Something Deeper

by Shara Azod

  It was so concentrated that Sky’s nipples contracted—harder. His voice alone had made every button on her body start to pulse. She shivered slightly and sighed before she could catch herself.

  “Oh, do you have a list too?” she asked, checking to see if he had any paper in his hand or beside him on the bed.

  “No, it’s ladies night,” he said, grinning. “The men are on the menu.”

  And what type of meat are you packing, Cashmere? Thick cut beef, perfect pork, or heavy sausage?

  Blushing at her thoughts, Sky looked at him. Once she met his intense eyes, the electricity contained within them made her jump. Green eyes. The color of baby leaves met her maple ones with a sharp pow. Automatically, she squeezed her thighs and was rewarded with a small quiver that made her discomfort grow. If she could just touch her rapidly beating clit, to ease its impatience, to soothe its heat, she would die a little death.

  Or better yet, you can lick the fire, soothe my ache, can’t you, Cashmere?

  God, he’s a child! Barely out of high school. In his twenties.

  “So, are you from Las Vegas?” Cashmere asked, peering at her intently.

  “N—n—no,” she answered, suddenly self conscious. Could he make out her pointed nipples through her dress? Did he smell the lust seeping from the triangle between her thighs?

  “Here on business?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed. “If you keep this up, I won’t get a chance to get to know you at all. Give me more, please. Something about you is so, so… stimulating.”

  Give you more? Was that a pick-up line? Stimulating?

  Me? The English teacher? Really? God, that was pick-up line for sure.

  “Sorry, I—I’m new at this,” Sky said and adjusted her dress, pulling its hem down to her knees. She rested her hands in her laps after placing the pencil and paper down.

  “What’s your name?” Cashmere asked, fingering one of the buttons on his olive shirt, never breaking his stare at her.

  Yep. The color was definitely olive. She was staring at it way too hard to not be able to tell.

  The top two buttons were already undone and they revealed brunette hairs ready for Sky to lick. They were darker than the hairs on his head, which only made Sky wonder what the little garden around his cock would be.

  “I mean, the one you’re using tonight. I’d like to undress, ah, address, you with something other than you.”

  Sky hadn’t missed his slip up.

  “You can call me, uh, Caramel.”

  Stupid name, but she didn’t know what else to call herself that didn’t sound like a porn star or worse, a prostitute. Though Caramel came dangerously close to each of those.

  “Nice to meet you, Caramel,” he said, smiling. “You seem like a real nice woman.”

  “Thank you,” was all she could manage around the lump in the throat.

  “Pleasure will be all mine,” he said, grinning to reveal white, even teeth behind thin lips.

  Did he say the pleasure will be all his?

  “Excuse me?” she asked, frowning at him, and trying to puzzle him out.

  “Nothing,” he said, folding his hands in a tent in front of him. “I’m here on business. You said you were too. What kind?”

  “Conference,” Sky said, wiggling a bit to alleviate her hard throbbing clit. If she moved forward, her panties would press her clit, sending shivers of sexual longing across her body.

  “Lots of those here,” he said, his eyes on her, his mouth set in a closed-lip smile. “Only last month I was here for a conference. Now, I’m back again.”

  “You come here often then? To these types of freak parties?” she stammered willing herself to meet his gaze.

  He nodded, but with his whole torso.

  “Live close to Vegas?” she asked, talking more to calm her whirling anxiousness and not think about her body, than for information. His aftershave floated from him as if burned off from his sizzling sexuality.

  Damn, you’re a long slice of masculinity, despite your age.

  Sky blew out an unsteady breath. “I’m from New Mexico.”

  Why doesn’t he turn those eyes on to something else?

  “California.”

  “What field are you in?” Sky asked because the layers of uncomfortable silence between them kept attempting to crop up, building like unchecked weeds. Her mind filled those bouts of silence with images of lust—heated pictures of her mouth on his cock, his mouth on her clit, licking her tiny knob with sucks and nips.

  He’d asked her to the bed to talk? Was that what they did first at these freak parties? How the hell did it go from chit chat to fucking in the corner?

  He waved his hand back and forth.

  “A little of this. A little of that.”

  He brushed his hair back behind his ear, and Sky noticed that his mask lacked elastic, but rather hooked over his ears. Perhaps he was a regular.

  “At these parties, the people come to see who is compatible, sexually, Caramel. So, let me ask you, if I told you I was going to my hotel room next door and I winked at you before getting up, what would you do?”

  Sky’s mouth opened in disbelief before snapping it close. This was a party about getting into someone’s pants, why should she be surprised he’d get to that point so swiftly?

  God, I’m going to kill Lee!

  “It’s hypothetical,” Cashmere said with a slight hint of amusement.

  “I, I—uh, I...”

  “Okay, close your eyes and tell me what you’re imagining, right now.”

  She nodded and licked her lips. Maybe if she didn’t have to see his sultry gaze on her, she could do it.

  Sure.

  He was nearly twenty years younger than she was. She could be his mother. Ugh, that about killed any sexual images in her mind.

  “If you said you were going to your hotel room and winked at me, I would give you two minutes and then follow you over.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled at Cashmere. And swat you for trying to seduce an old bag like me!

  Even with the mask, she could see that her answer wasn’t what he had expected. Didn’t she say what he wanted her to say? It was the right answer, but Cashmere was shaking his head.

  “And?”

  “And, we would both be in your hotel room. Talking about how you’re a boy toy and trying to seduce a woman much older than you.”

  He sighed and leaned in closer to her, his hands flat on the bed in front her, close enough to touch her thigh, since she sat properly on the bed with her legs over the edge. Cashmere sat Indian style, his feet folded underneath him, his shoes in a neat pair on the floor.

  “It doesn’t matter how old you are. So, let me tell you what I would do if you followed me to my room,” he said, staring at her, his eyes at half mast, his voice a caressing whisper, moist and minty, against her face.

  “I would first lock the door once you’ve entered. Then I would take you into my arms and kiss your beautiful, full lips, allowing my tongue to roam all through your mouth, exploring and tasting you, Caramel.”

  Sky’s body tensed. God, he can’t be serious?

  He’s like what? 20? I’ve got to get a grip.

  But Cashmere was very serious.

  He continued, unmoving, his eyes on her, watching her reaction to each word spoken.

  “While my tongue is buried in your sensual mouth, I would put both my hands on your gorgeous ass and palm those globes, massaging them and thinking about making them mine. I’d think about how they would eventually feel pressed against me, gliding over me, and slapping against my thighs. Once I unzip your dress and drop it to the floor, my hands move up your back and around to your rather magnificent breasts…”

  “Oh, okay, that’s enough. Thanks,” Sky said, her voice trembling. “I—I think I should move on to, to another candidate.”

  Though outwardly, she got up with ease, inside her panties were drenched and her body vibrating with carnal cravings so fierce she sh
ook. Her desires reawakened, Sky swallowed and tried to rid herself of the temptation by blowing out her frustration.

  He was a boy. A horny child.

  I’ve got to move.

  But she couldn’t.

  This close to her, she could make out something she hadn’t expected when she sat down beside him. Truly shaken, she scooted toward the edge to put her feet on the floor.

  “None of them are like me,” he said, sitting back, his hands folded in his lap. “Look around.”

  Sky snorted, but stopped herself. Following his advice, she searched the room and this time made herself pay attention. Many males engaged females in conversations, some deeper than others. Some had succumbed to their lusts and were busy kissing each other, their respective masks still on. Sky spotted Lee in the corner by the window with a large man, who looked like he played professional sports for a living. Already Lee was cradled in his lap and was tracing his jaw with her index finger.

  Though she saw all of this, Sky knew that Cashmere was right.

  He wasn’t like all the rest.

  He was the only white guy in the room.

  What the hell was this? Did he come just to get his freak on, to feed his black chick fetish?

  “You got some black girl fetish, boy?” Sky asked him. Her words sounded angry and annoyed, which she was all at once. “Want to see if we’re as wild as the media reports us to be?”

  Cashmere didn’t smile. He didn’t say anything at all, but he watched her from behind his mask, his eyes burning in the low light.

  “I guess that answer speaks for itself,” Sky snapped, drawing herself up to her full height and finding her balance on her high heels.

  “You’re angry,” he said at last.

  “No, no, I’m not angry,” she replied though she knew she was pissed. “I’m moving on.”

  She stalked away from him and over to one of three men who weren’t with a woman. Dressed in sable, the gentleman with a scarlet mask, sat down next to Sky on the sofa, beside another couple who were getting ready to leave.

  “I’m Caramel,” she said, feeling bolder, but still upset.

  She liked anger better than fear and right now, certainly better than the unrelenting longing to pin Cashmere between her thighs. Anger erased all traces of lust he raised in her, and it helped her focus on disarming the next bastard who tried to deceive her.

  Chapter 2

  Cashmere watched with confusion as Caramel went over to a guy calling himself Mandingo. A regular at these things, Cashmere had been going to these freak mixers for months, and although he seduced a few women, most of them had the “white boy fetish.” So, he didn’t quite understand why Caramel thought he was only here to fulfill a fantasy. And if he was, why would that be so bad?

  She was outright furious with him.

  Did that mean she liked him? Or she cared a teeny tiny bit?

  “Oh, Cashmere, lost another one,” said Dante, the hostess. “There are plenty here, so don’t worry. You’ll take home your piece of chocolate cake yet.”

  “Seems like,” he said, trying to put the incident aside and find a partner for tonight. Not that he thought of the women as pieces of food. Those were Dante’s words. Partners implied an equality that Dante probably didn’t subscribe to. He wanted a partner, an equal player in the game.

  “You look ravishing in red, Dante,” he said, his balls aching from being near Caramel and imagining how soft her skin would feel under his hands and against his cock, gliding against the head of his phallus, forcing him to groan. He grunted as he adjusted his position. Already a thin sheen of sweat covered his face despite the room’s full throttle air conditioning.

  It didn’t help. What he wanted to alleviate his swollen cock was seated across the room from him. Caramel.

  Dante laughed, arching her back, thrusting out her full rack. She stood on the opposite side of the queen bed.

  “I was playing the whole Dante Inferno thing. ‘Cause you know, I’m smoking.”

  “You sure are,” he whispered to her. “Sizzling, in fact.”

  He stood on his knees, the bed giving as Dante climbed on, crawling over to him. He knew she’d been watching him all night. She smelled earthy and sexually aroused, like a woman in the throes of heat.

  “You feeling my heat?” she asked, her voice laced with thick lust. “Yeah?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  And he was sort of. It wasn’t Dante, but Caramel’s heat he was truly seeking. It was her warmth he wanted to plunge his cock into again and again until she shouted his name and raked her nails across his back pulling blood.

  He looked at Dante and he shuddered. She knew things no twenty-four-year-old should. They were the same age, he and Dante, but she scared him a little. He wondered how she’d come into such skillful sexual knowledge. On-the-job training as a call girl? Promiscuous? He didn’t want that long term. But tonight. Yeah. He had a pocket filled with condoms. She’d do for tonight.

  He watched her take in the bulge in his pants. He smiled as her eyebrows arched. Of all the people in the room, Dante was the only one who didn’t wear a mask, which laid her emotions bare. Something she enjoyed.

  She slinked across the bed to him, the teddy’s thong slicing her tight ass cheeks into two glowing spheres of toffee perfection. As she reached him, she sat back on her heels and allowed the teddy’s straps to slip down her shoulders. With one smooth movement, she reached inside the cups and lifted her breasts out of their thin lace.

  His eyes drank in her long legs. The red teddy’s lace bit into her curvy hips in a way that suggested she had plenty to hang on to during sex. But if Dante had a real treat, it was her full breasts, the tasty treat of taut nipples and cinnamon shaded areoles. She cupped them, the orbs jiggling as she kneaded them. With her eyes pinned to him, she pinched her nipples, sucking in a breath as she did so.

  “Oh, mmmmm. Stick around a while and you can have these all to yourself­—all night.”

  As he was about to answer, a giggle shot through the hushed room, and he turned to see Caramel giggling with Mandingo. She looked up as if feeling his eyes on her and met his stare in earnest. Still angry, those eyes flicked down and then back up. They drifted over to Dante and then back to him. Sobered, Caramel then returned to her conversation, making sure to put her back to him.

  And Dante.

  “Oh, Cashmere, she’s a tight, stuck up woman,” Dante was saying, her arms slipped around his waist. She turned his face back to her with strong fingers on his face. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the stony nipples teasing him. “And way too old. Besides, I got dibs on you. Don’t waste your time.”

  But Cashmere wanted to dip his aching cock into Caramel. As Dante rubbed his back, racking her nails gently across his shoulder blades, his phallus continued to harden. His eyes however were on the soft spoken woman sitting with her back to him.

  Oh, man, she is so incredible. Real, fleshy with all the right curves and softness that I can indulge in. Caramel is a woman, something Dante wouldn’t understand. Moreover, Caramel doesn’t even know how her maturity made her stand out. Mature, and terribly real, unlike Dante’s fake breasts, and the other stick figures in the room, Caramel is filled out, perfect for cuddling and even more for holding onto as I’m riding her…

  “Damn, Cashmere, you are packing some serious equipment,” Dante whispered, her hands between his legs, rubbing up and down the outside of his trousers, feeling his swollen piece.

  He watched Caramel laugh, smile, and giggle and his heart grew tense with jealousy. Why hadn’t she stayed with him? Because he wasn’t black? Or because she didn’t trust his motives? Because he was younger than her?

  He had the same motives as everyone else in the world, regardless of race. And as for age, he could do what guys her age could do and more without threat of a heart attack.

  Dante’s hand rubbed against his swollen shaft so hard, he winced, and he turned his attention to her. She leaned over and breathed onto his coc
k through his pants, and her warm breath sent shivers through him like invisible satin strips wrapping around his phallus, tugging and relenting in timed teasing. Unable to stop himself, he moaned. If Dante kept this up, he was going to take her right here on the bed.

  He doubted Dante would mind.

  “Oooo, you like a little heat,” Dante said, grinning up at him as she cupped his balls through his pants and massaged. “I want these in my mouth. Now.”

  “Now?” he glanced over his shoulder at Caramel.