Authors: Fiona Zedde
Tags: #African American Women, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Adult, #Love Stories, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbians
A Taste of Sin (4 page)
Dez turned to her brother’s lunch companion. Now
this
was far more interesting. His date was soft femininity itself with her striking features and thick hair pulled back from her round face into a flyaway halo of coils and curls. Her hair burned like the color of the desert at sunrise, bright and dark and pale at once. Dez liked what she saw of this woman’s lush, ripe body. She liked it very much. The woman stared at Dez with naked curiosity, her fork resting against a lower lip bare of lipstick.
this
was far more interesting. His date was soft femininity itself with her striking features and thick hair pulled back from her round face into a flyaway halo of coils and curls. Her hair burned like the color of the desert at sunrise, bright and dark and pale at once. Dez liked what she saw of this woman’s lush, ripe body. She liked it very much. The woman stared at Dez with naked curiosity, her fork resting against a lower lip bare of lipstick.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” Dez offered her hand and a smile. “Dez Nichols.”
This woman, all whiskey gold skin and wide eyes, put aside her fork before taking Dez’s hand. “Victoria Jackson. Tori.”
Victoria. Dez liked the name. So proper, yet it conjured thoughts of old books and sex, reaching under a long skirt, pussy-slick fingers gripping shelves heaving from the pressure of two joined bodies.
Dez warmed up her smile, resisting the urge to drop her gaze to the swell of cleavage in the neckline of Victoria’s cream-colored blouse. Her brother had been hiding this jewel of his since college. She remembered him saying how brilliant she was, and how unavailable.
“So you’re the one.” Dez released the other woman’s hand and glanced at her brother before bringing her eyes back to rest on Victoria’s . . . face. “Derrick never said how beautiful you were.”
Her brother looked at her as if she just put a dirty tampon on the table. Victoria blinked, caught between flattery and outrage, or so Dez thought.
“By the way,” Dez smiled at her brother. “Since Mama is getting in around lunchtime on Thursday, why don’t we just go pick her up together? I know that she’d be glad to—”
“Here you go, darlin.’ Hot and fresh just like you like it.” Gina winked as she slid the nicely boxed lunch under Dez’s nose and bent her decorated cleavage for the whole table’s inspection.
“Thanks, Gina.” And just for the hell of it, Dez tucked a five-dollar bill between the ivy-tattooed breasts. “See you later in the week.”
The waitress grinned and disappeared.
“That was tacky of you, Dez.” Her brother leveled a disapproving frown on her.
“What? Jealous?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
She turned to Derrick’s friend. “Do you think that was tacky of me, Victoria?”
The woman blinked again, but followed it with a smile.
“Gina—was that her name?”—she continued at Dez’s amused nod—“seemed to enjoy it, so . . .” She shrugged and smiled. “Besides, I’ve never been one to school anyone else on tacky behavior. You should’ve seen me in high school.”
“What, two years ago?” Dez grinned and leaned in closer.
Victoria laughed. “You are a big flirt, aren’t you?”
“The biggest. I’m glad you’re not taking offense. You’re very attractive, and I don’t think a woman can be told that enough.”
“Only women?”
“Well, of course, men too. But not by me.”
Victoria laughed again, stirring the mouthwatering flesh just above her neckline. She knew Dez was looking.
Derrick had had enough. “Did you want anything in particular, Dez?”
“Hm, nothing much, brother dearest. Just stopped by to say hello and bask in the glow of your gracious company before I go back home.” She slid Victoria a look and a smile. “And I guess that was my cue to leave you to your lunch.” She stood. “By the way, if you ever want someone to treat you to lunch or . . . whatever, please give me a call.” Dez took a card from her wallet and put it in the hand that was already rising to meet hers. “See you both soon.”
She picked up her lunch and left them to theirs.
On the way home, her cell phone rang but she let it keep until she pulled into the garage and parked the bike. It was Sage.
“What’s up? Didn’t get enough of me last night?”
“You mixing me up with your whores again?”
“No mix-up here, baby.” She pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she stripped off her gloves and, balancing her lunch in the crook of her elbow, walked through the double doors leading from the garage to the house. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a little happening at our house tonight. Phil and I want you to come.”
“Don’t you people ever work?” Dez dropped her lunch and gloves on the kitchen counter then opened the fridge. The breath of cool air from inside misted against her face, bringing with it the scent of the guavas she’d bought the day before.
“Not if I can help it and I know you aren’t talking, you big lazy ass.”
Another thing that had united the four girls in school besides the whole pussy-eating predilection was that none of them were poor.
Dez’s mouth twitched with reluctant amusement as she poured herself a glass of rice milk. “What time?”
“Ten. Or whenever you can make it.”
“I’ll be there.” Dez hung up and lifted the glass to her mouth.
The night of the party, Dez pressed past the surging bodies at Sage and Phil’s door, biting back her annoyance. It was well after midnight and the party was in full swing. There were women everywhere, most were well past the point of modesty. A foursome pressed itself into a corner, leaving a trail of clothes scattered on the floor. Breasts and buttocks heaved in the flickering light. Flashes of their open mouths, wet thighs, and hands lured her deeper into the house. But the sounds of sex on a nearby couch—rough, flesh-pounding, wet sex—brought her up short. This wasn’t exactly the kind of party she was expecting.
Lines of coke ribboned the glass surface of the coffee table. Heads bobbed over the white streaks, sucking up the powdered pleasure, ignoring the naked and sweating bodies around them.
“What the fuck is this?” she asked Sage when she saw her.
“A party. What else?” Except for a pair of shiny boy’s-cut briefs, she was naked; her dark, tattooed flesh glowed with flecks of white powder.
“Shit! I didn’t know it was going to be this kind of party.” She waved her hand at the bodies around her.
“What, you don’t like pussy? Come on, have some blow. Shit, have a blow job. It’s all free tonight. Welcome back to town, baby!” Sage slapped her on the back and passed her a tumbler with the remnants of what smelled like scotch, before stumbling back the way she had come.
Portishead played heavy and loud from the speakers, the perfect accompaniment to the distinct sounds of sex, of demand and release, of “come here” and “fuck me harder” drifting from different corners of the house. The music and the voices, the intoxicating smell of sex seeped into her as she stood watching it all. Her skin warmed with the beginnings of arousal. Why not? Dez’s eyes flickered around the room again. She shrugged out of her jacket and went to find some pleasure of her own.
She found Rémi in the old basement playroom, knocking balls around a pool table. A few slumped bodies perked up as Dez walked down the stairs. She heard whispers, some she could make out, some she couldn’t.
“Are you high, too?” Dez asked. Sage’s leftover scotch and the nonstop visual stimuli were starting to work their magic on her. She definitely felt more relaxed than when she first walked into the house.
Rémi grinned, leaning over for a shot. “Not yet.” She nodded at the beer bottle dripping condensation on the edge of the table. “I’m working on that right now.” As she straightened up, Dez noticed the tight black T-shirt that stretched across her breasts and abs. It read, SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY
.
.
“Are you back in town for good, Dez?” A woman in ghost white slipped out of the darkness. The newcomer’s dress was short and draped over high, lush breasts in two separate strips of nearly sheer cloth, leaving a wide canyon of brown sugar flesh visible down to her pierced belly button. At the hips the dress hugged tight, cleaving to a thick round ass and muscled thighs. With all that she didn’t have to bother with “fuck me” red stilettos or black stockings that snared around her legs like silk invitations, but she did. Dez acknowledged her appearance with the requisite leer. Unlike most of the people she had already seen at the party, this woman seemed perfectly lucid. And watchful. Should Dez even know who she was?
“I’ll be here for a while,” she said, answering her question.
“Good.” Whether or not Dez knew this woman from before, she seemed down for a good time. Isn’t that why they were all here?
Dez looked at Rémi across the pool table. The eyes under the black cowboy hat sparkled with anticipation. The woman in white positioned herself in the light, watching them both with a slight smile. Her body swayed slowly from side to side. Rémi went back to her game with the smirking stud who looked about ready to lose. They continued the round in silence until Rémi sunk the eight ball. The two shook hands and the woman backed up to prop herself against a nearby wall and watch the action.
Rémi looked at Dez. “You next?”
The woman stirred in the light. “I want to be next.” She slid over to the pool table, taking her time so that everyone could see the way the white silk draped over her body. “I want to play both of you.” Her fingers landed on Dez’s forearm. “You game?”
Several throats cleared in the room. They
all
knew what she meant. The Good Time Twins looked at each other again.
all
knew what she meant. The Good Time Twins looked at each other again.
“Why not?”
Now, when it came to their tandem sports, Dez and Rémi had rules, especially when they were playing with someone they didn’t know. Rubber gloves, lube, and lots and lots of condoms. Sage kept a healthy supply in all her guest bathrooms. Dez swallowed the woman whole with her eyes then gestured toward the stairs. “After you.” She just wanted to see that ass wiggle up the stairs before she got good and deep in it.
Behind them Rémi didn’t bother to hide her laughter. “All the way upstairs, honey. Second door on the left.”
Once in the room, the woman—Ashley, Ananda, or something—stripped off her clothes and lay back on the bed. She spread her legs and, watching Dez and Rémi with eyes that glowed, bared her already wet pussy to their gaze. When she was absolutely sure that she had their undivided attention, Ananda took a vial of coke and shook some of the white powder over her bared clit before rubbing it into the swollen pink flesh. She hissed and arched her neck in reaction. Her steady fingers worked it deeper into her pussy, then she spread two thin lines on her belly, two arrows of white leading to her cunt.
“I like to fuck on coke. You’re okay with that, right?”
Okay wasn’t quite the word, but Dez would go with that for now. She kicked off her shoes and knelt on the bed near Ananda’s belly. The smell of her pussy was natural and fresh, much better than the cloying perfume she wore. Dez resisted the urge to dive into it with her tongue and hands. That was for another fuck. Another time. Ananda’s skin was butter-soft in the light from the chandelier swaying slightly above them. Shards of light from its crystals danced around the room. The coke hit the back of her throat like ice and fire, numbing and cool at the same time, and she swayed for a moment. Exhilaration and its companion tremors rocketed through her. She sat up. Rémi came back from the bathroom with a basket full of goodies, including two hefty dildos and straps. Ananda’s eyes widened and she licked her lips.
“Your turn.” She pointed at Rémi then at the line still left on her stomach.
Rémi, naked now except for her thick swaying dick, grinned and leaned over Ananda while Dez strapped herself and covered the silicone toy with a condom. Her clit felt hot and ready against the dick. Rémi’s ass in the air, with its black cherry pucker of a sphincter and wet velvet pussy, drew Dez closer. The two women had never touched each other as lovers, not even in the most heated moments, but that didn’t stop either of them from looking.
Dez knew that Rémi usually liked to start things by watching. She loved it when Dez warmed her up, teasing the lay of the night with her hands and tongue, let the fire build inside until she was begging for something hard and deep and fast. But that wasn’t how it was going to go tonight. Lightning and fire thrummed through Dez’s limbs. She went quickly to the bed, her fat dick already well lubed, and drew the woman up, slammed her breasts against her back and slid inside her. The woman—Ananda, she had to keep reminding herself—gasped, laughed out loud, and reached for Rémi, begging to have all her holes filled.
They arranged her incredibly limber body, twisted and contorted it until, with Dez at her back and Rémi at her front, they twined into a sweating three-headed beast, thrusting and gasping against one another in the bed. A hot palm hooked at the back of Dez’s neck and she groaned, heart hammering in her chest, sweat coating her breasts and back. Ananda twisted her fingers in Rémi’s hair, opening her mouth wide to receive her deep kiss. Her fingers slid back to squeeze Dez’s ass, the rhythm of her fingers begging for a faster pace. Ananda’s hips bucked and jumped as Rémi slid a gloved finger between them and over her coke-hardened clit, strumming it like a guitar.
That was her friend’s cue to quicken the pace, and she did, until the two of them were slamming into the woman from both sides, grunting and twisting as the bed bounced, and they were going faster and yelling and fucking until the woman called out somebody’s name and collapsed between them. But they didn’t stop. They held her limp body between them, pushing and thrusting and grinding their pussies against her, against their borrowed dicks. Ananda laughed, gasping a yes as her body sparked again. Rémi’s fingers sank into her friend’s shoulder. Through her clenched eyes, Dez saw a light and chased it, pushing her hips in a savage tempo until she was up on it, then inside it, burning, glowing, then exploding. Her heart galloped in her chest and her body felt hot. She couldn’t tell if it was the coke or the fuck.
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