Friday, May 30, 2014

Blood & Vengeance (Chapters 1-5)

Over the past few months, a lot of folks have been asking questions, extremely curious about what a collaboration between Keith Gaston and myself would look like. I'm really excited to see that so many readers are eager to dig into the pages of "Blood & Vengeance." I'm in a great mood today so I've decided to tease you with the first five chapters. Enjoy!



1
SWEET SASSY´S SUITE


The tiny bedroom reeked of marijuana mixed with the faint odor of the perfumes she sprayed and the incense she burned to try to mask the scent. She smoked weed way more than she ate which worked out perfectly in her profession. It was almost a job requirement that she protect her slender waistline at all times but she also needed to medicate herself to keep her mind right, just to make it through her shifts with her sanity intact. Sassy needed the stranger’s faces and male parts that she was forced to get familiar with to become a blur. That way, she could wash away the pain and stains of their touch when she showered. Otherwise, she feared that they would leave the type of scars that only she could feel and see. At the moment, she remained fairly sober because she didn’t mind the company of the guest that currently laid his head on her bed. Will Samson was special. Everyone on the street outside must have heard her moaning, despite the fact that he wasn’t even the best lover that she had been with. All the same, everything that she felt inside her body while she was with him was all real. She had seen all shapes, ages, races and sizes of men but she sexually connected with him differently than she had with anyone else. That was probably because, if her suspicions were correct, she had been his first. It turned her on and excited her to know that she had basically trained him how to please her. There was also something deeper about him, something that she couldn’t explain with words but whatever it was, she had never felt it in any other man.
     The evening air was stagnant and not much breeze blew through the open window. The noisy ceiling fan really didn’t do much about the sweltering heat as it spun weakly overhead and squeaked like a distressed mouse caught on a sticky, glue trap. Her skin shined and glistened with fresh perspiration but she didn’t mind the way it made her skin glow. She was sure that her favorite lover liked it too.
     Will’s nine-millimeter handgun sat in its holster, slung over the metal folding chair in the corner. In the dark, she couldn’t see his eyes clearly but she could sense him straining in the poor light to look at it. He was always wound up and paranoid, no matter how intense or satisfying the sex was.  Whenever that gun wasn’t firmly in his hand or safely secured near his left armpit, a few inches from his heart, he would stare it at almost as if he expected it to grow wings and fly away.
     “Who do you love, me or her?” Sassy asked, referring to the gun he kept staring at.
     “Her,” Will answered dryly.
     “All this ass, these tits and this pretty face but you love it and not me?”
     “She’ll save my life...you’ll get me killed. One day, I’ll probably have to use her to save me from you,” he answered.
     “I would never hurt you. Have you ever considered that maybe I love you?” she asked, realizing how ridiculous it was that she felt like the mistress, second place to a black, cold, metal gun.
     “I doubt that.”
     “Why?”
     “You don’t love men. You don’t love me. You don’t even love yourself. You only love money...because you believe it can save you from everything you hate.”
     “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
     “Not cruel...honest,” he answered coldly.
     “Suppose I told you that I slept with three other men today?”
     “Then that’s what you did. You don’t belong to anyone, especially not me.”
     He climbed out of bed and walked over to the folding chair to get dressed in the dark. He didn’t like when she started to get emotional and sentimental with him. Those moments seriously threatened to make him forget what she was and he knew that that was dangerous, for his life and his heart. Sassy leaned over and turned the black switch on the lamp on the nightstand. The room was instantly filled with a tacky, rouge glow because of the thin scarf she had thrown over the shade to soften the light.
     “Why’d you turn the lights on?” he asked.
     “I like looking at you,” she answered, lustfully studying his scars and tattoos.
     Will looked back over his shoulder as she lay naked in the bed and wished that he had left the lights on during their high-spirited sexual romp. She really was something to behold. If her skin wasn’t marred with tacky, poorly drawn tattoos, she would have looked almost like a woman straight out of a painting, graceful, elegant and flawless. All the same, her imperfections made her desirable in a way that inspired the nastiest of thoughts in most men. He looked away from her before he was tempted to turn his short stay into an all-nighter. He had things to do and he had put them off for long enough. He really shouldn’t have kept her company for as long as he had but he believed that if he might not survive the night, he wanted to die with the recent memories of a woman’s thighs fresh on his mind. It might even have been good luck because he hadn’t been kissed by death just yet.
     “You really don’t care about me do you?” she asked, pouting with her head on her white satin pillow.            She saved her best white linens for his visits.
     “I do.”
    “You have a funny way of showing it,” she said, sounding as cliché as a line straight out of a romantic comedy.
     “How am I supposed to show it?”
     “I don’t know,” she answered then paused. “You never say sweet things or do anything nice for me.”
     Fully dressed with his gun securely strapped in place, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. He looked into her sad eyes and carefully weighed what he would say next.
     “You work in a house of lies. Men come here and spend money to feel important and the women pretend to enjoy dancing for their howling amusement, to boost these petty, unimportant men’s egos so they can stomach going home to face their small, miserable lives with their wives. Men come here to fool themselves into believing that they can afford the part of you that their hands can never touch. You will never give that to any of them. That game plays out over and over again, every night, in all of these little back rooms. This...what we’re doing...is the only real truth.”
     “You’re too complicated.”
     “I’m not. The truth is always simple, basic and easy. Fantasies and lies get complicated because it’s hard to keep them believable.”
     He leaned close to her face in a rare tender moment and pressed his lips to her forehead. Sassy smiled and got butterflies in her tummy like a school girl anticipating her first kiss. That delicate moment didn’t last long and she felt foolish for thinking it would.
      “Doesn’t that mean it’s time for you to go?” she asked as his phone began to ring in his pocket.
     “In a few more minutes. I want to spend a little more time with you,” he answered and for the next ten minutes, he ran his fingers along the smooth curves of her face and played in her hair as if he was looking at her for the last time. Then, almost as if he had been coldly calculating the time that had passed with clocklike precision, he abruptly got up from her bed.
     “Would you care if I got hurt or killed?” she asked.
    “I would shed tears at your funeral,” he answered and Sassy couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic.
     Will counted out a thousand dollars and tossed it on the pillow where his head had rested for the two hours he had spent with her. She reached across lazily to pick up the knot of money but didn’t bother to count it.
     “You left way too much,” she said as he walked to the door, certain that, as usual, he overpaid for his stay in her land of milk and honey.
     “I didn’t. I left exactly what I owe you. The extra is for the information you got for me,” he answered and walked out of her room.

2
Bible Thumper


Becoming aware of the approaching man, the posture of the officer posted outside the interview room hardened. “Who are you,” he barked, holding up a restraining hand that left no doubt he wouldn’t allow any unauthorized personnel inside.
“Special Agent Royce,” the man answered, three-fingering his cred pack from his shirt pocket, flashing his badge and ID card.
The officer scrutinized the credentials. “DOJID? Never heard of it.”
Mechanically, Royce answered, “Department of Justice Infringement Division.” The officer’s observation hadn’t surprised him at all. He’d been getting that same reaction a lot lately. The agency was only three weeks old and he its only field agent. “It’s fairly new. Just more letters to include in the federal law enforcement alphabet soup.”
“I’m not sure I’m supposed to let you inside. Maybe I should check with one of the detectives involved with the case first,” the officer said scratching his head.
Royce read the name tag above the officer’s breast pocket and then produced some paperwork from another pocket. “Look, Northouse. This paperwork authorizes me to do whatever I like. I know this is a local case and as far as I’m concerned, it can stay that way. The suspect in the interview room may have information on a related investigation I’m working on. All I need is a few minutes with him, after that, I don’t care what happens to him.”
Northouse took the documentation, his eyes moving left and then right as he scanned every word. After several drawn out minutes, Royce wondered if he should have let the man contact the detectives. Then the officer handed back the paperwork.
“I can’t let you go in with your weapon, Fed or not,” Northouse said in a gruff voice. He pointed to a table to the right with a metal lockbox. “Place your pistol inside there.”
Royce upholstered his Glock and placed it into the containing. He noticed a thick, worn, bible beside the lockbox. “Yours?”
The officer shook his head.
“Mind if I take the good book inside with me?” Royce asked.
“Whatever,” Northouse replied, opening the door to the interview room.
Royce entered the room, the bible gripped in his fingers. Seated firmly in a chair behind a nondescript gray metal table the suspect, Reggie Dobski, eyed him with obvious resentment.
“Who the hell are you?” Dobski barked. His gaze shot down to the bible in the other man’s hand. “You some kind of preacher man, here to save my soul?” A harsh laugh followed his question.
Royce waited until the door closed behind him before he spoke. “Who I am doesn’t matter.” Glancing around the room, he sought and found the surveillance equipment. “But I am interesting in you baring your soul to me.”
Dobski craned his head around following Royce’s moving in the small room. “What the hell are you babbling about, man? And what are you doing?”
Reaching up to the camera perched in a corner; the agent disarmed the unit by pulling out the audio and video cables. When he finished, he circled around the table to stand across from the suspect. He slapped the bible down hard on the flat metal surface, his palm laid atop of it.
The man stared up at him in stunned silence, not knowing what to make of him.
“I have little time and require quite a bit of information from you Reggie. We both know you’re not going to simply answer my questions because I have a winning smile. So, I’m going to appeal to in an unexpected way…” He lifted the bible. “I’m going to do this with the word of God.”
Dobski laughed. “You’re waiting your time, Mr. No Name. There’s nothing in that book going to get me to talk.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kiss my ass.”
Royce blew out an exhausted breath feigning disappointment. Casually lifting up the book, he rounded the table until he stood alongside Dobski. “You’re not a good man, Reggie. You’ve hurt a lot of people, said and done bad things. You’ve pretty much have broken every commandment.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“One,” Royce said, “Do not worship any other gods.” His arm came up smacking Dobski hard underneath the jaw with the bible, forcing him out of the chair like he popped a cork off a champagne bottle and onto the floor.
“You son of a bitch,” Dobski screamed, spitting blood. A tooth wiggled inside his mouth. “What’s the matter with you? You can’t hit me!”
Royce hit him again, striking him in the temple. “Do not make any idols.”
Dobski’s pain-laden shouts filled the room, becoming Royce’s universe. He got up to the seventh commandment when the suspect begged him to stop, promising to tell him anything the federal agent wanted to know.
Obtaining his information in record time, Royce sauntered to the exit. Dobski’s wails followed him as the door opened. Northouse stood in the hallway, his sidearm drawn.
“What the devil is going on in there?” the officer shouted.
“I’m done with him. He’s all yours,” Royce said nonchalantly. He tossed the bloodied bible on the table next to the lockbox. “Oh, and he’ll need some medical attention.”
Northouse scrambled inside the interview room as the federal agent collected his pistol. Royce hadn’t felt guilty about what he had done even though his assault on the suspect would most likely lead to a plea bargain deal in the Dobski’s favor. But the answered he’d drawn out of the man outweigh any of the petty crimes he committed.
Before leaving the police station, he’d make sure any record of his visit vanishes. His role in the beating of the suspect would eventually become nothing more than rumor and hearsay. Among the officers and criminals alike at the station, he’d carry an air of mystery about him and that was the way Royce liked it.
  
3
ON THE CLOCK


     “Why this one all the time?” Sig asked Will as he got in the passenger seat of the car.
     “I guess I like her more than the rest Sigmund,” Will answered as he put a cigarette in his mouth.
     “Don’t call me that. I hate that. But seriously, why her?”
     “She’s brave,” Will answered, fumbling in his pockets to find his lighter.
     “Oh please. Everybody’s brave until the shit gets thick and hits the fan. Then, all bets are off and anything goes,” said Sig, using his own lighter to spark Will’s cigarette.
     “She’s not afraid though…not of me…of her life…of anything. She just wants a little bit of good to balance out the bad before she’s outta here.”
     “Do you really understand what she does for a living?” Sig asked.
     “Of course I do,” Will answered.
     “And that doesn’t bother you? Not even a little bit?”
     “Why should it? It’s not like there’s a lot of virgins to be found anyway,” Will laughed. “What’s the difference between her and a woman that screws different men for free, or to keep their cell phone bills paid, or the rent paid and the lights on?”
     “I’m just sayin’, you need some variety. I’ve never even seen you with any other woman, not even a different whore now and then,” Sig answered.
     “I told you, I like her more than the rest.”
     “Well, her lifestyle is dangerous for you and for her. Don’t get caught up. She’s not some hooker with a heart of gold. When you see a woman slow-dancing with the devil, you don’t ask to cut in,” Sig warned his cousin.
     “I get it, I get it,” he answered.
     “If you say so. Did she find out where he’ll be?”
     “Yeah, Azul and his wife are going over to Sensualis tonight.”
     “Sensualis? The sex club?”
     “Yessir. Sassy overheard him trying to offer one of the other dancers wild money to join them.”
     “This guy sleeps with whores and strippers but shares his wife with other men. What a perv,” Sig laughed.      “Oh well, another night at the office for us. Time to clock in.”
     “Let’s go,” said Will, inhaling smoke deep into his lungs.



     The call arrived much sooner than Royce had expected. He thought he’d be halfway out of the city before it came, but he was hardly out of the parking lot. He let the cell phone ring another two times before answering.
     “Royce. Talk to me.”
     “You son of—” shouted Marcus Wainwright, Director of the Infringement Division.
     “Whoa, no need for name calling,” Royce replied, as he pulled the rental into the street. “I take it this is about my questioning technique?”
     “Technique? You beat the crap out of the suspect with a bible!”
     “God works in mysterious ways.”
     “You’re not funny, Royce! You were told to get the information discretely.”
     “I didn’t have time for discrete. So I improvised with the material I had at hand. It may not have been the best plan I’ve come up with, but it did get results.”
     “You have a name?” Wainwright’s voice had gone down to a more cordial tone.
     “Yes, I got it somewhere between the sixth or seventh commandment.”
     “What?”
     “Never mind, private joke. I’m going to have to stay in town for a few days to substantiate the information I’ve extracted this morning.”
     “Even if what you’ve discovered pans out, it doesn’t justify what you’ve done to achieve it. You’re an enforcer of the law, and not above it, Royce.”
     “I told you how I operated when you hired me. Don’t get weak in the knees, when all I’ve done was to give a man a nosebleed.”
     “You did more than that, Royce. He’s being hospitalized. He’s already threatening to sue the city.”
     “I’ll take care of it,” Royce said coldly. He’d find out where the police had taken the suspect and drop by his room to have a chat with him later.
     “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
     “I’m thinking about stretching out across a beach blanket to bask in the sun, a drink with an umbrella in one hand, a Walter Mosley book in the other.”
     “I reiterate, you’re not funny, Royce.” Wainwright’s side of the phone went dead.
     “I think I’m funny,” Royce said aloud to no one.

4
CLUB SENSUALIS


“Sorry gentlemen, I can’t let you in tonight,” the hulking bouncer standing guard in front of the club told them. He bore a striking resemblance to the gargoyles that peered down on the streets from high up on the ledges of the building, with their stone faces permanently twisted in intimidating scowls.
“Why not?” Will asked, annoyed that this goon had put his hand aggressively on his chest to stop him from passing through the doors. He was wearing his favorite, white, button-up shirt.
“Neither one of you is with a female. I can’t let you in without at least one between the both of you. Tomorrow night is for the boy-on-boy action. Tonight is for the straight swingers,” the bouncer explained, surprisingly articulate. His brutish demeanor suggested that he would be more of a grunter or snarler. His caveman-esque brow certainly gave the impression that homo-sapien evolution had bypassed his ancestors and the hair that protruded from the unbuttoned chest area of his shirt gave validity to Sig’s theory, that he might even have been a shaved Sasquatch. His size fifteen shoes definitely would have left enormous footprints wherever he walked.
“Oh, no. We’re not like that. We’re here to meet some friends,” Sig interjected immediately in an attempt to clear up any confusion. He didn’t’ like what the bouncer was implying.
“Male or female friends?” the bouncer asked as he raised an eyebrow and eyed them disbelievingly.
“Female of course!” Sig answered.
“That’s too bad then. I guess you gentlemen are going to miss out on all the nasty fun then…because I’m STILL not letting you in tonight. Sorry.”
Will reached into his pocket and thought about how expensive this night was becoming. He began counting out money from his billfold in plain view of the bouncer’s avaricious eyes.
“Sorry, still can’t let you in,” said the bouncer as he continued to watch Will count out twenty dollar bills.
Will didn’t protest or try to reason further with him. He simply kept counting. When he got to two hundred dollars, the bouncer stopped him and took the cash cautiously. He looked both ways, up and down the street to make sure that no one else saw the exchange before he quickly pocketed the bribe. Will almost cracked a smile. He turned out to be considerably less expensive than Sassy, and Sig had called her a whore.
“Go around to the side door. Bang on the blue door and tell them that Chuckles sent you,” the bouncer told them in a heavy hushed voice that he must have thought was a whisper.
“Thanks,” said Sig in a hurry to move on.
He and Will turned from the front door of Sensualis to see about gaining access via the alternate entrance.
“By the way, if you boys are back here tomorrow, it’s my night off. I’ll be inside partying,” the bouncer called out to them as they were about to turn the corner. Will pretended not to hear him but Sig looked back nervously.
“Was he just flirting with us?” Sig asked, almost blushing.
“I suppose he was,” Will answered, amused by the look on his cousin’s face.
“Did he just proposition us too?” Sig asked.
“I suppose he did,” Will answered as he walked up to the blue door they had been sent to and banged on it twice.
“Chuckles?” said Sig. “He didn’t look like a Chuckles. He didn’t look like he was funny at all.”
“No, he did not,” Will answered as they waited for someone to open the door.



Stepping inside Sensualis was like walking into a porn shop except that all of the action was taking place live in front of their eyes. Despite the aroma of the incense and scented candles that were lit everywhere, the smell of sweat, sex and the mingling of strange bodies intertwined in all manners of intercourse could not be masked.  Sig and Will witnessed every kind of sex act imaginable (And also a few that would have been hard to think up) as they searched the colorful, silk-curtained rooms for Azul. By house rules, everyone inside the sex club, even the workers, were required to wear masks without exception for obvious reasons. To comfortably act out such fantasies, many of them taboo, Club Sensualis’ clients had to maintain their anonymity and the club did everything in their power to guarantee it. Because of that, finding Azul in the mix of oily, sweaty, bodies would have been impossible if Sassy hadn’t told Will about the scar that ran across the man’s round belly like a woman’s C-section scar.
“My mask stinks,” Sig complained as he kept re-adjusting it on his face, seriously contemplating taking it off and tossing it on the ground. He had been given a Chinese monkey god mask to wear with a large, round opening cut out in the mouth area.
“Don’t take it off or they’ll have us thrown out. Remember why we’re here,” Will warned him as he pulled back a semi-transparent, rose-colored curtain to see a man engaged in a threesome with two rather large women.
“I’m not kidding. This mask really smells horrible. This thing smells like jizz,” Sig continued to whine.
“Somebody must have taken one in the face for the team while they were wearing it. We have work to do though so there’s no time to worry about that. You’re just gonna have to suck it up,” Will answered, moving on to peek into another room.
“Not funny!” grumbled Sig.
“Sorry, poor choice of words,” answered Will, his laugh muffled underneath his white mask which had been fashioned in the likeness of the Roman god Jupiter.
After more of Sig’s grumbling, the men continued to pull back curtains to search rooms. Will began to doubt the accuracy of Sassy’s information and felt foolish for placing so much stock in whispers overheard in a strip club/cathouse.
“How are we going to find him in the middle of all this?” Sig asked, strangely aroused considering what they were really there for. He had never considered himself a pervert but it was almost impossible not to get wood after all he had feasted his eyes on while peeking in rooms.
“We’ll find him. Look for the most expensive, exclusive section of this flesh-fest and I bet that’s where he’ll be,” Will answered hoping that he was right.
After five more minutes, they found a room guarded by two stone gargoyles on opposite sides of a wooden red door. Will pushed it open and stepped inside quickly with Sig right behind him.
On a round bed in the middle of the room laid a woman that could only be Azul’s wife. She was completely naked except for the intricately-designed, golden masquerade mask covering the top half of her face.  She looked completely spent, spread eagle on the mattress with beads of sweat on her skin. Will didn’t miss the scar that ran down the length of Azul’s exposed pot belly. His red, silk robe was wide open as he sat there calmly in just his boxers and dress socks on a regal looking chair. If the robe wasn’t so delicately elegant, he would have resembled a lazy plumber who had just got home from a hard day’s work. His mask was fashioned after a red devil, little horns, sharp goatee and all. He stood up to greet them, not at all alarmed by the sudden appearance of these strangers who locked the door behind them after they were inside. This was not his first rodeo. He stood up to greet them, his boxer shorts so low on his hips that his grizzled pubic hairs showed.
“Welcome! Welcome friends!” Azul greeted them, clapping his hands, either out of some weird joy now that he was in the presence of fresh meat or possibly to rouse his wife who seemed to have nodded off. Even with his mask muffling the sound, his voice was more high-pitched than Will had expected coming from a man of such a gruff stature. Will and Sig did not speak but they did wave hello uncomfortably, like shy kids on the first day of class in a new school.
“I apologize for my wife’s current state. Poor thing. She’s usually more lively and fresh but I’ve just shared her vigorously with two other men before you two came in but I’m sure she still has some juice left in her. You…in the monkey mask…you look eager. Why don’t you find out if she does? Zeus, Jupiter, or whoever you’re supposed to be…come over here with me and we can watch together,” Azul slurred.
Will and Sig looked at each other and through the eyeholes in the monkey god mask, Sig’s eyes asked permission. Will shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and silently granted it. Tentatively, Will approached Azul who was enthusiastically beckoning him to come over. Azul’s wife crawled slowly, seductively, over to Sig who stood at the edge of the bed and started opening his pants. She was fiercely friendly and high out of her mind, probably on some type of ecstasy pills. Azul firmly placed his meaty hand on Will’s shoulder. He stepped out of his boxers completely and was so excited as he watched his wife giving Sig the best oral sex he had ever had in his life that he never noticed when Will slipped the silk sash from the loops in his robe. Will tried to make eye-contact with Sig to give him fair warning about what he was about to do but, behind the painted monkey-faced mask, his cousin was lost in pleasure, focused on Azul’s wife and what she was doing with her mouth.  Azul breathed heavily like a crazed bull under his mask as he took off his robe and grabbed Will by the wrist with a grip like a vice.
“Come!” Azul commanded roughly, reaching for Will’s crotch as he put one chubby knee up on the bed. He didn’t get the chance to put his other leg up.
Will wrapped the silk sash around Azul’s neck and started to choke the life out of him. Sig opened his eyes just in time to see what was happening on the other side of the mattress. He covered Azul’s wife’s ears with both hands and purposely moaned loudly so she wouldn’t hear her husband gasping for breath as he faced his imminent death by strangulation. Will wrestled Azul to the ground and planted his knee firmly in the man’s hairy back. With all of his strength, he pulled the make-shift garrote around the dying man’s throat. The heavy man struggled in vain to gain the leverage he needed to get Will off of him. He flapped around desperately on the filthy floor of the room behind the red door where countless men and women had spilled their lust. Once Azul was dead, Will nodded to Sig who then knocked Azul’s wife out cold with one punch, after she had stopped what she was doing of course. Otherwise, as a reflex, she might have clenched her teeth and castrated him.
“Help me pick this big boy up and put him on the bed next to his wife,” said Will.
“Damn, she’s sexy,” said Sig as he stared at the woman he had just sent off into slumber with a violent blow to her head. “Couldn’t you have waited until I had sex with her first?”
“If I had waited that long, I might’ve gotten molested by Mr. Touchy Feely here. Grab his legs. I’ll get his arms.”
“Do we kill her too?” Sig asked as they struggled to roll Azul’s corpse next to his unconscious wife.
“No, we don’t have to. She only knows us as Jupiter and The Monkey god. She didn’t see our faces.”



This time, Will drove the car and Sig relaxed in the passenger seat after they escaped Club Sensualis. From the corner of his eye, he saw a smug grin on Sig’s face as he struggled not to laugh about something that must have tickled him something terrible.
“What are you trying so hard not to laugh about? What’s the joke?” Will asked.
“How long do you think it’ll be before somebody goes in that room and bugger’s Azul’s dead body?” laughed Sig.
“That’s a sick thought but, in THAT place, anything is possible,” Will answered.
  
5
Sex Club


The room Royce rented was far from luxurious. Up and down the walls, cracks ran along them like exposed veins. Peeling paint hung down from the ceiling like stalactites. The room’s furniture was in short supply: A tattered couch that should have been discarded for trash rested against a far wall. A nineteen inch television, a remnant of the nineties, sat on top of a wood bureau. Bunched in a tight corner, the only amenities were a rusted microwave and dingy coffeemaker sitting above an unplugged mini-refrigerator.
He looked around the room searching for the bed and then flinched in horror when he realized the couch folded out into one. Royce considered sleeping on the floor instead, but the multicolored carpet was covered with hundreds of old cigarette burns, food stains from a time long past and smelled of hard liquor. He’d probably get drunk from the fumes alone if his head came too close to the gaudy carpeting.
Glancing out the window, he stared out into the dark parking lot at his rental vehicle. Under a flickering street lamp, the recently washed Dodge Charger stood out among the sparse number of cars. He was glad he opted for the insurance. Royce doubted the Charger would still be there in the morning. He’d paid for a bad room, in a bad neighborhood, and expected no less from the low-life criminals occupying the east side of the city.
He pushed away from the window, hoping to be proved wrong by morning. Royce liked the Charger, it was sleek, elegant, and the engine purred like a kitten. Taking his laptop and mobile hotspot out of bag, he reluctantly sat on the shabby couch. It smelled of body odor and sex. The dirty carpet was looking better and better to him. He tried not to think about it as the laptop powered on. On the dark screen, his handsome features reflected back. He needed a haircut. Royce liked the sides of his head bald and his hair low on top. He scratched at his chin playfully, letting his fingers comb against the stubble. Even his goatee looked a bit shabby.
His image disappeared as the Operating System logo took up the screen. Once the machine finished loading, he connected immediately to the secure wireless hotspot and logged onto the Infringement Division server in Virginia. Once he had access, he immediately tapped into the National Crime Information Center (NCIC) and typed in: AZUL
It was the name he’d extracted from the suspect. Royce wasn’t sure whether it was a first or last name, but felt confident he would shortly get a hit from the database search. While he waited, he thought about the other morsel of the information he’d obtained with his unorthodox interrogation--the sex shop called, Sensualis. The private club was the reason he’d rented the rundown room at the motel. Royce only had to spy out the window to see the business down the street. He’d driven by Sensualis earlier spotting a large bouncer, the size of two linebackers, outside the front entrance. He knew the type, he wouldn’t scare easily. Getting inside would take more than to simply flaunt his credentials.
Azul’s data flashed across the screen. The man’s litany of illegal activities read like a resume for a cliché gangsta from a street novel. His crimes started at the ripe age of eight and had gone well into his thirties. A lot his time had been spent behind bars until five years ago. Azul had crossed over from robbing party stores and selling crack on the streets to a more luxurious business, trafficking. It hadn’t matter to him what he moved over the border, drugs, humans and weapons. It a short time, Azul made a rep for himself and managed to stay under the radar of law enforcement. That was until now.
Royce read over the rest of the file trying to get a feel for the man. What came up without fail throughout the years was Azul’s sexual appetite. More than half his crimes had been related to sex. And he wasn’t exactly particular with whom or what he’d done the dirty deed with. Azul, opening the club Sensualis made perfect sense for a man like him.
He logged out, closed the lid of the laptop and lay it aside him on the couch. He glanced at his wristwatch. Nearly two a.m. He spent more than an hour doing his research on the man. Launching himself up, Royce decided the direct approach would be the best way to introduce himself to Azul. He had never been the type to worry about obtaining warrants. Besides, all he wanted to do was talk to the man, not arrest him. Arrests were done by others. Royce’s job was to get information anyway he could. At least in his own mind, Wainwright, he was sure, had other ideas.



It took Royce no more than five minutes to walk to the club. He hadn’t wanted to risk anyone catching the license plate to his rental. He would pay the goon at the door to get inside rather than play the badass. He wanted to get inside as quietly as possible, get his answers, and then slip out. It was a good plan and wouldn’t have Wainwright climbing up his ass about it later.
Royce strode to the front entrance where a giant Neanderthal in an ill-fitting suit waited. He let the urge to say, “Me, Tarzan, you ape,” pass as quickly as it had come. The big man… perhaps ape… most likely Neanderthal, didn’t give off the vibe he’d appreciate anyone joking about his looks. Instead, Royce simply grinned up at him.
“No,” the Neanderthal barked.
“No, what?” Royce asked, losing his grin.
“No. You got cop written all over you. You’re not getting inside.” He added an explanation point to his assertion by poking his thick finger into Royce’s chest.
The move came without conscience thought as Royce grabbed the offending arm by the wrist. He whirled around, putting his back to the larger man, moved in close bring his back to the man’s upper torso. Leaning forward, catching his opponent completely by surprise, he lifted him up and over.
The Neanderthal hit the pavement with a heavy thud. Air blew out of him like a deflating tire.
Drawing his Glock, Royce pointed it down at the man’s face. “Look, pal, I’m trying to play nice here. I’m not here for trouble. I want to talk to your boss. What do you say, you want to be friends?” Royce kept his gun trained on him, waiting for the man caught his breath.
“He’s inside,” the Neanderthal finally said.
Holstering the Glock, Royce winked, whirled around and entered the club. Inside, he made a few inquiries and was led to where he could find his quarry. He knocked hard once on the door. When a woman’s scream came in answer, Royce drew his pistol again, and opened the door.
A panicked, naked, woman, stared back at him. Royce believed her to be the wife. She lay beside her murdered husband. A silk sash had been coiled tightly around Azul’s neck. Royce cursed under his breath, he’d lost the first solid lead he had on the investigation in weeks. He wondered briefly, if Azul’s murder had anything to do with his case?
Glancing at the distraught woman, he lowered his pistol, and asked, “Who did this?”
She shouted something crazy about Jupiter and a Monkey god. He looked out into the hallway. The activities in the other rooms had made them oblivious to what was going on inside this room. Royce closed the door behind him for privacy. He’d have to calm the woman first to get some straight answers. His intuition told him Azul’s death and his investigation was somehow connected. He needed to find out exactly who Jupiter and the Monkey god were.

Copyright © 2014 Keith Gaston & Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.




Monday, May 26, 2014

"ReemAfterDark Presents..." Colder Than January (sample)


Welcome to another steamy edition of "ReemAfterDark Presents...." Tonight I'll be sharing a piece that started out as a short story that I wrote the eventually was featured in an "Eros 369" anthology. The story was so well-received that I decided to extend it into a novella titled, "Colder than January." (Some of you may have read this chapter before but I'm sure you won't mind reading it again) 


CHAPTER 1 - galerie erotique

An art gallery was the last place he expected to spend his Friday evening. A bar, lounge or club was usually more to his taste. Whatever he knew about fine art he’d taught himself by reading books or by paying close attention to discussions on the subject. He’d also dated an art major once so that also helped. He had no serious interest in paintings or sculptures but occasionally, the knowledge made it much easier to hold conversations with potential clients. In fact, it was one of his best clients who suggested that he attend this particular event. All week he’d been in a grim mood so socializing had been the furthest thing from his mind. However, as he strolled through the bourgeois crowd, he was glad that he had changed his mind. The place was saturated with tailored suits, designer stilettos, diamonds and pearls, all swimming in a sea of wealth. Celebrities, moguls, titans of business, and infamous socialites were scattered everywhere. They held hollow conversations while they sipped expensive champagne and pretended to admire the art. Most of them were simply giddy to be surrounded by people with similar lifestyles. In many ways, he was the outsider but that didn’t bother him at all. In this jungle, they were the herd that outnumbered him but he was the lion that stalked them stealthily as he moved through the tall grass. He put his game face on as if he belonged and began to hunt his prey.
He worked the room like a professional. He’d done this a thousand times before and each time, he’d gotten better at it. He smiled, shook hands, kissed stranger’s faces, held friendly conversations but was careful to never formally introduce himself. Everyone that he interacted with simply pretended that they actually knew who he was. He seemed so relaxed and comfortable in their presence that none of them dared to ask him too much, fearful that their inquiries might offend him. They all understood how unwise it was to bruise egos unnecessarily.
Once he’d made his way around the lavish event, he decided that it was time to fall back in order to observe his surroundings on a deeper level. That night, he hunted big game and not everyone qualified as the species of clientele he was after. He was certain that as the evening stretched on, certain individuals would naturally become more loose and reckless. He watched for this as he patiently patrolled the gala. His champagne had started to get warm and as he tipped back his glass to finish it, he spotted her from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed her before.
While everyone else mingled and socialized, she sat alone on a red couch. She was the only one in the entire gallery that wasn’t talking to anyone else so he should have noticed her before. Only the champagne bottle that sat at her feet kept her company. She was also absolutely gorgeous and he never overlooked gorgeous women. She was very different from most of the paper-thin females in attendance. The black dress she wore hugged every plus-sized curve on her body. She was a big girl for sure but he thought she had a beautiful shape. Even though she was sitting down he could tell that she had hips for days and her cleavage was insane. He couldn’t help but undress her with his eyes as he imagined what it might feel like in-between her warm thighs. Slowly, with his gaze fixed on her voluptuous frame, he made his way over to her and sat down beside her like a spider. The gears in his mind began to turn as he tried to decide how he would weave his web while she pretended not to notice him.
“Good evening,” he said and extended his hand.
She ignored the gesture and remained focused on the admirers of the art. She watched their reactions with great intensity, almost like how a starving person might pay attention to food.
“Hello,” she answered coldly.
She still hadn’t turned to look at him and halfway hoped that he would just go away on his own. She grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck, put it to her mouth and tipped it back. Dirty thoughts ran across his mind as her thick, full lips wrapped around the tip. When she was finished, she used her tongue to lick off the excess alcohol and put the bottle back down on the ground.
“So, you’re the Juliet Sinclair that has blessed us with all of this art tonight. Your paintings are beautiful,” he told her, trying to charm her as well as throw her off balance.
Shocked, she finally turned to take a good look at him. Immediately, she knew that she should have just laughed and denied who she really was but there was something about him that made her curious. He had figured out her big secret and she needed to know how.
“How do you know that?” she asked nervously.
“I’m observant. It was easy enough to figure out that this is your work. I noticed how nervous you were while you watched everyone looking at the art. I could tell you had a deeper interest in their reactions than most. The red streak in your hair and the piercings were a give-away too by the way. You’re the only one in here who looks like an artist,” he explained, sounding quite pleased that he had guessed correctly.
“Wow! No one, not even the brokers that sell my work know me. None of them have ever met me in person,” she answered, not quite sure what to say next.
“Why the secrecy, if you don’t mind me asking?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“I never wanted people to kiss my ass. I always want their honest opinions. I prefer it to the brown-nosing and hollow praise that gets handed out at most of these things. I even go as far as to buy some of my own pieces just to throw everyone off so they think I’m just a supporter. The misdirection adds to the mystique of my work. It actually sells better because of it,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he told her with a wink and one of the most charming grins she had ever seen. Somehow, she could feel the sincerity in his smile. She decided that it was safe to play with him.
“Not good enough. Now that you know my big secret, you’ll have to share one of yours with me or I’ll have to kill you,” she joked.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes, really,” she answered.
“Well, in that case, I’ll tell you something that no one else here tonight knows,” he said. He looked around and pretended to make sure that no one was in earshot of them before he leaned in and whispered to her, “My real name is January.”
“Are you joking?” she asked, laughing heartily. She slapped him on the thigh but liked the way his flesh felt so she left her hand there.
“Not at all. My parents named me after my birth month. I guess they weren’t very creative,” he explained.
“I guess not,” she answered, wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard.
When she caught her breath, she noticed that he was still smiling which was good. She hadn’t intended to offend him. As she continued to giggle, she kept her grip on his leg and squeezed him. He didn’t seem to mind and she surprised herself with her boldness. Juliet looked at the empty champagne bottle at her feet and decided that she would just blame it on all the liquor she’d guzzled that night.
“Most people call me Jan for short. I know, it’s feminine but I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity that it doesn’t bother me,” he told her.
“I can see that,” she answered.
She was incredibly turned on by his presence. He had managed to step into her personal space aggressively but also balanced it off masterfully by being subtle and smooth. She caught his eyes on her thighs which were pressed together tightly as her panties got moist. She felt it and blushed as she wondered if he could tell.
“Are you an art dealer?” Juliet asked.
“Me, an art dealer? No, not at all,” he answered, almost as if the notion had been more ridiculous than his real name. “I’m really here for the networking.”
“Networking huh? So, what type of business are you involved in?” she asked. Her question was followed by an awkward, uncomfortable silence. “Now, that’s unfair. You know how I earn my money but I don’t know how you make yours,” she continued, causing him to grin again but this time, without the confidence he had displayed before. It was obvious that he had suddenly become very uncomfortable and she could see in his face that he thought very hard before he answered.
“Well, I guess I am a dealer of sorts but more along the lines that would be considered criminal,” he began to explain. Then, he leaned in close to her ear again before he whispered the last bit. “I peddle illegal, temporary happiness to people who can afford it.”
“Oh, so you’re just a common drug dealer,” she said, frowning as she realized just what his occupation really was, no matter how he chose to describe it.
He immediately seemed slightly less dashing to her.
“There’s absolutely nothing common about me,” he immediately answered.
His confidence had not wavered, not even slightly. She liked it and she felt guilty for liking it. There was also something dangerous and edgy in his tone. She could read the double-meaning hidden in his answer and her body responded by throbbing in her most feminine places.
“How so?” she asked, intrigued by what January’s answer might be.
“I haven’t made a hand-to-hand sale since I was thirteen. I’m here because one of my clients suggested it. You see, the types of people that are here, enjoying your artwork are very discreet when it comes to their habits and vices. They do their dirt in the dark at all costs. It’s a safe, lucrative, win-win situation for me,” he told her.
Juliet listened to his explanation and her curiosity subsided slightly in favor of her better judgment. The voice of reason in her head screamed that getting involved in any way with this man was a horrible idea. January read her body language and felt a chill come over her after he had been sure she was warming up to him. He quickly changed the subject.
“Where are you from originally?” he asked her.
He was already taken by her so for him, it was too late to turn back. He had to have her. He’d do whatever it took to re-kindle her interest.
“I was born and raised in Arizona. I moved to New York two years ago,” she answered.
“Interesting,” January answered.
“Why? Don’t I look like a desert girl?” she joked.
He was glad that her mood had lightened.
“It’s just that most of your paintings feature water as their main theme,” he said.
“Well, I guess coming from such a dry place, I’ve always been fascinated with anything wet,” she told him.
“Me too,” he answered, wetting his lips as he stared at her cleavage.
“You’re fresh I see,” she answered after she realized what he was looking at.
She could feel her heart beat faster because of the way he looked at her. She opened her legs, separating her thighs for the first time since he’d sat down beside her. She was a little ashamed that after finding out what he did for a living, she hadn’t been frightened away.
“Very,” he answered before showing her just how fresh he was.
He took her hand and put it on the bulge between his legs that had started to pulse and throb.
“Mmm, interesting,” she said.
Her voice trembled in eager anticipation as she felt him grow. She squeezed him and tightened her grip to let him know that she wasn’t afraid.
“Interesting that I’m flirting with you?” he asked, even though he knew that they had crossed way beyond the borders of harmless flirtation.
“No,” she lied. “Interesting that a drug dealer would have any knowledge of art at all. I’ve never met a cultured criminal before.”
“Now I’m insulted. As a matter of fact, I happen to be a bit of an artist myself,” he told her.
“Really? How so?” Juliet asked, somewhat intrigued. She was still more focused on the bulge in his slacks that seemed to grow the more they talked.
“Let me show you,” he said and took her by the hand. “Is there somewhere we can be alone?”
“Yes,” she answered as she got up off of the couch with her heart pounding so loud that she almost swore that he could hear it.
Juliet didn’t know why she felt so reckless. Again, she thought about all of the alcohol in her system but she knew that wasn’t it. She was in the mood for excitement and the thrill of sneaking off with a total stranger.
She could feel January’s eyes on her behind as she led him through the gallery. She purposely rocked her wide hips just a little more, just to make sure he saw just how much ass she really had. He wasn’t mad at all as he thought about all of the things he would do to it if she let him. His imagination told him that everyone could see his privates through his slacks, hard against his thigh as he walked. There was no room left in his boxer-briefs so his tip had just slipped past the bottom of the right leg of the cotton material. Finally, they reached the end of a lonely corridor. Juliet looked around one final time to make sure that no one saw them before she quickly pulled him inside the room. She locked the door behind them which cause a steady stream of erotic mischief to run through January’s mind.
The room appeared to be used for storage and was filled with all kinds of furniture, covered with dusty drop cloths. January pulled the covering off of the nearest antique couch and sat her down on it. Juliet bit her bottom lip as he took two steps away from her and started to unbutton his shirt. He walked back towards her to lay it down neatly on the arm of the chair. This time, he only took one step away from her as he lifted his undershirt up over his head. She was in awe as she looked at him. January wasn’t particularly cut or rippling with muscles but he was a strongly constructed man. However, that’s not what caught her attention. His upper body was covered in tattoos. There were incredibly detailed portraits of loved lost ones’ haunting faces. Letters written in calligraphy illustrated sentimental strings of words that held great meaning to him. There were also mythological beasts in conflict mixed with modern imagery. Somehow, they all flowed together beautifully without seeming cluttered or confusing.
“Wow, you’re beautiful,” she told him as he turned slowly so she could see his back as well.
He turned around to face her before he spoke again.
“Thank you. Of course I didn’t ink them on but I drew and designed each one myself. They all flow together and tell the story of my life,” he explained and for the first time that night, she could hear humility in his voice.
Juliet stood up and took a step towards him to close the gap between them. She sent a chill through his body as she gently ran her fingers against his flesh. She traced the slightly raised lines of ink that had been imbedded in his skin by the painful kisses and caress of the tattoo needle. She could feel his chest tremble as his heart pounded like a base drum. She knew that his blood was hot as it coursed quickly through his entire body. She softly kissed the lips of the faces inked on his skin.
“They’re all amazing,” she told him before she ran her wet tongue across the wings of the dragon that stretched out across his shoulder.
Then, she hastily unbuckled his pants to see exactly what kind of man he was. She wasn’t disappointed. She was even happier when she began to skillfully stroke him sensuously and felt him grow. She wanted to see it for herself. Breathless, she took her hand out of his underwear and sat back down on the couch. She raised her skirt before she did and spread her legs so that he could see how thick her dainty lips were behind her damp panties. January got even harder at the sight of her most private parts.
“Is there anything else you want to show me?” she asked, sliding her fingers into her underwear.
He could see her fingers moving behind the beige lace and wished it was his tongue instead. The scent of her perfume still lingered, even after she stepped away from him and he could only imagine what she would taste like.
“There are a few things I’d like to show you,” he answered as he watched her stimulate herself.
First he took his shoes off, then his socks and then his pants. Finally, he stepped out of his boxer-briefs and stood completely naked. To Juliet, it felt as if he cast a shadow over the entire room as he stood in front of her, erect and imposing. January followed her eyes, fixed between his legs and began to stroke himself slowly as she watched, almost hypnotized.
“So I see,” she answered, licking her lips.
There was something about the way he handled it that gave her the impression that he knew how to use it. She knew that she knew exactly what to do with it.
“No, you haven’t seen anything yet. Take off your dress,” he commanded.
There was nothing charming or polite about the way he asked her. She loved it. Never in her life had she gotten out of a dress faster. Usually, she was shy about her body but he looked at her with such savage lust that any feelings of inadequacy for being full-figured disappeared.
“What now?” she asked once her dress was off and tossed aside.
“Now the bra,” he told her.
Immediately, she lifted each cup and let her breasts fall from it before she unhooked it from the back. She covered her nipples with her hands and was turned on by how hard they were against her palms. Without saying a word, January motioned for her to move her hands away. She eagerly complied and reached for the waist of her lace panties to slide them off as well but he stopped her.
“I got that!” he said and got down on his knees in front of her.
January didn’t pull her underwear off right away, even though he knew her body longed for him to. He wanted to tease her so that she ached for him to take her. Juliet pulled on her own hair and writhed in anticipation as he kissed her soft spot through her panties. He could feel how hot and wet she was as he pressed his lips firmly against her thick kitty lips. He was pleased when she put her hand on his head and let out a tiny scream. He knew that she was trying her best to hold back. He loved it and after that, his goal was simply to drive her to madness before sexual satisfaction. Her chest heaved as she breathed and his tongue tickled as she felt it slide from her knees until it worked its way deeper into her inner thighs. She began to roll her hips as she thought she might go insane. She lifted her full breasts to her face and sucked her own nipples. January looked up as she switched from left to right, staring down at him as she did. He gripped the waist of her panties and dragged them off. It was time for the real business to begin.
Slowly, he worked his tongue between her legs until he’d licked up every bit of her wetness. He didn’t know which was more slick, his tongue or her pussy lips. He moaned as he tasted her and the vibration sent shivers through her body. He worked his mouth passionately, almost as if he was kissing her mouth. She wanted to squirm away but his grip on her thighs held her firmly in place. He sucked her clit with just the right pressure and Juliet felt that her head might split. She couldn’t believe that she wanted to cum already. It was too soon. He was beyond good and she fought against it as hard as she could. She didn’t want to completely surrender, at least not that fast. For the first time, she imagined that this was what men went through every time they found themselves deep inside something good. Just when she thought she would burst for sure, he backed off and looked up at her. His lips, nose and chin were completely covered in glistening juice from her body. Oh shit she thought as he licked his lips. January smiled as he read exactly what she’d said in her mind in her eyes. He winked at her mischievously before he lifted her legs back in the air and buried his face between her thighs again. She didn’t know that he’d only just begun.
As her clit throbbed, January slid his tongue in between her pussy lips again but this time, he didn’t stop. She jumped as he worked his tongue further down than she expected. Her bent her legs so far back that she could see her own ankles and dragged her to the edge of the couch so that her juicy ass was hanging off of it.
“Hold on,” he told her and made her hold on to her legs.
She didn’t hesitate and couldn’t believe that he had her bent like a pretzel on the couch. First he stared at her thick cheeks. Nothing turned him on more than a woman with a plump ass that jiggled. He had plans for her since he’d watched her swing her hips as she walked in front of him. He kissed the bottom of one cheek and then the other. Then he paused. She couldn’t see him so she wondered what he was doing. She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. He put pressure on her legs and bent her back a little further. Then, he kissed her between the cheeks right before he pressed his tongue to her ass. Her whole body shook. The sensation was strange but she didn’t want him to stop. Her legs shook as he tickled her hole, circling the opening with his tongue. He could tell she liked it by the way she moaned and groaned over and over saying Oh yes.
“Want more?” he asked her.
“Oh God yes,” she answered.
January brought her legs down and flipped her over. Now Juliet was on her knees with her breasts pressed against the rough material of the couch. Again, he spread her cheeks and worked his tongue against her hole. She loved it and he could tell by the way she threw her ass back against his face. Her kitty still throbbed and as he touched it she soaked his hand. He backed off, just to admire her bent over. She swayed her ass from side to side as she looked back at him. He held his dick in his hand and she could read in his eyes what he wanted to do with it. She didn’t care. She would let him do whatever he wanted tonight. Everything was his.
“You want it?” he asked.
“Yes, give me all of it,” she whispered back.
He swore he heard her almost purr as he rubbed the thick tip of his dick against her pussy lips. He had to keep one hand pressed firmly against her butt to keep her from throwing it back before he was ready to give it to her. Then, he slipped the head in.
“More?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, breathless.
Slowly, he gave her the first stroke and she swore he touched her soul. She felt every inch as he stretched her lips and filled her up until he hit the back of her kitty kat. Once he touched her back wall, he slowly pulled it almost all the way back out. January loved the way her pussy looked, wrapped around his dick as he backed up. He looked down at his shaft and saw her white cream covering it. He gripped her hips and started to bury his dick in her pussy, over and over again. He loved the way her ass bounced as he rocked her body back and forth. It tuned him on how she rolled it with his rhythm. At first the strokes were slow as they felt each other’s bodies out. When she started throwing it back harder, he knew she was ready for more. She looked back at him and smiled as he looked back at her with his business face. She loved it. January reached up, grabbed a fist full of her hair and tilted her head back. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as she prepared for what she knew was coming next.
As he pulled her hair, his strokes became harder and faster. She could feel him deeper than before. He went deeper every stroke even though there was nowhere else for him to go. It hurt but not enough for her to make him stop. She felt full as he seemed to get bigger inside as he scraped her walls. She couldn’t believe she was getting fucked like this. As soon as she thought it, she came. January felt her gush and squirt. He left it inside her throbbing as she recovered from the orgasm before he got back to work on her. When he started again, he went straight back to hard strokes. Now, he wasn’t playing with her. There would be no teasing. He was here to do one thing and that was to give her the business. He let go of her hair and put one hand on her hip. The other one he used to grip her shoulder and drag her back on his dick. She loved how strong he was. Stroke after stroke after stroke he punished her pussy. The second orgasm came even easier for her. She wondered when he would come.
Juliet looked back at him as he pounded her doggy-style. She reached back and spread her cheeks with her hands. January let spit drip from his mouth and into her butt. He used his thumb to wet it and slowly stroke the opening. He heard her moan and knew she liked it. Before she knew it, he had slipped a finger inside it. Then he slipped two in. She felt nasty for letting him do it but it felt amazing to be this freaky. The feeling was maddening as his fingers and dick worked her out at the same time. She let go of her cheeks and turned to look at him while she stuck her fingers in her mouth. She loved the feeling of having something in every hole. She came again. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted him to cum. She was going to give him something she felt that he deserved.
Juliet reached back and pulled his dick out of her. She was breathing heavy and he wondered if she needed to catch her breath. He wasn’t sure what she wanted next; at least not up until she licked her lips mischievously.
“Give it to me,” she told him.
He didn’t hesitate.
January stared at her thick lips as she licked them with her tongue. He could only imagine how they would feel. Juliet took a moment to stare at his wet dick before she got right below him and didn’t waste any time. She moaned as she tasted her own juices. Her warm mouth was enough to make his eyes roll as she took his dick deeper into her throat every time she rocked forward. She gasped for air as she backed off far enough to let it fall out of her mouth. Her saliva dripped from his tip and onto her breasts. She grabbed his thighs and tried to swallow it again. January nearly lost his mind. He closed his eyes and held the back of her head as he listened to her wet mouth work. She grabbed his shaft and pulled it out of her mouth again. This time, he looked and saw the string of spit from her mouth to his dick. She stroked it with both hands as she looked up at him.
“I’m about to cum,” he warned her.
She already knew because she could taste it. As soon as he said it, she opened her mouth wide and wrapped her lips back around his dick. She could feel it pulsate. She started to suck it again, this time soft and slow. He could feel his dick throbbing in her mouth. Every time he hit the back of her throat, he came closer to exploding. She knew it too but she didn’t back away. He knew that she wanted him to cum in her mouth. She moaned deeply as she tasted it and felt it. Finally, he let go. She stopped moving her head. She let it fill her mouth before she started to suck out whatever was left in his shaft. January nearly passed out. Finally, she took it out of her mouth. She let the thick cream drip out of her mouth and onto her breasts. She smiled at him with a naughty grin as she licked it back up.
“You like that huh?” she asked him.
He couldn’t speak. He only answered with a nod.
Juliet had no regrets but a wave of bashfulness came over her as she thought about everything she’d just done with him. Still on her knees, she suddenly found that she couldn’t look him in the eye and blushed as she turned her face away. January noticed this and smiled. He got down on the floor beside her and forced her to look at him as he held her face in his hands. She waited anxiously for him to say something to make her feel a little less uncomfortable but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her passionately until they were both breathless. When they finally stopped, he stared at her as he played in her hair. He felt silly and didn’t know how long the feeling would last but at that moment, he loved her. He didn’t know why and he couldn’t believe it. His sense of logic wrestled with his passion as he questioned whether or not it was a good idea to get caught up because he barely knew her. He hoped that the moment would pass. He also knew that the longer he stayed there with her, softly touching her skin with his fingers and kissing her face was the harder it was going to be to break the connection. He put his lips to her neck and then her collarbone. As she held his head and pressed it against her breast, January realized that he had been a fool because all the while he thought he was being smooth and charming, she had trapped him in her web without him even knowing it. It felt as if she had allowed him to believe he was the spider when he actually had been the fly all along.
At the same time, as Juliet held him, she knew that she played a dangerous game with this man who was basically a stranger. It had been a long time since she’d let loose sexually with anyone. She knew that she should have just got dressed as soon as they had finished. The longer they lingered in the room together was the more confusing things would become. This was exactly the type of situation where signals were easily crossed, emotions became unclear and hearts became broken. The sex had been great but she didn’t want to mistake her body’s sensations as true feelings for this man. All the same, she knew that life wasn’t worth living without taking risks. She sensed that he was wrestling with the same thoughts that she was. She decided to do her best to keep him in the dark about what she was really feeling for the moment. Being cautious couldn’t hurt after all of the reckless things they’d done that night.
“What now?” she whispered.

To Be Continued in "Colder than January" COMING SOON - FALL 2014