“Whatever you want,” Courtney said, grasping her thin belt between her fingers and pulling it loose from her waist. “Whatever you make me give you,” she went on, dropping the belt on the floor and reaching under her shirt. My breath caught in my throat as she pulled her blouse over her shoulders and stretched it over her arms. Her jet black hair slipped from the loosened neck. The black bra that clutched possessively to her chest was nearly the exact shade of her hair. She reached behind herself, her elbows sticking out and then springing back around as she effortlessly unhooked the snap and slipped the straps over her mocha shoulders. “I’ll tell Tara,” she said. She wrinkled her nose as she shrugged the bra off her breasts. It dropped carelessly to the kitchen floor.
The bra lay at her feet. Her fists were balled at her hips. She squared her shoulders and leaned back, her chocolate areolas tilted up to the window and her beautiful abdomen bare from the waist up. “You want me to suck you?” she intoned, arching an eyebrow. “You want to fuck these tits again?”
I smiled.
She sneered. “Sure you do. I’ll tell Tara everything. I’ll tell her everything. I don’t care if you do give me the money.”
“Oh you’ll get the money,” I said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take off the skirt.”
Courtney bent down and unzipped herself. She carefully stepped out of her skirt, still wearing her heels, drawing one knee and then the other up and over the fabric. She let it, like the bra before it, drop unceremoniously to the floor.
She wasn’t wearing panties. Courtney’s dark, curly pubic hairs glistened in a trimmed tuft between her naked thighs. The light from the kitchen glanced across her flat stomach and made her skin glow. She stood proudly, arms akimbo, legs lean and toned, open heels tapping at the floor. “How badly do you want to fuck me?” she asked.
I swallowed. “Turn around.”
She did so. She pivoted in place slowly, giving me time to watch the way her muscles moved underneath her skin, the way her bottom flexed and rippled between the small of her back and her taut calves.
“Take the heels off,” I said.
She bent over, affording me an unobstructed view of her naked ass. I saw where her pubic hair wound its way up her middle, where it nested in the cleft of her cheeks. I heard her heels clatter over the floor and watched her stand up again, her legs suddenly less defined, her height reduced by two or three inches. She was completely naked, brown and hot as baked lightning.
“Get in the shower,” I said. Her big eyes seemed to observe me from somewhere inside herself. Her mouth set in a firm line and she gently turned her head, her body following and padding rhythmically to the bathroom. I followed her as if I were invisible and she were traipsing alone through her own apartment. As we passed through the threshold together she grasped the door and turned back.
“I’m going to tell her,” she said.
I was dumbstruck by her lips. They were always hard, always curving down, always dark, twisted away. Now they were lighter, without anything to harden them, suddenly soft and without guile. I traced the line of her brown neck down to her drooping, paler breasts. My eyes found their way back to her face.
“Get into the shower and soap yourself.”
“My tits, right?”
I nodded.
“You don’t care if I get my hair wet?” She rolled her eyes. “Right. How stupid of me.” I watched her ass wiggle as she stepped over our fluffy bath mat and bent down to twist the H knob. “Are you going to take your clothes off?” she asked without looking back.
I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it in the sink. I whipped off my belt and struggled with my zipper. By the time I’d pulled my socks off Courtney was standing in the shower running her fingers through her dark hair and frowning into the spray. She mushed her lips together and blew out the water that mixed with her mascara and dripped down her face. She wiped at her cheeks a few times until she’d cleaned her face and then reached for the soap. A generous blue glop of body wash squirted into her hands and she began to soap her tits, making sure she drew her fingers up her ribs and tightly scooped at her bosom the way boys like to see. She massaged her nipples until they were pointing majestically into the cascade. For a moment she held herself and glanced over at me, specifically my dick. She watched it hover over my aching balls as if hypnotized by her moistened hips.
“I guess I should thank you for not making me spit this time.”
I closed the door behind me and moved in. Courtney watched me apprhensively and drew back to the far side of the shower. I joined her, standing with my back to the spray. “Can you get on your knees?” I asked. My dick was throbbing. My heart had fallen down my ribcage and landed splat inside my balls. It was now pumping a hard, fluid heat throughout the veins in my cock. Courtney looked worriedly at my dick, her hands drawn up over her breasts (making her slender fingers look small on her tender red chest) and glanced down at the bath mat. “I don’t want you to hurt your knees,” I said.
“Gee, thanks.” She glared at me as she tilted her neck up. The bathroom was getting good and misty now and Courtney reached for the rim of the tub as she set herself down in front of me.
“Is it alright?”
“Just put your dick between my tits and let’s go,” she said. I did as I was told. Except I had to sit on the edge of the tub to make it work and not slip. I reached behind myself and braced against the toilet bowl. Courtney leaned forward and slipped my shaft up through her breasts and heaven kissed my cock with buttered sunshine. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the overpowering patter of water and humping my hips forward as Courtney squeezed her breasts together over my cock head and stroked me up and down against her soapy skin. “Is it worth it?” I heard her say under the spray.
“Yes,” I said. I opened my eyes. Courtney had to shut her eyes against the downpour of the water. To keep water from slipping up her nose she had to open her mouth. So Courtney was blindly fucking my dick with her tits, mouth open, water streaming down her cheeks, lips and chin and splattering off her eyelashes and bouncing against my chest. I leaned forward and slipped my lips over her wet mouth. Courtney jerked back.
“No,” she said. I reached down and sifted through the glossy hair of her vagina. Instinctively I found her clit and watched an uncomfortable shudder wrack her body. “No,” she said again.
“How much no?” I asked.
“No, no,” she replied. My index finger glided over the entrance of her vagina and she leaned back further. She kept trying to open her eyes under the spray of water but was deluged every time.
“Stand up,” I said. We stood up together. I helped her out of the tub and made her kneel on the carpet. Wet and shining under the bathroom light, she put her hand on the bathroom counter and softly went to her knees. She took her tits in her hands and presented them to me with her lips curled to the side.
“Bend over,” I said.
Courtney was flushed, confused. Her black hair was plastered to her forehead and clung to her shoulders and back. “What?”
“Tara said you don’t mind a backdoor man.”
She stared at me for a solid second uncomprehending and then suddenly her eyes went wide. “Oh that bitch…”
I put a finger to my lips. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” I smiled and drew a hand over her wet shoulder. “Will you bend over for me, Courtney?”
“No,” she said, “there’s no way…”
“I’ll be very, very gentle.”
Courtney’s neck seemed to swing on a hinge. “No you fucking won’t.”
I decided to level with her. “I want to fuck your ass. Now.”
Courtney guffawed (I know it’s a ridiculous word but it is the closest to the sound she made). “I bet you fucking do! You want to fuck my tits, you want to cum in my mouth, you want to fuck my ass! You just want it all, don’t you?”
I held her gaze.
“Never,” she said firmly. I leaned forward and kissed her neck. She shoved her fists against me. “Never,” she said. I kissed down her neck, sucking at the water that collected in her clavicle. I held her hands back, thrilled at the feeling of her nipples swiping against my chest. I squeezed my arms around her and slid my hands down her ass, clutching at her cheeks. Courtney had to push her arms under my armpits to get around me and beat at my back. I easily pulled my left arm back and felt down her abdomen to her curly hairs. The shower roared and filled the bathroom with still more fog and Courtney and I silently struggled as I rolled beads of water across the soapy surface of her clitoris. “Ever…” she groaned, her body convulsing forward, instinctively attuned to the massage of her privates.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. I sent an exploratory ring finger along the edge of her labia and dipped my middle finger inside of her. I rolled the tip of my finger along the inner front of her vagina, searching for her spot, wondering if it was possible to find it with so much hate firing back at me. “Yes,” she grunted again, leaning against me and sinking her teeth into my neck. Suddenly she gasped as I swung my middle and ring finger along the fleshy inside of her slit. “Do you know how-?” she stammered.
“How what?”
“To… to put it in…?” I continued rolling along the inside of her pussy, my thumb gently slipped against her clit. I felt her breasts relax against my chest.
“I do.”
“Do you have the money?”
“I do.”
“This is the last,” she said. “You have to give me the money.”
“Bend over.”
“Promise me.”