Interracial

“Oh, Francois.”

He didn’t say a word. His hand grew a little more insistent at my back and he steered me inside the most stunning room I had ever been in. Ever. The room was huge and magnificent, opening onto a lanai on which stood a chaise and beyond it, a spectacular view of Diamond Head.

Francois stood behind me, his hands sliding down my hips, moving inward to my crotch, resting right on my cock. I knew loved my cock and indeed, enjoyed sucking it for hours.

His fingers moved to the belt buckle keeping him from what he wanted. I turned my face up to meet his and he kissed me, his tongue moving into my mouth as his hands negotiated my zipper. We soon got into a frenzy. We stripped each other in record time. I saw he was hard but he gestured outside.

“Get on that chaise, right now.”

“Somebody might see us.”

“Unlikely, from this vantage point, but the idea thrills me. I want people to watch me taking you.”

My breath stuck in my throat. A white guy and a black guy, naked, wearing big, hard cocks were probably not something you saw every day on the lanai of the Royal Suite. He knelt beside me on the warm apricot-colored tile. I moved my hand to his thigh as I lay down on the chaise as instructed.

He nudged my hand away, his mouth moving straight down to my famished cock. How could I still want him so badly when I’d been woken at four a.m. by his insistent cock poking at my ass? In the five months we’d been together, Francois showed me over and over again how much he wanted me. I felt my body moving as he toyed with my balls and ass.

“Open your legs,” he said, coming off my cock.

He was still beside me when I did as I was told, the only sounds in the world his insistent licking and sucking and the roar of the ocean. I heard voices far below us. Francois nudged my knees up, pulling my ass closer to his face. Nobody had ever eaten my ass the way he did. I felt his hot braids falling on my skin, felt the beads on the end rippling against my chest and belly.

I wanted him to fuck me. I had no idea if the chaise could hold us both but he moved to the foot of it now, bringing my ass down to him. He knelt, his cock hard and jutting up toward his belly, his mouth moving back to my hole. One hand encircled my shaft and he stroked upward. His other hand stroked at my ass cheeks. He slowly worked his thumb into my ass and I almost came when his eyes connected with mine.

He grunted. “Tough customer.” His tongue came out of his mouth as his thumb fucked me in a nice, demanding rhythm. He moved to my side again, his tongue bearing down on my left nipple. He licked it, slapped it gently a couple of times and I grabbed his hand at my ass. Francois knew what he was doing to me. He mouth opened and he sucked my nipple into it. I came with a cry, Francois suckling me until I stopped gushing all over him.

Francois took me mercy on me finally and let go of the nipple. My legs shook and I didn’t think I could keep them raised anymore. I was spent.

His face dipped down and he licked my juices from my belly and chest.

With a sigh, he removed his thumb from my ass.

He moved me back up the chaise, stood before me and I begged him to fuck me.

Francois got between my now hot thighs.

“Put me where you want me.”

Marek nodded at somebody behind me who started removing my clothes. I fought off the hands at first. I couldn't believe he wanted group sex right here on deck in broad daylight. He'd scared me with this sea piracy crap and now…somebody was maneuvering me into a doggy-style position. I was naked on my hands and knees and I felt a warm wet mouth surrounding my cock as Marek's big baby blues settled on me.

"Dragan, you are about to experience all your fantasies, baby. Right here on Shipwreck Bay. This is for all the marbles. If this doesn't make us even, I don't know what will. If you don't want to marry me…if you don't want to spend the rest of your life with me after this night is over, then I've taken a huge risk. I will have gambled and lost everything."

“I really think she’s the woman we’ve been looking for,” Chai Ferguson said, setting the novel aside on the nightstand next to the bed. “She writes with such passion. Her characters are sexy yet mysterious, sensual yet adventurous.” She tickled her husband’s bare chest lightly. “She’s certainly managed to turn us on over and over.”

“That she has,” Frank said, kissing her cheek. “How many times have you said this is the one over the past six months or so since we started reading her stuff? We don’t know if Luci Parker is even her real name. Or that she actually lives here in Chicago.”

Chai felt a surge of excitement. “But it is. I’m sure of it. I’ve researched her on the net. I’ll know more Friday night. She’s doing a reading and signing on the North Side.”

Frank looked a little startled and then softened. “So you’re going to check her out for us?”

“Umm.” Chai wet her lips. “That’s right.” She interlaced her fingers with her husband’s and slipped them inside her peignoir to cover a breast. “For both of us.”

“You don’t even know if she’s bi,” he said, fondling a breast. “Or she may be married or in a committed relationship or have a passel of kids.”

Chai chuckled and caught her breath as Frank rolled a swollen nipple between thumb and forefinger. “That’s possible,” she admitted, “but I have a feeling about her. The spirits are drawing us to her. I’m almost certain of that. I’ll know soon enough. I’m going to invite her to the Four Winds for a reading and signing. That ought to get her attention.”

Frank leaned over to drag his tongue across the rise of her breast. “If she’s at all into women, I trust you’ll get her attention. Sounds like you have it all planned out.”

Chai raked her fingers through Frank’s dark hair. “We both know that’s impossible. We are talking about human relationships.”

Lifting his head, Frank grinned. “Hell, she could be as ugly as burnt toast.”

She pushed his head lower until he was suckling her again. She sighed, basking in his loving. “I doubt she’s ugly. I bet she’s petite and brassy, maybe like Brittany in Love’s Quest.

Frank opened the peignoir and laved the underside of her breast. If your Luci is half as hot and sexy as Brittany in her Love’s Quest, then she should be something else.”

“Our Luci,” Chai corrected, closing her eyes as his tongue explored and sent her along a familiar path. “There won’t be a Luci without you. You know that.”

“I trust that,” he mumbled, around soft flesh. “So are you imagining my mouth is Luci’s?”

“Not at all,” she murmured. “I’m imagining you on my right breast and Luci on my left.”

“There’s plenty to go around,” he quipped.

“You’re not complaining about the size of my breasts after eight years of marriage, are you?”

“Never,” came a muffled reply as he suckled more of her flesh into his mouth.

“Good.” Deftly, she cradled her left breast and brought it to her mouth. She suckled imagining her favorite author’s mouth and tongue. Given the sensuality of Luci’s writing, she had to know how to love a woman. She just had to.

She matched her sucking strokes with Frank’s. They both knew she couldn’t last long under this dual oral assault. Thank goodness, she had sensitive breasts. Some women with large breasts complained about them not being sensitive. Hers were and always had been. Holding both hands around her breast she intensified her efforts as did Frank. Her lower body bucked, demanding attention. Frank clamped a hand over her pussy and she ground against it briefly before shattering.

Angel met Mace's dark, feral gaze with no little amount of trepidation. The look he gave her was unsettling, but it wasn't nearly as disquieting as Derek's penetrating amber gaze. The look he gave her reminded her of the predator he was in his other form. It was almost as though he had her in his sights and didn't plan to let her get away. The feeling was both frightening and exciting. Exhilarating may be a better word.

Her heart began to pound so hard she feared it would leave her chest. She was sure they could hear it. It was so loud. Ignoring what that look did to her wasn't just difficult, it was nigh impossible. She wanted nothing more than to act as though nothing was wrong. That not one thing between them was different. But she was forever changed.

How could she pretend she didn't want them? To pretend as though her body was not betraying her arousal as liquid heat slid silkily from her core to soak her panties, making her slick with need. If they bothered to lean close, they would smell it. She could smell it. Or maybe it was her imagination.

What could she do? She had to do something before she fell apart in some weird hysterical mess. Instead of doing nothing, standing there, in front of the stove, twisting her hands together and lusting after these two men, she decided to do something. Anything was better than giving herself away. How would she ever live with herself if she made her arousal known and they rejected her? What if they thought the same thing Jacob thought? That she wasn't even adequate in bed. Could she live with another rejection like that?

Angel wasn't sure she was strong enough to handle their dismissal, no matter how gently they did it. Not knowing one way or the other was better than a rejection any day. Besides, how would she ever choose between them? They were both hot, with a capital H.

Finally picking a course of action, she decided that searching the cabinets was a good idea. She hoped to find some vinegar that she could turn into a dressing of sorts. She'd never made any with butter before, but butter and vinegar dressing over her dandelion greens and plantain would be better than nothing.

Glancing back at her pile of greens, she decided to steam them instead. Steamed greens would taste much better with butter instead of some strange vinegar mixture she tried to use as a salad dressing. Then there was all those mini-bottles of hot sauce that came in every MRE package. They could make use of that as well.

She'd just finished washing the greens and set them on a burner when Derek reached around her waist and turned the burner off.

His breath brushed her neck as he leaned closer and inhaled. "You always smell so good. Even using our soap and our deodorant, you always seem to smell sweet." He lightly brushed her shoulder with his lips.

Angel's knees almost buckled at the contact. She grabbed the counter for support before she melted into a puddle on the floor where she stood. What in the heck was happening to her and why did she seem so powerless to stop it?

Mace moved closer and pressed his lips to her other shoulder, nibbling lightly. "Did you know that we can smell your arousal? The sweet cream that slides from your slick channel smells as sweet as you do and intoxicates us. You cannot hide it."

Derek growled against her neck and she shivered at the sensation of his warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. It sounded so strange, so primal she could almost believe they were something more than they seemed. She shook her head to clear it. They were so close. Too close. Their proximity made it hard to think, to breathe. Even the air seemed thick. Too thick to draw into her lungs as she attempted to gather her failing wits.

"You cannot deny wanting us. It is there in the way you move, the way your heart pounds when we draw near. It is in your very breath."

Goodness, Derek could talk. If she wasn't careful, he would talk her straight into one of those beds. Suddenly, a vision of the two twin beds pushed together into a king-sized bed, filled her mind and she almost groaned. She couldn't do this. She couldn't be with two men at the same time. She was too staid, too boring. Even Jacob had known that.

What had he called her? Vanilla. That was it. He'd said she would always be vanilla and why should he settle for someone so plain, so boring as she, especially when she wouldn't put him above all else? If he thought saying that would make her change her mind, he'd been mistaken. His cruel words merely fueled her desire to train for the marathon. To prove that she wasn't just vanilla. A marathon winner couldn't possibly be something so plain. Could she?

Now she knew what he meant. She finally figured it out. She wasn't exciting enough in bed for him. He'd callously taken her virginity, not bothering to see to her needs, then called her a prude. Angel didn't like to think of herself as a prude. Maybe she was just inexperienced. The thought gave her pause. What if she did sleep with these two men? She could hardly get farther from vanilla than that. Having a menage a trois was definitely not vanilla. It was at least strawberry, wasn't it?

When they each cupped one of her breasts and feathered their thumbs over her erect nipples, she was lost. Nothing could convince her she was something plain ever again. It took courage to do what she'd done over the last few days. She'd had the courage to fight her way free of her captors and she had the courage to stay here with these men for the last few days. Now, she would have the courage to grab onto this opportunity and hold on tight.

Didn't every one of her friends at work fantasize over this very thing? What would it be like to have two men dedicated to seeing to her pleasure? Perhaps now she would find out.

The two hands at her breasts and the two mouths nibbling at her neck were enough to make her moan. The sound came from somewhere deep within her. Being so daring felt strange, yet wonderful. Never in her life had she had the courage to step forward and take what she wanted like this. This time, however, she intended to do just that.

He and Luke were already up by the time the sun peeked over the horizon. Taking a deep breath, he bent to wiggle the toe of Sabrina’s boots. It was the only way they found to awaken her that didn’t send her into a screaming fit that scared the boys.

Before he touched his mate’s toe, he glanced over at the two cubs, barely four years old, and decided to let them wake her instead. If she intended to be their mother, she would need to get used to them disturbing her sleep.

Moving to the boys’ bed, he gazed down at them for a moment, wondering what it would be like to be their father—one of their fathers—and decided he liked the idea. They were good boys. The two of them were cubs he would be proud to call his own and one day bring them fully over into their world.
Get a move on in there, will you? I’m fucking starving and home isn’t getting any closer, dammit!

Daniel mentally shot Luke the finger, then reached down to wake the boys. The moment they woke, he entered their minds and took charge. He didn’t want to mess with their memories, but was painfully obvious that giving them time wasn’t helping much.

He found the memories of the pair of cougars mutilating, then devouring the boys’ parents and dulled them to the point that it would seem a distant memory—more like a bad dream than the frightening reality they had lived through. Neither of the boys said a word since Sabrina found them. Like it or not, today Sabrina would see some good come of his being a shifter.

The fire heating his back was beginning to grow too warm, while the front of him was still cold. Slowly standing, he faced the fire. “I would have you painted nude. I would watch to make certain the artist didn’t do anything improper or offensive.”

She chuckled. “You don’t think it’s improper to want me to sit nude before two men, while one paints my likeness for all the world to see?”

“Real art is often nude.” He shifted to the opposite end of the hearth to warm his cold side.

“I suppose you know that for certain. Or are you basing your knowledge on the nudes over the saloon bars?”

“You have got to be freezing over there. Come over to the fires. You are wasting your time watching out the window. “Oh, by the way, my name is Justus Cole,” he added.

* * * *

“My name is Toney Remy. I’ll call you, Justus, if I may? It doesn’t appear we are going to have much need of formality.”

He flashed a smile. “I’d like that, ma’am. No reason we cannot be friendly.” Moving to the opposite side of the hearth, he tore off a piece of meat with strong white teeth. Chewing as though starved, he opened his coat and slid it from his broad shoulders.

She couldn’t help notice that his clinging clothing revealed a narrow waist and tight rounded buttocks. A wide belt of his gun holster held the material tight across his pelvis, revealing the erection beneath his leather pants. Damn, he has a good-looking body. As for his face, the whiskers made him look grubby and in need of a good scrubbing, still it appeared to be a strong, masculine face. He had dark green eyes that reminded her of jewels and light brown hair similar to the little girl that used to live down the lane from her childhood home.

“I could suggest going to your town.” She didn’t want to be rude.

“Ooooh.” Gold flecks danced, super-natural jewels on their bed of thick, dark velvet. “My God, Mike. What are you trying to…”

“I thought you knew.” A quick repetition of the maneuver brought much the same response as before. From her.. Another closing and opening, coupled with a little bit of the thrusting experience had taught no woman could truly resist, not for very long, and Jasmine misted again. She misted rigorously, her gasp sharper this time and the ensuing groan deeper and more pronounced. The dancing motes of gold in her eyes came even more magically alive as she did. More magically frantic.

Of course, her reaction seemed nothing when compared to his.

Unable to suppress it an instant longer, Mike groaned at last. It was a low and rolling sound, indicative of rising stress in a body grown too tight, a cock and balls grown so blissfully and unbelievably tight and heavy that not groaning was no longer a viable option.

He’d thought to do it again. Thought to move the imprisoned digits inside her. But Jasmine took action of her own.

Her internal misting grew stronger still. More self-absorbed, and far more absorbing. And with it came a new and visceral tingling in parts of Mike’s anatomy that in the same instant began to demand their fair share of that heavenly misting. Parts that had never, in all his life or his memory, been quite so demanding before.

That night I had no candles lit or any seductive music playing. Yes, I wanted a romantic evening with the woman, but she was denying her feelings for me. If I had all that makeout shit going on when she got there, she would have run like a bat out of hell--if she even came. I might have seemed cocky when I was with her, but just between you and me, I was very unsure of her coming.

As I walked across the smooth, tiled floor with two wineglasses, my questions were laid to rest at the knocking of the door. Setting the glasses down on the end table, I opened the door, and there she was, looking like some black Russian princess. Her gray and white cashmere sweater hugged her upper torso, elevating her rounded breasts. And her white pants squeezed her thighs perfectly, begging for me to get between them. She seemed to have shrunk down into her skin, uneasy by my stare.

"I know this outfit looks stupid. My sister bought it for me. She says it's fashionable," she mumbled, peering down at the floor.

I placed my index finger under her chin and lifted her gaze up to mine.

"I don't know about fashionable, but it's very sexy on you," I replied, pulling her in for a kiss, but as always, her moralistic flaw forced her to withdraw from my invitation.

She walked gracefully around the apartment, her cat-like eyes surveying the surroundings.

"Where's the soft music and the candlelight, Powell?" she asked, surprisingly. Grabbing the wineglasses, I stared at her and put on my serious lawyer façade.

"Why would I have all of that?"

"Isn't this another attempt to get me into bed?"

"No. You wish. Like I said, celebration dinner. Man, Cassy, and I have the ego?" I handed her one of the wineglasses.

Reverse psychology is always a useful tool. If I couldn't seduce her, I'd make her believe she was seducing me.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Bobby."

I brought in the glass of wine and set it down on the table.

"I'm not a one-dimensional soap opera character, Cassy."

Guilt is also a good weapon. I pulled the chair out for her, and as she looked at me like a wounded animal, I compared it to the lustful look I received when we first met.

"Bobby, I'm really sorry. I tend to be too judgmental at times. Can I make up for my insincere attitude?" She approached me and placed her hand on my shoulder, massaging it in a comforting motion.

A grin creased across the corners of my mouth.

"A kiss would be nice."

Hey, I hope you didn't expect me to go the entire night without flirting.

To my surprise, she drew close to me and grabbed onto my arm. Then she pulled me down to her lips, but, alas, it was a simple peck on the cheek.

"How's that?"

"Not what I had in mind, but it'll do for now."

As I sat across from her, many questions bounced around in my head. Had she ever thought about me? Was I on her mind 24/7, the way she was on mine? If she wanted to resist me so damn badly, then why did she come in the first place? I took a chance on my last thought and decided to give in life in our conversation.

"Why'd you come?" I inquired, swallowing a big mouthful of pasta. Her sleek black brows arched as she sat her glass of wine down on the table.

"Not for the reason you're thinking. Tom is at the police station, Claudia is spending the weekend with her best friend, and Clint is over at his uncle's. Just was bored, really." she replied.

Personally, I didn't believe her answer. How could all those activities be happening at once?

"What a coincidence. Seems like fate wanted you to come here." The long, cylindrical piece of pasta flipped between her maroon velvet lips as she winked at me.

"You don't believe me, do you?" I picked up my napkin and wiped the remaining marinara sauce from the corner of my mouth.

"Did I say that?"

"No, but…"

"So you're a mind reader now, huh?" She paused and stared at me mischievously from the rim of the wine glass.

"You know what, Bobby? I don't think I want to read your mind. It might scare me," she teased as she crunched on the crisp leaves of her salad.

I picked up the fork and dug the silver prongs into the mass of lettuce and dressing across her plate.

"If you could read my mind, you'd be blushing all day, my dear Cassy. Trust me on that one." She opened her mouth wide and I slipped the fork inside, imagining my tongue there instead.

Down, down she goes, fingers probing. I know I’m gushing, drenched. I’m fat. She seems not to notice, finds my clitoris and presses gently. I am ready to erupt from my skin.

Her fingers wrap around my butt, move around like a white eel, squeeze. I groan, groan again, I feel her lips on mine, her warm breath. Her skin is like satin, so thin, barely wrapped around her muscles and bones. I have never felt anything so beautiful in my life.

Kisses again. Her breathing is swelling. One more kiss, then an adjustment to now steaming water, throwing steam out, beading on her white skin. She turns, smiles at me and curls a finger to my eyes. I obey. I’d lose twenty pounds if she asked me to and would have my lips sewn together if that would make her happy. I’d do anything, everything, just to receive one more kiss, one more touch, one more pungent gasp of breath cruising from those lips, warming my neck, burning my soul as they do.

Shower adjustments aim the water tendrils away as she sets me down. Then, like a prank-filled kid, sprays me, head to un-pedicured toes. Now, water and sex bring giggles from her, then me. Then she is kneeling before me—soap, razor, smiles, mischief in her eyes. I can’t seem to breath, and my eyes simply cannot blink as she soaps me, leans in, kisses me, mumbles something. I’m fair, like her anyways, so she shaves every hair from my cunt like she owns it, which she does.

Bath time doesn’t seem to be on her mind, so she stands and I gasp seeing the space between her thighs. She’s one of those girls, so thin nothing touches. I can see every vein pushing against her white skin. I almost orgasm just peeking from her toe to her face, nothing so marvelous have I seen before.

Adjusting the spray, she kneels before me, green bottle eyes just inches away, pouting, white teeth biting those lips, pink tongue edged and pulsing as she wraps her fingers around the back of my head, pulls me in and lights a kiss along my lips. Tongue on tongue, lips on lips, gentle, probing, breathing increasing. She is not rough. There are girls like that. Everything about her is so miniature—hands, fingers, tongue, body. Except her eyes and so-full lips. They’re perfect. The kisses go on and on, as do her fingers along my spine and rump.

My breasts are large, one of the good things left from the younger me. She has none almost. As they meet, press bodies against bodies, and then, as if she knows, she moves away, not far, takes a breast and touches it sweetly. I see her body shudder as she takes a nipple between her lips, presses, then closes her eyes and grips it nice with her teeth. My body trembles as a semi-orgasm ripples through it.

We’re in suspended animation for some moments, then she breaks away, kisses me again, and with fingers like kite tails, she turns me. I’m on my fat hands and knees. I feel my belly, the folds creasing. I’m never comfortable with my body, but she is. I love her for that, whoever the fuck she is.

I’ve had rough sex before and liked the carnal stages of it, but she is different. She is slow, gentle, almost sweet and kind. Now I feel her soaped hands washing my back, my butt, my anus, a single finger. I begin to shake and moan. She moans. I have never been so clean since a child when my mother bathed me in our tub. Then I feel pressure, her fingers are pressed against the opening of my vagina.

I gulp, wheeze, my back arches as it tingles in pleasure. She pushes her fingers into me. To the knuckles. “Oh my God,” I whisper, glad there is water, mine and the shower everywhere, masking my orgasm as I bow my chin to my collarbones, almost weeping from her touch.

Time moves right along as she uses her lips, tongue and fingers on me. Deep, not so deep and I orgasm. Then, at its epicenter, she simply slides her tiny fist inside of me and it is so gentle. I begin to dream as I feel it deep, struck as deep as it might ever go. I orgasm again, tears and unfamiliar sounds spilling from my throat and past my vibrato lips.

Releasing me, she pulls her fist from my cunt, turns me and, seeing that I am weeping, crawls upon my knees, straddles me, wraps her legs around my waist, then her hands around my head as my arms wrap around her body. Kisses, lips, tongues again. Steam and water blast everywhere around us. Her tongue plunges deep into my mouth, seeking, I presume, wanting, I hope, as my tongue mates with hers and we kiss for what in my mind is forever, though that is only my own way of seeing this remarkable moment.

Totally in charge, she morphs, breaks away and stands. I gasp again, for the whiteness of her body almost hurts my eyes as she extends tendril fingers to me, which I take as she helps me struggle to my feet, holds me so I do not collapse, then waits. She is a patient Queen Bitch, so caring I do not know if I could ever be with a callous man again. Their skin, from this moment on, would always feel as sandpaper and hurt silhouetted against the memory of her skin, my skin for a moment, this I know.

She leads me naked from the shower and there it looms, the bedroom, which she leads me into. I am, for the moment, a Goddess, a selected pleasure prize for a Queen so elegant, so mesmerizing and sexual I still don’t believe any of it is real. On the bed now, she nears, sits, leans and kisses me. Yes it is real. So very fucking real.

She boldly pressed her front against his back, forcing him to acknowledge her and the sizzling attraction between them. As if he could ignore it. That quick, he grew hard and stiff with wanting her, his erection pressing insistently against the fly of his khaki’s.

“Look at me, Keelan.”

He dropped his head, knowing what would happen the second he did. Her light, unexpected touch caused him to jerk. He closed his eyes when her hands slid down his arms toward his hands. She coaxed him into releasing the dishes.

“Look at me, Keelan.”

When he didn’t obey her command, she lifted his arm high enough for her to duck underneath and squeeze herself between him and the counter until they were aligned from chests to thighs, forcing him to acknowledge her and their undeniable attraction.

Her fiery determination turned him on and he knew he had to do something fast or he’d succumb and take her passionately until neither of them could move. Just as he attempted to take a much needed step away from her, she grabbed his shirt and held him in place.

She rose up on her toes, placing her mouth inches below his. “I want you so badly, Keelan, I ache with it.” She lowered her lashes and nipped lightly at his jaw, then used her soft tongue to soothe the love bite. “Stop treating me like a fragile piece of glass. I won’t break. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.”

Bracing his hands on either side of her hips on the counter to keep from touching her, he shuddered and groaned, holding fast to his dwindling resolve. “Nataleigh—”

“Don’t tell me no.” The plea was filled with a wealth of emotion as her lips traveled up to his ear. “I want the closeness and intimacy of making love with you. My desire for you is so strong it consumes me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he battled between right and wrong. The words she’d just spoken were so honest, saying so much about her feelings for him. She wanted him and she was allowing her emotions and passions to run wild and free.

Seemingly taking his silence as agreement, she tugged his shirt from the waistband of his pants, shoved it up and over his head and tossed it to the floor at their feet. She flattened her palms on his bare chest and her breathing deepened as she stroked his taut, heated flesh and trailed her fingers down to his hard abdomen. Arousal surged though his bloodstream and arrowed straight to his groin. His erection pulsed against the fly of his khaki pants.

Bolder still, she dragged her tongue along the shell of his ear, then dipped inside. “I’m wet with the thought of having you deep inside of me, Keelan,” she whispered huskily.

Her thigh lifted high along his thigh so that she cold rub herself against his erection.

“Touch me and you’ll see for yourself.”

The last forty-five minutes of that first conversation was filled with minute details as they brought each other to blazing climax. His explanation of how he would treat her body, how his tongue would circle her hard clit, thrusting into the warm darkness of her wet pussy, drove Jeanine to distraction. Before he had even moved on to telling her how he would slip his fingers into her, she had her own covered in her moisture. Never having been one who was big into masturbation, the amazement she felt as two of her fingers slid sleekly in, was only beaten by the bone-jarring thrill at the feel of it.

Matt told her to feel him touching her, and she swore she could. Caught up in the excitement of what her body felt, she drove him full speed ahead to his own orgasm. Just as expertly, she described how she would suck his cock, her tongue tracing the length of the large, full vein on the under side. Words flew back and forth through the atmosphere; words of lust and passion; words of encouragement and excitement.

They fucked that first day, hard and fast. Jeanine felt release wash over her four times, filling her hand as well as the seat of her desk chair with her musky sweetness. His description of how his dark cock would look, driving deep into her pink pussy, coated with her fluid caused an explosion in her that left her legs weak and her heart pounding against her ribs.

As he reached orgasm he told her, filled the screen with ‘m’s. She talked him through it, begging him to give it to her, to plant his seed deep in her hungry pussy, telling him how good he felt. When he was able to make his fingers work, he informed her that she was incredible. The idea that she had been able to make him cum, with nothing more than words typed onto a screen sent another thrill through her. The fact that he assured her that she was one of very few that had been able to make him cum was an even bigger thrill.

Underneath me, my boyfriend Kevon groaned and exhaled, "Oh, man!"

"Oh, baby," I moaned, as I moved my hips slowly, trying to get more of him inside me. My white satin and lace camisole was bunched up around my waist as I rode Kevon.

"Oh, man," he groaned again--weakly.

"OH, baby," I pretended to shout passionately.

"OH, man," he really groaned, with a loud grunt and then a loud exhale.

I kept on moving my hips, even after he came, pretending to like it. And then he promptly fell asleep, right where he was. So much for me being on top, I thought.

If you must know, I read in some woman's magazine that being on top could extend lovemaking and give the woman--me--a greater degree of control over both her orgasms and his, too.

 Yeah, right. Not with this guy, baby!

How such an interesting man could be so--how shall I put this, disinteresting, is beyond me.

As his cock went flaccid inside me and he went into dreamland, I stared angrily at him and wondered what on earth I ever saw in him. He was a tall, raffishly handsome black man with eyes that just made me melt--at first. He was well-off, well-read, and well-endowed--too well-endowed, as I found out later. I also found out later he's kind of a jerk, despite his urban sophistication.

And I swear, he's a terrible lover. Like the song says, he comes on all grabbin' and clutchin'. Then he fucks me like I'm a piece of meat, comes inside me and falls asleep.

 Some women love a big dick. I do too, it's just that, in this case, the wizard doesn't know how to use his wand very well -- and 'foreplay' is not a word that he understands.

This cat just don't know, baby!

And he complains my pussy is too tight! This in the same breath that he's in rapture about my body. I love to do power yoga, and it shows. At thirty I have no stretch marks and a firm body.

I climbed off him and looked gratefully at the condom that had successfully contained him which was unrolled down to the serial number, and then some. I sighed quietly, but sadly. On another, more talented, more thoughtful man, this dick would have had me on my knees and thanking the Lord Himself.

I carefully took off the condom and threw it in the trash. Then I covered him to his chest so I couldn't see his offending organ any more. He never stirred an eyelash, didn't even turn in bed. I looked at him, all sprawled across my beautiful brass bed, and smiled without affection.

I looked at my alarm clock, its green numbers glowing in the dark. My boyfriend, asleep and snoring at ten-fifteen after maybe ten minutes of lovemaking.

 I crossed my bedroom and looked out the window at the moon. Then I went into the bathroom and closed the door without turning on the light, leaving the night light on. I slipped off my camisole and draped it over the towel rack.

I looked at myself, naked, in the mirror, the shadows sensuously following my curves. I'm five foot four, with light chocolate brown skin, brown wavy hair past my shoulders, and brown eyes the same color as my skin. I have a slender, petite, curvy figure, with nice perfectly round breasts, a small torso, and a slim waist that widened into wide, curvy hips and a nice round bubble butt.

Not bad for a woman who recently turned thirty, huh?

My only really bad spot--in my opinion--is that I have a lot of hair around my pussy. Some women have, like, a nice little patch of hair just above their pussies, while other women have hair all over their crotch. I'm in that category--I have a circle of curly black hair all around my pussy. I contemplate shaving down there on a regular basis, but I just don't want to mess with it, on top of shaving my armpits and my legs.

 You hear me, ladies?

"Veronica Moore,"--yes, that's my name--"Girl, you got yourself a real lemon of a man. Too bad you can't make lemonade with him."

 Believe me, I have tried. Oh, baby, how I've tried.

And, on top of everything else, I hadn't had any for eight months before I met Kevon. Trust me on this one guys, there is nothing worse than a woman who's sexually frustrated. To say that I'm horny would be putting it mildly.

I looked at my pussy again, all hidden underneath shadow and hair, and sighed. I wasn't even close to having an orgasm. I wasn't even wet. In the semi-dark, I put a towel on the toilet seat and sat down.

I palmed my breasts, trailed my fingertips across my skin--arms, neck, shoulders, face, lips. I sucked and licked on my fingers, then across my nipples, down my tummy and up my thighs, until I could run my fingers through that circle of hair. I could feel that electric tightness. I closed my eyes and arched my back, not even bothering to imagine another man down there. I took my sweet time, and when I came, I just let the waves of orgasmic ecstasy wash over me. I inhaled sharply, exhaled, inhaled sharply again, exhaled.

I opened my eyes and I realized I was crying. Crying for the loving I was missing. Somewhere out there was the one man for me. And the man in my bed wasn't him.

Kevon may have been an interesting man, but he was a lousy boyfriend, in addition to being a poor lover. I made up my mind right then and there that Kevon would be out of my life by the end of the week. Any excuse to break up with him would be perfectly fine by me.

I dried my eyes, put my white camisole back on, and carefully climbed back in bed. My last thought before I fell asleep was that the next man I meet had better be able to treat me like a lady.

Dimitri held her protectively to his side as they strolled along their hall. "Do you really want to go to your room right away? We could always go back to my room. My sister more than likely won't be back until the early hours."

Not really sure why she was doing it, other than the warm wetness between her legs, Anna walked steadily past her own door and turned to face him at his own. "Why not?"

Without letting go of her, he unlocked the door and ushered her through it. Feeling his large hands wrap around her waist as he pulled her even tighter to him, the hardness of his cock pressed into her ass. Fear crept into the periphery of her mind, fleetingly, to be quickly pushed away by the absolute carnal need racing through her.

Turning in his embrace, she reached up to pull his mouth down to her own. His answering hunger sent chills through her as their tongues collided and waged a war. His tongue drove into her mouth, searching, exploring. This kiss filled her mouth and all of her senses as no other man had before. The new sensation made her breath catch as waves of excitement filled her.

Digging her fingers into the hardness of his shoulders, she fought to keep her balance. Her legs felt as though they had turned to jelly. Moaning deeply, hungrily, she pulled her mouth from his. "I need to sit down. Either that or you are going to have to hold me up."

"At this point, I don't think I'd be able to." He scooped her into his arms, held her against his chest and stepped over to his bed. He settled on the edge of the bed.

Anna perched on his lap. Her stomach tightened and rippled gently at the feel of his immense hardness where it pressed into her hip. His gaze locked with hers as his hands traced over her, warmed her, set her on fire. Fingertips, gentler than butterflies' wings, smoothed over the rise of her breast, circled around, closed slowly in on the reaching nipple. At the soft touch of one finger slipping over it, Anna's breath caught again and her eyes closed on a moan.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"If you do, I won't be held responsible for my actions."

The quietly spoken and very honest confession was all it took. Dimitri pulled her to him, tighter and curled around so she was on the bed beneath him. They explored each other's bodies with hands, lips and tongues. Within no time at all, their clothes littered the floor. Dimitri trailed hot kisses over her. His tongue and fingers tortured her breasts, erect nipples and on down her ribcage.

No man had ever touched her the way he did. She could feel the very tremulous hold she had on reality slip more with every touch. A glorious heaviness filled the pit of her stomach as he moved slowly lower. She'd heard somewhere that it was possible to have an orgasm just from someone touching your skin, but she never believed it…until then!

"Oh, my God," came out in one long moan as he gently spread her knees and lowered his mouth to the warm fold at the very top of her leg. The orgasm charged through her. Fireworks exploded behind her tightly shut eyelids. Her hands fisted into the sheets beneath her as she tried desperately to hold on to the madly spirally world.

She wasn’t wearing panties! Just like I thought!

I kept pulling her skirt down, past her perfectly proportioned thighs, past her knees, down her calves and then to her feet. Finally she stepped out of it. With one neat toss, the skirt landed on the table on top of her shirt. She turned around. I got to see that her body was as shapely from the front as it looked from behind.

Her pussy was completely shaved. And was already visibly wet.

All at once, I grabbed her waist and tugged her toward me. She placed her hands on my shoulders. The pubic area was smooth—her pussy was small and tight, the lips of her pussy pulled in against the line of her hips. I gently began to taste her pussy. I ran my tongue along the groove in between. Then I used the tip of my tongue to part the groove and fluttered my tongue inside her.

I felt her nails dig in my shoulders. She gasped.

“Am I good?” I pulled back somewhat.

Shauna grinned wickedly. “Good enough that I need to lie down.”

I laid her gently down on the ottoman. Her round booty was almost hanging off one end and her beautiful hair was hanging off the other end.

Now that I had my hands free, it gave me the chance to really explore her pussy and savor every nook and cranny of it. It had been a long time indeed since I had last eaten a woman’s pussy. But I still knew what to do. Eating pussy was an art form, at least to me. And, like all great art, it could not be rushed.

Shauna smiled up at me and willingly spread her legs for me. I kissed along the inner part of her leg, starting at her ankle, slowly kissed my way along her calf, past her knee, and onto her inner thigh. Finally I made it back to her pussy.

I lightly licked along the groove, gently sucked on her clit. As I went back down to her groove, I used the tip of my tongue to start working the folds of her pussy lips.

Shauna got very quiet. Women do that when they’re getting pleasure. Then she gasped and arched her back off the ottoman. “Ooh! Ooh, yeah, that shit feels good!”

I just kept on working her pussy lips. “How am I doing?”

Shauna ran her nails through my hair. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sugar.”

I grinned as I continued. I could tell I was definitely making progress because her pussy just got wetter by the minute. The lips were starting to become puffy. Then I paused in my licking, using my fingers to gently stroke her pussy. Then I spread her pussy lips apart with my fingers and stuck my tongue inside.

Shauna arched off the ottoman, gasping heavily. “Oh, sugar!”

I could feel her body tensing up. I still didn’t rush it.

Shauna’s voice began reaching octaves I didn’t know she could reach. She began to squirm. “Oh,” she squealed. “Oh god! I’m going to…I’m going to…ooohhh!” Finally she sank back down, still breathing deeply. “Oh my god,” she said reverently, her hand on her chest.

“I got the feeling you needed that.”

Shauna laughed a little, still panting. “You can sure say that again.”

“Glad I could be of service.”

Shauna said, “Why don’t you take off your coat and stay a while, sugar?”

I looked down and realized while Shauna was naked I was still fully dressed. I grinned, despite myself. “I suppose that would be the polite thing to do.”

Shauna laughed. “Here, let me help.”

“Okay.” I helped her sit up.

She quickly slipped off my jacket, then lifted my arms over my head and slipped off my sweater. Then she began running her hands all over my torso—arms, shoulders, chest and tummy.

She reached up to touch my face and started kissing me again, longing and hunger in each kiss. With one hand placed on my face, her other hand strayed off my shoulder, down my bare chest and tummy and cupped my cock and balls through my pants.

Shauna smiled a lustful smile. “Oh, my.”

With one hand, she pushed on my chest so I was sitting on the couch again. It took her less than a minute to take off my shoes, my socks, then unbuckle my belt and pull my slacks down. Then, without hesitation, she slipped her nails under the waistband of my boxers, smoothly pulled them down and carelessly tossed them behind her.

Shauna suddenly gasped.

“What?”

“My god, that’s what I call a cock!”

“Glad you like it.”

“Do you know what I want to do with this cock?”

“Whatever you want?”

“Close enough. Actually, I want to do this.” Shauna wasted no time. She spread my legs and moved in between, running her nails over my legs. She used the tips of her nails to scratch my crotch. It was my turn to gasp. The feel of her nails on my skin was incredibly sensual. She was driving me crazy. My cock obediently rose to full erection.

Her hips moved like a machine, back and forth, and up and down. Suddenly she screamed, "Now! Fill me up! Now!"

Much to his surprise and extreme pleasure, Gary came on command. When he heard Lily's words, his cock convulsed, sending streams of cum into her tight pussy.

When she felt his hot liquid blasting into her, Lily exploded, her skin erupting into Goosebumps as her orgasm seized her. "Oh my God. Oh my God!"

She reached down and grabbed Gary's chest. squeezing his nipples as she leaned further back, sending streaks of pain through his body, pain that he instantly transformed into pleasure as he felt more and more bumps on her skin.

Spent, Lily collapsed on his chest. They breathed together, chests rising and falling in unison, their hot breath wafting over each other's necks.

"Jesus, Gary." She laughed. "You are one terrific fuck."

Still in the twilight zone between fully awake and fully asleep, I was slowly becoming aware of pleasant sensations.

It seemed like I was still in dreamland. In the dream, I was getting one hell of a blow job. An incredibly realistic dream, I could feel the warmth and moisture surround my cock.

But I also felt other sensations.

I felt soft fingers caressing my skin, the tips of long square tipped acrylic nails softly scratching my skin, and warm breath on the tip of my cock, followed by soft, warm lips. Then I felt silky-smooth hair on my thigh. My right leg was being gently squeezed in between soft, ample, natural breasts.

A sweet female voice said, "Is my big, strong police officer awake yet?"

I snapped instantly awake. This was no dream! "Okay, Vanessa, I'm awake."

Vanessa stopped having her way with my cock, and moved back up, to snuggle up against me. "Good morning, baby."

I turned my face, to look in her soft brown doe eyes. "Good morning, sweetness."

She caressed my face with the back of her left hand, and her right hand rested on my tummy. She softly nuzzled her lips against the nape of my neck. "Did you like your wakeup call?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Why don't I pick up where I left off?"

Starting at the small hollow at the base of his throat, Ally kissed and licked her way down Steve’s torso. Pausing only briefly to pay special attention to his nipples as well as the bottom of his rib cage. When she came to his belly button, she slid her tongue into it and felt him shudder ever so slightly. She could taste the saltines of his heated skin mixed with a light underlying taste of his soap.

As she came to her knees at his feet, Ally opened her eyes to gaze upon the object of her desire. Her hands had been busy working his cock and balls into a frenzy. A small droplet of his juice glistened at the tiny opening. Sliding one hand up along the shaft, Ally squeezed more juice from him as she gently massaged his balls with the other. The sight of this was too much for Ally to resist. Her tongue darted out to remove the pre-cum from its precarious position.

When her tongue slid across the shiny purple head of his cock and her warm breath blew over his sensitive skin, Steve shuddered again. Looking up Ally stated, “I’m not really sure what I’m doing. So if I do something wrong just let me know.”

Steve dropped to his knees in front of her, “Are you saying that you want a lesson?” “Well, you did say that you were going to train me, didn’t you?”

“Then come over here sweetheart and let the training begin.”

Dayana closed her eyes when their lips touched. But she opened them widely again when she felt hands on her breasts. She looked down and Wendell's hands were on her silver-clad breasts, cupping and squeezing and stroking gently.

"Do you like these black titties?" she asked him.

"Hell, yeah," Wendell nodded.

"Here, baby," Dayana laughed. She pulled the top of her dress down to expose her breasts to Wendell. She nearly melted as his hands gently touched her bare breasts. His touch felt even better without a layer of fabric in the way.

Wendell stared at her breasts as he caressed them. They were the same color, coffee with milk added, the nipples a darker shade of brown. He licked at her nipple. Dayana moaned and arched her back into him, slipping her hand around the back of his head, allowing Wendell easier access. He took her nipple further into his mouth and began to nibble and suck on it.

Dayana's answer was a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth.

She didn't protest one bit when she felt his hands tug at the bottom hem of her dress and pull it up, felt his hands brush her bare ass. She gasped and started when she felt his hand on her feminine parts. She felt his hand slow down.

"Oh god, don't stop, baby," she pleaded with him.

Wendell's hand started moving again. Then the pleasure took over, and she moved her hips against his hand until she was dripping with desire.

A man who looked exactly like Steele walked out the door. Are you serious that God made two men who looked like Steele? He had on nothing but a pair of sweat pants. His well-built chest waiting to be touch—needed to be touched by her. Tiana frowned when her body again responded to this man as it did Steele. Boy oh boy, she needed another pair of panties because these were surely soaked. Her pussy pulsed and pushed more of her juices.

Both men inhaled deeply and she was sure that they smelled her.

“Who’s your friend?” the guy spoke.

“Spencer, this is Tiana Jenkins, Tiana, this is my twin, Spencer.”

Spencer groaned low. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Tiana was able to get out when Spencer moved closer to her.

Spencer grasped her hand, turned it over and placed a kiss on the back. Tiana shivered when he ran his tongue over the vein. She lost her breath when she saw Spencer was sporting a hard-on in those sweat pants.

“I thought you were leaving?” Steele asked from beside them.

“Well, I was, but now I see no reason to leave. Do you know what she is, dear brother?”

Steele looked at her, then back to Spencer. “Yes.”

Tiana shook her head, pulling her hand away from Spencer. “Wait a minute. I don’t know what you two are thinking, but I don’t do threesomes. No matter how good the men look.”

Both men stared at each other for a moment and then Steele shook his head. They stared at her, deep in her eyes.

She swore she saw their eyes glowing before her eyes blinked a couple of times. It took too much will power to keep them open and the next thing she knew, she was falling asleep.

She stood up licking her lips and holding the cool moist glass to her face and jaw. I said nothing but stood up, looking at her. It was like standing in Grant’s Bar in Times Square and trying to nurse a hangover with sex, because that’s the only cure that seemed to work. And there’d be loads of horny transvestite trollops just showing off their skin and hungry mouths lusting for a big dick. How many hangovers did I struggle through in those days? Each one soothed by my horniness reaching fruition and explosion followed by complete relaxing peace. I stared at Elizabeth’s mother as hungrily as she looked at me. There was no way out of it. I took a chance and eased myself closer to her. But what was I doing? Did I expect her to fall on her knees and give me a blowjob? Everything wasn’t Times Square where the world is separated between hand-job, blowjob, and a fucking up the ass. Yet why was I bringing Times Square to Brooklyn? It was like I was lusting after Rolly Polly when he didn’t know I existed. Boy, I had fallen to the pits and I didn’t care! The only way down was to go lower, and which I certainly did…

We fell into each other’s arms like we had not seen each other in years or decades or millenniums. It’s amazing how potential lovers do that so easily, even though its wrong, and it’s even more amazing how she held on to her glass and eased it down as we fell to the coach, kissing and hugging and feeling each other up. She easily worked my zipper down as I pulled the front of her t-shirt up over her sagging bosom. Large nipples circled around her flabby tits. She looked like a worn out Times Square whore trying to get guys for a few dollars and having to be content with just a few coins. In an instant I was inserting into my cock into her. Bitch! Cunt! Whore! I thought. That’s what she was, a drunken slut hungry for cock and that’s what she was getting! In and out, in and out, over and over! Boy, I was moments from shooting my jism in her, the hungry whore, when I heard Elizabeth say, “Mom, not again?”