Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  He rolled off her, giving her leg some relief. They both lay there, breathing heavily and looking up at the ceiling.

  “Thanks for that,” London said between breaths.

  “Happy to be of service,” he replied.

  They both waited a beat before bursting out laughing.

  London lifted herself from the bed seeking out her underwear. It had been quick and fun and…completely worth it.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, lifting himself to his elbows. His well-used, condom-covered dick lay limply on top of his open fly. Despite the impressive sight of his upper torso, it was a comical display and she suppressed a smile.

  “Looking for my panties,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked, a look of total confusion coming over his face.

  She looked down at him. “I assume that’s why we left our clothes on.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh London,” he said, “it really has been a while. Let me guess, missionary, clothes off, lights out, maybe even scheduled before hand?”

  She put her hands on her hips, and frowned.

  “Oh, stop,” he scolded, glimpsing her reaction. He rose up of the bed as he pulled the condom off and stuffed himself back inside. “Do you honestly think I’m letting you get out of here that soon? We’ve just started having fun. You can at least buy a guy dinner, since you felt free to use my body so wantonly.”

  “What?” she laughed, the look on her face making it very clear that he had some nerve.

  He leaned against the wall near her, arms crossed over his bare chest. The way his shoulder and arm muscles flexed was making it very hard for her to concentrate.

  “Hmm,” he mused. “If the sex was that bad then I guess I owe you dinner.”

  “Michael,” she said patiently, “the sex was…great,” she smiled. “But I have to work in the morning and—“

  “—and you’ll make it to work on time, I promise. But, hey, we’ve got the room all night and I’m hungry,” he said eyeing her body up and down. “I’d also like some food,” he added with another one of these impish grins.

  “Let’s order up some room service, get you out of those clothes, take a nice hot shower, and spend the night together.”

  It was so tempting. She took another look at those arms, imagining lying with them wrapped around her all night.

  “Okay,” she sighed, “But can I at least take off these shoes now.”

  “Not on your life,” he grinned.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  They were sitting at the small table eating the dinner that room service had just delivered. The two of them had taken a shower before ordering and it had been…spectacular. Michael had finally seen what she looked like under all those clothes. The alluring glimpses of her body he had seen in that blue dress she wore the first time he had set eyes on her were nothing compared to the unadorned goddess that stood next to him in the shower. Exploring it with soapy hands had been even more enjoyable.

  The silky smooth brown skin of her shoulders glowed as she sat there in nothing but a towel across from him. He had an identical towel around his waist, and the surreptitious glimpses he’d seen her cast over various parts of his body let him know she was probably reminiscing as well.

  He saw a change come over her face as though remembering something. “So what did my sister say exactly?” she asked.

  Michael laughed before answering. “Don’t get mad. Little sis’ was just looking out for you. It was actually kind of sweet. It must be nice having someone look out for your,” he paused and gave a sly grin, “interests, like that. So are you two close?”

  “I suppose, as close as could be expected,” she confided. “She’s always been sort of an outsider in the family. Our parents’ happy little surprise,” she finished chirpily.

  “So that explains the age difference,” he said.

  London nodded. “My dad is a plotter and planner. Cleveland, my brother. Then me. That was supposed to be it. The perfect little nuclear family. He was busy grooming the two of us when Brooklyn made an appearance. Growing up, when she wasn’t being doted on as the baby of the family, she was being, frankly, somewhat ignored.

  “In some ways I envied her. She didn’t have all these expectations placed upon her. She didn’t have to go to Spelman, then Howard, then daddy’s law firm. She could go to Pratt and major in digital arts or whatever. On the other hand, she and my father can’t even talk to one another, unless it’s her pushing his buttons or him criticizing her. I guess I just feel the need to look out for her.”

  “That’s nice of you,” he said with a smile that bordered on sadness.

  She gave a sympathetic smile. “No such brotherly love between you and Alex?”

  He gave a thoughtful look. “It was….strained early on, as you can imagine. I was 10 when my father had the affair with his mother.”

  London’s face softened as she listened to him.

  “I resented him for a long time. Eventually he was old enough to feel it. At some point I realized it wasn’t his fault. Besides, he had it rougher than I did. It has to wear on you, being America’s most famous love child. Then our glorious father did the same thing to him that he’d done to me, hence the third Wright, who also seems to be a bit of a head case.” He sighed with a laugh. “Don’t even get me started on the latest one.

  “Alex certainly acted out, partying, drinking, drugs, pretty much checking every box for celebrity tabloid fodder.”

  He saw her eyes darken with concern.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “he’s moved on from those days. Ironically enough, I think I was the only one to break through to him. By the time he was 22 I sat him down and had a talk with him about what he wanted to do with his life.”

  “What exactly does he do?” London asked. “He’s always off jet-setting around the world.”

  “The way he explains it, he makes ‘fun profitable,’” he shrugged. “I have no idea what that means but apparently the first club he helped, purely on commission, he increased their profits by 200%. Can’t argue with that, especially when I found out what that commission was.”

  She nodded but the concerned look didn’t leave her face.

  “Hey, he’s a good guy,” he assured her.

  One side of her mouth came up and she nodded. “I suppose I shouldn’t meddle. Look where it’s gotten me!” she laughed.

  “Am I that bad?” he countered, with his own laugh.

  “No, you’re perfect,” she said, then quickly got embarrassed.

  He just laughed again. Then he looked at the swell of her breasts above the knotted towel and the long brown legs peeking from beneath the table.

  The feeling is quite mutual Ms. Jefferson.

  They were spooning in bed, naked body against naked body. It was something he hadn’t done with a woman in a very long time. Getting too close, especially this early on, was always a dangerous proposition. Somehow he felt it was perfectly safe with London.

  Just a bit of rebound fun after all.

  Her body curved into his perfectly, like the interlocking parts of two puzzle pieces. Michael’s mind lingered on every part of her body that was intertwined with his. The delicate foot that rested lightly on top of his larger one. The long, smooth legs that slinked between his. The round ass pressed right into his groin that was…well it wouldn’t do to dwell on that, especially since she was sound asleep in his arms. He compelled the blood rushing to his cock to make a detour. Instead, he moved on to the back pressed against chest. His torso was much larger and he practically enveloped her as his arm rested around the front of her.

  Now that she was asleep, he slid the hand back down to the soft part of her stomach that she’d been so embarrassed about earlier, when she slapped his hand away. He squeezed lightly, enjoying the feel of actual flesh in his hands. The kind of women he was used to made it a point to get rid of any ounce of something that a man could actually hold on to. He had become so accustome
d to hardened abs and “buns of steel”, or worse, nothing but skin against bone, that this was a refreshing change.

  Not that London didn’t have a perfect figure in her own right. In clothes she looked practically slim. It was just nice to feel womanly curves and softness for once. He pressed closer, enjoying the feel of her hair nuzzled underneath his chin.

  In a few hours it would all be over. She’d head uptown, he’d head downtown. The Roosevelt Hotel would be a fond little memory to linger on during a coffee break, or day dream about during a meeting.

  He couldn’t let it end like this. He was having way too much fun.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  London’s eyes blinked open. She felt the hairs of Michael’s chest and legs tickling the back of her body. His hand was securely over her little pooch of a tummy almost grabbing it. She placed her hand over his and moved it up. That was better. Clayton used to tease her about it, grabbing it and wondering aloud why it didn’t match the rest of her. It wasn’t even that pronounced! Only when she sat down, or bent over or…curved into a spoon against another man.

  Michael had grabbed it in a way that was playful, but adoring. He’d even purred in her ear that it was “nice.” She put her hand back over his and slid it down again.

  She smiled and shifted her head to look at the clock: 3 a.m. In a few hours she’d have to get up and catch a cab back to her place to get dressed and make it into work by 9. Right now she wanted to stay just like this.

  Eventually, her bladder had other ideas

  She slowly disentangled herself from Michael and scooted to the side of the bed. It was still pitch black and she couldn’t see the shirt that her feet got tangled in, nearly causing her to trip and fall. She picked up the offending piece of clothing and realized it was Michael’s shirt. She brought it up to her nose, smothering herself in the scent that she had just left. As she made her way to the bathroom she slipped it on. The tails hung past her ass and the sleeves reached her finger tips.

  When she came back, she carefully made her way around to her side of the bed. She knelt on the mattress looking at his dark outline. She decided to take a chance and turn on the light on the nightstand. She wanted to see him.

  The light snapped on in a soft glow and she waited to see if he would wake up. He lay sleeping peacefully. The arm that had been draped across her was now lying on the mattress. The covers reached up to his waist and she couldn’t resist pushing them down ever so slightly.

  London bit her bottom lip as the comforter slid over his hips, revealing his penis. It was semi-soft with the mildest morning stiffness and she sighed moving in closer to look at it. One finger reached out to trace the veins along the shaft. She opened her hand to lightly circle it, noting the fact that the tips of her fingers barely met. That would explain last night’s orgasm, she thought, smiling to herself.

  “Mmm, what a pleasant way to wake up,” his scratchy voice said above her.

  She flinched and accidentally tugged the cock that her hand was circled around.

  “Ohh,” he growled in pain. “Not so good,” he winced.

  “I’m sorry,” she yelped letting go. “You frightened me,” she chided.

  He rolled over onto his back and looked up at her, squinting with one eye open. “Well I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He lay back on the pillow, hands behind his head, an inviting smile on his face—and his penis growing more erect. “Loving that shirt on you, by the way.”

  She stared down at him with a smile, which grew into an impish grin as an idea came to her. She lifted herself up to straddle his knees above the covers. Her eyes looked at him seductively as she bent over his erection. She saw the smile on his face grow as he realized what she was about to do.

  “Mmm,” he murmured, “I could wake up to this every day.”

  She flicked out her tongue and ran it lightly over the ridge on the bottom side of his penis, never once taking her eyes off of him. She circled the rim of his engorged head, working her way around and around to the slit on top.

  “You like that?” she purred.

  All he could do was nod. She saw his breath get heavier as she took the head in her mouth, gently sucking while her eyes watched his facial features harden with fervor. His dark blue eyes stared back at her fiercely.

  She brought her hands up to circle him, sliding them down with a firm grip. His erection now conveniently stood straight up, allowing her to easily bring her head down to take him in. She tasted the salty mix of pre-cum and the sweat of his body. She felt the thick veins and hard length of him under her hands and tongue. Her throat opened up to take in as much of him as possible, wanting to give him the same pleasure he’d given her last night.

  His thighs stiffened under her as she brought her head lower, taking more and more, wanting it all. She let her hands accomplish what her mouth couldn’t, gripping, stroking, occasionally reaching down to fondle his balls.

  Everything about his taste and scent was turning her on. She listened with pleasure to his heavy breaths and occasional groans. She continued on, quickening her pace and working up a rhythm. Her eyes rolled up to find his head thrown back, the hands behind him gripping the pillow. She continued on, her mouth sucking, her hands stroking, her throat opening.

  “I’m coming, London,” he warned her.

  She just murmured her consent as she continued to watch him. A loud groan escaped his lips, as his body stiffened even more. One second later the result of his climax erupted down her throat and she swallowed greedily. She kept her lips wrapped around him until he was completely limp.

  London pulled herself up to look at the aftermath, while his eyes were still closed. He was so enjoyable to look at, especially with that silly smile on his face, put there by her. With his arms still stretched above him, his large, muscular body became even more taut. She reached out to tickle her fingers through his chest hair, which tapered to a fine line across his abs, before broadening out again just above his pubic area. Everything about him screamed: Man.

  “I’m beginning to feel objectified here,” he said, opening one eye.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be such an attractive object,” she responded with a smile.

  “Hmm, speaking of attractive objects, you in that shirt is doing something to me.”

  “I was about to take it off, but since you like it so much….”

  “Whoa,” he cautioned, “Let’s go back to that plan A of yours.”

  She stared down at him with a questioning smirk before she rapidly began to unbutton it.

  “Slower,” he coaxed.

  She licked her lips and slowly made her way down the shirt, undoing each button with deliberate patience. Michael stared up at her, hands still behind his head while he watched the show. Once she had completely unbuttoned herself, she sat there on top of him waiting.

  “Now pull it apart slowly.”

  She did as instructed, pulling it apart inch by inch until the sliver of skin peeking between the sides expanded to reveal her breasts and stomach completely. She chewed her bottom lip as she sat there watching him watch her.

  “You’re so perfect,” he sighed reaching up to cup one of her breasts. “Just one small flaw.”

  She frowned, immediately looking down at her body and noting the small bulge where her stomach wasn’t exactly flat. While she was contemplating this, she felt his strong hands reach up, grab her by the arms and swing her around until she was lying on the bed next to him.

  “What are you doing?” she yelped with surprise.

  “You were in the wrong position,” he said with a wink and a grin as he sat up on one elbow looking at the still fully exposed torso. “It’s only fair that I get my turn with you.”

  He traced a finger around one nipple, causing it to harden in response. The next moment his head was bent over it, his mouth covering the dark brown tip while his finger worked its way down to her navel.

  London sighed as she felt the swirl of his tongue teasing her nipple.
She brought a hand up to cup the back of his head, enjoying the feel of her fingers sinking into the thick hair. It stayed there as his head moved to kiss the trail that his finger was making across her chest and stomach. She laughed when his tongue darted into her bellybutton, tickling her.

  “I love the way your body feels when you laugh,” he murmured against her jiggling belly. He blew a raspberry to make her laugh even harder. She did, but not without a slap against his head and a shout of protest.

  “Don’t, or I’m getting right back under these covers!” she screamed.

  He put his hands up in surrender, but kept his lips against her stomach. He had to shift position as his fingers worked their way down to her thighs. The journey continued along, his kisses following his fingertips until he was all the way down to her feet. After kissing the top part, he took her big toe into his mouth making her laugh again.

  It was fun, and silly, and incredibly hot. In some respects Michael had been right yesterday when he surmised about her sex life with Clayton, at least in the past few years, where it had become routine and predictable. He’d certainly never taken her big toe in his mouth.

  She forgot all about her ex as Michael worked his way back up her legs, slowly spreading them open as he positioned himself between them. The evidence of her excitement was quite apparent as the cool air of the room hit the wetness in between. As he slid down for a repeat of last night, she placed her hand back onto his head, bracing herself.

  It was indeed a pleasant way to wake up.

  At some point they realized they needed to actually get out of bed.

  “We could always call in sick. Check-out isn’t until noon,” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

  London gave him an indulgent smile as she zipped her skirt up. “Any other week I’d probably take you up on it, but my dad’s way too excited about this Dion Davis run for mayor. I mean, he’s done some good for Harlem, but I just wonder if he’s appropriate for mayor of New York. Frankly, I think he just enjoys the status.”