Purple Panties
In the private confines of my home I can release all of my inhibitions and make love to her like she belongs to me. I can look at her outright clothed and in the nude. No more stolen glances at her wide shoulders, her well-buffed statuesque silhouette, or admiring the slight bow in her legs, which gives her the walk that makes me we
t when I see her. Tonight we’d become one and worry about the story for the press tomorrow.
Deirdra buzzed my intercom approximately forty minutes after we finished our telephone conversation. I lay my sweaty finger on the door entrance button firm and long, afraid that she’d pull the door handle and it wouldn’t open to let her in. Breathing hard and near a fainting spell, I stood in my doorway with a pair of booty shorts on and a sports bra top. When her foot touched the top step I smiled like a second day newlywed. At that moment it didn’t matter if she carried herself like a man or a woman, she belonged to me.
“Hey, beautiful,” is what my lover said to me. Her words were hauntingly calming and filled with passion. Deirdra wore a pair of knee-length blue jean shorts, a throwback jersey, some Timbs, and a beaming smile that I owned.
“Hi. Come on in.”
As she entered with a gift bag in one hand we brushed our arms together.
“You came bearing gifts, huh? Pray tell, what’s in the bag?” I held my hand out for her and led her to the couch. We sat close, so close that I could smell the mint on her breath as she spoke.
“A few things for you. A bottle of peach Chardonnay, some candles, bath salts, and a lace thong panty. This will accentuate your booty well…very well.”
We sat mesmerized in the moment. Then, at the same time, without a director’s cue, we began to kiss and undress each other. She handled me gently and moved about my body seductively.
As she pulled her top over her head, I said, “I don’t want to sound like an idiot but I need to ask you this. I always took sneak peeks at you. Will you stand up and take your clothes off so I can look at you without interruption?”
“Ah, anything for my Syreeta.”
Standing up, she dropped her jersey on the floor. She then undid her belt and let her shorts fall. She wore a pair of white boxers and bent to take them off. When she stood back up, she was naked. She was beautiful. Her skin was smooth and held no blemishes. Her six-pack was drinkable. Her breasts weren’t like mine. They were more like a young man’s who had just begun to work out. Not too big, but firm and tight, just right for gripping.
“Do I pass inspection, Syreeta?”
“Oh, yes, baby. Yes, you do.”
My eyes continued to roam her manly yet hard feminine body. Her vaginal area was a neat, hairy mound. A dick wasn’t supposed to be there, but if one were, it wouldn’t feel out of place.
I lay back on the couch topless and extended my hand for my lover to accept. She placed her hand in mine and lay on top of me comfortably. Music had been playing and eased us into a lovers’ daze. My arms and legs were wrapped tightly around her perfect frame as she began to show my bewildered mind why I wanted her. She slid down my body, removed my shorts and slid back up to my vagina. My legs were spread wide at that point and Deirdra dove in softly, making me submit to her every command.
While her tongue was on my clit, she slid her fingers inside of me.
“How does my Syreeta like this?”
Not being able to speak audible words, I said, “Uh-huh. Ah, uh-huh.”
My body trembled and released a liquid that quenched Deirdra’s thirst.
“Uhm, my Syreeta tastes good.”
Her finger remained in me as she slid back up my body and kissed me around my neck. Deirdra pulsated her fingers in and out of me deeper and faster. I spread my legs wider and pumped my pelvis into hers as if we should join. My hands moved about her body, loose and free, not having to worry about being stopped for trespassing on illegal property.
I grabbed and squeezed her breasts and continued to lose control of my senses. By the way I worked my body with hers, no one could ever tell me, Syreeta Hall, that I had never been with a woman.
My hands made their way down to Deirdra’s tight, perfect ass. I rolled my fingers in and about her crack, wondering if she would react the same as a hetero male not wanting anything to enter him.
Panting, she said, “Do with me whatever you please. I want to be with you.”
And then our lips met. Pressed hard together with tongues intertwined, twisting, turning, grinding, and grooving. I was in my comfort zone with my man, my woman, my boy, my girl. Simply put, my world. We were making love. I’d never been touched this way before. We kissed, licked, nibbled and sucked each other into a passion so strong, a passion that had to be told. Whether it would be accepted didn’t matter to either of us. What the coming days would bring would be someone else’s worry. All that mattered in that moment was that the finest man and I crossed the first obstacle of our journey.
Wanda D. Hudson is the author of Wait for Love: A Black Girl’s Story, and is the fabulous comedian known as Miss WandaLuv. Please visit this sexy dynamic writer on the web at http://www.wandadhudson.com.
Hailey’s Orgasmic Splendor
Michelle Robinson
“K eep on telling yourself that bullshit, Hailey. You and I both know that you’ve been in love before. You got everybody walkin’ around believin’ that you you’ve got this heart of steel, but I was there. I saw that armor penetrated. All I can say is if I knew where the hell to find Sam Hertz, I would; just to be able to watch that steel veneer of yours melt like fuckin’ ice,” said Hailey’s best friend Sierra.