To: “Bales, Maxine” <mbales@yahoo.com>

From: “James, Corey”<Corey_J82@gmail.com>

Sent: Wednesday, January 11 2012 2:42AM

Subject: What’s up stranger?

Hey love,

You’re probably wondering how I got your email and let me just start off by saying that I am not stalking you, I know how you can get with your imagination and shit. I actually ran into your girl Dawn at a lounge in SoHo yesterday. She was there with her husband having drinks tryna add a little bit more spice into their life, her words.

I was more blown away at the fact that she’s married now, she used to be a wild girl like someone I know lol.

Anyway, she was telling me how you moved from Philly and was back in Brooklyn, and I honestly thought I would have been the first person you got in contact with, but you probably lost my number. Or are you just not interested anymore? Impossible j/k.

I don’t really like to communicate via the net, emails can get misunderstood and the things that I really want to say would probably be best said face-to-face but this is the only way I can connect with you right now since Dawn said it was against girl code to give me your number before giving you the heads up first.

It’s cool to see that the two of you are still close, btw.

I can’t stop thinking about that very last night that I saw you before you moved out to PA. All your stuff packed up in boxes, your white walls bare, and the only thing that remained was the mattress on your bedroom floor. We had a lot of good memories in that place. If you would have stayed there longer, I probably would have popped the question to you there.

That night, I didn’t really care what was left in that room, I would have made love to you on the naked carpet, giving you burns to remember me by, because the feeling that you gave both physically and mentally was unmatched to anything else in the world. I can still remember your scent that night, peaches and cream body oil. How you sounded when I hit that lost spot.  You had the sexiest moans, and you were a loud one.

Not to be cocky, but I doubt you was able to find better than that night in Philly, that’s probably why you’re back.

I’m just playing with you. Kind of like how you always wanted me to play with you down below while I teased your hidden spot with my finger and would reward you when I struck gold. Yup, I’m still the freak you left behind:-P.

Back to that night though – it was cool that we kept it simple, instead of blowing money on a fancy dinner and deciding to just order a box of pizza and sip on that white wine we bought from the supermarket down the block. I didn’t realize it then but now I know that you were one of the most dopest females I’ve dated, and it’s been damn near difficult to find anyone even remotely close to you, beauty or personality wise. I guess I should ask if you’re single first before I continue, right? Fuck it!

Besides, I already got the 411 from Dawn on your status, she secretly wants us to get back together and she’s not the only one.

You still rocking that baby pink ring between your lips, your other lips? Yup, I remember that too, how could I forget? lol.

Remember that time when you and Dawn was living in that small one-bedroom apartment in Sunset Park and you couldn’t go another night without some and asked for me to come over so that I could make you come with Dawn just feet away in the living room?

You kept telling me to go deeper and to suck and lick you here and there, mad bossy! But I did what you asked because I loved to please you and watch your eyes roll behind your head and you bite your lip as your body shook with no control. Did you find someone who can make you squirt like I did? Probably not, I got a special technique for that. Let me stop.

But I think you can agree that I gave it to you so good that night. I remember I went home with scratches all over my back. That must have been a challenge for you back then though, to keep it down. Even with me covering your mouth, a few of those moans must have slipped out. When it was good, you always had a habit of letting a brother know.

Oh, and do you still feel the same way about saying my name? You used to tell me how you didn’t get why men cared for hearing their lady call their name but you did it all the time. You don’t have to admit it, we both know the deal.

But for real, above all that, I genuinely miss us.

I hope you understand now why I couldn’t do the long distance relationship thing. It would have been tough. And yeah I’m a strong dude, but that shit would have drove me crazy. Wondering where you were and who you were with. Wanting to be close to you so that I could feel your soft skin and not being able to make love to you whenever the feeling came over me.

It was hard letting you go because at the end of the day you were my heart. You fulfilled me sexually and emotionally plus giving me much more than I expected.

At any rate, this ended up being a ridiculously long email and I apologize if I’m coming off as a cornball but I just needed to reach out to you to let you know that I’m still thinking about you and I still crave you.

So if I don’t hear from you, know that I miss you and I’m always thinking about you.

Take care.

Corey.

THE END

All good things come to an end, but she didn’t think that it would ever happen to her, well not with this. She knew that her relationship with a married man was wrong, her girlfriends Denise and Courtney reminded her of that every chance they got.

“What is wrong with you? Please, don’t be that girl” She remembered Denise warning her.

“I could never share a man,” Courtney’s sentiment echoed in the corners of her mind.

But to Leila, Darnell was different.

He made her feel whole, filling any empty void in what she felt was her meaningless life. He gave her meaning where she didn’t think any existed. It was more than looks when it came to him; he was the man she’d always dreamed of being with. The type of man she wouldn’t mind giving up her father’s last name for.

Even after he revealed that he was married following their salacious after-hour-hook-up on his office desk, she still thought him to be this amazing man. But after her unexpected meeting with his wife this morning, she wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

“Excuse me, are you Leila?” She remembered the curvy petite woman asking as Leila dined alone outside a café.

Connie, that was her name, had the complexion of slow melting caramel and light brown eyes to match. She looked like she shopped and dined at the finest restaurants and boutiques and appeared to never miss a hair or nail appointment.

Connie would ask if she could speak with Leila privately. And when she got Leila alone, in the café’s cramped bathroom built for one, she would reveal that she was Darnell’s wife. Leila had a hunch that this woman looked familiar, she recognized her from the small photo that Darnell kept on his desk.

“You’re just his flavor of the month; he does this all the time.” Connie would cockily explain, twirling a strand of her honey blonde-dyed curls on her slim finger while tossing around a wad of gum in her mouth.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t look so surprised, I know about you. I know all about what you and my husband are doing. I’ll admit, you are a step above the rest,” Connie said surveying Leila from her head down to her brown leather knee-high boots, “Just last year, it was an 18-year old hostess.”

Leila dug her nails deeper into the edge of her mattress thinking about the wave of shame she felt as Connie basically called her worthless. The tears began to well in her eyes at the thought of how numb Connie was to Darnell’s infidelity. Leila felt stupid that she considered herself to be special, that this man would risk his marriage to be with her.

After that night in his office, Leila continued to see Darnell against her better judgment. She let him court her with long-stem roses that were delivered to her desk and even to her apartment when she was no longer his temp after his secretary returned from maternity leave.

She let him make love to her long into the night, allowing him to hit spots within her that she didn’t even know could be physically touched.

She let him tell her that he loved her and allowed him to hear her express how much she loved him too.

Leila shook her head at the thought of thinking that she was the exception to the rule and that she was more than the deemed mistress title, but that was all a lie because according to Connie, Darnell’s cheating wasn’t uncommon, there were others – but exactly how many?

***

Leila heard her bell rang.

She knew who it was but she couldn’t move. The events of the day had paralyzed her, anger now replacing hurt.

Moments later, Leila heard a knock at the door.

“Leila, open the door,” Darnell commanded while ringing her apartment door furiously. When he didn’t hear a response on the other end, he reached above her door panel and swiped his hand across dropping the spare keys Leila kept hidden in case she misplaced her set.

After letting himself in, he flicked on the light and made his way toward the bedroom where he saw Leila sitting at the edge of her bed in tears. Even with her dark brown mascara running down her cheeks, she was beautiful. Her short cropped curls shinned under her ceiling fan’s light and all she wore was a black bra with dark blue jeans that clung to her shapely thighs.

Connie had filled him in on what occurred earlier that day and demanded that he go to Leila’s place and end their relationship for good. He sincerely loved Leila but Connie was his wife and the mother of his son. She was a wife that found it in her heart to forgive him for his many infidelities. He wanted to do right by Connie by doing as she wished, but wasn’t planning on doing it tonight.

“Baby, I…”

“You know how humiliated I was today?” Leila asked. Her eyes fixed on her jeans. She watched as a tear fell from her chin to her lap before dissolving into the denim’s fabric.

“I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry,” He said halfheartedly.

Leila nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you sure are sorry.” She stood up to walk away and Darnell followed behind as she made her way out of her bedroom.

“You knew what you was getting involved in though. I’m just sorry that Connie did that.”

Leila stopped in her tracks and shot Darnell a glare that would freeze his soul if it could .She chuckled to herself at the fact that he didn’t get it and mentally kicked herself for falling for his good looks and fake sympathy, wondering why she didn’t see the real him sooner.

“Tell me about the others, apparently I wasn’t the first.”

Darnell paused for a moment and remained silent, running his fingers over his low-trimmed facial hair before relocating to the kitchen making sure to avoid eye contact with Leila as he audaciously strolled past.

“Last year you had a thing with an 18-year old waitress?” She patted her forehead for emphasis, “Oh, no, my mistake, she was a hostess.”

Leila watched as he removed the ice tray from the freezer, dropping the frozen blocks into a glass before filling it with water.

When she felt that he was antagonizing her with his silence as he stood in her kitchen tossing ice into his mouth, she demanded that he leave.

“Let’s be honest here,” He retorted, walking toward her with the glass in one hand, “you don’t want me to do that.”

Leila looked at him like he had gone mad. “Yes, I do, now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Now in front of her, he took another condescending sip of his drink and then sat it on the island behind her. Instead of pulling back to face her again, he stood close in front of her, his lips mere inches from her ear and whispered to her to calm down before placing a kiss on her earlobe.

The coolness of his lip sent a chill that formed at the nape of her neck and moved down her back. She instinctively wanted to push him away but as usual she felt trapped by his essence.

Her eyes burned from the hours of crying. And the tears that were forming in them again, in her attempt to break free, were irritating them even more.

Darnell pulled her into a hug and when she was close, he soothed her by rubbing her back and gently swaying with her from side to side.

“I can’t do this anymore.” The words managed to leave her lips as her feelings took hold of her voice. Inside, she meant it but at the surface she just wanted to go back to the way it was before her run-in with Connie.

Darnell let her free from their hug long enough to lead her toward her bedroom and then to the bathroom.

When they were inside, he twisted the chipped silver nob in her tub to turn on the water and released the shower tab. Leila watched as the water sprinkled from the shower head and she closed her eyes as Darnell peeled away his clothes. The look that he wore was somber, one that she wasn’t quite used to. And as he removed the last of his clothing, pulling down his heather gray boxer briefs, she stared in admiration at the smooth brown swollen tool that started it all and that was beginning to become firm and rise.

He stood there bared-suit wearing confidence wanting for her to take in all that she was willing to give up. She loved how he looked under the moon’s glow that shined through her bathroom window bringing out the jaded green in his eyes.

Darnell extended his hand for Leila to take and she went. Again, he pulled her into a hug this one tighter than the last then ran the tip of his finger from her left shoulder blade to the crest of her bottom. In one swift move, he unhooked her bra. Instead of watching as it released Leila’s full C cup, he got down on his knees, unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled them down taking her dark satin panties off as well.

He buried his mouth and nose into her low-trimmed hairs and inhaled her as if she were made of fresh linens. Parting her lips, he swiped the tip of his tongue over her dampness, tasting the tartness of her core and savoring it.

Repositioning her against the bathroom’s cooled cement wall that sweat from the shower’s steam, Darnell left trails of kisses toward her lips. When their lips met, he divided them, roping her tongue with his. He placed her hands on his hardness encouraging her to stroke it like she knew how too. “Do you still love me?” He asked as he unwrapped the condom he kept tucked in his palm, then covering his erection.

Leila remained silent because she was sure he already knew the answer.

He hooked her right leg with his hand and hiked it slightly so that he could enter and when he slipped slowly into Leila, she melted all over it. The day’s events were cleared from her mind as his every inch disappeared and reappeared between her legs. It wasn’t just about the sex for her, it was the entire experience. He touched her where she needed to be touched, and whispered the words she needed to hear.

Darnell knew how deep to go and where she liked to be teased. He used his free hand to pin her arms over her head as her inner muscles held him tight and she gave in to her first release.

He had the power to force her into the now as he bent her over the bathroom’s sink and maintained eye contact with her while he made love to her with her back toward him as she watched him work her out in the bathroom’s mirror.

And in the shower, where he delicately soaped her body giving mini massages in discrete locations, Leila knew that she couldn’t give this up. He may not be all of hers but she’d much rather half instead of none.

As the two continued to satisfy their carnal desires, washing away their impurities while creating new ones under the hot shower, Darnell’s phone screen lit up with a call.

Darnell didn’t notice that his phone was ringing but Leila did. And when she spotted Connie’s name scrolled on the top of the screen, she walked under the shower’s head so that the falling water could mask her tears allowing Darnell to make love to her long into the night, knowing that he would go back home to his wife.

The sound of lighting crashing against the wet sky made the darkness even more haunting as I sat there thinking of other options.

It was mid-terms week and procrastination had left me with two exams to study for and a 10-page report on the pros and cons of social media, with only 6 pages written.

“Shit” I hissed. Before I could mentally sort through a list of possible excuses I could give my professor, I remembered – he did say if I needed anything, I could just call him.

Fine, I didn’t keep his number logged in my iPhone for situations like this. But any reason to get around Professor Miller without the prying eyes of my peers was good enough for me.

A second year grad student that taught undergrads part-time, Miller was incomparable.

Maybe it was his brown-rimmed glasses and full lips that he liked to lick every time he looked my way in class. Or was it his smooth sienna-colored skin that had the right amount of sheen to it and glistened under the classroom’s bulbs?

No, it’s definitely those bedroom eyes that are dark and omniscient. They always made me feel like my thoughts were naked, but I like it.

“Miller,” He said on the other end of my cell.

“Hey,” I responded, softening my voice the way I usually did when I conversed with men I liked at late hours of the night, “I need your help.”

I could hear the rustling of papers on the other end of the phone and felt bad for interrupting whatever he was doing. “And who is this?”

“Oh,” I giggled at myself assuming I was the only girl who had his 10-digits. “Sorry, it’s Nalah.”

The sound of the papers moving around stopped for just a moment as silence replaced words.

“Uh, the power just went out in the dorm and I need to finish this report that’s due tomorrow.” I continued, hoping that I had his attention.

“Well, I’m at home right now, so…”

“I can come over,” I interjected. I could feel him about to give me a soft no and refused to accept it. “And since the paper is for your class, I was thinking you could help me out.”

I could hear him debating with himself as I began tapping the tip of my chipped black painted nail on my computer desk. The orange glow from the street lamp beamed through my dusty window blinds while I wondered what was taking him so long to give me an answer.

“Is it safe for you to come all the way here in this weather? Couldn’t you just go to the student library?” He inquired.

I exhaled like a child who couldn’t get their favorite cereal. “You’re not that far from me you know. If I can recall, you’re just a few blocks off campus, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Come on,” I pleaded. “You did say if I needed anything I could call you. Well this is the anything. You got me or what?”

“Um…”

“What? You got a girl over there or something?”

“No, and that’s really none of your business.” He said sternly.

“Fine, so then what’s up?”

I could feel his hesitation from blocks away. “Alright, you can come over.”

And before he could finish telling me his address, I bolted to the elevator, because he didn’t have to tell me twice.

I pitied all the other students that were going to be without lights for the night as one by one they poked their heads outside the doors of their dorm rooms wondering what had happened to the power. But that was a short lived concern for me because I was too busy anticipating seeing Professor Miller outside of the classroom.

By the time I pressed the tip of my index finger against the metal button that rang Miller’s doorbell outside his apartment building, I was drenched. My jeans were stuck to my skin as if they were made of saran wrap and my white t-shirt might as well have been see-through because it gave those passing by a good view of my purple bra. If I hadn’t tossed on my blue Yankee cap, my pressed strands would have been just as saturated.

Miller didn’t even ask who it was before buzzing me up, presumably because he was already expecting me. As I pulled myself up the fourth flight of stairs, I saw that a door was slightly opened. I peered through the small crack and spotted him sitting at his desk.

When I walked in, I noticed that his apartment was small. Actually, small wasn’t really what it was because it was smaller than that especially for a one bedroom. It was almost the same size of my dorm room but looked smaller because of the random stacks of textbooks that stood like mini-skyscrapers against his wall.

“You made it.” Miller said, looking up at me right before doing a double take. He especially focused those eyes on the two headlights that were staring right back at him through my white shirt and behind my purple bra.

“Yeah I know,” I said reading his thoughts and shaking the excess rain water from my hand, “I’m wet.”

He cleared his throat and pointed to the desk that I would be glued to for the rest of the night. But before I could grab a seat, he offered me a pair of dry basketball shorts and a school t-shirt and showed me to his even more cramped bathroom to change.

Later that night, the time seemed to just fall off the clock. Before I knew it, it was 5 hours later and approaching midnight when I typed up my last paragraph.  Professor Miller was still up, keeping me company with his presence and definitely not his words as he didn’t say more than 2 words to me since I arrived.

“Done,” I said as I clicked on the print tab. The cracking of the sky followed by the heavy patter on his air conditioner from the pouring rain outside gave hint that it wouldn’t be a fun commute back to my dorm.

“If you want, I can grade it right now.”

Really?! He can’t be serious, I thought.

“I think I’m good. I’ll just head out.” I said standing up from my seat. “You mind if I take this with me and bring them back some other time?” I asked pointing at the clothes he’d lent me.

“It’s bad out,” He said, both of us glancing outside his window. There was so much rain coming down that it looked like a tsunami was outside his window as the wind wisped back and forth against the rain. “You can stay on the couch tonight. I wouldn’t feel right sending you back out there with it looking like that.”

I glanced over my shoulder at his brown corduroy sofa bed and grappled with the idea. I really wanted him to offer me his bed with him in it.

“And you’re cool with that?” I asked.

His eyebrow arched for just a second and he mulled over my question then he nodded his answer.

Miller disappeared into his bedroom and returned with a pillow, a stripped fitted sheet, and a matching throw. I watched as his muscles on his medium frame flexed as he removed the cushions from the couch and pulled out the bed.

“If you get hot,” he said pointing at the only window in the living room that had an AC wedged between it, “You can always turn that on.”

I was already turned on, I thought to myself, but just nodded at his suggestion.

As I lay on my side on the sofa bed, one leg under the stripped throw and the other placed on top, I wondered if I was on his mind while he lay in his bedroom just feet away. I could hear the whispers of R&B playing behind his closed door and sensed he was still up. My eyes got heavy and my body was prepared to ease me in to lala land when the AC suddenly shut off.

It was hot, humid, and muggy outside and the thought of no AC for the night terrified me. I got up from the sofa bed to go and take a closer look at the unit. It was not as if I had any clue how to fix it but I had to do something. The soft R&B that was playing in his room was replaced with silence. It was apparent that the power outage hit his building too.

With no AC and no way to open the window, I decided that sleep wasn’t an option. Plus, I was sure that my dorm was able to restore the power or at least keep things running with a backup generator. So I tip toed toward his room, his wood paneled floor creaking below my feet, and slowly pushed open his door to let him know that I would be heading back to my dorm.

But when his bedroom door opened and I spotted him, his back toward me and him lying there shirtless with just his boxers clinging to his lower half, the plan changed.

“Professor Miller,” I whispered as I stood in front of his bedroom’s door. The rain began to fall heavier outside. The wind was literally throwing the rain water against his window at this point.

When I whispered his name again to get his attention he rolled on his back and that’s when I noticed his midnight wood. It pushed at the seat of his boxers and I said a silent prayer for it to peek through the boxers slit. I licked my lips at its long, solid sheathed form and how it stood tall; practically telling me it was okay to have my way.

My eyes bounced between Miller – who was still knocked out – down to his hard on. Each second that passed I felt myself getting even more taken by the sight of this man who even asleep had me captivated.

So I did the first thing that came to mind – I went for it.

I took light steps toward his bed making sure to avoid certain spots on his wooden floor as not to cause the same creaking noises from the living room

I was at his side when I brushed the tip of my nose against his neck that was damp from the heat and smelled of aftershave.

I left a kiss.

I left another one below the last one as my hand smooth down his cleanly shaven chest right before coiling gently around his stiffness that continue to stand tall behind his boxers. The heavy sleeper he was, he let out a groan underneath his breath but still hadn’t opened his eyes.

So I continued.

I moved down to his erection and when I got close I sat in front of it while peeling back the slit of his boxers like a banana. And when it was exposed, I leaned over and slipped him slowly into my mouth.

I wrapped my full lips firmly around him and took as much of him in as I could.

I kept my eyes on him the entire time as I twirled my tongue and sucked up the pre-cum that began to drizzle from the tip. I wanted to see his face the moment he realized that I was pleasing him in his sleep, and no it wasn’t a dream but it bordered one of the many fantasies I’ve had while he scribbled on the blackboard in class.

When I circled the tip with my tongue, his groans got stronger and his eyes slowly opened. They rolled back before they locked with mine.

“Damn Nahla,” He softly uttered before placing his hand on the back of my head, guiding his rod in and then out.

He used his other hand to balance himself so that he could get a better view and watched proudly as I worked all of my oral muscles. He hunched over and moved his free hand from my head to over my back, journeying to my ass. And when he got to it, he cupped its peach shape through the basketball shorts I wore

Miller gently pulled me off of him and pulled me up to straddle him.

“Hold on, do you have a condom?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” He responded.

Remembering that I had a couple of condoms tucked in my wallet in my satchel, I hopped off the bed and made my way toward the bedroom door.

Along the way, I removed his shirt and boxers, and unhooked my purple bra before slipping out of my black lace panties. He watched attentively as each item of clothing fell gently on his bedroom floor and smirked when I draped my lace panties on his bedroom’s doorknob.

When I got to the living room, I fished through my wallet. The sound of the rain dancing on his dead AC masked his footsteps as he crept behind me. I felt his hands wrap around my waist and the thickness of his lips as he pressed them against the back of my neck. I could also feel the sweet nectar between my thighs begin to form.

He retrieved the condom from my hand and slid it swiftly over his erection then guided me toward one of the tall skyscrapers of textbooks that were as tall as my waist. He placed both of my hands on the wall behind them.

The tip of his index finger that began to polish the pill between my lips had me in his control. And he didn’t just enter me like the lovers in my past did. He teased me with it first, only placing the roundness of his dick’s head at my entrance as he continued to rub me to an orgasm.

When he felt me pulsate and my leg twitch, he pushed it all in, I moaned at every inch.

He stroked. I panted.

My moans and his groans picking up where the other left off.

Before turning me around to face him, he pushed aside two of his 600-page textbooks, then placed me on top of his manmade skyscraper, spreading my chocolate legs and slipping in me for more. My mind went blank and sweat trickled down the slope of my breasts, I was in the moment as he worked me over. He had one hand placed behind me for balance and the other lodged beneath one of my cheeks for elevation. His moans got louder as he started to pump me harder.

Then deeper.

He looked me right in the eyes and asked, “Is this what you wanted?”

I left his obvious question unanswered, pulling him into a kiss while feeling his body go limp from his climax.

The rain never did let up and that night, there in his cramped apartment, there were many rounds with Professor Miller. We christened his brown corduroy sofa bed, his bedroom, his kitchen’s entrance, and then his bathroom – the next morning.

Things seemed to have gone back to normal after our private session. Except now when I was in class, I wasn’t fantasizing about what it would be like to have Miller between my legs, I was now reminiscing. Instead of licking his lips at me while he stood in front of the class giving his lectures, he would smile knowingly.

And the following week when he handed back our graded reports, I wasn’t pissed at the B- he gave me, I was too busy smiling ear to ear at the A+ I got for blowing his mind.

THE END.

“So, what are you wearing?” Manny whispered into the phone. His smooth rich baritone was like water to Lila’s parched urge to experience him again, to feel the touch and the stroke of his length just as she did that night.

The two had managed to keep their hands off each other following Lila’s pregnancy scare.

The decision to go all the way with their desires without wrapping up first almost turned costly, but it somehow brought them closer together.

“Oh you know… the usual,” Lila teased while bending her head to take a look at her oversized T-shirt and red Nike basketball shorts, “Nothing but a smile and red lipstick.”

“Liar,” He blurted playfully.

“Why are you interested? It’s not like you’re gon’ come over to confirm.”

“You never know,” He countered.

“Oh, I know.”

Silence followed before Lila decided to change the topic. “How’s Laura?” She asked referring to Manny’s on-again, off-again lady friend.

He started dating her soon after he and Lila decided to be just friends. Manny needed someone to take his mind off her – her hair, her scent, and the softness of her center that made his pole throb every time he thought of it.

Lila on the other hand could care less about Laura; she just asked to be a pain.

Laura’s a great girl – smart, caring, and apparently good with her mouth and tongue, this according to Manny who spared no words when sharing his bedroom Olympics with the rest of the barbers at Kutz Kings. But deep down Lila knew Laura didn’t compare to what she could do to Manny. If so, he would be entertaining Laura and not her.

“Hmm, are you guys off or on today?” Lila poked.

“Funny.”

“I’m serious, what’s up with the two of you? I want to make sure I’m not stepping on any toes.” She could hear Manny exhale on the other end of the phone and imagined him clenching his teeth and his jaw tensing up which always did it for her. He wanted her and she could feel it halfway across town.

“Do me a favor,” He finally said.

“What?”

“Rub your titties for me?”

“What?!” Lila asked bashfully.

Manny laughed while propping himself up on his elbows. His manhood was trying to poke a hole through his boxers and he knew that he wouldn’t get any sleep without relieving himself tonight, with Lila’s help of course.

He and Laura were on, as Lila would put it. In fact, she was out of town visiting family, but he wanted Lila, but didn’t want the guilt of being with her.

“You know you heard me ma.” He said. “Rub them for me.”

Lila smiled knowingly but remained silent.

Manny was getting mildly frustrated with her stubbornness. “Are you doing it or not?”

“Gee, pushy huh?” She joked.

“I miss you.” He whimpered.

She giggled. “Boy, you see me every day.”

“Well, I ain’t talking about that kind of ‘miss you.’ Now stop trying to kill the mood and put those hands where I asked you to place them.”

Lila wedged her cell phone between her ear and shoulder and palmed her breasts, making sure to squeeze her nipples in between her index and middle finger.

“Ok, I’m squeezing them,” She whispered.

“Nah, don’t just squeeze them, rub them.”

“OK,” She obeyed.

Lila closed her eyes, cupped her breasts and began moving her hands back and forth over them. She imagined Manny’s strong hands replacing hers, rubbing them gently but with that Latin passion she adored. She imagined how he would smell lying beside her, the woodsy scent of his cologne blanketing her nose.

“Do you see me rubbing them for you?” Manny asked. She could hear the lust in his voice ooze through her phone’s receiver.

“Mm hmm,” She responded with breathy sighs. “And what are you doing for me?”

Manny licked his lips and unbuttoned the fly of his cotton printed boxers so that he could release his erection. When it was free, he could see the veins etched on his column. “Where do you want me to touch?”

“You know where.” Lila whispered.

“Aight.” He responded. “What you want me to do with it?”

“I’d like it in me,” she giggled, “but for now, just stroke it.”

“Can you do something else for me?” Manny asked while wrapping his hand around the head of his dick.

“Uh huh, what?”

“Take one of your hands and place it on your other soft lips.”

Lila smiled and then replied “OK.”

“Are you still rubbing your titties for me ma?” He asked as he began stroking his rod, paying close attention to the tip.

“Mm, yea,” She moaned. “Are you stroking him for me?”

“Absolutely,” He replied, tightening his grip with every moan and breathy sigh he heard on the other end of his phone.

“Tell me what he feels like.” She demanded.

Her fingers journeyed past her lips and glided toward her center, dipping them inside gently as her French manicured nails bathe in her juices. The sound of her moistness and her lusty movements replaced the silence in her red lit bedroom.

Manny placed his hand behind his head as he steadied a rhythm, his hands moving up and down his shaft, and simply replied “Hard.”

Lila moaned softly at the thought.

“Are you rubbing her for me?” He asked. Manny witnessed as the familiar clear sap formed at his tip and watched as it trickled down the mushroomed top.

“I am now.”

She used her index and middle finger to push gently on her clit and began to rub around it slowly picking up speed with every exhale she heard him make.

As her moans grew stronger, Manny began to stroke harder.

He imagined Lila on her knees hovering over his lower half, her hands placed on each of his sides on his black silk bedding, pushing him in and out. He imagined watching her as she played with him using just her tongue and the thought of all 7 inches vanishing behind her pink stained lips made him skip a breath.

He pictured her looking up at him as his dick grazed the roof of her mouth while tickling the back of her throat. She would conclude her performance with one of those playful winks she usually gave him whenever they glanced each other’s way in the shop.

“Damn ma, you sound so good,” He whispered.

Lila was so wrapped in the thought of bringing herself to her climax that she just nodded as if he could see her. She used her free hand to rub the mound of her breast.

“How does she taste?” Manny inquired. The head of his manhood began to swell at the thought of how sweet she tasted that night and how she melted in his hand like a life-sized M&M.

She brought her finger that she polished herself with up to her mouth and dabbed the juices on her lower lip before giving it a taste.

“Just how you like it,” she replied with a sly smile.

And all Manny could say was damn.

Lila felt that familiar feeling move from the center of her body to the corners of her mind and she began to moan uncontrollably. This feeling was strong requiring all of her attention and at that moment, nothing else mattered but coming.

Manny grew silent. His hands fell to his sides as he listened to Lila ease into her orgasm and he knew where he needed to be.

“Damn L. I wish I was there with you.” He whispered.

“I wish you were here too,” Lila moaned, cupping her breasts while her fingers were still at work.

“Cool, I’m on my way,” she heard Manny say just before hanging up.

THE END.