Best Black Women's Erotica (8 page)

Actually I couldn't remember the last time a man gave me a nice compliment. Usually some ass would leave his telephone number at my table along with a so-so tip. Or I'd be filing something at the real estate office, turn around, and see some old bastard checking me out.

George stared at the bottles behind the bar. As he took a last hit from his cigarette, I noticed a small mole high up near his cheekbone. “I would love to cook dinner for you. Why don't you come to my place and I'll make a nice dish from the Dominican.
Arroz con habichuelas. Pollo guisado.
All delicious.”

“Nuh-uh. No way. You could take me home and make me for dinner.”

“I don't want to hurt you. I want to cook for you.”

“I don't think so.”

We were quiet again before he asked if he could buy me another drink. When he took out his wallet I eyed all those bills. What must it be like to have your wallet full of money like that? I wondered. What must it feel like not to have to count every fucking penny? He tapped his glass to mine when the drinks arrived then rested his hand on his hip and watched me take a sip of my drink. “I really think you are beautiful. No bullshit. I understand that you don't want to come to my place. Why don't you allow me to take you out? I'll take you someplace nice.”

I took another sip and looked around the bar. A few more people had trickled in, but the place was far from full. I glanced over at Doris Ann. She had her arm hanging over Corduroy's shoulder and the two dipped and swayed to an'80s pop song. I pictured her at the restaurant where she worked, dressed in a pink apron, carrying a pad and pencil.
I've been waitin' tables since I was sixteen!
Tomorrow, I knew, I'd be doing the same thing. Come six o'clock after the four hours I put in at the real estate office, I'd be hustling for tips. I turned to George and glanced down at his wallet, which he'd sat next to his drink. The offer for dinner was nice and all, but I was more interested in money—his money. What was the difference, really, between hustling for a tip and maybe trying to get George to share a little bit of his wealth? What was wrong with seeing how much I could get?

And so I put my hand on his thigh, leaned in so that our lips almost touched. “I have an idea.”

“What's that?”

“I'll give you a kiss if you give me one of those bills in your wallet.”

I figured all he had to do was say no. And to be honest, a large part of me expected him to say no.

But he didn't. He kept his face close to mine as he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. Just like that. Fifty dollars for a kiss.

I smiled as I took the bill, waved it in the air. “Really?” He nodded yes.

So I moved in and pressed my lips against his and then because, hell, he'd given me fifty dollars, I parted his lips with my tongue, sliding it into his mouth and wrapping it around his, letting it feel the tip then pressing it deep inside his mouth.

We pulled apart after Doris Ann yelled out from the dance floor. The Ojays were playing again and she was sticking her finger in the air like John Travolta in
Saturday Night Fever.

I was staring down at the fifty when George touched the side of my bare arm with the tip of his fingers and brushed lightly back and forth. “Come home with me.” Now that we had kissed I noticed his lips were better than nice. They were beautiful, really. Full, almost pouty.

I kissed the mole on his cheek. “You're too old for me,” I teased.

He leaned back and grinned. “What does age have to do with sharing a bottle of good wine and food?”

But I wanted to keep playing kissing for dollars. The combination of easy money, alcohol, and a man who knew how to kiss was more of a thrill than I thought it would be. Something about getting that fifty made me feel better than I had in a while. Confident. Sexy. Besides, the first fifty was so easy, why stop now?

I crossed my legs so that my skirt rose up across my brown thighs, then leaned over and traced his ear with my tongue, slowly following along the edge, letting it leave a wet trail. “Instead of dinner, how about another kiss?”

George held my face between his hands and began covering me with soft, light kisses. When he moved toward my lips I pushed him away. “No, no. That's not what I meant.” I rubbed my fingers in the air as a hint. “Like last time,” I said.

His small brown eyes studied mine. When he saw that I was serious he went for his wallet and took out another fifty. He put it in my hand and held it there before bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

“Thank you.”

“Yes, but what about my kiss?”

I smiled and put my arms around him. We kissed harder this time. Our tongues searching each other's mouths. When I could feel his hands on my waist, gripping me as though, if he could, he'd pick me up and sit me on his lap, I pulled back and whispered against his ear. “I'll tell you what. Give me a hundred and I'll let you put your finger inside me.”

He kept his hands on my waist and touched his forehead to mine. “I really want to have dinner with you. We don't have to play these games.”

“I know you want to.”

He shook his head slightly.

But the alcohol was helping me feel bold and brave. I took his hand and led him to the booth furthest away from the door. After we sat down, I looked around the bar to make sure no one was watching and then hiked my skirt up so he could see my black panties, so he could see me move my panties over and glide my finger deep inside my vagina. My finger glistened after I pulled it out. I gave it a wiggle then ran it from the top of his forehead to just under his nose until he closed his eyes and inhaled.

He took out a bill and handed it to me before taking my finger and putting it in his mouth, sucking on it with closed eyes.

I looked around the bar again. Heads stared down into drinks. A couple moved together on the dance floor. Doris Ann
was playing pool with Corduroy as another man watched. I took George's hand and moved it toward my waist. He kissed the side of my face as he pulled my panties aside with the hook of his finger then slowly slid his finger inside me. I tried my best to keep my eyes open, to watch him watching me, but once I felt his finger I let my head fall back. I was almost embarrassed at how wet I was. It had been so long, my body felt like it was made of nothing more than a single aching need.

“Do you like that?” he said, pushing his thick finger in deeper. He slipped another finger in and glided them both in and out with a steady pressure. He kissed my neck as I tried my best to rock my hips against the rhythm of his fingers. I was surprised by how much I wanted him.

“I want to taste your pussy,” he whispered. “I want to taste you in my mouth.”

I opened my eyes and held his chin in my hand. “Two hundred.”

He took out two bills and held them up in the air. “Fine.”

I snatched the money before he could change his mind then stood and motioned toward the door.

Doris Ann was still playing pool as we made our way out. “You leavin' already?”

“No,” I said over the awful music. “Just getting some fresh air.”

I led George out to the parking lot. The cold air helped me come off my buzz some, but I was definitely drunk. There was a single light over the back door of the Chinese restaurant, but it wasn't bright enough to light the entire parking lot. Five or six cars were parked here and there. George and I hid in the back between a brick wall and a delivery truck with Chinese lettering. The only way we could be seen was if someone stood directly in front of us.

George kept his face directly in front of mine as he drove his hands under my blouse, lifting my bra so that he could run
his cool fingertips over my breasts. When he felt my nipples harden, he unlatched my bra and took both my breasts in his hands, squeezing and caressing them. When he felt my body begin to sway, he got on his knees and lifted my skirt. He rubbed my thighs and ass while staring up into my face and then finally began to roll my panties down my legs, slowly, carefully, as if I were a delicacy he wanted to savor.

He paused when he saw me naked like that. “My God,” he said. “My God.” And then he buried his face in my pubic hair, taking a long deep breath before finally pressing his tongue against my clitoris. I clutched the bills he'd given me in one hand and with the other held the back of his head, running my fingers through his thick hair. He moved his tongue inside me, pushing in deeper and deeper while using a finger to play with my clit. He used his finger and tongue until I could feel myself on the verge of coming. “Jorge,” I said, my voice sounding far, far away. “Jorge…I…”

He stood up and pressed his body into mine. His breath was hot against my face and smelled of gin. “What?” he asked, kissing my neck. “What, Leah? Tell me.” I could feel his cold belt buckle against my bare stomach, his erection pushing itself against my naked pelvis. I wanted to say that I wanted more. I wanted to say that I wanted to feel him inside of me. I wanted to say I'd never had it so good. But instead I tried my best to catch my breath, to gather my thoughts. He put both hands up against the wall as though he were trapping me. “What were you going to say, Miss Leah?”

I unzipped his pants, pressed my hand against his stomach and carefully slid it down the inside of his underwear so I could wrap it around his penis. I started kissing his neck, inhaling his musk cologne. “I was going to ask if you want more.”

I could feel his penis throbbing inside my hand, thick, warm, and then he let his body move forward, his mouth
ready to kiss me. “Yeah, I want more. How much, huh? How much does it cost to fuck you?”

I ran my thumb over the tip of his penis and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Another two.”

He took a step back then. His shirt was coming out of his pants, his hair disheveled, but he looked handsome in that parking lot. The night shadows cutting across his face. “Okay,” he whispered. He moved forward again and this time took my breasts in his hands with more force, reaching down and kissing them, sucking hard on one nipple and then the other. I let my head fall back so that I was staring straight up into the dark sky. My mouth fell open, my hands scraped against the brick wall searching for something to grasp. I let out a moan and then pulled his underwear down and stroked his penis faster and then faster still. He slid a finger inside me, then another. His breath was measured and quiet, but then he said something in Spanish and turned me around so that my back was to him. He licked my ear before bending me over, before running his soft nails down my back. He cupped my breasts and pressed his pelvis against my ass. I reached back and pulled at his thighs, then spread my legs apart to urge him inside. I heard him fumbling with something and realized he was putting on a condom. When it was on, he knelt down and spread my legs even further. He stared at my wet sex before licking it, kissing it, before pulling my butt cheeks apart and licking harder.

“Do you want me inside of you?”

I wiggled my ass in his face. “Yeah, Jorge. Yeah.”

He stood and cupped my breasts, ran his tongue up my back and then placed his hands at my hips. He pushed his entire penis inside of me with one hard thrust. He gripped me tighter at the waist so he could pull my body into his, pushing his penis in and out with full force. My entire body was upside down, my hair falling over, my fingertips brushing against the
asphalt. All I could feel was his cock pushing deeper, faster, harder. And that was all I wanted to feel. I was moaning, in fact, moaning so loud he had to cover my mouth.

He turned me around suddenly and in one motion picked me up high in the air, nudging my legs so that I knew to wrap them around his waist. When I did, he lifted me up onto his penis then pulled me down. I buried my face in his neck and let out a whimper as I felt him inside me again. The new position made his penis feel longer, thicker. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and shoulders as he lifted me up and brought me down, bringing my body again and again against his penis. I put my hand over my mouth when I felt myself coming and let out a muffled moan. But George didn't stop. He kept going, lifting me up and down until he took my breasts in his mouth and sucked hard on my nipple. He swung me up again and our heads fell back at the same time. I felt his penis quiver inside me as he let my body fall against his one last time.

We stood like that, me up in his arms, my head buried in his neck, breathing in unison like worn-out dancers afraid to pull apart. But then we heard Doris Ann's voice coming from the edge of the parking lot. “Hey, Leah, are you back there? Something was telling me you might need my help.”

Our bodies began to untwine, moving slowly as though we were finally remembering where we were, remembering that we were in a parking lot behind a bar, two people who hardly knew each other. George let me go and we both started straightening our clothes.

Doris Ann spoke loudly this time. “Is that you back there? You okay?”

“Yeah, Doris Ann, I'm fine. I had to get some air.”

George was shaking his head as he tucked in his shirt. “I wanted dinner, you know?” he said, half chuckling. “I thought you were beautiful and wanted to do something
nice.” A part of me wanted to suggest that we still could have dinner together, but he went for his wallet and took out two bills. He shoved the bills into my hands and then held my arm so that I would look at him. “I would've paid you more,” he said. “Much more.” And then he walked away.

Doris Ann was still there when I walked out. Her eye shadow had faded and her eyeliner formed black bags under her eyes. “Are you okay?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, I'm fine.”