"Harkness?" Damian ruminated. "Big blonde chick?" Candace nodded. "Lon wants that?" Candace shrugged, nodded again. "Huh…" He gathered a breast in his free hand. "Does she know you’re fucking guys my age?"
"Um, yeah, I think — but she hasn’t had her nose rubbed in it…" Candace ventured.
"And me being black…" He eyed her.
Candace shook her head. "I’d be asking Rick or Toby — any boy. Well, I’d be telling Rick. It’s for Lon … They’re … making up, down in the rec room."
"And we could bust it again."
"Yes." Candace’s eyes pled.
Damian wanted no ill will from Lon — and Candace had been careful not to bring race into things. "Tell him whatever gets us all peace," he said, releasing her.
"Thanks!" Candace smiled and headed for the basement stair. Standing at the top, she called down, "Lon, Honey?"
"Mama?" What the fuck does SHE want? Lon was busy raising goose pimples on Sally’s extensive amount of exposed skin with his lips; interruptions were NOT welcome…
"I have a visitor," Candace said carefully. "We’ll be in my room, okay?"
"Okay," Lon called back, resuming his attack on the inside of Sally’s left hip. Sally had both hands in his hair — not guiding, or anything — just pretending to keep him away from her crotch, more or less. Mostly less … Lon wondered vaguely who it could be — not Rick, since he was with Teela. Not Damian, obviously. Maybe Toby — or Terence. Sally might freak if she saw Mama and a black guy. Probably Terence … Mystery solved, he put it away and concentrated on running his tongue along his new girlfriend’s belly, just under the lip of her bikini bottoms — much to Sally’s delight…
A hand snaked across Candace’s lower belly from behind, cupping it. "That enough?" Damian wondered aloud quietly, "or too much?"
Candace sighed. "It could go either way," she whispered back, "but it’s better than nothing." She stood there while Damian’s left hand possessed a breast and his lips descended on her neck. Dammit! He doesn’t own me! flashed through her head — but her body told Damian something different, backing into the embrace. Even she knew that she was full of shit … Besides, she was committed now; she couldn’t start yelling and having fits — it would screw Lon up. "Let’s go to my room."
"Cool." Damian backed off, and Candace, who had been more or less leaning against him, nearly fell before he caught her. "You ready, then?" he chuckled.
"For what?" Candace asked innocently as she recovered herself and turned away.
"Whatever." Damian followed her, amused, thinking, Silly fuckin woman… No, no, no! while she crawls all over your ass… '
In her room, Candace turned. "What do you want?"
Damian eyed her as if she had two heads. "That ought to be obvious. Bring it over here. Maybe you ought to up some ass…"
Candace stopped, just out of reach. "I’m … not ready for that."
"Why not?" Damian asked. "You knew someone was coming…"
"It’s not a standard thing, you know? Usually, it wouldn’t be worth the effort…"
"Come HERE!" Damian demanded firmly. Candace reacted without thought moving into reach. Damian collected a bicep. "That mean I have to put in a request in advance?"
"It would be … more convenient," Candace replied carefully.
"Ain’t gonna happen," Damian rumbled. "I like spontaneity. You can make up your mind — do it when you know I’m coming, or be prepared to do what it takes to clean up — and you KNOW what I mean by THAT! As for today…"
"No," Candace licked her lips and added, "Please."
Damian used his grip on her arm to shake her, slowly — not a teeth-rattling thing, just a slow back and forth that let her know that he had a handle on her. "You don’t TELL me shit — you ASK me. I don’t roll over for you. You want something, you say pretty please — and you give me reason to think about saying yes. I ain’t one of your pussy boys…"
"Pretty please?" Candace locked eyes with him.
"Maybe. Let’s get comfortable and you can practice your deep throat while I think about it." Damian let go of Candace’s upper arm. She just stood there; Damian realized that his instructions hadn’t been clear. "I’ll pull the shirt — you know where you’re workin'."
Damian was in a T-shirt and sweatpants; he whipped the shirt over his head while Candace bent to shuck him out of the sweats. "C’mon, you know better," he rumbled, putting his hand in the middle of Candace’s back and keeping her from straightening up. "Get the shoes." Damian ran his hand down her back until his middle finger hit the crack of her ass, and Candace got the point; she dropped to a squat and started undoing his Nikes. Damian braced himself on her shoulder while lifting one foot, then the other for shoe removal, after which Candace finished getting him out of his sweats. He wasn’t wearing underwear — something that his half-hard cock prodding his sweatpants emphasized. Candace stretched the waistband and freed his erection, then pushed his sweats down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. "Better," Damian approved, releasing her shoulder. "Get out of them panties." He went and sat on the bed.
Do this, do that… ' Candace fumed inwardly. 'I’m not Beth, dammit! But she said nothing, merely getting out of her bikini bottoms.
Damian didn’t miss her mulish expression, though. "Getting pissy on me?" he grunted, standing back up and collecting a handful of hair at the nape of her neck to control her with. "Drives you nuts when the shoe is on the other foot, don’t it?" He cranked her head back and Candace went from bent over to kneeling on her knees to take off the pressure. "There was a question in there…"
"Yes," Candace gasped; her scalp was screaming from the pain.
"Well, guess what? Nobody else likes it, either — including Beth!" Damian growled. "Beth puts up with it, because it means she ain’t responsible for what she’s doing — but that don’t mean she LIKES taking crap … Think about that when you’re tryin' to find ways to fuck her over!" He let go. "Come on, we’ll do it comfortable-like on the bed…"
Relief caused Candace not to question Damian’s instructions; he went out flat on the bed, head propped on her pillows, and she climbed up beside him and got a grip on his erection. "Bring your ass around here and I’ll work on your pussy," Damian directed. Candace was more than happy to oblige, straddling him. "Suck," he admonished. "I’m not feeling a whole lot of lip…"
"I was…" Candace began.
"Don’t talk. Suck. Make me happy — or I’ll start playing with your asshole."
"All right, all right!" Candace went to work on his erection.
Damian sniffed, smiled. "Nothing like the smell of wet pussy…" He spread Candace’s droopy inner lips and started fingering her clit.
Downstairs, Lon had Sally on the ropes, licking and kissing and sucking. He seemed to have two heads and more hands than an octopus. Worse, she was fighting herself; she didn’t REALLY want to keep his hands off her pussy — she was just fighting a holding action because she thought she was supposed to … She was lying on the couch and he was kneeling before it playing her like a piano, moving from kisses to breast work — mouth and hands — to attacks on her lower belly that hadn’t quite gotten to the most closely-guarded territory — yet. She lifted her knees in an attempt to fend him off by putting a barrier between him and her crotch…
It was her undoing. Lon put up with it for a bit, then examined the situation — and went in under her thigh, directly to her exposed mons! Sally’s first inkling that she was in trouble was the feel of Lon’s fingers tracing the leg band of her bikini, in the hollow of her inner thigh. "Hey!" she squawked, but she was already awash from the attacks on her sensitive nipples and multiple cases of lip-induced goose bumps on her neck and ears. Added to that was the fact that her position impeded her defense; she just didn’t have the access that he did, especially since his head was in the way while he suckled her left nipple and his right arm was similarly engaged with her right! Desperate, she wailed, "Lon! What are you doing?"