Road Games
Page 18
“You are the most interesting person I know. You’re also smart and warm and too sweet for your own good. You don’t deserve to be treated like crap.” She spoke with such vehemence that I blushed.
“Darn right I don’t. Just once I’d like to be the one to dish it out. I’m tired of people fucking me over. I’d like to be the one to do the fucking for once.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
I stole a quick glance at her profile to see if her face looked as tense as her laugh. “Yeah, I would.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with it if you could.”
“Yes, I would.” I didn’t say it with any real conviction, because I was still trying to get a handle on the fact that Ciara had just kissed me. Twice.
“All right, fine.”
“Fine what?”
“I'm going to give you that opportunity. The pendulum just swung in your favor, my friend. Let’s see what you do with it.” The last time Ciara had this look on her face we had been caught dumping soap suds and food coloring in the water fountain at school.
“Where are we going?”
“My place.”
“Good, I'm tired.” I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes.
“No sleep for you tonight,” she said.
I opened my eyes wide. I wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, but I didn’t. I never did. I had known her since high school, but we were so different, I still didn’t understand how we became so close. Remember that boring thing?
You probably already guessed this, but she was the popular one. You’ve heard the stories about the girl who screwed around with the captain of the football team’s girlfriend and even got her to dump him a few days later? Well, Ciara was that girl.
I was the one with the glasses, the cheap haircut, and the pass to skip English Lit because I had already read the books over the summer. I didn’t mind being unnoticed, but I had expected things to change when I left high school. And they did, to a certain degree. I got to go to all the good parties because I was Ciara’s roommate. I got to walk around campus with the hottest lesbians because I was Ciara’s best friend. I even got to see most of them naked because, well, Ciara was not shy. Why she continued to let me, the boring one, hang around was beyond me. I'm sure her girlfriends wondered the same thing.
She pulled the car into her driveway and got out. “Leave the bags, we’ll get them tomorrow.” She was already at the front door inserting her key in the lock when I stepped out of her car.
“Maybe you should take me to a hotel.” I was trembling, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
“Don’t be silly.” She disappeared into her house and I was forced to make a decision. I could call a cab to take me to a hotel, where I would spend the rest of the night wondering what might have been, or I could follow her and hope for a repeat of the kisses we had shared in the car.
I closed and locked her front door and stood shivering with my arms crossed in front of my chest. I had been here at least thirty other times. I’d had my own key since the day Ciara moved in, but tonight was different. The off-center feeling that began when she kissed me hadn’t left. It didn’t help that the house was dark save for a small hint of light coming from the direction of her bedroom.
“Why would you want to go to a hotel when you could stay here with me?” she called from her bedroom. If the kisses hadn’t happened, I would have followed the sound of her voice, plopped down on her bed, maybe snooped through a drawer or two in her nightstand to keep myself entertained until she finished whatever it was she was doing.
“Because you’re scaring me.” I raised my voice so that she could hear me.
“Come in here so we don’t have to keep yelling to each other.”
Before I realized it, my feet were responding to her request. She hadn’t turned on the bedroom light, but a soft triangle of yellow spilled from her closet; her shadow flitted across the carpet like an apparition. “You need to stop being so scared of everything. Would I ever do anything to hurt you?”
“No, of course not,” I said.
“Do you trust me?”
“Implicitly.”
“Good, I trust you too. Here.”
Something dark came flying from the closet. Instinctively, I put my hands out to protect myself; my fingers closed around a thin strap of leather just before something firm smacked me across the face. At first I thought she was tossing me a belt, but the weight of it told me I was holding more than a strip of leather. The light from the closet struck the tip of a six-inch black dildo hanging from a leather strap.
“Have you ever worn one of those, Leigh?”
“You know I haven’t.” I swallowed hard.
“I didn’t know. You never talk about your sex life,” she said as she walked out of the closet.
“One of us has to have secrets. You took your clothes off.”
“You should do the same.”
Her laugh was unconvincing. She’s nervous. I shook my head and dropped my eyes to the floor. The dildo still dangling from my hand cast a shadow across the floor that advanced on, and then retreated from, her bare feet.
“Why are you doing this?” My question was directed to the shadow because I was afraid that if I looked at her, I would find her fully clothed and dialing the number to the nearest mental health facility.
“Because you said you wanted to know what it felt like to fuck someone.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You mean you don’t want to fuck me?” The sound of her voice sent a shiver down my spine so violent that the dildo began to sway again.
“No, that’s not what I mean either. Are you doing this to teach me a lesson?”
“Come here.” I obeyed because I wanted it too much not to.
Instead of yanking me toward her and kissing me hard as she had in the car, her lips were gentle. I didn’t protest when she pushed my jacket off. I jumped, but nodded to her quiet “okay?” after her fingers grazed my ribs as she pushed my shirt over my head. I kicked off my shoes and socks and she helped me out of my pants. I had been nude in front of her before, hadn’t I? We lived together as roommates for four years, surely we—
“Leigh?” She expected me to look at her now. Don’t fuck it up, Leigh. You’ve been waiting too long. If you wake up tomorrow and it’s just a dream, you’ll have a wonderful dream to remember. Look at her. I started at her feet and worked my way up long legs, hips, and flat stomach. Her smile was tremulous. “Not boring. Beautiful.”
She took the strap-on from my hand and held it for me. I didn’t hesitate this time. She tightened it at my sides. “How do you feel?”
“Scared. Sorry.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“That we’ll do something to mess up our friendship.”
“Even with this thing on and me standing here naked, you’re worried about damaging our friendship?”
“Yes.” I hated myself; I really did. But I’d hate myself even more if I lost her just so I could have sex with her for one night.
She nodded. “Now you know why I’m doing this.” Her lips met mine again—soft, sweet. Several minutes passed before she pulled away. She sounded as out of breath as I felt when she spoke. “I promise nothing we do tonight will affect our friendship. Tomorrow we can act like it never happened, but tonight I need something from you. Will you do it?”
“I’ll try,” I said, my stomach turning into a warm, churning mash of nerves.
“I want you to fuck me like I’m a complete stranger.”
“I can’t.” I was trying hard to keep a whine out of my voice. I mistook the warmth of her hand on my chest for excitement.
“Are you sure?” she asked as she pressed me back onto the bed and straddled my hips. She hesitated briefly, as if waiting for an answer, and then she lowered herself onto the shaft. My hands went to her hips to steady both of us. I was too afraid to move, too afraid to hurt her, but I wanted to push inside her with it. I l
ay still and she rocked her hips forward. She arched her back and leaned back, her hard nipples calling to me, and I released her hips and covered both of them with my hands. Pinching them between my fingers, I swallowed as I imagined taking them in my mouth. She lost her rhythm and I urged her on. Each time she lifted I caught a quick glimpse of glistening silicone before it disappeared inside her; I imagined it stretching her, filling her just the right amount before leaving her. Her clitoris was swollen and proud, pushing its way from between her lips. I latched on to some courage and ran my thumb along it, lifting it and gathering her moisture until my thumb glistened more than the toy disappearing into her body.
“Oh,” she whispered, and if the sound of her voice didn’t inflame me, the sound of her wet pussy stroking the dildo did.
I guided her movements with one hand on her hip. All of my fear had long since gone. Her hair was draped forward and—almost as if she sensed what I wanted her to do—she leaned back so that I could see the passion on her face. I felt another sharp pang of arousal followed by the irrational fear that she would realize that she didn’t want me like I wanted her. With all the strength I could muster, I pushed her over onto her back.
She moaned a protest when the dildo slipped from her body. I shushed her, even though I reveled in the pure sexuality of the sound. She writhed beneath me for that instant it took me to poise myself at her entrance, just for the moment it took me to make sure I was still wet enough, to make sure she was still wide. I plunged into her. She yelled my name. A shot of adrenaline exploded through my body.
“Oh God, Leigh, please.” Her legs encircled my waist and her hands clutched and kneaded my ass cheeks. I gritted my teeth to sustain control. I felt powerful, aroused, desired—and not the least bit boring.
“Harder, baby,” she moaned and I gave her what she wanted. I was holding on to her hips, pounding into her so hard that the entire bed was slamming into the wall, and still she begged for more.
The sounds of us coming together caused heat to travel over my face and down my neck.
“I’ve been waiting so long,” she moaned, and a hot flood of pleasure centered my soul and focused my hips. I felt it when my thrusts found the right spot and I almost screamed with triumph and wept because her legs went limp even though I knew she hadn’t come yet. She called my name and I lifted my head to see the look of shocked surprise. I forced myself to slow my movements. She inhaled as I eased all but the tip out of her. I was supporting her legs now, and her eyes were fluttering shut. “Open them,” I demanded, and she did. I felt powerful, complete, as I thrust into her again. She was trembling and I knew I had one, maybe two more thrusts before I lost her. “Every time”—I faltered when she bit her bottom lip —“every time I had to listen to them not giving you what you needed. I knew I could do better.” I thrust until I could get no deeper and I saw her eyes glaze over. “Look at me.”
She did, by God she did. “Every time I heard you telling them not to stop, I wished that it was me…do you know how hard that was?” Another deep thrust. She was still hanging on. One, maybe two more. “In my mind I’ve made love to you so many times, in so many ways, I knew what you needed. I’ve always known.”
A new sound came from the back of her throat, a sound so low and feral that the one other time I had overheard it, my dreams had been haunted for weeks. I gave up my last tether on control and pounded into her. Her moan turned into a long, keening sob of pleasure. Her toes pinched the tender skin on the backs of my knees and her fingernails bit into the sensitive flesh of my ass.
I was on my knees lifting her with each thrust, and still she pulled me closer.
“I can’t,” she murmured and I stopped. Despite not having any breath left, I covered her lips with mine to stop them from telling me to get off. I wasn’t ready for it to end. Who was I kidding? I’d never be ready. She was still holding me close, so I lifted my head and looked at her. Her eyes were shining with tears.
“Oh, Ciara, I'm so sorry.” I kissed her twice, desperate to stop the tears before they fell.
She slapped me on the ass and glared at me. “Don’t you apologize! You just fucked the hell out of me…never apologize for that.”
“Sorry—I mean,” I reached back and rubbed my ass, frowning at her, “so it was all right?”
She shrugged, a light sheen of sweat glistening on her upper lip. “It was better than all right,” she said and I flushed with pride.
“So, what now? We act like this never happened?”
She stiffened. “If that’s what you want.”
“You know it isn’t.”
“Well, what do you want?”
“I want to do that again, and this time I want you to last a lot longer. I want you to make love to me real sweet until I come myself into exhaustion, and then I want you to wake up and make me breakfast like you did for those sluts you used to have in our apartment all the time.”
“And then what?” she asked as she laced her fingers with mine. Our eyes locked. She was scared too; I could see it.
“And then I want to tell you how I've been in love with you since high school.”
“You want a lot,” she said, but she was smiling and her voice had a delicate tremor to it that I had never heard before.
“Yes, I do,” I said with a cocky smile. “Let’s start with the first want. We can work our way through the rest.”
A Tangoed Web
MJ Williamz
The morning sun shone brightly through the worn curtains of the dingy motel room. Not quite awake, I squinted against the painful rays and tried to remember where I was. My head was lying on a fishnet-clad thigh, the scent of sex heavy in the air. The source of that scent wasn’t much of a mystery, as there was a glistening wet pussy mere inches from my face. Whose pussy? Oh, yeah. Rizata’s.
The previous night came back to me as I ran my hand over the crisscross pattern of the stocking. It had been my first night as a chaperone for a troupe of traveling tango dancers. The troupe had just lost a dancer who’d gotten pregnant by her dance partner, and we were on the road holding tryouts for a replacement for her. My main objective was to be sure there was no further hanky-panky between the male and female dancers.
No need to worry about that, I thought as I rolled off Rizata’s thigh, spread her legs wider, and licked deep inside her. I felt her stir when my tongue stroked the length of her, teasing her, coaxing her clit out of hiding. She pressed her hand to the back of my head, urging me on.
I sucked on her, feeling her grow between my lips while I filled her pussy with three fingers, sliding them easily into her. The thick sound of her moving on my fingers fed my desire. I wanted to take her back over the edge. She was so very wet; her come flowed down my wrist.
Her movement stopped abruptly. Rizata tensed, hips arched and hands holding my face hard against her clit, before she let out a long, guttural moan and relaxed into her orgasm. I licked her spilled juices while my fingers continued to move in and out of her.
“Ladies! Ladies! Are you up?” I recognized Paolo’s voice over the pounding on our door. “Come on. We’re moving out in half an hour. Let’s go!”
“Cállate!” Rizata yelled, bringing a smile to my face. I wouldn’t have minded continuing what we were doing, but I knew we had to hit the road. There were more estancias to visit, more dancers who wanted to show us that they could dance the tango well enough to join our troupe.
I sat up. “Okay, Riza. You heard him. Let’s go. You get the shower first.”
“You could join me,” she purred, running her fingers through my short, dark hair.
“I could,” I told her. “But we’d never be out of here on time. Now go.”
I spanked her high, firm ass and she disappeared into the bathroom. I lay there on the bed, listening to the shower running, fantasizing that I was a drop of water covering every one of her sixty-seven inches, from the top of her cinnamon-colored head to the tips of her perfectly pedicured toes. I imagined that drop of water
flowing down her high cheekbones, her neck, traveling over one naturally large breast, teetering briefly on a tawny nipple before continuing down her taut stomach. Oh, to be the water slithering past her shaved mons and trickling through her lips, down her thigh and calf and finally to her foot.
What a lucky drop of water, I thought as I slid my hand between my legs. Fuck, I was wet. Not surprising after eating Riza for breakfast. I slipped my fingers inside, moving them in and out while I imagined it was Rizata fucking me. When I had myself teetering on the edge, I traced my shaft with my slick fingers before pressing them hard into my clit, gasping as the familiar bright light exploded behind my eyes and heat radiated over my entire body.
*
I worked with the rest of the road crew setting up our equipment on the makeshift stage in the barn on an estancia in the Andes foothills. In the pampas, there were miles between the estancias, but word traveled fast that a tango troupe from Buenos Aires was looking for a new dancer.
The previous day’s auditions had been hideous. The girls were either too short, too out of shape, or simply couldn’t dance. None of us had much hope for that day being any better. Hope or not, the speakers had to be set just right, the cords all out of the way. The last thing we wanted was a heel catching, sending its owner sprawling.
By midmorning the orchestra was set up and the six musicians were warmed up and ready to torture some poor country girl. The director, Miguel Jovenes, took his seat in front, with artistic advisers and choreographers on either side of him. I settled into a chair and waited.
“Madeira?” Miguel called. “Is Madeira here? She’s next.” He looked around, then at his choreographers, who shrugged. “Dios mío. A no show. Mierda,” he spat as he sat down.
The silence was broken by the telltale click of stilettos on the plywood stage. Sure and unhurried, the most stunning woman I’d ever seen made her way front and center.