Red Velvet

by Noelle Mack

  Tom ran a hand down her back, reaching her ass with long strokes and squeezing it gently. He thrust his heavy leg between hers, pinning her, while he kissed her hard and deep.

  Dee broke it off, wanting to look up at him, loving that sensual smile of his.

  He lifted up some and pressed his erection against her wet curls, sliding just a little over her clit with the lightest possible pressure. The effect was wildly arousing. If he didn’t stop it, she’d come in a hurry.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “We should slow things down.”

  He wrapped her up in a passionate hug. “Just so long as we don’t stop. What’s your pleasure? Tell me.”

  Dee whispered, “Let’s watch some more.”

  “Huh? Are you kidding?”

  “No. I want to see how hot you can get.”

  Tom rose up, bracing himself on his elbows, planting kisses on her breasts and nipples. “You’re seeing it. I’m hot. If I get any hotter, it’s going to be condom time.”

  “So…stay totally outside of me. Put in another DVD and turn off the sound.”

  He laughed and buried his face in her neck, biting and kissing her there until she arched back and laughed too. “Are you crazy, Dee? Women don’t watch porn.”

  “If it’s gentle and really sensual…I would. I mean, I will.”

  He stroked her face and looked into her eyes. “Okay. If you say so.”

  “Let’s try it. Find something really sexy.”

  He rolled over and found the remote in the tangled sheets, clicking silently through the scenes until he stopped on the one he wanted.

  “How many times have you watched this?”

  Tom shrugged. “Who knows? It’s useful on a lonely night. And I went through too many of those before you showed up in my life. But I told you about all that. Okay—ready?”

  Dee nodded. “Fire away.”

  He got her settled by his side, and both of them were propped in the pillows when Tom got the DVD going again. The nurse, now totally naked, began to ride the man in the bed. Her pussy slid luxuriously up and down his shaft but only halfway. Dee could see his huge cock throb inside the actress. Nice. Very nice. She looked down. Tom was throbbing too.

  Dee held him lightly but firmly, stroking Tom just how he liked it—up, twist around the head, around and down. She watched the man in the movie buck wildly and moan, holding the woman’s cheeks in his big hands, while he thrust deeply in, over and over. His balls were tight, one coming up against the side of his cock, until he shuddered and came like a wild man, something that couldn’t be faked.

  “Whoa,” Dee said. “That was…truly hot. But she didn’t come.”

  “You noticed. There’s more. Now for the girl on girl. You still okay with this?”

  “Yeah.”

  The scene ended and the screen went dark for a few seconds. Then two women reappeared with Nancy, in a meadow this time, totally naked.

  “Now where are they?”

  Tom shrugged. “I don’t know. Not the gift shop.”

  The trio spread out a blanket and began to take turns kissing each other, playing with each other’s breasts and fondling each other’s pussies, their bodies glowing in the warm sun and their hair shining.

  “Come on. This part is so pretty it’s like a greeting card.” He turned over and slid his hand between her legs. “And it’s making you hot. Want to try something?”

  “So long as I don’t have to wear a nurse outfit.”

  He kissed her lips very thoroughly, giving her more nips between soft thrusts of his tongue, then pulled back. “Nothing like that. But I’m too close to coming. If I touch your beautiful tits, I’ll explode.”

  “So what do you want to do?” she murmured. “Wait a minute. Kiss me like that again.”

  He did, brushing her hair back softly from her forehead and kissing her with passionate tenderness. “I want you to watch the scene where the one with the really big breasts gets her pussy tongue-fucked by her girlfriend. But I want to do the tongue-fucking. How does that sound?”

  “Mmm,” was all Dee said.

  “Do you want to be on all fours with me licking you from behind? Or on your back?” Tom stroked her sides, blocking her view of the TV but it was clear enough from the soft moans and begging for more what the trio of women were up to.

  “All fours,” Dee whispered.

  “You’re going to like this,” he whispered back, kissing her again.

  His erect cock pressed against her side and she could feel the first drops, warm and wet, on her skin. He was right about not being far from coming. He rolled her over. “Assume the position,” he said softly.

  Dee got on all fours so she could watch the trio of women, and Tom moved behind her on the bed. She wasn’t sure there was enough room for his long, powerful body but at the first touch of his tongue, she forgot all about that.

  He’d timed it just right. Nancy was on all fours in the middle of the blanket while her girlfriends stroked her back and ass. Then one kneeled behind her to do the honors, just the way Tom was doing Dee.

  He lapped her tenderly, thrusting his tongue inside, then stopped, rubbing his wet mouth against her bare bottom. Dee trembled and stopped, tense but highly aroused.

  “It’s just a fantasy, Dee. You get to go into it, give into it, and come out the other side.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t do women.”

  Tom ran his fingertips over her sensitized skin. “That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy watching it.” He kissed her cheeks, pausing to put his tongue deep inside her again just when the scene on-screen heated up to fever pitch.

  Then he stopped and moved to her breasts, cupping them in his hands, appreciating their sway and bounce. He played with her nipples expertly, tugging them and then rolling a blunt fingernail against the aerola of one, watching how it made Dee sigh with pleasure. The woman on all fours was getting her nipples done too, by the third woman, while the second stayed behind her, thrusting her tongue more deeply into a pussy so juicy it glistened in the sun.

  Tom moved back around behind Dee, getting back into pussy worship, licking her labia and pushing his tongue in and out of her juicy folds, just the way he kissed her mouth.

  The combination of watching oral sex and having it done to her sent shuddering thrills through her. He kept his powerful, very masculine body from touching hers, allowing her to imagine that a woman lover was eating her pussy with lascivious skill. Dee was nearly delirious with pleasure. Tom matched his tongue action to the lesbian love scene that was playing out on the screen, knowing exactly what she was watching.

  His hands gently stroked the backs of her thighs, making her tingle with excitement. She began to thrust back against his face, wanting his tongue deeper inside her, trying to get every bit of it, wild to have her clit stroked to climax. But Tom got up, kneeled behind her, rested his big hands on her ass and made her stop. Then he ripped open a condom he must have had ready to go and sheathed himself.

  “You’re not in charge now,” he whispered. “Imagine being intimately penetrated by a beautiful, dominant woman who wants you to obey. She wants you to have an explosive orgasm so she can see you lose control.”

  “Ahhh,” Dee moaned. She felt him push the head of his cock against her swollen labia and not go in any further.

  “Watch them, Dee. Let the fantasy take over. It isn’t real…but the pleasure is.” The woman on the blanket put her head down submissively, reaching around with both hands and spreading her ass cheeks wide, showing her swollen labia, begging silently for what Dee could see she was going to get. The second woman put on a long, thick dildo with help from the third woman, who tightened the straps as much as she could, making the dildo rise high.

  “I want you inside me,” Dee whispered.

  “Not yet.” Tom waited until the woman with the strap-on had positioned herself behind the one on all fours.

  Crying out silently, the woman on the blanket pushed herself back, eagerly t
aking the strap-on as the woman wearing it began to thrust it in. The third parted her buttocks for extra-deep penetration, and the trio began to really rock.

  Tom grabbed Dee’s hips and rammed his cock into her with swift, deep strokes that thrilled her. She rested one shoulder on the bed and reached back quickly between his thighs, feeling his tight, hard balls tremble under her fingertips. She touched him, and then her clit, in strokes slicked with her own moisture, coming when he did, crying out when he did…and turning to collapse with him, held in his strong arms at last.

  4

  Two weeks later…

  “So how would you rate our sex life?” Tom asked.

  “This is a guy question,” Dee said. “Like how many inches is my thing, how fast does the car go, and how big are those boobs.”

  “Yes. So on a scale of one to ten—”

  “Eleven.”

  He beamed at her. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I didn’t know hedge fund managers had such fabulously dirty minds.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s something to do when we’re not making millions.” He grinned with masculine pride.

  “Pass the marmalade. I need to keep up my strength. Last night was amazing.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “You didn’t like yesterday morning?”

  “Oh, shut up and read the paper.” She patted his stubbly cheek affectionately and dropped a spoonful of marmalade on the rest of her buttered bagel, casting a glance over the style section. She took a bite of bagel, noticing that it was stone cold. Good. She didn’t need the carbs.

  Tom looked in the wrong drawer for a napkin, still not sure where everything was. Dee smiled and pointed to the right one. They’d slept in Dee’s apartment, just for a change of pace. She still needed breathing room and occasional days off, especially when the sex was staying wild and crazy.

  Which Dee loved.

  Which was the reason they were having breakfast at four in the afternoon.

  Having fun rolling around with Tom all night made sleeping through the alarm a necessity now and then. When it had gone off at seven a.m., Dee had been pretty sure it was Friday; and she knew Jami never came in on Friday; and wouldn’t call if Dee wasn’t there. No, her assistant left desperate, dramatic-sounding takes of sudden illness and needy relatives on the business voice-mail every Thursday night. Dee was impressed by the sheer variety.

  She squinted at the caller ID when the phone rang, not recognizing the number but reading the tag. Love-Lee-Lace. The first ten thousand red velvet bras had been shipped to stores and the first sales numbers must be in. Dee felt her stomach constrict as she picked up the phone. “Dee Skinner.”

  “Dee?” a familiar voice barked. “Stu here, from Love-Lee-Lace. We got the sales reports. That new bra of yours is—hold on, I gotta unwrap my samwish and look at the mayo. The new counterman is an ignoramus when it comes to mayo. Never enough.”

  Dee heard the crinkle of white deli paper and the sound of Stu chomping. She held the receiver away from her and waited until Stu barked at her again. “Dee? You there?”

  “Yes, I am. You were going to tell me how the bra was selling.”

  “The numbers are flat. That’s not a good word in bras.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” she said evenly. “So what happens next?”

  “We’re pulling them, Dee. Gonna dump the rest at a deep discount wherever we can. The ladies love the way the red velvet looks but it seems like the construction don’t do nothing for the ta-tas.”

  “Okay. I hear you.” She let Stu rattle on while she covered the mouthpiece and filled Tom in on the details.

  “Now,” Stu was saying, “if you want to bring us a new design with the uplift that smart shoppers demand, we would look at that. But we can’t finance another prototype.”

  Dee didn’t know which was more annoying, that he was chewing on a squishy sandwich while he talked to her or that he used a phrase like smart shoppers because he thought it was cool. “Look, Stu, I’m in the middle of breakfast. Can I get back to you?”

  “It’s four in the afternoon,” the lingerie buyer said loudly. “I got a crisis on my hands and you’re eating?”

  “You are,” she pointed out.

  “Listen, sweetheart—”

  “Good-bye, Stu.” Dee hung up and looked mournfully at Tom. “The red velvet bra isn’t selling. Guess the magic only worked for you.”

  He put down his paper. “Are you serious? That has to be the world’s sexiest bra.”

  Dee chewed on the cold bagel just to make herself more miserable. “Obviously that has a lot to do with what’s inside it. He said Love-Lee-Lace won’t finance another production run.”

  “I will,” Tom said firmly.

  “Oh no. Business and pleasure do not mix. We all know that. I road-tested the first one on you and look what happened.”

  “I ate it.”

  “Oh, be serious for a second. I was so sure the bra was perfect, I didn’t ask Love-Lee-Lace for anything besides the money to make it. No focus groups, no marketing tests, nothing. So my fabulous creation is headed for the dollar stores. A fate worse than death in the rag trade.”

  Tom listened carefully, nodding his head. “How much money did you lose?”

  “None. Why?”

  “Then you have a clear slate. Love-Lee-Lace took the hit, not you. Creative people have ups and downs, good days and bad days—”

  “But I have a bad bra.”

  “There are no bad bras,” Tom said.

  She put the gnawed piece of bagel back on her plate. “You’re just saying that because you love boobs and bras and…” Dee began to cry. A lot. Then she wiped her drippy nose on the cuff of her chenille bathrobe in one disgusting but really satisfying swipe.

  “And I love you. We’re going to get through this. I think what you need is a new manufacturer. And we may have to bring in a tech team—you know, engineers who can get the construction down to a science—”

  She swallowed her tears. “I love it when you talk man, Tom. No—no, I don’t. I hate it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Bra making is a lot closer to art than science. Breasts are just too variable in size and shape—that’s why I thought the stretch velvet would work—are you listening to me?”

  Tom folded his paper. “I heard every word you said. You can’t give up, Dee. Ask yourself the big question. W.W.U.I.D.?”

  “Huh?”

  “W.W.U.I.D. What would Uncle Is do?” Tom said with annoying patience. “Would he tell you to just give up? No way. He’d tell you to follow your dream.”

  “I get the feeling you’re about to burst into song,” Dee said sourly. “This is my life. Not a musical.”

  “Then don’t let one bad thing stop you.”

  “Okay with you if I tap dance into the shower now?”

  Tom looked at her curiously. “You just took a shower.”

  “I know. But it’s a great place to cry. And don’t you dare offer me any sympathy until I’m good and ready for it.”

  Tom got up when she did. “How about money? Will that do it for you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re running a business. You hit a bump and now you need cash to get over it. First things first. Your staff. You don’t have one. Write a glowing recommendation for Tank Girl—”

  “Her name is Jami and she’s a nice kid,” Dee said stubbornly.

  “Okay, so she can get a real job, maybe join the army if she likes their boots so much—”

  “You don’t understand. She can’t bring herself to swat a fly. Jami would never pick up a gun.”

  Tom sighed with exasperation. “Bear with me. You have to hire some capable people. That’s just my advice. You don’t have to listen to it.”

  “Good. I won’t.”

  He looked at her with wide eyes, still a little puffy from sleep. His hair stuck out every which way, and he rubbed it, making it worse. “I do believe we’re having our first argument
.”

  “And it probably won’t be the last,” she muttered.

  He unfolded the newspaper and flipped it back to a sharply angled crease in the middle, looking annoyingly like a husband. “Dee, it’s not worth worrying about.”

  “And why is that, Tom?”

  He was pretending to read an article, as far as she could tell. “Because it just doesn’t matter all that much in the great scheme of things.”

  She pointed the chewed scrap of bagel at him like it was a loaded gun. “It matters to me. I spend way too much rolling around with you, I know that. And look where it got me.”

  Tom shrugged. “New products flop all the time.”

  She gritted her teeth. “How can you be so casual about it?”

  He gave up on reading and refolded the paper, badly. Which was unusual for him. Even though his apartment was man-messy, he always arranged his paper in suburban-commuter-origami sections.

  “Look, I’m sorry about the bad news. Especially since I was planning to surprise you. I went shopping yesterday. Bought you a present.”

  Dee got up to pace the kitchen, tying her bathrobe sash tighter with a vicious jerk. “It must be a very small present.”

  “Look next to the cream cheese. Behind the jam. Under the salt shaker.”

  She saw it. “Aww. A greeting card. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Actually, it’s an invitation.”

  Dee threw up her hands. “I don’t have time to party, Tom. The next three weeks are going to be a work blitz. If you think I’m cranky now, just wait until I start on yet another prototype. And brace yourself for my epic battle to come with Stu, the Love-Lee-Lace man. It isn’t going to be pretty.”

  Tom got up and intercepted her in midpace to put his arms around her. Dee struggled and pushed at his chest. “Homicidal woman crossing, didn’t you see the sign? No hugs.”

  “Dee, Dee,” he said soothingly. “I’m on your side.”

  She relaxed but only fractionally. He rubbed her back through the chenille and the baggy T-shirt underneath it. Dee hated to admit it, but what he was doing felt good. Really good.