Keeping Busy

by Tracy Gray

  I shrugged. “I’m one of those people who has a hard time falling asleep unless I’m completely exhausted. If I try to sleep before I’m exhausted, a mental “to-do” checklist runs through my head on a loop, and I lay in bed watching the hours on the clock tick by, knowing I’m getting that much less sleep. I try to avoid that kind of stress, if possible.” I took a beat. “You got enough blankets and stuff? You comfortable?”

  “Yeah.” She said, then narrowed her honey colored eyes at me. “You headed to the refrigerator? You up sneaking late night snacks, Busy?”

  I grinned at her. “Nah. I’m about to check the alarm. I can’t have nobody coming up in here trying to secure the entire bag and killing you in the process.”

  “Right.” She agreed, and stood up from the bed, shoving her feet into colorful flip flops. “Come on.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “You coming with me?”

  “There’s safety in numbers.” She said, like that explained everything.

  It was whatever to me, so the two of us walked downstairs together. I checked the alarm panel, making sure to set every alarm. I probably wasn’t always as diligent as I could have been, but with Mecca in my house, in my care, I took the extra precaution. She stood in the middle of my living room, repeatedly lifting her right leg while pointing and flexing her toes. For a few seconds, I was mesmerized by the definition in her leg, the way her calf muscle tightened, the way her quad muscle tightened. Just watching her was making me feel a way.

  “What’re you thinking?” I asked her, because her face was so focused.

  She looked over at me, with a small smile on her face like she’d forgotten that she wasn’t alone in the room. “That I could do so many pirouettes, fouettes and grand jetes in this one room.” She admitted.

  “Those are dance moves, right?”

  She nodded.

  I held out my hand. “Do ya thing.”

  “For real?” She eyed me.

  “For real. Show it to me.”

  She looked around tentatively, and finally chose a spot that was decidedly open and clear of obstacles. She slipped out of her flip flops, kicking them off to the side. I watched as she centered herself, opened her arms, positioned her right leg and went into a series of quick turns right in front of me. It was wild, unexpected, and artistic, but also very, very sexy and beautiful. I stared in awe as she slowed, and stopped herself on a dime, the right leg that she started with, ending behind her.

  “Damn.” I said appreciatively. “How much dance training have you had?”

  She kicked her leg into the sky, absent-mindedly flexing it, oblivious to the fact that my dick jumped at the movement.

  “Probably since before you started in Pop Warner.” She smirked.

  “I was six when I started playing Pop Warner football.”

  “I started dance when I was three.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, you ready to head back upstairs, or you got some more jumps and turns that you need to get out?” I teased.

  “I’m good. Cuz if I marry you, and move in here, I can do jumps and turns in this living room anytime I want.”

  It was weird that the fact that she kept joking about marrying me didn’t freak me out. It actually had me bugging the opposite way, like I felt a sense of calm both times she said it, because at least that part of my life would be settled. I would know who and what I was coming home to when I got off the road. I would probably like coming home to a woman like Mecca, who was easy and laid-back and gorgeous and sexy as shit. Plus, she grew up with an industry father who traveled all of the time. She understood the lifestyle, and wasn’t likely to be all insecure or in her feelings every time some chick posted a crazy picture on social media or something.

  Why are you making up reasons to marry Mecca? I asked myself. She’s playing with you, and you’re over here mentally wifing her and making a home.

  “Yeah, you can.” I assured her. “As long as you do them naked.”

  “Whatever, Busy.”

  I stood back, and let her head up the stairs ahead of me watching every swish of her hips as she walked. I followed her to the doorway of the guest bedroom. She sat down on the bed and faced me.

  “Uh, this is your house, Busy. You know you’re welcome to come in here. You don’t have to stand in the doorway.”

  I shook my head. “Nah, it’s not like that, because whether this is my house or not, you're a guest. I’m not trying to infringe on your personal space. While you’re here, this…” I gestured to the room, “is your space.”

  “Okay.” She said with a nod.

  “You’re still not sleepy?”

  “Nah.” She told me. “And I feel like I should be, because I’ve been up for almost 24 hours straight, but I can’t get my mind to shut down, yet. So, I’m watching this movie.”

  “On your iPad?”

  “I always watch movies on my iPad.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “You know I have a whole 75 inch t.v. in my bedroom.”

  “You trying to get me in your bed, Maddox Mayhew?”

  With a shrug of my shoulders, I chuckled at her question. “I’m just offering you the opportunity to watch your movie on a larger screen.”

  She watched me for what felt like the longest seconds on earth. “If I lay in your bed and watch this movie, are you gonna keep your hands to yourself?”

  I didn't even have to think about it. “Hell nah. If you get in my bed, Mecca, I’mma be all over you, but I will honor what I told you earlier. My end game won’t be having sex with you.”

  “Your end game is helping me to stay engaged, while you’re loving up on me, right?”

  I nodded.

  She stood up. “Let’s go.”

  This girl.

  I led Mecca into my bedroom. The two of us stopped at the foot of my bed.

  “Which side do you sleep on, Busy?” She questioned.

  “Right.” I said walking over to the right side of the bed, sliding out of my slippers and sitting on the bed.

  She walked over to the left side of the bed, and sat down.

  “So, should I turn on the t.v.?”

  “You don’t have to, but could you turn on some music?”

  “Yep, if you want music, we can do that.” I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, did the whole “face recognition” thing and handed it to her.

  She messed around on it for a little bit, handing it back to me when Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Would You Mind” started floating from the phone. I stuck it in the phone dock, and the song filled the room through the speakers.

  “Is this your little sexy playlist?” I teased. “You about to seduce me, Pudding?”

  She grinned her pretty grin at me, batting her eyes a bit. “Maybe.”

  “Okay.” I climbed all the way into the bed, scooted to the middle and pulled her into the bed with me. When she was on her back, I covered her upper body with mine, leaning into her as I gently kissed her lips once, then again. I trailed kisses from her lips, across her jaw line, and to her neck, while my hands swept down the sides of her, landing at her hips. I didn’t know where her hands were, because they weren’t on me. “Where you at, Ma? You in your head?”

  “I’m not in my head.” She assured me.

  “I feel like you are, Sweetheart.”

  “Not in the way you think, Busy. You, and this music...I’m having a lot of sensations and I’m trying to process them.”

  “Mecca, don’t process them, feel them. Stop fighting the flow. Cool?”

  “Yeah.” She heaved out, and then I felt her hands on my back.

  I needed a minute to regroup, because shit, she was regressing. Now, she needed to “process” the sensations. I grabbed the bottom of her sleep shirt. “Take this off.” I said pulling it up. She helped me take it off of her and I flung it into the darkness. “Make the decision to be in the moment, Li’l Mama.” I must not have said it as gently as I meant to, because
her face kind of fell.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” I said softly while caressing her cheek. “I’m about to level the fuck up. I need you right there with me...leveling up. We’re about to figure out what you like, and what drives you wild. You good with that?”

  “I’m not trying to be difficult.”

  I stuck my hand in her panties, swirled my fingers around her slick folds, pulled them out and showed them to her. “Your pussy’s wet for me, Mecca. I know you’re not trying to be difficult. I know you want this. Just decide to let me take you where you wanna go. Trust that I’m all about giving you pleasure.” I whispered in her ear. “I got you, Baby.”

  I laid her back down, and this time I got between her legs, pushing them open with my knee, before I made myself comfortable there. I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth, and bit it softly, before soothing it with a gentle suck, then I plunged my tongue into her mouth, while simultaneously plunging my hands into her hair and pulling from her scalp. I tangled my tongue with hers, teasing her and tasting the flavor of Mecca. Even with her tendency to disengage, she was addictive, driving me to want to be the one who cracked the code to her satisfaction. I tugged roughly on her hair, my tongue doing the opposite, moving slowly and languidly in her mouth. Guttural sounds escaped from her throat and traveled into my mouth. I deepened the kiss, and ground my pelvis into hers, which I knew I was gonna regret, because that type of thing would cause me to get hard before I wanted to, but I couldn’t help it. She was responding and that had me wanting to keep her responding.

  I broke the kiss, and moved casually down her body, stopping at various points to place open-mouth kisses.

  “Where are you most sensitive, Mecca?” I asked between kisses.

  “My vagina.” She moaned.

  “Not yet, where else?”

  “Right now? Everywhere.”

  I reluctantly removed my hands from her hair, because it was clear that her scalp was an erogenous zone for her, and I palmed her breasts. As a dancer, Mecca had a smallish frame, but her breasts didn’t get the memo, they were a large C cup or a small D. They fit into my hands perfectly. I fed the right one to myself, sliding my tongue around her pretty mocha colored areola, while being inundated with that sweet, buttery smell that was uniquely Mecca. While I orally caressed her right nipple, I rolled the left one between my fingers, pulling and pinching periodically.

  “Mecca, how do you feel?”

  “Good.” She sighed, her fingers were buried in my hair, holding me at her breast.

  I gently nipped at her nipple, relishing its taunt peak, rolling it around in my mouth. I released her, and made my way south. When I was between her thighs, I kissed the inside of the right one, then alternately sucked and bit the same spot I’d kissed. I stayed there, repeating the sucking and biting, until I was sure that there would be a mark there for her to discover the next day.

  “Aaaaahhhhhh.” She moaned softly.

  I moved to the inside of her left thigh, searching for where I wanted to leave her a reminder of our shared passion on that side. When I found a spot, I sucked and bit her there, too. While I worked on leaving a second mark, I slid her panties to the side, inhaling deeply so I could familiarize myself with the scent of Mecca’s arousal. Deftly, I slid a finger inside of her.

  She pulled in a sharp breath, treating me to a sweet hissing sound. I added another finger, while I sucked harder at the flesh on her inner thigh. As I pulled away from her thigh, I caught sight of my fingers buried inside of her. I’d promised myself that I wasn’t going to bother her vagina tonight, but my mouth involuntarily watered at the sight and smell of her. She was grinding against my fingers, as they worked her into a frenzy so I decided to let her rock and save oral for another day.

  I climbed back up her body, my fingers still working inside her core.

  “You’re gorgeous, Mecca. You’re so fucking beautiful, Baby. You should come for me. You should let me see you come.” I told her, before I swept her left breast into my mouth, and sucked desperately on her nipple.

  I could feel the vibrations building in her body. I could literally feel them. I released her breast, so that I could look in her face when she came. Her eyes were squeezed tight, like she was concentrating with all of her might. She looked adorable, and mad focused at the same time. A few seconds later, her mouth flew open, and her facial features relaxed, but her eyes remained closed as she rode the waves, her body shuddering while she moaned loudly.

  “Damn, girl.” I mouthed inaudibly, my dick jumping in anticipation as I watched her experience orgasm.

  Slowly she peeled open her eyes. Slowly I removed my fingers from her vagina and placed them in my mouth savoring them, while she watched me intently.

  “You taste good as hell.” I told her.

  “You feel good as hell.” She responded.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. Her breathing was starting to return to normal. “You’re a really good tutor.”

  “Well, in my professional opinion, I feel like with enough extra credit, you could make the Honor Roll, Pudding. You’re gonna need a lot of extra help, though.” I paused dramatically. “I’m talking...a lot.”

  She grinned for me. “I think you’re right, Busy. But first I need sleep. I’m gonna go back to the guest room.”

  I didn’t want her to go, but I wanted to give her space. “Okay, Sweetheart.”

  She didn’t move one muscle. I chuckled to myself, gathered her close to me, and rested my head on the pillow next to hers expecting to let my thoughts have free rein in my mind for a while. Surprisingly though, sleep pulled me under.

  Mecca

  10

  I’d woken up in Busy’s bed about six or seven hours after I’d fallen asleep. We weren’t tangled up with each other, he was on one side of the large bed and I was on the other. I figured that was a tell-tale sign that we were both single and used to sleeping alone. The blankets were halfway off of Busy’s body, so I could see that he still had on his basketball shorts. I was wearing panties, but nothing else. I did remember him taking off my sleep shirt, and tossing it into the abyss. I climbed out of his bed, retrieved my top, and quickly pulled it over my head.

  I wasn’t embarrassed about what went down between us, so I saw no reason to sneak out of his room like a one-night stand or something. Instead, I walked around to his side of the bed and shook him lightly. Without speaking, he reached out wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. His hands landed on my ass, his face was pressed into my vagina.

  “Good morning.” He muttered.

  “Are you talking to her or me?” I teased.

  “Both.”

  “Good morning. What time do I need to be ready?”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after 9:00.”

  He released me, rolling over onto his back. Busy had the best chest in the world. It was all of my favorite things...chocolatey, muscular and tatted up. It was like, a fantasy chest.

  “We’ve got time. You hungry? I’ll get up and make you something.”

  “I could eat.” I admitted. “But first, I wanna shower. If you let me get clean, I’ll help you whip something up.”

  “You cook, too, Pudding?”

  I looked at him incredulously. “Busy, are you even serious right now? As much time as I spent hanging with Miss Vera and Auntie Bo - is there any way that you think I can’t cook?”

  “Well hell, if you learned from my grandmother, I’m about to let you do all the cooking.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling to myself or looking down at my exposed thigh area as I stood in Busy’s kitchen. I was cracking eggs into a bowl, separating the whites from the yolks.

  “What’s good, Pudding?” Busy asked me with a smile of his own. He was chopping fresh vegetables for the egg white omelet we were making. “You keep smiling.”

  “I know.” I confessed. “You put hickies on the insides of my
thighs at some point last night - this morning. Whenever.” I told him, like he didn’t already know that.

  “And that has you over there giving me secret smiles and shit? Full disclosure, I’ll put hickies all over your body if it’ll get you to keep smiling at me like that.”

  “It was just like, a surprise. When I was putting on lotion after my shower, I was like, ‘What are these marks?’ then I remembered. I think it’s kinda sexy. Like you and I are the only ones that know you were all between my legs...sucking on me.” I gave him a flirty smirk.

  He put the knife down and walked over to me, scooping me into his arms for a hug. “You can’t say shit like that and not expect to get kissed.” He covered my mouth with his, sweeping all logical thought from my mind.

  Now that I knew that Busy had the patience and determination to make sure that he kept my body humming, my body seemed to hum for him automatically. Candie was throbbing and doing her best impression of a leaky faucet, my nipples were as hard as bullets, and my heart was thumping like crazy in my chest. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but I didn’t want to examine it, I just wanted to experience Busy.

  “I’m trying to go slow with you, Pudding, but you aren’t making that easy.” He whispered into my neck after we broke the kiss. “You’re sexier than a motherfucker, and I just...I just dig you. Plus you smell like ice cream, which has me wanting to eat you.”

  I caught the double entendre he was throwing. “Uhm. Is that why you were sampling my thighs? Because you wanna taste me?”

  He looked down at me. “Yeah and I haven’t had breakfast, yet. So, I’m hungrier than a motherfucker.”

  Next thing I knew, I was hoisted over his broad shoulder.

  “Are you serious right now?” I asked, my head down by his ass.

  He didn’t respond, just kept it pushing to his final destination, which ended up being the first floor guest room. As he placed me in the middle of the bed, I admitted to myself that it was nicer than the room I insisted on sleeping in. Before I could even process another thought, Busy’s hands were inside the waistband of the short-shorts I was wearing.