by Cole Riley
She was heated, he noted, and seemed in a rush to leave the van. Her lipstick was all smeared.
Docta Love gave her that night’s portion, fifteen hundred dollars in cash, and watched her walk back to the casino. Her booty swayed when she walked, but she seemed groggy on her feet, rather than rushed. She stumbled twice.
He nodded his head.
Docta Love went to bed that night remembering that she didn’t like anal, it hurt too much, but she did it from time to time to please her husband. Such a good wife. Docta Love went to bed smiling.
The next night when she got there, the dealer went straight into the back of the van where he was waiting.
She sat upon his lap, as she had done the night before, and he surprised her by placing his hand (the one that was not holding the hundred-dollar bills) upon her bosom.
She sprang up from his lap and cried, “No groping, sir! I’m not kidding about how sacred my vows are to me!”
Docta Love said to her, “For the second kiss, I need to feel you. What good is it to smell you if I can’t feel? I promise I won’t grope you or fondle you. I ain’t no animal. I’m a sensitive man.”
“But my marriage vows!” she roared
“I ain’t no punk, and this is not negotiable!” he roared back. “Now all I’m gonna do is rest the palm of my hand and the tips of my fingers on your tiddies with such a light touch you ain’t even gonna notice ’em there. When they get tireda being on one side, they gon’ move to the next side, but I swear I ain’t gonna fondle you because I was married once upon a time too, and I believe in marriage vows. I can tell you’re a good wife. You believe in your vows and I respect that. But I believe in my money. And my money is sacred to me. I respect your beliefs if you respect my beliefs.”
Sighing, the dealer sat herself down upon his lap, and Docta Love placed his hand on her bosom.
She puckered her lips for the kiss, but he was not ready to kiss yet, because his fingers and palm resting on the right tit had not yet grown weary of the acreage of that great mound.
Long minutes later, when his palm and his fingertips roamed at last to the other tit and began to fondle that new one, and his lips removed themselves from the sensitive part of her long, beautiful neck where they had been feasting, he kissed her mouth with his mouth, tongue against tongue. Fiercely.
When his hand grew weary of the other tit, it came back to the first tit, and she muttered somehow through the warm, wet clench of their twelve-minute kiss, “My break is over,” and he released her.
Still seated upon his lap, the dealer gently pushed the large erect nipples back under the cups. Refastened her brassiere. Rebuttoned her shirt. Accepted his assistance in reattaching her snap-on bowtie. Checked her makeup in the mirror. Stumbled out of the van and began her groggy swishing, swaying walk across the parking lot. She got halfway to the doors of the casino before running back to the van to collect that night’s portion of the money, which she in her drunken haste had forgotten.
“My bad,” she told him.
“Your tiddies are incredible.”
“I told you they were real.”
“I could suck on them nipples all day.”
“Bet you could.”
“I want to make love to you.”
“I’m a married woman.”
“My dick is real big.”
“I got to get back to work.”
“You wear panties or thongs?’
She smiled wickedly. “Thongs.”
“Ohmygod.”
“I got to get back to work.”
Their eyes locked in understanding, and they licked their lips to a great wetness in anticipation of the night to follow.
She raced back to the casino, running through excuses in her mind to tell her shift manager about why she was late getting back from break, and thinking, He looks like he can keep a secret. Maybe I will let him hit it. At any rate, it’s going to be a beautiful bathroom when this remodeling is finished.
And he was thinking, Wait a minute—she told me that night that she had never cheated on her husband with a man. Oh, I see what she sayin’. Oh, my god, honey girl is a freak. She kissed a girl? She ate pussy? She let some other girl eat her pussy? Hahaha. She’s a straight-up freak. I’m gonna spank that ass. I swear to god, I’ma spank that ass.
The third kiss on the third night did not occur in Docta Love’s customized van because it was the dealer’s night off, though that is not what she told her good husband.
The good husband was led to believe that she had been called in to work mandatory overtime.
The third kiss on the third night took place in an anonymous room of an anonymous hotel, and it was accompanied by good wine and digitalized song from the hotel’s vast selection, which could be piped in for an additional $19.99 added to the bill.
Most importantly, there was the application of tongues to all the members of their bodies so that there might be taste.
He had told her, “How can there be smell and feel, but no taste? I ain’t no animal. I am a sensitive man. I need to taste you. I need you to taste me. I know your wedding vows are sacred, girl, but my money is sacred too. What I’m saying is if you want this money for that bathroom you gon’ have to let a brother get some satisfaction. Let me be frank with you. I need to see that pussy. I need to see that ass.”
As he went through his little speech, she laughed, undressing.
She thought to herself, as she unsnapped her bra, releasing her enormous breasts, I guess he has to say those things. I guess some men have to say things like that to convince themselves that they are in control. That they are making you do it. Oh, well, I’ll play along with his little game as long as he has a big dick. As long as he knows how to work it. What a beautiful bathroom it is going to be. Large gothic mirrors. Italian tiles on the floor.
He kept on talking—“I need to see that pussy. I need to see that ass”—as she stepped out of her tuxedo pants, releasing her luscious luscious Thank-You-Jesus thighs and her big brown-skinned booty. She wiggled in front of him, then turned around and bent over. The thong was lost deep down the crack of that enormous ass.
“Help me take this off,” she said.
He reached out a hand to that bounteous booty.
She wiggled and jiggled it, and he heard her say, “Not with your hand. With your teeth.”
The view from behind as he set about rescuing the thong. The twin honey brown loaves. Fresh-baked morning buns. The golden winking eye of her tightly puckered ass. The meaty lips from behind. Seashell red. Pouting, drooling lips. He plunged in with lips and tongue. He licked. He sucked. He bit and chewed. His mouth filled up and he drooled. It was so beautiful. She mewed with lust, and she fed him. Slapped his face with her delicious back end.
The dealer, Docta Love came to learn, tasted sweet in all of her parts.
The good Docta Love, the dealer came to learn, had a weakness for sweetness and a vigor that matched her own.
He ripped off his clothes. Flipped her over. Climbed over her. Inverted. Placed his dick over her mouth. Placed his mouth over her dark patch of hair curling up her stomach. A golden-brown button of flesh sticking up out of it.
He put his mouth on her clit. He felt her inhale his dick into her mouth.
“Ohhhhh,” he said.
“Uuuuuuhhh,” she said.
“This is the best kiss ever,” he said.
“Your dick tastes so good. It’s so fucking big,” she said. “Uuuuuuhhh.”
“I told you it was big,” he laughed. Lapping at her cunt. Her sweet-smelling cunt.
“Almost as big as my husband’s,” she laughed.
“Bitch,” he said, lapping at her cunt with a fervor. Sliding a finger into that slippery hole. Sliding toward that special spot. Finding it. Rapid rubbing now. Expert licking now. Lap that clit. Rub the basement of that pussy. Rub faster. Two fingers now. Rub faster. Harder.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh shit, uh shit, like that, like that, uh shit, uh, uh watch out
, watch out,” she warned. Shaking her thighs. Trying to rub her thighs together. “I’m gonna cum. I cum wet. You better move your face. I cum wet.”
Despite her warning, he rubbed. Rubbed faster. Pressured that clit. He felt her body clench. Knees came up. Stomach tightened. She gum-vised his dick.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, there it is, there it is, baby, uh, uh, uh, I’m embarrassed. Uh, uh, uh. Uh, shit.”
Her body convulsed. He pulled back and watched with delicious delight as her pussy gushed its river onto the satin sheets of the hotel bed.
She howled. She laughed.
She twisted and rolled. She crawled over him. Kissed his chest. His muscular arms. His neck. His face. She grabbed his mouth with her lips.
He grabbed her ass. She grabbed his dick. Got on it.
Began to ride.
It was some kiss. It was some ride.
When he came, she said, “I want you on top.”
She gave him a half hour to rest, then she positioned herself on the bed and he climbed over. It was another live fuck. He fucked her like a bull. She bucked like a bronco. He fucked her until she soaked the sheets again.
When he came, she said, “I want to do doggy-style.”
“Hold on, baby,” he laughed. “Gotta rest up.”
“Well, hurry up,” she laughed. “I have to get home soon. I have a husband, you know?”
After his rest was over, she got up on her hands and knees and pushed her delightful booty against him. His dick was having slight technical difficulties.
“Shit,” she said, turning. “Give him here.”
“I can do it,” he said, jacking it like a long wet rope. “I can do it.”
She laughed. “Give him here.”
She took his dick into her mouth. Sucked. It helped. Somewhat. She shoved a finger up his ass. His eyes rolled.
She grinned. “See? I always get mine.”
It was erect, and he got behind her and did his business, and he did it well.
Her pussy was slopping wet. He reached and grabbed a handful of her hair. He did that for about a hundred strokes. Then he reached and grabbed a handful of tiddy in each hand.
She screamed, “Uh, uh, uuuuuuuhhhh, you’re the best, you’re the best, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum,” all the way through it.
When it was done, she said, “I know what you want.”
“I want to rest.”
She laughed. Reached down and grabbed his dick. She sang it now: “I know what you want.”
He sang back, “I want to rest.”
She jacked his long soft dick. “I know what you want. I know. I know.”
“Baby, you are killing me. I’m only human.”
“I know you want my ass. You want to fuck me in the ass. It is the curse of the woman with the big booty. Everybody wants to fuck her in the ass.”
That ass. Docta Love felt a chill course through him.
She felt his dick grow rock hard in her hand.
“Well, I wasn’t gonna ask you, but since you brought it up,” he said.
She rolled over on her stomach. She still had his rock-hard dick in her hand. He got up on his knees. His hands were on her asscheeks, spreading them. Lubricating the hole with his hungry wet mouth. Probing, first, with a wet finger.
“Just be gentle,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Don’t make it hurt too much.”
“Okay.”
“I trust you. I trust you.”
“God, you gotta big ass.”
“Oh, god.”
“Big ass.”
“Ouch. Ouch. Oh, god. Ouch. Ow. Ow. Ow. Oooohhhhh.”
“Don’t clinch up. Yeah, like that.”
“Ooooohhhh.”
“Like that. Relax.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay. That’s okay. That’s good. That’s okay.”
“Yeah. Relax.”
“Ooooohhhh. Mmmmmmm.”
“Like that. See?”
“Mmmmmmmmmmm.”
At the end of the night, when the dealer came out of the shower and slipped back into her undergarments, all of her lips were quite worn out, so to speak, from “the kiss.”
She dressed wordlessly as he watched her from the bed. His black Stetson rested on a pillow. One of his socks was on the other pillow. The rest of his clothes were all over the room.
She was at the door clutching the last of the money in her fist, fifteen hundred dollars. She looked down at the money as she stood there at the door. Docta Love was worn out, but he had enough sense to know that he had to get up and go to her.
He went to her and put his arms around her. She smelled nice. She felt so good. She was beautiful. Beautiful little PR. He lifted her face and kissed her.
“What are you thinking?” he said.
“I had a good time.”
“Me too.”
“You’re a good kisser,” she joked.
“You too.”
“I need to get home now.”
“Yes. To your family. To your man.”
They kissed again. She was not moving, so he kept holding her. Kissing her.
“What are you thinking?” he said.
“Nothing,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around the casino.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m a gambler. It’s what I do.”
She touched his face. “Kiss number three was a good kiss.”
“The best kiss of all.”
“I’m glad I did it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He kissed her again.
Then he blew a kiss after her as she left the room.
As she left the room, she was thinking, I should have told him the truth. He hit my spot. He rocked it. I think I could love him. I should have told him the truth: I have no children and I am not married. I have a boyfriend, sort of, but he does not count because I know he’s still sleeping with his ex. I don’t have my own house. I still live with my parents, but their bathroom is a mess, and I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces after I remodel it. Gothic mirrors. Italian tile. I am going to hook it up for them.
And as he went back to lie down on the mess they had made of the bed in the anonymous hotel room, Docta Love was thinking, Jesus, what a beautiful girl. That had to be the livest pussy I ever had. If she wasn’t married, I would be all over that. Why is it the good ones are always married? Her husband is one lucky dude, going to bed with her every night. I hope he appreciates what he’s got. It’s gonna be a while before I get this one outta my system. Lord, Jesus, it’s gonna be a while.
FOR NITA
Jolie du Pre
Janice glanced around. Touches of gold paint accented the white ceiling molding—a nice idea for her own apartment. If she could have stolen that framed Greek garden print bolted above the desk, she would. Who likes hotel room pictures? Nobody. But this one was lovely.
She looked down at Derek. Though still asleep, he stretched his body, causing his strong chest to rise a little and then lower. The sheet covered the bottom half of him. Janice wanted to pull it down and take another look.
She studied his face, dark brown, with the longest lashes she had ever seen. He looked peaceful sleeping next to her. That’s how she would describe it, peaceful.
She positioned herself more comfortably against the headboard and tried to block out yet another image of her husband. Charles would kill her if he knew.
Nevertheless, a slight smile crept onto her face. She looked over at the mahogany desk that sat next to the plush baby blue chair. Those would look great in her apartment, too. Her own apartment, with her own pictures and her own furniture—and no Charles.
Janice placed her hand on Derek’s chest, which was smooth, with barely any hair. He opened his eyes, which startled Janice and made her pull her hand back.
“Hey, girl!”
“Hey, yourself.”
He turned toward her. She lowered herself down, facing him. There was no hesitation as she placed her arm
s around his frame. He pushed in closer to her and put his lips on her neck, kissing it. The scent she had splashed on her body last night now mixed with the lingering smell of sex and male musk.
Derek was built, every muscle developed. Yet his skin was as soft as the butter rolls she loved to bake. His cock, large and stiff, poked her leg. She reached down and grabbed it.
“Mmmm…you tryin’ to start something?” he whispered.
“Maybe.”
He put his lips on one of her large breasts, drawing the nipple into his mouth, then licking it slowly. Janice closed her eyes.
Another image of Charles invaded her thoughts, and his face was right there. But it faded as Derek’s strong tongue traveled to her other breast.
Charles had grown fond of calling Janice lazy in the last couple of months. It was in addition to the other names he had for her: fat, stupid. “You’re too stupid to leave me,” he’d say.
It was no secret how unhappy she was. And there were many times when she could have made a break, but she didn’t. She stayed and took it, like the victim of a schoolyard bully.
Charles would glare at her, the lines on his caramel-colored face deep with frustration. “Go get me a beer.” “Get your ass in the kitchen and make my dinner.” “Who are you talking to? Get off the damn phone.”
Sometimes he called her “tired looking.” But behind those steel gray eyes, she knew he really saw her as ugly and fat.
Fifteen months. That’s how long it had been since she and Charles had had sex. And even before that, the spontaneity and freshness that they knew before was gone.
The ladies at the boutique convinced her to buy the red negligee. Charles liked red and the color worked well with her copper skin tone. They told her looking sexy helped a marriage.
When she put it on and joined Charles in bed, for a moment, there was sparkle in those gray eyes. But not even an hour later, it was gone.
Derek brought his face to Janice’s. His long lashes framed big brown eyes that were full of lust and desire for her. He kissed her slowly at first, but Janice increased the speed, moving her lips faster and darting her tongue in and out of his mouth.
Janice had been friends with Nita as far back as first grade. She was her closest friend and they talked about everything. Consequently, Nita knew all about her relationship with Charles and the lack of sex. Nita had said fifteen months was too long. Way too long. And she had been right.