AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My eyes fall back to her impressive cleavage like they’re magnetized. “I’m quite infatuated with both, in case you’re wondering.”
“Good to know.” Her tone is playful but her eyes are heated.
We fall into a comfortable silence for the last few minutes of the short ride to our next destination. Music pumps out of several buildings into the night air, drumming up Imala’s excitement. Food and spices scent the air and tipsy people totter along the sidewalks looking for the next bit of trouble.
“I want beads!” she beams with an excited clap.
I pull her to me roughly and kiss her lips. “Hell, no. I’m the only one who gets to see your tits. I’m sure I can buy you some.”
“That’s fair. I want to start with a grenade.” She points at the drink shop on the corner then pulls me in that direction.
The line moves surprisingly fast and I get a drink for solidarity. Imala’s is the Hand Grenade and mine the Horny Gator; the titles are fitting because she’s blown up my life in ways I haven’t expected and I’m definitely horny. We sip our drinks as we walk around soaking in the nightlife. Imala finished her big drink faster than I expected. She dips into another drink shop and reappears with a smaller drink.
“This one is called a Hurricane,” she announces like I needed a recommendation.
The glaze in her eyes means the alcohol is doing its job. The next place we pass with live music draws Imala’s attention. She pumps her fist in the air, lets out a sorority girl squeal, and pulls me inside.
The building has all the historical charm one expects from the French Quarter. I’d expected Zydeco or jazz, but the live band is doing a mix of 90s and early 2000s R&B, which gives Imala all the dance feels. The lady with her natural afro adorned with a flower on the side belts out the tunes so smoothly I’m impressed. We watch, swaying with the song as I enjoy the trip down memory lane.
I’m sure Imala has heard most of these songs but I have memories attached to some of them. School dances, unauthorized parties, and make-out sessions to name a few. There’s nothing like trying to see a girl's tits while Avant croons about making good love.
The band announces an hour break and the DJ takes over. Apparently, a dance party cannot begin until after women are encouraged to back their asses up. I’m polishing off a new drink as I watch my wife follow instructions too damn well. It reminds me of Oran’s wedding. Imala in her drinks having too much fun on the dance floor. This time she’s my wife and I’m allowed to touch her.
Plus, if she pops it a little too hard, her tiny dress ensures her ass will be on display. Gulping the rest of my drink, I do what any respectable husband would- I stand behind her, grab her waist, and encourage her to grind on me like it’s her job.
Damn, she does it so well that I’m over the party after a few songs. I spin her to face me but that doesn’t stop her desire to dry-hump me. Now, her hands slide up my abdomen and chest.
The music blares and I feel the beat coursing through my body and preparing me for all that comes after. Locking eyes with me, she dips it low and picks it up slow just how Christina Milian suggests. I feel capable of dragging her out, but the Beyoncé mix has her excited. Imala continues to dance with me, singing along while promising to be my naughty girl and upgrading me. The next snippet starts with the beginning of Baby Boy. Imala sings to me, moaning along with the song but I can’t take it beyond her moaning to be hurt so good.
Pushing her into a secluded corner, I hook my finger and tug at the top until a pert nipple pops out to greet me. I clamp my mouth on my new friend like it’s the source to quench my thirst. She bucks against me, making a sound of sweet surrender that ensures me she’s down for anything. Imala’s leg slides up my body to lock on my waist, pushing her already short dress further up her hips. I groan as I continue to tease her with the tip of my tongue. All the important parts are so easy to access right now.
Imala moans as she humps the thigh I have pressed between hers.
“I want to ride you, Wyn,” she says near my ear so she can be heard over the loud music.
I tear my mouth away from her sweet nipple to respond. “My dick or face?”
Her dark eyes flutter open to look at me. “Both.” She cups my face like I usually grab hers. “Please me with your face then impale me with your dick.”
Imala’s request has be so primed and ready to fuck, I can’t do anything but release a shuddering sigh. Normally, I’d do everything she’s asking right here on the spot without giving a single fuck that we’re in public, but she’s an heiress and we know how that goes. Meeting in the middle, I snake a hand between us and watch her plush lips part as I play with her pussy.
“Imala, my innocent wife, what’s gotten into you?” I tease her. My teeth sink into the delicate flesh of her lower lip.
“You.” She removes my hand and sucks the two fingers that were just inside of her. My dick cries about being trapped. “Now, I’ve tasted the Old Fashioned. I must agree, both taste good.”
“I want to be inside of you right now.”
“Let’s go so you can,” she orders.
I pull her into a kiss, dipping my tongue into her mouth. I communicate exactly what’s going to happen. She whimpers when I pull away but I’m the one sexually flustered when she rubs my dick through my pants.
“Fuck, I might have to be like Oran and ban alcohol,” l grind out the words as I grab her ass.
“You could, or you can appreciate knowing that it has me on the verge of cuming just from the thought of you tasting me.”
"That's sexy but fuck the verge. I want you wet and writhing beneath me as an orgasm threatens to take your life." I stop talking to steal a brief kiss. "And just as you begin to relax, give you another."
Imala's eyes are wild with lust and a little glassy from the alcohol.
