Sixty-Nine

by Pynk

  Darla started to moan and again glanced up at the ceiling. It was a sight for sore eyes. Two couples, two women getting eaten, two men doing the eating like they were devouring strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, legs spread, all in the same bed. She couldn’t get past the sight of the freaks before her, including her, then wondering if she even qualified to be considered one, remembering that her good girl side was being overshadowed by her bad girl side, so she assumed yes. She looked down at Aaron, wondering how he could ever be in this situation, let alone bring her into it with him. He was her husband, and she was his wife. This was against all the rules. They were sinning.

  The yellow woman looked over at Darla’s face and pumped her own pussy harder into her husband’s face, and Aaron’s tongue stuck deeper and stiffer into Darla’s pussy and before she knew it, she realized that Aaron came inside of his hand at the same time the yellow woman creamed and screamed and stared at Aaron and raised her ass from the covers as high as she could. Her legs and feet were flexed straight out. Her husband stayed with her and kept it up and she came with a begging sound like she was being shot from a cannon, losing her X-rated mind. And the brown man stood up fast and stroked his penis, focused and precise, he held his breath and squinted, stopping his cum by squeezing his shaft and tip extra hard. He looked like he was about to bust.

  Aaron stood up, went into the bathroom, and left Darla to watch an unknown brown man hold onto his dick, his yellow woman coming down from her orgasm caused by the sight of Darla’s husband, eating his wife’s pussy.

  Whew, Darla said as she snapped back into reality, now turning onto Collins Avenue, but just for a second.

  She remembered that right after Aaron came out of the bathroom after washing up, the yellow woman was on all fours, watching him. Her voyeuristic man sat in a flowered antique chair in the corner. Quiet.

  Aaron was hard again and took the condom off the bed and brought his dick to Darla. She took her time opening the black foil package, looking up at him, but he only looked at the yellow woman, who squirmed in anticipation. His dick was again way stiff, way wide, and way long. Darla managed to fit the tight condom on his penis and he patted her on her shoulder, like “I’m going in,” and walked over to the end of the bed and put his hand on the yellow woman’s backside. She looked back at him with bedroom eyes, and Darla watched Aaron stick her dick into the strange yellow woman’s body, and Aaron closed his eyes, pumping his ass muscles like he was digging for gold in a cave that only needed two more good grinds to drill into the goldmine that contained his fantasy fortune. He pumped and unzipped his eyes long enough to look at Darla.

  She heard the brown man bust a nut, but didn’t look at him. She didn’t look at the yellow woman, either. She only watched Aaron, coming inside of the rubber, inside of the yellow woman, her dick coming from the feeling of another woman’s pussy. A gorgeous, thin, young, yellow woman.

  Darla lay on her back two feet away from them. Her nipples were hard but her hands were not on her body. They were under the pillow that was propped under her head, balled up from bridled jealousy.

  Aaron was lost and the more he came, the more the yellow woman fucked him. Aaron completed his climax, and pulled out, and the brown man took his place in line, dick full grown again, penetrating his wife raw with his curved penis, riding her through her fuck, hitting some erotic spot that made her howl, and managing to flip her over and fuck her missionary. Two dicks in a row. Her pussy surrendered. Aaron lay close to Darla, condom full of his seed. He watched the couple fuck hard, and Darla again only watched him. The yellow woman came strong.

  The four spent the night together, naked.

  Hours later, at six-twenty in the morning, Darla’s eyes popped open after hearing a lustful whisper, “Oh yeah. Fuck me deep with that thick dick. Fuck me and make me come.”

  The mattress moved to their grinds as they fucked under the covers. A slight squeak could be heard. The room was dark. Darla was right next to them, and on the other side of them was the yellow woman’s husband, sleeping.

  This time, now sober, Aaron looked over at his wife, saw her face, pulled out, got up, and turned on the light. “Excuse us. It was nice, but we’ve gotta go pretty early, so we need to get ready if you don’t mind.”

  The yellow woman shook her husband awake, leaned over and kissed Darla on the cheek, and in ten minutes, they were gone.

  Aaron and Darla fell back asleep until the afternoon. They did nothing that day but lie out, eat, and sleep some more. She felt the need to pray.

  Darla never said another word about it. Neither did Aaron. But that night, Aaron had the hardest orgasm Darla had ever witnessed him have in all their years. The yellow woman was in his head. And Darla was reaping the misdirected benefit.

  The next day they were back in Miami, living life, working, planning their next vacation. Never again did they go to a Hedonism retreat. Darla never wanted to experience it again. Aaron knew, even without it being said, that it would never happen again.

  As Darla arrived home after her flashback thoughts, she parked her car and prepared to turn off the ignition and go upstairs to her condo. But first she reached between her legs and felt the moisture. She’d soaked her panties from the swinger’s rewind. She lifted the front of her black knit dress, slid her skimpy leopard print panties to the side, and stuck her finger inside of herself, right there in her car. Her middle finger was creamy wet, juices all under her fingernail. She had to admit, that vacation turned her the hell on back then, and even now. She’d never, ever forget it.

  Twenty-One

  “Suddenly”

  Magnolia

  INT.—MILLER LOCKHART’S HOME—KEY BISCAYNE, FLORIDA—EVENING

  April 6, 2009

  Miller Lockhart lived on North Bay Road in the exclusive Key Biscayne area of South Florida in Dade County. His custom, bone-colored, ornate Victorian-style three-story home was built over ten years ago and was over four thousand square feet. With a spectacular pool area, it was the five-bedroom home he and his wife bought before they divorced. When he retired from Bear Stearns last year, he paid it off. His ex-wife, on the other hand, was living with their son. She had a younger boyfriend she left Miller for, who took her for the money she’d gotten from the divorce settlement. She was getting a taste of the real world and was not handling the reality too well. But from what Magnolia could see, Miller, on the other hand, was.

  Magnolia and Rebe had been playing phone tag. And even when Rebe called her back, Magnolia took her time returning her call. She convinced herself she wanted Rebe to answer, needed Rebe to answer, but when she didn’t, it was almost a relief to simply talk to Rebe’s voice mail.

  Just after work, all that was on Magnolia’s mind was the peace and serenity of Miller’s place. She entered his kitchen with her key that he’d given her the week before. Old-school Miller played a Lionel Richie CD, right now in the middle of “Three Times a Lady.” Magnolia hummed along while dropping her overnight bag at the door, and set her purse and keys down on the soapstone kitchen counter. She approached Miller with a kiss on the lips, standing on her tiptoes. “Sounds good, looks good, and smells good in here. What are you cooking, sweetie?”

  He stood before the stove in his shorts and black T-shirt, barefoot. “You said you liked Mexican food. I made enchiladas.” He pulled back the foil paper from the baking dish. The steam and spicy aroma made themselves known. Extra cheese, black olives, and green onions decorated his baked masterpiece.

  Magnolia inhaled and put her hand on his back. “Look at those. You are something else. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

  “I wanted to.”

  She patted him on his backside. “Chef Miller, after those, I’d like to have you on a platter for dessert, please, sir?”

  “I can make that happen, too.” He stood tall.

  Magnolia giggled and opened the cabinet to remove two ebony dinner plates. “You’re so good to me. The other morning, breakfast in bed. Not to mention fl
owers. A girl could get used to this.”

  “You should. You deserve it, queen that you are.”

  “Thanks my king, that you are.” She looked back at him and gave a wink. She couldn’t believe the fairy tale words she was now hearing, and saying.

  Miller took the liberty of placing two enchiladas on each plate as Magnolia held them still. She walked to the table where he’d already placed the utensils, white wine, and ice water as she sat. He was right behind her and then sat beside her. He said, as they joined hands and bowed their heads, “Bless us, O Lord, for these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  He looked up at her and stared, releasing her hand.

  Magnolia looked back at him, noticing his pause. “What?”

  “Just thinking, which you’ll find I do a lot. I mean, really. Who would’ve thought? Thought I would’ve looked all around while playing golf, taking cruises, and even to the point of walking around Walmart with one eye on the shelf and one eye checking out women in the aisles, as well as going on blind dates…and then I meet you, the woman of my dreams, at a swinger’s club. Two virgin-curious swingers bumped into each other at Erotic City and, well, here we are. You, Magnolia, are something else, angel.”

  “Well thanks, but I don’t know how much of an angel I am. I was coming out of a private room.”

  “Like I said, angel. Highly deserving of the very charm you wear around your neck.”

  “Thanks.” She gave a sexy wink and a shy smile.

  They picked up their forks and dug in.

  He asked, “So, have you heard from Neal?”

  She swallowed her bite. “This is excellent, sweetie. Very good.”

  “Thanks.” He waited.

  “No.” She took a sip of water.

  “Like you said, you see him at work though, right?”

  “Yeah, but not as much as before. Maybe a few times a week. No biggie.”

  “And so even though he’s been persistent, not willing to totally let go, you’re sure there’s no chance of you two ever getting back together?”

  “No chance. Not on my end.” She gave him full-on eyes. “Miller, there was no chance even before I met you.”

  “Good. ’Cause I’ve got plans for you.” He took his first bite.

  “Oh really?”

  He paused to finish chewing, then swallowed. “Really. I’m telling you, if all goes well, this is it for me. I’m ready for this. I look at us in the long term, being together for the rest of our lives.”

  “Oh, is that right?”

  “Oh, I’m claiming this. I’ve had a taste of being alone and I choose the alternative. I don’t want to die alone. I want a companion. Life is no damn good alone.”

  “I agree.” Magnolia heard his words, and kept eating. She took a few moments, and then asked, “And since we’re asking, how about Beth? Your ex-wife. Nothing from her?”

  “Beth will always be Beth. I did ask her not to call so late, like she did a couple of nights ago when you were here.”

  “But you didn’t have to.” Magnolia said, yet in her head wondered why his ex-wife still felt she could.

  “I needed to. Her calls did wake me up at times.”

  “Okay, I just didn’t want you to say it because I’m in your life now. I don’t want to be the reason.”

  “Done deal.” He leaned over and kissed Magnolia on the cheek.

  She smiled and took another bite.

  He asked, “So, are we going to your grandmother’s house so I can meet her next week?”

  “Yes. After church. You sure you’re ready for that?”

  “I am. I’m ready for whatever’s in your life.”

  Magnolia put down her fork and rested her elbow along the table, her chin to her inside palm. She examined him closely. “Are you real? Wait, let me pinch your amazing ass to see.” She grabbed the skin of his forearm and squeezed.

  He laughed, moving himself away as though ticklish. “You’re something else. And yes, I am real. And I was thinking about something. Angel, I want to help you find your father. I have a friend who can help out.”

  She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “Honestly, after all these years, I don’t want to know who he is, Miller. And besides, my grandmother knows. I’ve just never asked. Some things are better off left alone.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say.” He ate another bite and sipped his wine. “Does your grandmother know my age?”

  She nodded and leaned forward.

  “Cool.”

  “Miller, I’m cool with you. You just keep showing me who you are by what you do. And from what I’ve seen you doing, you’ve got my full attention. I told you before, you’ve also got my heart, and my trust. To lose it, it’s on you.”

  After a few minutes, he stood and took their plates to the sink. He said, “Just remember what I said. My search is over. Period.”

  “Okay now,” Magnolia told him with a big grin that seemed sure.

  But it was her heart that felt like it was only half sure. It braced itself for a usual replay of her past.

  And just in case, for a moment, she imagined him not being who he said he was. It was her usual mind-visitor named Doubt.

  Doubt had beaten her into shape for years, just from relationships not lasting.

  From saying I can’t live without you, to managing to live without you.

  It was the doubt that made her a bit more reserved than she wanted to be.

  Reserved just enough to wonder at that very moment, Why is Neal being so unusually quiet?

  INT.—MILLER’S MASTER BEDROOM—LATE EVENING

  Magnolia spoke from the place where Miller explored that was bringing her to a slow, lustful, dizzying place that made her want to talk with her eyes closed. “I’ve never been made love to. Like really made love to. Like I want to stay close to you, like this. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.” It was all brand-new to her.

  “Yes.” His precision grinds had soul.

  They lay naked on his king bed. The headboard was dark leather. The bedding was blue and gray striped. His deluxe bedroom had vaulted ceilings with exposed beams. The amber light added a subtle glow, floor to high ceiling, and upon their bodies. Her gardenia scent was potent. The Hugo Boss cologne he’d sprayed added to the manly allure of man-to-woman bonding. His testosterone and her estrogen mixed well together. His strand and her strand of DNA were in the other’s brain, making love. Dopamine at work.

  She purred. “You’re a great lover.”

  He growled. “So are you.”

  Another five minutes just as they were, and then she said with a sultry voice, “Baby, turn me around and let me stand at the end of the bed, and do what you did when I was in your swimming pool last weekend. Please.”

  He was on it without hesitation, pausing and easing himself off of her. She got up and stood at the foot of his bed. “Let’s try it this way,” he said, propping up a pillow along the mattress, under her knees as she got on all fours. “Now lower your head and poke out your rear end.”

  She did.

  He kept one foot on the floor, and the other foot on the bed, he rose up as high as he could, pressing her down even lower so he could hit the top of her vagina at an angle, her light brown apple bottom was positioned before him, ready to submit, and he inserted himself, bare, just like they’d done ever since they’d gotten their negative blood test results just before the first time they had sex, the day after they met.

  He grabbed the width of his dick and stuck himself inside of her soft opening. She gripped him with her anxious sugar walls, receiving him fully and pressing herself back toward him as he pressed in toward her.

  And Magnolia began making that sound. The same sound she made when he had her in the pool. The sounds of a car that’s been sitting out in the cold for too long, and now someone has finally turned the key that fits, the key that’s trying to get it to start, trying to get it to kick ove
r. It was a revving rumble, like a humming sound, a dick to pussy winding sound, almost as though in pain, yet with a tad bit of ecstasy. Magnolia’s head was to the side, her eyes were closed, her mouth was open.

  Her eyes welled up with tears, and she was going nuts.

  His rear entry pussy fucking was fucking her up. As he thrust his hips, he aimed at an angle, downward, and then he switched up, aiming his angle toward his foot. He was at times very deep, and then at times shallow enough to add the right amount of pressure to Magnolia’s soft yet rough spot, and he could tell when he hit it by her pleasure screams. He made sure he had a precise, direct hit, using his hands to grip her womanly curves that flowed from her waist to her hips. If he’d had neighbors close by, they would have known he was fucking, because all she said while sucking on her teeth was, “Shit. Shit. Shit,” over, and over, and over again.

  On her own, she brought her hand down between her legs to rub her fingers along her excited clit, and her orgasm approached fast. She suddenly stopped touching herself, as her new king conquered her by taking her to the greatest height while she ran around in the kingdom of her spinning head, and again yelled, “Shit.” She unraveled and froze.

  In two minutes, Magnolia had Miller’s dick in her mouth as he stood and she lay across the bed on her stomach, bobbing him into ecstasy with two hands serving a tight grip, standing in as her vagina, and a wet, willing, sucking mouth, and even as quiet as he was while he fucked, he did manage to say, “Will you marry me?” And then he came.

  Magnolia tensed up and took his release into her mouth, swallowing twice to accept all of him the way she’d done before. The way she’d done for no other man. It was a real sexual resolution that she’d vowed to try. And Miller was the lucky winner of her newfound bravery. She backed away and could focus on nothing but wondering if his out-of-the-blue question was out of temporary orgasm insanity.

  He looked down at her. His face was flushed, and his hairy chest was, too.