Blackbirds Feasting

Here is a sample chapter from my latest novel, "Glass Goddesses, Concrete Walls." A reader emailed  me late last night and said that she really enjoyed this scene and that it gave her a different perspective on a few things so I decided to post it. Feel free to leave comments. 

Crows have been known to congregate and circle high above things that were dying. If you look up and see them, it's never a good sign if you're not supposed to be dead.

Blackbirds Feasting

I

 remember how her sandy-brown hair tickled my bare skin. In the moment I’m thinking back to, it was a wild mess. She always laid her head on my chest right after we had sex because she said that she liked to listen to how my heart pounded when we were done. With her ear pressed against me, she could hear the way my voice sounded different from the inside when I spoke. She said it made her horny but then again, everything made her horny.

"Why don’t you believe me when I say that I love you?" Chelsea asked before she planted a soft kiss on my chest, close to my armpit. She sighed and breathed deeply. She used to tell me how much she liked the way I smelled. I had nicknamed her the T-shirt burglar because every time she came over, I was sure to be missing one. She would take them home and wear the ones I'd worn whenever she missed me because they had my scent on them.

"Because, if you loved me like you say you do, then your sexy friend in the shower wouldn't be here and all three of us wouldn't have done what we just did," I answered dryly. I tried not to sound too cold but I also wasn't in the mood for Chelsea's clinginess. In public she put on a good show and her ego would never allow her to seem clingy or obsessed with me. In front of everyone else, she radiated supreme confidence and gave off the vibe that I was the lucky one to be with her which I happened to always find humorous. When we were alone I knew who she really was. She was the woman who haunted my every footstep.

"Oh please. That was nothing. You think I'm so blind that I don't know that you're with other women besides me? I don't like it but I know I'm not the only one," she answered and slapped me playfully on my bare chest.

"Well, I'm sure you know. It's not like I make it any big secret. Still, you've never actually watched me have sex with any of them. Like the old, wise, people say, what eyes don't see, hearts don't grieve," I told her. I realized how callous that must have sounded but it was better that way. I've always been a horrible liar anyway. She sat up next to me and frowned.

"Uhm, in case you hadn't notice, I just watched you screw another woman right in front of me. Both of you gave me a few orgasms so I know I didn't dream it," she reminded me. I looked over at the thick, white steam that tumbled out of the half-open bathroom door where her pretty friend was still in the shower.

"That's my point. If you loved me you would've never brought another woman into the bedroom with us."

"You jealous of her? Wondering if I like women more?" she giggled.

"You should laugh because that's a joke. I know how much you love dick,” I said and grabbed mine as a reminder. “That hadn't even crossed my mind. That’s not it at all."

"So what is it then?" she asked softly, close enough to my ear that I felt the tickle of her words as they left her lips. Before I could answer, she ran her wet tongue across the head of the dragon tattoo on my shoulder. Slowly, she licked the scales and followed the intricately inked design of the mythological beast that wrapped around my entire arm with her tongue. She tasted every part of its body until she kissed the tail which ended at my wrist.

"This feels like you started to think I was losing interest so you decided to spice things up." Even at that moment, as her mouth and nimble fingers touched me all over, I could tell that Chelsea was trying to subdue me with her sensuality. Most women sent sexy pictures or wore lingerie when they felt me drifting away from their beds. She had taken things to whole new level when she set up the circumstances for our threesome to take place. She always did whatever she could to outdo the other women I was involved with. She would always ask for graphic details of my other encounters and in some perverse way, I think it made her wet.

"You didn't like it?" she asked as she slid her hand under the sheet, groping me with a mischievous smile when she felt that I was still hard and sticky from sex.

"Of course I liked it but that's not the point."

"Your problem is you talk and think too much. What were we talking about again?" she asked sarcastically as she stuck her head under the sheets and kissed my thigh. I still remember how sweet her thin lips felt. They were the total opposite of the thick, juicy ones between her legs.

"You're just fascinated by the idea of me loving you back as much as you think you love me." As soon as I said that, all of the touching, kissing, licking and caressing stopped. She was probably right when she said I talked and thought too much. It wasn’t unusual for me to play the role of mood killer. I've never been very good at going with the flow and letting things be when I had a lot on my mind or an issue to address. I guess that part of me didn't come with an on/off switch.

"You know, you are really ungrateful. Most men would have been in a state of satisfied bliss after doing what all three of us just did," she said. She was probably right. This wasn't the first opportunity I had to have a threesome but the other one hadn't worked out at all. In fact, it had turned out to be a total disaster. Everything had seemed to be in place for it to happen but, the fact that both women claimed that they weren't into women rained on that parade. To make things worse, the woman I was with who was allegedly down for the group sex to take place was so jealous that she gave off a horrible vibe when her friend tried to touch me. Instead of participating, her friend became a spectator while I had sex with her so it hadn't been a totally fruitless entanglement but, it certainly wasn't what I had planned.

"Eh, I guess so," was my response and Chelsea definitely didn't like it. I shouldn't have answered like that but as usual, I was irked by the unmistakable air of arrogance in the tone she had started to use with me. Things like that always got under my skin.

"Well, if that's your attitude, why did you bother doing it?"

"I guess I did it just to do it. It'll probably lead to more trouble than it was worth anyway."

"And how do you figure that?" she asked, sitting up and folding her arms across her bare breasts. I could tell she was upset by the way the muscles in her arms tensed.

"When you left the room to get us drinks, I couldn't find my phone. Your friend told me to give her my number so she could dial it for me. After it rang and I found it, I watched her store my number in her phone." Of course I didn't tell Chelsea that I only pretended to lose my phone on purpose. I had suspected that her friend was shady and she turned out to be. I always had a gift for sensing that type.

"You don't know that. Maybe she was checking her text messages…or her emails."

"Maybe, but I doubt it."

"Ugh, you're so arrogant. Who says she wants you like that?"

"Arrogance and confidence are cousins but don't ever mistake one for the other. Trust me, I can tell she likes me."

"Listen, it was just sex."

"It always is until somebody's heart gets caught up in it, just a game until somebody catches feelings and then somebody's feelings gets hurt," I told her deliberately. I could tell she caught my meaning by the way she glared at me.

"It's no big deal. Selena knows the rules. This was a one-time thing that I asked her to do for me as a favor," she insisted which offended me. It sounded too much like she believed she had tossed a dog, (the dog being me), a bone.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, I am. And wipe that smug look off your face too," she said as she playfully palmed my jaw with her hand. I've always hated people touching my face. I don't know why exactly but I've always found it annoying.

"I know something that you don't know," I said. I knew that it was probably better to just keep my mouth shut but honesty has sometimes turned out to be my bane.

"And what's that?"

"When we were all enjoying each other's company and I was giving it to you from behind, while your face was buried between her legs, I saw her take off one of her earrings and deliberately drop it under the bed. She was biting her bottom lip and looking right at me when she did it. Check under the bed right now if you don't believe me," I told her smugly. My ego weighed a ton at that moment and why shouldn't it? I just had sex with two gorgeous women with amazing bodies. Chelsea was pale as milk but she was voluptuous and curvy. Her friend…no, our friend Selena was the color of light chocolate and just as sweet. Even as they took turns with me and I took turns with them, it had been impossible not to feel like a king. Only rich men and celebrities found themselves in situations like that, especially with women as beautiful as they both were. I was just an independent author, still very far from famous, trying to make a name for myself, living in that moment like a rock star. Chelsea frowned as she reached under the bed and lost most of the color in her face when she found Selena's hoop earring, right where I said it would be.

"She probably took it off so it wouldn't get tangled in the sheets or snagged in her hair," she answered, sounding slightly deflated and a little less confident.

"Ok, but why wouldn't she take out both earrings? Why take out one and leave the other?"

"I don't know."

"I'll tell you why. At some point tomorrow, she's going to call me to ask if she might have left it here. She'll pretend that that's all she wanted but if I entertain her with a little more conversation than I should, she won't stop me. Eventually, she'll want to meet up with me somewhere to get her earring back. One thing will lead to the next and I'll end up fucking your friend…again," I told her.

"She wouldn't!"

"She WOULD…and she plans to."

"She isn't even into men."

"Probably not but she's definitely into me. It's probably because you went running your mouth about how much you love me. She wants me because you want me. Some women are spiteful like that," I explained. Chelsea kept quiet for a few moments, taking in everything I just told her. She looked hurt, confused, and pink as her cheeks became flushed.

"Would you have sex with her behind my back if she asked you to?"

"Probably. I mean, I just did right in front of you so why not behind your back?"

"And what would happen if I found out about it?"

"Oh, your friend would apologize. She'd say that it was a mistake and tearfully tell you how sorry she was, over and over again. Of course, all of that would be a lie. Believe me when I tell you, these types of allegedly, accidental, entanglements are NEVER ever mistakes."

"You're evil. I don't even know why I love you."

"Like I told you before sweetness, you don't. You only think you do. If you did, it would have broken your little heart to watch me have sex with another woman," I told her, playfully poking her in the chest, right above her heart before I used the same finger to caress her stiff nipple.

"Stop it. I’m sick of you and all of your damn theories. You swear you know everything. You can't tell me how I'm supposed to love you."

"I'm not telling you how to love me. I'm telling you that you don't love me at all. Not really. You just like me a lot. And that's fine. I'm fine with that. I accept it and I can live with it," I told her and leaned closer to kiss her on the forehead. She was so much prettier to me when she was sad. I've always found tragic grace and beauty in the deeply melancholy moods of women. It made me wonder if I sometimes made them sad on purpose. She turned away from me so I planted a second kiss on her cheek.

"But I do though. I know I do. I've never met a man like you before."

"That may be true but it still doesn't mean you're in love with me. It'll pass and one day you'll wake up feeling like you were dreaming all along," I told her, deliberately placing a third kiss on the nape of her neck.

"I like dreaming," she answered as she began to gently fondle her own breasts.

"Of course you do…and you want me to dream with you right?" I asked, moving her hand away and replacing it with my mouth. My tongue circled her nipple as it stiffened and she loved it.

"Why not? What's wrong with dreaming?"

"Nothing," I answered as I started to kiss her stomach. It wasn't completely flat but I loved her little tummy. She would try to hide it sometimes and called it her pouch. I didn't like women with washboard abs anyway because to me, it made them look too masculine. I had grown weary of the entire discussion and I sought to put an end to it quickly. The only thing I wanted to do was put my hands all over her soft, supple, willing, body.

"So why can't we just dream together?" she asked, holding my head as I gently bit her thigh.

"Because you'd wake up before me," I answered, staring up at her. Chelsea held my face in her hands and looked directly into my eyes. There was something different about the way she touched my face that time that I didn't mind.

"And what does that mean?"

"I know what you want from me. It's the same thing every woman I know wants. You want me to be in love with you because you want to be loved," I said. This time she leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips before she spoke.

"And what's wrong with that?"

"You want me to give you something that I can't."

"And why can't you?"

"Because the truth is that you only tell yourself that you love me because I won't give you what you want. If I ever did, I'd be finished. The challenge for you would be gone but I'd be hopelessly trapped in the dream long after you woke up," I answered calmly without even a hint of the passion I'd just used while kissing and touching her. It felt as if the last candle in a dark room had just been blown out.

"What happened to you? Why are you like this? Do you even believe in love?"

"I actually do. I believe in it more than most and my definition of it is much deeper than what most can comprehend. That's why I know when it's not real."

"According to your definition of course?"

"Yes, according to my definition."

She moved her hands from my face and looked away again. She pulled her wild, sandy brown hair together and twisted it into a ponytail. When I tried to touch her hand she dragged it away from me and pulled the bed sheets up to her neck.

"Don't touch me."

"What’s the matter now? You know that nothing I just said is a lie."

"I'm sure you've loved other women. You've even told me that yourself so why not me?"

"It's not you."

"Are you serious right now? How could it not be me?"

"I've lived the same dream that you want me to live with you right now. It wasn't a good look when it ended. I swore I'd never get into anything like that again. There's nothing wrong with you if that's what you're thinking. It's my choice to be this way."

"So you're never going to care about me? Never going to love me? Is that what you choose? Is that what you’re telling me?"

"I care about you…right now...in this moment."

"No you don't."

"Of course I do. If I didn't, you wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here. I don't talk about things like this with women I don't care about. As soon as you started asking questions I would have ended the conversation, or changed the subject, or maybe even asked you to leave."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Don't pout. You're prettier when you laugh, or smile, or moan."

"Whatever. There's absolutely nothing to smile about right now. What am I to you…really?"

"You're one of my pretty blackbirds."

"A blackbird?” she laughed. “I'm as pale as milk. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It has nothing to do with your complexion silly. It has everything to do with the way you are with me," I started to explain. She let me touch her as she waited for the rest of my answer. She opened her legs just enough to let my fingers explore the wet space between her creamy thighs. Insatiable curiosity had always been her weakness. It would be her undoing one day as well as mine if I let it. Women like Chelsea never felt comfortable taking root in one place. They craved adventure, only respected challenges and hungered for new experiences. I would only hurt myself trying to hold onto her so I didn't try to, no matter how much she seemed to want me to do just that.

"Tell me why I'm one of your blackbirds," she whispered.

"You sense how passionate I can be. You want what I gave those other women so you circle above my life…waiting. What you don't know is that loving them the way I did nearly killed me. Just like a blackbird, you circle…and you wait….and you wait some more for me to give in and fall down, completely in love and unable to move. If I did, you'd perch on my body and feast on everything I had to give but even after your belly was full, I doubt it would be enough. After my heart, my soul and my bones were picked clean, you would just fly away but I'd still be dead."

"That is a very twisted and fucked up way to look at things. In that case, I don't want to be one of your blackbirds," she said, closing her legs and squeezing my hand, just a little.

"I think you do," I answered, pulling the sheet away to expose her naked body. She started to open her mouth, probably to antagonize me with more questions but when I parted her other lips with my fingers, she let out a heavy sigh instead. I’ve always been pretty good at changing the subject, one way or another.

"Well, if I'm one of your blackbirds, what part of you do I want to eat now?" she asked, grabbing me roughly between my legs as she licked her lips.

"All of my blackbirds want the same thing. You either want to claw away at my chest to eat away at whatever heart I have left or…you want to pluck out my eyes so that I can love you blindly without seeing you for who you really are," I answered. She smiled before she put her head between my legs.

"And what kind of blackbird am I now?" she mumbled while I was in her mouth.

"Right now, you're the kind of blackbird that I'm about to fuck like it's your last day on Earth!"

"What's going on here?" Selena asked, fresh out the shower and wrapped in one of my bath towels. Chelsea stopped sucking and sat straight up as if it had been her parents that walked in on us and not her friend that we had both just had sex with. Her body language completely changed as soon as she realized that her friend was back in the bedroom with us.

"Waiting for you," I told Selena as I spread Chelsea's thighs to expose her juicy pink lips. She fought me a little, but not much.

"I don't want to," Chelsea started to protest. People always glorify the amazing things about a threesome but they hardly ever speak of the negatives…like the jealousy that almost always plays its ugly part. One woman always wonders if you preferred the other to her and it always spoils the mood.

"Let's fuck her one more time," I whispered in Chelsea’s ear.

"Just once," she whispered back. I knew that she was doing it for me this time and somehow, that turned me on even more.

Selena saw the look in both of our hungry eyes, dropped her towel and climbed up on the bed. I put my hand on her damp, jet-black hair and guided her head between Chelsea's legs even though I was sure she knew the way.

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