Doing Bris
R. W. Shannon
It was a typical Tuesday afternoon. I had the place to myself, so, I thought, why the hell not? The cool air flowed in through my open windows, but I was careful to close the blinds. I wiggled my hips to the smooth sounds of the radio as I stepped out of my teal shorts. My gray tank top was already on the floor. I walked around the living room of my Georgetown condo, squeezing the full globes of my tits as my pussy moistened. My boyfriend, Jason, had moved in over the weekend and his boxes were everywhere. I maneuvered around them to gaze at my nude body in the hallway mirror.
My dark chocolate skin was covered with a fine layer of sweat from my hour-long jog around the park. I fingered my dark brown nipples until they hardened. My breath hitched as I watched myself run my hands down my torso to curve around the shaved mound between my legs. My brown eyes sparkled with mischief. Turning, I looked at my full ass in the mirror. I smacked the taut muscle before bending over. I realized, too late, that I couldn’t see my dark berry pussy from this angle and straightened up. Turning, I pointed at myself in the mirror.
“You’re so beautiful, Bris.”
I kissed my reflection in the mirror, winked, and then danced my way back into the living room and sat on the couch. Spreading my legs, I teased the soft nub of my clit. The muscle stiffened beneath my index finger. Moaning, I leaned back against the cushions and dipped my fingers down to explore my wet cave. I thrust my finger inside, then stroked my supple wall before pulling it out and doing it again. A tingling sensation engulfed my pussy but I wasn’t ready to cum yet.
Normally, just doing this much would’ve sent me into a fit of giggles before I passed out from embarrassment. When I touched myself, I normally did it in bed, under the cover of darkness. This was all new to me. On my right was the thing that started this whole “me time”; my black cosmetic bag. I had stumbled upon it while I was making room for Jason’s things. It was my emergency kit. I hadn’t used it in the six months that Jason and I had been together. I hadn’t needed to. I decided to take them for one final spin before I got rid of them.
I pulled Pink Panther from the case. Panther was a slender, pink vibrator. The shaft was only five inches long. The tip curved up to perfectly caress my G-spot. I licked my lips as I twisted the base to activate the vibrate function. I held the smooth tip against my clit and squirmed as it massaged my bud, once again making me want to cum.
“Mercy . . .” I sighed.
Spreading my thighs farther apart, I thrust Panther into my pussy. My scent filled the room as the tip caressed my G-spot. My body quivered, begging me to allow it to release. Not yet, Bris, I told myself. The shaft was slick with my essence but I wanted to wait and see how many orgasms I could coax out of my pussy before I let Panther, and his cousin Black Stallion, go. I took Panther out and held the wet tip to my clit. The need to cum simmered. I cupped my breast and flicked my tongue over my nipple. Closing my eyes, I allowed my head to fall back against the cushions. I shifted to hang my leg over the arm of the sofa, widening my legs.
“Oh . . . God . . . Jason,” I panted to my lover, who was still at work. “I want to cum so bad.”
“So, do it.”
I froze. Opening one eye at a time, I turned in the direction of the voice. Jason stood in the doorway, balancing my favorite flower, lilies, in one hand, Chinese takeout and his briefcase in the other. See, this was why I loved him. He was always thoughtful. Not to mention gorgeous. I got so caught up in gazing at his blue eyes, his thick black hair, and porcelain skin that I almost forgot that I was butt naked on the sofa, legs spread, with a vibrator pressed to my clit.
“Hey . . . you. You’re home early.”
Removing Panther, I let my leg drop to the floor. I blushed as he stepped closer to me to plant a kiss on my forehead. Silently, he doubled back to close the door. He moved around the boxes to set the food and flowers on the kitchen counter. I watched him. The fabric of his black suit molded around his muscular physique. I licked my lips as I again became aroused.
We met on the Metro, the blue line, as he was going home from his job as a tax accountant and I was leaving my job as a curator at the Smithsonian. We’d been eyeing each other, trading pleasantries for a year before he finally asked me out. We’d been together ever since.
“Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you.”
“Surprise,” I mumbled.
I picked up the leopard print pillow and held it in front of me. When he returned, he took the pillow from me and threw it across the room. After removing his jacket, he sat in the armchair, positioning it so that he could see me. All of me. I gulped. I’d never done anything like this in front of him. Our sex life was, how could I say this, ka-bam! He was everything that I’d ever wanted in a partner, and more. He’d asked, but I’d been shy about telling him about my fantasies—what I needed, more or less. Maybe I could finally let go of this last hurdle and let him in.
“You don’t have to stop.”
“I know, but . . .”
“Bris. I’m serious. Keep going.”
“Okay.”
I didn’t know how I expected him to react when he walked in on me masturbating, but this wasn’t it. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. My pussy clenched. She was ready to go again. Reaching between my legs, I stroked her. She was still stiff. Each caress sent a tremor down my spine. I squirmed, trying so hard not to cum. Yet.
“Babe, I can’t see.”