Surprise (12 page)

Megan had a clairvoyant streak. She caressed the side of his hip, enjoying the interplay of tendons and tissue there. She insinuated fingertips underneath him, keeping a steady rhythm with her tongue. When he arched his hips slightly, she slid her hand over to his straining balls, cupping them gently. She reached for James' inflamed cock, which dripped onto the towel beneath him. Megan beat him off expertly, as if she could predict how each nerve ending in his body would react.

His asshole was a vortex of sensation, getting hotter as his satisfaction built. Pleasure spread down his taint to his swollen balls and up through his rocklike shaft. When the hardest jolt hit the sensitive opening of his cockhead, his whole body clenched under Megan's merciless tongue. The defenseman's screams echoed through the locker room as he shot his load into the loving hand of his greatest fan.

Megan walked over to face James. Looking him in the eye, she lifted her shirt with one hand and rubbed his semen into her breasts, giving her nipples a little pinch. As he gasped, she leaned over and kissed his ear. “I knew you'd love it, sweetheart,” she whispered teasingly. “Welcome home.”

“My god, Megan,” James panted. “You said you might surprise me one day after a game. I had no idea you'd…surprise me.”

“Hey, you're not the only one who works best in the slot.” Megan helped him off the massage table. She grinned as she handed him his clothes.

“Let's get out of here. You've had enough excitement for one day.”

James drew Megan in for a kiss, letting her linger against his bare skin for a moment. “That's what you think,” he murmured.

 

 

 

 

I woke up that hot summer morning with my toes inside Cole's mouth.

My brain was slow to catch up. She hadn't slept over the night before. We had a date planned for that morning, but this was not what I had expected. Her soft tongue played between my toes and pulled me out of the sticky, foggy slumber my brain was lost in. My body started responding before the rest of me became conscious. My hips were already moving in small circles and my legs were trembling. I opened my eyes, moaning as the nerves in my toes relayed the sensations straight to my pussy. She slid her tongue over my burgundy lacquered nails, slipping my first three toes in and out of her hot, wet mouth.

“Morning, princess,” she said when she saw my eyes open, nipping her way down my instep with her teeth. I smiled and stretched sleepily, arching my back. I could feel my thighs slip against each other from more than sweat as I shifted my position.

“You naked under that sheet?” Her hand slid down my leg and I parted my thighs for her. She lifted the sheet and peeked underneath as her thumb played over my sticky thigh, just shy of my pussy. I spread wider for her, hoping she had come over to fuck me.

“Damn, beautiful, you got wet so fast.” She ran her thumb over my slit, once, and brought it up to her lips, sucking it clean.

“You know you drive me crazy sucking my toes like that.”

She grinned at me, but made no move to touch my cunt again. Instead she slapped my thigh and said, “Get up and put on something pretty. I'm taking you shopping.”

“What?!”

“Girl, you heard me, don't make me repeat myself.”

I was so confused. I had never been shopping with her, let alone been taken shopping
by
her. I never liked the idea of dates buying me things. I'd seen too many relationships where
gifts
of money and material objects played out in twisted and manipulative ways. I had watched my mother play that game with boyfriend after boyfriend. I wanted no part of it. I thought I had talked to Cole about this, but it hadn't really come up much. Between her own bills and her mom's, who she helped support, she was always broke.

I sat up, letting the sheet fall away from my body, and made my way to where she was sitting at the end of the bed. “Are you trying to tell me,” I said, straddling her lap, “that you came over here, woke me up, got my pussy slippery wet, and now you want me to get dressed and leave my house without even getting fucked? What kind of shopping?”

Her arms, strong and dark from working so much in the sun, circled behind me, pulling me close to her. I noticed she was packing a very large cock under her jeans. What the fuck was she planning?

She reached up and touched one of the hoops hanging from my ear. “Baby, how the hell do you sleep in these things? They are huge!”

“You're changing the subject. Answer my question.”

“Which one, you asked at least two.” She pushed my messy locks and earring out of the way and started kissing on my neck. It felt crazy good, especially when she started sucking the salt off my skin. If she really wasn't going to fuck me, I wasn't interested in being more turned on than I already was. I grabbed her hair and pulled her off of me.

“Answer me!”

“Okay! Okay! Yes, I want you to get dressed and come out with me. I'm going to fuck you, but not yet. I just got paid and I want to take you shopping. Since I'm running this date I can take you wherever the fuck I want and don't have to tell you shit. Now do you want to cooperate and play nice? Or are you going to be a total pain in my ass all day?” She leaned back a little, smiling, waiting for my answer.

“I'll show you a pain in the ass.” I lunged forward, trying to push her down to the bed and get her twisted over so I could spank her ass. She was too quick, too strong and too ready for my bullshit. She wrestled me down to the bed and I shrieked laughter as she pinned my arms down to my sides.

“Bitch, you are incorrigible,” she said, laying her body on top of mine.

I smiled up at her and spread my legs, letting her weight fall directly on my naked pussy. I got in a few good grinds against her denim covered bulge before she raised her hips out of my reach.

“You are such a slut,” she laughed, kissing my nose, “and I love you. Now get up and get dressed for me.”

She let me go and I huffed up off the bed. She usually took every opportunity to fuck me senseless and I couldn't understand why she was being so resistant to my charms. I was also nervous about what this shopping would entail, and how the very obvious bulge in her jeans fit into the picture. I decided to play along for now.

I was tempted to draw out the process of choosing my outfit, but decided to get it over with, picking a halter top that barely contained my tits and a short denim skirt. I brushed my hair and went to the bathroom to piss.

I was just finishing applying some eyeliner when she opened the door. I turned to face her, my eyebrow raised in a nonverbal question. She closed the distance between us, one hand on the back of my head pulling me into a kiss, the other up my skirt caressing the parts of my ass that peeked out from under my panties. Her tongue slid into my mouth, soft and slow. My knees went wobbly and I felt pussy juice soak my panties.

She pulled back, a smile in her eyes, turning up one corner of her mouth. “You look beautiful, lets go.”

 

Our first stop was this hip shoe store downtown. We walked in and she made a beeline to a display of heels—heels I'd been lusting after for months. They weren't just any heels, but a new design from this orthopedic company that were supposed to be easier on your body. Sexy, stylish heels that wouldn't fuck up my already fucked up joints? Maybe it was bullshit, but I was willing to fall for it. These shoes were expensive though, like fifteen times more than I was used to paying down at the Salvation Army. I hadn't even been able to justify starting to save for them yet. Something else always seemed more important.

I hadn't told Cole about my tortured love affair with these shoes and I racked my brain trying to remember who I had told. She knew to hold up the exact style I wanted and ask the sales woman for a pair in my size. I didn't even know she
knew
my shoe size.

When the woman ducked into the back I said, “Baby, these shoes are too expensive. I can't let you buy these for me.”

Her eyes turned stern on me. “I'm not going to argue with you.”

The woman came back with the box and handed it to me, then returned to the front of the store to help some people who had just walked in. Cole sat down in a chair and crossed her arms over her chest, determination setting her face. “At least try them on for me.”

I looked at her and bit my lip. My lust for these shoes was winning out. I slipped off the shoes I was wearing and opened the box. God, they were beautiful—black leather, open toed with a thin ankle strap. The heel was substantial and not that high, maybe two and a half inches, but the thought of being able to wear them for hours in relative comfort, walk around in them, was dreamy. Most of my time in heels was spent on my knees or flat on my back.

I bent down and slipped one on, buckling it around my ankle. It was perfect, the leather so soft it left me breathless and got my heart beating faster. “Here,” she said, “let me do the other one.”

I handed her the box and placed my foot in her lap, balancing on the one shoe. I glanced over my shoulder. The sales woman and the other customers were absorbed in their shoe selection. I turned back and moved my foot directly over her cock, running my toes up and down her shaft, pressing down with my arch, pushing the base into her clit. She let out a little grunt and quickly got the shoe out of the box and onto my foot, buckling it smoothly.

My stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster. Putting my feet into these shoes was like putting my hand up someone's cunt. It was like fucking.

“Walk around for me, sugar.”

I walked around the store, swinging my hips, trying to feel out the chances of rolling my ankle. They felt pretty solid. I wanted these shoes, but I still felt weird about her buying them for me. I decided to try to talk some sense into her one more time.

I sat down next to her and got as far as, “Baby...”

She sighed in exasperation, grabbed my chin and kissed me softly, once on my lips. “Listen to me,” she said, her hand on my chin, her eyes serious. I couldn't look away. “I love that I don't need to buy you shit to keep you happy. I love that you are resourceful and that you made half the clothes in your wardrobe from scratch, but baby, YOU CAN'T MAKE THESE SHOES.” I started to laugh, I couldn't help it. She smiled her crooked grin. “I respect you as an artist, but you just don't have the skills to make shoes like this. Besides, you're always saying that butches should learn how to support femmes. I'm just supporting your gender expression, sugar—and if I'm supporting my own sexual fantasies at the same time, well we both win don't we?”

Buying shoes for us wouldn't be on the top of my list of ways I think femmes need to be supported, try acknowledgment and respect, but I was done arguing. “Fine, baby. Fine.”

I sensed the sales woman hovering and turned toward her as she said, “Are you all set?”

“Yeah, we'll take them,” Cole said. “You want to wear them out, honey?”

“Yes.” There was no way I was taking these babies off.

She paid and we were out in the heat again, my new heels clicking on the sidewalk.

“How do they feel?”

“Like sex.”

“That good, huh?” She laughed. “I'm glad you like them.”

I stopped and turned to face her. “Baby, I don't even know how to thank you.” Suddenly I felt like I was going to cry.

“Hey,” she pulled me over to a bench and sat me down. “Honey, sugar, darlin', it's nothing, its just money! It's a gift, not some fucked up thing I'm going to hang over your head until I squeeze some gratitude out of you. It's not like that. I'm not trying to be your sugar daddy, I just wanted to buy you some pretty shoes. Okay?” I nodded my head. It made me feel better that she was starting to understand my discomfort, even if I was having a hard time articulating it. “Now I want to buy you a new bra and some panties, so lets go to the mall.”

“The MALL?” I was really being a pain in the ass today, but the mall makes me crazy, really, it gives me panic attacks.

“Come on, girl! I promise we won't be there long, and I'll get you a snack if your blood sugar drops.”

Who was this person, and how had she come to know me so well?

 

We were walking into the mall when I balked, thinking of another potential disaster.

“Cole, you do realize that a lot of the shops in here don't even carry clothes in my size, right?” My body inhabits that chubby region where if “regular” stores sell clothes that fit me, they're usually the largest size they carry.

“Relax, sugar. I have taken big girls shopping before. I'm not completely ignorant to the injustices of mainstream ladies fashion.”

Well, that about covered it. She pulled me into a shop, an “intimate apparel boutique” the sign said. It wasn't Vicky's or Frederick's. I had never been in there before. The woman behind the counter looked us up and down in clear disapproval and said tartly, “Let me know if I can help you.”

Was it our sweaty, tattooed bodies? Our blatant homosexuality? My slutty attire? The bulge in Cole's pants? Who knows, but she was definitely not into us.

Cole steered me over to a rack of bras in the corner. I wondered if she had scoped this store out in advance. She started flipping through the bras. “What's your size, honey? 40, 42? D, DD?”

“I don't know. It depends on the brand.”

She held up a burgundy bra with a black lace panel down the middle of the cup. I thought my tits would fit in there but it would be a tight squeeze. “I want you to try this one on.” She turned to the cranky lady at the counter. “Can she try this on?”

“That's what the dressing room is for,” she said in singsong condescension.

“Jesus,” Cole said under her breath.

She pushed aside the curtain but before she could go in the woman up front shouted, “Only one person in the dressing room at a time!”