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.

Quickie

It had been awhile since she saw him. Not long after getting his AA at Seminole State College (back when it was called Seminole Community), he left for Florida A & M pursing his Bachelor's in Business Administration.

If one didn't know Calvin, they would swear he was a jock instead of the academic that she knew him to be. He was six foot four and two hundred or so pounds of hard, dark muscle beneath deep set brooding eyes. The only two sports in school he had been into were weight lifting and wrestling, besides that, his nose was always in some sort of book.

They were fast friends during those days. He was painfully shy despite girls (and some boys) being madly in love with him from afar and it seemed that she was the only girl he was comfortable talking seeing as she lifted weights and wrestled as he did.

She was ashamed to think that that might have bothered her; that he saw as nothing more than a friend, perhaps not even as a woman. She was amongst those girls that admired him. At the time she felt a little foolish for it. Their friendship was great. They'd train after school, spotting each other almost exclusively with the weights, and oftentimes they'd wrestle each other. She never lost.

 He admired her for her prowess, Calvin did, but that seemed to be it. She was used to guys being intimidated by he, she was five foot eleven at one hundred and eighty, the majority of it sinewy muscle under walnut skin. She had always been bigger, stronger than boys and girls her age and of course, she was made fun of because of it. Sports made her comfortable and confident but it did nothing for her insecurities.

Now it was ten years past. She had moved back to Sanford after a few years on the west coast working for an advertising firm. It was a good experience overall; sand, surf, hippies, legal weed and sexual experimentation. Her last relationship had left her drained and somewhat confused. There was no question that she had loved Amara but that hadn't stopped her from cheating with a man and ruining all hopes of reconciliation with her. She felt like Sanford was as good as place as any to lick her wounds.

A Facebook convo and a phone call later, she and Calvin touched based again. He had returned to Sanford after a stint in Atlanta managing some restaurants, saying that he wanted to develop its a economy a bit more. He had designs to build an upscale place downtown, a fusion of eastern and western cuisine.

At first, she didn't want to go out with him. To her surprise, she still had feelings for him, some of them not so romantic.

But she wasn't going to sleep with him because he wasn't attracted to her. Never had been.

So she went out with him dressed casually which for her was a wife beater and basketball shorts and sneakers. She hadn't edged her fade in awhile and her fro-hawk a bit wild but she didn't think Calvin would mind.

When he picked her up, to her surprise, he was dressed similarly save for him wearing a full T. He smiled like a Cheshire cat. "You must've read my mind." He quipped from behind a dazzling smile, a white slash in the darkness of his face. He had dreads now and even wearing glasses, they made him look primal, animal like.

She was smiling nervously despite herself but managed to find her voice. "And how's that?"

"Tell me you don't wanna play basketball right now. Go ahead Cat. Lie to me." She burst out laughing. She did need something physical to let off some stress but he was wrong about it being basketball.

Sure enough, Cat and Calvin were shooting around at Ft. Mellon Park. The courts were better than she remembered but Calvin was still awful at basketball. If not for his sheer physical presence, Cat would've scored every time she touched the ball.

But Calvin would post-up, his body a wall between her and the basket. His hand would drift down to her waist, holding her in place as she dribbled. She'd try to box him out just to feel his breath on her neck and to smell his skin.

After she beat him, they went back to his house a three bedroom bungalow off of Mellonville in the quote on quote good part of Sanford made of red brick with a stone walk way. The inside was better, his walls a warm red with cream colored furniture that seemed like it was never sat upon and a fireplace made of black marble.

He reheated some teriyaki burgers he had from a party the night before as they sat on his patio. Cat hadn't realized how hungry she was, eating as Calvin reminisced about high school.

"Every time I tell my friends I got out wrestled by you, they don't believe me and I tell 'em I got the wounded pride to prove it." He laughed and she did too through a mouthful of hamburger. She washed it down with a Heineken so she wouldn't choke. "They're like, 'I can't believe you got beat by a girl.' And then I show them your picture and then they believe me."

Cat laughed but it was forced. They saw what everybody else saw; a mannish she-Hulk. Somethings hadn't changed it seemed. "I always wanted a rematch though."

"Is that right?" She burped and he laughed slapped her shoulder playfully. "Thought you were good with me being the better athlete."

"Once upon a time, I was." She found Calvin's eyes roving over her and he did not try to hide. Moonlight had made his skin glow ethereally. Cat felt her pulse quicken at the realization that Calvin wanted her. "But now, not so much." He smiled and sipped his Heineken as if he didn't just undress her with his gaze.

"And why's that?"

"Because I'm ready to take you down."

She laughed nervously and didn't know why. Wasn't this what she wanted? "Are we still talking about wrestling?"

"Obviously not." He had a slight smile but his eyes were intent. "I've wanted you for awhile Caitlin."

She didn't want to feel like a giddy high school girl but she did. Still, Cat had to hold on to her dignity so she sat back in her lawn chair and lazily sipped from her Heineken relishing the feel of the liquid courage. "You never said anything."

"Too shy." He retorted. "Plus, like I said, I hadn't beaten you yet."

"And why's that so fucking important?" She was feeling warmer and bolder, the beers were doing their job. "You don't have to beat me to fuck me."

"Yes. I do." He leaned for on his knees. "You're not the type of woman I'd just fuck Cat. You're too strong for that. I'd have to...conquer you." He smiled shyly, the old Calvin making a reappearance.

"Conquer me?" Did he not know how wet she had gotten when they wrestled? Did Calvin not see her checking him out? She had masturbated nightly to this man. She'd have surrendered willingly. The night was quiet save for the whispering of trees and the song of crickets. Calvin scooted forward and Cat realized how long the silence had stretched out. "You didn't-I mean you don't have to-"

"But I do." He whispered. "I love strong women Cat. Confident, capable, physical women." He sighed and Cat could tell he was turned on which only made her that much more moist. "And you by far are the strongest I've known."

"But all the girls who wanted you-"

"Were just that. Girls. Not women. They were...domesticated. You were always wild and free. A challenge. I've always had that need to-dominate you. Have you bend to my will...." It was his turn to chuckle nervously. He looked away abashed. "I'm sorry Cat. I'm drunk and-"

"So you wanna break me." Amara had wanted to as well, only she did it with whips and chains and a mercilessly talented tongue. Cat had loved every minute of it, being bound and submissive, letting someone take the lead.

"In a way." Calvin said softly. That was all Cat needed. She was going out into the cool grass, kicking off her shoes and socks, stripping off the wife-beater and basketball shorts. Calvin stood in awe for a second, licking his lips, openly admiring her. She had a toned ass, Amara had always said so, with the thighs to match. Her breasts had never been more than a B-cup but they were shaped nicely enough.

"If you wanna take me down," She said confidently. "then here's your chance." Calvin stripped down to his boxers in silence before setting his glasses on the table. His body hadn't gone to ruin after high school, if anything he looked larger, more toned. He loomed like an obsidian shadow, soft and silent.

Cat realized she might lose and that she wanted to do just that.

They locked quickly and as always, Cat had enough agility to get her feet in a good position. Calvin stood his ground though, his toes digging into the soil of the lawn. He would try to use his weight to overpower her. She got into his instep and trying to trip him. He exhaled hard and stood his ground.

Calvin broke the hold then took hold of the back of her sports bra, bringing them both down to their knees. He then jerked right, almost putting her on her back.

Cat tried to slip out but he had more upper body strength than she remembered. Calvin had hit the gym harder than her it seemed. He moved in, grabbed her wrist and put her on the grass when her legs slipped from under her and quickly grabbed her other one.

He was breathing hard, staring into her face as she tried desperately to wiggle free. She realized with a start that she couldn't. Calvin looked like the Big Bad Wolf incarnate and she felt like little more than a morsel to him. Calvin had her in his jaws but he didn't move and after awhile neither did she.

She didn't know how she knew what to do but instinctively, she bared her neck to him. He licked and nipped at it greedily. Cat feel his erection brush against her inner thigh, needy and throbbing.

When he let go of her wrists, they started kissing. It was hungry and wild, years of want bursting forth between them. He pulled up her bra, licking and sucking her hard nipples as she reached down and stroked his cock. Before she knew it, Calvan was straddling her face as she sucked down as much of his girth as she could managed, relishing the fact that she couldn't.

He howled more than moaned. His thick fingers dancing on her swollen clit before she pushed them into her dripping sex. She felt like a train was being ran on her.

Calvin licked her pussy like it was a fruit, holding her by her legs as she bucked on his face. The sounds she made were ugly as she twisted in his grasp, squirting and shaking on his tongue. It didn't seem that he could slide his dick into her fast enough. She was wetter than she had ever been and still, it took three good strokes to get into her.

He rode her hard and rough just like she screamed for. Cat could feel wetness slide down the crack of her ass and thighs. She was squirting again, harder this time as he pushed her legs back to her shoulders. The grass hissed against her back as he drove his dick deeper and deeper still.

When he was about to cum, he pulled out as he knew he would. What he didn't know was that she wanted to taste firsthand. She pushed him on his back and sucked him as he yelled to the sky, grabbing handfuls of grass and dirt as shook.

After Cat lay on his sweaty chest as his arms circled her. It was natural and somehow, she felt safe and strangely small. "Is this going to be last time?" Calvin whispered to no one in particular. He sounded all of fifteen again, scared and unsure of himself. It made her giggle.

"Not if I can help it." Cat was stroking him again and he stiffened in response. "Can't decide a match with one round."

Leather 2

She was glutton for pain. That much was obvious. The things he had done to the unassuming woman were proof enough for that.

Yet that pain in and of itself wasn't enough; spanking her, twisting her nipples, whipping her, binding her was just part of it.. The real turn on for her was being used like a Kleenex, being bawled into a wad and thrown away.

He understood it the way an observer did, detached and clinical. He couldn't see why anyone would want to be degraded, taken advantage of or thrown away; he only understood that some did. He had gone through all three in his life, to more extremes than most and nothing about those circumstance engendered a need for those things to happen again.

The irony of his profession though was not lost to him.

The Slumberland Motel on 17-92 was the type of place that rented by hour. It had peeling wallpaper, a less than hygienic looking comforter of beige pulled over a squeaky old bed. The carpet, which the owners dutifully cleaned, still retained the odd spread of a stain that he did not want to identify. A AC unit droned under curtains with floral patterns that looked as if they belonged on a sofa.

On the bed was a middle-aged Asian woman, her hands and ankles bound to a length of wood that forced her rear end in the air and her face into the bed. She was petite but curvy the only indication of her age being the silver that threaded her waist length hair. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold and the ball gag made her breath come out hard and desperate threw her nose.

He had done no less than what she asked for whenever she asked for him. She was one of his best clients. She didn't ask his name. Didn't want to know where he was from. Didn't want to fall in love with him.

So they had gotten to the point where they weren't using condoms. It was against the Man in Black's policy but she showed him the test, every other month as did he. Plus, he charged her outrageously for the privilege.

He walked towards the bed and he could see her tense expectantly. The Man in Black pulled her by the wooden bar with no ceremony, noticing he didn't have to coerce an erection, and pushed past her swollen labia. She grunted and he couldn't tell if it was in pleasure or pain.

"You fuckin' slut." He yanked her head back with a fist full of hair. "Pussy dry as fuck but as soon as a dick's in it, you wet." He didn't like to affect the dominant-ghetto-black-man persona and speak so vulgarly but she was the customer. "Already fuckin' cummin' too."

She groaned louder and by the soft light of the lamp, he could see spittle shine on the garish, plastic ball as the leather of its straps bit into her cheeks. He wasn't actually doing the woman justice. She was more than wet. She was hot and dripping, her cum white and thick on his cock. He loved when women creamed; it was closest thing to a fetish he had and he tried not to get lost in the warmth of her sex.

He pushed his thumb into her ass. She growled and jerked in response.

"Shut up bitch. Like you don't like that shit..."  And she did. She had playfully said she liked to be fucked more in her ass than her pussy and he was inclined to believe her. She squeezed her anus around his finger, at the same time doing so with walls of her vagina. Her devotion to kegel  exercise bordered on the religious and it caught him by surprise that she could tighten so dramatically.

Older women always knew how to fuck better. Not because they were classy or more attractive. They just got over the bullshit younger women did when it came to it.

He didn't feel ashamed that he was spitting his seed into her. It made him fuck her that much harder as he did, the wetness of her sex making squishy sounds as he brought her to a thrashing orgasm of his own.

He pulled out of her, wet with her lust. The Man in Black spread her cheeks.

"Push it out." He slapped her buttocks hard enough to leave a hand print in its flesh. "I wanna see that shit." She did as she asked and it oozed out of her like icing out of a frosting bag, dripping down her slit.

"Good job bitch. I'll be back."

It didn't take him long to wash off and make himself presentable again. In his line of work, one figured out the necessity of cleaning one's body quickly early.

Now in a suit, ink black from tie to loafers, he set out to get have a bite at the IHOP down the road, leaving his client as she was, spent, used, with cum dripping from her cunt. This was only hour one and he had two hours to go.

He didn't understand the allure of being left in the dark like she was but then people probably wouldn't understand why someone like him would do that to her.










"

Wet Dreams

The dream was never the same but the man always was.

                She couldn’t remember everything about him though every time she woke from the dream, swollen and impossibly wet, she would try to hold onto how he felt; tall, dark and solid like a tree.

                It wouldn’t have bothered her if it didn’t happen regularly. Each time it was more intense and vivid. She could see more of him, feel more of him. 

                He was a thought she could not be rid of.  An ache that never left though she was quite sure he had never been there.  When her hand would explore the slickness of her lust, she thought only about him and him alone and each time it would bring her to an orgasm that would make her see stars.

                She knew she would meet him. She didn’t know how she knew but she did.

                “And this man, you don’t what he looks like?”

                “Nope.”

                “But he visits you? In your dreams?”

                “Yes.”

                Her friend Kaitlin, tall, blond, and willowy was her polar opposite. Men would fawn over her super model looks, forgetting that she was with her. She was short, dark haired, and plus sized with glasses to boot. Despite all of that, she had been friends with her since junior high and thus, could talk to her about anything.   She was the only one she had told about her dreams and now, by the skeptical look in her blond eyes, she could see that it might have been a bad idea. “You think I’m crazy.” She sighed.

                “And am I wrong for thinking that Milly?” Kaitlin swabbed a crinkled French fry into a glob of ketchup. No matter what she ate, she couldn’t seem to gain weight. Kaitlin hated it and Milly hated her for it.

                “No because I’m not quite sure I disagree with you.” She looked around the outdoor patio at the McDonald’s, noticing how unremarkable the traffic was going up and down the street. It was like watching people jostle in a line to go nowhere. “It’s just that it seems so real you know? Like I could feel him touch me and-and enter me. I swear last night my clit was twitching.”

                “Twitching?” Kaitlin said through a mouthful of fries, one eyebrow arched impossibly high.

                “Yeah-“A warm feeling spread through her body causing her to shudder involuntarily. Her breath caught and she found herself gripping the table.

                “Mill you OK?”

                “I’m-“Another wave hit her harder than before like a wave crashing against a shore. The shudder had turned into a full on shake. “-fine.”

                “This is the part where I say, ‘I’ll have what she’s having’ only I don’t think you’re faking it for my sake.”  Kaitlin was giggling but she was right, she hadn’t faked it. Her panties were damp, the material of rubbing against her now erect button. Milly didn’t move but another felt like it was on its way.

                Then she felt him, the man from her dreams.

                He slid into view as if he were an old friend, a ghost of a smile on his impeccable face. He was just like she remembered him tall with dark skin, his tree trunk of a chest under a cream colored suit that contrasted dramatically with his complexion. But what really stood about him were his hazel-gold, deep set eyes; it was like staring into swirling amber pools. “Mildred.” He said in a rumbling basso, “I’ve finally caught up to you.”

                She would’ve asked how he knew her name but frankly, she didn’t care.  “You have.”

                “Uh, hi.” Kaitlin waved her hand in front of her face bringing her back to earth.  She was appraising the man openly, her own admiration for him apparent by her nervous smile.  “How do you two, uh, know each other?”

                “I have dreamt of her for several nights.”  He answered not breaking his gaze. “Pleasured myself, imagining how making love to her would feel.” His smile grew an inch wider. “And she has done the same.” Another orgasm was moving through her, not as powerful but no less intense. Kaitlin’s mouth was literally on the table.

                “Who are you?” Kaitlin blurted out.

                “I am Whisper.” He reached out and touched the back of Kaitlin’s hand. A small gasp escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered. “And you shall forget me.”

                There was something like a smile on her face but her eyes were blank. “Do not worry,” He said as if he could read her thoughts, which wouldn’t have surprised Milly honestly. “I have not harmed her. It is just that if she remembers me, she will obsess over me and I would not wish that upon her.”

                “You’re not human.” Milly managed to say.

                “Not in the least. Come. We have much to catch up on.”

                It seemed natural for her to bring Whisper to her house, into her bedroom, into her bed.

                There was no talking between; there was need for it.

                He kissed her as soon as the door closed, his mouth hot and hungry as he crushed his chiseled body against hers. Milly could hardly think. His touch was dizzying, spreading waves of ecstasy through her. She couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough.

                But she didn’t need to. Whisper was satisfied hiking up her, letting her panties bunch around her heels as he dove tongue first into achingly wet slit.  He nibbled at her clit at first. Then he sucked and slurped his way up and down, occasionally flicking his tongue in the crack of her ass. Milly had never had anyone lick her ass but by the way Whisper was doing it, she was looking forward to more of it, or to be more precise, more of him if she was honest.

                When she filled her mouth with him, he moaned and swayed, his thick fingers wound in her dark hair. He tasted like no man she ever had and she realized that he wasn’t a man though she did not care what he was. Milly swallowed his manhood as best she could manage, letting her spittle drift down the length of him as his balls slapped against her chin. She too was groaning despite herself and before long, Whisper was cumming in her mouth, his seed thick and tasting strangely like fruit juice. It made her suck him more furiously and before long, she too had an orgasm that made her swoon.

                She had no time to ask how that had happen. Whisper had pulled to her feet only to bend her over. He was pushing into her dripping hole before she could protest.

                He wasn’t wearing a condom but somehow she knew he could not impregnate her  not that it would matter.

                “Give me all that you are.” He grunted as he pulled her hair. “Don’t hold back. There’s no point to.” She did as he asked, meeting his urgent thrusts, her buttocks slapping against his pelvis as his member stretched her with each push.  He was kissing her neck as his free hand touched her clit.

                That’s when she heard screaming, only to realize it was her own voice, ragged and guttural. It was something like an orgasm but without release. Every nerve in her body was on fire. Whisper was in the same place now, his voice more animal than man as he pumped his seed inside of her.

                Milly almost dropped to her knees but Whisper’s arms were around her, holding her quivering form, her back against his sweaty chest. She was gasping for breath but there didn’t seem like enough in the room. She was twitching like she did after her dreams only now it wasn’t just her juices but his spunk inside of her. “Who are you?” She huffed sagging against him. “What are you?”

                “Not a man,” He answered. “but not a god. Something in between.” He held her closer.

                “Will-How long will you be here…with me?”

                “As long as I am allowed.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed, a new erection bobbing against her as he did so. She peered into those lipid pools, melancholy and loneliness spinning within their depths. She did not know why but somehow she knew that he loved her but that he would leave and it would not be because he wanted to.

                Milly would soothe him as long as she was allowed.

Quickie

"Are you looking out for me?"

"You know I am."

He wasn't of course. It was a hot day despite being October. Sweat made his t-shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin and he was salivating practically. It took all of his cajoling and influence to get her this far. "It doesn't look like it." Her small mouth crooked into a nervous smile as she pushed her red hair out of her face Her plump pale legs were splashed with freckles all the way to her thighs. She pulled down her dress when she caught him looking, casting a weary glance about the park. "I can't believe you want me to do this."

"Yeah you can."

"Can not." She chuckled nervously as a jogger ran past them. Her back was on the tree and she was turned away from the path, tucked neatly within the evening shade and out of anyone's, but his, eye sight. She was a shapely, Hispanic ginger, shaped like an hour glass with creamy pale skin. She was shy and nerdy like he liked them. His perfect woman actually. "Stop staring at me like that."

"Like what?" He said smiling innocently, a lopsided smile on his face. He was tall, black and lanky with brown skin and penny colored eyes and hair that grayed prematurely, giving his low cut hair a silver look. He reached, running his hand up her thigh and she rewarded him with a hiss. He went further still and found that despite her trepidation, she was willing and wet.

"Like that." She squirmed against his hand so that his fingers could get in deeper. He resisted the urge to give her what she wanted. "We don't have to do this. Let's just go home and you can fuck me."

"Yeah?" He looked across Crane's Roost as if he could will everyone away to make her more comfortable but that defeated the point he mused; being in public was part of the kink, The lake was pristine and it barely bustled with activity. Most here were joggers or roller bladers. The rest were just lounging like they were, at a gazebo or sprawled out on a picnic blanket like they.

Only he wasn't out here to eat anything out of a wicker basket. "Yeah." She said in harsh whisper. His long knobby fingers worked her clit. He could feel her juices pooling down her slit. "Anything you want."

"Now why is that?" He was still keeping his eyes open but he paid close attention to how her eyes fluttered behind her glasses. He could imagine himself exploding on them, shooting his load on the lenses so that she could see what was coming. She said she was into that.

"Because you got me so fucking turned on." She wasn't looking at him when she said this. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was breathing fast. "Calling me after work. Telling me you were jacking off to me-"

"I was you know."

"Were you?" She also told him she got off on guys getting off on her. The thought made his member swell.

"I wouldn't lie to you about that."

"Did you cum?"

"Not yet."

He knew what it meant for her to hear that. She would want to make him cum. She wouldn't have been satisfied that he finished off without her there. They had gotten into an argument about it before.

She fished the toy out of her purse, clicking it to life inside before producing it, then rolled back her dress to expose the soft, supple flesh of her thighs. He loved her pussy; how it seemed to stick out like a fist when she bent over or how her clit and lips would swell when she was aroused. She was glistening in the heat of the day, her strong, sweet scent mixing with that of the trees and grass.

She placed it on her clit and for a minute, it was just them. She keeping the sex toy on her moist pussy as he stood and watch, stroking himself  just in front of her face.

Every now and then, she'd stick out her pink tongue, flicking just under the head of his dick. He had to resist entering her mouth lest he need to put his erection a way and she wasn't making it easier. Before he knew it, he was in her mouth, feeling her groans as she came from the bullet. Her head didn't move at first; it was just her tongue and lips sucking at him but then she moved just a bit and a gasp escaped his lips as his eyes rolled in his head.

"Hey are you OK miss?"

His eyes opened and sure enough, it was the jogger that had passed by previously. Crane's Roost was a big park, it was seldom that you'd find a jogger that could run the circuit twice.

"I'm fine sir." She had gotten all respectful in order to put the man at ease. "Just enjoying the shade with my boyfriend."

"Uh yeah." He chuckled. "Just taking a minute and, uh, enjoying the sights."

The jogger, an older gentleman with shaggy  eyebrows and sunburned skin, looked at them both quizzically. "For a minute there, it looked like he might have been, forcing himself in your-"

"Nothing of the like sir." She rose to her feet and he had to make sure she didn't fall as she put her black painted toes into her slides. "Just enjoying ourselves." 

"Yeah...sure." A knowing smile pulled the corners of his mouth. "Well you folks take care."

"We will." And with that, he went off on his way. It wasn't until he was out of earshot that they both burst into laughter.

"Why did you let me suck your dick?"

"Me? I let you?" He laughed hard and she giggled as they made their way to a blue Honda Civic hatch backafter taking a short cut through the grass. "You're the one that licked me. I was just taking care of things like you at first."

"But the fantasy was us masturbating in front of each other, not me sucking you off while I did it."

"That was you ad libbing, not me."

"Did you like that last ad lib?"

"Which one?"

"The one where I called you my boyfriend?" He opened her door first, as usual and she stopped halfway before getting in, shooting her a smirk that let him know she had pigeonholed him

"It was alright. If you had said I was your dentist it would have been better."

She chuckled. "In other words, you're not saying yay or nay on it."

He close her door and rounded the front of the Honda, his erection semi-alive in pants, fears fluttering in his gut.

Because her saying he was her boyfriend didn't bother him like it should have.

The Underneath: Slave

Its like a pause between thunderclaps.

My body is anticipating the next one. My stomach tightens up as I'm forced to breathe through my nostrils, the ball gag snug enough to cut off air to my mouth effectively. Its quiet save the hiss of me struggling for breath.

Then-

The slap of the leather paddle across my cheeks causes me to jerk, yanking the chain that suspends me from the ceiling. I sag knowing it can support my weight though the leather restraints bite into my wrists.

"Don't cum. You're not allowed."

I blink back sudden tears as I look past my wrists tied to the iron bar that the chain is connected to. Its torture. The pain is so delicious and sudden that I have to catch my breath.

"You're close aren't you?" He comes over and a smooth brown hand pulls at one of my nipple piercings causing me to groan and my legs to buckle beneath me before I can stand properly again. My friend chuckles from the shadows.

"I've never seen someone respond to pain like you do." He hits my ass again with the leather paddle. I stand straight up and start to rub my thighs together before I know what I'm doing.

I'm so close... "The Master told you not to cum."

I almost forgot. My eyes flutter and I can see her indistinct shape as she circles behind me, conveniently out of the light of the candles giving soft light to the room..

She thrusts her fingers into me then rubs them down my thighs confirming how wet I am. "It was touch and go for a moment but I told you Master that she'd make a good Slave."

He chuckled. His voice was rich and smooth and vaguely British. "That you did my Apprentice but to be honest, I didn't expect you to pick so well on your first try."

"Thank you Master." To me she says. "Stand up." Its hard for me to do so and its not because I'm tired or weak. Its because they haven't let me cum in an hour. They've brought me back and forth to the edge with their paddling and pinching. They're working me like I want to be worked. Teasing me just enough to get me close. I'm standing, toes squeaking against the wood floor. Her Master is in front of me. His grin isn't leery. Its like that of a professor who's trying not to be too delighted in his pupil. He lifts my chin to meet his gray-green eyes then says, "Begin."

I hear the click then subsequent buzz of a bullet as she whispers in my ear.

"Don't cum."


"You're in you know."

"Am I?"

"Is that not what I just said?"

Meg tried to sound surly but a smile blossomed on her face regardless. I was eating with her between classes at Seminole State in front of the library. Meg didn't go to school because she didn't need to. The sleeves she's got were both done by her, including a few of my discreet tattoos. I was wondering why she had come out to see me. "Well, um, what happens now?"

"You come to the place the next time we gather and you put yourself out there as a Slave."

"What if I don't want to be a sub?" Meg laughed hard at that. I could spy her tongue piercings, one of many she had,one being put in traditionally while the other was through the side.

"Then maybe you'll want to be a hamburger." I didn't laugh at that stupid joke but she did earning the stares of students passing by from their classes. "But seriously, you can't. Nobody does but its cool, you don't do anything or let anything happen that you don't want to."

"But I have to be a Slave?" 

"Its not like that's a stretch for you cutie pitooty." She laughed stroking my chin lightly with one black finger nail. Its one of those gestures that could be considered more than friendly but I decide not to reproach her on it. "You know you like to be used."

"Meg."

"The fuck you worried about people overhearing for?" Meg may have the guts to be out there but I didn't. I didn't look like her; hazel eyes, dark hair shaved on the sides with the rest pulled into a ponytail.  You were more pressed to find a place she hadn't pierced or inked but she had a shape, mostly bottom heavy but her stature made it more noticeable so that you often glazed over that. Her father was white but she got her Puerto Rican mother's dimensions if not her command of the language. She was an army brat until her father started working in the private sector. You could tell by how easy she could talk to everyone.

Confident, intelligent, funny, inviting.

Everything I was not. "I just don't want people in my business."

Meg laughed harder at that. "People have to know who you are to be in your business Amy."


I've never been noticeable.

If you looked at any picture I've taken, the first thing you would notice is that.. I often get asked where I am in my own photos. I usually point to the back, typically looking over the shoulders of two more attractive, outgoing people, peeking in to show my face to a camera that will hardly pick anything up of me save my glasses.

I suppose its my fault for not being able to open up about myself; I honestly don't think anyone would be interested in me. I watch science fiction and foreign films. I like sushi over burgers. I read more than I watch television, if at all.

 Plus I'm plain and stereotypical; chubby black girl that's into weird things because everyone already thinks she's weird. I was never black enough for black people and never cool amongst my white friends. I was always the third wheel, the girl that was easy to talk to only because you had no intention of dating her.

Few people know what it means to truly be a nobody, not to feel coveted or valuable. There's no feeling worst than that.

At first, I sought out anyone who took notice. Older boys. Older men. Married men. Most of those encounters were unsatisfying to say the least. But then, I found someone who wanted me. Who wanted to use me through and through. Do things to me I never thought possible. Tied me up. Pulled my hair. Fucked my mouth and everything in between.

He took control. Took what he wanted and gave me what I wanted.

Ever since then, I've been into the BDSM lifestyle more or less, experimenting here and there with mostly older white males. Guys that like to be call "daddy" or "master". I don't do it as often as I want though. Central Florida is not good for people into the life; there are few if any clubs for people to gather at.

Then Meg told me about the Underneath.

She told me that I could get in if three people recommended me, which I found strange but seeing as I was in need of experiencing like-minded individuals, I bit. It took all of a week for me to be approved. I was given a special code to get on their website where I was given the lay of the rules. There are three types of swingers at the Underneath, Masters, Apprentices, and Slaves. Everyone starts as a Slave it seems and Slaves are basically that. They are the servants, the used, the people you play with. Apprentices are second tier and must be chosen by a Master to be taught to be one. A Master is someone experienced in the lifestyle to the extent that they teach others and enrich others experiences. They are expected to train, to teach, and to motivate.

I was intrigued to say the least, especially seeing as the code came with an outfit, or should I say, what passes for an outfit for a Slave. It was a French maid's apron and...that was it. It was demeaning, sexist, downright disrespectful...

I had the best orgasm of life in it, thinking about what they were going to get me to do and how they'd make me like it.