“Pity. I hadn’t gotten used to the old you enough to want to see a new you.”
His fingers danced lightly over her cheeks and down her chin. As though he willed it, she lifted her head without being asked so he could touch her neck. Wherever his fingers touched, her body came alive.
As he smoothed his fingers down her arms, she asked, “Are you bisexual?”
He chuckled. That made her open her eyes and seek truth in his expression.
He became solemn. “No. I don’t sleep with men. I love women too much. However, if the mood hit me, I would.”
She nodded. “Have you done a threesome with another man and a woman?”
He paused before answering. “Yes.” He caressed her chest between her breasts but never touched them. It was as though he was saving them for later or maybe he just liked torturing her.
“Would you like to have sex with two men at once?” he asked.
She swallowed, a response she hoped he didn’t catch. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
His hazel eyes glared at her as though demanding the truth. “You can have whatever you want here. If it doesn’t work, you don’t have to do it again. But if you’re curious, why not try?”
“Is that why you married a black woman?” she asked, not meaning to pry but curious to know.
“Is that why you’re with a white man?” he shot back.
“I’m biracial. Black mother. White father. I could have gone either way.”
He smiled at her candor. “I’m glad the pendulum tilted in our favor.”
His lips covered hers in a hungry kiss. Tongues touched in an erotic dance. He tasted of Amaretto and smelled like expensive cologne, full of musk and woodsy. It was during the kiss that he finally touched her breast.
She gasped in his mouth but he never broke from the kiss or the embrace. His hand palmed her, massaged her breast like he’d done it before. The touch, the kiss, they erupted a current between her legs. She couldn’t believe how her body reacted to this man, this stranger. What was even more alarming was that she craved more of his touch.
She curved her leg up. The motion must have given him the impression to do more exploring. His hand flitted down her body, over her stomach and to her legs. Just like before, he purposely avoided touching her pussy. Her clit throbbed, awaiting his attention.
Art didn’t give in easily to her body’s demands. With the patience and the precision only a surgeon could have, he broke from the kiss and moved his hand down her leg to her feet. Then he switched to her other foot and made the same trek up her leg. To encourage him she spread her legs apart, dying to feel him touch her, please her.
Instead he let his hand curve up her waist, then to her breast.
“You want me to beg, don’t you?” she asked out of frustration.
“A man likes to be asked.” He smiled and winked.
He knew he was torturing her and loved it. Without a word, he took her shoulder and pulled her up, prodding her to turn over onto her stomach.
Zora obliged but her body tensed. The position was vulnerable. What did he want to do to her?
Pushing her hair off to the side, he started kissing her at the back of her neck. Zora couldn’t stop the moan that escaped through her mouth. He positioned his body so that he straddled her backside. She felt his thick rod resting at the crack of her ass. She tightened.
But he never stopped. He continued kissing down her back, tickling her spine with his tongue and allowing his fingertips to caress her arms, her sides, her shoulders. His hard body slid down her legs until his face hovered over her ass. She knew this from feeling his hot breath on her cheeks.
“Mmm, you smell so good.” He kissed one ass cheek and she flinched.
The warmth of his mouth surprised her. When she felt his teeth taking a nip from her cheek, she yelped. It didn’t hurt her but it sure did shock her…in a good way. His tongue laved her backside, circling her cheek before sliding under it where it met her thigh.
Her body trembled. She clutched the pillow under her face, hoping to rein in her anxiety. It only made her more anxious. When he spread her legs apart, her insides contorted into a tight ball. He licked his tongue from her clit to her puckered anus, making her let out an obscene scream. She hoped to God that Grant was in Art’s house and wouldn’t be able to hear her cries of ecstasy. Maybe he was having a good time too, with Winta.
Art teased her with his skilled tongue, flitting it over her pussy lips but never darting it between the wet folds. Zora clawed the bed, aching to come, needing the release.
Without prompting, she raised her ass in the air to give him better access. The motion worked. He licked her clit until her legs twitched and felt almost numb.
“Oh, God, Art!”
He hummed, moaned, squeezed her ass until everything inside of her screamed. Tired of waiting, she moved her body up and away from him and turned over. Even in the darkened room she saw the confused expression covering Art’s face.
“Come here!” she demanded.
A sly smirk hitched up as he crawled to her. “I love a woman who knows what she wants and demands it.”
She put her hand to the back of his head and kissed him, tasting her salty juices on his mouth and tongue. She rolled him onto his back. Feeling his chest, she had an interest in worshipping his body too. But it was in a different way than when he’d done it.
She nipped his tight flesh at his shoulder. Then dragged her tongue over his nipple. Meanwhile her hand had an agenda of its own. It reached down and wrapped around his cock. At the touch, Art sucked air between his teeth and leaned his head back against the pillow.
A pearl of pre-come beaded at the tip. It glistened in the dim lighting. Hungrily, she slithered down his body and licked the tip of his cock.
“Oh, Zora!”
His breathing came out in shallow pants as she continued licking his bulbous tip. Her mouth dipped down halfway on his shaft and she held him there. With her ass still next to his chest, he let his hands caress it.
When she took a breath, she noticed his cock even smelled of his cologne. His scent made her want him more until she couldn’t stop the flood raging from her cunt. She cradled his tight balls in one hand, gently massaging them while her other hand held the base of his shaft.
Zora attempted to bring her mouth down as far as she could go without gagging. She couldn’t with Grant and Art proved to be just as difficult. Her throat tightened and she backed off before he could notice. But it didn’t stop her.
Her tongue snaked around him, becoming familiar with all of his bulges and veins. His erection throbbed in her mouth, in her hand. She stroked the base while her mouth worked the top.
She barely caught Art telling her to stop.
“Please, stop!” he screamed.
Still holding onto his sac and clutching his shaft, she turned to him.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he said breathlessly.
His words made her reach for the box of condoms next to him. Ripping one from the string of packages, she opened it and slid it down over him.
“Mmmm, the one that warms up. You must have been shopping with my wife.”
Zora straddled him, still holding him in her hand. “She told me some of the things you liked but not everything.”
Before he could say another word, she eased him inside of her, deep, until she rested on his hips, her knees by his sides.
“Damn it! So tight!” He grabbed her hips.
“So deep.” She braced her hands against his chest as she rode him, slow at first to enjoy the feeling. The curve in his shaft managed to hit her sensitive G-spot. “Winta must love fucking you.”
Suspending her upper body over his chest, he moved his hands from her hips and held her breasts. His thumbs circled her nipples until the sensations from above and below made every cell in her body quake.
Zora undulated her hips back and forth, riding him hard. The heat from the condom combined with the sex made her sweat. Her
mouth sought his in the darkened room. She pressed her chest against his as she kissed him.
Zora ground her hips down until she was at the point of no return. Her body shook as her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“I’m coming! Hard! Fast! Now!” she screamed.
To help her along, Art slid his hand in between them and rubbed her clit. Zora jerked back upright and let out a scream that seemed inhuman. It was followed by a growl from Art that was inevitable. He grabbed her thighs and held onto her, pushing his cock in and out of her until they both collapsed into a fleshy, sweaty heap.
Zora climbed off of his body and positioned herself next to him, her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach. She didn’t want to move.
Art pushed her hair back from her damp face. “Tell me. Be honest. Did you think about Grant during that?”
She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. “Yes.”
She thought the truth would have hurt his feelings. Gazing up, Zora, instead, found him smiling.
“Good. You belong here then. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Chapter Ten
“So you want to do this or what?” Winta asked, placing her hands on her hips to amplify her abrupt inquiry.
Grant stepped back. He felt his mouth open and close but nothing came out.
Her giggling made him breathe again.
“Just kidding.” She poked him in the chest. “Lighten up. It’s just sex.”
“You people keep saying that like you’re taking a joyride or something.” He put his hand on his chest and gulped down a deep breath.
She sauntered around him. “You wouldn’t enjoy this ride?”
Not trusting his vocal chords, Grant remained quiet while Winta positioned herself in front of him. In her come-fuck-me heels, she stood almost as tall as him. Her ass pressed against his crotch and she leaned her head back, allowing her straight, black hair to sweep across his chest.
Grant knew she had to have heard him panting. It took every ounce of strength not to touch her, stroke her hair, caress her. He could have had her bikini top off with a pull of a string. Her short skirt allowed him to see she had a thong on that showed off her rounded ass.
When Grant didn’t respond to her, she turned around. It was then that he became awestruck by her green eyes contrasting with her dark skin. She looked like a statue, all angles and fullness.
“You need to relax.” She took his hand. “Drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” He didn’t pull away from her.
“Come see our playroom.”
Grant could only imagine what a playroom would be like for Winta and Art. It was probably some kinky sex den with whips, chains, lots of leather and a camera. Winta led him down a hall, then down a set of stairs. At the bottom, she opened the door. To Grant’s amazement, she truly did take him to a game room. Five pinball 97 machines lined the walls. A dartboard hung on an empty wall. A foosball table sat by a window. And in the center of the room had to have been the biggest and best-looking pool table Grant had ever seen.
Each leg had something different carved into it. An elephant on one, giraffe in a jungle on another, a panther with an extended paw on the third, and two lovers intertwined on the last leg.
Winta must have noticed Grant staring at the impressive piece.
“Art had that made and shipped here. It’s his favorite.” She ran her hands down the blood-red top. “Want to play?”
“What do you know how to play?” he asked, as he surveyed the rack full of pool cues.
“How about a simple game of Eight Ball?”
She sauntered to him and reached up for the highest cue, brushing her breast against him in the motion.
“What? Not Strip Eight Ball?” he joked.
“I was going to suggest it but I thought you would freak.”
“No, you knew I would turn it down because I know that you’re a ringer. You would whip my tail in pool.” He chose a stick and followed her to the table.
“Is that what you want, Grant? You want me to spank you?” She batted her eyelashes.
“I have to be on my toes with you I see.”
She placed the balls in the rack and moved them around. “Or I can be on my toes. Whatever turns you on.” She winked. “You want to break?”
“Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman.”
On purpose, she strolled by him, squeezing herself between him and the table instead of walking around him or walking around the other side.
Grant, deciding not to let her win at this intimidation game, stood his ground. When she was directly in front of him, he put his hands on her waist. She gasped.
“Winner take all,” he whispered in her ear.
She turned to him, her ass still at his slow rising cock. “I plan on it.”
Then she continued to the end of the table. Like a pro, she chalked the end of her cue. Bent over, she positioned her hand on the table, her stick sliding between her long fingers.
She brought her hand back and sent the cue ball careening through the rest of the colored balls. They scattered over the table with a couple going into side pockets. Grant peered down at one ball that rolled toward him. He thought the balls looked unusual. It wasn’t until he made a close inspection that he noticed each ball had a picture of a naked woman. Upon a closer examination, he discovered that the woman was Winta.
“Art had them specially made too.” She smiled as she chalked up her cue again. “That was a fun day, posing nude all day. We did it here at the house.”
Grant broke his gaze and held his cue tightly. “Guess Art doesn’t bring many friends and family members down here to play.”
“Not children.” She made another shot that sent two more balls into two different side pockets. “But he’s brought other doctors, close friends, associates in here. They’ve all seen it.”
“And you’re not ashamed?”
Winta pulled one of the balls out of the side pocket and walked back to Grant. She took his hand and placed the ball in it. “Does it look like I should be ashamed?”
She walked away, leaving him to examine her picture. In this one, the six ball, it was a profile shot where she sat naked on her haunches with her arms raised in the air. Her body did look amazing.
He dropped the ball into the side pocket and cleared his throat.
“Art has you on display.”
That statement got her attention. She finally missed a shot. A curse punctuated her failure.
“No, Art doesn’t have me on display. I have me on display. Art just has me by his side. There’s a big difference.”
Examining the remaining balls on the table as he strolled around it, he took his position on the side and concentrated on the shot. If only Winta wasn’t standing at the other end of the table, leaned over, with her succulent breasts dangling in front of him.
“You’re a little uptight,” she said, her voice dropping down.
Grant kept his gaze on the cue ball but missed his shot anyway. He couldn’t get his mind off of Winta’s body.
“Goes along with the stereotype, right? Uptight accountant.”
“I hate stereotypes. Black men are bigger than white men. Black women love to fuck.” She hiked her ass in the air as she reached for a difficult shot. Before attempting it, she turned to him. “White guys love big asses.”
She cracked the cue ball against one ball, sending two more balls into pockets.
“How about never play pool against a woman who knows how to play the game?” Grant asked.
“No, that’s not how it goes. It should be never bet a woman in pool when she is a master at the game.” She lined up her last shot. “Eight ball in the corner pocket.”
Grant stood next to the pocket she called. With a slow and easy hit, she tapped the eight ball to the pocket. Before it could roll in, he picked it up. On the eight ball, the picture of Winta was of her standing with her arms crossed over her head, giving her a true hourglass figure.
“That’s cheating.” She held her stick and glared at him.
“I never said I played fair, did I?” Grant could banter and tease as well as Winta.
“So you know what I have to do?”
“What?”
“Teach you a lesson.”
Grant snickered. “What are you supposed to teach me? Or am I supposed to show you something?”
“Oh, you’re going to show me something. You’d better believe it.” She set her pool stick against the table and sauntered to him. Taking his hand, she said, “I’m going to teach you how to properly fuck a black woman.”
He snatched his hand from her grasp. “Get out of here. I know how to fuck and I know how to satisfy a woman, no matter the color.”
With disbelief covering her face, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Really?”
“Of course. Zora is satisfied. Believe me.”
“Is she really, Grant? I’m a woman. I can tell when another woman has that look in her eyes, the look that says she wants more, she needs more.”
Grant stared at Winta, searching her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or if she was handing him shit on a platter.
“Bullshit.” He threw his cue onto the table.
“You want me to tell you what’s going on at your house right now?”
Putting his hands to his hips, he glared at her. He didn’t answer, letting his stare be his response.
“Art has got Zora so relaxed she probably doesn’t know what’s hit her. He is the master at getting women to relax. It’s in his nature. Then he’ll do what drives me crazy, worship her body, caress her until she wants to pounce on him.”
Hearing about this man and how he planned on seducing Grant’s girlfriend made him harder. He put his hand on his midsection but remained quiet.
Winta continued. “He’ll let her choose her position. He’s a gentleman that way. And all of that will work.”
“I do that,” Grant said, his tone softening.
She snickered. “No, you don’t. I can see the fire in your eyes. You are as stubborn as the day is long. And you don’t trust people. Why is that?”
He stared at her. Biting the inside of his cheek, he contemplated his next move.
Fascination Street Page 11