Best Black Women's Erotica 2 (3 page)

“Hello? Hey, sweetheart.”

Biira looked up at me from between my legs with her hooded eyes, but her full lips were still. That accent was not hers; it was not even Ugandan; it was not even a woman's voice at all.

Sweetie?…

I shook awake. “Nicole?”

My head was bowed and as I opened my eyes I saw through my new hanging twists that the same brown loafers I had sent Daudi away with on Monday were somehow on the floor in front of me.

One-two-three, Biira never stopped.

“Babes, you're back,” I said sleepily. As I came to I felt strangely embarrassed. It took me a minute to realize I was not naked, and apparently I was the only one who knew about my quick affair. Even Biira twisted on, one-two-three, with hardly a hesitation.

I looked up in time to catch Daudi's shoulders bouncing with his teasing, mock laughter.

“You were out, Bwana.”

“Hi, I'm Daudi.” He directed his voice above my head to both Biira and Penninah.

“Hello,” they both replied softly.

“We are almost done. We just have to trim the hair,” Penninah assured him.

“Hey, sweetie,” I tried to recover, passing my hands over my lips. “You're early.”

As Daudi set his bag down and disappeared for a beer, his voice sailed back to the living room. “I took an earlier flight. Surprise!”

He returned to sit on the couch across from us while they finished trimming, and then he started chattering something about his week. Even the snipping seemed to clip in the same rhythm, one-two-three.

I felt exposed, but my visit with Biira was unfinished. Daudi had unknowingly interrupted something terribly delicious. I clearly wasn't going to be able to get it back with an audience. Especially an audience of my lover.

Unfortunately, too soon the rhythm of Penninah and Biira ended. They seemed to know they were now unwanted. They briskly cleaned the littering hairs from the floor, collected
payment, and breezed out of the door in almost the same way they came in. From the doorstep I stood watching them, especially Biira, as the evening breeze lifted her skirt from her hips. Thanks to the now-shining sun, I could see the slight silhouette of her thighs through the fabric. She didn't turn, she just disappeared with Penninah through the black iron gate of our compound, and the watchman closed the latch behind them. Clearly my tangle with Biira, albeit purely mental, was nothing, I rationalized. I was obviously just really horny. As the gate clanged shut, I felt Daudi's familiar hands circle my stomach. “Your hair looks nice.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning to him.

Our bodies felt humid as we, against all local social taboos, tongue-kissed publicly on our doorstep. I am sure we drew the horrified stares of our missionary neighbors, but I didn't really care.

As I pressed my groin against his, Biira's tapping fingers seemed to disappear. Perhaps her imagined touch was merely an appetizer as I remembered all the familiarity of this man.

While it is hard to run upstairs in flip-flops, while stripping naked, we made it to our bedroom just as the pinkening-dusk sky started to stain our white curtains. As we somehow fell sideways on our mattress, I could smell the toxic beginnings of burning garbage seeping through the screen. We lay there for a minute, Daudi's body cupping my backside, then he slipped his fingers in me, feeling the wet remnants of my adultery. The swell of his dick against my ass assured me he thought it was all about him.

“Did you miss me, Bwana?” he gruffly whispered against the back of my neck, now covered with braids.

I didn't answer, I just rolled backward and lifted my ass so that I could grind my hips on his until he entered me. After some twelve hours of foreplay, making love was out of the question. I needed Daudi to fuck me. Daudi knew my rhythm
and asked no questions as he rolled me over with force to enter me from behind. There was absolutely nothing like the way his dick filled every corner of my slick core, the way his balls danced against my ass with each hopeful thrust of his hips.

“Where are you, Bwana?” I eventually asked, as his middle finger so deftly massaged my clitoris. “I'm not gonna last long,” I warned.

“I'm at eight,” he huffed. We often played a numbers game: putting numerical values on our proximity to orgasm.

Good, I thought. As our scale was one to ten, ten being climax, I would not have to feel that little tingle of guilt that sometimes riddled my gut after belting out an orgasm, and leaving him to pump for himself.

With that encouragement he slid both of his hands to my hanging breasts, gripping them like bicycle handles, and continued to thrust into me. With a twist of my body I gently coaxed him to his back. My swollen pussy needed the attention that only “woman on top” could most often achieve, and I ferociously gripped the wooden headboard as I lowered myself onto his graciously slick and standing dick.

The corners of Daudi's eyelids wrinkled with a slight encouraging smirk as he grabbed my hips and aided my undulation. I shut my eyes just as my upper thighs clenched and I felt the rumbling rise of glorious orgasm fan itself from the base of my spine and rise through my ass. With each slurping dig of my pussy my breath took on sound and I stuttered a moan.

Daudi's hands kneading my ass onto his dick got more vigorous as the final convulsion of orgasm swept me to lower to his chest, allowing our nipples to play a sticky form of tag. As my entire body quivered, he pounded and purred in perfect rhythm, “I've got you, Bwana, I've got you.”

I felt his familiar rising moan with my chin at the base of his neck, and he got louder as he came in me in short thrusts
of his thick, warm fluid. I relaxed into a full collapse on his chest and measured his racing heart with my sternum while he circled my dripping back with his arms.

As we lay, I nearly felt the commencing first storm of the rainy season as the tapping-thud of heavy raindrops rose to rapid-fire thunder on the balcony outside our door. The rain simultaneously washed away sunset, the stench of the trash, and the conflict of my philandering thoughts. Another tapping rhythm—one-two-three—brought on evening in Kampala, as I listened to the rise of Daudi's soft snore.

 

 

 

 

Kai felt a hand nudge her in the small of her back. She turned to see Red standing there, grinning like a jack-o'-lantern, a Cheshire cat, or anything with more teeth than mouth. She smiled, then looked away, knowing he would want to know where was that phone call she had promised him when he was deep inside her making her gasp for breath and hold down the sounds that she knew would wake her roommates. Over his shoulder, she could see the bodies humping and jerking on the dance floor. He waited silently as she pushed her hair back and fastened her eyes on his chest. She felt him searching her face for answers as her eyes wandered down his body, stopping finally at his feet.

“Look at those shoes,” she said.

“D'ya like them? They're so comfortable,” he said, eyes pleading, mouth still cracked in two.

“They're kind of strange,” she said and paused. Her gaze left the shoes, ran up his legs, and hovered over the flat brown stomach peeking out beneath his shirt. “But I like your pants.”

“My shoes, my pants. Woman, is that all you have to say?”

Kai threw a darting glance into the expectation hovering over his face, then tilted her face up to the ceiling. She shrugged her shoulders and shifted uncomfortably. He continued grinning. She could feel his energy reaching for her, could feel the tension radiating from his body. She leaned back and rested her hip against the bar. A skinny, glossy girl with a lit cigarette and an overflowing cosmopolitan wedged her way between them. Red grabbed Kai by the waist as soon as the girl had slithered past. His hands on her waist were solid and confident, as they had been when he was dragging her across her futon, lifting her knees, spreading her open, guiding her into one position after another. Kai obeyed the pressure of Red's hands and squeezed through the sweaty crowd. Situating herself in a quiet corner near the restroom, she turned to face Red with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

“Talk to me,” Red said.

Kai looked straight into his eyes and said nothing. How do you tell a man his dick is sweet but you don't quite like the rest of him? A smirk slipped over her lips as her mind maniacally worked through phrases and explanations.

“Kai,” Red said.

Kai snapped out of her thoughts and focused on Red again. His dark chocolate skin, his glimmering eyes, his wide grin, the disarming energy that overwhelmed her—all threatened to swallow her whole.

“Listen, what happened last week was good, but it was… totally…unexpected, and I thought I'd just let it ride.”

The words came slowly, in hesitant spurts, then tumbled out in a quick jumble of words.

“What do you mean, let it ride?” Red asked, gently hooking his finger into the front pocket of Kai's jean skirt.

“I mean,” Kai said, letting out a heavy breath, “let it be a one-time thing.”

Red drew away from her, his bright eyes momentarily falling dark.

“You mean not do it again?”

Kai shook her head.

“But it was good, Kai, too good. You trying to tell me you wasn't feeling it?”

“I was feeling it, I was. I….”

Kai broke into a smile and stepped away from Red.

“What's up, baby? How you?” she asked, giving a short, dreadlocked man a hug.

“Chillin',” he whispered, placing a kiss full on her mouth. “You're looking scrumptious.”

“Thanks, baby.”

Kai could feel Red's frustration building behind her. She turned and rested her hand on Red's wrist. Her other hand was linked in the crook of Bey's elbow.

“Red, Bey. Bey, this is Red.”

Bey grunted a nondescript greeting in Red's direction. Red crossed his arms and slid a hard glance over Bey's body.

“Alright sis, I see you're busy,” Bey said, returning Red's challenge with a brief display of menace.

Kai let a guilty smile slip across her lips.

“I'mma be at the other side of the bar, so come check me when you're done,” Bey said, dismissing Red with a flick of his eyes.

“Yeah, a lil later,” she murmured and watched Bey saunter away.

“Kai, I don't get you,” Red said as soon as Bey was out of earshot.

Kai whipped around to face Red.

“What?”

“You chasing after niggas who won't give you the time
of day. That dude was in here ignoring you the night I met you. I'm all up in your ass and you don't want nothing to do with me.”

Kai leaned back and put her hands on her hips.

“I don't know you, Red. I spent one night with you. One.”

“And how many nights you spent with him?”

Kai let out an irritated sigh.

“What's your point?”

Kai didn't hear Red's point. While he was arguing his case, she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. She turned and dropped a little exclamation of delight from her lips. Red watched as Kai fell into some man's embrace without even saying, “excuse me.” Her head was tilted back as she giggled, laughing flirty words into this new man's ear, behaving as if Red wasn't in the middle of a conversation with her. Behind Kai's back, Red nodded a cold greeting to the stranger. The stranger raised his eyebrow and inclined his head just briefly enough for Red to know that he had seen him. Within seconds Red could hear the man saying good-bye. As soon as the stranger turned away, Red grabbed Kai by the arm and dragged her into the restroom. He slammed the door and locked it.

“So you don't want to fuck with me?” Red asked.

“No,” said Kai. “I don't.”

Red turned away from Kai and hung his hands on top of his head. Kai leaned against the door and trained her eyes on the dirty vinyl floor.

“Kai, I done slept with a million women, so I know what it's like when it's good. I know when I find somebody who can really ride with me, and you take me there, Kai. The way you were riding me….”

Kai held up her hand for Red to stop. Visions of her sitting on Red's lap, one foot on the restroom trash can, the other hugging the porcelain of the toilet, invaded her mind. Red saw the look on her face and moved in close.

“You were with me, Kai, I can see it on your face. Why are you denying it?”

Kai wouldn't speak. She let her eyes drift up to Red's. His face hovered just inches from hers. In the silence, she felt his hands go to her waist, his mouth go to her throat. She let out a breath of tension.

“Red, just stop.”

Red pulled his lips away from Kai's neck.

“Kai, you know you like it.”

“I like it, OK. I like it. Does that make you feel better?”

“No, you know what would make me feel better?” Red asked as he ran his hand up the front of Kai's skirt, his fingers nestling in the fold of Kai's thighs before barely brushing between her legs.

Kai pushed Red's hand away from her body.

“Red, I'm not going to lie to you. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed fucking you. I still think about it. Daily. But….”

“But what?”

“But….” Kai paused and looked up into Red's face. “But you're not a package.”

Red stepped back and stared at Kai from a distance.

“A package? What are you talking about?”

“Relationship material. ‘The one.' I'm trying to be in a relationship. Kicking it ain't gonna get it no more.”