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And too often huge phone bills threatened their communication and their delicious, erotic phone sex play. He would sit at the phone, wrapped in a blanket, while she lay on her bed, each whispering and stroking themselves to orgasm.
“Hold it in your hand and look at it, baby,” she breathed. “See that line underneath going to the head of your dick? That’s the spot I like and the spot I’m going to lick when I have you in my bed—when I lay you down, straddle you, and wet you with my honey from top to bottom. I wish you could see my pussy now, baby. I wish you could feel my pussy muscles put a hold on your dick and suck it dry. It’s wet and juicy and my finger is going in and out and it’s making that sound that drives you crazy and you know you like how it smells when I’m hot. Just waiting for you to suck it and lick it, baby. Just waiting for you to lap it up like cream.”
He heard her make a soft, hissing sound. He knew she was about to come and whispered, “Come on, baby….” The sound of her pleasure caused his seed to shoot out into the tissue he held in his hand under the blanket. “Whew…mm, mm, mm,” he breathed. “Can’t wait for another bedtime story, baby.”
Her love sustained him in prison and his love supported her wait for him. She listened to Al Jarreau a lot. His songs were soothing to her in the middle of the night when she especially missed Nasir, and these words were their anthem: “The love that heals the wound after the war is through.” Their pledge to each other was that nothing and no one could break the circle they created for themselves. They would be together “forever and a day.”
True to their word, two years later, they stood together.
“Don’t turn around,” she whispe
red softly, standing close enough for him to feel her warmth and again smell the vanilla and sandalwood scent he had used on her body that first time. Soft hands gently covered each side of his chest, her fingers stroking his nipples through the down of hair covering his torso. A deep sigh escaped his lips, turning to soft gasps of pleasure as her tongue flicked in and out of his ear, a particular point of pleasure for him. Her travels took her from the nape of his neck to the curve of his behind, while stroking him into an iron-hard erection.
Standing before him again, she slowly removed her rose-colored robe, followed by each item of pastel pink lingerie, which made a pool of silk before him on the floor. She remembered that he liked her in pink, and in preparation for this day had made a special-order selection from a sister-owned adult fantasy boutique in the city.
He bent to pick the garments up, bringing them to his face, inhaling her scent. His eyes devoured her beauty as he spoke. “Forever and a day is how long we said we’d be together. But while I was away, I would lie awake at night, replaying in my mind the times we were together, aching with wanting you and stroking myself thinking of you. I was imagining how it could be again and tried to rid myself of the thoughts of another man loving you, touching and tasting you instead of me.”
Her words reassured him as her touch continued to arouse him. “I want a man that I can depend on, a man who won’t make me hold my breath and wonder what’s next. I have always believed that man was you and never gave away what I always felt was yours. If there were someone else, I would have told you. If there were someone else, this room with you and me together would not happen. You have always been the man for me.”
Following a deep and passionate kiss, he began to take his tongue down the center of her body. Remembering how sexually sensitive they were, he left a heated trail across each of her swollen nipples, licking circles around them and stroking each with the pads of his thumbs. “Oh…my…God!” she gasped, each word punctuated with pleasure. Reaching between her legs, he searched for and found her wet, diamond-hard clitoris. Encircling it with his finger, he began to slide it back and forth, in and out of her “sweet spot” as he loved to call it. She worked her hips in time with his touch, and with her eyes closed, completely abandoned herself to the pleasure building at her center.
His tongue found its way to that same spot, exploring, encircling, and inserting itself wherever he could give her the most pleasure. Gently trembling at first, she began to shudder and cry out softly, “Oh, oh, baby, I’m coming…” Raising herself to a half-seated position, hands gripping his hair to ensure that his tongue stayed on target, she worked her hips in rhythm with him until the sensation took her over the edge and she fell into an erupting, explosive climax.
Weak from pleasure but aroused again by her lover’s scent, she rested her cheek against the thick, soft hair at the base of his penis and ran her fingers through his thatch, up to caress his stomach and down to his waiting erection. He laid himself on her tongue and she took him in small swallows until he was completely encircled by her warm, wet mouth. As she slowly released him, his breathing quickened and his hands drew her mouth back for more.
Holding his slick erection in one hand, she slowly licked the length of him, lifting his penis and then sliding her tongue down to his testicles. One by one, she sucked them into her mouth, in and out, loving them with her tongue. Leaning into his own pleasure, he cried out, “Give it to me, baby!” as he made love to her mouth. Eyes closed in ecstasy, the roll of his hips quickened as he thrust deeper into her mouth. “Ah, ah, ah! Give it to me, baby!” he gasped. She didn’t lose the rhythm or a drop as he exploded deep into her throat.
Entwined, they kissed each other’s taste onto their lips, happy in the knowledge that the chemistry that had always created such passion was still there and would always be for years to come. Their “forever and a day” had just begun.
Grocery Gettin’
Eileen M. Johnson
“ ‘Yester-me, yester-you, yester-daaa-aaa-aay!’ ” Singing along with Stevie Wonder, I swung into the parking lot of Albertsons. Gene left a message saying that when he got back to New Orleans tonight, he wanted to go out for surf ’n’ turf. After a day of unsuccessfully trying to adjust to my new work schedule, the last thing I felt like doing was getting dressed, driving across town, waiting for a table, and then waiting for our food.
Instead, I decided to stop at Albertsons on my way home. Gene would get his surf ’n turf wish fulfilled but it would be served much more cheaply and in the comfort of my own home.
Temporarily telling Stevie good-bye, I turned off the ignition and got out of the car. The university had recently adopted a dressy casual policy for faculty and although I was comfortable, I was hot! My khakis stuck to my thighs as the late afternoon heat engulfed the city.
Walking into the welcoming, artificial coolness of the supermarket, I dropped my purse into a basket and listlessly pushed it toward the meat department. Stopping in front of the beef cooler, I picked over the New York strips. Finding a suitable pair for a decent price, I tossed them into the basket. Moving on to the seafood department, I planned on quickly picking up two lobsters and hurrying back home.
Gene and I had only been seeing each other for two months but I had already grown weary of his finicky appetite. The only things he seemed to like were things that I either detested or hated to prepare. For years, I’d watched my mother, her mother, and my great-granny cook everything from quiche to consommé to pigs’ feet to portabellas. There was no doubt that I knew my way around the kitchen, but Gene found flaws in everything that I set in front of him. Jokingly, I sometimes wondered to myself if he found my pussy to be bland and undercooked when he ate it.
Giggling to myself, I stopped in front of the lobster tank. Bending down, I tried to spot two that looked large enough for me to pay nine dollars a pound.
“Let me have him, him, and her,” a smooth male voice on the other side of the tank was saying. “I’m going to grill the tails so I need really plump ones.”
Smiling like a man who was satisfied with himself, the man watched as the clerk used tongs to extract three lobsters from the tank. He was dark brown, tall, and lanky. A little too thin for my tastes, but his smile was intriguing the hell out of me.
“Did I take the ones you wanted?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement.
“No. I am going to take these two,” I said as I motioned toward a pair that were playfully clawing at each other.
“Just checking. I have the habit of taking what I want,” he said in a voice filled with innuendo. Eyeing me openly, he slowly ran his tongue along his top lip.
“Is that so?” I asked, playing along. “How can you take what is being given to you willingly?”
“Well, sometimes people insist that they want to give it to me but they renege and I wind up having to take it.”
