Savannah and Martin at 219 Harper's Cove Page 2

  “Very nearly.” I turn my face to his and he draws it to him and kisses me.

  Warm and soft. His lips are amazing. He nibbles my lower lip and I nearly come undone. His hands wrap around my waist and one travels up my back, up my neck, and wraps itself into my hair tight. Then he yanks my hair and pulls my head back to kiss my neck.

  I almost come from the sheer intensity of his touch. It’s like sparks radiating out all over my skin. My blood shoots to boiling and warms everything inside me, and I go wet―soaking wet. I want this man. I’m not sure why he has the effect on me that he has, but I want him like I’ve never wanted another man in this group. We’ve got a good-looking bunch, and it’s been hard over the years to remember that we’re not supposed to be emotionally attached, but this is something else entirely. It’s like a drug coursing through my veins for the first time, and I’m almost overwhelmed by the sensation.

  “Let’s take this upstairs, shall we?” he asks, and I’m happier to hear those words than I have been any others in a long, long time. I nod. “Here.” He stands, takes my glass, places it on the table for me, and draws me up against him. Can he feel my hard nipples against his chest? I’m guessing so, because a hand comes around and cradles one of my breasts while the other travels down to my ass and cups one cheek. I’m in heaven, and I still have my panties on.

  “Bedroom?” he says, pointing up the stairs. I nod, mute. “Let’s go.” He sounds more like a ten-year-old boy going to his first swim meet than a man going upstairs with a woman he doesn’t know to have sex. And I feel like a thirteen-year-old girl going to her first boy/girl party. It’s crazy, I know, but this guy does something to me.

  The bedroom door is open, but he closes it behind us, then grabs my arm and slams me up against it. I feel the panels in the door cutting into my shoulders. Both of his hands are on my face, and he kisses me, another long, hot kiss that makes me pant when he turns loose. He takes my hand and leads me to the bed, turns me around, and presses me down to sit. I’m almost at the perfect level to suck him, but that’s not what he’s got in mind.

  Top edge of my panties in his fingers, he kneels in front of me and begins to pull them downward, so I rise up just a smidge to allow them to come down. When he’s got them down to my ankles, I pick up my feet and he whisks them off, then tosses them toward the door. A big, firm hand rests on each of my knees, and he presses my legs apart.

  “Ah. Beautiful. You smell lovely. May I?” he asks, nodding toward the apex of my thighs.

  I can barely speak. “Please. Take charge.”

  There’s a flicker of something across his face. He makes his way between my thighs and licks the inside of each one, sending shivers up my spine that I can’t control. My hard nipples turn to stainless steel, so hard they burn. That tongue explores my mons, my lips, and then finds its way into the entrance of my pussy. It’s hot and strong, and I feel it curl as it travels up between my labial lips and finds my pearl, just at the top of the divide. The curling goes around its perimeter and then straight up its center, and I arch my back and fall backward, landing on my elbows.

  “I’m not going to make you come this way,” he whispers to me. “I just want to watch you squirm.”

  Squirm. I’m uncomfortable with squirming. I need more than to just squirm, but he sets about torturing me. If this is what his wife gets every night, she’s one lucky, lucky, very lucky woman. It’s unbearable heaven and I’m beyond turned on. Digging my fingers into his scalp as he laps at me, I run my hands down his dreads, and I hear him moan, a deep, throaty sound that makes me even needier than I already was. When I’m right at the edge, he stops, then presses two fingers into my cunt.

  I almost scream. The pressure is disarming, and then he begins to pump. I’m slapping my toes on the floor, begging without words, and he knows it. Just when I think I can’t take another second, he stops, climbs up onto the bed, and pulls me up from the edge and into the center, my head on the pillows. “Savannah, I want to fuck you so bad. Are you ready?”

  “Ohhhhh, god, yes. I want it too.” I can barely speak. Those firm, hot lips cover mine and I’m floating away on a river of passion, something so deep and dark that it doesn’t have words. His tongue rakes along mine, a scalding rubbing, and I moan into his mouth. I feel him reposition himself as he kisses me and, before I know it, my legs are forced apart by his knees and he’s kneeling between them. As he’s kneeling, he’s taking off his briefs, and when he finally breaks the kiss and rises to his knees between my legs, I almost faint.

  His cock is amazing. It’s got a huge, throbbing head, and his shaft is almost as big around as my wrist. I’m staring―I can’t help it. It’s just so, well, I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I want to reach out and grab it, but all I can manage to squeak out is, “May I suck you?”

  “Nope.” He smiles, then rolls on a condom. “I want to fuck you, Savannah. I want to be all the way up in that pretty little pink pussy of yours, burning up all those juices you’ve worked up with the friction I’m going to pour on. Are you ready for that? Do you want me to fill you up, sweetness?”

  “Oh, hell yes. Please, please, fill me up.” I’m barely able to breathe. I want this and I want it right now.

  He slips his hands into the hollows behind my knees, lifts me up so my ass is on his thighs, and positions the head of his cock in the entrance to my pussy. I really am squirming now; I don’t want to wait anymore. Then he grins at me, a pretend-evil grin that makes me smile. “Beg me. I want you to be my whore. Beg me for my dick. I’ll ram you if you’ll beg like a slutty girl.”

  “Please, oh god, please fuck me!” I’m frantic now. “Please, Tristan, please? I need it so bad. Please, please, pretty please?”

  “That’s pretty good begging! I’m impressed. Now say, ‘Shove your cock into my pussy, stud.’ I want to hear you say it.”

  “Shove your cock into my pussy, stud. Please? Hard?”

  When the word “hard” comes out of my mouth, he pulls back slightly and rams me with all his might. I almost come up off the bed. The shriek that comes from between my lips shocks even me. With that, he starts an almighty pumping that would put most men to shame; well, most of the men I know. He’s powering into me full-throttle, and the stretch he’s giving my sheath is epic. On top of that, the angle he’s using is scrubbing across my g-spot, and my orgasm is gaining ground with every thrust. It’s almost intolerable. I don’t know what to do to make it stop, or make it go faster, or make it … at this point, I’m not sure what I want.

  Looking up, his tempered chest and biceps make me swoon. They’re some kind of glorious. He’s some kind of glorious. None of the other guys in our group are built as powerfully as this, all muscle and brawn. His skin is glossy with sweat, the sheen on its darkness making his muscle definition even clearer.

  But it’s the way he looks down at me, like he’s going to eat me alive, devour me, suck me into him and never even spit out a bone, that makes the want inside me grow and spiral and twist, and I’m finding it hard to breathe. I let out a hoarse, “I’m gonna come. Come with me, Tristan, please?”

  “Go ahead and come, baby. Ride the crest of the wave.” Instead of just stroking into me, now he’s stroking and, at the same time, using his hands under my knees to push me out and pull me back into him in rhythm with his stroking. His cock head is hitting bottom over and over, making me almost squeal, and I feel the clenching of every muscle in my abdomen before, without warning, I shriek out, “Oh my god! I’m coming!” and I turn loose.

  My hips are bucking out of control and my hands are gripping my breasts, squeezing them, pulling my nipples and twisting them, and he’s still going, still pounding into me. “Oh god,” I groan out in an unfamiliar, strained voice I don’t ever remember hearing coming from my mouth before. And just when I think I can’t take another second, I feel him slam into me, then grind, and grunt a few times as he fills his condom.

  But instead of falling onto me, he runs his hands down m
y legs, grips my ankles, and holds them behind his ass as he leans back on them. I watch him as he stares down his chest and belly straight into the spot where his shaft disappears into my wetness. “Sweet lord, my prick looks good buried in your pretty pussy, girlie,” he grins.

  I need to start again―immediately. “Oh, god, I need you to fuck me again, Tristan, please?”

  He laughs, then drops down over me onto his hands, staring down into my face. “How was that?”

  I drag my hands through my hair absentmindedly. “Amazing. Incredible. I want more.”

  “Ah, it’s time for that sucking you wanted to give me. Do you still want to suck me?”

  “Oh, hell yes! Here, I’ll do that,” I say as he leans back again, and I roll the condom off his cock and throw it in the trash. He’s still on his knees on the bed, leaning back with his hands, his back arched toward me, and I drop to my elbows and take his softness into my mouth.

  He goes hard instantly. It’s like I can feel it growing on my tongue. Before more than a few seconds have gone by, he’s rock-hard and I’m struggling to get him all the way into my mouth. I take the head of his cock down my throat and he lets loose with a roar. “Oh, yeah, suck me! Take it all, cock-sucking little bitch. I love your tongue. Suck me good!” No one’s ever talked to me like that, and it takes the fire already between my legs to inferno proportions. I just want to taste his cum down my throat like a flood, and he’s well on his way. I’m not surprised when he says, “I’m taking over, baby. Here we go.” He threads his big hands into my hair and drags my face down over him.

  His cock goes down my throat―hard. I gag but he drags me onto him again, and I finally find a way to open up enough to let the head down into my throat. He’s slamming deep into my velvety pinkness, and I’m trying to stay open so I don’t choke. “Oh yeah, that’s so good, so good. You’re good at the deep throat thing, really, really good. I’m gonna give you all the spunk you can handle, slut, yes I am.” He sucks breath in between his teeth and I’m going insane, my hands on his thighs, wishing I could stroke my clit while I’m sucking him.

  I try to push back a little, but Tristan barks, “Hands out! Arms straight out! I’m in charge, girl. I’ll fuck your face the way I like. Arms out!” he yells again, and I force my arms straight out perpendicular to my body. He’s dragging my face up and down on his shaft. I’m no longer in control in any way, and I’m so turned on I feel like I’ll faint. He starts to growl, “Ohhh, ohhh, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, slut. You’ll swallow it, slut, every drop, you hear me? Swallow my cum, girl. Ohhh, ohhh god, here it comes. Here it comes. Get ready to swallow. Get ready. Ahhhhhhh …” I feel the flood, the heat, taste the salty bitterness, and it’s everywhere, down my throat, bubbling out around my lips, under my tongue, pooling in my cheeks. “Awwww, yeah, swallow me down,” he snarls again, and I’m swallowing as fast and deep as I can.

  Once I’ve gotten it all down, I start to lick him clean. To my surprise, he lets out something that sounds like a whimper, then falls onto the mattress. Before I can get it all licked up, he grabs my arm and pulls me up to him, rolling on top of me, kissing me hard and deep. My whole body is on fire when I say, “Can you taste yourself on me? Taste your cum in my mouth?”

  He kisses me twice more. “Yeah, I do. God, you’re something else. I hope you didn’t mind me talking to you like that, but it really turns me on.”

  “Turns me on too,” I grin. “Nobody’s ever talked to me like that before. I like it.”

  “Does anybody else fuck your face like that?” he asks with a lopsided grin.

  “Nope. And I love that too,” I grin back.

  “Good! We’re on the same wavelength. That makes everything better.” He kisses me again and I’m awash in sensation. “Get up on your hands and knees. I want to fuck your ass.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice. He lubes me up, lubes up his wrapped rod, and then bores into me. While he pumps into my ass, he reaches around me and strokes my clit. I wouldn’t even say he’s pumping into me; it’s more like a dog hunching another dog. It’s raw and unsettling in a very hot way. I come violently. Once I’m done, he grabs a handful of my hair, yanks my head back, and fucks into me like there’s no tomorrow, my asshole burning with the stretch. When he’s filled that condom, he drops onto the mattress and pulls me into his side.

  “Wondering how Jasmine’s doing?” I ask when we’re both still.

  “Yeah. I’ve never shared her with anybody before.” He stops for a second, deep in thought , then says, “She’s never shared me with anybody else either. Wonder how she’s feeling about that?”

  I trace around one of his dark nipples. “The first time we did it, it was kind of a shock. After that, though, it was okay. I look forward to it now. All of the guys in the group are very sexually talented, so I’m always satisfied. I like them all; I can’t say there’s any one that I like better than all the rest. They’re all so different, but they’re all so good. Being with women other than their wives makes them stay on their toes, learn new sexual material, try new things. Then we’re treated to the results of their adventures in our own bedrooms. It’s great. Martin and I have really grown sexually as a couple since we’ve been swinging.”

  Tristan has a thoughtful look on his face. “I see what you’re saying. So let me ask you something: Has Martin come home telling you that one of the other women has done something for him that you’d balked at before?”

  I nod slowly, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. He came home one night and told me that Layla let him fist her. I hadn’t ever let him do that to me.”

  “And?” Tristan grins at me in curiosity.

  “I let him fist me the very next evening. I didn’t want him to go back to her for something I wouldn’t do for him, and I found out that’s he’s really good at it and I like it. I’ve had to be willing to deliver whatever everyone else is delivering or risk feeling inadequate. It’s really made me grow as a sex partner.”

  “That’s interesting.” Tristan’s fingers have found my nipple and they’re pinching and tweaking it over and over. “Wonder what Jasmine’s experience will be?”

  We fucked all night long―and I mean all night long. At five thirty on Saturday morning, he leads me down the stairs with his boxer briefs in his hand. Once we’re downstairs, he puts on his shirt, then bends me over the arm of the sofa and fucks me one last time. When he finishes, he throws away his condom, draws on the rest of his clothes, then kisses me, smacks my ass with his hand, and grins when he says, “Keep it real, pretty pussy.” He blows me a kiss as he closes the door behind him.

  I smile as I wonder what they’ll be talking about down at the Waffle Iron. Do they talk about us? Martin has assured me that they do. There are no secrets. Might as well not be―every one of them will be sleeping with every one of us eventually. But I’d still love to hear that conversation.

  4

  Gloria

  When I go out to pick up the newspaper from the driveway, I see a strange sight. There’s a black man leaving the McIntoshs’ house. I look at my watch. It’s ten after six in the morning. And I don’t see Mr. McIntosh’s car in the driveway. Wonder what that’s about?

  “Russell, there’s a colored man leaving the McIntosh’s house. And Mr. McIntosh’s car isn’t there.”

  He doesn’t even look up from his pancakes. “So?”

  “So, don’t you think that’s weird?” Even Russell has to agree that it’s strange.

  “It’s none of my business.” He keeps shoveling pancakes into his piehole. “And that’s politically incorrect. It’s black, not that other word.”

  “Really, Russell, that’s all you’re concerned with? If the neighborhood’s going down the toilet, it’s everybody’s business.” I get tired of him saying that to me. I mean, if there’s something going on over there, we all should know.

  “Gloria, I’ve told you a million times and I’ll tell you again: Stay out of the neighbors’ business. I mean it.”


  I keep watching. At about twenty after seven, Mr. McIntosh’s car comes pulling up into the driveway. I’d like to run out and try to catch him, talk to him for a minute, but it’s kind of early and he’d probably wonder why I was out at that time of the morning.

  But I can tell you this: I’ll be watching that house for awhile, oh yes I will. I’m already sure there’s some perverted stuff going on at some of the other neighbors’ houses. If there’s something going on over at the McIntoshs’ house, I’m going to find that out too.

  Wonder what Mr. McIntosh would say if I told him what I saw?

  5

  Savannah

  On Tuesday I almost make it into the house when I hear someone crying out, “Mrs. McIntosh! Mrs. McIntosh!”

  Damn. It’s her.

  “Hi, Gloria. What can I do for you?” I’ve got my keys in my hand and I’m still edging toward the house.

  “Hi!” She’s out of breath from running toward me. “I just wanted to check and see if you were all right.”

  “I’m fine. Just fine. Why would you ask?” What is she up to?

  She’s still gasping. “I just wanted to make sure. I saw that big black man coming out of your house last Saturday morning.”

  Shit.

  Now what? She’s watching our house. What does she think we’re doing every other Friday night? Before I can finish the thought, she says, “So what exactly is going on over here on those Friday nights?”

  Damn. Think, Savannah. “We play cards. Every other Friday night. It’s a big thing for us.”

  “Really? Oh, that sounds like fun!” Uh-oh, my brain screams, and it’s not for no reason. “I’d love to come sometime and play, Russell and I, I mean.”

  “Well, actually, we’ve been doing this for some time now. We’re really, really close friends, and―”