." Silver said. "I think she squirted a little."

Hank was now rubbing his dick on her lips. He was hard again. He always was like this when she was tied up. "Then let's switch ends then."

Quickie

When you see a nice logo or picture or kick ass graphic, people think its as simple as drawing a doodle on a piece of paper.

Well let me tell you, its not. If any idiot could go into illustrator and make a masterpiece, I wouldn't have gone to school for it. Its layers of colors and images. Patience and nitpicking over everything that could look wrong and that's before you actually get to the creative part of it.

I've been working freelance with a firm in Orlando on this fashion mag project which basically means the firm is getting paid the bulk of the money from the client and I'm only getting a piece of that. Not that I'm complaining; its good scratch and shit, they're paying me appropriately for my experience. I wish I could do the shit myself and cut out the middle man.

When I told Calvin this, you shoulda seen his face. It lit up like a sunrise, all twenty-two teeth and grinning. He told me I should do it. He told me he'd help. He told me he could give me contacts.

I can't help but be scared shitless and be delighted at the same time. I'm pretty fucking sure he loves me but I'm not sure I'm ready for love or anything else. He's a man but I was lez for a hot minute ( kinda ). I don't even know what he wants, kids? I can't do kids, at least I don't think I can. Does he want a homemaker? I can't cook as good as him.

"You're thinking too much." He was in jeans shorts and a button down yellow Polo that made his skin seem even darker with his dreads pulled back. I could smell what he was cooking suddenly, turkey, stuffing and something else. His version of Thanksgiving for me since I had no family to celebrate with.

"I'm not thinking, I'm working." He leaned over me, smelling like good food and Calvin Klein taking my mouse and clicking a tab. Lesbian porn. It was frozen in time, a black busty woman with a fade embracing a pale petite white woman with glasses, their lips and tongues brushing each other.

OK. So I was watching a little bit a smut. It ain't like I'm the first one to fuck off and do it. I didn't know what he would think about it; men are fickle when it comes to their pride. Calvin told me he had wanted to conquer me; he might think he could fuck me straight or something equally moronic. "That's beautiful." He whispered reverently. "That's real lesbian porn, not the fake shit right?"

"Right." His square-tipped fingers on my shoulder and I tingled. It was intimate without being overtly sexual; I dig that, intimacy without expectation. "I hate that dumb shit. The girl's ooohing and aaaahing  just to put on a show."

"That's why I like amateur porn. The professional stuff is good but not as authentic."

"Co-signing on that." He was pulling my swivel chair back before I realized it. "What are you doing?"

"Do something I always wanted to do." He clicked on the vid's tool bar then turned up the volume. "Relax, watch and let me do my thizang."

"That wasn't corny." He was slipping my pajamas pants down around my knees. Surprise, surprise,  no boxers. Calvin was on his knees, throwing my legs over his toned shoulders as the sounds of the two women on the screen escalated.

He was nipping at my clit at first as I watched the two women undress each other. They were kissing, soft and deep the whole time. The black woman pulled the white woman's long dark hair back making her bare her neck to her. She scored her. One kiss. Two kisses. A nibble then her dress fell away from her shoulders revealing the pale flesh of her shoulders and neck.

Calvin was moaning softly into my mound and I was tightening my legs around his head. It felt weird to be watching porn but leaving it to someone else to get me off. My hands felt strange not being busy; so I had to settle for twisting and pinching my nipples which I usually only have one hand free to do.

The black woman was devouring the white woman now having stripped her totally of her dress. She was moving down her stomach with her lover's hands running up and down her neck. She moaned much like Calvin was, as if pleasing her was getting her off. I was shaking a little. My legs had gone rigid, scissor locking him into place as he started slurping my clit.

 He was as tender as the black woman when she started lapping at the white woman's swollen, pink pussy. I didn't know which tongue I was feeling now, hers or Calvin's but it was rough and tender just the same, peeling back the folds of my labia, exploring, probing, never satisfied, going deeper and deeper still.

I was so wet, so fucking wet and close but Calvin was going in for the kill. "Open your eyes." He moaned. "I wanna watch you watch them." Sure enough he was doing just that, watching me as he ate my pussy. I hadn't realized my eyes were squeezed shut nor that I was gripping my arm rests for dear life. She was kissing and nibbling the white woman's thighs, still licking, still hungry, still searching. Her hands were Calvin's, strong and gentle, roaming up the flesh of my stomach, twisting and teasing my nipples. Hungry. Everything about their touch was needy.

I was watching them and watching myself. Feeling Amara. Feeling Calvin. Feeling the two women, thinking about Amara and her white-girl dreadlocks, thinking about Calvin dreads in comparison as he ate me up piece by painstaking piece.

It was so sudden, I had no time to do anything but squirt and hiss, rocking my swivel chair, thinking I might break Calvin's neck. The white woman was moaning too, cumming like I was cumming but much more subdued. I tried to keep my eyes open but I couldn't. Flashes of light danced behind my eyelids. My nerves were aflame.

I had to push Calvin away. My cum soaked his shirt about the collar. I was shaking like a leaf, dazed and confused about just who and what made me nut. "You good Cat?" I was rocking with my head between my knees, only now realizing how hard I was breathing.

"I'm fine." Shit I was having after shocks, each one zapping through my clit like a lighting rod. "Do you...do you gotta check on the food?"

He was getting to his feet with a puzzled look on his face. "Yeah. I guess I could-"

"Can you fuck me?" The words just tumbled out before I could think. "I mean, and not fuck up the food?"

He nodded. "I can do that."

"Then find something else on Pornhub. Something with a woman fucking another woman. Something we both can watch."

Quickie

Rosalina could not say when she fell in love with Silver. He was a womanizer.  She wouldn't be so stupid as to deny that. She would go so far as to say he was a slut only he wouldn't sleep with just anybody who threw their panties at him. She had seen him deny women enough though, always with a smile and a joke to put salve on their pride.

Most of them had been pretty, prettier than her in fact, shapely and wanted, full of pride in their looks with confidence that bordered on arrogance. They would come to him on his job or when they were together and she felt like a wolf defending her kill every time as if he were a hunk of meat and not a person.

But deftly, he pushed them aside each and everyone. "I'm here with my friend," he said to a tall, svelte Jamaican woman in a pantsuit that accentuated her curves. "and I don't think she's into sharing though I've been trying hard to change that." He laughed at his own joke and somehow the woman was too, albeit less genuine.

They had taken to sleeping together without protection though Silver insisted on them both being tested. They both did and they had continued their dalliance, knowing that she couldn't get pregnant nor Silver able to impregnate anyone. Rosalina thought that strange; men either wanted children or didn't care if they made any. Rosalina was laying on his chest, cuddling with him which they were doing more and more often as of late as a pretext to sex. They were in his one bedroom apartment, his computer murmuring a song by Hikaru Utada softly from his playlist. The lights were low and a haze of marijuana smoke permeated the air. "Why don't you want to have kids?" She blurted the question out before she had sense enough not to. "You don't have to talk about it, not like I can have any."

He was quiet for a second, stroking her short red hair before tracing the freckles on her bare arms. They were both barely clothed, her in her blouse and panties and he in his jeans. She played with the few curly hairs on his lean chest, as silver as his namesake. His chest rose as he took in a deep breath. "I'm afraid." He whispered and the sadness in it broke her heart.

"What of?" She asked. "Of being like my parents." He answered. "Of doing to them what they did to me. A child's not iron; you can't just beat them into what you want them to be." He sighed. "Couldn't tell my 'rents that. They wanted me to rise above them, to be all that they couldn't hope to." A chuckle then. "Now look at me. Stuck in middle management with no higher aspirations seemingly. I know it tears them to pieces."

"You can't live for them." Live for me. She almost said it but thought better. Suddenly she regretted her tubes being tied and his vasectomy. Could it be reversed? The notion was stupid and childish but she knew she'd research it later.

"How can I not?" They were looking into each others eyes, his the brown of a fresh penny, sleepy and sad. "We are what they make us." She was high and horny but still cared for him. Rosalina never thought he could be sad but that was before he heard of Wendy and his parents. The carefree smile, the jokes, all of it was just an act and she had been fooled before but not any longer. Silver was lonely, terribly so, and hurt.

She wished she had words for him but she didn't. Her decision not to have children didn't come from such a different place. Instead, she gave him her lips and her tongue. His fingers tangled in her short red hair and moved down her back. He pulled up her blouse just to touch her, to enjoy the feel of her skin she knew.

Rosalina kissed his chest then his stomach, blazing a trail to where they both knew he wanted her to go. Silver turned beckoned her to turn over though and his face was in her neck, nibbling and kissing, sending waves of pleasure through he before taking her blouse off.

She never liked being a ginger nor the freckles that came with it. They cover her shoulders and back and were sprinkled down her legs and arms. But Silver loved them; he said he had to kiss every one of them, even those on the bridge of her nose. Rosalina had told him she liked to be played with and attended to and Silver had listened. He always did.

Then his tongue circled her nipples turned them to hard point. She could cum just from him doing that but he didn't stay long before his face was between her thighs, suckling at her clit softly as she writhed beneath him. He slipped a finger into her, in and out, the rhythm hypnotic as he pressed on her g-spot. Before she knew it, she was cumming, her voice coming in gasps as each one snaked up her spine filling the darkness of her shut eyes with bursts of color.

"God." She gasped. "My God I think I love you." Rosalina realized she couldn't take back those words. They were said now. Real and tangible and heavy with consequences seen and unseen. He was moving inside her, harder than she ever thought him to be and though it felt good, so good, she couldn't help but think how her heart would break if he didn't return those words, if she found that this wasn't making love but fucking just like it was with any other man.

"I love you too." The words made her heart leap as he whispered them into her shoulders, his long sinewy arms surrounding her as he thrusts and gyrated inside her. "I just-I don't know what to do about that." He gasped.and grunted. "I don't know. I don't know."

She didn't know what made her bring his face to hers but she did and she could see fear in his eyes. Rosalina knew though that he did and that he spoke the truth; he had no idea what it would mean. What would change. What would remain the same. It was written on his face even as he thrust inside her.

"I love you." She said the orgasm made her gulp air. "And I don't know-I don't know either but-" God he went so deep, filled her up, stretched her. He had slowed down, long strokes. Rosa could feel him in her stomach. "We'll figure it out later. For now this enough." She lied.

"I love you too." He smiled and it was not sad. Something by Adele was playing now, her voice sad and keening. Silver was rocking and pushing bringing her to another orgasm as she tightened around his cock involuntarily and for a second, she forgot that things indeed would not be the same.