Voices came from behind the door again. More laughter. The temperature in the air had risen by about twenty degrees. Steve was an ass and deserved what he had coming to him, but I won’t lie . . . he was looking good and had me moist, thinking about Marlene’s statement again.
I let my eyes drift downward and settle on a growing bulge in his pants. The bulge jumped once, twice. I looked back up at Steve.
I said, “Is that what you think? That I’m longing to lick something else?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
I took another step closer. We were standing inches apart now, our breath intertwining. If someone opened the door, they’d probably assume we’d been kissing. The sexual tension that hovered between us was thick. The excitement and audacity strong. I stared into Steve’s eyes. He resembled a wolf, staring at prey. He wanted to pounce. He wanted to devour.
I licked my lips again. Then I put my hand on his crotch. Felt him throb. Felt him grow. I looked into his eyes as I held him.
He was gone.
If I told him to fuck me right then and there, he would have.
“Have you ever been with a black woman before, Steve?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around his girth. “Have you ever tasted one?”
Steve’s manhood pulsed. “Never,” he said.
“Would you like to know what it’s like?” I grabbed hold of his hand and guided it to the bottom of my skirt. “Would you like to know how it feels?” He caressed the inside of my thigh. “Would you like to see how wet it is?”
As more laughter erupted inside of his house, Steve’s hand slithered beneath my skirt and made its way upwards toward my shaved pussy.
I squeezed his crotch. Stroked it over his pants.
He sucked in a quick breath.
He was on the brink of explosion.
I tightened my grip around him and stroked him faster. “Would you like to fuck me, Steve?”
His breathing quickened even more.
His fingers were at my door, about to turn the knob and slide inside.
Before they could, I let go of him and stepped back.
Seconds later, the front door opened. Bill, from marketing, and his wife, Rita. Over Steve’s breathing and between my questions, I’d heard them faintly telling everyone goodbye.
I smiled at Bill. As I did, Steve dug his hands in his pocket and pretended to be looking for something, while trying to adjust himself. Bill smiled back at me and walked by, oblivious.
His wife. When she walked by, she made eye contact with me and gave me a scowl.
A woman always knows.
When Bill and Rita were gone, I looked at Steve. He’d managed to regain his composure. I licked my lips and then without a word, walked by him and went back inside.
Marlene was waiting for me. Standing between the living and dining rooms, she watched me. I gave her a nod, and then went to get something to drink. I was sipping some champagne when Steve came inside, walked past me as though he hadn’t almost finger-fucked me.
He went upstairs.
Was gone for a few minutes.
When he came back down, he had on a different pair of pants.
Marlene, who hadn’t moved, saw that and looked at me.
I took another sip of my champagne then put the glass down, grabbed my purse from where I’d left it on the couch, and left.
8
Three days later.
Lunchtime.
Steve walked into my office and closed the door.
I looked up at him, not surprised to see him, but rather surprised that he hadn’t come two days earlier. He’d cum in his pants, and I knew he was going to want to finish what I’d started. The way I’d teased and then left him; his dick might have grown limp after he came, but I know in his head, he was still rock hard. Men were weak like that.
I said, “Steve.”
He said, “Lisette.”
“Are you looking for Marlene?”
Steve walked up to my desk. “You know I’m not.”
I closed my eyes a bit, then hit save on the report I’d been working on, and leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “Do I?”
He leaned forward on my desk. “Is this some sort of game you’re playing?”
“I don’t play games, Steve.”
Steve clenched his jaws. “This doesn’t make sense.” He paused and let out a frustrated breath.
“What doesn’t?”
“Last Friday . . . what happened outside . . . what the hell was that about?” He clenched his jaws again.
I stared at him for a moment, watching his white face turn maroon. He was used to being in control and having it as well. I could tell by the tension in his posture and the frustration in his eyes that he’d never been in the position where he’d never had control from the beginning. And he most certainly had never lost it like he had when he ejaculated in his pants. “You never answered my question,” I said.
“What question?”
My eyes on his, I said, “Do you want to fuck me?”
I watched him watch me. I could see the wheels in his brain spinning.
He said, “I thought you were Marlene’s friend.”
I stood up, walked around my desk, and stood in front of him. I was wearing a silk, lavender blouse and a black skirt that stopped in the middle of my thigh. No stockings. Just a thong underneath. “Do you plan on telling Marlene?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then Marlene and I will still be friends.”
Steve swallowed. Looked past me to the door. Then back at me. I glanced down and saw his crotch jump beneath his pants.
This was just too easy.
I leaned forward, brought my lips toward his, and dared him to move away with my eyes. “Answer my question, Steve,” I said, my full lips centimeters away from his thin ones. “Do you want to fuck me?”
Steve’s breathing was quick, shallow. I could practically hear his heart pulsating beneath his chest. I put my hand over his hard crotch.
He took in a breath and said, “Yes.” He tried to kiss me, but I wouldn’t allow it.
I backed up a step and stared at him. Watched the rise and fall of his chest. He liked to work out. His chest and shoulders were both broad. I imagined running my hands over his pecs. I said, “Would you like to fuck me right now?”
“Yes,” he answered.
I felt like asking him if he’d jump off a bridge for me, just to hear him say yes again. He was that far gone. Instead I asked, “Would you like to taste me?”
“Yes.”
I erased the step I’d taken back and licked his lips. “I’m wet, Steve. I’m dripping.”
“I want to taste it,” he said.
I stared at him as my body temperature rose. I was aroused. Extremely aroused. When I’d come from around my desk to stand in front of him, I’d only intended on getting him worked up the way I had before. I wanted to make him beg with his eyes. I wanted to tease him and leave him hanging again. But standing in front of him . . . feeling his erection . . . seeing the animalistic desire in his eyes . . . the control I had was total. The power was electric.
He wanted to taste me.
I wanted to make him taste me.
I said, “Eat me.”
Steve stared at me, and then looked to the door again.
“Eat me now.”
I moved from in front of him and went back to my chair and sat down. “Come and taste it,” I said.
Steve flexed his jaws again.
He wanted to say no, that it was too dangerous.
He stared at my pussy.
He desperately wanted to say no.
But he couldn’t.
He came and knelt down in front of me and parted my legs with his hands.
I licked my lips and put my hands behind his head and guided him downtown. I closed my eyes and exhaled as his tongue slid inside of me.
Like an archeologist, Steve explored the walls of my pussy, sweeping from side t
o side in swift, seizure-like motions. Left. Right. Left. Right. I exhaled and bit down on my bottom lip when his tongue changed directions and moved up and down.
I put more pressure on the back of his head. Steve let out a low growl, audible to only us, and spread my legs wider and drove his tongue deeper inside of me.
I exhaled.
Got the chills.
The things he was doing to my clit.
I exhaled again.
My chills became shivers.
“Make me cum, Steve,” I said, moving my hips. “Make . . . me . . . cum.”
Steve licked, nibbled, sucked.
I moaned.
Shivered some more.
Then I pushed his face into me and suffocated him as I erupted. Made him lick and swallow until I was spent and then let go of his head.
Total control. The ultimate aphrodisiac.
Still on his knees, he looked up at me. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked.
I slid my skirt down and stared at him. Men. Always needing reassurance. Always needing to have their egos stroked.
I could have told him that, yes, I had enjoyed making him do what I wanted. That his weakness could bring out the freak in me. But he couldn’t handle the truth.
I reached across my desk, picked up the phone, dialed an extension, and looked at him as I said into the receiver, “Hey, Marlene. You have a few minutes to go over some ideas I’ve come up with?”
Steve’s eyes widened with surprise and disbelief. He stood up.
“Okay,” I said. “Call me when you’re finished.”
I hung up the phone and stared at Steve. He called me a bitch with his eyes. I wanted to laugh.
I said, “Do you still want to fuck me?”
Steve flexed his jaws. He wanted to say no. He wanted to curse me out, maybe even hit me. His face was maroon again and going toward purple. I could see it in his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with me and my bullshit anymore. He could go and get pussy somewhere else.
But it wouldn’t be my pussy.
And after having knocked on the door and taken one step inside, I could also see in his eyes that he wanted to completely cross the threshold more than ever.
He said, “Marlene told me this morning that she has a business trip to go on. She leaves Wednesday. Are you going too?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Can I see you Saturday?”
“Friday,” I said. “I have plans Saturday.”
“Okay. Do you like Italian food?”
I shook my head. “This isn’t a date, Steve. I’ll be at your house between eight-thirty and nine.”
“My house?”
“Your house,” I said.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the ringing of my phone pierced the air before he could.
I looked at the caller ID, and then answered. “Hey, Marlene. Yes, now’s a good time. Okay . . . I’ll see you in five minutes.” I put down the phone. “You better get going,” I said, looking up at Steve. “Marlene won’t wait five minutes.”
He glared at me. He wanted to speak, but he knew he had no time. Completely frustrated, he turned and went to the door.
With his back to me, I said, “You may want to stop by the men’s room on the way out and clean your face.”
Without a reply, Steve opened the door and hurried out in the opposite direction from where Marlene would be coming. Two minutes later, after I picked up my thong and slipped it into my purse, Marlene walked into my office.
9
“Steve was just here.”
Marlene stared at me. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
Bluntly, I answered, “Me.”
Marlene hmph’d, passed her hand through her hair and said, “Fucking asshole.”
“He ate my pussy,” I said.
I watched her closely, looking for her reaction. I wanted to see how hearing something like that would affect her. Could she handle it? Could she deal with the picture her imagination would conjure up? If she could . . . if this wouldn’t phase her, then Friday was still a go, which meant Saturday I’d be depositing another twenty-five thousand into my bank account. If she couldn’t handle it, then there was no way she could deal with walking in and seeing me riding him. Of course, however she reacted would mean little to me. I already had half of the money in the bank that she was not getting back. I’d also had one hell of an orgasm.
Marlene looked at me, then looked off to the side and passed her hand through her hair again. “Unbelievable,” she said. “He has absolutely no respect for me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “None.”
Marlene looked back at me. She asked, “Was it good?”
That actually shocked me. I wouldn’t have expected a question like that to have come from her.
“It was,” I said.
Marlene frowned. “But you would never have married him, right?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
Marlene sighed. “I was just so damn frustrated. My exes—God, they couldn’t perform. Do you know what it’s like to not be satisfied?”
I shook my head again.
“After the first night with Steve, I just couldn’t imagine putting myself in a position to be sexually frustrated again.”
“So you and your pussy latched on to Steve.”
“As if our lives depended on it, yes.”
“And now look at you.”
Marlene sighed again. “I know.” She looked off to the side again and then back at me with pleading eyes. “Did he even hesitate before he . . . touched you?”
“No.”
“Fucking asshole.” She covered her face with her hand and began to cry softly.
I watched her and shook my head disdainfully. A woman crying over a man. I hated that. Hated to see a woman stress over a man’s shortcomings. Especially when the woman had her shit together and didn’t need the bastard.
“Why are you crying, Marlene?”
Marlene sniffled and then wiped tears away with her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated and angry.”
“Your tears are a waste of time.”
“I know,” Marlene said, looking down at the carpet.
“Men like Steve don’t deserve your frustration or your anger.”
“I know,” she said again, the tone in her voice dejected.
I rolled my eyes. “Look at me, Marlene.”
Marlene lifted her head. Her nose had started to change to a deeper shade of red from her crying. The flesh beneath her eyes was puffing up a bit.
“Marlene, in three days you’re going to walk in your home and find your husband fucking your co-worker. You’re going to have a friend with you to witness this. After Friday night, you will be able to divorce Steve without a hassle from your family or friends. Not only that, but Steve will be paying out of his ass in child support for the baby you’re carrying.” I paused, pressed my lips together tightly, and gave her a come-on-now look. “What the hell are you crying for? Steve’s an ass. You know that. The fact that he would come here and eat my pussy shouldn’t surprise you, and it damn sure shouldn’t upset you. I mean, let’s be real here. Are you or are you not paying me to trap your husband?”
Marlene nodded. “I am.”
“All right, then. Did you think that I wouldn’t do my job and do it well?” I gave her another look and didn’t wait for her to answer. “Marlene, life is about to get a whole hell of a lot better for you. Just relax and let everything unfold. Save the tears for when you’re laughing at Steve’s pathetic ass.”
Marlene gave a half smile and then stood up to leave.
“Marlene, before you go . . . did you get a boy toy to go away with?”
Marlene looked down at me. “I’m going away with my friend Jill. I’m pregnant. A boy toy just didn’t seem right.”
I gave her a nod and put my focus back on the report I was working on before Steve’s appearance. I would have taken a boy toy.
> 10
Friday night.
Marlene’s house.
Time to seal the deal.
I didn’t realize it then, but my life was about to change forever.
I pressed the doorbell and waited for three minutes before Steve opened the door. He was wearing a white V-neck T-shirt that clung to his well-developed torso, and a pair of beige linen slacks. He was barefoot. He said, “Lisette.”
I stared at him. He’d made me wait because he didn’t want to seem anxious. But I knew he was. I could hear the excitement in the tone of his voice that he tried to keep calm and smooth. I could see it in his eyes. He couldn’t wait to taste me again. He was dying to touch me, dying to slide inside of my pussy.
My black pussy.
Forbidden fruit he’d never had before.
He was so far gone. If I told him to get on his knees and crawl around while barking like a dog, he’d do it without hesitation. His eyes and body language told me that. It was amusingly sad how whipped he was.
I said, “Steve.”
He stepped to the side. “Come in.”
I stepped past him into the foyer and felt his eyes on me. I was wearing a striking, barely-there black dress I’d bought from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Exposed, strappyback, butterfly detail; it fell mid-thigh, and had a six-inch slit on the side of my right leg. I bought it the day after he visited my office. Had it sent UPS overnight. Black pumps completed my ensemble. I turned around slowly, giving him an opportunity to admire what he would be emptying his pockets for eighteen years for.
He stared at me, shook his head and said, “Christ, you are a beautiful woman.”
I said, “I’m a beautiful black woman.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Say it.”
“You are a beautiful black woman.”
I gave him a soft, sensual kiss on his cheek. “Good boy.” And then I took a step back and fixed my eyes on him for a moment before dropping my gaze down to his crotch.
I thought about Marlene’s statement again.
Thought about the way his tongue had made me explode.
I became moist with the thought.
I stretched my hand toward his crotch, grabbed his zipper, pulled it down, and let his manhood breathe. I looked down and stared at it. It wasn’t the longest or the thickest I’d ever seen, but it was adequate.
Home Wrecker Page 4
