"I mean it, baby."
"Maybe thirty pounds lighter--"
He pressed his index finger to her lips, stopping her in midsentence. "Don't, Shauna. I wouldn't change a thing about your appearance, and I'd be disappointed if you did."
She kissed his finger, took his hand and pressed it against her cheek, closing her eyes. "Thank-you."
"Anyway," he said, "besides that, I'd have to say it's your heart."
She pondered this quietly for a moment. "You mean my personality?"
He shrugged. "That's part of it. You're the most tender-hearted person I've ever met. It shows up in how you interact with your daughter; how you talk about stuff in nature; even how you treat strangers. You've got this kind of..." He frowned, eyes roaming around the room. "It's like this quiet dignity you project. And your very strong inside, but also...." He shrugged again. "I want to protect you."
She burrowed into him and kissed the back of his hand. Was all of this really happening? A little voice in the back of her soul said, "Don't ever let this man go. Ever."
It was too soon to be having these kind of feelings. Or was it?
If it was, it was certainly too soon to be sleeping with him.
But she felt no guilt or sadness like she had, afterwards, with the other ones.
"I feel safe with you, Miles," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Seems like you're still kinda' embarrassed to be seen with me in public," he said.
Shauna stiffened, slightly. "No I'm not!"
"Seems like it."
She chewed on her lip for a moment. "I'm reserved. Discreet. It doesn't mean I'm embarrassed."
"Were you so reserved and discreet with your other boyfriends?"
Shauna was rescued from answering by his telephone. It was an old receiver-on-the-cradle type phone. Who still used those, anyway?
Miles picked up. "Yeah? Hey, wazzup, Frank? Really? Congrats, dude! Um, wait a minute..." He covered the receiver with his hand and turned to Shauna. "My friend is throwing an impromptu party. You wanna go?"
"I'm not really a party-type girl," she said.
"His party's are cool. And we don't have to stay long. He just wants to celebrate because his music video is out and it's debuting on MTV."
She wondered if there would be drugs, claustrophobic crowds, and if she'd be the only black person there.
"Frank?" Miles said, without waiting for her to make up her mind. "We'll be there. Need us to bring anything? Okay. What? No. The girl I told you about. Yeah, really."
When he hung up, Shauna fixed him with her sternest, most indignant glare. "Hello? Does my opinion count for anything here?"
"Of course it does," he said. "It's gonna be fun. Frank's a great guy; throws great parties."
"Miles, I didn't bring party clothes. I don't know anybody there--"
He interrupted her with a succulent kiss. "If you don't like it, we can leave right after the music video."
Shauna was, in fact, the only black person at the party...though there were Asians and Hispanics in attendance...but she liked Frank. He put her quickly at ease with a sort of casual goofiness.
The house was of mid-1960s construction, she guessed, and had a dated bachelor pad atmosphere about it like some party pit from an Elvis movie. The back yard was to die for--kidney-shaped swimming pool surrounded by a tiled patio, with a fantastic view of the cityscape.
Miles seldom let her get farther than arm's reach. It seemed to be concern for her comfort in a house full of strangers, rather than any possessiveness on his part. Anyway, it did make her feel comfortable to have him close like that. She accepted a sloe gin phiz and nursed it sparingly, while Miles limited himself to one beer. They indulged liberally in the snacks available, feeding each other fruit and nuts huddled close together on the couch while music videos played on the big screen TV.
After an epidemic of anticipatory shushing from the partiers and a subsequent lull in the din, Frank's video came on. It was an interesting, creative piece with bright colors and unorthodox angles, which actually told a little story rather than just showing different shots of the band performing. The band was unusually clean-cut, playing something like heavy metal, but without all the screaming and distortion. When it was over, Miles broke contact with Shauna to raise both hands and cheer. Everyone in the house joined in the cheering, including Shauna.
After Frank received his due back-slapping, he played a movie. It was an old black & white detective film. About half of the crowd stayed inside to watch; the rest migrated out to the pool to drink and talk. Men and women were pairing off. A petite Asian girl sat on Frank's lap, alternating between watching the show with him, and distracting him from it with prolonged French-kissing.
Shauna held hands with Miles through the first movie, snuggled up against him. After a bathroom break and some more snacks during the intermission, the second movie began. It was not very good. Most everybody moved outside. Miles and Frank cracked jokes back and forth, at the expense of whoever directed the film.
Violet, the Asian girl, seated herself on Frank's lap again, though by now there was plenty of empty seating area to be found. Surprising herself again, Shauna recognized the desire to do the same with Miles--to mark off her territory, so to speak, with that intimate gesture of familiarity. Nobody was paying them any attention by now. The novelty of a black-white couple had waned, apparently, and those not engaged in their own amorous pursuits were not sober enough to really matter. Shauna left Miles with a reassuring pat on his thigh, visited the bathroom, then returned and stood facing him, blocking his view of the screen. He gazed up at her curiously. She smiled, turned sideways and folded herself into his lap, her arms around his neck. He embraced her and grinned, his whole face lighting up.
She kissed him as if they were the only two people present, and felt him grow hard under her.
"Sorry," she whispered in his ear, giggling.
"Uncomfortable for you?" he asked, with a sheepish smile.
"Not terribly,' she said, "but I think we'd both be much more comfortable at my place."
19
They had driven separately, assuming they would say goodbye after the party. That seemed like a crazy assumption by now. Shauna left first, encouraging Miles to linger at the party for a little bit to catch up with his friends.
She drove faster than normal, to increase her head start. She called Celeste on the way to tell her she wouldn't be picking Katina up until the next morning. Celeste had warnings and nosey questions, but Shauna had no time for that.
Upon entering her apartment, Shauna gathered all the candles she could find, placed them strategically, and tidied up. She pulled her best glasses out of the cupboards, re-washed them and set them on the table. She filled a bowl with ice, set it next to the glasses and placed her bottle of red wine in it. She showered quickly, lotioned her legs and arms, applied her favorite perfume, brushed her teeth, gargled, then searched her closet for her sexiest nightie. After pulling the thin, silky fabric over her skin, she put on some soft music, lit the candles and dimmed the lights.
Relieved that the bulk of her preparations were finished, she returned to the bathroom, wiped steam from the mirror again and gave herself a once-over.
Her heavy brown breasts were practically bursting out of her nightie; her large black nipples visible right through the material.
Too slutty.
She thought about what bra would be best to wear for an evening like this...then someone knocked on the door.
She turned out the bathroom light and tiptoed to the peephole in her front door. Miles waited outside. Her pulse raced.
Should she keep him waiting while she arranged herself into a brassiere? Which one?
He knocked again.
She ran back to the closet, found a silk kimono that more-or-less matched the nightie, wrapped it around her, tied the belt and returned to the door. After another moment to normalize her breathing, she opened up.
&nb
sp; Miles grinned when he saw her, then frowned into the candlelit apartment. "Did your power go out?"
She took his hand and pulled him in. She would have rolled her eyes in disgust at what dunces men could be, but her motor was idling high right then. She locked the door behind him and pulled him into a kiss. When they came up for air, Miles seemed to take in the ambience and finally understand the trouble she had gone through to set the mood.
"Aw, baby," he said.
She led him to the kitchen table and sat him down. She stood behind him and kneaded his tense trapezoid muscles.
"Does that feel good?" she asked.
"Mmm-hmm."
She continued massaging him, until his shoulders loosened up.
"Would you like some wine?"
His head lolled forward. Obviously, he enjoyed the massage. "You trying to get me drunk?"
"Let's have a toast," she said, and poured the wine. She sat across from him and lifted her glass.
He stared at her with gleaming eyes, then suddenly came out of his trance and took the other glass. "To, uh...world peace?"
"To us," she said, "and our first night together." She liked the sound of that. The first of many wonderful nights. And she was going to set the standard now, with a night he would never forget.
"Katina...?" he asked.
"Taken care of," she said.
They touched glasses and each took a sip.
She moved one of the candles aside and leaned forward, eyes closing. He leaned forward, too, and their lips met over the table. It was a tender, delicate kiss. Lips only. But the electric charge she felt was powerful.
Miles set his glass down, scooted his chair back and stood, gazing at her with intensity. Wordlessly, she rose and took his hand.
The candles formed a lighted path back to her bedroom. At her bedside she let go of his hand and turned to face him. He reached for her but she shook her head, gently pushing his hands back.
She undressed him with sensual ceremony, giving many touches of reassurance, maintaining eye contact almost the whole time. He shivered, visibly, which she found flattering. He reached for her sash but she dissuaded him again. With deliberate slow motion, she pulled the belt loose, shrugged her shoulders and let the kimono shimmer to the floor.
She smirked at his sharp intake of breath when he saw the shape of her body displayed before him. With gentle coaxing, she nudged him back onto her bed, first sitting, then prone.
She pointed to the center of the bed and said, "Make yourself comfortable."
He skooched back until no part of him was hanging over the mattress. His erection stood straight up, visibly twitching.
"You like this, Miles?"
He nodded. "Very much. What's the occasion?"
"I love to be treated like a queen," she said. "So I'm going to treat you like a king."
"You're doing a great job, baby."
"You like the way I undressed you?" she asked.
He nodded. She slithered up the mattress between his legs and teased him with her fingers, lips and teeth. He squirmed and groaned at everything she did, and she felt rather powerful having him at her mercy this way. Finally she stretched the condom down over him, took him in her mouth and pleasured him until her neck became sore and saliva leaked down his shaft. She had prepared herself for the eventuality he would cum right there, but he kept control.
"Did you like that?" she asked, sliding backwards off the bed.
"Loved it," he said, low and husky.
"Now I'm going to undress for you," she said, standing. "You like that, too?"
"Oh, yeah," he intoned.
She made a sensuous show of removing her nightie. His eyes burned into her like lasers.
"You like it when I show you my body?" she asked, posing for him.
He almost broke his neck nodding.
She crawled back up the mattress, kissing up his body from ankle to ear, until she was straddling him. He raised both hands to her breasts and softly squeezed.
"Oh yeah, Miles," she said. "Grab 'em like you own 'em." She was dripping wet, and needed no foreplay. She lowered her haunches onto his thighs, shuddering as her sex swallowed his. They groaned in harmony.
She leaned her weight forward, hands on his chest, rocking back and forth on him with luxurious, tantalizing motion. He bowed upwards to suckle at her breasts.
"Oh Miles, we're a perfect fit," she said, the words coming out like a cry. It was no exaggeration. She tingled all over. Somehow, he was hitting all the right spots inside her.
"Yeah we are," he said, letting his head settle back on the pillow while his hands kept teasing her breasts.
She opened her eyes, briefly, wanting to capture a visual for her memory. She noted the contrast of his white hands on her brown breasts, her brown hands on his white chest, his blue eyes drinking in her image.
"You like this, sweetheart?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah."
"What else do you like?"
"I like the way you talk to me."
"Oh, you like it when I talk?"
"It's so sexy."
Her chuckle became a moan when his thing rubbed her G-spot just perfectly. When she regained composure, she resumed her teasing inquisition. "Oh, it's sexy, hmm?"
He nodded, face twisted in ecstasy.
Most men liked dirty talk, from what she'd heard. She had thought it was something a prostitute or nymphomaniac did. Right now though, with her inhibitions dwindling away, she thought she'd give it a try if it made the experience better for him.
"You like it when I ride you?" Start with something obvious. Stir up to the performance.
"Oh, yeah, Shauna."
"You like it when I ride your dick, Miles?" She didn't feel shocked at herself, for use of the vulgar word. She should be embarrassed, but wasn't. As for him, he thrust his pelvis up at her with gusto, gasping.
"Yeah, baby. Oh, hell yeah."
"You like it when I ride your thing, and hang these big titties over your face, don't you?"
He groaned. It felt like he grew even harder inside her. Her words had immense power over him. Dirty talk might actually be kind of fun.
She closed her eyes, straightened herself, arched her back, and put her hands on his upper thighs, grinding down onto him. She contracted her vaginal muscles to squeeze him as she rode.
"You're beautiful," he said. "You're perfect. Damn, you're so perfect, Shauna."
She opened her eyes again. They held each other's gaze. So much was communicated between their eyes right then, words could never duplicate it.
There was no plateau this time, and very little warning. Her head tilted back and she cried out, her body convulsing, her fingers clawing at his hard thigh muscles.
"Did you cum, baby?"
"Mmm-hmm," she replied, her eyes closed again.
He was still hard inside her. She continued riding him, faster now. Her hands found his and they locked fingers. Energy flowed between them, through their palms and loins. They were one. The next orgasm hit like a storm, wracking her body with shock waves. Before those had completely subsided, she felt another one building. She rode faster.
*** If this was a dream, Miles never wanted to wake up. It must be a dream--ever since he walked through her door, it had been like some adolescent fantasy come to life. He could die right then and be a happy man. She climaxed twice already and he could still hold on for a while. This girl was not frigid by any stretch of the imagination. And it was him... him who brought her to this pinnacle of pleasure.
She cried out his name as the third orgasm rocked her. It was all just too damned good. He didn't want to hold back any more. He thrust his pelvis up to meet her stroke for stroke. She squealed louder and quaked as if electrocuted. His vision went blurry as he exploded inside her.
They lay in each other's arms afterward. Shauna whimpered as she caught her breath. A sheen of sweat covered them both. He kissed her face and neck, caressed her wonderful body, still amazed at every voluptuous curve.
So delicate, so vulnerable, and yet so full of some sort of potent energy that radiated out of her in waves and made his heart swell.
They were a perfect fit, just like she said. Not just sexually, though. Even just holding her like this, she was a perfect fit. He wanted to hold her like this forever. He wanted to devour her; consume her...
"That was so good, honey," she finally said. Honey. It didn't sound corny. He liked it. "Yes it was. Thankyou."
"My pleasure," she said. "I think that's my favorite way. The angle is just right."
"You just like being in control."
She opened her eyes, saw his grin, and smiled back. "Maybe I do. Are you complaining?"
"Not for a million dollars, I wouldn't."
"I never thought I'd ever do some of the things we've been doing," she said.
"Are you complaining?"
She giggled. "Not for a million dollars."
They continued talking. In time, she reciprocated his touches. The sight and feel of her beautiful, delicate hands on him was intoxicating. His loins began to stir.
Their conversation lowered to a whisper, and soon they were kissing. Just a few touches and kisses from Shauna, and he was hard again. She took hold of him, and gazed into his eyes, as if confirming that this part of his body now belonged to her, too. He shivered and kissed her some more.
"Make love to me," she said, and spread her legs to invite him in.
He made love to her as tenderly as he knew how. There was no dirty talk this time. No frantic slamming. She didn't climax as easily in the missionary position, but he was able to last nearly twice as long now, and coaxed her to her peak a few more times. She whimpered and moaned and spoke his name. He adjusted his rhythm and angle based on her reactions, concerned only about her pleasure. After what she had done for him a little while ago, he would gladly spend years trying to pay her back.
When he spent himself inside her again, she wanted to talk and kiss some more. He tried to fight the drowsiness of complete satisfaction, but dozed off anyway. He thought he heard Shauna's voice say, "I think I'm in love with you, Miles."
Just a dream. He dreamed all sorts of goofy things.
Some time before sunrise, he awoke stiff and aching on his side facing Shauna. She lay on her side, grinding her ample ass into his groin.
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