“What are we going to do if you get sick again?” he asked after the reality of her condition hit home. “We’re on the run and there ain’t a doctor or hospital for miles. Who knows what kind of care you can get down here?”
“What are you saying?” she asked, gazing up at the ceiling.
He watched her hungrily, naked, stretched out on the dingy white sheets. Her breasts and nipples seemed swollen, ripe for seduction, her long neck, her slightly rounded stomach, the triangle of short black curly hair between her damp thighs. While she chatted away, he scooted down so he could put his lips on the dark areolae of her breasts. Even from there, he could smell the exotic scent of her sex. One of his big hands could barely conceal what this delicious vision of her was doing to him, his flesh hardening and throbbing, wanting to be inside her, if just for a moment.
“You know… with all this pressure and shit… anything can happen,” he sputtered. “Hey, you haven’t been out of lock-down that long and you’re not back to your real self yet. And we don’t have any pills to cool you out if something happens. I don’t know what other junk you got in your bag.”
She glared at him, her face morphing from a mask of concern to one of growing indifference. He’d touched a nerve, fingered an old emotional wound, and she was pissed off. She got up in his face and jabbed a finger into his chest.
“Don’t come at me like that,” she snarled. “I thought you were on my side. That’s why I left with you. Don’t disappoint me. I’ve been through really bad shit. I’m due for some good times and real happiness. And if I can’t find it with you, then I’ll go elsewhere.”
Then I’ll go elsewhere. That’s what his wife had done years ago. He’d been here before. Like that time when this honey, a coworker from the facility, drunk at an office party, called his house and left a jive message on his answering machine. It’s yours if you want it, Terry. And his wife intercepted it, almost cost him his marriage then and there. She made him pay dearly for that one, went elsewhere, and for a time they both ventured outside their marriage with other lovers. New carnal thrills. She only came back to him when one of her Romeos went berserk and whipped her ass. He took her back for a time, until the whole mess started up all over again. Now he was here, waiting to collect, waiting to get the reward of a very special night. Itd better be worth it.
“Are we still cool?” she asked. “I need to know.”
He was still somewhere in his head, mulling over old terrain. He’d heard her question but didn’t answer right away.
“Hey, Terry, are we still tight or what?” she asked with teeth in her words. “You’re taking too long to answer. Don’t scare me, man. Don’t get shaky on me now, not when I need you most.”
“No problem, sweetheart,” he replied halfheartedly. “It’s all good. I’m in this to the limit, to the end. You and me.”
Close to tears, she leaned back on the bed. “Don’t fuck this up. I’m counting on you.”
That short explosion of talk had certainly altered the mood in the room, settled something between them, and now he looked at her, really looked at her. Amina. Without the fog and haze of their situation blocking his view, he saw she was possibly one of the finest women he’d ever met, a real fox. Bronze, curly black hair, classic looks, a puffed mouth that guys would love to kiss, and the leggy body of a model with full, natural breasts. No silicone, not like his insecure ex-wife.
It was time to collect. Through the window, he could see the full golden moon rising in the dark blue of the Mexican sky, an Aztec night with infinite possibilities. Her hand on his rod broke him out of his thoughts and it sprang back to life, lengthening. He scooted back to her again, landing quick feather kisses at the soft base of her neck, up on her eyelids, and then down around her nipples. Slipping one nipple at a time into his mouth, he worked on them with consummate skill, all the while stroking her between the legs, teasing her clit with his thumb. She seemed to relax, submitting to her body’s urges, her eyes rolling back in her head, ecstatic, as he trailed his tongue along the smooth flesh of her inner thigh, sending a long surge of heat up into her stomach. When he traced his tongue in soft motion along the soft, meaty folds of her sex, she wiggled underneath him, her hips lifting off the bed. He parted her restless legs even more with his rough hands, his nose pressed against that precious slit, his mouth relentless against it. Her moans increased in volume as he slipped expertly deeper down into the wet, fragrant cleft between her legs, the pink snake in his mouth exploring the sensitive nerves just inside her box, rotating and caressing her into new levels of desire, until she grabbed his head and held him hard and fast there. After her moist body trembled a second and third time, she broke off his oral assault on her and told him it was her turn to please.
Slowly, she moved over him on all fours, her butt high in the air, stopping only when her face was mere inches from his dick. She gripped it at the base, squeezing the engorged flesh until it became this monstrous thing of a deep violet hue with thick veins crisscrossing its shaft. Giggling to herself, she took him into her mouth, sucking and humming, head bobbing, bathing it with hot breath on her tantalizing downstroke. His legs quivered and bounced on the bed from the waves of pleasure rushing through his entire body. Her hands cupping his ass, she drove him deep into her throat, as if she was determined to swallow him whole.
“Easy, baby, easy,” he mumbled, feeling himself close to the brink. “Stand up, follow me. I don’t want to get my knees scraped up.”
She followed his lead and got up, with him watching her every sultry move. It was as if they were young lovers, unable to keep their hands off each other: their first night of passion together. He cleared off the top of a wobbly wooden table against the far wall, knocking everything in haste onto the floor. Neither of them spoke. He motioned for her to come, kneel over the chair onto the table, with her smooth, unblemished brown ass turned toward him. When he rasped for her to show it to him before he entered her softness, she did as he asked. Ravishing thugass thoughts. Of taking her long and strong.
Passively, she showed it to him longer, her glistening pinkness. He moved in behind her, breathing in short bursts, entering her gently, grinding against her with purpose, each hand gripping a finely formed butt cheek. Each plunge was rapture. He accelerated his rhythm, picked up the pace as she arched up to meet his thrusts, her hands powerfully grasping the table.
“Tell me you love me,” she said in that deep red voice. “Tell me, Terry.”
He didn’t want to appear soft, a wimp, so he said nothing. He kept busy, rolling his hips, feeling himself pulse inside her. She reared back, opened her legs wider, letting him slip even farther into her, into her sweetness, making a hissing sound much as an agitated cat would do. She wanted him.
He gasped, gripped her shoulders now as he urgently pumped into the back of her womb. At the same time, he felt her change her tempo, rocking her plump ass against him in faster, wilder circles. They banged harder into one another, lunges, and this was crazy love. Maddening, animal passion like he’d never experienced before. He felt her dripping, wet on him to the base, tightening around him. She vibrated again and again like an unruly tuning fork, as though she sensed every throbbing inch of him inside her, her fingers moving slow and intense on the swollen nub where the centre of her pleasure lived.