by Mj Fields
“Oh, Lord … Yes!” I cry out as I bite down on his shoulder while he fucks me with his fingers, hitting my G-spot over and over again. And he continues working me, stretching me, pleasuring me, his mouth still on my tit, sucking, tugging, working me into pre-orgasmic bliss.
“Sweets, you are so tight, so hot, so ready.”
“Yes!” I cry out trying to contain my approaching orgasm. “Oh, no …”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Take it; it’s yours.”
“Not yet. Too soon,” I whimper, my legs clenched around his hand, hoping to slow his movement and my orgasm.
“Let go, Sweets. This one is all you.”
I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, wanting so badly to fall, but worried about what happens at the bottom. Will it be soft? Will I have fallen on a pillow or jagged rocks beneath the clouds obstructing my view?
“Let. Go,” he commands.
I’m falling, My body is a mass of tingles and zaps. My release is unbelievable and seemingly everlasting. I have no control over this orgasm, given to me by a complete stranger. A stranger who seems to know my body more intimately than the man in my past or even myself. It’s so good … It feels so fucking good. This is ecstasy.
My eyes flutter open as he pushes the hair from my face, looking down at me with a reverence I have never been witness to, like I’m the star on some sort of TV or movie screen.
“Never seen a woman come so beautifully, Sweets, and I’ve seen a lot of—”
I raise my hand to cover his mouth. “Things HB should never say to a woman he’s about to fuck.”
“It was a compliment, Sweets. Take it as one.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s only a compliment when you haven’t heard it a million times before. You know all the men I’ve—”
He nips at my hand playfully. “Point taken.”
“Are you sure it was a point and not a fact?”
“I’m sure your pussy is so tight I’m about to break a rule and go down on you before I attempt to shove a semi into a one-car garage.”
“How can something like that … something”—I laugh—“so incredibly filthy completely turn me on?”
He pulls his fingers out from between my legs, leaving me feeling an emptiness I’ve never felt. So empty I clamp my legs shut and squeeze my insides to ease the actual physical discomfort I feel. Then he pops a kiss to my cheek. “It’s a gift.” He then stands off the bed, and I finally get a glimpse of him, of his … ‘semi’.
Holy shit!
“Was I right, or was I right?” He smiles with a kind of confidence that he seriously deserves to don. Then he winks.
He. Freaking. Winks.
And I … I am done for.
I watch with utmost respect—okay, respect and a little worry—and admiration—yes, add admiration—at the size and the look of him. He’s extremely aesthetically pleasing.
Then realization hits me under the ribs that this is like going from doing flips on the floor mat to stepping on a beam for the first time. I’m not a child. Hell, I’ve given birth to one, so I know he’ll fit, but … damn.
That cocky grin spreads across his face as he tears open the condom then sheaths his manhood. “Guessing by the look on your face this is going to be your first time playing in the majors.” He walks to the edge of the bed, grabs an ankle, and flips me from my side to my back. Then he grabs the other and spreads my legs wide. His perfectly straight white teeth grip his plump lower lip as he groans then rakes his teeth over his plump lower lip. It falls out, and he swipes his tongue across them.
Eyes never leaving my center, he strokes himself. “Sweets, I promise you’re going to love me smashing your sweet little box.”
“Less talk, more smashing.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I told you I was starting with my face between your legs.” The man minces no words.
Lips against my inner thighs, my body immediately reacts of its own accord. My hips buck upward as his thick, full, delicious lips cover my center. I thrust up against his face and thread my fingers into his silky hair. I cry out as he spreads my folds open with his tongue and licks me with an intensity that I have never felt. He pushes his tongue inside of me, a growl proceeding him as he sucks up my juices. He begins to lick me from soaked center to clit at a frustratingly slow pace as I grind against his face.
Within seconds, my pussy pulses and my insides clench around his tongue. I groan as he thrusts his tongue deeper inside of me and swirls it around, licking every part of my insides.
I feel his finger—no, two—enter me, stretching me wider, and his thick, full lips surround my clit.
My body is on fire. The urge to come, overwhelming.
My legs crash around his head as I try to stop the orgasm that I feel coming.
I look between my legs and into his eyes, his brows knit. “You have to stop and fuck me or I’ll come,” I plead.
His brows soften, and a mischievous glint takes over his eyes as he smashes his face against my center, nibbling and sucking as I fight to withhold.
When he takes my clit between his teeth, I let go of his hair and grab the comforter.
“Let. Fucking. Go.”
I’m not falling this time. No, I’m exploding, my thighs shaking uncontrollably, as I feel my wetness actually seep from my core.
I feel hands grip my clenched knees and spread them wider, and I give in, completely and totally absorbed in what is most definitely the most intense and powerful orgasm I have ever felt. I’m not even sure it could be called an orgasm …
He removes his mouth, and I fight to catch my breath, but when I feel him between my legs again, my eyes fly open just in time to see his gorgeous face as his hands land on either side of mine and he thrusts fully into me.
I can’t breathe … Can’t fucking breathe I’m so full.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses between his teeth as he shoves a hand behind my head, presses his forehead against mine, and begins fucking me … hard.
“Delicious.” He thrusts. “Tight,” he groans. “Hot,” he hisses. “So fucking good,” he seethes as he continues fucking me through orgasms number three and four. Hell, maybe even five. I’ve lost track. When I think one is going to stop, another begins.
Smashed
“Jesus,” I exhale as I roll off her, my dick catching an immediate chill. “You good?”
“Mmhmm,” she sighs.
I roll to my side, prop my head up on my hand, and use the other to push back her jet-black waves that are clinging to the perspiration on her forehead. Perspiration or saliva. I feasted on her mouth and her pussy. Shit got messy in the hottest kind of way.
I don’t go down. Nope, does not happen. Breeds expectations. My cousins tell me I’m a selfish prick, and others tell me I have no idea what I’m missing. Dad’s voice trumps them all.
“It ain’t yours, don’t eat it. Might get food poisoning, My, and sometimes, that food poisoning could linger forever.”
Tonight, I went to the no-go zone. Wasn’t as a rite of passage or some shit. I needed to taste her, and once I did, I needed to eat her out. I know damn well she takes care of herself, and I can tell she’s not a club chick. She hated being up there, and she wanted zero attention. In fact, she looked annoyed, which is why I decided fuck it and played along with the guys. I don’t even know her. Broke my own rule, but it was totally fucking worth it. Her pussy tasted damn good. I’d be down there again if I thought she could handle it.
After pulling her hair away from her face, I’m happy to see her lips aren’t bruised; swollen, but not bruised. I’m going to guess her tasty lower lips didn’t fare as well. No way I’m going to look, though. Don’t want to see her any way but the way they were—sexy and swollen—when I went down on her.
“Breathe, Sweets.”
She finally exhales. “I think I’m dead.”
For a brief second, I worry that I hurt her, but when a slight smile plays on her lips, I realize she’s messin
g with me.
I have to restrain myself from taking her mouth again. She deserves a break after not just taking what I gave her but begging for more. Not all women can hang. I knew damn well she’d be able to. She’s a nine, maybe a ten on a good day. Other women are zeros to sixes; they fail to see the sport in fucking.
“Sweets, I’d really like your name.”
My alarm spouts off again, and I reach across her to snooze it and linger a bit, trying to remind myself I’m being a gentleman.
“That’s three times.” She slides down and out from under me.
I flop on my back and watch her stand. “I swear I’d give that ass a tap. Hell, maybe even a taste if I had more time.”
She turns and looks at me like I’m nuts.
Smiling, I look her over, and my eyes stall on a tattoo on her hip as she walks to the dresser, grabs a shirt, and slides it over her hot bod. I sit up to get a closer look before it disappears, because what I’m seeing makes no sense, and I swear, in the dim light, I also see a faint scar on her spine.
“That tat’s the—”
“Olympic Rings. It’s old.”
“Did I see a scar on your—”
She grabs my boxers off the floor and tosses them at me. They hit me in the face. Then she throws my pants. “Seriously, stop with the twenty questions. I haven’t asked about your ink. Next, I think you’ll be asking me when I cycle.” The sass in which she uses to shoot me down is cute, and so is the fact she blushes as she says it.
I step off the bed. “Wasn’t going to, but wouldn’t be against obtaining that information.”
My shirt hits my face as my phone rings, and by the ring tone, I know it’s Max.
“Save it, HB. Your next ride has arrived.”
I grab my phone and hit accept call. “You here, Max?”
“Been here, asshole.” He barks out a laugh. “If I get a ticket for being double parked, you’re paying for it and explaining it to my old man.”
“Where you at?” I watch as she shimmies on a pair of jeans. “Out front?”
“No, man, I’m at the bar with your boys. How do you not hear the music in the background?” Max asks.
“Maxie, I’m looking at the finest ass east of Fresno. Bound to miss a few things.”
“Bring it down here. Let me give it the Steel of approval.”
“You think I’m letting her come down there to get eye-fucked by you?” I joke, holding the phone to my shoulder with my ear as I pull on my boxers. “The fact you think she can move after what I just gave her—”
“Dear Lord, check your ego, HB,” she huffs.
I look over my shoulder, seeing her arms are crossed, and she looks a hell of a lot more than a one-off to me. She’s feisty and hot. I snap my teeth at her.
“After what, man?” Max asks.
“What is wrong with you?” She doesn’t laugh; she doesn’t have to—amusement is dancing like crazy in those sapphire blue eyes.
I turn my back to her and say serious as shit, “Sorry, Max, she’s barely moving.”
I feel a pillow hit the back of my head.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Bro, quit fucking around and get down here. I’m double parked.”
“Let me just check her pulse; make sure she’s still—”
Whack! Another pillow hits my back.
I hold back a laugh and finish, “—breathing.”
“Such an arrogant ass,” she huffs under her breath.
“Be down in two, Max.” I end the call, toss the phone onto the bed, and then throw on my shirt as I watch her fix her sex-fucked black waves.
I’m pretty damn sure this isn’t the alcohol fucking with my head; the cardio workout I just had surely burned all the alcohol out of my system. Still, I’m kind of buzzing on her, and that is not normal. Not. At. Fucking. All.
“You wanna go down and confirm my story?”
She steps into the shoes that she was wearing earlier, throws her little evening bag strap over her shoulder, and looks up at me. “Normally, I’d never do this, but—”
“I think we’re on the same page, Sweets, I don’t do—”
She opens the hotel door, and I change directions, laughing. “Chill a sec and let me put my shoes on.”
“Don’t steal my things, thank you for the good sex, and make sure the door locks behind you.”
When she slips out the door, I stand here, my mouth hanging down to my knees.
Did she just … blow me off? And seriously, did she just say good sex?
That wasn’t good; it was fucking epic!
I do all the shit she asked of me then make it out the door and down the hall just in time to see the elevator door close, so I hit the stairs.
I make it up the stairs as the elevator door opens and she walks out.
She peeks her head out and looks left before stepping out. When she looks right, she rolls her eyes, looking all sorts of annoyed when she sees me.
What. The. Fuck.
I hurry to catch up with her.
“HB, I’m going to meet the girls, not your Maxie or your not-stripper … stripper boys, or—”
I grab her elbow to stop her. “I’m good with that.” Then I pull my wallet out. “You got a pen?”
“What? Why would I—”
“Not gonna ask for your number to put in my phone, ’cause you look like the kind of woman who’d give a man the wrong number. But”—I pull out one of the ten baseball cards I carry in my wallet at all times—“you’re gonna give me the pen in your purse, and I’m gonna give you my number. Then, when your head’s not spinning from drinking and fucking, and if it’s still spinning because of me and what just went down, then you call me and we do it again.”
She looks a bit shocked. I love it. Love it even more since, two hours ago, I’d be all what the fuck am I thinking, too.
I reach down, grab her purse, unzip it, remove the pen from inside, write down my digits, and then shove both the card and pen back in her purse.
“You wanna walk in first, or you good with walking back in together? You know, since we’re both grown-ass adults.”
“You first,” rushes out of her sexy mouth.
“I get it. You wanna look at my ass as I walk away just as much as I wanna watch yours.”
No need to wait for a reply; it’s true. I turn, and I walk.
I spot Max immediately amongst my team—well, my old team—and then I see her girls right beside them.
Perfect.
“Where’d you disappear to?” Cowboy asks as he looks over my shoulder.
“He was—”
“Dancing,” I cut Max off.
Max looks at me, entertained as hell. “She that bad, man?” he whispers.
“Really?”
He shrugs. “Who the fuck knows with you, man? I’ve heard the stories, just never seen the proof.”
“Yeah, well—”
A hand clamps my shoulder. Nour.
“Car’s on its way to take us to the hotel. Cowboy, your flight leaves in three hours. Look around, men, inhale the scent of sugar-waxed hotties with daddy’s black card.” He looks at Cannon. “You ready, man?”
“Sweet baby Jesus, no, I ain’t ready.” I swear I see a tear in Cannon’s eye. “It’s—”
“Indi-fucking-ana!” We all laugh.
After our goodbyes and promises to keep in touch, I notice Max is MIA. I scan the area and see him, his elbows on the bar, talking to the bartender and too much for my liking right next to Sweets, so I head over.
Standing behind him, I hear him force a laugh. “Dude, I’m not asking for a beer; I’m asking for a water.”
“Here, have mine.” Sweets pushes her glass toward him.
“Hey, doll, I bought you that drink,” some dick on the other side of Max barks.
“And I told you I didn’t need anyone to buy me a drink, but thanks for the water, bro.”
“Thanks, babe.” Max picks up the water and tosses half of it back. Then h
e sets it down and pushes his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Fuck,” he sputters and turns around. “We gotta roll, man. The valet is from Bayside and saw my ride. He just messaged and told me the tow truck’s gonna be called.”
“Then let’s roll.” I motion in front of me, and he steps toward the exit.
I lean down. “Use that number, Sweets.”
“Goodnight, HB.”
“Sleep well. Nah, scratch that. Sleep alone and dream big.” I wink, and she tries yet fails not to smile as I walk away, knowing damn well this isn’t the last time I will be seeing her.
“So, tell me about this mystery girl.”
The way he says girl has me laughing.
“She was no girl; she was—”
“Bro,” he cuts me off, “about fucking time you came out! Been waiting two years for you to—”
“Hold up. What the hell did you just say?” I laugh.
“Nothing to laugh about. I think it’s cool. The odds of us all being straight weren’t in our favor. I’m just happy you feel comfortable enough to share it with me.”
“Max, I like women.”
“And a pro athlete, too. Fuck, yes. That’s some in your face shit right there.”
“Max, I’m not fucking gay, man.”
“Okay, cool. It won’t leave this vehicle. Your story to tell and shit. And hell, if you want to stay cooped up in the closet because people might flip their shit, then—”
“If I were gay, I’d own it. My uncle is as gay as—”
“Got it. Understood.” He rubs his eyes.
Silence.
“You really thought I was gay?” I can’t help but laugh.
“Gay, bi … I don’t know. You don’t eat pussy, you didn’t take a date to prom, homecoming … I mean …” He rubs his eyes again as we pull out of the tunnel. “Fuck!”
“Eating pussy isn’t mutually beneficial.”
“Neither is getting your dick sucked.” He clears his throat.
“The fuck it’s not. Girls—yes, girls—beg to suck my dick.” But not Sweets. “Straight up felt almost used at Seashore.”
