Finish Me (2 page)

“Whatever you've got,” said Matt. “I'm not too particular.”

“If you have any beer...” said Dave.

“Certainly,” said the woman. She turned and Matt again saw the muscles of her ass, this time accentuated by the fabric of her dress. She looked firm. She walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out two brown bottles and returning to Matt and Dave.

“They're twist-off,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Dave. “And I'm sorry, I never introduced myself.”

“That's fine Dave, I know who you are. And Matt,” she said.

Matt looked toward Dave, puzzled.

“Name-tags,” she said. “You were both wearing name-tags earlier today. And I always remember who my dinner guests are. I'm Veronica. But you can call me Aunt Veronica.”

“That seems a little kinky,” said Matt. “Even if there is no relation.”

“Oh, I'd say we haven't even started with kinky,” she said,winking. “Please, have a seat, the couch is over there. I'm going to start the meat. How do you like your steaks?”

Matt and Dave both walked to the couch and sat down.

“Medium rare is my preference,” said Dave.

“I'll take the same,” said Matt.

“Very well, then,” she said. She paused for a moment then smiled. “Aren't you both the pair sitting on the couch with your matching beers and preference for medium rare steak.”

She walked into the kitchen. Matt and Dave looked at one another while she was out of earshot.

“This feels kind of gay, man,” said Matt. “I know we work together, but this whole sharing a couch thing, I don't know.”

“Pussy,” said Dave.

“Yeah, I do prefer pussy, but come on, this is getting a little weird. I mean, Aunt Veronica, who we just met four hours ago, I should remind you, is plying us with liquor and red meat, and you don't seem the least bit concerned about where this might lead.”

“Do I detect a note of hesitation?” said Dave.

“Yeah, I'd say there's a note of it all right. There's a whole fucking Skynard guitar solo worth of hesitation. Come on, let's bounce before this thing goes any further.”

“I like the reference to the guitar solo, but Skynard?” said Dave. “Couldn't you have gone with another one of those musicians that white people like, someone with a bit more talent, like Jack White?”

“I didn't realize you were versed in the ways of the disaffected white person's music,” said Matt.

“And I didn't realize you were such an ignorant cracker,” said Dave, smiling. “Just because I drive a pimped out Caddy and have a 10 inch black cock doesn't make me a devotee of Snoop.”

“Well done to slipping in the reference to how massive your cock is,” said Matt.

“Thank you, I try,” said Dave.

They could smell the meat cooking in the kitchen. Veronica had slapped it into the pan and the oil made a loud sizzle. She walked back into the living room, still holding her drink.

“Boys,” she said. “I have to ask you a few questions.”

“Is this for credit, or practice?” said Dave.

“That depends on your answer,” she said. “Dave, I'll start with you. If you were going to make love to a woman, such as myself, what would be the first thing you would do?”

Dave scratched his chin and looked up, as though he needed some divine inspiration to think of the response to a question that was so basic that it required no explanation. But it was all for show, you see, and Dave knew that, as did this stranger who preferred to be called Aunt Veronica.

“I like to take my sweet time when I'm loving a lady,” said Dave.

“Tell me how you'd do it, Dave,” she said. “How would you do me?”

“I'd put on some music, for one, something mellow and sexy. Then I'd walk over to you real close, like, and I'd stand so close that you could feel my breath against the side of your face. And then I'd nibble your ear, just so, and you'd hunch your shoulder up and expose your neck on the other side and I'd kiss it until you started to moan.”

“Show me,” she said.

Matt watched from the couch.

“Come on, show me,” she said again.

Dave walked toward her till he stood close. Standing next to her you could see the contrast of her slenderness to his muscular bulk. Dave was not a small man by any means. He placed a hand on her arm and pulled her closer to him, until their noses almost touched, and Matt could see that her eyes closed as she kissed Dave. His mouth nibbled on her ear and he kissed her on the exposed side of her neck, as he'd promised, and Matt could hear a low note of pleasure from her.

“Hey Dave, you finished being Don Juan, cause I'm getting hungry,” said Matt.

“Matt is right,” said Aunt Veronica. “We can't forget the steaks.”

She went back into the kitchen and flipped the steaks. She pressed a finger into the top surface of the meat, feeling its tenderness as a proxy for doneness. It was something she'd practiced countless times.

“We have another minute until the meat is done, boys,” she said.

As she walked back into the living room, she spoke. “Matt, tell me how you would do me.”

Matt felt bolder. As though the only way out of the situation was to become master of it. To embrace it.

“I can't say I've got the same style as Dave here, but you'd be begging me for more after I got you on all fours.”

“Mmm...I like that,” she said. “You like to talk dirty, don't you?”

Matt felt a primal urge to continue. She had aroused in him that instinct to possess her, to defile her and make her both terrible and beautiful at once.

“No offense, but I'm not just talk,” he said. “I prefer action to words.”

Veronica walked to Matt and turned her back to him. He felt her press herself into him, her ass grinding against his crotch, awakening a devil inside him. He reached for her hips and pulled her in tight. Her fingers reached for her hair and she let it flow downward in a lazy river of silver and grey.

“Yes, you are one fine piece,” said Matt.

She turned her neck toward him. “I know. It doesn't come easy, keeping myself like this.”

“You do a fine job of it,” said Matt, pulling her against him.

“The meat,” she said. “I can't forget it. I'll be back. Promise.”

She separated from Matt and walked to the kitchen once more, this time with an urgent step. She pulled the steaks off the pan and put them on a plate, allowing the meat to rest and become evenly saturated with its juices before consumption.

“I don't know about you boys, but I'm ready for an appetizer,” she said from the kitchen. “Who's hungry?”

“I could use a little taste of something,” said Dave.

“Good,” she said.

She walked into the living room. There was a dark glimmer in her eyes. She stopped and gestured for them to come closer.

Matt and Dave walked toward her till they were within her arm's reach.

“You know the best part about being Aunt Veronica,” she said, referring to herself in the third person, as though Aunt Veronica were permitted to perform some acts deemed unnatural by her normal self.

“What's that?” said Dave.

“I get to do this,” she said. “Come on, unzip, both of you. Chop chop.”

They looked at her and understood, creating dark openings with their fallen zippers. She moved her hands to both of them and wrapped her fingers around the two bundles of bulging flesh, exposing and tugging, sliding and squeezing in a way that only she knew how, a way shaped by time and experience.

“I've got lots of practice,” she said. “I've had all kinds. I know how to treat a cock right.”

“And my, you haven't disappointed,” she told Dave, her hand feeling his dark girth. “I'll put this one to good use.”

“Glad to be of service, ma'am,” said Dave.

As she fondled Matt's cock, she could feel that his was not as large as Dave's, but she was wise enough to know that physical size counted far less than most men thought. It took more to please her than just some piece of meat thrusting in and out of her cunt. She wanted to break boundaries. And that moment, with both of those young men, would suit her purpose just fine, she thought.

“And you,” she said, turning to Matt. “If you know how to fuck half as dirty as you can talk, I think I'm in for a treat.”

“I'll do my best,” said Matt.

She continued to stroke them, her long fingers wrapped around them, feeling the pulsing and the heat, the small thrusts that they made toward her. She increased her tempo, working them into a state just short of erotic agony.

“You know,” she said, “feeling these two fresh young cocks in my hand right now, it makes me feel like I'm 25 again. You boys can't be much older than that, now, can you?”

“No, not by much,” laughed Dave. He arched his head upward and closed his eyes. “That's right baby, you have the magic touch.”

Matt looked down at the hand she had wrapped around him, watched how she held her grip and shifted it in subtle ways, as though she had an awareness of the complexity of the male anatomy, that organ which had been so maligned and simplified in popular culture but really possessed a multitude of quirks, special places where a touch sent a shiver, then a jolt, through the loins of a man. She had the awareness, he thought. Her silver and gray hair moved with a rhythmic pulsing against her shoulders.

Aunt Veronica. She had a sexy determination that thrilled both of the men she possessed in front of her.

“That's right Aunt Veronica, you keep on stroking,” said Dave.

'You boys enjoy this,” she said. She licked her lips.

She knelt down, still holding both of them, and moved her lips to Dave's cock, taking it in her mouth for a few strokes. Then her lips moved to Matt, swallowing him to the back of her throat, doing something most exquisite with her tongue along the way. She continued in this way, stroking, sucking, dancing, swallowing, until both Matt and Dave began to let out louder moans of appreciation.

“I do think this is the most fucked up thing I've ever done,” said Matt.

“That's music to my ears, Matt,” she said, between mouthfuls of cock.

“Yeah, well, I can't say I'm not enjoying it. You suck a mean cock Aunt Veronica,” said Matt.

“Yessir, you are one dirty momma,” said Dave. “And a highly skilled one at that. Black and white at the same time, like you've done it before.”

“We're not finished yet, boys,” she said. “I still need to know how you feel inside me. I haven't had a good fuck in far too long.”

She slid out of her cocktail dress, exposing her black lingerie. Her breasts and ass still firm. Her legs lithe, sculpted. Matt couldn't believe that she was older than his mother.

“Dave, I need you to lie down on that couch. And take those pants off,” she said.

Dave moved to the couch, pulling down his pants as he was told. They fell to a heap on the floor. He removed his boxer shorts and eased his muscular blackness onto the couch. He had a contented smile on his face, as though this were the most natural situation in the world for him. For Dave, Aunt Veronica represented a beauty that he felt compelled to acknowledge, and the most sacred way to do so was to offer up himself as a token of appreciation. His cock rose into the air above him, the empty space around it a field of anticipation.