by Zetta Brown
“Are you crazy?” I look around to see if anyone can see us, let alone hear us. “I can’t go up to the register with this. My dad would have a thousand fits.”
“Give the man some credit, Eva.”
“No way.” I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. “I ain’t doing it. I’ll go to another newsstand.” Jared makes an expression of mock astonishment.
“What? And give money to the competition? Eva, I’m ashamed of you.” He looks at me then at the book. “Do you want it?”
I smile . . . and he grins.
* * * *
Hanging around the perimeter at the front of the store, I wait as Jared pays for his painting—and the comic. I pick up a book and watch them over the spine as Dad rings up the sale. Then my stomach drops to the floor.
Dad picks up the comic, his eyebrows shoot up—and he and Jared start chatting over the damn thing! Finally, Dad slips it into the stereotypical plain brown bag.
Oh . . . my . . . hell. Now my parents are going to think I’m dating a pervert. Time for some damage control. I saunter over.
“Ready to go?”
“We’re all done,” Dad says. “Hey, Li’l Bit, Jared and I were just talking about—”
“Preston Cavell!”
Dad turns at the sound of his name. We do, too, and see an older man with salt-and-pepper hair with his hand high in salute.
“Jackson Paul!” Dad grins. “Negro, where you been?”
I take this opportunity to grab Jared and the brown bag and exit the store. The painting will be delivered in a few days. Back inside Jared’s Chevelle, I breathe a sigh of relief, but he’s been laughing his head off since we left the building.
“Will you cool it, Eva? Your dad seems perfectly comfortable selling porn to his daughter’s date.”
I hide my face in my hands and he laughs harder.
“Actually,” he says as he starts the car, “your dad recommends this book. He can’t keep it on the shelf.”
“Bully for him.”
More laughter from him, but I feel faint. This evening has been a drain on my emotions. When I open my eyes, I frown. We’re not near my apartment at all.
“Where are we going?”
“To my place. I want to make it up to you.” He looks at me. “In private.”
* * * *
Jared lives in a two-storey Victorian in the Five Points area of downtown Denver. I’m surprised he lives in this much-maligned, predominately black part of town—and that he’s lived here for over ten years. The area has a reputation that’s not entirely warranted, because it’s really a lovely and historically significant part of town. I may have grown up in the ’burbs, but I feel at home in Five Points.
His house is painted brick-red with black gingerbread trim. A giant maple stretches to the sky from the tiny front yard, obscuring most of the upstairs windows, but I can see the leaded glass and a half-moon weather vane on the steepled roof.
After parking in the carport, he comes around to the passenger side and lets me out. We pass through a wrought iron gate and he fumbles with his keys in front of the heavy cherry-wood door. It has a large, oval, stained glass pane in bright kaleidoscope colors in an abstract, broken-glass design. The streetlight is diffused through the branches of the maple, making things look stark and black and white.
When he releases my hand to put the key in the lock, I hug myself, suddenly nervous. I’ve never been on his turf before and now I’m about to walk into his lair, the place where he leaves his public persona behind and can be himself. I think of Sarah.
So what if Jared’s good looks and seductive manner are unnerving and he has a temper that I wouldn’t want to provoke on my worst enemy? He’s not a sex fiend. The man I’ve fallen for is quite the opposite. If anyone should be nervous it’s him, because I am ready to stake my claim on him.
He opens the door, flips a switch, and the contrast is so brilliant I have to squint until my eyes adjust. A crystal chandelier hangs above the entryway, illuminating wood floors that brighten the space with the muted warmth of polished pine. Before me is a grand staircase with a landing halfway up before it splits in two directions. I must be gaping.
“Does it pass inspection?”
I can only nod as I hear him close and lock the door. He turns out the light and the entryway immediately takes on an eerie, multicolored glow owing to the stained glass and the streetlight. My shoulders tense and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He’s behind me. The whole thought of being in the dark with this man excites and frightens me but also stirs my desire and my pussy muscles clench in expectation.
I smile when his hands come around my waist to rest on my upper thighs and gently pull up the thin silk of my dress to encounter my stocking tops and garter belt. He continues until my dress is over my head and he tosses it on his shoulder. His lips touch my right ear as he pulls me back to brush against his swollen cock. I sigh and relax into his embrace.
“Eva.” His lips are warm against the side of my neck, trailing across my shoulder.
“Mmm?”
“Eva,” he whispers again, this time it’s his tongue that burns on my shoulder blade. He inhales my scent of lavender and heat and exhales an open-mouthed kiss. I groan as he cups my breasts firmly. I wiggle against him, signaling that I’m more than ready for what he has to give. I take one of his hands and begin pulling at his forefinger with my mouth. He sucks back a gasp through his teeth and his reaction gives me a jolt of power.
“Jared?”
“Yes, Eva?”
“How bad do you want me?”
“This bad.” He wraps his arm around my waist and thrusts against me, and I feel the long, solid proof of his want.
“How bad?”
He does it again, harder this time. I grab his hand and lead him up the stairs. We get to the landing.
“Go to your left,” he instructs and soon we are in his bedroom—a vast, almost empty space with a high-pitched ceiling and a giant rose window that throws a red and pink colored patchwork everywhere. In the dim light and the glow, I assume the plush carpet to be off-white and its thick pile is soft beneath my shoes. I see a giant carved mahogany bed waits for us in the center, piled with pale-colored pillows and a coverlet.
That’s when I notice several full-length mirrors, one in each corner of the room. If Jared was any other man, I would be put off by the thought of a man with so many mirrors focused around the bed. But right now, I could care less.
I move away from him and crawl onto the bed, knowing what kind of presentation my ass, garter, and stockings make as I do so. I turn over and lie there on my back, resting on my elbows, and my legs crossed at the ankle. The bed is so lush and rich I sigh with contentment. He approaches.
“Touch yourself,” he orders me, his voice deep with desire.
I can’t see his face. He is silhouetted against what little light comes through the windows, but I get a thrill at the command. I start stroking my cleavage before caressing my belly. I let one hand go beneath my garter belt to touch between my legs. Then, with the other, I unsnap the front clasp of my bra, letting my breasts free. He sucks in his breath as I squeeze and pull at my own flesh. One advantage of having large breasts is that you can suck your own nipples, which I do. From his heavy breathing I can tell he likes that move. I sit up so I can remove the bra completely, bringing myself within a few inches of him, and take the combs out of my hair, letting its cool, sleek waves fall heavy past my shoulders.
He is taking off his clothes like a prizefighter about to enter the ring. I hear the whoosh his belt makes as he rips it through the belt loops and the sound of metal as he undoes other buttons and the zipper to his pants.
“Ooh, Jared, hurry,” I mew, caressing and squeezing my breasts. When he stands naked before me, I trap his jutting cock in my cleavage and press my breasts together hard.
“ Jesus !” he growls and begins thrusting into me. A drop of his essence lubricates my chest and I put my lips to the task, tasting his saltiness.
I force myself, and him, to go slow. For the first time, I’m able to deep-throat him and take in his long, full, thick cock, but he’s not fully aroused yet. Nevertheless, I think we are both proud of my accomplishment as he lets out a few short pants. For several minutes I work him, taste him, and love every minute of it. When he extracts himself from my mouth, his penis is a large, wet, shiny rod gleaming in the dim light.
Turnabout is fair play and Jared wants his turn. Gently, he pushes me back on the bed and kneels between my legs, stroking them from their stocking tops to the tops of my ankle-strap heels and back again. I reach to touch his head and caress his hair, my fingers trailing through the thick auburn strands.
His eyes fix on mine as he goes down until his mouth reaches its target. My breath catches in my throat and I close my eyes as his tongue whips me into shape. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and drapes my legs over his shoulders. His mouth is like a warm velvet hand cupping my intimate center, caressing my ache as I clench around him. His tongue probes far, twisting and tasting while his hair rubs like satin between my thighs.
“Ooh, baby . . .” I sigh as I come.
He kisses and nibbles his way back up, over my hips, his tongue tickling my tattoos. He pays special tribute to J.E.T. on my right hip and I smile, stroking his head. Then he continues his journey to my navel, and then up the center of my belly to the space between my breasts. There he spends a few moments, gently pulling and sucking. Now, he’s at my neck, the weakest part of my body in terms of my resistance, and I clutch at him. I can’t wait any longer.
He raises his head and looks at me. “Ready?”
I nod. All it takes is for him to shift his hips and he finds my entrance. I moan as he engulfs me.
“Ah, yes, purr for me, kitten,” he breathes, slowly thrusting deeper. “Take me in.”
“Jared,” I sigh, “love me . . .”
Those must have been the magic words, because he grabs my hands and pins them on either side of my head, his mouth crushing against mine and he proceeds to do so. He impales me hard and deep, moving slowly, deliberately, making certain I feel everything.
“Evadne,” he breathes into my mouth. “I need you so much.”
His words make my pussy lips swell with heat and passion and I transfer this to him by gripping his cock tighter, keeping him lodged deep. I don’t mind his squeezing my hands so hard it hurts. I don’t care if he turns me black and blue as long as I can feel his warmth and his love flow inside me. I rock my hips and he raises himself above me.
Still holding my hands in place, he starts slamming into me hard and fast, making my breasts quiver. The look in his eyes and the force he exerts tells me the movement of my ample bosom is an unexpected bonus. I throw my head back and offer my neck for him to bite, to suck, to worship. He does and I cry out with my second orgasm, clamping my legs around his waist.
“God damn it, Jared, fuck me!”
A loud, guttural roar is his reply as he nails me deeper into the mattress. I become a live wire beneath him, gyrating and writhing. He releases my hands so he can brace himself and I cup his face for a kiss. We try to smother each other with our hungry mouths, and when I break away, our breathing is harsh and fills the room along with the steady rocking sound of the bed.
“Eva,” he bites out through gritted teeth, each thrust making me cry out. “I want more. Give me more!”
I pull at his hips, urging him deeper. Looking up at the cathedral ceiling, I can only imagine how we appear with his hulking body plunging into mine. The thought brings me to climax again and this time leaves me weak.
He pulls out of me and I moan in disappointment, but he touches my cheek reassuringly. Getting up, he leaves me lying in a lewd position and too feeble to do anything about it. He stands at the side of the bed with his cock still erect in front of him, but his face is again hidden by shadow. My eyes drift closed.
“You are so beautiful, Evadne.”
He speaks so softly it’s almost as if he’s thinking out loud. I open my eyes. “Jared?”
“Shh. Be still.”
He stands there, silently stroking himself. I lie there open and wait. He lifts my left leg and removes my shoe. Then he does the right foot. Placing a knee between my legs, he balances himself and undoes my garters and gently rolls my stockings down. He moves away.
“Turn over.”
It takes me a moment but I obey and he unhooks my garter belt. When it falls loose, I arch, raising my rump in the air so I can slide the garment away. Jared moans and soon his weight is upon me, forcing me down. I turn my head and we kiss. He squeezes my breasts before letting one hand slip down between my legs. I arch against his erection and he groans. He reaches to push his cock down but lets his hand linger on my ass.
“Evadne,” he says, his breath hot against my ear, “have you ever had it there?” He touches my asshole and I gasp.
“No.” I bury my face in the mattress, not sure what his reaction will be. Sure enough, he’s silent. His fingertip touches the entrance and presses, opening me ever so slightly. I suck in my breath and he stops.
“Will you let me?”
I raise my head from the pillow. “Yes.”
He kisses my shoulder and strokes my bottom. I lay my head down and close my eyes. I feel him leave the bed. He returns a minute later and has me lie with a pillow under my hips, raising me up slightly. Then, starting at the base of my spine and working his way back up, he starts kissing and rubbing me once more.
“Loosen up, it’s important. I’m not gonna hurt you, sugar.”
He says that last bit with so much tenderness and care that if he wished to rip my heart out, I’d let him.
“I know you won’t,” I whisper.
He kisses my shoulder again and makes me stretch my arms out and starts massaging them. When I start breathing deeply, he goes to the next step: preparing the way. I hear him squeeze out some lubricant before feeling two, cold, slick fingers slide between my ass cheeks and press into me. I gasp.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks quickly.
I sigh and push against him, making his fingers go deeper. “No . . . please . . .”
“We can’t rush this, darlin.’”
He continues stroking inside me, his fingers gently moving up and down, in and out. Resuming his position between my legs, he simulates the action he’ll soon be doing when his fingers are replaced with his cock. He removes his fingers and rolls to his side.
I look over to see him put on a condom and squeeze on more lubricant. Up and down I watch his fist pump and prime his shaft and I moan in anticipation. He turns his head to me and the pale light makes his face look ghostly, like an angel with earthly, carnal desires.
“Are you sure you want this?” His eyes radiate the light coming through the rose window, enlarging his pupils and making his gaze both bright and dark. I reach out to trace his high cheekbone to his full, luscious lips that reflect a smile back to me. He moves back on top of me. “Just relax … and breathe deep.”
“Relax, Evie. Please, honey.”
His cooing words and his nibbling at my neck dissolve anymore hesitation and I relax enough for him to push a half inch inside me. I suck in my breath.
“Sugardoll,” he moans into my shoulder with so much tenderness and relief, I melt, letting him advance more. He reaches beneath me and begins stroking my pussy, his long fingers softly stroking my clit, causing me to grind against his fingers and push back against his cock.
It is slow going but worth it. I am in sweet agony feeling a combination of being ripped open and stuffed simultaneously. Some moments later, Jared gives a sudden thrust and we both cry out. He is completely lodged and I constrict around him. He embraces me and we lie still, both of us trembling.
“My God, Jared,” I say, turning my face to him.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, his eyes full of worry as they search mine.
“Jared,” I gasp. “This . . . is wonderful .”
And we stare at each other in utter amazement. He looks at me with so much longing, like he can’t believe I’m letting him love me this way. I can’t keep the tears back.
Then we move, neither one of us taking our eyes off the other as we rock along slowly. He lets me adjust to his size and the motion, stroking my hair, his hips gently pushing into me. He smiles.
“I’m gonna have to come up with a name for you and this lovely, hot ass of yours.”
I smile, close my eyes and enjoy the ride. “How about Miss Hot Crossed Buns?”
He gives a throaty chuckle. “Nah. It has to be seductive . . . like you.” He kisses my shoulder and raises his head suddenly. “Sister Friction. That’s it. From now on, whenever I want to have your ass like this, I’m gonna call on Sister Friction.”
I chuckle. “We really are a couple now.”