Honey Flava

“I don’t agree,” she said weakly, her heart pounding furiously. “You must hate Chinatown, otherwise you wouldn’t down it so much.”

He could see how upset she was and ran a gentle finger down her cheek. “I just want something different and I wish people wouldn’t dwell so much in the past—rich as it is, I prefer to live in the present.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are to be able to trace your ancestors back thousands of years,” she said, her voice wistful. “To know who you are and where you came from.”

“I know what I have, sweetheart, but that’s not to say that I have to revel in it.” He pressed a kiss to her trembling lips. She just looked so scared and lost. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” He kissed her again. “Come to the reception with me?”

It took Trisha a second to catch up. “Really?”

“Yes, and after, you’ll come home with me. Agreed?” A pinch to her nipple made sure that she knew all that coming home with him would involve.

As her heart raced, Trisha could only nod.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Fifth time,” Trisha said as they walked toward his town house a few blocks away from the downtown hotel where the reception had been.

“I know I keep saying it, but you’ll just have to get used to it.” Brett grinned when she chuckled shyly. “I can’t believe you wanted to walk.”

“It’s a beautiful, warm night.”

“I wasn’t worried about the weather so much as I was about your feet in those stilettos. They must be at least four inches.”

“How do you know?”

Brett herded her toward his front door and trapped her against it. “I know because you fit my body better, and it’s easier to do this.” He bent his head and hungrily took her lips with his, his tongue sneaking out to cut a wide path through her mouth.

Trisha whimpered in the back of her throat and sucked him in hard. Her arms went around his neck and she lifted a leg to wrap around his waist.

He pushed against her, slamming her hard against the door while he ate at her mouth, using tongue and teeth. He felt the sultry heat of her pussy as she rubbed against him, begging for fulfillment, and lifting her other leg, he wrapped it around his waist so that she was straddling him fully, her heat encompassing him now. Her vagina was drenched and leaking its juices to wet her panties, tantalizing him enough to caress and finger her through the satin.

“Oh, God, Brett,” Trisha panted. It felt so good. “Let’s go insi—oh, oh, ohhhh!” He’d slid two fingers beneath her panties and into her slick opening. Her muscles clenched around them, making greedy, wet, suckling sounds as she rode the fingers furiously, pumping her hips and tightening her muscles to keep them inside. “Please, Brett, I ache,” she sobbed out.

“Hold on tight,” he told her as he pulled his fingers out. “Hush, baby,” he soothed, and kissed her lips when she mewled her disappointment. He unzipped his pants and, bracing himself with a hand against the door, ripped her panties away.

The cool air against her hot flesh sent shivers coursing through Trisha’s body, making her tighten her legs and arms even more. “Here, Brett? What about your neighbors?”

“It’s one in the morning. If someone’s watching, fuck them,” he groaned just before he plunged inside.

Trisha screamed, the sound bouncing through the night air as she threw her head back. He pounded into her, his thick penis gliding easily in and out and stretching her almost to pain. Each time he thrust into her, slamming her back against the door, a cry of pure joy escaped her mouth.

She dug her nails into his shoulders trying to gain some semblance of control over the heat, the pleasure…her mind. The sheer ferocity of the pleasure blew through her, making her lose her grip on her sanity. The faster he thrust, the more she wanted. “Yes, Brett, yes!” She couldn’t take it anymore and pressed her mouth into his shoulder to muffle her screams right before she exploded around him.

Brett’s strokes were bruising as he rushed toward his own orgasm, pounding her repeatedly against the door. Trisha loved the animalistic side of him and reveled in a new wave of arousal. She pulled her bodice down to feed him a nipple. “Bite it, Brett.” The pinprick of pain went straight to her clit, and she closed her eyes at the renewed pleasure.

“Fuck me, baby,” she begged when he began to yell out his release and push more forcefully into her. “Fuck me!” She reached between them to finger her clit and squeeze his dick, her hand slippery with their combined cum as it slid from her to drip onto his thighs.

Hours later in his bed, Trisha moaned in her sleep, the tongue working at her clit bringing her forcefully out of her dreams. She lifted up to see Brett’s head buried between her thighs. Her hands went to the back of his head and she pushed at it, simultaneously grinding her pussy into his face.

Brett bit lightly at her clitoris and lapped up the salty juices that gushed from her body. Needing more, he put his hands beneath her ass, lifted her to his face, and fed. She shrieked, her shaking thighs tightening around his head. He lay on top of her and drove his cock into her streaming labia just as the first wave of her orgasm rocketed through her.

“Behave, Brett,” Trisha whispered. She stood in front of him watching the Double Ten Parade. He’d just slipped a hand under her short skirt to caress her butt. “People will see.” Even so, she wantonly ground her behind against the erection in his jeans.

“No one’s paying attention,” he teased in her ear, chuckling when the thunderous applause for the lion dancers made her jump guiltily. “But you said you wanted to talk, so let’s find some privacy.”

They walked away from the crowd. “I’ve called Aunt Pearl,” Trisha told him.

“Really?” Brett said in surprise. “And why would you do that?”