by Radclyffe
“What do you know about me, Slicke?”
“You’re a criminal. That’s all I need to know.”
“You know more than that. You know where I live…where I hang out…and you know what I sound like when I come…don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eboni mumbles, cocky as ever, even though her pulse quickens and her stomach flutters.
“Did you like that little show of mine last night?” Fiona comes closer, gun still trained on her target. “I bet you did. I bet you thought it was real, didn’t you?”
Eboni lets her eyes go soft, slouches a little. “So, you didn’t really…”
Something changes in Fiona’s demeanor. She points the gun at the floor, comes a few steps closer. “Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn’t. Maybe I liked you watching me.” A little closer, and Eboni puts on her best come-hither smile.
“Maybe I liked watching,” purrs the detective.
Fiona licks her lips and takes another step, giving Eboni the chance to kick the gun deftly out of her hand. “Okay, white girl. Let’s dance.”
Five minutes later, the crib is wrecked and both ladies are bruised and exhausted. Eboni refuses to give in, but she’s running out of steam, so goes for the easy target—Fiona’s long hair.
“Ow! No fair!”
“Shut up,” Eboni roars as she wrestles Fiona by her hair and pins her to the ground. “It’s over. Tell me why you’re here.”
Fiona laughs as she catches her breath, continuing to struggle, but clearly exhausted. “I’m here to tell you to get out of town. Right now.”
“Why?”
“Because Boss Charlie sent me here to get rid of you.”
Eboni is too pleased to finally have something to take to the D.A. to even bother feeling frightened. “What’s stopping you?”
“You on top of me.”
Eboni looks down at her nakedness and blushes, hoping to god that Fiona hasn’t noticed that she has been horny as hell since they started fighting. By the way Fiona’s eyes slide down to between her legs, yeah, she knows.
“Aw, hell.” Eboni sits back, relieving the pressure on Fiona’s wrists, but she doesn’t let go, not even when Fiona arches upward, pressing her face between Eboni’s breasts, her thigh between Eboni’s legs.
“Tell me something, Detective.” Fiona smiles shyly as she nudges Eboni’s left breast with her nose, rubbing her swollen lips around the nipple until Eboni gasps her approval. “Do you like vanilla?”
“I’m starting to.” Eboni tries to hold back a moan when she feels a hot open mouth on her nipples and possessive hands on her ass. But when Fiona brushes nervous hands over Eboni’s face, touches her full lips and whispers “what a fine-ass sistah,” Eboni gives in. She kisses Fiona hard, impatiently, riled up by the fighting and the flirting. Thankfully Fiona doesn’t say I told you so. She’s too busy sucking Eboni’s tongue into her mouth to talk, too busy squeezing Eboni’s full breasts to fight, too busy grinding herself against Eboni’s crotch to run away.
Standing quickly to pull her dress over her head, Fiona leans in, giving Eboni her belly to kiss, her ass to knead, her body to possess. Eboni starts with one breast, cupping it possessively as she licks circles over the sensitive nipple. When she adds a bit of teeth, Fiona squeals and yanks gracelessly on her panties. Eboni pulls them down slowly so she can revel at the damp spot on the crotch. She pulls Fiona to her, rubbing her nose and lips over the curly pubic hair, almost as curly as hers. Just a bit closer, and she’s kissing Fiona’s lips, licking at the swollen labia until Fiona growls and pulls away, breathing hard.
“Bedroom,” Fiona purrs, pulling Eboni quickly through the broken lamps and overturned furniture. She sinks to the bed, scooting back so Eboni can kneel before her and watch as she spreads wide. Her mouth open and wet, she looks like she might burst into tears if Eboni doesn’t taste her soon. Eboni touches, teases, coaxes Fiona’s vulva open while she kisses her inner thighs.
“Eboni…god…I wasn’t faking last night. I swear.”
Eboni giggles with the realization that she doesn’t care one way or the other. Still, it’s nice to hear. She rewards Fiona with long, slow tongue strokes up and down the cleft of Venus before spearing her, sliding her tongue deep into Fiona’s warm vagina. She digs in for more, sucking and licking the skin over Fiona’s clitoris until Fiona squeals and grabs at Eboni’s head.
“Watch the ‘fro.”
“Sorry.” Fiona settles for grabbing Eboni’s shoulders, her face, anything to get more lips, more tongue, more everything. When she looks down and sees Eboni stroking herself, she hisses, “Hurry…so I can do you.”
Eboni curses and wets her forefinger, then presses it against Fiona’s vagina, watching intently as she enters her, feeling the heat inside. With Fiona’s legs lifted off the bed, Eboni can reach inside with three fingers, fucking her deep and slow, smiling at how sticky her hand is getting. Once she starts sucking steady and fast on Fiona’s clit, it’s all over. She keeps it up, fingers fast and tongue faster, until Fiona screams her arrival.
“Not bad for a white—”
“I’ll show you not bad,” Fiona hisses. She pushes Eboni on her back quickly, but takes her time touching her.
Eboni squirms as white hands learn her curves, fondle her nipples and massage her calves.
“Spread your legs. I want to see the motherland.”
Any other time Eboni would burst out laughing, but she’s too turned on now. Right now everything coming out of Fiona’s mouth sounds like heaven. So she sits up and leans on one elbow as she rubs long, trigger-ready fingers over her mons.
“Lemme see,” Fiona whispers.
Eboni gladly spreads her labia with her fingers, exposing herself to Fiona’s inquisitive eyes.
“Yeah,” Fiona whispers, licking her lips at the blackness, the pinkness, the wetness. “You like vanilla, all right.”
“Fuck, yes.” Eboni reaches out, but Fiona is on her right away, licking all over Eboni’s genitals, sucking on the hood of her clitoris, teasing the vagina until it coats the tip of her tongue. “Don’t stop, Fiona, don’t stop.”
“Wow. You’ve never said my name before.”
Their eyes meet, and suddenly Eboni feels scared, in a way she hasn’t since the last time she fell for someone.
“I like that.” Fiona stops what she’s doing to crawl up into a searing kiss.
Eboni tastes herself in Fiona’s mouth, thinks that’s where her flavor belongs. She holds Fiona to her. They’re both shaking.
“Can’t believe I’m in bed with Boss Charlie’s girl,” Eboni admits under her breath.
“Fuck Charlie.” Fiona looks her adversary-cum-lover straight in the eye. “Fuck him,” she growls as she spreads Eboni’s thighs wider and slides between, pressing her pussy, still hot and wet, against Eboni’s pubic bone. She tilts and arches slowly, so Eboni can feel her inch by inch, until their clits touch and both women gasp.
“Oh…fuck me,” Eboni demands breathlessly in her I-will-bust-a-cap-in-your-ass voice.
“With pleasure.” Fiona kisses her way back down Eboni’s quivering body, stopping momentarily to suck Eboni’s nipples while her fingers continue their descent. “You feel so good,” she purrs after slipping two fingers inside.
Eboni urges her on with arched back and wanton moans. Then long white fingers slip out of her to make way for one flattened pink tongue.
“Mmm…chocolate.” Fiona’s words become garbled as she sinks farther in, lapping at Eboni’s hard clit and fucking her with as much of her hand as Eboni can take until she starts to shake. “Yeah. C’mon,” Fiona grunts, working faster, her hands and tongue nearly in sync with Eboni’s gyrations. “Yes. Wanted this when I first saw you, baby.”
“Me, too.” The admission is too much. Eboni closes her eyes, squeezes Fiona with her legs, her arms, her pussy, and lets go.
Eboni could kick herself for falling asleep. If she hadn’t, they would have probably gone anothe
r round. And, she wouldn’t have ended up handcuffed to her bedpost.
“I knew it,” she barks as she tugs at her own handcuffs—the only things keeping her from wringing Fiona’s neck. “This was all just a setup.”
Fiona smiles sweetly as she peruses the bedroom for the rest of her clothes. “I told you, Eboni. Boss Charlie’s out to get you. This way, you stay safe.” She leans down to kiss the detective, who turns away petulantly. “You won’t have to worry about him after tonight.”
“What do you mean? Is it that shipment you were talking about last night? Tell me!”
Fiona shrugs and heads for the door.
“Where are my car keys?” Eboni shouts. “I’ll be out of these cuffs in no time and then I’ll be after you.”
“Well, I better take these with me, then.” Stuffing Eboni’s keys into her pocket, Fiona takes a last look at the detective she keeps besting. “I’m really sorry about this, sweetheart. I know you want this. But I want it, too.” She pushes her hair behind her ear and whispers, “I want a lot of things.”
Eboni waits until Fiona’s been gone sixty seconds and then she jumps off the bed, disengages the headboard, drags it across the room to the phone, knocks the receiver to the floor and dials with her big toe.
“Captain,” she yells down at the phone, “send a black-and-white over to my place—and activate that bug that I keep on my keychain!”
Within the hour, a horde of uniformed police are swooping in to surround the warehouse to which Fiona unknowingly led them. Eboni Slicke stands by proudly as Boss Charlie’s henchmen scatter, only to be swiftly taken into custody. She’s almost disappointed that she doesn’t have to shoot anyone.
“You won’t get away with this,” Boss Charlie spits as an officer attempts to cuff him. He turns an accusatory eye at Fiona, who stands obediently with hands raised. “You flipped on me, didn’t you?”
Fiona rolls her eyes, though she looks a little pissed. “I do that a lot.”
“You got that right,” says Eboni under her breath, eyes fixed on Fiona.
Boss Charlie follows the intense gaze between the two women, and then he starts to laugh. “Oh, now I get it. You’re not frigid—you’re a rug muncher! I shoulda known.”
“I didn’t screw you because you disgust me,” Fiona snarls. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
Eboni giggles despite herself. “Three-inch pole, from what I hear.”
Before Fiona can respond, “Got that right,” Boss Charlie head-butts the cop behind him, shakes out of the unlocked cuffs, grabs the uniform’s gun and points it directly at Eboni’s head.
It happens so fast, the other cops don’t have time to react before Boss Charlie pulls the trigger. Eboni dives like a champion, just in case The Man gets lucky and she’s done for. When she recovers, Boss Charlie is dead on the floor and Fiona is standing over him holding the only smoking gun in the room. The other officers shout orders, weapons aimed right at Fiona’s vitals, until she very calmly drops the gun and pulls out a piece of leather from her blouse.
“It’s all right,” Fiona shouts as she holds up a badge. “I’m an undercover cop.”
“I guess we should talk.”
Eboni doesn’t look up from her station desk, just keeps typing up her notes. “Everything you need to know will be in my report,” she grumbles.
“Everything?” Fiona slides carefully onto Eboni’s desk, pulling her dress up enough to show just a peek of the panties Eboni ripped off her hours earlier. “Don’t forget to add the part where you made me come in under three minutes.”
Eboni huffs and stops typing. “Two.”
Fiona scoots closer, her leg brushing against Eboni’s arm. “You can trust me, you know.”
“Can’t do that, Fiona. I don’t know anything real about you.”
“I’m a cop. I’m overworked and underpaid and I’ve almost died more times than I can count.” Fiona touches Eboni’s hand, and both women blush at the electricity between them. “And I love my job. I get to serve the public, and I get to bring down assholes like Boss Charlie. And…I got to meet you.”
“Damn. No wonder you’re so good undercover.”
“It’s true. You’re a great cop.” Fiona licks her lips and murmurs, “You’re great at a lot of things.”
Eboni can’t help smiling. Fiona’s sitting too close. “So, what do you want?”
“I want to talk shop with you,” Fiona replies softly yet decisively. “I want to go to target practice with you.” She slides her knee underneath Eboni’s forearm, hissing when the detective takes the hint and brushes tentative fingers on her inner thigh. “I want to taste you again, right now,” she whispers. “And tomorrow and the next day, too.”
Barely able to breathe, Eboni closes her eyes and tries to picture herself cruising in the ’hood, funk music booming on her stereo, dashiki on her back, with a gorgeous white chick by her side. Doesn’t seem possible. And then she remembers how good it felt to fall asleep in Fiona’s arms. She shuts off her typewriter.
“Well, I’m beat, and my pad is a mess.”
Fiona stands and offers a hopeful smile. “I have coffee and doughnuts at my place.”
“Good.” Eboni slips her fingers into Fiona’s soft hand, Neapolitan minus the strawberry. “Let’s go.”
STUDY GROUP
Radclyffe
Could anything be worse than an empty dorm on the holidays? The echo of my solitary footsteps had me turning every few yards to see who might be coming down the hall after me—and the shower was seriously creepy. After the first night of Thanksgiving break, I’d taken to leaving the bathroom door and the shower door open, and washing as if water was being rationed—triple time, speed rinse.
Most of the time, I pretty much liked dorm living—okay, maybe after three months, the thrill of living away from home was starting to get a little old. I mean, it was fun, even if the university did have a freshman curfew. But the curfew was one o’clock, and at home I’d had to be in most nights by eleven, except when my father was feeling generous and said twelve thirty. Of course, he’d stopped waiting up for me to come in when I was seventeen, so that last summer before I left for school was a lot better. I wasn’t really dating very much anyway, so twelve thirty was usually plenty late enough for me. I’d drive most of the time because my three best girlfriends liked to party, and drinking didn’t seem to agree with me. I didn’t like feeling fuzzy and out of control and I definitely didn’t like puking, so being the party-pooper designated driver was no hardship.
I wasn’t really into picking up guys like they were either. I’d tried that about as many times as I’d tried drinking and felt just about as disappointed afterward. Some of the guys were decent kissers and the few times I’d gone further than that had been okay. For some reason, guys seemed to think that a clit was just a little dick and tended to handle it just the same too—rough, too fast and sort of goal oriented—like getting off was all there was to care about. Cocks were okay—not real subtle in terms of the mechanics, but then that was fine with me. A few strokes, a couple of tugs and they were good to go. They were happy, I was kind of glad to be done with it and that was that. So after the first few times, I wasn’t really interested in a repeat.
Once I got to school, I didn’t have time to worry about partying or dating guys. I was pre-med, so that pretty much said it all. According to my mom, who’s a surgeon, it wasn’t quite as hard to get into medical schools as it used to be, but I still wanted to have my pick of schools and I planned on having really good grades. I studied a lot and didn’t hang with too many of my dorm mates.
The dorms were divided up into four suites at the corner of every floor, each with two bedrooms and a common study area. Every floor had its own central lounge shared by all the residents in the suites on that floor. My roommate, Shar, was into art, and even though we didn’t have much in common, we’d gotten tight really fast. Sometimes I’d catch her looking at me with a thoughtful expression, like she was
waiting for me to figure something out, but when I’d say What? she’d just shake her head with a little smile that made me feel clueless and a little tingly all at once.
Shar and I were the only students on our floor who hadn’t gone home for Thanksgiving break. My parents had a chance to go away on some cruise, and since my mom didn’t usually have a lot of time off, I told them they should go. I could’ve flown to California and spent the holiday with my grandparents, but it seemed like a long way to go for a few days, and I could use the time to study. I wasn’t exactly behind, but it was always good to be ahead.
I don’t know why Shar stayed at school, but I figured it had something to do with her girlfriend Andi, who lived halfway across the country. Andi’s parents were freaked about her being queer, so I guess she didn’t want to go home alone—and Shar wasn’t welcome. The two of them hadn’t been out of Shar’s room much since Wednesday afternoon after everyone else left. If I’d had a steady…somebody…I’d probably want to be doing it 24/7 too. Last night had been a little tricky, though. Shar was loud when she came, and she was coming almost all night. At one point I thought about sleeping on the couch in the lounge, but then I would’ve been embarrassed because they’d know I could hear them. And besides that, I kinda liked hearing them. Okay, I liked hearing them a lot.
Shar talked when she got excited, so it’s not like I had to try hard to hear what was happening. The closer she got to coming, the more she directed Andi to do her just so.
That’s it, baby, oh yeah put your mouth right there. Suck my clit. Lick me now, baby. You’ll make me come, oh fuck oh god I’m going to come in your mouth.
And so on. Over and over. She just kept on and on about how good it felt, how close she was getting, and Andi would be groaning and chanting Come, baby, come. Oh yeah, all over me, come, baby.
After an hour of that I was so freaking turned on I had to come myself. I’d seen girls kissing before, and I’m pretty sure I saw Nancy Tucker get off with her girlfriend at a party, but they weren’t making much noise and I felt a little perverted watching them. But it’s not like I could do anything about hearing Shar and Andi. I don’t think Shar would really care if I got off listening to her come. So I did. A couple of times. Okay, four times. In fact, thinking about it was getting me turned on again, and advanced calculus really wasn’t much of a problem for me. It’s not like I really had to do that right now.
