Making the Hook-Up

by Cole Riley

  He didn’t move anything except his hands. They curved around my body and settled on my hips. I pushed my bottom against him and felt his thickness. His cock was lodged in the small of my back, since I’m not a tall woman. I moved sensuously against him, feeling the wetness gather like dew in between my legs. He made a small sound deep in his throat, almost like a moan. Yes.

  I wanted him inside me, now! It wasn’t thought but lust that compelled me as I turned around swiftly and leaned back against the counter. I pulled the end of my belt and let my robe fall open. The guy looked stunned, as if I’d just slapped him. His eyes narrowed and his face slightly reddened. I let my gaze drop to assess the effect below his belt. Satisfactory, very satisfactory.

  “My girlfriend is back at my apartment waiting for the milk,” he mumbled.

  I felt my face burn as I drew my robe together and pulled the belt tight. For once, I take the dive to boldly seduce a guy and see what happens. So much for my brother’s pronouncement of looks, brains and attitude; I felt ugly, stupid and ashamed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, making it even worse. He just stood there.

  “Go on,” I said, anger surging within me. I gave him a little push.

  The milk hit the linoleum with a soft thud, much softer than the sound of the liquid that erupted and splashed me from head to toe with a frigid shock of whiteness. I jumped in pure reflex and my feet slid out from under me. Scrambling gracelessly for a moment, I landed at his feet, my robe wide open, naked body exposed and legs splayed in a V.

  I couldn’t move, just lay there breathing hard, feeling the wet greasiness of the milk drip off my chin and nose and trickle into every crevice of my body. Tears of humiliation welled up in my eyes.

  Then I heard a wimpy female voice call out from my front door. “Rick? Excuse me, is Rick there?”

  “Shit,” he said. “That’s her.” He ran a hand through his hair and straightened up.

  Then I heard her step through the door. What was wrong with the bitch, just walking into somebody’s house?

  “Shit,” Rick said again, and strode out of the kitchen. “Here I am,” he called just as sweet as you please, as if a naked woman who’d tried to seduce him wasn’t lying in a gallon of milk in the middle of her kitchen floor.

  “I wondered what happened to you,” she whined. Well, maybe she didn’t exactly whine, but I hated her voice anyway. She sounded like one of those helpless flighty women, her voice light and whispery like she was pretending to be a child.

  “I was helping this lady, she fell,” he said.

  “Oh, no, is she all right? You just left her there?”

  I heard her walking toward me. I flopped over and raised myself up on all fours. Lord, I was sore. I’d fallen hard.

  “She’s okay, let’s go.” I pictured him tugging her toward the door.

  “Rick, how could you?”

  I pulled myself up on the counter. At least, the girl seemed concerned.

  “How could you leave without the milk?” she asked.

  “She didn’t have any.” I heard him answer.

  To my extreme relief, it seemed like they were going to get out of my apartment. I straightened up and pivoted—and hit the floor again in the spilled milk. I don’t know what happened. One second I was on my feet, the next I was back on the floor wallowing in milk. I let out a squeak, but the thud of my body hitting the floor echoed through the apartment.

  She came rushing in, Rick at her heels. She was blonde, petite and had a passing resemblance to Meg Ryan with curly hair. She gave a swift intake of breath as she took in my predicament, and my naked milk-covered body, my long dark hair plastered wetly to my breasts.

  She turned to Rick with an incredulous look. “What did you do? Throw her on the floor and pour a galloon of milk over her? You make me sick!” The words erupted from her mouth. I flinched back from her sudden vehemence. But it wasn’t me that she was screaming at; she stared at Rick, her baby blue eyes gone all hard and narrow. “All you think about is sex, sex, sex.” Her voice had transformed from a breathy whisper to something coarse and harsh.

  “I told you when we got married, we could do it every Saturday night, but no, you couldn’t wait, could you? How long have you been screwing that slut?”

  A look of sorrow crossed his face. “How could you believe I would cheat on you? I love you.”

  I wanted to puke.

  She really went at him with total fury. “Why didn’t you prove it, you rutting animal? Now I know why you didn’t buy me that tennis bracelet. You were spending all your money on her, you lying dog.”

  I was weary of all of this. “Take it out of my home,” I said. I would have stood up but didn’t want to risk falling again in the slippery milk until they left. I didn’t bother covering up, because what was the point now? Everybody had seen everything I had.

  “You heard her,” Rick said to his girlfriend. “Get out.”

  She looked at him, her eyes widening with disbelief. “What did you say to me?” Her voice had regained its baby tones.

  “I told you to get out.”

  She gave a little shriek and stormed out of the apartment.

  Rick turned to me. “Now, where were we?” he asked.

  “You were rejecting me because of your girlfriend,” I said angrily.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said.

  He pulled his sweater over his head and threw it behind him to the dry carpet. He followed it with his T-shirt. Not bad; he wasn’t bulked up but I could see the hint of strength in his arms. I liked his hairless chest; he was built like a swimmer. He slipped off his tennis shoes and his socks, and slid his jeans over his hips. He was a briefs, not boxers, type of guy.

  The milk had warmed up by now and felt like wet silk against my skin. He pulled off his boxers and I gasped. Eight inches rose from him with the glory of Venus emerging from the ocean. Damn, I don’t think even my dream man packed such an impressive load.

  He straddled me and leaned down. His tongue delicately lapped milk from one nipple and then the other. His balls grazed my belly and his rock-hard tool pointed upward to my breasts. I couldn’t stop the moan that emerged from my throat. My hips arched to him and I pulled my arms out of the sodden robe and reached for him, wanting him to sink his thick rod deep inside me.

  “Not so fast, lady,” he whispered.

  Then he kissed me. That man sure could kiss. Slow, easy, yet draining me dry of every drop of passion I had. When he raised his head, I was breathless.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Randy,” I answered.

  He chuckled. “Appropriate name.”

  Then he proceeded to show me how randy he could make me. He started at my throat. His tongue traced a milk trail, dipping into the hollows of my collarbone, tasting me in a lazy, teasing way. He swirled his tongue around my nipple, then sucked gently, pulling a sigh from deep within from me. My pussy was aching, needing, wanting. He moved slowly down to my belly button and sipped the milk that had welled within it.

  My hips rotated and my pussy had a mind of its own; it began to slide up, up to those delicious lips of his. I groaned when he finally kissed it and his tongue found my clit. He teased it a little, then plunged his tongue inside me, rotating it inside my sex. Oh, god. His mouth worried my clit, then his tongue went in and out and around my moist opening. I felt my stomach clench with the pressure of the impending explosion.

  Suddenly, he slid his body up mine in a smooth quick movement and impaled me with that glorious cock of his, pumping in and out of my hot slick tunnel. My knees gripped his hips, and I bucked wildly under him, my clit beating against the base of his cock while it slammed against my pussy. The explosion within me built beyond critical mass, and I imploded with a force I’d never experienced before, my cunt spasming against his rod in huge gulps. Shock waves crashed through me. My body went stiff, and I couldn’t breathe. The world went black for a moment.

  When it was over, I relaxed with a soft moan, fe
eling as if a giant had picked me up, wrung me out and left me limp. Rick drove into me again and again, abandoning himself to his own ecstasy. I felt him shudder and the hot spurts of him bathe me inside. So good. If that sorry-ass girlfriend of his had ever screwed him, I don’t see how she could have walked away from him.

  I must have said it aloud. My bad.

  “But I came back,” a feminine voice said from a few feet away.

  Rick jerked his head up and I craned my neck. Girlfriend was sitting on the carpet right outside of the milk-soaked kitchen where we lay. Buck naked, she sat there, her fingers working her blonde cunt furiously. Her eyes were fixed on me, and her little pink-tipped breasts heaved with her panting.

  “Get off of her,” she said to Rick, not taking her eyes off me. He complied and she moved to me and put her pussy square in my face.

  “You took my man. You owe me. Give it to me.” Her voice was raspy, her breath coming in short gasps.

  I nodded, everything clicking into place for me. I’ve always been the type to try anything once. I moved to her, grabbed her hips and flipped her over. Easing her ass into the milk, I noticed her body wasn’t bad—not as good as mine, but not bad. Her pussy was surrounded by neatly trimmed blonde hair. I had never done this before, but it shouldn’t be hard, I’d just give her what I liked.

  I circled my tongue around her clit, and soon I had her gasping. She was clean, with a healthy womanly scent. She tasted slightly salty. I glanced up at Rick as he sat in the milk, his hand on his cock, watching us with rapt eyes.

  I worked on her with my mouth for only a few minutes before I had her squirming as well as gasping. Making love to a woman was a piece of cake. I wondered why some people made such a big deal about how it was so hard to please a woman. A few flips of the tongue, and I had the blonde ready to be scraped off the ceiling.

  While the woman-on-woman thing wasn’t distasteful, it was boring. I took her to the edge, then not feeling exactly charitable toward her, I motioned for Rick to take my place. He dived in with much more enthusiasm than I had mustered. She moaned in a protesting way, but soon dropped back into the groove, her hips bucking up at his face. Suddenly, he plunged into her with his big cock. I love it like that, the feel of a man impaling me unannounced with his flesh.

  I’d just slipped my hand into my own wet pussy when her eyes blinked wide open and she started pummeling his shoulders. Nope, it wasn’t passion.

  “Get off me, you ruined it, that hurts, dammit!” She raked her nails across his face.

  He rolled off her, a look of sad shock on his face.

  She twisted her body and glared at me. “You had it going on and then you let him come in…”

  I turned to Rick and shook my head. Her problem wasn’t that she had a bad case of the sushi syndrome. “She’s not a cold fish who doesn’t want sex. It’s men she doesn’t want,” I told him. “Savvy?”

  I had to give it to him, he wasn’t dumb. His eyes narrowed and he stared at her and nodded slowly.

  “You don’t know me,” she said to me, her voice coarse and heavy again. “Who do you think you are to say what I am or not—bitch.”

  She spit out her words with venom. She pulled on her clothes quickly, heedless of the wet splotches of milk dampening them. “Are you coming, Rick?”

  Silence. She gave him a demanding glare, her face intense.

  A mocking smile formed. “Apparently not with you,” he said.

  “Fuck you, then,” she screamed and stormed out the door.

  I stood up and held out my hand to him. “Shower?” I asked.

  He took my hand. He was so hot that he could barely wait for the water to match his erotic heat. Once the water was spewing over our bodies, I dropped to my knees in front of his erect cock. I could barely get him all into my mouth. He tasted so good. I worked my mouth up his shaft slowly, rotating my tongue around the head of his cock. He was so much man. He grabbed my hair and groaned, thrusting into my open lips. I felt him grow so big. My pussy was on fire. I wanted him to explode. I wanted his come in my mouth. I sucked and licked him, grabbing him with both hands. He trembled throughout his entire body and stiffened. Then he came, big creamy spurts that I could barely swallow fast enough.

  He had collapsed against the shower walls when I thought I heard someone else and pulled back the shower curtain. Sure enough, there she was, fully clothed this time. This heifer was hard to shake; she kept coming back like some sort of boomerang.

  Rick looked at her and groaned. “Jesus, I thought you were gone.”

  She was staring at me again. “You were right,” she said, ignoring Rick. “I do like women and I really like you. Maybe we can get together sometime. I’d do anything for you.”

  She looked so pitiful. I felt sorry for her. “I’ll let you know,” I said. “Tell you what, why don’t you go and clean up that milk on the kitchen floor while I think about it?”

  She nodded meekly and left the bathroom.

  “Are you going to…?” Rick started to ask, looking shocked.

  “I might do her a favor here and there if she works hard enough. Maybe I’ll even order her to fuck you once in a while. Would you like that?”

  He nodded, looking dazed.

  I looked at his flaccid, thick cock and then at him. “Why don’t you go and lie down on my bed? Take a little nap, regain your strength. God knows you’re going to need it.”

  Like I said before, he wasn’t dumb. “Good idea,” he said, a little smile on his lips.

  RAIN

  Kweli Walker

  Yanni? Don’t you think it’s time we meet?” His voice was ocean deep and butter soft, warm and wild with need.

  “Yes.”

  Yes…after waking her at two in the morning with, “Sorry, I have the wrong number.”

  Yes…after months of long daily discussions about everything from the Challenger spacecraft explosion and Dogon Cosmology, to global warming and its effect on the migration of monarch butterflies. Together they had analyzed Toni Morrison’s metaphors in Love and A Mercy, and contemplated Picasso’s “borrowing” horned figures from the Afro-Cuban artist, Wilfredo Lam. Religion and politics were the flesh and bone of their most lengthy and heated debates. Art talks were dessert.

  Yes…after months of her harsh rules:

  1. No calling between the hours of 7:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., or after 11:00 p.m.

  2. No personal questions.

  3. No photo exchanges.

  4. No requests to “upgrade” from platonic to committed anything.

  5. No sex.

  Yes…even after he broke every single rule in the last week alone. He called whenever he chose, brazenly asked whatever he wanted to know and, in open defiance, sent her a sepia-on-silver photo of himself: phone pinned between his shoulder and jaw, completely nude, stroking his thick gleaming penis arched high above his taut fist. From the time and date on the digital atomic clock, he had clearly been talking to her. The subtle beauty was that the photo had been taken during their first serious conversation about sex. The sight of his muscled body, slight love handles and all, sent her fingers fluttering wildly into the moist folds and hungry crevices of her body.

  At the time of the photographed call, Aden had been describing a hand-carved bench he purchased from a Ghanaian artist who had lived in Japan. It had been expertly designed by a master carver to provide an exotic array of sexual pleasures—a long boat-shaped hole in the center for adventurous sucking and fucking of blood-engorged pussies and dicks.

  It had been thundering and lightning for an hour. Finally, a powerful storm began pummeling the earth. Its ancient fragrance filled the air.

  “I remember you saying how you hate the rain. I’d be happy to come to you. Would you like me to bring the bench?”

  “Yes. Aden, I don’t really hate rain. I just don’t like driving in it and thunder and lightning makes me…well…a little nervous.” Rain made her nervous, thunder and lightning terrified her, but nothing was coming between
that gorgeous deep chocolate man in the photo and Yanni Roberts’s pussy…but that hand-carved bench. Nothing!

  “May I have the directions?”

  “Yes.”

  Halfway to her house, he called her on his cell. “You nervous about meeting? We can do it another time if you’re uncomfortable with this.”

  “I’m fine, Aden,” she said with the splatter from the shower-head splashing her body behind the beautifully etched heron in the glass of her shower door. “I’m just…”

  “Wondering?”

  “Yeah, wondering.”

  “…if we’re going to destroy something great by having sex?”

  “That’s always a possibility, Aden. What do you think?”

  “I have the strongest feeling this is going to be the best decision either of us has ever made.”

  “What if I’m too…?”

  He answered for her, “Too evil in the morning, or when you get interrupted?”

  “Yeah,” she chuckled, “I know I have a tendency to snap, when provoked.”

  “I can handle that, but do you think you can handle me being too…”

  She said warmly, “Too smart? Too witty? Too sweet? Too kind? Too…fuckin’ persistent?” He smiled. She had only seen part of his smile in the photo, but she had felt them hundreds of times, like a sightless person senses a red light, a crowd, or a curb.

  “Well, what if you don’t like the way I look in person? You haven’t seen my whole face, you know.”

  “Please…let’s not even entertain that kind of shallow bullshit, Aden. I’ve thought about this long and hard. I don’t care what you look like.”

  “Well, what if my head is too big or I’m too short for you, or something?”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Do you eat pussy or is it against your religion?”

  “Yes, I do! And you just might want to make sure that your drywall guy’s number is handy.”