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Janet Jackson’s Damito Jo album played low in the background.
She pinched her nipples, and a low moan escaped her.
Dr. Dangerfield suspected Krista—and, maybe even, LaQuandra—would be the most difficult to engage. Hell. Krista appeared to be the least creative in the bedroom out of the three women. So Dr. Dangerfield already made it up in her mind that getting her to let go of her sexual inhibitions was truly going to be the most challenging. But she lived for moments like this. Oh yes.
Dr. Dangerfield spread her thighs open and her freshly waxed pussy greeted her. She smiled as she imagined one of her secret Island lovers kneeling before her, tonguing the slit of her cunt, brushing his tongue over the hood of skin that covered her clit . . . God, yes . . . and then sucking one of her swollen labium into his hot, juicy mouth; the taste o
f her rippling over his tongue.
Mm. How decadent.
Her pussy throbbed. And yet, somehow, she managed to peel herself away from her salacious thoughts, her mind momentarily drifting back to LaQuandra Lewis.
Dr. Dangerfield believed she was the saddest, most hurt, of them all. Not solely from her strained marriage, but more so from her past. A past she was certain scarred her deeply. Mmph. At least she gave oral pleasure, Dr. Dangerfield mused. It was the least she could do with that mouth of hers. She shook her head, reaching for her bottle of Rogue by Rihanna.
She sprayed it over her body, its scent filling the room.
She inhaled, and smiled.
She had a vast collection of very high-end bottles of perfume, but this scent here was most fitting for tonight. She felt naughty, and playfully mischievous.
Roguish.
That’s what these couples were in their own way—deceptive and deceitful.
Defiant.
Destructive.
Dr. Dangerfield sighed. Same story, different set of couples.
She set the bottle back atop her vanity and then stood naked in front of her mirror and slid her diamond studs into each earlobe, before clasping her diamond choker around her slender neck. A large teardrop diamond lay perfectly in the center of her bosom.
She loved diamonds. Loved the way they came alive under the lights.
Although she was mostly business conservative in her dress during the day, she had a wild side. Bold and daring. And, tonight, she planned on showing the couples that other side of her—in her dress, that was. There was nothing wrong with being sexy, feeling sexy. There was nothing wrong with exuding sex appeal.
Being naughty.
And, on occasion, being slutty.
Dr. Dangerfield stared at herself through the mirror, and then a sly grin eased over her lips as she slid into a red silk, backless halter dress with a plunging V-neckline and side slits. The short dress was bold and daring and dangerously sexy.
Exactly like her alter ego.
Oh yes. She knew how to be slutty. Knew how to fuck and suck and pleasure herself.
And a man.
Or a woman.
Or both.
Anonymously or not, she knew how to be nasty, and take what she wanted. But she also knew how to be submissive. She knew how to give as well as she could take. Mutual pleasure. Reciprocity. That’s what lovemaking and fucking were all about—giving and taking gratification.
Dr. Dangerfield admired her lithe body, cupping her taut breasts. She plucked at her nipples until they tightened and her cunt clenched. Then she raised her arms up over her head and began a slow sensual roll of her hips as Janet sang, in her whispery voice, about getting moist. Her gaze locked on the reflection staring back at her as she drew her tongue over her upper lip and slipped a finger inside her pussy.
Oh, yes, she was very moist.
