She turns to face me and drapes her arms over my shoulder. “That’s because she’s mad at you.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“You hurt her, and now she wants to hurt you.”
“I haven’t hurt Monroe Blanco. She’s impenetrable.”
Angelina rolls her eyes. “Deny, deny, deny,” she sings.
I kiss her beautiful mouth. I swear this is the best feeling in the world. I can’t think about Monroe and her fucking tantrum at the moment. “Why don’t we skip the shindig? Your mother’s going, and we can be as loud as we want.”
“She’s not leaving soon. Madame Beauchamp is always fashionably late, and I have to dance some so that I can be loose before she gets there. I’m going to show her my skills tonight.” Angelina’s eyes are shining.
I lift her chin and kiss her mouth. “That’s right, you’re going to dance for her.”
“Yep, that’s right.”
I narrow one eye. “And you think it’s the best way to tell her that you’re not in medical school?”
“No, but if she sees what I can do, then when I tell her that I’ve never been to medical school and have no plans to ever become a doctor, she’ll have a frame of reference.”
I chuckle because her plan is silly but she still looks cute relaying it. “And that’s your dancing?”
“Uh huh.”
“And then we’ll come back here and…” I raise my eyebrows.
She rolls her eyes in that cute way of hers and takes my hand. “Yes, Charlie. We will. But let’s go already.”
There’s a brick pathway that zigzags through a sparse forest that separates Josephine’s property from Karina’s. It’s a warm late afternoon. Every now and then I draw her into my arms and kiss her, only because I can’t believe I have her consent to do it. She freely lets me taste her lips and tongue, as well as fondle her ass and tits. The sound and quality of the music excites me, but I still have sex on the brain.
“You’re making this the longest walk in history, Charlie,” she says and leaps forward, ballet style. I notice how pointy her feet are in the flat sandals with black ribbon laced around her ankles. She takes a second leap and hangs in the air gracefully. Enough with the jumps, what I want her to do is split her legs in front of me again with one foot on the ground and the other leg on my shoulder. I want to thrust my fingers in and out of her slippery pussy. It’s going to be tough as hell to make it through the next hour without making love to her.
“That was nice,” I say as I wrap her up in my arms and pull her against me. I bump my lump against her ass just to show her what she’s doing to me. I’m close to convincing her to see things my way when she falls into me.
“Angel, is that you?” a guy asks before I can ask her to kick her leg up and drape it over my shoulder.
“Shit,” I grumble. I’m going to get fucking blue balls at this rate.
“Corey?” Angelina steps out of my grasp. It’s yet another guy that she knows. I’m beginning to wonder if she knows any girls.
Some guy who’s stupid enough to smoke a cigarette in the woods is heading our way. He’s scowling at me as though he’s ready to duke it out or draw swords.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks, leaving out the implied part of the question which is “with him.”
“We’re on our way to Karina’s. Charlie, this is Corey. Corey, Charlie.”
I extend my hand, but he sneers at Angelina and pretends he doesn’t see it.
I’m about to pull my hand back when Angelina says, “You’re not going to shake my friend’s hand?”
“He’s your friend?” Now he shakes it.
Being referred to as her friend confuses me. I thought we were more than that.
“Well, family really. Charlie’s my sister’s husband’s brother,” she says, sticking the dagger in deeper and twisting it.
“You have a sister? I didn’t know that.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” The way she smiles at him infects me with a pinch of jealousy. Angelina has the same come-hither eyes that Madame Josephine Beauchamp had used to charm audiences around the globe.
He’s grinning. “Well, you know, I’m always trying to get to know more about you.”
She scoffs. “Well, I’m getting to know Charlie at the moment. In the biblical way.”
He’s gone back to grimacing. “Are you done with the brothers?”
“No,” she says as if she’s offended. “Charlie is my brother!”
I can’t help but laugh along with her. Colby or Cosby or whatever the hell his name is doesn’t find her joke funny.
He squats to smash his cigarette out in the damp soil. “Save a dance for me?” He’s flashing a toothy smile at her. Hell, I might as well be invisible.
I want to say something. The disrespect is at an all-time high. But Angelina smashes her tits against the side of my chest and that says more than enough.
“Good seeing you, Corey,” Angelina says and looks up at me to roll her eyes discreetly. We walk on together. “The ignorant and simple-minded we’ll always have with us,” she says.
“Did you used to hang out with him?” I ask, wondering why the hell he was so territorial.
“When you say ‘hang out’ do you mean ‘have sex’?”
“Okay, have sex.”
“No, never. He likes me though. Men like him are like anchors tied around the ankles.”
“And what about men like me?”
“Oh.” She rubs on my chest. “You’re air.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Neither good or bad. It just is.”
I want her to elaborate, but she runs ahead of me to open a gate that’s covered with vines.
She curtsies. “After you.”
Suddenly I forget about her air comment and grab her and smash her against the gate. Oh shit, do I love kissing her. My dick is rubbing against her pubic bone. I’m trying to recreate some of the sensations she was getting from me on the grass earlier. Sounds that I don’t normally make are escaping me.
“Can you get the hell out of the way?” Colby asks.
I force my lips off of Angelina’s. She’s gasping. Her eyes are ablaze.
“This way, babe,” I say just to rub it in as we move to the side.
Casey slams the gate behind him. I check my watch. It’s six-thirty. “My flight leaves at ten,” I say as I try to catch my breath. “What time do you think your mother is going to arrive?”
“In another hour, maybe.”
“You dance, then we leave. Is that a plan you can support?” I smirk.
“It is,” she whispers.
I open the gate and bow to let her pass. She kisses me on the cheek before entering. Oh, how far I want to take that one kiss, but I practice restraint.
There are upwards of a hundred people scattered across the white slate stone patio. The yard reminds me of a piazza surrounded by Cyprus trees. The dancing has already begun. Jacques is on a cement platform playing the keyboard along with a saxophonist and drummer. Then a woman in a flowing white dress gallops onto the platform. “You don’t have to cry for me—I’m swimming in your love sea, baby—,” she sings, reaching a high C.
When Angelina said that there would be lots of dancing and music, I didn’t picture this. I thought people would stand around in groups for the earlier part of the afternoon, getting reacquainted and tipsy enough to let loose later. But no, the energy is raw, spontaneous, and enthusiastic—and in full force.
I have my hand on Angelina’s hip, massaging the curve. “Look,” she says before I can ask her to slow dance with me to the upbeat music. My eyes follow her finger. Jacques is playing the keyboard with one hand and waving me over with the other.
I reach behind me to feel for Betty. I’d almost forgotten I had her with me. Shit, this is a tough decision: an opportunity to play live in front of a crowd with Jacques Blanchard or more grinding against Angelina. She’s ready to dance, and not at a pace where I could get
my rocks off.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask her.
“Go, music man,” she croons seductively and nudges me towards the platform. “Show them what you got.”
“Can I have a kiss first?”
She smashes her lips onto mine. My tongue swirls around hers. I run my fingers through her hair and grip one of her sexy ass cheeks. Then I remember her father can see us and let go of her. Angelina rests her forehead on my chest as she catches her breath. Truthfully, I choose her over playing with her father, but I know she’s not going to want to leave anytime soon.
“Later,” I say with my lips on her ear.
She gazes up at my face with those hypnotic eyes of hers. “Play well.”
I slap her ass playfully one last time before I trot off. I leap on stage ready to pluck Betty, but Jacques points to a bass guitar that’s plugged in next to the drummer. It’s a sweet deal. I lay Betty down out of harm’s way to get situated. I’m nervous as hell, but Angelina is still watching me with her dazzling smile and it’s putting me at ease. Then a guy grabs her from behind. He boosts her off the ground. She curls her body over his head and kicks up her leg. I remind myself that she’s here to dance. I wish it were with me even though she’s eons out of my league. I finish getting set up with the bass and jump right into the psychedelic soulful beat.
The other guys acknowledge me as soon as they see that I can keep up. The crowd has grown. There’s a sea of bodies across the wide courtyard. Those who aren’t dancing are around the bar in the back, standing in groups, laughing and talking like old friends should. Jacques changes the chords again. We’re playing a Latin jazz beat. I look for Angelina, and it’s a relief to find her dancing with a woman. They’re shimming back and forth against each other. Then Angelina leaps to her next partner. It’s a guy, and he grinds her ass. I rip the wrong note but quickly get back on track. The drummer nods at me, appreciating the quick recovery. I have to let Angelina get lost in the crowd so that won’t happen again.
It’s several songs later, and I’m reeling from the high of being able to keep up. I haven’t looked at my watch, but the sun has gone down. There are red, blue, and orange lanterns in the trees. The glare creates a sultry atmosphere. Jacques brings the rhythmic number to an abrupt end. Now I can see why. Dorothy has just wheeled in Josephine. People applaud as they catch their breath. They shake her hand and hug and kiss her. Jacques hops up out of his seat and shuffles over to the microphone.
“Madame Josephine Beauchamp, bonjour,” Jacques says.
The applause grows louder. I don’t have to search through the faces to find Angelina because she’s right at my feet. Her poreless skin is glistening with sweat. It’s sexy as hell. I squat. Our mouths are positioned to kiss, but then she makes a sudden move away and says, “Soon and very soon,” in my ear.
I remain low as I watch her sexy body prance through the crowd. The trombone heats up. I stand up. Jacques is playing it. Next there are the drums and then the piano. The bass has no place in this traditional New Orleans jazz piece. A clarinet player has joined in.
I know that my time on stage is up, and I’m damn happy about it. That last tease by Angelina has me all excited. I snatch Betty and strap her on my back, jump off the platform, and walk past the active bodies until I catch sight of Angelina bending her back and kicking up her legs. She has perfect lines and form and all that shit. Then she spins fast on her toes. I still think showing her mother how well she can dance instead of just telling her the outright truth is a bad idea. But how could Josephine not be proud of Angelina’s precision and grace?
The group that’s gathered around Josephine is enjoying the show. However, Josephine motions for Dorothy. Angelina stops dancing as Dorothy and two others roll her mother away.
“What the hell,” I mutter and rush to be with her before the guy we ran into in the woods can reach her. I hug her tightly, and she rests her face against my chest. We sway slowly to the upbeat number. Please, dick—don’t get hard. I don’t want Angelina to think that I’d rather fuck her than comfort her like this in her time of need. I glance at my watch.
“It’s nine o’clock,” I say.
Angelina gazes up at me. Her cheeks are wet. I wipe them dry before I put a tender kiss on her lips. She puts an arm around my waist and walks us to the backyard. I know what comes next, and I’m about to burst. Pillowy soft grass crunches under our feet. We go out of a gate. It’s dark as hell, but Angelina knows exactly where she’s going. We haven’t spoken a word. We are emitting too many contradictory emotions. She has a tight grip on my hand as we cross a brick bridge that straddles a creek. I draw her into my arms once we reach the other side.
“What did I expect to happen?” Angelina says.
I kiss the side of her face. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
She releases a long sigh. “That was so stupid. I looked like a fool. What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I let my lips find hers. My tongue seeks hers. I squeeze her so tight that she gasps. That’s what I want. I want to consume her life, her soul. I suck her top lip into my mouth.
“Wait,” she says breathlessly.
She takes my hand and leads me past another gate. We’re back on her property. My chest feels tight as our feet shuffle across the grass. I’m so turned on that my dick feels trapped in my pants. We enter the house through the back door. Expectation follows us through the shadowy hallways. Wherever Josephine went after reacting unfavorably to Angelina’s performance, she did not return home. We pass the staircase. She opens a door at the end of the hallway, and we descend a flight of stairs.
There’s a room at the bottom. There’s a recording studio behind a glass wall and a bed on the opposite side. Angelina switches on a small lamp. The light is soft. I take Betty off my back and prop her up against the wall. Angelina stands in front of me with her arms hanging by her side and surrender in her eyes. I’m bulging out of my pants. I take her dress by the hem and pull it up over her head. My mouth waters at the sight of her in a pair of sheer red panties and a bra. I slide my hand down her ribcage to her waist. Her skin is warm and moist. I swallow, breathing heavily through my nose. I want her so badly that I can’t stand it. I rip my shirt open. Buttons fly everywhere. I tug my belt loose. Angelina unbuttons and unzips my pants before I can rip them open. Her hand slides down my chest, and I skip a breath. Our eyes connect.
I lower my mouth to suck one of her hard-as-hell nipples. She moans as she takes me by the shoulders. My tongue goes round and round it. I rake it with my teeth. I flicker my tongue across it. I tell my dick it has to wait. It was pinned against my stomach until Angelina started rubbing it. Shit, I wish she would stop. I want to devour her tits some more. They are my favorite part of her body, and I’m usually a leg man. She cries out when I bite the nipple of her other tit. I mean for it to sting. It works. She lets go of my dick and wraps her arms around my neck. I quickly stomp out of my pants and lower her onto the bed. I keep flicking her nipples with my tongue as I pull off her panties, part her knees and push my dick into her dripping wet pussy. “Fuck,” I gasp and scratch her nipple with my lower teeth. When I’m done with her nipples, I want them to be just as sore as her tight pussy leaves my dick. And speaking of her pussy, it’s hot as hell. Each thrust makes me want to blow. So I go slowly, deep, then pull out to the rim of her pussy and repeat. I want to hit every pleasurable spot she has. I’ve learned and remember most of them.
I examine her face. I love it when she closes her eyes to savor every sensation I’m making her feel. I kiss her sweet mouth and suck on her soft bottom lip while I prod her.
“Come for me baby,” I whisper. I want her pussy to go into a seizure. I guide my dick up and to the right. Angelina contracts her walls around me and holds there. She moans louder, more intense. I’m where I need to be. Not yet, I say to my dick. It’s ready to orgasm and blast one off. “Your pussy is so fucking tight,” I whisper.
The sounds she’s m
aking are erotic as hell. Finally her pussy does what I’ve been waiting for. She moans without restraint and quakes. When she sighs, settling down, I flip her over onto her stomach and lift her ass so that I can enter her pussy from the back.
“Oh shit!” I’m pounding the hell out of her. I’m trying to make it last, but from top to bottom she’s too fucking tight. “Oh!” I shout once I’m weakened by the best fucking sensation a man can feel. It feels so damn marvelous that I almost white out. Tits. Ass. Skin. I remember wanting all of that, which is probably why when I return to myself, I’m squeezing the hell out of Angelina’s breasts and my groin is nailed against her ass. Although I’m all out of gas, I pitch her back and forth against my deflated dick. I’m not ready to stop.
“Oh my goodness, Charlie, you’re a sex god.” She chuckles with her heart-shaped ass still pinched against me.
“You’re the sex goddess,” I say and flip her back over onto her back.
I separate her knees and smash my tongue on her clit. She’s wet and soft. I can smell her natural sweet scent, a little perspiration from her dancing, and my come. The aroma is an aphrodisiac. I’m moaning as if I can’t get enough. Shit, I just might eat her alive.
“Oh, Charlie,” she keeps saying.
I sink my fingers inside of her. I want to feel the show. I lick her clit straight up the middle, and she screams and tries to wriggle away. I clamp down on her ass. She’s not going anywhere. I look up to see her stomach muscles rolling.
She’s squeezing her tits. My dick twitches. That’s a sign that it’s ready to spring back to life. It wants more of this beautiful creature with a beautiful body, a beautiful smile, and a gorgeous soul. Her entire lower half jerks, even her legs. Damn, her orgasm is severe. When it’s over she covers her face with her hands and breathes heavily into them while juices still pour out of her.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims. “What are you trying to do to me?”
I slide up between her legs and try to push my half-hardened dick into her. Only half of it makes it inside.
“Wait,” she says and looks down. “You’re still hard?”
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