“Yeah, time to put that dick deep into my pussy, mother-fucker,” you inform him telepathically as you picture his throbbing stick knocking at your G-spot’s door. The combination of contraction and vibration and nasty thoughts has you at orgasm’s threshold, but you do not want to come yet. Not without him. Not again.
You disengage the bullet and pull it, awash in pussy juice, from your panties. By the time the lift deposits you on his floor you are wet and waaay beyond ready to fuck the shit out of this sexy-ass man. You announce your arrival to the receptionist, and stand as she calls his office, all the while wondering if she can smell the scent of an aroused kitty.
“He says go right in,” she announces.
You slowly walk the length of the corridor, anticipation guiding each deliberate step. You feel good, invincible and sexy as hell as you lightly tap on his door. The temptation is over. Redemption is at hand.
“Come in,” he says, too busy standing up and buttoning his suit jacket to really notice who has just appeared across his threshold.
“Hi,” you say softly, catching his gaze and locking focus. He’s surprised. It is obvious by the momentary shock in his eyes. But pleased. The twitch in the corner of his mouth pulling his lips upright is proof.
“Have a seat. May I take your coat?”
Please do continue…
LEAD ME INTO TEMPTATION…
STREET LOVE
I couldn’t leave without you,” the words drifting through the darkness inform me.
I pull my jacket tight across my chest, protection not only from the cool night air, but the chill that her voice sends through me. I step farther onto the desolate sidewalk and turn toward the sound of her voice.
“I’m here, waiting for you,” she continues, providing the verbal bread crumbs I need to follow and find her. “This way.”
Like a beacon, a white rose appears, jutting from the side of the building. I continue to walk, hearing the clack of high heels blend with the beat of my heart as I progress. I make the turn at the edge of the edifice and gingerly reach for the bloom. Instead of a flower, my hand meets flesh as she grabs and pulls me to her. In the darkness, I cannot make out her face, but the smells, sounds and feel of her assure me this is Cameron. She gives me the rose before clasping both of her hands in mine and gently but forcefully pinning them to her side.
The urge to protest melts under the heat of her kiss. Cameron’s mouth burns into mine without polite pretense, and unlike earlier when our lips met in quiet discovery, this kiss is fueled by an overwhelming passion demanding to be satisfied. With a hunger indicative of starvation, Cameron begins making a feast of my eyes, nose, cheeks and earlobes before once again devouring my mouth. Her tongue penetrates my lips, at first a relaxed tool of sensual seduction and then becoming stiff and hard, thrusting in and out in a sexy demonstration of things to come.
My breath becomes short and labored as she presses her body against mine. She can feel the hardness on my thigh and it excites her. Words have no place in this conversation, and feeling flushed and heated by the blood rushing through my body and pooling between my legs, I express myself with a low whimper that caresses her ears and heightens her desire.
Cameron releases my hands in order to slide the cashmere jacket from my shoulders. It is dropped to the pavement without concern. Her lips graze my ear and counting aloud as each one falls open, I undo the six oversized, white buttons running down her blouse and into the top of her skirt. Once they’re unfastened, I release the hem from her waistband and peel away the shirt, sending it fluttering to the ground to join her jacket.
“You are beautiful,” I murmur in admiration as I take in her copious breasts covered in a sheer white bra edged in taupe lace. It is a look that is as innocent as it is crazy sexy.
Cameron reaches down, takes the rose from my hand, and holds it to my nose. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling its subtle and seductive aroma. It smells like her—erotically innocent. I respond with an open mouth exhale, prompting Cameron to drag the bloom slowly down my mouth, causing the delicately curled petals to catch and tickle my swollen lips.
I take possession of this love bloom and continue the seductive journey down her neck and across her shoulders, sweeping the velvety softness of the petals across the full tops of her breasts, bringing forth another delicious moan. Their silkiness teases every nerve ending, causing her entire body to tingle in reaction. Enjoying her pleasure, I brush the rose against the sheer whisper of material separating her skin from my touch. Her nipples stiffen in response, a reaction I no longer have the fortitude to ignore.
My mouth impatiently retraces the rose-petal trail across her bosom. I latch on, bathing her nipples in warm saliva, my actions simultaneously drenching both her bra and panties. With one hand, I reach up and into her brassiere, releasing her breasts as I continue my erotic tongue and hand massage. I nibble and knead with practiced expertise until Cameron announces her escalating excitement with a primitive groan. Encouraged, I linger, pushing her breasts together and rolling both nipples gently between my teeth until Cam arches her back and presses herself against me, trying to find relief for the intensifying ache in her pelvis.
Not yet ready to surrender to my craving, I pull back and petal by petal, begin to dismantle the blossom. A shower of white floral confetti rains down on us, sticking to her body and coating the ground below. I pluck a petal from her hair and use it to tease her naked nipples to attention. Cameron feels the cool gossamer touch and immediately the bud between her legs begins to contract. She exhales loudly, a reaction to the exquisite pain of unsatisfied arousal.
Unable to contain herself, Cameron pushes me against the brick wall. Logic-blocking waves of desire keep me from protesting. All inhibition is lost. Neither she nor I care who sees us—the girl, the photographers, the public—nothing matters but having each other. Right here. And right now.
I pull up her skirt, only to find the cure for my lust obstructed by the same delicate material that had covered her breasts. I release her panties from her hips, causing them to slide down her legs, stopping at her ankles. Cam spreads her legs wider as I slide my hand between them, coaxing her lower lips apart with my fingers. Lifting the other hand to her head, I lift a rose petal from her hair and swipe her milky desire before using it to massage her bud, rubbing both and releasing into the air the sweet-scented essence of rose mixed with her sex.
“Fuck me. Please. Now,” she demands.
I smile. She is impatient to have me. I like my women hot and hungry. They complement my patience and endurance. The combination guarantees lots of long fucking sessions.
I push two fingers high inside her, twisting like a corkscrew, trying to hit every nerve I can find. I pull out and twist my hand before reentering her and pushing wrist-deep, searching for her G-spot. My hand is too small, so once again I exit, wiping pussy juice across her naked tits and then putting what’s left on my thirsty tongue. I take from my trouser pocket the hard shaft she desires, shoving it into her pussy and thrusting it back and forth with building speed. My lips reclaim her hard nipples and I suck hard, determined to pull from her an orgasm that will have her seeing stars beyond the Milky Way.
“Come for me, bitch.” I demand. “Come for me hard and then you are going to drop to your knees and eat my pussy like it is the last thing on earth you will ever taste.”
Hearing me, Cameron explodes into orgasm, her screams echoing through the streets. I pull the dildo from her and suck her sweet juices as I fall back against the bricks, ready for release, and wait for her to recover. Cameron quickly unbuttons my shirt to find me braless with nipples erect. She rubs her tits against mine as she unzips my pants and pushes them down to my ankles. Her tongue leaves a trail of saliva from my breasts to my waiting mound. Cam latches on to the engorged button, perfectly applying both fierce and fragile suction. Her tongue laps around and around my nib as her fingers vibrate up and down inside my hole. I hear the sounds of the city around me, b
ut they cannot distract me from my mission.
“I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re out fucking some other bitch. Do I need to put a leash on you?” Sasha asks, suddenly appearing to grab Cam’s arm and pull her away from me. I am left feeling unnerved and totally unsatisfied.
“Cameron!” I call out as she quickly gathers her belongings and scurries away, my nectar still dripping down her chin. She stops and turns, her face a billboard of uncertainty.
Please do continue…
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
THE BIG BAMBOO is not an author but rather the star of this best-selling author’s private Jamaican fantasy. He’s brought to life on these pages to tempt, tantalize and torture you the way he’s been happily tormenting her dreams for months. Says the Big Bamboo, “The hardest thing about writing erotica is tearing myself away from the research to actually write the stuff down.”
TEDDY BELL is a poet, author and artist whose works have been featured in various media outlets such as City Lights, Mc-Cue Systems, Outwardlink.net, Keen.com, Mark Style Productions and jackieyoungwrites.com. His current poetry book, To C~ From G, is available on Amazon.com. His erotic point of view? “I think erotica should be fearless, free and freaky.”
BLACK lives in the Maryland area and began her writing career in the nineties. This is her first, but definitely not last foray into erotica. BLACK says, “The best thing about writing erotica is that it’s so freeing. It’s sexy to be so honest.”
ELLE is the erotic alter ego of one grown and sexy best-selling author. She is currently working on the ELLE Series, an elegant, luxuriously lustful erotic collection of three sultry adventures, written for women of a certain age who are looking for a private and oh, so pleasurable, I’ve-got-a-secret reading experience. Elle confesses that “I’ve never had a one-night stand, but I’d love to try it.”
CYNNAMON FOSTER is the alter ego of Nina Foxx, author of five novels including Getting Buck Wild, Marry Up, Just Short of Crazy and No Woman Needs a Husband Seven Days a Week (Avon). She lives in Southern California with her main personality and believes that “erotica should be sensual even when there’s no sex happening.”
ELISE GOWER is a former television executive and first-time fiction writer who has written in other genres for more than twenty-five years. Clearly, she appreciates a good fantasy… Elise says her least favorite nasty word is “snatch” because “I never want mine ‘snatched’!”
SASHA JAMES is a prolific writer whose novels include: One + One = Three and Two + One = Ecstasy. She’s also the alter ego of a noted novelist known for her erotica. Previously, she has penned four steamy novels and is hard at work on the fifth. Sasha divides her time between New York and Chicago. Says Sasha, “The best thing about writing erotica is introducing readers to alternative lifestyles.”
TOI JAMES is an alumna of the Guy A. Hanks-Marvin Miller Screenwriting Program (aka The Cosby Program). She has written several screenplays, poems and short stories. She received her doctorate in Communication Studies but has picked up her pen again to pursue her first love—writing stories. According to Toi, the best part of writing erotica is “the residual sex.”
ERIKA J. KENDRICK is the author of Confessions of a Rookie Cheerleader and Appetite: A Novel. A former Chicago Bulls cheerleader, she is the thought leader behind PUBLISHING PREP, a literary curriculum that assists aspiring authors. Erika believes that “the sexiest part of a woman is her feminine confidence.” Find out more at erikakendrick.com.
NOORI LUN was born in the San Francisco Bay Area and is an accomplished television and creative writer. She is hard at work on several projects for television and is finishing up her first novel. When it’s a choice between top or bottom, Noori says, “On top I feel more powerful.”
VELVET is the creator of The Black Door series, traveling the globe for inspiration. Her Black Door titles include: The Black Door, Seduction, Betrayal and Naughty (St. Martin’s Griffin). Velvet admits that, “I’ve never joined the mile-high club but would love to try freaking in the sky!” More at theblackdoor.tv.
ABOUT THE EDITOR
LORI BRYANT-WOOLRIDGE is an Emmy Award-winning writer and the author of three Essence best-selling novels, including Weapons of Mass Seduction, Hitts & Mrs., and Read Between the Lies. She has contributed to several award-winning anthologies including A Celebration of African-American Fiction, Brown Sugar #3: Opposites Attract and Best Black Women’s Erotica. Lori is also a sensuality coach and founder of Stiletto U, a virtual university that advocates healthy, sensuous lifestyles. She also conducts sensuality classes and workshops around the country, including Sexitude, a sensual workout that combines mind and movement. She and her work have been featured in local and national media, including in the Seattle Times, Detroit Free Press, New York Daily News, Essence, Working Mother and Psychologies (UK) and has appeared on numerous radio and television shows across the country. Find out more at loribryantwoolridge.com or visit CantHelpTheWayThatIFeel.blogspot.com.
Copyright © 2010 by Lori Bryant-Woolridge.
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, or television reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States by Cleis Press Inc.,
2246 Sixth St., Berkeley, California 94710.
eISBN : 978-1-573-44541-2
Can't Help the Way That I Feel Page 20
