The Sweetest Taboo (9 page)

Yuri

         “Take off your clothes and leave ’em at the door,” Britt demanded.

As Yuri entered his loft the music immediately began to make love to her. She couldn’t help but drip with wetness as Britt stroked the keys of his grand piano like a jazz musician. She wanted to sing, but couldn’t think of what lyrics to contribute to such a melody; so instead she did as he said and began to undress as soon as she closed the front door.

The music traveled down the loft’s hall and filled the air. The acoustics in his place were wonderful and besides his king-sized bed that sat on a second-story platform and his metallic kitchen area, his loft was designed like a top-notch recording studio—equipped with keyboards, congos, two copper pans, and more. And Yuri loved being here. Here, she felt famous and confident, like she was that bitch to be fucking a man like this…she just didn’t want to be taken out of her element. After all, she and Britt shared a world built on Jeff’s time and cheating him out of moments.

A heavy rain had started to fall, so the loft appeared dark despite the floor-to-ceiling windows that dressed every part of the room.

Yuri could clearly see Britt sitting on his piano bench, his defined back facing her, and his ecru silk boxers complementing the deep mahogany of his skin.

The heels of her Burberry stilettos clapped against his hardwood floor as she sauntered like a naked top model to greet him.

Doing her best not to be nervous, Yuri slid in between the piano and the bench, so she would be in front of Britt. As he placed his forehead on her belly, she began to massage his neck while he French-kissed her navel and rubbed her thighs. He loved every inch of her. From her French-manicured toes to the crown of her head. He especially loved how she wasn’t skinny, but was just right. He could feel her in his arms when he held her, when he squeezed her and when his dick pounded in and out of her. He couldn’t wait to hear her call his name. Kissing her breasts he said, “When you cum I want you to sing my name from the pit of your stomach; scream it in such a melody that the fuckin’ windows feel to crack.” Placing his hands around her waist he sat her on top of the piano. As her heels hit the keys a lingering chime traveled throughout the room. “Lay down,” he whispered.

Yuri lay on the piano and felt Britt’s hands gliding up and down her middle, causing her clit to throb and her mind to wish he would just fuck it or suck it. But he needed to do something before the thought of it all caused her to cum. “Look up,” he said, pushing two of his fingers inside her.

Yuri looked up and saw the large, lit mirror above the piano. This was the first time she’d seen her new body in full view, all the other times she felt too self-conscious to stare at herself. “You see yourself?” Britt asked, now slipping his fingers out and running them across Yuri’s lips.

“Yes.”

“That’s who I want. Nobody else. Understand?”

“Why are we discussing that?”

“Because I see the fear on your face. And you get too emotional, too impulsive, and I want it to stop. My plans aren’t to hurt you. I’m feeling you…to say the least…but you got a husband and I’m in between. We both have to remember to play our positions, but as long as you’re honest with me, I’ll never leave you alone. I don’t give a damn about Jeff being at home.”

“I just get confused….” Yuri paused, she didn’t want to say anything that would make Britt think twice about them being together one day.

Before Yuri could go on, Britt massaged her breast. “Shh…no more confessions.”

“Britt—”

“Not now,” he whispered. “Shhhh…sit up a little.” Yuri did as she was told and her breasts were directly in Britt’s face. “I want you to suck your nipple with me.” Not sure exactly what to do, Yuri lifted her left D-cup breast and placed the nipple in her mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” Britt whispered. After watching for a few moments, Britt started to kiss Yuri’s other neglected breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue. Shortly after tantalizing her right nipple on his own, he worked his way over, slipped his tongue in Yuri’s mouth and after softly biting her tongue he worked his way around the hard and swollen nipple she sucked on, eventually stealing it away. Feeling Britt suck her breast was like a breath of fresh air; it was simple yet so serene, so natural yet so powerful.

Stroking his dreads she closed her eyes and began to imagine what they could one day be.

“Slide back,” Britt said, slipping her nipple from his mouth and twirling it between his thumb and index finger.

Yuri kept her eyes closed and slid back.

“Now open your eyes,” Britt continued, “and look at me.”

Yuri opened her eyes and Britt was now lying over her, dipping his fingers into her pussy, pulling out her erotic candy. “Taste it.” He stuck his fingers into her mouth.

“Uhmmm,” she moaned.

“You like to taste that pussy? That’s my pussy. My sweet, sweet pussy…” He took his fingers from her mouth and circled his fingertips across her clit. Placing his pussy-covered index finger back to her lips he demanded, “I want you to suck the candy off my dick.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” As Yuri turned him over and began to ride him, her pussy slapped generously across his thighs. The sound of her skin clapping against his drove Britt insane. As the nut began to rumble in his belly, he knew he couldn’t let her think she was working this scene—after all, he’d told her to sing his name, and she hadn’t called him once. So, he flipped her over, pulled her ass onto his shaft, and fucked her from the back wall of her pussy until he felt like the walls would collapse. “Don’t nut without singing my name,” he said, biting the back of her neck.

He felt her pelvis start to contract. “What the fuck I just say?”

“Britt,” she panted.

“That didn’t have a melody. I said sing the shit,” he said, as his scrotum slapped against her ass. “Sing it!”

“Britt…” she sang in a baritone, yet fighting the urge to scream.

“No! Sing that shit higher.”

“Britt…” she attempted in alto.

“Higher!”

“Britt…” Soprano.

“Higher…!”

“Britt…There’s a quiet storm…”

“I said sing that, sing that shit!”

“Britt!” she spat out like Patti LaBelle hitting her highest note. “And it never felt like this before….”

“That’s it, baby,” Britt moaned. “You there. Awwl shit.”

As Yuri sang, she could feel Britt’s nut dripping from her pussy and running down her thighs. “Turn over,” she told him.

He complied and now she lay on top, continuing to sing and kissing him on the forehead.

“Why you making me love you…?”

Yuri lifted the soft hairs on Britt’s chest with wet kisses, leaving a damp trail down to his dick. Working his eroticness into her mouth she could taste her pussy-made candy. The taste was bitter and the texture was sticky, but she would eat it a million times if he asked her to. Being that she wasn’t able to quite express how her heart felt, she traded off by providing him with the epitome of exotic pleasure. Pushing her thoughts of Jeff interfering and Troi stealing him out of her mind, Yuri licked and sucked with every blessing her mouth had to offer.

He did his best not to scream; massaging the back of her neck he sang, “…Every day is Christmas and every night is New Year’s Eve…”

“Yo,” Britt yelled into the bathroom, as Yuri stepped out of the shower. “What’s taking you so long?”

“What?” she yelled back, slipping on the pin-striped pajama button-up he gave her. She loved how his smell lingered in the collar. “Just so you know, my pussy is sore.” She walked out of the bathroom, her thick thighs fully exposed and the bottom of her ass cheeks bouncing graciously, flashing her silk panties.

Britt slapped her on the ass as she walked past him. He flashed a huge smile, showing all his teeth. “Come here and let me kiss it for you.”

Yuri walked over to him and expected him to laugh; in an effort to beat him to the punch she mushed him in his head. “You play too much.”

Ignoring her, Britt bent down, moved the seat of her panties and kissed her pussy. Yuri bit the inside of her cheek and did all she could to stop her mouth from confessing every bit of her love for him. “You’ll have a bitch kill you.”

He gave a sly smile, he knew she was hung up on his charm. “I can’t help it if I’m the shit.”

“Oh, you real caught up on your own sack right now. Is that why all we do is fuck?” She sat on the bar stool across from the cooktop where he was standing.

“And that’s an issue because…?” Britt opened his cabinet and placed his pressure pot on the lit stove.

“Well…” she stalled.

“Exactly; leave the shit alone.” He placed the goat meat he’d left marinating overnight in curry herbs and spices into the pot.

“Just one question.”

“What, Yuri?”

“So what’s different this go-round than the last time?”

“I appreciate you more.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you gotta big ass”—he laughed—“that’s why. Now, what I tell you about confessing? Leave that shit alone. Please.”

“Oh, I can’t stand you.” Yuri reached for the bottle of Rum Punch sitting on the counter in front of her and poured herself a glassful.

“Me?” Britt started to chop up fresh vegetables to make fried rice.

“Yes, you,” she said, as she walked over, jumped on the counter and watched him cook. As Yuri went to take a sip of her drink, Britt motioned for her to place the rim of her champagne glass to his lips so he could take a sip. After swallowing he said, “I want you to stop being so emotional.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you’re too jumpy. Just chill out and go with the flow: Let me be good to you and let you not expect anything to go wrong with it. Be a’ight with happiness.”

“You’re confusing me.” She did her best to muster a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want a commitment.”

“I didn’t say commitment. I said chill.”

“Well, how do you explain you asking me ‘why you making me love you’?”

“Look, don’t push. We’re good the way we are.”

“Uhmm hmm.”

“You know…you my man and shit, like my dude, we niggahs—”

“Okay—”

“Don’t cut me off—”

“Sorry.”

“Now, where was I?”

“You were just getting to ‘we’ve been friends forever,’” she said sarcastically.

“Exactly. See, we here.” He pointed to his chest and then to hers. “You know how we do—”

“Yeah, we chill.”

“Yup.” He took another sip of her drink. “We talk real shit. That’s why I say you my man.”

“Yeah, that’s me, a fuckin’ man.”

“Like I said, we good. If we start confessing too much, about how we really feel, it’s gon’ lead us to doin’ a buncha unnecessary shit.”

“Unnecessary shit?” Yuri said, caught off guard. “Like what?”

“Like we’ll start sweatin’ each other. Gettin’ mad and blowin’ up each other’s spots. And I’m not feeling that. So…we gon’ stick”—he placed his lips against hers—“to our original plan. Best friends with hidden benefits. Nothing extra.”

Instantly Yuri felt an iron fist begin to compete with the tears in her throat. Suddenly she was hustling like hell not to have her crushed feelings jump out and kick Britt’s selfish ass for being so stupid and not understanding that she would give it all up for him…. All he had to do was ask. “Best friends don’t ask me not to fuck my husband.”

“Can’t you do something else with this dude? Go to the movies. Read a book. Rent a Katt Williams tape and make him laugh. All I’m saying is don’t fuck his ass.”

“Anyway,” Yuri said as she jumped off the counter and sat down at Britt’s piano. “Enough of that.” She started to play around with the keys.

“Yo,” he said, happy she’d cut the conversation, “play something.”

“A’ight, let me see….” Quickly, Yuri thought of a tune and started to play.

“Oh, hell no,” Britt said removing his rice from the stove. “What the hell you playing the theme song to
Good Times
for?”

“Ahh haa!” Yuri laughed so hard that drool fell out the side of her mouth. “Okay, okay, a couple more, a couple more. Name this one.” She started to work her fingers across the keys.

“
The Jeffersons,
silly ass.”