Enticed (3 page)

Continuing, he went back to the sacred task of her breasts, working his way onto the areola but avoiding her nipple. He pulled back again, kissing her on the lips. Alana was going crazy. If this went on any longer she would go insane. Mark, being merciful, lapped at her nipples gently, going from one to the other and smoothly massaging them together to make suckling them easier. Alana’s breathing was desperate and heavy. Her only hope was that Mark would remove her pants, soon.

Slowly, he massaged her inner thigh. He bit her shoulder lightly and she jumped a bit, excited but aroused by the gesture. What would he do next? While he enjoyed her, and lightning bolts of pleasure exploded in her brain with every touch and kiss, she moved his hands along his thick arms, smelled his cologne mixed with the musk of his exciting arousal and glistening muscle. He was training her body, feeling her out, and he would soon dominate her completely, pulling her into his would spiritually even as he entered hers physically.

Alana lay back, sighing. It was almost time for him to begin. Her moans increased in intensity, bursting out of her reflexively as he caressed her groin over her pants. Mark could see her black lace panties begin to peak over the waist of her jeans in her writhing excitement. He couldn’t wait to love her orifices with his naked self, thrusting into th
em gently and roughly in turns.

Mark undid the top button of her jeans, and she rolled aside him to yank them off. They kissed as the denim fabric slid over her smooth, earthen curves. Mark got his own pants off in record time, unbuckling, unbuttoning, and yanking down in record time. Her mouth began to water as she kissed his chest sweetly.
Lightly following her hands down his abdomen.

She felt a hand rest on the back of her head, and knew without a doubt where her first stop would be as she traveled down. She pulled his underwear down, his pink
throbbing member beaconing her. Lightly, Alana’s tongue worked over his slit, making Mark moan in gratitude. A large, rough hand massaged the back of her head, running through her hair and suddenly grabbing a clump tight. Guiding her slowly, Mark guided Alana’s head gently onto his shaft, pushing down. They had a long night ahead, and he didn’t want it ending too early.

Alana’s satisfied hum reverberated down his succulent membe
r as she slurped up and down in a state of deep reverie. Mark gently pulled her off just before the twitches of climax started, pushing her onto her back.
My turn,
he thought with a grin.

Giving her stomach a light kiss, he moved down to her black lace underwear, hugging up into her crevice excellently. Mark kissed along the upper panty line - where the lace met her stomach just below her belly button. He kissed her risen mound just over her steaming pussy, ready now and always just for him. He pulled her underwear down slowly, kissing her skin as it was exposed, finally reaching her freshly shaved muffin and lapping her clit as it appeared over the black lace.

Alana was possessed,
undulating into his face while resting her hands on the back of Marks head, loving the passion and hunger with which he drank in her love honey and inhaled its natural perfume. He pushed her legs back over her chest to make plain her steaming passion spot. Raising himself, her planted kisses on her stunning raised legs as he lifted his nine inch domination, ready to plunge into her depths.

Mark laid his throbbing mast pole onto her willing port, making himself slick for the nights journey across a sea of passion and intimacy - one long overdue. Their eyes met. She was ready, scared but desperate to be filled.

“You’re shivering like a leaf my love,” he said, continuing to slide up and down the length of her petals.

“Please. Take me,” Alana gasped, nearly unable to respond at all.

“Don’t worry my love, I’ll quinch our thirst,” Mark spoke breathily, barely able to hold himself back now.

She was nearly gushing, and his cock moved up and down her soaked muffin lips easily and smoothly. The head of his member touched the mouth of her quivering ecstasy, gingerly rubbing the stops of them as he felt her out. Alana became silent, head arched back and eyes closed in anticipation.

Entry was a heated burst. Alana saw fireworks on the insides of her eyelids as Mark slipped into her.
I can’t fit him all,
she thought, as he his grunts, mixed with her joyous butterflied moans, expressing her need for him even as it expressed her worry that she couldn’t take him.

“You’re so big, I don’t know…”

“Trust me baby. I know you can do it.”

Mark slid more and more deeply into her. She cooed and shifted even as she felt her walls stretch under the pressure of his gentle thrust.
I’ll be ruined for any other man,
she thought.

“Oh, you feel so wonderful. You’re so hot and wet for me,” Mark grunted, thrusting in and
out  smoothly even as Alana’s open-mouthed face shifted from side to side even as her poor little pussy adjusted to Mark’s length with every thrust. His pace of his piston, slick with Alana, picked up as their bestial urges came to a head, and Mark came down to his hilt with every loving inward motion. She screamed for her life so much Mark was almost afraid he was hurting her, but Alana begged him not to stop. Lost in her, completely lost in her, he finished, climaxing deep inside. She felt his hot bursts and moaned sighs, contented.

The lay there in the minutes after, drifting to sleep naked on the blanket, folding half of it over them to keep them warm.
Alana slept in Mark’s large, perfect arms, feeling warmer and safer than she ever had, despite their exposure. Their night passed under the star sprinkled sky, the sounds of crickets and other nocturnal creatures cocooning them.

Chapter Three

The next morning Alana’s eyes cracked open, letting the rising sun in. Mark’s shoulder rose and fell softly with his breaths, and she smiled - nuzzling back into his arm. Later, when the sun began to rise in full force and the danger of fisherman arriving became more imminent, they decided to treat themselves to breakfast in town.

“I’m
gonna run back by Grandpop’s house and change. Pick you up in thirty?”

Alana agreed. She needed a shower and a change, herself. Mark drove back in his now wrinkled suit, whistling and humming out of tune. Life had looked pretty bleak when he’d gotten here, but he felt things turning around. This place had turned out to be just the thing the doctor -

He spotted her car parked in front of his grandfathers’ house. To see it here was to see two of his different worlds transposed, one infecting the other. In the gleaming light, the jaguar looked almost alien.
No. It can’t be.

He parked next to the vehicle and climbed the front porch stairs, heavy with what - or who - he knew he would find. Sure enough, he spotted her through one of the open curtained windows. In the kitchen already moving around, cooking, and making herself at home, was Tammy.

Alana practically danced through the halls of her aunt’s house. She raised the blinds and open the curtains on all the windows as she moved, feeling transcendent. Sure, all the old worries that came with sex attempted - once or twice - to push themselves into her mind (concerns about whether she should have after having seen him so soon and oh! what would her aunt think if she knew and God she let him finish inside and was this a one-time thing or was he really interested?) but she pushed them right back out, again. She wasn’t going to let anything,
anything,
take this moment and this feeling away from her. Tossing open her bag, she reached in for a cute little number that packed easily, a yellow sundress. She acquired a straw hat and sunshades from her aunt’s collection, and proceeded to lay them out on the guest room bed before starting her shower.

Running her
loofah and hands over her skin in the shower, she found herself wishing they were Mark’s hands.
Maybe next time,
she thought, smiling. Trying herself with a large towel, she moved to the phone to get the time and check for messages from Mark. She remembered a famous comedian making a joke about cell phones letting woman wait by the phone while on the go, and chuckled.
Just so true,
she thought. It was just before eleven and there was one text from Mark.

Hey. I’ve
gotta cancel breakfast this morning. I’m so sorry. Will call, later.

Alana froze. She reread the message four times, trying not to over react. It was just like every other message she’d gotten before being dumped. It was just like the messages she’d started getting from her husband before their divorce, after years of marriage. After only one
night, her oldest friend and newest lover had rejected her. This was record time. She sat on the bed, and held back tears, feeling stupid both for giving herself to Mark, and for crying about what should have been obvious.

Mark stood outside a few moments, thinking.
Well, looks like breakfast with Alana is out.
He could pick up the phone, make some witty remark and explain what was happening to Alana, but several things stopped him. First, Alana and he had just reconnected yesterday. He wanted to take some time and actually explore this, but they were at a fragile stage. If Alana found out that his ex-wife was in town, she might get it into her head that things weren’t resolved between them, that they still had feelings for each other. From Mark’s perspective, that simply wasn’t true.

The second reason was more subtle and had to do with the feeling in Mark’s gut when he had seen Tammy’s car. This was his place, a
holy ground of some of his most sacred memories of happy times. He felt like his essential nature was somehow bound to this small town, and in it lied the secret at the core of himself. It was a secret that he’d hidden from Tammy during all their years together, as he had never invited her here - though she knew about the place. In Mark’s defense, she’d never asked, and the small town wasn’t really her style anyway. It’d simply never come up.

But now, here she was, intruding into this place without notice or respect like two horny teenagers in a graveyard. Not only that, but she’d had the audacity to go stomping into his grandfather’s house
without permission. Mark calmed himself.
It’s alright. I’ll throw her out. Maybe even in time to catch Alana for brunch.

He strode confidently in, nearly slamming the door off of its hinges and not bothering to close it. After all, she’d be leaving out of it in just a second.
Mark strode confidently forward, his powerful mind concocting with all speed the most terrible and satisfying version of “get out and
stay
out” that it possibly could. If Tammy heard the slam she ignored it, continuing to cook in the kitchen, and only looking up when he arrived at the kitchen entrance at the end of the main hall.

“Hello dear. Breakfast will be ready in a moment,” she said, smiling. Mark found his charge losing momentum. There was something incredibly disarming about Tammy’s composure. She had smiled as if they were back in the city and he was coming home during a normal day of work. Except this wasn’t how it had been. He noticed she was cooking his favorite breakfast,
hash browns, eggs, toast, and bacon, and this shocked him on two levels: first, Tammy almost never cooked, and never exclusively for him and second, he hadn’t even known that she was aware of his favorite meal. And this was something else that made Tammy dangerous: she always picked up on the little truths revealed in the minutiae of information, sensing weak spots and advantages and exploiting them at exactly the right time. This time, it didn’t matter.

“Tammy. Get out of her RIGHT NOW,” Mark said, with somewhat less
rage than he’d originally intended.

“Alright honey,” she said, smiling sweetly. She took her apron off, kissed on the cheek, patted him on his crotch, and left. It was eleven
a.m., and Mark felt strongly that he needed a glass of bourbon to process what had just happened.

It took Mark three hours and two glasses of bourbon to finally figure out what had happened. Tammy had come in
, finding the key underneath the stone in front. When he’d arrived, she’d been sure not to react to him. This had thrown him off, first. Then, we he told her to leave she’d offered no resistance, never allowing his anger to gain purchase. Last, she’d patted him on the crotch. An act of possession, but also an action that - if he were honest about it - had aroused him slightly. Of course, out of curiosity, he’d sampled the food, eventually eating it all as the alcohol made him hungrier. It’d been delicious. He burst out laughing when he realized that, when he’d gone to look for the bourbon, it was sitting conveniently on the kitchen counter next to a lipstick stained glass with a few drops of it left. Which would make perfect sense…except that Tammy hated bourbon. Had she planned the whole thing, or did she merely work off of instinct? One thing was clear, and that was that he was right to marry her in the sense that she was a magnificent woman. He had gained great joy, over the years, from seeing Tammy - an African American woman - use people and society’s underestimations of her against them. Realizing two of the defining relationships in his life were with black women, he wondered if there was some relationship between them. Sure, physically Alana and Tammy were similar, and years of watching Alana during swimsuit summers with tank tops and knee length dresses had left an impression on Mark. On the other hand, it seemed their similarities ended there. Alana was less contrived and more natural, a facet of her personality Mark was pleased had survived the years. Tammy was cunning and ruthless, burning bright with ambition and confident in what she wanted - at least at any given moment. She was a genius in a certain sense, and dangerous. Worse, it seemed that, for one reason or another, she wasn’t done with Mark.

Mark checked his phone. It was a little after three.
Still not too late to grab lunch with Alana. He wondered if he was upset with her. He’d cancelled without any explanation on the day after they’d been intimate together. There was no way around it. He needed to give her some sort of explanation. Mark didn’t want to lie to Alana, but neither did he want tell her what was happening. He picked up his phone and called her.