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Authors: Pynk

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BOOK: Erotic City
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Without even stopping to notice the surroundings, Jarod, who was Milan’s sister’s boyfriend, and Lavender arrived in the silver room simultaneously. Lavender spoke first. “Sir, is there a problem here?”

The angry man, branded with frown lines on his forehead, who was older than his woman by maybe twenty years, secured the grip on his waist towel and replied without looking up. His eyes were fixed upon his lady’s shapely back as she began to stand. No was all the man said.

Lavender spoke to the young woman’s back as well. “Ma’am, are you having trouble with something?”

She ignored him, taking a deep breath and a lengthy exhale. Her dainty shoulders dropped bit by bit like sticky molasses being poured from a mason jar.

Her hot and bothered man spoke instead. “I just caught my lady with her face between that woman’s legs.” He pointed at the other woman’s frame.

The other woman’s face turned toward him with a combination of satisfaction and worry. Satisfaction for the fact that he’d walked up just after she came in his woman’s mouth, and worry for the fact that perhaps she would not be able to enjoy his young lady’s tongue-screw skills again.

Jarod took over as club spokesperson. He kept one hand on his leather holster and unsnapped it. “Sir, our rules clearly state that couples have to work things out calmly or leave.”

Lavender kept his eyes on the woman, trying his damndest not to stare at her perfect cinnamon butt cheeks. Scripted in purple ink on the small of her back was a fancy tribal design tramp-stamp. The sight of the tattooed artwork rang a loud and vivid bell. The sweet scent of Poême made its way to his nostrils.

She began a slow-motioned turnaround.

The man continued, “I paid nearly two hundred dollars, supposedly for my lady to eat some woman’s pussy? We’re not leaving.”

Jarod gave the man a cautious once-over and took one step closer toward the man’s face. “Sir, have you been drinking?”

Irritation persisted to envelop the man’s sentences. “Hell no. I barely got my dick out. I brought my own strong-ass liquor in here and haven’t even had one sip.”

“Hello,” Lavender said with a cautious head nod as the woman completed her about-face.

The statuesque, pecan woman replied, “Hi, DeMarcus. I mean Lavender.” Her voice sang a sultry tone. Her searing eyes, which looked like they belonged only in the bedroom, were big and brown. She did not blink.

Jarod spoke to the man with firm delivery. “You and your lady get dressed. It’s time to go.”

The man locked his attention upon his lady’s face, which was still locked upon Lavender’s face. “I’m not going anywhere. And did you say Lavender?”

The woman licked her lips before she spoke. “Yes. Baby, this is Lavender Lewis.”

“How’s it going, Ramada?” Lavender asked, trying to cut the cord of their eye string. A sustained, forced blink seemed to do the trick.

“Fine and you?” Facing the gentleman, big-breasted Ramada stood in suede pumps, with rock-hard nipples and a hairy vagina.

Lavender now glanced at the carpet, on the floor, that is. “Fine.”

Jarod took two steps back in confusion.

“What the hell is all of this?” the man asked. “All of the niceties and shit.”

Ramada ran her fingers through her flat-ironed hair while she spoke. “DeMarcus, this is Ray. Ray, this is DeMarcus, or Lavender as he’s called.”

Lavender extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The man paused, put out his hand and gave a firm shake. “Lavender? You work here?”

“Yes. I’m the head of security.”

“And you knew this?” the man asked Ramada.

Ramada wore a sticky smirk. “Honey, this is the scene of the crime. I told you about that, didn’t I?”

“Crime?”

Lavender rubbed the hairs on the back of his neck and gave Jarod the eye. “Jarod, they’re cool. They can stay. Anyway, Ramada, it’s good seeing you.” He focused on her man. “Sir, is there anything we can do for you?”

Ramada replied for her boyfriend while giving Lavender a naughty wink. “No, I’ve got him.” She turned her naked body away from Lavender and grabbed her man by the hand, kissing him softly on the lips. He barely reciprocated. She moved her body closer and grinded up against his crotch, maneuvering the towel as it dropped to the floor.

The hard-on that her boyfriend now wore did not match the dismay on his face. Ramada looked over at Lavender. The look on her face was playful and serious. She dropped to her knees, securing herself to take her man’s stiff penis into her mouth as though dick sucking was her own personal creation. She shellacked his shaft with her maple brown lips, stroking his length with her left hand, rubbing his swollen balls with her right. She bobbed up and down as her hair bounced about. She closed her eyes while Lavender coolly turned to walk away.

Jarod gave it another second but eventually moved his feet, following close behind.

Ramada’s man’s eyes remained wide. His fists were tight. But the lines seemed to fall from his forehead the deeper his shaft traveled down her talented throat.

Lavender shook his head and forced himself not to look back.

“Lavender, I need to see you upstairs. Now.” Milan’s voice rang in his ear, firm and anxious.

“I’m headed that way,” he said. He commented to Jarod as they took the flight of stairs. “She always did have a thing for the ladies. He’d better get used to that shit.”

“Girl’s got mad skills,” Jarod commented, looking as serious as a heart attack.

Lavender checked to make sure his microphone was off. “She always did.”

“Damn, talk about SuperHead,” Jarod replied as he walked back toward the second floor bar area. “Uh, uh, uh.”

Lavender headed up another flight to Milan’s office . . . the office of the woman who was the love of his life. The woman he knew was now pissed the hell off.

2

“Juicy Fruit”

Sunday, March 30, 2008
1:15 a.m.

M
ilan greeted Lavender with quick words as he stepped inside her office and closed the door. She stood before him. Her high, curved cheekbones showed a slight flush and her slanted, dark brown eyes were intense. “Is that who I think it is?” Her breath paused.

“Yes.” Lavender gave her a peck on the lips before making the red leather guest chair his seat.

She exhaled and crossed her arms, leaning against the desk, exposing her model-thin, bare legs. She had on a pink top and a short skirt with black Mary Jane pumps. “What the hell is that about?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I have no idea.”

“And what was up with that man?”

“That’s her boyfriend.”

She chuckled. “Boyfriend? Since when does crazy-ass Ramada have a man?”

“Like I said, I have no idea and I could care less.” Lavender looked at his radio and lowered the volume.

Milan stepped closer to him. “Lavender, I want them out of here.” She was firm.

He looked up. “Why?”

Milan pointed her pink index fingernail his way. “You know she brought her tired ass up in here to fuck with you. The girl is one slice short of a full damn loaf.” Tightness formed around her mouth. “I’m not having that type of game playing in my place of business.” She stepped back, turning away.

Lavender rose to his feet and spoke from behind her. “Milan, considering that I came here with her last year and ended up leaving with you, you have nothing to worry about. Besides, your motto has never been to fight fire with fire.”

She turned back toward him. “Then why now has she decided to come in here and flaunt herself at the very place where you and I met? This is our place of business. Have you even told her that you own a part of Erotic City as well?”

“Not yet.”

“See, Lavender. I see the game. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Then don’t make time for it.” He smiled but kept track of her right hand, knowing she wasn’t the type to slap, but also knowing women.

Milan’s face was blank. “I’ve been patient with all of Ramada’s crap. But I’ll tell you now, I will not put up with her if she’s gonna pop up out of the blue and come up here playing her silly ass games. No telling what she’s got up her sleeve. I’m serious. I don’t trust her.”

“Baby, I know you’ve been cool about Ramada. And, yes she’s been trying to make my life a living hell. And I know you’ve stuck by me over the past year. But I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Now, I’m gonna go back out there. All you need to do is keep your head up.”

He noticed her eyes were red. He tipped her chin his way, demanding a full-on stare. She gave him only half a glance. He placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest.

He took a peek beyond the one-way mirror and accidentally caught an eyeful of Ramada bending over to allow for her man’s entry. Lavender blinked twice and kissed his own woman on the cheek. He loved every inch of her china-doll face. To him it was perfection. Her porcelain, pale skin was oval and flawless. Her long, coal black hair was pulled back and twisted into a tight bun. She wore large silver hoop earrings that hung from her dainty ears, and a silver cuff that shone along her upper arm. She looked just like her mother. Her bushy eyelashes framed her Asian eyes that he knew so well. Stubborn eyes that still offered a look of dissatisfaction, as if yearning for more than he’d communicated. He knew a question was brewing.

“You’re not gonna ask them to leave?”

“No, I’m not and you’re not either. And I really don’t think they’re worried about us.” With a focused look he said, “I love you.”

She glanced at the white gold crucifix that hung from his wide neck. Avoiding his eyes, she then focused on his beautiful upper arm. His black shirtsleeve ended at the very top of the LL initials etched on his bicep. And just below that was a boxing glove tattoo.

Lavender placed his hand on her slender upper thigh. The feeling of her smooth skin made him smile. He raised her knit skirt, finding that as usual, she was pantiless. He spoke as he used his fingers to trace a path to her vagina. He slipped his middle finger to her clit, gently flicking it. It was stiff and moist.

“Lavender.” She said his name as if unsure.

He pressed his fingertips toward the opening of her pussy and inserted his middle finger, probing her familiar walls. Her moistness made his dick pulsate into full grown. He pushed his long finger as deep as it would go, swirling inside of her tightness. She gave a soft moan. Her eyes half closed. He exited the sweet vagina he’d claimed as his and his alone, bringing his finger to his mouth. He sucked her shiny glazed wetness from his skin.

Milan grabbed his finger and took it into her own mouth. She licked the sides and sucked the tip and gradually pulled his finger out and rubbed his own finger along his neck.

“There. A little pussy perfume.” She lowered his hand to his own crotch. “You and junior calm down now. And I love you, too.” She flashed a glimmer of content.

He reached inside his pants to adjust himself. “Damn, girl. You know you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

“Well, thank God for that. Anyway, there’s more where that came from. But for now, it’s business before pleasure.” Her face had indeed softened.

“I’m on it. Besides, we’ve got Big Mack and his boys upstairs in VIP.”

Milan pulled down her skirt and shook her hips back into the perfect fit. “Baby, you know tonight is couples and single females only. I don’t like to break the rules.”

“He came in as part of a couple, like most men do anyway, come with a woman just to get in. Nothing we can do about that.”

“Yeah, well, he needs to be in here with his wife.” She shook her head.

“I’ve got this. I’ll check on you later. I’m out.” He blew a kiss and she caught it in her hand.

She glanced at the wall clock. “Hey.”

He turned as he held on to the doorknob. “Yeah.”

“Happy one-year anniversary.”

“Happy one-year to you, too.” He gave her a mischievous look before closing her door.

Milan sat at her desk and logged on to her flamingo pink laptop, preparing to get some work done. However, her eyes insisted on a glimpse of the silver room again. She stood. Ramada’s man was still fucking her royally from behind, and this time it was his face that was situated between the thick thighs of the Hispanic woman. He sucked her wide-open red-velvet pussy as the woman stood over his face.

Milan tried to look away, but curiosity took her by the hand and insisted. She imagined Lavender, long and strong, screwing Ramada in the same vulnerable position. Ramada was handling the dick well, and her ripe 38DD breasts flopped around. Lavender always was a breast man, always checking out the biggest tits in the place, no matter where they’d go.

Just as Ramada began to bust a jerking, sputtering nut, a woman stuck her long tongue inside of Ramada’s wide-open mouth. Ramada’s man, now obviously willing to play the game, backed away from the oral vagina, closed his eyes, and continued grinding. And another man was sitting back with his white, veiny dick in hand, stroking himself within an inch of Ramada’s round ass. His liquid expelled onto his cupped hand and melted. He simply stared at the other fuck buddies as though he must have died and gone to swinger heaven.

Milan looked away and spoke aloud. “Her psycho ass will be on the no-entry list from now on.” She sat down in her chair and resumed looking over her computer files. “That kinda mess doesn’t work on Milan Kennedy. She’s gotta come up with some better shit than that,” she told herself.

About thirty minutes later, just as Milan again checked out the view, she caught a glimpse of the upstairs VIP. room. She saw a group of people moving about in the midst of an obvious commotion.

Lavender’s voice belted from her two-way. “Milan.”

Milan snatched it from her desk. “What’s wrong, Lavender?”

“We’ve got a problem. We have someone in VIP. claiming that after saying no, she was forced to suck Big Mack’s dick at knifepoint. She’s called the police. It’s Ramada.”

“What?”

“It’s Ramada.” He said it again with an extended exhale.

She paused. “I’ll be right down.” She disconnected the radio and ran to the door. “Damn, that fuckin baby-mama bitch.”

BOOK: Erotic City
4.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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