Marlon gazed out of Vickie’s apartment window into the darkness high above the surrounding buildings. The full moon had caught his eye as it glowed like a bright pearl against the backdrop of a cloudless night sky. He had always preferred it’s pale glow to the blinding glare of the sun and was fascinated by the moon’s almost magical properties; the way it influenced the levels of the ocean’s tides and how it altered people’s moods. The fact that it was exponentially closer to the earth than the star whose light it reflected made the moon feel even more special to him, like a friend that only lived a few doors down.
“What are you over there staring at?” Vickie asked from the other side of the room. She was in bed, dressed in just her underwear, surrounded by textbooks, notepads, pens, highlight markers and different-colored sticky notes stuck to pages, flapping like feathers from the breeze generated by the small, desktop fan on the nightstand next to her. Her panties and bra weren’t a matching set but she was comfortable enough around him that she really didn’t care. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, messy and wild, a sharp contrast to the conservatively neat styles she usually wore when she ventured outside of her cozy, one-bedroom apartment. The sides of her that she showed the rest of the world and what she allowed him to see were two completely different things.
“I’m just looking up at the moon. It’s full tonight,” he answered, turning away from the window to give her his full attention. “What are you over there studying?” he asked.
“I’m working on a paper for my anthropology class,” she answered as she dragged a yellow highlighter across a passage in the textbook in her lap.
“Anthropology. Now, there’s a subject that’ll come in handy in life,” he said playfully.
“Says the electrical engineer who passionately expressed the virtues of being well-rounded and learned when he tried to explain why he was taking world arts to me earlier today,” she answered, raising her glasses off of her nose and resting them on top of her head.
“You’re so cute when you’re being a smartass,” her.
“Oh really? So cute that I’m doing my anthropology paper instead of getting that second round that you promised me?” she asked sarcastically.
“Don’t pout. You know that I’m a man of my word,” he said as he walked away from the window and got back into bed with her, shoving some of her papers aside.
“Ugh, you’re making a mess,” she complained halfheartedly because the truth was, she could think of a long list of things she would rather be doing at the moment and none of those things had anything to do with her anthropology paper or any form of schoolwork.
“What’s the theme of this paper that you’re working so hard on?” he asked while running his finger gently across her shoulder.
“I’m writing a paper on how women are depicted differently from men in almost everything you read in literature. I’m calling it Subtle Sexism,” she answered, slightly excited by his touch.
“That seems like an odd subject for an anthropology project. I thought anthropology was about digging up old bones and cracked clay pots,” he joked.
“That’s part of it but it’s a lot more than that. Anthropology is the study of humankind. In more technical terms, it’s the comparative study of human societies and cultures and their development,” she answered.
“You know I love it when you talk nerdy to me right?” he told her, then gently started planting kisses on her shoulder blade.
“Is that so?” she asked as thoughts of how language was used in a recent newspaper article to describe a female nominee for the next U.S. presidency in a manner that made her seem weaker than her male counterparts floated out of her head, replaced by carnal curiosity about what Marlon planned to do next.
“Yes, that’s a fact. Smart women are way sexier than dumb ones,” he answered while playing with her belly button with his index finger.
“I have a lot of work to do,” Vickie sighed, protesting weakly.
Marlon slid his fingers in a straight line below her belly button across her soft skin gradually until he slipped his hand past the waistband of her underwear. She was wet and sticky between her most feminine lips. The highlight marker fell from Vickie’s fingers as she began to moan and pull her own hair. Marlon smiled, because of how she responded to what he was doing to her with just his fingers. To him, it was like playing a musical instrument. The sounds she made changed depending on how and where he touched her. There was no guessing involved on his part anymore because he knew what she liked and had learned what she loved.
As much as Vickie enjoyed his touch, she refused to become so completely lost in pleasure that she forgot that she had power over him as well. The Victoria that she carefully and deliberately constructed each morning to present to the world served as the cage that kept the wilder side of Vickie contained, metaphorically restrained. She had always been afraid to let that side of herself loose. The countless lectures from her mother about always being a proper lady and the good girl at all times had warped her perception of sexuality to such a degree that she was ashamed of some of the things she desired to do, and to have done to her. It was only since she moved into her own apartment and met Marlon that she had been able to do so much of what she had been taught not to do.
When Marlon’s fingers were no longer enough to satisfy her, she kicked and shoved all of her schoolwork out of the bed and onto the floor. Anthropology, sexism in social media and everything else that pertained to school was swept from her mind. Marlon might have started out as the aggressor but Vickie quickly became more lustful than the first woman who bit into the biblical forbidden fruit in the first garden. Even Marlon was surprised by how aggressive she suddenly became.
In the blink of an eye, Marlon found himself flat on his back on Vickie’s mattress. She nearly ripped his T-shirt as she pulled it up over his head and once it was off, she flung it across the room. He winced in pain when she roughly shoved her hand down in front of his boxer briefs and groped him. Women sometimes underestimate how sensitive a man’s male parts are. He took off his underwear himself and to his relief, she was much more gentle with her mouth than she had been with her hands.
With her full, pouty lips, Vickie kissed him on his stomach first and then much lower. The wetness of her mouth was one of his favorite parts of their ritualistic foreplay when they warmed each other up for what came next. He skillfully unhooked her bra with one hand and freed her breasts so that he could fondle them. The stiffness of her nipples excited him and Marlon marveled at how God had shaped and molded women into such beautiful forms. Curvy, voluptuous, pleasantly plump, slim-thick, chunky, short or tall, he admired them all but at the moment, Vickie was his Venus and he knew exactly what to do with her.
Vicki tasted that she had brought Marlon to the brink of climax right before he grabbed her head and stopped her. Mischievously she smiled, satisfied that she had almost finished him off with just her mouth. She recognized in his face how hard he fought to stay in control, of his own body and the entire situation in general. Vicki empathized with his struggle and decided to relinquish the reins, just for little while. Her lover switched places with her and she ended up on her back with her legs on Marlon’s shoulders. The course stubble where he had trimmed his beard tickled the soft and sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
Marlon boldly pressed his face between her legs and with a firm grip on her supple limbs, he forced her legs apart so that he could taste how sweet she really was. Like a small waterfall, she flowed and made his face glisten, from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin. Vickie loved the way he kissed her second pair of lips. Her toes curled as both of her legs began to tremble. The way she smelled and the flavor of her sweetness on his tongue was one of the things Marlon loved because it intoxicated him. He brought her to the edge of climax but, before he pushed her off into the pleasurable chasm that was an orgasm, he took his tongue away.
The way Marlon abruptly stopped making love to her with his mouth nearly drove Vickie insane. She was tempted to reach down and choke him because of how he had cruelly teased her. He deserved at least a slap. Before she had a chance to voice her displeasure, he climbed on top of her. Then she gasped from the sensation of his penetration and fell recklessly in lust from the feeling of that first stroke. Each one after that one intensified and made her body shiver as he delivered even more than she had expected, forcing her to wonder what might have inspired him so. That question danced in her head for split-second but, as waves of pleasure washed over her, she simply didn’t care, at least not in that moment. Women tended to be mentally gifted in that way. She filed away her suspicions in the back of her mind for later discussion so that she could focus on what she was getting from him and simply enjoyed what was happening.
Marlon’s lips curled into a wicked grin when Vicki pushed him off of her so that she could roll over and get on all fours on the mattress. She looked back at him over her shoulder as he licked his lips and prepared to take her from behind. He used his left-hand to hold her slender waist and his right hand to squeeze the meaty cheek of her butt that was larger than one would imagine on a woman with her petite frame. Aside from her breasts, she had the upper body of the skinny woman but her lower half was round and plump. Marlon often wondered how she successfully hid all of that, such an incredibly voluptuous body, underneath her clothes.
He tried to last for as long as he could but the way she threw it back on him, he just couldn’t hold on. In complete ecstasy and trapped by the walls of her wet warmth, he almost didn’t pull out in time. As he finally exploded, he felt as if he had spilled a part of his soul all over her back, butt cheeks and bedsheets. It wasn’t difficult for him to understand and relate to why orgasms were once called “the little death” by that old, famous playwright, Shakespeare. Marlon was completely convinced that a portion of his life force was drained every time he came. He wasn’t sure if it was the same for women. Vickie always appeared to be the exact opposite, energized, as if she had been given life, and was ready to go again.
Vickie was impressed with herself when she saw the spent expression on Marlon’s face. She could have allowed him to control how fast, or how slowly he pushed inside her so that he could have lasted longer but, towards the very end, she took back the power she had allowed him to borrow when they first started by controlling the rhythm of their sex. The way she had thrust herself back into him stimulated the most sensitive part of his manhood as his tip hit the deepest parts of her. After he erupted and collapsed on the bed, she cuddled up beside him. Now that they were both satisfied, her mind returned to the thoughts she had temporarily suppressed. Marlon put his arm around her and Vickie planted a few soft kisses on his hairless bare chest.
Copyright © 2015 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.