Decadence (4 page)

We were in. She was ours. I had a feeling
this was going to be a night to remember.

***

Chris and I have our standards, but we also
have our rules--two sets of them--really, that we strictly abide
by. Doing what we’re doing requires taking precautions or you will
end up wishing you had in the long run.

The closer I got to Chris and who I was
hoping was going to be our new little plaything, the more I was
playing over our secondary set of rules in my head, trying to
choose which tactics I was going to use on the little Caramel
bombshell.

I made my way up to the two of them and stood
close enough to Caramel to get a better look at her. I’d expected
her to smell like vanilla and sugar, like some kind of dessert
fragrance associated with toppings of whipped cream, frosting, and
sprinkles, but what I got instead was a whiff of citrus commingling
with the light aroma of sweet flowers. It was a fragrance that
suited her, and she hadn’t piled it on either, which made you want
to go in closer, put your face to her neck, inhale and feel the
heat rising from her skin along with her perfume.

“Leila,” Chris said to me. “This is Candice.
Candice, this is my girl, Leila.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said to me, leaning
in close to my ear so she wouldn’t have to scream, but also so I
could hear her clearly enough.

She still had her drink in her hand. We were
in limbo. She still needed a little nudge in our direction.

It was difficult being seductive in a club
atmosphere most of the time. You have to scream your conversation,
and words that would normally come out smooth with the ability to
put the person you’re pursuing in a particularly willing state of
mind had a tendency to come out clumsy or come across corny. You
ran that risk trying to pick up someone in a place like Oasis, but
that was some of the challenge that it made it all fun.

I decided not to beat around the bush and see
where she stood in regards to what we were throwing out at her.

I leaned in closer than necessary, let my
lips graze her ear, but not in a way that could come across as
perverted. A lot of women were under the mistaken impression that
they could approach another woman any way they felt, any way they
chose to in a sexual manner, and no one would consider them a perv
just because they were both women. That was a widely misconstrued
thought on behalf of the women who thought they could do whatever
they wanted when they wanted to anyone they wanted. I’ve seen just
as many women get drinks splashed in their faces by other women as
I’ve seen it happen to men, probably more.

“We have a place on the other side of town,”
I said, not touching any other part of her body, just letting my
lips move against her ear, letting the exhale of my breath graze
over her heated skin, cooling it, as I got a better whiff of her
perfume that I was beginning to like more the more I inhaled it.
“If you want, you can come and check it out. Did you come with
friends?”

We changed positions, she was talking to me
now, her exhale was fruit and alcohol scented, a combination that
made me want to taste it. I had to concentrate on what she was
saying to me.

“I did, but I don’t need a babysitter,” she
told me matter-of-factly rather than with any attitude. If she had
any hint of a bad attitude it would’ve been a wrap. Our little
powwow would’ve been over before it even started. Just another one
of our rules. “Where’s this place you’re talking about across
town?”

I told her the name of the building where the
condo was located. Her eyes widened enough to let me know that she
knew where it was, and she was impressed, but trying not to show
it.

“Heard of it?” I asked her, a wicked smile
curling my lips as I raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have,” she nodded.

“Are you coming for a tour of the place, or
not?” I asked her.

She nodded again. Tentatively, but definitely
consenting.

I looked at Chris whose gaze had never left
us.

We had her. I could tell. He could tell. She
was ours.

***

Chris hangs back, walking a few paces behind
the two of us as I lead the way to the parking lot, my hand
alternating being on Candice’s lower back and then on her arm as I
keep her near me as if we’re two platonic female friends after a
night in a club and nothing more; though you never really knew what
people are thinking about you unless you ask them directly and tell
them to give you a straight answer.

Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder what
people saw when they spied myself and Chris heading out the door
with some beautiful girl. I wonder if they know what we were
heading off to do, if it was written all over our faces, our body
language, or if we’re giving off a vibe and they could feel the
sexual energy coming off us in waves.

A lot of people want to try some of the
things we do, but they either don’t have the nerve, or their moral
compass still points a certain way, but if they think for a second
that what we end up doing comes from a simple meet and greet in a
club, they’re sadly mistaken. What we do comes from an intricately
designed plan constructed by myself and Chris to ensure us the
maximum amount of pleasure with the minimal amount of pain. Pain,
in this case, meaning drama. That’s the last thing either of us
need.

We’re in the Beemer tonight. A sleek black
sedan with custom black and red leather interior that is neither
mine nor Chris’s, but is one of Scott’s five cars that we’ll leave
under the parking garage at the condo we’re heading to where
neither Chris nor I actually live.

If any of the girls that we’ve ever taken
back to the condo try and hunt us down, they’ll end up hunting
ghosts. About the only things we don’t bother to fake are our first
names and our orgasms. Using fake names can get tricky, and if
you’re busted, the situation can look seedier than it really is.
Never last names. Too personal. Dangerous territory.

When we make it to the car I lean up against
it lazily as I wait for Chris and she follows my lead. My left arm
is against the warm exterior and it’s her right arm that is against
it as we face each other.

As I start the conversation.

“Do you normally leave clubs with
strangers?”

“Never,” she says the word playfully, a
little smile on her face. “And I’m not now, either. We’re
acquainted. Leila. Chris. Candice. Not strangers, we have one
another’s names.”

I like her. A lot. “What are your friends
going to think?”

“That they were in my shoes,” she tells me,
coming closer to me. “That a gorgeous guy approached me in Oasis
and then a gorgeous girl, and I left with them. They’re going to
wonder what I had that they didn’t.”

Good answer. Her voice had dipped
seductively. She had a cherubic face, flawless skin that I could
tell was smooth even underneath the thin layer of makeup she had
on. Smooth skin. Skin I wanted to touch. Caress.

Chris finally showed up with the keys.

I was already felt like I wanted to jump on
her right here and now.

But that wasn’t how this thing worked.

Patience.

Respect for the rules. Respect for the levels
of seduction.

Candice got in first, slipped over across the
seat so I would have room. Chris was driving, Candice and I were in
the backseat. Together. Alone.

Chris turned the sound system on. Willie
Hutch came on, his voice crooning out the words to his classic “I
Choose You”. The two of us had debated about using that song on the
ride back to the condo, but he’d won out. I thought it could
possibly come across as a corny cliché or somehow offensive
depending on who the girl was, but he always kept it at a low
enough volume where it just came off as the music of foreplay.

Candice and I had started out on opposite
ends of the backseat but before Chris had even backed out of the
space we’d been parked we were close enough to touch.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was on fire.
She was hot. I didn’t mind a little heat.

I leaned over, put my hand against her cheek
as our lips connected and my tongue parted her lips, invading her
mouth, my tongue connecting with her tongue.

She tasted like strawberries. My senses
tingled with her essences: citrus, the aroma of flowers,
strawberries. All of those fragrances heated by her heat as her
heat felt as if it were becoming my own.

I sucked her tongue. Licked the inside of her
mouth. Pulled her closer to me as I took my mouth away from hers
and moved my kisses down her neck to her collarbone, licked those
areas using just the tip of my tongue so I could tickle her, then I
sucked her neck, tongued those spots the same way I’d just tongued
her mouth. She moaned. Let out a series of tiny little moans that
were driving me crazy. She was powerfully responsive to my touch,
to my kisses, and we hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

She was driving me crazy, but I had to remind
myself that I was the one in control. I seemed to be driving her
crazy, but it was contagious.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time. The
way I was feeling, it felt like I had never felt this way. That was
good and bad. I couldn’t be sure where this was all headed. I’m not
sure I care.

Chris peers back every now and then, his
mouth watering. He’s usually unfazed by what’s going on in the
backseat, and I can’t help but wonder what’s happening to us. What
is this girl doing to us?

My tongue has found its way back over to her
ear, the same ear I whispered in back at the club. This time I
don’t hesitate to close my lips around the lobe, the tiny sliver of
skin that isn’t blocked with an earring. She exhales against me.
I’m so wet I could drown Chris’s dick with my juices right now.

I move my kisses back across her neck, up to
her face, and then my mouth is on hers again. I taste her as she
tastes me. I close my eyes and she becomes the aggressor, and I let
her be.

The songs have changed. Minutes have passed.
2 Pistols rap and sing over the track “She Got It” and we kiss like
mad, kiss like crazy, kiss like we’re the first and last people to
kiss on earth.

She’s wearing a white top outlined in orange.
Thin spaghetti straps that have slid down her shoulders.

Her nipples are hard underneath the
fabric.

I want to taste them.

I take the straps down from her shoulders,
fold the top down that’s covering those mounds of joy, but she’s
double strapped, wearing a strapless bra. A good one. La Perla.
It’s supportive, but damn near sheer, the same shade of orange as
the outline of her top, only the bra’s color was an all-over solid.
I reach around to her back and unsnap that apparatus, freeing those
beauties that have to be full D cups, minimum.

Those nipples. Beautiful. A pretty shade of
brown only not as quite as dark as mine. They look perfectly
scrumptious. They were peaked. I covered the right one with my
mouth as if it were my favorite flavor of Popsicle. Sucked it.
Sucked her. Had her writhing underneath me, rubbing my back, my
head, my neck, as she sung my praises. I went to the left one as
she continued to act out and act up. I loved her reaction, loving
the way she tasted, loving the feel of those nice heavy tits in my
mouth.

I couldn’t take it. Took them in my mouth
both at the same time. Worked my tongue in swirls, gave them
suction so that when I pulled my lips off them it made a popping
sound. They were wet with my saliva; now they tasted like both me
and her. She was running her fingers through my hair, driving me
crazy, further down the lane of insanity. The good kind of
insanity. The kind of insanity I welcomed with an open mouth, open
mind, and spread thighs.

I came up for air. Looked into her face.
Looked at the way she wanted it. She wanted more than I was
giving.

I reached down, unbuttoned and unzipped her
jeans. As I did it she stroked me with her hands. I could feel her
watching me, waiting to see what I was going to do next.

Crisp white thong with the same orange
outline as her top. Matching head to toe. She’d done a nice
contrast using the pink base for her makeup and the orange with her
outfit and underwear. Didn’t want to overdo it.

I took her jeans off, threw them down on the
floor, but I took my time taking off that tiny sliver of fabric
separating me from her sex. Took my time kissing her stomach,
around her belly button ring as I eased that material off of her.
Let my kisses go lower, but stopped them just before my lips
reached that sweetness.

Ginuwine’s voice rang out from the speakers.
His song telling us that it was not his girl’s girls’ business what
they were doing.

I got the thong all the way off. Moved my
face back up to hers, gave her a kiss on the lips as our eyes met,
her sugar-coated brown eyes staring back at my hazel eyes letting
me know that this teasing was driving her up a wall.

Touché.

But I couldn’t show it. Had to pretend that
what I was feeling was control and calm, that controlled calm that
I usually had in this situation, but it had somehow abandoned me
this time. But pretending was my job, or at least a part of it.
Chris and I were playing characters. We were used to playing
certain roles. I just had to remind myself of that and I knew
everything would be alright.

I moved back down, got a good look at those
luscious breasts before feasting on them again. I went at them with
more ferocity. Had her begging me not to stop going at them. I had
no intention to.

I moved my hand down.
Didn’t slow my roll with my mouth, but moved my left hand down
between her thighs and into that area where I felt the heat before
even touching it. I moved her legs apart a little more. Not shaved,
not Naired, but either she’d had her kitty cat waxed or she’d had
laser hair removal done. I let my fingers glide over her slit, felt
all of the moisture that had accumulated from that tiny little hole
between her legs. Felt her arousal on my fingers, then my hand as I
rubbed that sweet spot. I felt a shudder go through her. Felt her
body tremble like she had a chill as she kept whispering the
word
please please please
please please please
over and over and
over again.