Between the Sheets (9781476775807)

by Cairo

  My ass lifts slightly up off the bed and Nairobia cups and squeezes it, hungrily feasting on my flowing honey. Sweet and thick and heated.

  Marsha Ambrosius’ “Tears” plays. Nairobia hums the tune into my cunt, her curling tongue-tricks causing me to claw at the sheets.

  Oh, how I love coming in a woman’s loving mouth, on her sensual tongue, over her sumptuous lips. If I could, if I were to, ever fall in love with a woman, Nairobia would be the type of woman to capture my heart. Sensual and raw and rough. Feminine, bold, and deliciously aggressive.

  I close my eyes and get lost in the wet, smacking sounds of her mouth. Get lost in the wetness of my dripping cunt.

  “Oooh, yes,” I whisper.

  My nipples tighten as she licks over my sweet pussy again. I grow wetter over her tongue, bathing her in sensual heat.

  My breaths come quickly as I glance over at Marcel. Behold his bare chest, packed with rigid slabs of muscle. His flat stomach muscles ripple as he takes in the view. His veined length bobs and pulses as a bead of nectar clings to the head of his dick, glistening in the glow of candlelight.

  Marcel leans forward and extends his tongue and licks his precum.

  My mouth opens, drools, for a little taste of him.

  He watches.

  He touches himself.

  His nipples.

  His balls.

  His cock.

  My nipples pucker tighter. Ache to be sucked. Long to be pinched.

  “Spread your thighs wider,” Nairobia commands, rising above me, then positioning herself between them. Her eyes flash with excitement.

  I blink up at her. Cupping my breasts from the bottom, she nearly circles them with her soft hands. Avoiding my nipples, she lightly kneads them, then tightens her grip on my breasts and my skin heats as they begin to swell.

  “Mmm…oooh…lick ’em,” I beg.

  Nairobia lowers her head; her mouth barely touching my skin, her breath laps over the sensitive tips, causing me to arch to her, begging and panting, as she slides her hot creamy sex over my mine; silky smooth, sensual skin pooling in juices.

  Sweet heaven.

  She nips her way up my neck to my ear, then kisses a line down my jaw, then back to my ear. She nibbles softly at my lobe and then sucks it into her lush mouth. Her body against mine, she has my pussy and ass on fire; every inch of my flesh inflamed.

  God how I love the touch of a woman.

  Pleasure rips through me and I fight back a scream.

  Clit to clit, I arch into the flames as Liv Warfield sings about her soul lifting to a higher place. Nairobia grinds into me, her wet cunt dissolving into mine, melting like liquid silk. Smooth and warm.

  It’s a sweet torture.

  Excruciating arousal.

  Rapture.

  The sheets beneath me are soaked. Soaked by need. Soaked by want. Soaked by unbridled hunger and passion.

  I let out a moan. Glide my hands down Nairobia’s back as she kisses me, stroking her tongue deeply over mine, allowing me to taste my sticky juices, to savor the sweet musk clinging on her tongue, drenched on her lips.

  Mouthwatering cunt.

  Hot and juicy.

  And on fire.

  Grinding and bucking.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Marcel says huskily. “Grind them pussies together. J’aime l’odeur de vos chattes humides.”

  I moan as he tells us how he loves the smell of our wet cunts. How he wants to fuck himself deep into our wetness.

  Nairobia lowers her mouth, letting her breaths torment my already throbbing peaks. She darts her tongue to flick kisses along the sides, swirling it all around my areola, purposefully, methodically, neglecting my nipples.

  My back bows to get closer to her mouth. “Suck them,” I rasp out. “Please.”

  “Like this?” she murmurs, wrapping her lips around the tip, wetting it, licking it, then blowing on it before languidly moving on to the other.

  For the love of God…

  “Nairobia…” Pupils dilated, voice flooded with lust, I beg. Whimper. “Fuck me. Please.”

  “Is your sweet pussy horny for me?”

  “Y-yes,” I push out breathlessly. “It’s so horny for your mouth, your tongue, your fingers.”

  She grinds harder. Her hips move rhythmically to India.Arie’s “Beautiful.” I thrust up into her, moan into her, latching onto one of her swaying breasts, sucking her nipple into my wet, juicy mouth.

  Nairobia groans, her hand slinking between us, her long finger finding its way to my clit. I dig my nails into her ass.

  “Mmm. Zo nat. Zo heet. Zo lief,” she murmurs. “So wet. So hot. So sweet.”

  Yes, yes, yes…

  “Yeah, baby,” Marcel urges, his voice thick with heat. “Grab that fat, juicy ass. I wanna run my dick all up in that.”

  Nairobia moans and kisses her way back down to my breasts, tonguing my left nipple into a rigid peak before suckling my right nipple into her hot mouth. She licks, then sucks, then nips, pushing me closer to nirvana. One finger, two fingers, then three, then four, then five.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  “Yes, fuck my pussy,” I whisper before sucking in my breath and reveling in the sensation. Burning. Stretching.

  “Oooh, yessss…Aaaah, yesss…fuck me. Mmm, yes, yes, yes…”

  Amel Larrieux’s “For Real” plays and the room goes blurry around me as my orgasm builds and builds, tightening and coiling in my belly. I squeeze my eyes shut. Curl my fingers into tight fists. Grind my teeth. Oh God, I can’t take much more of this. I am stretched tight over her fingers. My ass bucks. My pussy clenches. Unclenches.

  It aches.

  It throbs.

  I need dick.

  Marcel’s dick.

  I need to be fucked.

  Want to be fucked.

  Marcel fucking me; and fucking her, alternately, filling me, and filling her, with his cream.

  Everything I am heats and burns, starting at the balls of my feet, then roaring upward. My ass. My pussy. My clit. My belly. My breasts. My skin.

  Embroiled in desire.

  I am floating. Dangling over the edge of delirium.

  Marcel groans. The rapid slap-slap of his dick sliding in and out of the palm of his hand, up and down his shaft, he grunts and stands; dips at the knees.

  “I’m about to bust this nut. Aaah, shit, motherfuck…I’m ready to get up in that pussy, yo…”

  Then in one swift move, I am on my back and Nairobia is turned around to straddle my head. She murmurs in Dutch, “Maken graag mijn kut. Voeden mijn poesje je tong. Make love to my cunt. Feed my pussy your tongue.”

  She lowers her heat against my lips. My fingers spread her wet lips, and I open my mouth and feast, greedily tonguing her.

  She spasms around my tongue and fingers, causing me to gasp.

  Marcel is hovering over us. His balls swinging back and forth as he brings himself to the edge. “Yeah, baby…eat that pussy…”

  He reaches over and slaps Nairobia’s ass.

  She moans loudly, then fucks into my mouth and sucks on my clit, her fingers fucking into my dewy slit.

  My eyes glaze.

  I am coming.

  She is coming.

  Marcel is coming.

  Delirious with pleasure, I drink in Nairobia’s steamy juices; sucking and sucking and sucking, feeding my need; swallowing her in.

  Every last drop…

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Marcel

  I’m sitting behind the keyboards at the studio—eyeing one of the engineers as he maneuvers a few levers up and down the expensive equipment with his headphones over his ears, rhythmically nodding his head to a beat—when my cell rings.

  I glance at Carlos through the glass as he plays the piano in the booth. It’s a little after midnight. We’ve been here for the past four hours working on the tracks to his new album, Seduction. And so far the shit is sounding sexy as fuck.

  “What’s good, baby�
��?” I get up from the system and walk over into the lounge area.

  “Thinking about you,” Marika says all low ‘n’ sexy.

  I grin. “Oh, word? I’ve been thinking about you, too. How was the Empowerment luncheon?”

  “It was great. The whole day has been very inspiring and encouraging. It’s nice to see so many women from all ages and walks of life coming together.”

  I smile, nodding my head. “Word. That’s wassup, baby. I wish I could be there with you.”

  “I wish you were here, too. I do understand, though. Duty calls. But you’re here in mind and spirit.”

  “No doubt. And I’ma be deep in that body soon as you bring ya sexy ass home.”

  “Oooh, I love the sound of that. Promise?”

  “Oh, it’s most def a promise,” I say low and deep. “You already know. So whatchu gettin’ into the rest of the night?”

  “They’re having a private reception party here in one of the ballrooms. Then I might head to the lounge for a nightcap before turning in.”

  “Oh, aiight. No slot machines?”

  “Already played.”

  I chuckle knowingly. Marika digs playing the penny machines. That’s all she’ll fuck with. She’ll take a grand and sit all night playing three machines in a row until one of them hits. Then she’ll cash out and spin off. But me? I’ma run them tables. I’ll drop ten grand—my max, and play them shits to win.

  “I won sixteen hundred,” she says coolly.

  “That’s what’s up, baby.” I laugh. “Now you can take ya man out to lunch.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” She wants to know where I am. I tell her at the studio with Carlos. “Oh, tell that fine man I said hello. I can’t wait to hear the new album.”

  “Yeah, it’s gonna be a real panty soaker, for sure.”

  “Ooh, I bet. I’m really glad you signed him.”

  “No doubt. Me too. But enough about that. You miss me, baby?”

  “Always,” she says softly.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “You miss me?”

  I smirk. “Yeah, what you think? You didn’t give me any pussy this morning. Left up outta the crib mad early leaving my dick all dry ‘n’ shit.”

  She laughs. “I gave you some last night?”

  “Yeah, aiight. What that got to do with this morning, huh? See. You stay on that BS. You know this dick needs its morning dose of that wet-wet.”

  She laughs. “Horny man, you. Is that all you ever think about?”

  I grin. “Nah, I think about that wet throat, and that phat, juicy ass. But you already know how much I love that wet, tight pussy.”

  She moans. “Yeah, I do. But let me hear it again, anyway.”

  “I miss that sweet, wet pussy, baby.”

  “Mmmm. And what are you going to do with it?”

  “C’mon, baby. Don’t start that shit. You know I’m in the studio.”

  “And? When has that ever stopped you?”

  I smirk, shaking my head. “Yo, you terrible. You know that, right?”

  She’s not fazed by the comment. “What are you going to do with this wet pussy, Marcel?” Her voice is low and sexy.

  “Yo, c’mon, stop playing. You already know.”

  “I want to hear it, Marcel. Make my pussy purr, daddy. Tell me what you want to do to it.”

  I lick my lips. “Shit. I can’t wait for you to get home so I can get you up in them sheets so I can slide my tongue all up between them sweet lips and suck on that clit, then slow-fuck this hard dick into you. Damn, baby. I wanna lick, tongue, and fuck it down, period, point blank.” I grab my dick. “Fuck. Just talking about it, got my shit on rock. I need my dick sucked.”

  She laughs. “You’re so bad.”

  “I stay fuckin’ horny for you, yo.”

  “I know you do, baby,” she coos. “Ooh, I have to go.” She sucks her teeth. “Now I have to go back up and change my panties. You have me soaked. I hate when you do this to me.”

  “Nah, you love it.”

  She sighs. “Yeah, when I know it’s going to be followed by a hard dick and a delicious fuck.”

  I reach down and squeeze the head of my dick. “Shit. How you think I feel, baby? Now I gotta go back up around a buncha muhfuckas with my shit stretchin’ down my leg.”

  She teases. “Baby, stop. You love it when the boys glance down and see all that dick. Admit it. You’re a cock tease. You love seeing the look on their faces.”

  “Hahahahahaha. Yo, you shot out, baby. But, uh, no comment.”

  She joins in my laughter. “Uh-huh. None needed.”

  “Yeah, well, your wet tongue is needed on this hard dick.”

  She moans. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home tomorrow. Promise. In the meantime send me a video of you sucking and playing with that big, beautiful dick. I need something to get me through the night.”

  I pull in my bottom lip. “Word? That’s what you want, baby?”

  “No. I want the real thing,” she says, causing the head of my dick to swell. “But for now I’ll take what I can get.”

  I grin. “I got you, sexy.” I glance over at the booth again. Carlos is still in there doing his thing. “But, dig. What’s it looking like down there? Any eye candy?”

  She chuckles. “You know I’m strictly dickly.”

  I smirk, glancing over my shoulder. “Yeah, aiight. Maybe ninety percent of the time.” I laugh. “But the other ten percent you on pussy patrol. Clit stalking. Who you fooling? You know I know.”

  “Oh, hush,” she chides playfully. “I can’t stand you.”

  “Yeah, aiight. Keep lying to ya’self. You can’t live without me.”

  “I wouldn’t want to,” she says softly.

  I smile inside. “Aaah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. So tell me. What them beauties looking like? Anyone catch your eye on the low?”

  She chuckles. “There were a few who I’d say could get it.”

  I pull in my bottom lip. “Damn. All that sweet pussy in one spot.”

  “But none as sweet as mine.”

  It isn’t a question. Marika already knows what it is. Still, I know enough to make it clear. “Oh, you already know, baby.”

  “Mmhmm. I thought so.” She laughs. “Ohmygod! Wait! You are not going to believe this. Guess who’s here?”

  I take a seat on the sofa and prop a foot up on the wood table. “Who?”

  “Ramona. And I almost didn’t recognize her. She’s dyed her hair a fuchsia color.”

  I furrow my brow. “Who is that?” She tells me the Spanish chick we fucked the night of Laila’s album release party. I frown, a mixture of surprise and befuddlement on my face, followed by flashes of that night. It’s been over a month since we rocked in the sheets with her. I swallow back a rush of filthy thoughts flooding my brain. I grab at my dick. “Yo, get the fuck outta here. Word? What the fuck is she doing there? And why you calling her Ramona? I thought her name was Maribel or some shit like that.”

  “Marisol,” Marika corrects. “She first said her name was Marisol. But today her nametag said Ramona. And she claims she was invited.”

  “Interesting. Did she come at you crazy?”

  “Surprisingly, not. She was as sweet as pie.”

  “Yo, let me find out she’s stalking you, now.”

  “Ohmygod. Don’t say that. It’s an isolated incident, MarSell. Let’s not blow it out of proportion. I haven’t heard from her since the flower and phone call incident. You know I told you I thought she was a little off that night we had her, but…”

  “But now you think she isn’t?”

  “I’m not saying that. Maybe I was a bit presumptive. After all, it isn’t like either of us has heard from her since I kindly asked her to leave us alone.”

  I raise a brow. “True.” Come to think of it, she hasn’t called into the radio station either on Thursday nights.

  “Besides, she seemed really surprised to see me here when she wa
lked over and gave me a big hug.”

  “Mmm. I don’t know, baby. Something doesn’t sound right.”

  “Although I could have done without the hug, I don’t want to turn this into more than what it is. Whatever that is. I kept it cordial. But then right after the luncheon, she turns around and sends me a friend request on Facebook.”

  I shoot up in my seat. “She did what? Yo, now she’s tryna be on some ole other shit.”

  “I went onto Facebook and saw it with my own eyes. I didn’t accept her, though. But I think she’s following me instead.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I shake my head. “Yo, she’s fucking buggin’.”

  “I don’t mean it like that, silly. I meant on Twitter.”

  “Yeah, well, I did.”

  “Well, she hasn’t said or done anything to cause alarm. Maybe it’s coincidence that she’s here.”

  Yeah, right. Coincidence my ass, maybe that ho’s cat-shit crazy. “And she just happens to hit you up with a friend request, too, right? Yeah, okay.”

  “Maybe. I mean, after all, my contact info was in the packets everyone received.”

  “Nah, I don’t know. That shit doesn’t sit right, babe.”

  “Don’t go getting all CSI on me. She seemed harmless,” Marika offers calmly. “Worst-case scenario, she asks for another round in the sheets with us, and I have to kindly shut her down, again.”

  “Or her ass’s really a fuckin’ nutcase.” I let out a heavy breath. “You’re awfully calm about this, though.”

  “That’s because I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I’m taking your advice and not letting her get in my head. I’m not saying I trust her. But she did apologize for how she came at me.”

  “Yo, the last thing we need in our lives is some crazy-ass broad tryna turn up. But I’m thinkin’ this chick might become a muthafuckin’ problem.”

  Why the fuck it seem like most of the broads with the killer pussy are fuckin’ psycho-ass whack-jobs?!

  Marika sighs. “Let’s hope not.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Marika

  “Your pussy tasted so sweet on my tongue…”

  That’s what that crazy-bitch had said to me as I drained my wineglass.

  Okay, so maybe I should’ve listened to my gut and gone straight up to my suite, instead of going to the Ultra Lounge here at the hotel. But I didn’t. Instead I found myself sitting in a leather chair with my third drink in my hand and a spectacular view of the Atlantic Ocean, talking to Ramona, or Marisol, or whoever she is—who, admittedly, is a beautiful woman.