The Crimson Z

by Robert Cloud, Lee Rush, Richard Savage

  She watched as they shed their jeans. He grasped her waist and spun her around, tugging her against his body. Every movement was predatory and controlled.

  Anne's pulse accelerated when his hands cupped the woman's breasts from behind. Hers swelled in response to the seductive stroke. Impatiently, she loosened the belt of her robe then pulled it open. Mimicking his movements, her hands curled under her breasts, her thumbs circling the dusty rose areolas. Needy buds pinched under the light touch. Her breasts swelled, reacting to the gentle friction of skin against skin.

  When his hands drifted lower, moisture seeped between swollen labial lips, and the barrel of her vagina clenched. Her robe fell to her elbows, but she didn't care. She continued to imitate his hands’ erotic safari, skimming over her abdomen, then raking through her pubic curls until he swept the woman off her feet and carried her away from the window.

  "Damn!” The word burst through her lips at the bite of disappointment and frustration she experienced as they disappeared from view.

  "What the hell?” Anne shook her head then glanced down at her near naked body. She couldn't believe the view. She was sprawled across the overstuffed pillows of the window seat, her legs parted with her hand cupping her pubis. She'd never done anything like this. It almost felt as if another person had possessed her.

  "Enough!” she muttered as she bolted out of the window seat and started toward her bed. “I might not be stellar in bed, but I'm not this desperate.” Anne shook off her rob and pulled a tee shirt and boxers from a dresser drawer. She slipped between the cool, cotton sheets, and as she slipped into slumber, wondered what had happened to her tonight.

  "We've only just begun, Anne,” the spirit standing beside the bed thought with smug satisfaction. Virginia Marshall watched the sleeping woman, cursing the selfish lover who had fuelled her inhibitions and self-doubt.

  After almost thirty years of chasing people out of her beloved home, something about Anne's curious blend of innocence and insecurity had touched her. Instead of ejecting her, as she had all the other people who had toured her home, she'd wanted to help her sample all the marvelous delights sex could provide. Virginia grinned or would have if she'd had a body. This could be a fun as well as a mutually beneficial relationship. She could help Anne explore a sensual new world, and Anne could help her find the person who murdered her.

  "Now, let's begin..."

  * * * *

  Anne woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. Vaginal muscles rippled around her finger in a heated and moist climax. With a soft exclamation of disbelief, she yanked her hand from between her legs.

  "I can't believe this.” Anne tossed aside the bedcovers then jumped out of bed. She looked down at her half-naked body, her boxers a silky pile on the carpet beside her bed.

  "That's what I get for being a peeping Tom,” she muttered as she pulled on panties and jeans. She avoided looking toward the window and went straight downstairs.

  "Coffee,” she said as she crossed the kitchen. “The stronger the better."

  With shaky hands, she scooped coffee into the paper-lined hopper then filled the reservoir with water. She watched the first drops of dark elixir drop, then bounce across the bottom of the glass carafe, hissing in protest. With a sharp sigh, she folded her arms across her chest, belatedly realizing that she had forgotten to put on a bra. She looked down at the soft curves of her breasts. Why not just be relaxed and comfortable for the day, an impish voice in her head suggested.

  "Why not?” Anne echoed the thought aloud.

  She pulled a mug from the cupboard then filled it with the rich brew mellowing it with healthy helpings of cream and sugar. Taking a sip of the steaming beverage, she strolled into her new workshop. Boxes containing shelves, supplies and a table were piled in one corner. Today, she would focus on setting up her workspace and savoring ownership of her new home.

  Anne spent the morning assembling shelves and arranging supplies until the doorbell chiming stopped her. She glanced at her watch. “One o'clock."

  That seemed early for Deb, but then, she seemed pretty determined to take her out for a hot night on the town. She stood up, brushed her palms over the seat of her pants and headed for the door.

  "Ready to clean?” she said as she pulled opened the door, then gasped.

  "Sure.” Sam, her neighbor, stood on the veranda. His brilliantly white tee shirt clung to sculpted pecs, and snug blue jeans molded to muscular thighs. “If you'd like me to.” Deep dimples bracketed a brilliant smile.

  "I'm sorry ... I thought you were someone else.” Anne flushed. Shoot me now she silently begged any guardian angel within earshot. Why did she turn into such a babbling idiot when guys were around?

  He grinned then held up a brown bag with the logo of her favorite coffee shop. “I brought some donuts over to welcome you to the neighborhood, but if you need help cleaning, I can do that too."

  "Not really, Deb, my friend, said she'd be over later to help.” Of its own accord, her hand pushed the door open wider. “I was just about to take a break from unpacking. Would you like to join me for a coffee to go with those donuts?"

  Anne blinked in surprise at the ease with which the invitation slid through her lips. For a few seconds, it was as if her words had taken on a life of their own.

  "Love some.” His grin, brilliant white, sparked a knee jerk reaction of feminine appreciation. Perhaps she wasn't as bedroom deficient as Mark had accused her of being.

  "Come on in,” she said and moved back, watching as he stepped over the threshold.

  Anne's pulse accelerated as he followed her into the kitchen. She fought down images of Sam and his lover replaying in her head. She tossed a glance over her shoulder. He was standing in the archway that separated the kitchen from her workshop in what had been the dining room.

  "Wow, you've got quite a set up,” he offered. “Are you some kind of artist?"

  "A sculptor. And you?"

  "I'm a contractor, and I restore old homes in my spare time. I buy them cheap, live in them while I fix them up, then sell them."

  "Why didn't you buy this place? It was a steal"

  "It would have been too hard to sell,” he said, offering a wry grin. “It has a reputation for being haunted."

  "But you braved the ghost and came over,” she challenged.

  He laughed. His sapphire eyes lighting up with humor. “I had to meet the person who could stay in the place overnight."

  "It really wasn't any great feat of courage. It felt like home.” Even more than that, it felt as if the house liked her and wanted her there. She gave herself a mental shake. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd grown up in small apartments in poor neighborhoods that made the house so welcoming.

  His blue-eyed gaze slid lower and touched her pert nipples pushing against the soft fabric of her tee shirt. At the flare of male interest in his eyes, a moist heat started to pool between her legs.

  He looked up and warmth swept across her cheeks.

  "Cream and sugar?” Her voice sounded breathless, but thankfully, she got the words out without stammering. After last night, her body craved fulfillment, and Sam with bulging pecs and snug jeans would be the perfect appetizer.

  "Love some."

  In that instant, the lights flickered then went out. The coffee maker sputtered to a stop.

  "That's odd. The electrical was just overhauled.” He moved forward. “If you have a flashlight, I'll check out the power panel."

  She nodded. His male scent mingled with a musky cologne and drifted toward her. It was a primal scent and heady with promise. Without a word, she reached in a drawer and pulled out a brand new flashlight.

  Anne followed him down the stairs to the basement. Her foot slid off the step, and a strong arm caught her by the waist, pulling her against a solid chest, sandwiching something equally hard between their bodies. His forearm supported her breasts.

  "Careful now,” he said.

  At his husky, whispered words, a quiver o
f need rippled through her sex, and her crotch grew slick with anticipation. Remembering the way he had held the woman last night her head fell back until it came to rest on his shoulder.

  She moistened her lips, caught in the heady, sensual silence closing in on them. With his free hand, Sam brushed her hair away from the side of her neck, and she let her head tip to the side in a silent invitation. He touched his lips to the spot below her earlobe, then nipped and kissed a path lower until he reached the crook of her neck. The soft touch shot through her straight to the apex of her thighs. If this was foreplay, then she wanted to dive into the game.

  He relaxed his hold long enough for her to turn to face him. Her gaze moved to the fly closure of his jeans, now straining over his arousal. The sight awoke a primal force that guided her hands under his tee shirt. She circled his nipples, exploring every dip and rise on his chest, savoring the soft texture of the whorls of hair covering his chest. His skin felt like sun warmed silk against her palms, and she wanted to explore more intimate curves. She followed the silky trail to his waist and lower, sliding a finger under his waistband, surprised by her boldness, and yet unwilling to stop.

  His hand caught her wrist but didn't pull her away, just impeded her progress.

  "You don't have a girlfriend or significant other who might object, do you?” The question slid between her dry lips on a whisper.

  "No, but I didn't plan to hit on you this soon no matter how much I wanted to.” He offered a lopsided grin. “At least, not on our first meeting."

  She grasped the hem of her tee shirt. This might be insane, but she couldn't stop. Lust held her prisoner and guided her hands. She wanted more and was ready to make it happen. With an impatient gesture, she pulled her shirt upward, over her head, then let it fall beside her. Though startled by her uncharacteristic boldness the blatantly provocative action had empowered her as well. “Well, what better way to welcome a neighbor to the area?"

  Sam sucked in a sharp gasp, then put his hand over hers. “Are you sure?"

  He set the flashlight on the step then as he straightened he cupped her breasts. She arched, pressing the taut nipples against his palms.

  He leaned forward and circled each areola with the tip of his tongue.

  "More,” she whispered.

  "My pleasure.” His voice was a low growl.

  She felt him grin against the sensitized skin of her breast. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging at the hungry bud. Anne looked down at the top of his head, at his sun-kissed waves and felt like two women, one observing the scene with disbelief, the other impatient to open her legs and feel him plough his swollen penis deep inside her.

  She raked her fingers through his closely cropped hair. The erotic pulse between her legs accelerated, and her labial lips started to swell in anticipation. He moved to the other breast, and she closed her eyes, enjoying each lick and tug from his talented lips and tongue.

  He lifted his head, then stroked his hand across her cheek. A sexy, lopsided grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “When I came over, I was hoping to get to know you better.” He laughed softly, a quiet rumble echoing in his chest. “Though this wasn't quite the welcome I was expecting."

  "Are you disappointed?” she teased, lifting the hem of his shirt. He lifted his arms over his head then leaned over so Anne could pull it off.

  "Hell, no,” he said, smoothing his hands under the curves of her breasts. “This beats any welcome to the neighborhood visit I've ever had before."

  Anne smiled, then reached for the snap on his jeans and then tugged it apart. She slid the zipper slowly down his bulging erection. He sucked in a breath, his body tensing. At the soft sound, smug satisfaction spread as fast as the lust spreading in her belly.

  She slipped her hands down the sides of his pants and then pushed them over his hips, her palms skimming over the soft fabric of his briefs, then down the sides of his muscled thighs, and lower to tight calves. He kicked off his jeans, then pulled the snap of her jeans apart. He pushed both her panties and jeans down in one smooth stroke and then tugged them off.

  "I want to feel you inside me.” The words came out on a ragged whisper from somewhere deep inside her, from a different woman, who was wanton and bold. Her body ached, craving fulfillment so badly it hurt. She'd never felt anything like this before.

  "Your wish is my command.” He nudged her legs apart then leaned forward, grazing his nose across her pubic hair, before separating the lips of her sex with his fingertips. “But I want to taste you first."

  "Taste me?” The first moment of hesitation filtered through the wild abandon leading her forward in this sensual adventure. “But."

  "But what?” he murmured. The heat of his breath skimmed over inflamed flesh.

  "No one's...” The words failed to come.

  "No one's ever touched you like this?” His tongue slid between the slippery folds.

  Anne sucked in a breath.

  "Or like this?” His lips closed around her clit, and he suckled the sensitized nub.

  "Oh, God.” She arched again, letting her legs fall further apart. Embarrassment succumbed to breathtaking awe. She rocked with him, gasping out mews of pleasure, then a growl of frustration when he pulled away.

  She rested on her elbows on the step behind her and watched as he disposed of his briefs. The dim light filtering through the small windows softened his features. Perhaps it was best this way. She'd never been able to make love in the daylight, something Mark had grumbled about. Now, she was half-naked with a man she'd just met, thrilled and alarmed at how easy it had been to yield to the demands of the lust welling up inside her.

  Sam's erection stood out from his body. A bead of moisture formed on the helmet-shaped tip of his penis. Curious, she slid her finger over the tip, collecting the sticky drop, then smiled when he sucked in a quick breath.

  She licked it off her finger, surprised by the salty taste. She slid her hands down his rigid erection, to the nest of golden curls circling the base, then lower to the soft but uneven skin covering his genitals. She dragged a fingertip lightly over the textured skin of his scrotum. Perhaps it was the darkness or the fact he was almost a stranger that made her feel like an adventurous stranger in her own body.

  He pulled back.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "Wrong? This is perfect,” he said. “But I'm about ready to cum."

  Anne savored the sight of the tanned, rippling muscles of his legs and butt, content to enjoy the view as he leaned over and dug his wallet out of his jeans pocket, then pulled out a small foil packet.

  "Here, hold this.” He passed her the condom package then grasped her by the waist, lifting her off the step. He turned around and sat down, settling her between the v of his legs.

  "Let me put it on,” she offered. Another first. She'd always insisted that Mark put on the condom. The quick rip of a condom package seemed loud in the silence. She took it, then smoothed the latex sheath over the bulging head, then slowly over the rod and the veins standing out along its length. God he was large, she thought. A lot larger than Mark who was excessively proud of his manhood.

  "I thought you were in a hurry,” he growled. He put his hand over hers, smoothing the plastic sheath the rest of the way along his shaft.

  Sam grasped her waist again, lifting her and sliding his legs between hers, spreading her legs wide and drawing her close until his penis rested against her pubic hair. Unable to look away from his sex, Anne felt his hands at her waist move her until the tip of his arousal slid along her moist sex. He was so large; she couldn't imagine him fitting the whole length of it inside her. Mark's smaller member had at times been uncomfortable.

  He eased her down over the quivering pole until their bodies met. She sucked in a gasp of air, dizzy with the ripple of sensation, warming her insides. A murmur of pure pleasure rose in her throat.

  He lifted her then lowered her, each time rising to meet her, setting a primitive rhythm. Anne rested her knees o
n the step on either side of his hips to participate in the primal dance he'd begun. She started to rock, using her hips to grind against his body. She arched backward, his hands supporting her while she rose and rocked, gulping for breath until her vaginal walls finally clenched around him in an explosive burst of sensation.

  "Oh, God,” she gasped as she fell against his chest and his arms closed around her.

  "Double ditto on that,” he murmured against her neck.

  Anne wasn't sure what to say or do. Nothing in past experience could compare. This sampling of sex had sated her and left her hungry for more all at the same time.

  "Lady, you can come and borrow sugar at my place anytime,” he said, then kissed her shoulder.

  A soft laugh bubbled up from deep inside her as aftershocks rippled through her sex. “I just might take you up on it.” She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to do this again, to fall into a glorious sexual union, but she wasn't about to close a door on a place she might want to revisit.

  She straightened, looking down at the base of the v where their bodies were still joined. His crisp blond curls mingled with Anne's golden brown pubic hair. His tanned skin contrasted against her pale limbs. Her gaze climbed higher over a tight rippled abdomen and rounded pecs with dusty brown, dime-sized nipples. Male beauty swept away embarrassment.

  "Hello! Anybody home?” Deb's voice came from somewhere above them.

  Anne straightened; a fiery blush burned her cheeks. Once again, she was caught in that eerie, what-have-I-just-done sensation.

  "Downstairs,” she returned. “Just checking out the power panel. Hold on, we'll be right up."

  Sam grinned as he lifted her quickly off his body. She picked her tee shirt from the step where it had fallen, then pulled it quickly over her head. Sam pressed her jeans into her hands. She pulled them on with trembling hands, still a prisoner of the feeling of disbelief.