With This Ring

by Allison Hobbs

  She’d glanced down at the neatly trimmed triangle between Zenith’s thighs. “My tongue game may be a little off, but practice makes perfect, right?” Vangie had hoped she sounded bold and daring when she was actually terrified.

  “I can teach you, if you’re ready to learn.” Zenith’s velvety voice had given Vangie a rush of warmth in her deepest part.

  “I’m willing.” What the hell am I saying? I don’t want to eat pussy; that’s not even who I am. The only pussy she’d ever tasted was her own, and she couldn’t say that it had a delicious flavor because it didn’t. She’d tasted her pussy on Shawn’s tongue after he’d gone down on her, and she’d tasted it on his dick after they’d fucked, and she honestly had never enjoyed the taste. It was acrid. Sort of tangy, giving her tongue a slight sting. It definitely was not sweet like honey or nectar, the way some men declared while they were eating it.

  Vangie was scared to go down on Zenith. She’d gag if the texture of pussy ooze was gooey or gritty. And suppose it turned out to be slimy like snot? That would be even worse, and she’d surely throw up. It occurred to her that maybe they should take it slow. Kiss and grind and rub their clits together until they both climaxed. She wasn’t ready for cunnilingus. Licking a woman’s pussy might be too extreme for a newbie like her.

  Zenith had leaned over, pressing her small tits against Vangie’s C-cups. “I’m gonna kiss you and I want you to pay close attention.”

  “Uh-huh,” Vangie had said tentatively.

  “I want you to tongue my pussy the same way I tongue your mouth.”

  “Right.” Oh, God, I can’t go through with this. What have I gotten myself into?

  The way Zenith had pulled Vangie into her arms was rather confusing. There was the softness of her womanly flesh, yet she’d held Vangie with the strong embrace of a man. Her tongue had glided slowly between Vangie’s lips, snaking and twirling in a way that had caused twinges and sharp sensations between her legs.

  The kiss was crazy. Sending all sorts of currents and jolts zinging through her body. Ready to take the plunge, she was no longer afraid. She’d wanted to completely explore Zenith’s magnificent body and savor the bitter sweetness of her forbidden fruit.

  Moaning softly, Vangie had pulled away from her and wiggled downward until she was beneath her and caged between her firm thighs.

  With pussy hovering over her face, she had taken the opportunity to look at it. It was pretty, much better-looking than Vangie’s vagina. Maybe it looked so well kept, tight, and youthful because it was a pussy that had never given birth. Nor had it been plunged into and bulldozed by numerous, uncaring men.

  Vangie had sniffed at the opening, bracing herself and wondering what she’d do if there was any hint of an unpleasant odor. To her relief and surprise, Zenith’s pussy held a wonderful, aromatic scent. Sort of reminded her of the fragrance, patchouli—in a raw and natural state.

  Vangie had kissed it softly. Like she was kissing Zenith on the mouth, she’d parted the lips ever so slightly, using only the tip of her tongue. Stretching her tongue a little more, she shyly entered the unknown territory. The taste! There were no words to describe it except liquid lust with a hint of peaches, some kind of spice, and a dash of lime. She’d pushed her tongue in deeper, twirling it the way Zenith had demonstrated.

  But doing those tongue tricks were too theatrical, and Vangie had contented herself with licking and slurping, and moaning the whole time. Following Vangie’s rhythm, Zenith had begun to hump against her lips. Vangie had clutched her hips tightly, pulling her closer, stretching her tongue as far as possible as she’d strived to lick the silken lining right out of that tangy-sweet pussy.

  The low rumble in Zenith’s throat and the frantic pelvic juts had told Vangie that her girl was about to explode. And she was ready, with her mouth parted hungrily. Apparently, Zenith was a squirter, the blast of jism that saturated Vangie’s tongue had the power of a man’s ejaculation and the sticky sweetness of a woman’s cum.

  Vangie had held Zenith in place, still lapping at her juices as her body bucked and quaked. She didn’t stop licking and she didn’t release the grip around her hips until she’d sucked out the last drop of silky sweetness.

  Zenith had rolled off her. Still panting, she’d lain on her back. “That was insane. You’re a beast, girl. You sure you never ate pussy before?”

  “Positive,” Vangie had replied with pride.

  “Well, you could have fooled me; I came like a motherfucker.”

  Allowing Frieda to chow down on her pussy had been out of character for Vangie, but eating pussy was totally crazy for someone like Vangie who’d never was bi-curious and had been somewhat repulsed by the idea of two women bumping pussies. If anyone would have told her she would be eager to lick cunt, she would have called them a damn liar. She had gone to the lesbian bar with the intention of picking up a dyke and giving her the exquisite opportunity to lap on her pussy. But Zenith was so fine…so otherworldly sexy, she had to get her tongue all up in it and suck out that big, splashing nut.

  Vangie had felt like she was under some kind of lust spell. She had felt totally uninhibited, ready and willing to try all kinds of new and freakish things.

  While Zenith had lain stretched out, trying to catch her breath, with her head resting on her palms, her titties were poked out and looking particularly alluring with the dark nipples pointed toward the ceiling.

  Vangie’s gaze had settled on Zenith’s perfect breasts, and before she’d fully decided she wanted to kiss and suck them, her hands had already started inching forward. She couldn’t get enough of Zenith. She was feeling all hot and bothered and really needed to do something with her hands.

  Apparently not wanting to be touched, Zenith had brushed her hands aside and Vangie had felt the sting of rejection. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her feelings hurt.

  “Chill for a minute, baby,” Zenith had said. “As soon as my heart rate calms down, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.”

  And she did.

  She had put on a moderately sized, strap-on dick, and had walked across the room and then sat in a chair. Vangie’s mouth was wide open. The way Zenith had glided across the room with her tall, sculptured body was poetry in motion. The shocking contrast of a dick jutting out of that gorgeous feminine body…well, it had taken Vangie’s breath away.

  Zenith had taken a seat in a chair and beckoned Vangie. “Come get on this.” She had pointed to the realistic-looking dick. “Daddy’s gonna make you scream when you cum.”

  Daddy? Hearing a pretty bitch like Zenith referring to herself as Daddy was unexpectedly sexy as shit. Vangie was weak in the knees and had walked slightly gap-legged as she’d made her way across the room toward Daddy’s dick.

  NIVEA

  On her first day back at work, Nivea wore a clingy Givenchy wrap dress, showing her coworkers that motherhood not only agreed with her, it had improved her. Hours spent at the gym had her body nice and fit, and with her fabulous and extensive new wardrobe, she would never be seen rotating clothes, bags, jewelry, or shoes.

  She deliberately parked in a slot in the front of the building to ensure that everyone saw her new Cadillac SRX. Of course, she’d be getting a company car to use during the course of the work day—a Mazda or a Toyota—something economical. She had every intention of letting it be known that she considered it a huge embarrassment to be seen driving around in a hooptie, considering the fact that she was accustomed to the best of everything.

  The first half of the day, Nivea spent so much time showing off pictures of Mackenzie, she hardly got any work done. Right before lunch, she received a call from the receptionist, telling her there was a delivery for her at the front desk.

  The flower arrangement that was waiting for her was so elaborate, with exotic flowers she couldn’t identify. It looked so expensive—like it could have cost a thousand dollars, easily. A small group of people gathered as she opened the card. “It’s from my boyfriend,” Nivea told the onlookers
. “Hoping these flowers brighten your first day back on the old grind,” she read aloud and then put a hand to her chest, demonstrating how very touched she was.

  Eric had never gone out of his way to do anything nice for Nivea. Malcolm was a gem, too good to be true, actually, and she couldn’t help fearing that her love story would not have a happy ending.

  While on the phone with Malcolm, thanking him for the exotic bouquet, her boss poked his head in her office. “There’s a staff meeting in the conference room in five minutes.”

  “Hold on, Malcolm,” she said. “I didn’t get a memo about the meeting,” she said.

  “The secretary probably forgot to add your name to the list. Don’t be late. I have an important announcement,” he said in his usual gruff manner and then strode off toward the conference room.

  “I have to go, Malcolm. These people are starting to irk me already,” she complained.

  “You’ll be all right. You have to expect that it’ll take a little while before you get back into the swing of things.”

  “I know, but I hated my boss coming in here and demanding my presence while I’m on the phone with my honey.”

  “Do you think you can squeeze me in after work or do you have to rush home and relieve your nanny?”

  “I can always make time for you. Luckily, Odette is flexible.”

  “No, that’s okay; I’m being selfish. Go home; your little girl is probably looking out the window, waiting for you.”

  “She’s only a baby, Malcolm. She can’t look out the window, yet,” Nivea said, laughing.

  “Oh, well, I’ve never met her and I don’t have a mental picture of her.”

  “I showed you pictures.”

  “She could have grown since those pictures were taken. Look, as you can tell, I don’t know much about babies.”

  “I didn’t either. I learned as I went along, but thank goodness for my nanny. She’s excellent with babies. Mackenzie loves Odette as much as she loves me.”

  “Speaking of Odette, you talk about her all the time and I feel like I know her, yet I haven’t met her or little Mackenzie.”

  “I know. I was trying to keep my home life separate. You know, for the time being. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, I understand. Can’t blame you for not wanting to expose your kid to every guy who comes down the pike.”

  “It’s not that…” Nivea fell silent. “It’s her father. He, uh…”

  “Seriously, you don’t have to explain. I understand.”

  She wanted more than anything to introduce Malcolm to Mackenzie and Odette, but with Dr. Sandburg hovering around and threatening to exercise his parental rights, it didn’t seem like a good idea to at the moment.

  “Listen, I better get to the staff meeting. I’ll give you a call when it’s over.”

  Nivea and Malcolm made kissing sounds in the phone and then hung up. How had she snagged such a winner? Malcolm was more than she’d ever dreamed herself worthy of. She was cursed with the dark-skinned-woman complex. A complex that was probably caused by her mother’s obvious favoritism toward her lighter-complexioned daughter, Courtney.

  A high-achiever like Nivea should have never settled for a bum like Eric. And now that she had Malcolm, she intended to work on herself. She wondered if her compulsive spending had anything to do with her own “Mommy” issues. This was the kind of conversation she should have with Harlow. Harlow had a bad childhood, although she never talked about it. But she did mention that she was seeing a therapist regularly. Maybe Nivea needed to, also. She cherished the relationship that she and Malcolm were building and didn’t want to mess things up with the baggage she was carrying.

  First chance she got, she was going to give Harlow a call and get her opinion on therapy.

  The work day had taken a toll. Not accustomed to putting in eight-hour days, Nivea left the office, bone-tired. Her boss expected her to go back out in the field by the end of the week, and that was going to really wear her out. As much as she wanted to spend time with Malcolm, she had to ask him for a rain check. All she wanted to do this evening was go home, get out of her heels, and relax in a warm tub.

  Odette and Mackenzie greeted her at the door. Mackenzie was dressed in a tangerine and white romper and Odette had gathered up Mackenzie’s thin strands of hair and snapped an orange barrette onto them.

  Nivea took her from Odette’s arms. “Look at you, Lil’ Mama. You’re finally getting some hair on your head. It’s about time, Kenzie-Ken,” Nivea cooed. Mackenzie smiled and tugged on Nivea’s earrings.

  “If you don’t need me, I’ll be leaving in a few,” Odette said. “I fixed oxtails, rice, and collards. Your plate is in the microwave.”

  “Thank you, Odette. That’s so sweet of you, but you really didn’t have to.”

  “No trouble at all. I love cooking. When Miss Mackenzie is old enough, I’m going to teach her how to cook with a Caribbean flair.” Odette turned toward the closet to get the drab canvas bag she always carried.

  “Oh, by the way, a letter came for you that required a signature. I signed for it; it’s in the kitchen with the rest of your mail.”

  Registered mail was never good news. Brows bunched together, Nivea carried Mackenzie to the kitchen. The letter was from the law office of Andrew Brackman. Nivea’s first impulse was to throw the letter in the trash.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” Odette called but Nivea didn’t respond. She was caught up in the words written by Rachel Sandburg’s lawyer.

  Dear Ms. Westcott:

  I’m writing to inform you that due to the pending divorce of Rachel and Bertram Sandburg, my client, Mrs. Sandburg, will no longer be responsible for any amounts of child support that she willingly agreed while married to Bertram Sandburg, the biological father of Mackenzie Westcott.

  Please have your attorney contact Bertram Sandburg directly if you have any questions regarding this matter.

  Sincerely,

  Andrew Brackman, Esquire

  Nivea wanted to scream. She wanted to do serious bodily harm to Rachel, her lawyer, and Dr. Sandburg. They couldn’t get away with this. She had signed documents that assured her and her daughter of a cushy life for at least eighteen years. Nivea didn’t know who Rachel thought she was dealing with, but she hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck, as Denise Westcott would say. Nivea would get a top-notch attorney of her own. Married to the doctor or not, Rachel would be forced to honor their agreement.

  Later that evening, after she put Mackenzie to bed, Nivea was still so agitated over the attorney’s letter, she went on a wild, online shopping spree that came to a whopping $12,000. And she didn’t shop for only herself and Mackenzie, she bought Odette a new handbag and she bought Malcolm a $3,000 watch.

  VANGIE

  Her new family lawyer, Felder Ross, was a distinguished-looking black man who appeared to be in his mid-forties. He knew his stuff and seemed genuinely appalled that Shawn and Jojina were trying to steal her son.

  “Temporary custody is exactly that…temporary. From what you’ve told me, there’s no evidence that you’ve been an unfit mother. So, the first thing I’m going to do is file a motion for you to regain your parental rights.”

  Vangie nodded briskly.

  “If things go our way, your son will be back home in a week, maybe sooner.”

  “Really? Oh, my God, really? Yuri’s gonna be home in a week?”

  “I don’t see any reason why the judge would prevent him from being with his mother.”

  “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear you say that. When I found out my son’s father had the audacity to enroll my son in a school in his neighborhood—a school I’ve never even heard of—I went ballistic.”

  Mr. Ross looked appropriately appalled. “Well, he’s going to have to disenroll him.”

  Vangie nodded in agreement. Mr. Ross wasn’t playing any games, and she liked his style.

  “I realize you’ve been through a lot, but you should try to relax dur
ing the next few days. I can assure you I’m going to get a new court date as soon as possible.”

  “Okay, but suppose Shawn wins. Suppose the judge thinks I’m an unfit parent because I assaulted his fiancée.”

  “That incident has nothing to do with your parenting skills.”

  “You’re right.” Vangie exhaled in a long stream, her shoulders relaxing.

  “I usually don’t like to make predictions, but I feel comfortable saying that I believe your child will be returned to you—the custodial parent. It’s very rare for a judge to take a child from its mother!”

  Vangie wanted to believe that everything was going to be all right, but that damned Jojina had so many tricks up her ghetto sleeves, Vangie wouldn’t fully relax until Yuri was safe and sound back home.

  “You’re not doing yourself any favors by constantly worrying. I’ve got this,” he said, smiling as he slipped into street vernacular. Vangie smiled, too.

  “I’ll file a motion and all you have to do is relax, get out of the house, and live a little.”

  The attorney’s voice had a soothing tone and his confidence definitely had a calming effect. “Okay, I’ll try to stop worrying.”

  “Good.” He stood up, indicating that their meeting was over. “I’ll be in touch with you in a day or so.”

  “Okay.” She’d only been in his office for about forty minutes, and it sort of felt like she was getting the bum’s rush. For all the money she’d paid him, she had expected them to put their heads together and strategize for a couple of hours. But on the bright side, Mr. Ross had impressed her with his competence and he needed to get busy and start filing documents on her behalf. She rose from her seat and shook his hand. “I’m depending on you, Mr. Ross.”

  She’d taken a full day off from work, and now didn’t know how to fill the extra hours. Go to another bar? No, it was too early in the day for that. Besides, she’d decided not to go to any more lesbian bars. At least not for a while. Zenith had fucked her brains out last night and she was fully satisfied. Her sex drive had never been high, and she probably wouldn’t need any more sexual release for at least another month.