Fucking for Sport: A Thought

I wrote this on my tumblr page and felt the need to share it with my passionate fruit-eaters. I wonder this all of the time, but decided to put it out there early in the morning. Check it out:

Click to enlarge

So...as you can see. I was just wondering.

What do you think?

Elle's Tales: From the Pen of Qualiq

From the pen of Qualiq:

I haven’t been able to get that night with Lillianna out of my head. When we were younger, I couldn't have imagined that I’d have my dick in that. I had and still have extreme respect for her...she’s one of those women who gives you no choice. That night, though?...gave me chills. The softness of her skin...silkier than any woman’s I’d touched before. The plump fullness and natural warmth of her thighs ...her ass in my hands...damn. The way the hardness of her nipples contrasted with the round plushness of her breasts still make my dick drip at night. Elle tasted like a mix between sweet papaya and mango...her creaminess a perfect smoothie of her scent. I jacked off to her lips on my dick and her hair in my nose for days after she’d gone home.

Problem with this is...I can’t contact her. Asking the ‘rents is out. Rev & Mrs. Thorne are too keen for them to not know what I’d want. I've never asked about her before...or maybe I’m putting too much thought into it. I crave this woman so much right now that I’m sitting here consequently running fears of rejection from her parents through my mind. I want this woman on my lap with the intense urgency of a teen virgin...and I can’t even muster the balls to walk next door and ask her mother for the number...

...to some of the best sex I've had in a very long time. I wanna say it’s the way her juiciness spilled over down to my sac...or the perfect fit and suction of our motions. I can’t lie though...I think it’s the scent of her neck and how she smiles. How she leans her head to the side as she laughs. Her lip crooks when she’s fidgeting and I could see how intense our chemistry was while we sat at the table with her family. I spent one day with her and I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop needing to make love to her. I always had a slight crush on her, but all I can think of is when is the next time she’ll come home...to me.

Her brother and I went to school together and I remember when we were younger, he used to always say, “Yo, Qua...watch out for Elle. Don’t let nobody hurt my baby sister.” He said this again on his way to college...leaving a year before I did. I didn't want anyone to touch her...but me. Yet, she was so into that dude Omar I just let her be. When they broke up I heard rumors of her being a slut, but I paid them no mind. Even if she did what they said...I didn't care. Lilliana was one of those girls that she could do no wrong. She could cuss you out publicly and you’d call her that night and apologize for making her do it. Again...more feelings I couldn't express to her.

So, how and why did we do what we did? How is it that after years of bypassing me and me holding in my carnal thoughts of her...did we end up fucking like that in my place? What did I do specifically to land myself dick deep into my adolescent fantasy? Had she always liked me?

I just know...that I want her. I don’t know where she lives. I have no phone number. Nothing. All I have is olfactory memories...phantom strokes of me inside of her. I think I may need to just forget her.

~bell chimes at the Thorne residence~
*Mrs. Thorne opens the door for her neighbor*

“Hi, Mrs. Thorne...I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
“Sure, Qualiq...come in...”

To Be Cont’d...

Elle's Tales: Cody

{Cody, 30, Nashville, TN}

The pressure of bouncing was beginning to make my knees ache, but the throbbing in my clit was dangerously swelling to a nut. The adrenaline kept me stroking this man's dick as I got the wettest I can remember getting. His lightly tanned skin was sparkling in the light from the window and I saw his eyes roll back, him clench down on his lip and his thickness pulse. I imagine...if you could SEE the nut bust through the head of his dick it would look like bulges pumping with rhythmic succession until it splattered the inside of the magnum he was wearing. "SHIT, Elle......your snatch is SO wet! Uuggh..." Cody grunted out in his thick southern accent. As drips of liquid fever slowly streamed down my face and breast...my smirk became my fuck face and I came in creamy stickiness all over him. Together...we exhaled long and I fell on top of him with our sweaty bodies smacking loudly. My abs HAD to be improving with the work I'd done on this white boy in the last week.

My FIRST white boy. OMG...his dick is HUGE. His appetite is LARGER and good grief he can eat pussy like Pooh licks the bottom of a hunny pot. This white boy's swagger is NOT like swagger I'm used to. This is some straight-out-of-the-western-movies type shit. All he's missing is the cowboy hat and the strand of straw hanging from his perfectly lined teeth.

I lift and remove him from inside of me and SHIT...after the pleasure is gone, my little hole reminds me of how big he is. I wobble to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I walk back into the room naked from head to toe, standing in the window's light and you know what this dude says?

"Lady, your body looks like those paintings...the ones in Europe. Ruben somebody....but either way...it's made for hugging and fucking..."

I didn't know whether to laugh at his almost adorableness...or be insulted by his brash statement that I was just physical fulfillment. Either way, this man was intrigued by the "Rubenesque" curves of my body and he inhaled them like he was taking in his last breath. I loved chilling with this man all week, but tonight was our last "run-through". He had fucked me motionless and I'd rode him until the mattress coils were fully compromised with my knee prints. All that was missing was a matching print of my tits, my name and a star.

"Thank you, Cody baby...you're too sweet. Do you want to join me in the shower?" I asked. He jumped up...that gorgeous pipe, swinging and followed me into the shower. I don't really share showers with men. It seems intimate to me...but with Cody the shower is fun. There's no kissing and cuddling...just him washing, licking, re-washing and re-tasting until my skin had pruned and his skin had been scrubbed til it had reddened. This man had me "under arrest" against the shower, barely stable from the soapy water rippling through our feet...sucking me slip and slide style while my pussy begged for more. Face, breast and hands pressed up against the shower door as he damn near lifted me off my feet with each suck. I was licking frosted glass because it was so good!

I can’t express enough the fact that my job has MANY perks. I find that I’m almost always enjoying a trip or vacation of some kind on little to no funds of my own. I can afford to travel, but I never have to worry about doing so. When the boss asks me to consult, confirm and close...I do so, at the company’s expense. I’m one of their best and I’m also one of their most-loved reps. The clients love me and request my presence as a preference. Having said that...all I came to Nashville for was to consult with a client at her home, attend a few galas, and enjoy a few hoe downs. Well...I guess, I did in a way. Jacqueline Hunter with her typical big hair and signature [albeit, designer] cowgirl boots...wanted me to enjoy a week at her massive ranch-style mansion and enjoy the stables, grounds and luxury amenities at her expense. It was a gorgeous home and I enjoyed my stay. She was a gracious hostess and made sure that anything I wanted, I got. What she didn't expect was for me to help myself to her husband’s nephew. Cody had sashayed in wearing chaps and a cowboy hat and at first glance I chuckled. Some people REALLY DID live this country life. A farm full of cows, chickens, goats, pigs, horses, and such aren't pictures in a book. They were right in front of me...the sounds, the smells...and this very handsome white boy giving me Urban Cowgirl dreams.

The first time Cody and I spent time together was when Jacqueline’s husband, Roger invited me to come ride with the family. They picked a horse for me, saddled it and made sure I had the appropriate gear to wear. I was nervous. I cracked jokes about how strong the horse needed to be. How he probably hadn't been used to big girls with brown skin. Jacqueline and Roger assured me that it had less to do with that and everything to do with matching the horse’s calm spirit and allowing him to lead me with my own timely but gentle steering. I learned on that trip to not self deprecate for laughs. In different settings it comes off as being uncultured, and others find themselves cringing in embarrassment by your own insecure feelings. I learned to let go and be Elle.

As we were leaving the stables, I spotted Cody...spotting me. He’d been lovingly stroking the mane of beautiful mare and had made eye contact with me. As my horse, “Sunflower” trotted away...I smiled at him sweetly and went on my way.

After an hour of riding and sightseeing, we returned to the stables. Before I could join Jacqueline and the rest of her children going back to the house...Cody cleared his throat and spoke. “*ahem*...Hi there, ma’am. I just wanted to tell you that you are so darn beautiful. Your skin is so smooth looking...” he uttered shyly. I smiled and said, “Why thank you...and your name is?” He smiled widely and I saw the whitest, straightest teeth and noticed that he had full lips. He was something like a Channing Tatum clone, but with curly blonde hair. “...Cody. Cody Graham. Nice to meet you...and your name is?” “Oh! I’m Elle. E-L-L-E...” I said as I extended mine to meet the one seemingly frozen in mid-air. “Like the magazine?” he asked. “Yes...just like that.”

HOW I ended up bent over grabbing my ankles for support while he fucked me country-style behind the stables and a towering shield of hay bales...was beyond me.  “Oh shit...oh wait, no, hold on...oooh yeaaa...oh what the hell are you fucking me with?” He was so big. I was running and he was pulling me back by gathering the hem of my flowing top, which was beginning to choke me. I felt light-headed as he was pounding into me but was helpless to do anything. My pussy was soaked and I could feel the coolness of the breeze on my wet thighs. “Oh GOD...DAMN!” he said repeatedly. He must have felt my top beginning to give way and that’s when he released it and grabbed my waist. His hands were gripping my waist and pulling me in and out...I felt like a rag doll. He released his tensions into me and as he felt me come with him in a violent shake of my lower half, he reached around and pressed down firmly on my clit. When he let me go and I stood up, my back felt broken. I stumbled and he caught me. He giggled a little and asked, “Are you okay, Elle?” I looked at him with blurred vision and said, “Fuck yea...”

That began the week long fuck fest between Cody and I. I was shocked when that man took my orgasm to the next level with his tongue on the third night of my stay. This happened the night after  we first had sex.

I was in my room (thank God that Jacqueline had the genius of mind to give me a room in a separate wing of her home for my privacy). I had just had dinner with the family and decided to go and do some last minute business stuff. I had to conference with my boss Peter and his boss Amelia. We sat on the three-way for about 20 minutes with a summary of how things had gone at the meeting with Jacqueline the first day I got here. I ALWAYS make the initial meeting with my clients on the first day of my arrival so as to get the business out of the way. We tie up loose ends and use whatever time left in my visit to enjoy the scenery. In all truth...most times, I just come home. Anyway, there I am...newly showered after all the business fuss is over. I’m nodding slightly after trying to text Collette back...when there’s a knock at the French doors. I jumped out of my sleep immediately and threw on my robe. I looked past the thick drapery and saw Cody’s smiling face. I unlocked and opened the door and greeted him all while feeling to see how unkempt my hair might be. “You don’t have to worry, Elle...you look like an angel...” he said as he eyed my sleepwear underneath my open robe. I had on a long tank, that really only stopped at the top of my thighs...I had no panties on. He walked straight over to the room’s door and locked it. Cody then turned around and winked at me. I clutched my robe closed almost as if I was afraid of what came next. He sat down in the chair next to mine facing the plasma television mounted on the wall. I sat silently waiting for him to speak. He didn't. Instead, he fell to his knees out of the chair and crawled the short distance between the two seats to me. The look Cody gave me when he slid his frame between my knees was one of asking. His eyes asked me could he be there and I answered by parting them. He ran his hands back and forth over my skin from knee to thigh and said in the sweetest accent, “Geez, you’re soft...I’m about to bust wide open from the way your skin feels, Elle...” I blushed and moaned. He was turning me on and he’d done nothing more than caress me. His hands moved underneath my knees and he pulled me forward which made my tank rise above my waist. He removed my robe and threw it over the other chair. He placed his hands underneath my tank and massaged my breasts. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and opened my legs wider. Not taking his hands from my nipples, now between his fingers...his tongue landed in my navel.  I felt wetness form between my lips instantly.  He trailed his tongue from my navel to my dripping space and began to paint my pussy with it. He’d lap the pearl of my sweetness and then spread it up and down with his mouth. I  wriggled in place as he softly kissed and tugged at my swollen labia. His tongue...thick, warm, wet and something like a fine instrument...went from dipping in and out of me, to licking me clean and sucking me motionless. When he finally went in on my clit, relentlessly sucking, flicking the tip of his tongue on it, with his thumb in my ass and his index finger in my pussy...I lost it.  I wanted him there and then I didn't...I fought him and pulled him in. I clamped down on his ears and spread my wings as far as I could. While he continued twisting my nipples and strumming them like guitar strings...I let out a wail that could’ve woken the dead. I covered my own mouth and continued to quake on his jaw until I was exhausted from the pleasure.

Once he'd freed himself from my hold and sat back on the floor on his elbows, licking his lips he said, “I like how soft you are...” He said this a lot during my stay. “... you've got the prettiest snatch I’ve seen...ever. Can I take a picture of it?” His request threw me off. Why, I don’t know. “Yes...” I said. I opened up my glory and he pulled out his cellphone. He snapped the pic and thanked me. Then without a word...he took out his dick, then a condom, opened the condom, placed it on and kissed my lower lips long once more. He slid himself into me and I winced...relaxed and closed my eyes again. He fucked me right in that position as I dripped excessively. Oh, DAMN did I get wet with his tool between my legs.

...and that’s how we spent every night afterwards until I left for home. Riding a cowboy.

{Cody in Nashville. 30yrs old. 10” dick. 5 out of 5 kisses + 5 out of 5 licks.

What The Internet Taught Me

The pic that got me into inbox trouble recently

I was kicking around my kitchen this morning...making pancakes and coffee. As usual, this is when my mind starts clicking...well, my mind is ALWAYS clicking...but, there are triggers for moments when I get my best ideas. Showering is one (I talk in the shower, shhh don't tell nobody). Walking is another. I KNOW someone has looked at me and prayed to God I had a Bluetooth piece in my ear. lol ...the others are cooking and cleaning. Today it was both...

As I washed dishes to prepare my breakfast...it hit me out of nowhere. Meaning...before this thought, there was no provocation for me to be in thought about love and relationships. It's the fault of my Ascendant's influence...that dang planet Uranus with it's flashes of ideas and inspiration.

I realized that back when I first made my entry onto the Internet...it was about 2001. I was in the tail-end of a relationship that was emotionally, verbally, mentally...abusive all around. I was home with family by 2002. In 2001...I did the basics. I researched fun things, educational things, trivia and facts. I interacted in the occasional chat room, but mostly just IM with family and friends. My TRUE entry into the social media scene was around 2004/2005. I began interacting with people via AOL...and then eventually, MySpace.

MySpace...the place where I learned how to post graphics on people's pages in lieu of greetings. The place where I learned about relationship drama. The place where I learned to "blog" in the way of posting my thoughts. Then there was Yahoo 360...a now defunct social site that truly brought out the blogger in me. It's where I shared my poetry, my feelings, where I began writing erotica and where I fell in love. By then...it was 2006 and I'd already experienced an Internet loon...who was being two people. One with me and one with my own sister. At some point, he became harassing and we even wondered if he was as far away as he said he was. ::shivers::

I began mixing my pancake batter. I'd already begun making my coffee and the griddle was heating. I was whisking and talking aloud. "That is where I learned to share myself blindly...no thought process as to whether the person was trustworthy. Just e-sharing myself with potential lunatics..."

I began to see a lot of what has become commonplace in this age of fast and blind information. I saw how even though the Internet has played Cupid successfully, and even brought people their best friends and reunions with long-lost family...it's flip side is dark and precarious.

I realized that because "meeting" someone has changed from bumping into them in the store...to bypassing someone in conversation on a mutual friend's Facebook page...we're disconnected. Even while connecting...we're disconnected. We're desensitized to the concept of intimacy and tangibility. Tangibility, believe it or not is a factor in personal responsibility and accountability. If someone doesn't see someone in their daily brick and mortar...they at times can dismiss them callously without considering their impact. I've done it. I'm sure I have. It's inevitable that whilst on this "thing"...we learn to "delete" and "block" instead of confront and deal. We learn to text body shots and body parts...instead of being in someone's personal space and allowing someone to undress you properly. We learn to require proof, that someone is who they say they are...but, also require videos and cam shows to sate our instant desires. Sometimes without properly introducing ourselves and figuring out who someone is on the inside. If they have body issues or not. If they're religious and against such shows of physicality. Before knowing someone...we've already required pics, vids and cam time. I also realized that I came into the discovery of social media at a very tender time in my life. The last place a formerly abused woman, still working on building up her self-esteem, love and worth needed to be...was on the Internet. Bouncing, flailing and struggling in the shark-infested waters of booty call central. Where people can pretend to be whomever they like. Where they can pretend to have what it takes to love you...or hell, even visit you. I shouldn't have been here then...but, then that's not true. I was exactly where I needed to be to learn the lessons I did. It was either then or now. I'm glad it was then.

I was in the middle of plating my pancakes...butter sliding off, as I chased it with my fork's tines. I smell my coffee awaiting me and I am glad that I'm in the place I am. I'm grateful that I found my way BACK to being the woman who doesn't easily cave into a man's requests anymore. I did once. I thought that's what we do online. We get to know each other through the distance by giving each other something "to tide us over" until we meet. I've met no one. Not really. The ones I loved, I've never seen. Guess what? They preferred tangibility over the intangible infatuation attached to the idea of who I may be to them. I'm not even mad [anymore], but as I navigate my way out of my 30's and stand on the precipice of 40...I understand who I am in totality.

I sit here...pancakes gone, coffee cold and typing this...proud that I sent that dude from yesterday OUT of my damn inbox. He befriended me a few weeks ago because our mutual friend shared my pic on her page. I was bombarded with all of the "OMG you're so beautifuls" "GOOD LORD...what it must feel like to lie in your arms"...and I cringed. I cringed in embarrassment for him...that he was doing what he'd learned to do via the Internet. The place where you're asked perpetually, "What's on your mind?". The place where you can commentate willy-nilly on people's lives, looks and likes without considering if your opinion is asked, required or respected.

I felt badly for him for that SPLIT second before I told his ass that I don't do videos or pics...especially for someone I don't know. I also nicely asked him to speak to me using my name and not "baby", "dear", or any other term of endearment...for he SURELY cannot be endeared to me simply because he thinks I'm beautiful.

What the Internet taught me...is that just because everyone's doing it and it's socially and widely acceptable...doesn't mean you should do it. It doesn't work for everyone. I'm a woman who requires touch, consideration, respect and who longs to be cherished by someone who couldn't care less about my online persona. I've learned, that I could teach the Internet a thing or two. ;)

I also realized...the thoughts didn't come from "nowhere". It was sitting right there...underneath my skin like a rash. I'm glad I could get it out. Sheesh. I can relax now. lol

I Don't Wanna

First of all...hi. lol It's been a long time.

Now. I was sitting here thinking on my current state of mind. The understanding or seemingly, acceptance...that I'm single and shall remain that way for a long time. Maybe even forever.

I told my sister today that I simply don't see myself being in a relationship. In my 39 years, not ONE relationship was substantially good for a prolonged period of time. You know? How folks get in a relationship and have some good years and then something happens or just time passes and shit changes? Nope. Either the trouble began early in small, nagging ways...or it started out on the wrong foot...a few months into it. The endings...always the kind that leave a mark. I've never really had one guy leave right...if there is such a thing. I DO know that once they've left...they're gone. That's a good thing, I've deduced...because I don't need no fool coming back and lying about how he's changed when he really just misses the sex or the mind fuck or whatever.

Anyway...as I was having these thoughts...they got deeper. I began to think on the sexual end of things (hence, why I've taken to blogging this under Passion's Fruit and not the Kaleidoscope). I realized that not only don't I want a dude that's possibly gonna start lying, cheating, trying to change and/or control me...but, I don't wanna have sex with anyone. Not really. If I could get it where it was straight sex and no strings, I STILL wouldn't want it. I don't want to relearn someone's body, someone's likes and dislikes. I don't want the pressure of having to be a sexual acrobat, a head-ologist, a kinky dominatrix, a nympho, etc. I don't want to have to accommodate his package's slight with the tightness of my muscles. I don't wanna have to tell him he sucks...or can't. O_O I don't want to have to deal with someone who can't kiss, or doesn't know that I like extra attention paid to my breasts. I don't want to have to learn to like the taste of him, or deal with taco meat, or a number of other nuances that take place in the bedroom.

I feel totally over the concept of being connected to another body or soul. I don't want to talk dirty, I don't wanna dress sexy for him, I don't want to worry if my hair looks nice, I don't want to deal with if I should poot around him yet, or smell his dutch ovens...I don't wanna!

To think...ME..."Kween of Love"...is over it. The woman who used to dream of love, marriage, children, the home, the solid union with her best friend...her being his freak and his only...is over it. I couldn't give an iota of a fuck about a dude right now. Don't get me wrong. I'm nice to guys. Guys smile and say hi...I smile and say hi back. I'll even flirt. I just don't need anything past that. I don't know if that's a good thing...that I'm happy being free of that responsibility...but, it's how I feel. I love being single and not having to worry about what he's doing, with whom and where. I want to be free of that. I LOVE being free of that. All of the details of Facebook status, rings, moving in, blah blah blah! I don't need it.

I suppose, that if it's meant...I mean God says, "Here my child...he is for YOU and you only." it'll be done. Unless I miss that opportunity by feeling how I do currently. ::shrugs::

Whoever he is...has to be AMAZING enough to reach me where I am. Until then, I'm happy with friends and family and just being blessed in the day to day. Maybe it's a good thing that I've lost sight of the "dream"...because maybe then, when it's my time...the dream will be a reality that I couldn't have ever asked for or envisioned.

Until then...I don't wanna.

Ninety Days

It's been a while since I've posted, I decided to come through and post the short story that I wrote this summer for an anthology called, "Summer Heat". Do go and download the free version of the book and read the other three authors' scribes. Without further ado, my short: Ninety Days

I’ve learned that the Cosmos’ job is to make a fool of us whom say “never”. The Universe does this in-your-face, echoed guffaw at the things we claim eternal abstinence from. I promised I’d never marry...never have kids...never have a threesome...never live for my man...and yet...here I stand. A laughable punchline in a string of “nevers”.

“Azure...I want a divorce...” he said. This was the man that wanted (and received) the world from me. I didn’t want to marry. “Azure, I love you enough to give you my name...a sense of security that no fly-by-night “relationship” can offer. I’m offering you my entire world and a God-given guarantee that I’m not going ANY where...”. Like a fool, I caved. I should’ve listened to my instincts. Maybe not to marry...but, not to marry HIS ass.



I wanted no part of being a mother. Afraid of being less of a mom than my own, I fought my husband on conceiving. Why should I bring a child into this already unpredictable world with a mother who was as wavering as the sea’s temperament. In my eyes, the epitome of motherhood was Nereid Patterson...my mom. No way would I give less to a child of mine. I always felt so fearful when thinking of having kids. My mother seemed to do everything right for us kids and I had been so selfish in my recent years...I wasn’t sure I was ready to forsake my self-gluttony for humans that never stop needing. Yet, almost 3 years into the relationship and barely two into the marriage...I was pregnant with our son, Dylan Jr. Barely a year later...Coral would be born...RIGHT in the midst of Big D’s “season of curiosity”. I always wondered why men who present a case worthy for a defense trial in the name of threesomes with another woman...aren’t as willing to accept her fantasy of being taken by two men. They’re not so “open” when they’ve got to smack balls with the guy of her choice...who also just so happens to be plunging his bigger dick into HIS wife. Without question or blinking his almond eyes, MY fantasy got shut down! His? Realized...thrice. Yes, he loved her head game so much that he asked for this...this...Melissa Ford look-a-like, to come back for more. The summer of Coral’s 1st birthday, my husband presented this video vixen prototype to me with the hunger of a lion. It was as if he was asking me to let another lioness into our den. I eventually consented.



The Threesome:

We sent the kids to my sister’s and set up the house for a romantic tryst with “Melissa”. I nervously soaked in a bath of lavender salts and jasmine oil to relax my mind and body. While soaking, I calmed my throbbing center down with a gentle stroking...a warm-up for the night’s menagerie. I closed my eyes and agitated my clit with long dips inside of me...until my cum mixed with the warm waters between my thighs. I moisturized with a favorite citrus-scented oil of mine and laid as still as possible across the bed until D called me downstairs to greet “Melissa”.

When she entered dressed drastically different than the “meeting”...I all of a sudden felt self-conscious. Only a year had passed since having Coral...and my body issues rose to the surface like driftwood. When I’d laid eyes on her the first time...she was wearing a loose-fitting maxi dress cinched with a big belt and her hair pulled away from her face. I could see that she was proportioned nicely, but I didn’t know what was underneath it all. When she walked in and disrobed from the ¾ length overcoat she’d worn...my jaw extended downward...as did my own eyes over my own body. She was wearing a lace bra set in D’s favorite color...red. Her perfect C’s needed no assistance. I’m sure bras are for visual tasting only. Those full tits of hers moved down into the tiniest waist, tightest abs...and onto the fullest hips, I’d seen on a woman to date. When she circled to release her arm from  the coat...an ass...surely made in a Weird Science lab of my husband’s dreams...moved only with her legs extending motions. The curve of the arch in her back was nothing short of an artist’s own laborious chiseling from ebon stone. Again...I glanced downward at my jiggly thighs, baby pooch and slightly sagging D’s. The only thing I could compete with was the beauty of my mama’s genes, in that I had NO stretch marks and a smooth even skin tone. Her hair...was beautiful, deep-waved and framing her heart-shaped face, falling below her shoulders. Instantly I was envious. Here, I stood...my damaged, frizzy, dirty-blondish, albeit long hair...struggling in a loose ponytail. My see-through cover-up over a pale yellow bra set was becoming less see-through and more invisible by the moment...



“Azure...are you okay?” D asked me. I said yes and we went upstairs where our bedroom was decked out in lavish materials. I’d found sari fabric and had draped them romantically over the window’s treatments and placed a few over the small settee in our room. Candles lit, toys laid out and wine chilled...awaited this once exclusively marital space, now ready for my husband’s fantastical debauchery. D went into the bathroom to undress and enter dramatically? while leaving his dream girl and I sitting awkwardly on the settee. She seemingly waited for him to shut the door to begin speaking.



“Melissa” asked me, “What do YOU want, Azure? I know this is D’s fantasy, but I can’t lie...I only agreed to this to be with you. He’s not even my type. I actually like thicker guys...you know, like Ice Cube? Anthony Anderson, even.” I laughed involuntarily and she smiled. “No seriously...I need a weighty man...your husband is too chiseled for me...”. We both laughed. She then ran her hand over my face and down my neck to my breast. My back straightened and my breast rose and fell deeply...leaving tingles along my skin. I almost closed my eyes to give her unspoken assent to do what she pleased. Just then, D entered...oiled and wearing a white pair of boxer briefs. I jumped a little...”Melissa” just smirked.
“I’m glad you two are getting comfortable...” he said, cockily. Immediately, “Melissa” took control. D was all of a sudden in her trance and we were marionettes to her puppet mastery. “D...I’d like to see Azure get more comfortable...can you take that cover-up off of her...slowly?” D responded. I almost got jealous. I only wished his ass moved that fast when I asked him to do something. D slid his hands under the waist-length cover and slid it seductively up and over my head. “Melissa” then said, “D...can I see how you get Azure in the mood?” D laughed a little and said, “Sure...but, I thought you were going to join us...” he said, mostly asking. “I will...but, I’ve done this a few times before and the art of a beautiful threesome is me joining you two already in progress...not the other way around.” D, in awe of her take charge seductress form...nodded and looked deeply at me. I saw a need for this. I wondered why. It felt like this was less fantasy and more power trip...or just a dip into the power of his tip. Did marriage spoil his natural “hunter instincts” and soften his primal desires. Was “Melissa” an exercise in a man’s primordial right to have more than one? Either way...his eyes pleaded, “Do this for me?”. At that moment...something swirled up in me and I became fearless. My shakes went away  and I laid back and spread my legs. I traced my fingertips along my stomach and down into my pale yellow panties as he watched the impression of my fingers dance around the outside of my entrance. D licked his lips and began slowly kissing up my thighs. “Melissa” positioned herself to get the best angle of us while she freed her beautiful breasts. D, occupied with following instruction...was missing her strip tease...her strip tease for ME. She licked her lips and took each of her own nipples into her mouth. Unconsciously, I began rubbing my own. D had found his way to my inner thigh and had begun nuzzling my panties’ fabric with his nose. He loved to do this. He slid the fabric to the side and dipped his tongue into the dark wetness and slurped his way to hardness. In the meantime...”Melissa” had slipped out of her underwear and had propped one leg onto the chest at the end of our bed. She showed me her folds...evenly cocoa-colored...with pink highlights toward the center. I could see the glistening tear drop forming at the opening. She was getting excited by watching me and I, too was beginning to get unusually damp. D was slurping, humming and moaning...enjoying the fruits of “Melissa’s” influence. He looked up at me barely and said, “Damn, baby...you’re wetter than ever...” and continued feeding himself with my milkiness.

I freed my breasts...golden-yellow with cocoa aureoles and hardened pea-sized nipples. I massaged them feverishly as “Melissa” kept eye contact with me...and a steady stroking rhythm on her wet pet. Her pet was LOUDLY purring with swishes of clear stickiness. I licked my lips as she stirred her hips for me. I nodded yes...and she silently knew what I wanted. She climbed onto the bed softly...causing D to stir from his feasting. He smiled and went back between my legs. “Melissa” licked, massaged, pulled my nipples with her teeth...then sucking hard on my breast. A little milk released...but she kept sucking. She was enjoying my milk a little too much, so I pushed her head away. She smiled and then kissed me deeply...better than D ever had. She pecked me one last time before giving me her nipples to suckle. I tried to swallow her...her skin so soft, and her raised nipples fitting perfectly inside my mouth. The scent of her tickling my senses...something sweet...Juicy Couture, maybe? She retreated from my pull...but only to sit on my face. I’d never tasted another woman...just my own juices. The air around me got dense with the scent of chocolate...later to be discovered as a chocolate body creme she’d used. Well, between that and the creamy, almost peach flavor of HER...I drank her like she was flavored coffee. D looked up and was astonished at the sight. He was thrown by the ease in which I’d begun delving into her...as if I’d done it before. He got so excited...he took my panties all the way off and entered me swiftly. He slid his arms around “Melissa’s” body, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples as she bucked onto my tongue. He couldn’t have been inside of me for a minute before I gushed all over him. He stroked until he returned the favor...and before long, “Melissa’s” cum had coated my throat...me enjoying it all.

She got up and bent over...and my husband slid his dick into her. His eyes rolled back and his pecs flexed as he felt new pussy for the first time in almost four years. She looked back at him and said, “No slow strokes mothafucka...long, hard and fast!” D complied and fucked her so hard that I think she wished she hadn’t requested it. D was no slouch...his thickness was compromising the tightness of her depth and she wasn’t screaming in passion anymore. She didn’t tell him to stop, but I could tell when she went from taking it like a champ to re-adjusting herself to take him all in. I saw her nipples raise hard and decided to suck them some more as D was ramming into her. I laid down backward underneath her to play with those mounds of hers...and she took initiative to finger around in my wet spot. She kissed and licked my belly while making my insides twitch. She came first...all over D’s dick...me second, from her finger play...and D last...all over “Melissa’s” back.

It was the best sex I’d ever had...but, when D asked for her to come through again, I wondered why. I got jealous again. It had been a few months since the first time...so I clearly had gotten back into “marriage” mode. D said it would only be ONCE...but now he was begging me to bring her in. He tried to say that he loved seeing me so free and wanted to see “Melissa” and I enjoy each other. I didn’t believe him. He was sprung off her. I could tell. I complied though. I know, stupid right? Not really. “Melissa” and I had talked before I decided on a second go-round and she made sure I knew that it was ME she longed to taste again. The third time, it was I who’d requested her presence...and in hungry, greedy man fashion...D agreed. Each time we were together...D got excluded a little more. Then...I asked for her a fourth time.

“Baby, I was wondering if we could have “Melissa” again. What do you think?” I asked, softly. I was hoping to use my wifely submissive voice to cajole him into another tryst with my new piece of pussy. He looked at me as he was getting in bed and almost didn’t answer me.



“Really, Azure? Are you serious? You know...I thought I was trippin’ the last time she was here...but, I think I’m onto something. You two are into each other...and this threesome shit has become more of a twosome with me watching. What’s up with that?” He asked, his tone indicating a degree of hurt.
“Baby...come on. This was YOUR idea, remember? You wanted this and I went along with it so that you would have your desires fulfilled...now I want mine fulfilled. Is that too much?” I pleaded. He sat up and said, “Yes. Yes it is. My fantasy is done...but this isn’t a fantasy anymore Azure...this is you and this chick fucking each other on a consistent basis. I can’t have that. I’m NOT gonna compete for my wife with pussy!” he said, leaving our bed and putting his shoes on.



“Where are you going? Come on, D...you’re overreacting!” I got a little scared. He’d never left our  bed before and it hurt to see him react this way.  He turned back and said, “I’m gonna sleep in Lil D’s room until you decide what’s more important...me or HER!”



I sat up in bed alone and cried until I fell asleep somewhere between twilight and Coral’s yelling at 7am. Every time I tried to be civil with D...he ignored me. The tension was becoming an unlivable condition for me and so after two weeks of trying to work it out and show him that I loved him, I announced my decision. I walked into the den after putting the kids to bed one night and sat on the couch across from his work area. I didn’t speak right away. I got caught up with the summer’s breeze through the French door’s slight opening. Watching the thin, light-blue drapes ride on barely there winds was captivating. He finally interrupted my revelry without even looking up from his laptop’s screen. “What do you want, Azure?” I didn’t look at him either. I said, still staring at the blowing drapes...”I want “Melissa”...” He spun around...looked at the den’s door to insure it was closed and when he saw it was he said, “Are you FUCKING kidding me? TWO fucking weeks of me not saying JACK SHIT to you...showing you my stance on this thing and you come in here and choose HER? What about our family?”



This. This is the moment that a lot of people with common sense overlook when trying to bring spice into their marriage. When a woman’s intuition says...don’t...but, she does. She does because she gets accused of not being willing to do whatever it takes to please her man. She does it because she’s told that her man should never hear the word ‘no’. She does it because she wants to be the “cool ass wife” instead of the “cold ass wife” who is too frigid for such ‘freaky’ things. No one ever calculates the moment that one of the mates falls for the third part in this equation. Yet...this isn’t what THIS is about...



“Is this about me wanting her over you? Or is this about HER wanting ME over you? I mean, how dare you get indignant? This was your idea. Your introduction into our sexual repertoire...now you want to get fucking sensitive because you’re not the center of attention? ...TYPICAL damn Leo!” He got up and said, “NO...it’s about the fact that this isn’t a fantasy anymore...it’s like you’re falling for each other...” I shook my head in dismay. “D...I’m in LOVE with YOU. I don’t love that woman...I love her tongue. I love her touch. Okay? I like the free feeling that she gives me. For you it was the same, right? You wanted to freely indulge in your fantasy and you did...I complied...now, your fantasy has become mine and you’re feeling out of control? Not fair!” He said to me with a final sense of husband-ly dominance...surely expecting nothing but wifely obedience in return, “NO...NO more “Melissa”. It’s back to US...this family, this marriage...or I don’t want to be here.” ...and then he returned to his work.



I saw that he was serious and I considered his words. With that...my request for “Melissa” ended. I called her the next evening and told her thank you for her influence on mine and D’s sex life and let her know that our fantasy was over...



Fast Forward to now...4 months later...

So, when I sit across from my husband and his eyes are cold and his demeanor is strange, it’s heart-breaking when I’ve done all I can with what was asked of me to give him a life he’s been wanting. I listened to his words and wondered...”Where am I?” I am sure my eyes glassed over and I stopped “listening”...because I couldn’t really hear what was being said...even though I heard everything that was said...

“You’re not who I married. Everything we said we were going to do changed the moment you got pregnant and life seemed to stop. Sometimes, I don’t even think you want to be my wife...” This was AFTER, I’d told him of how petrified I was of marriage. This was AFTER, I’d begged him to let us wait at least 5 years into our marriage for kids...and AFTER, I’d consented to a threesome that resulted in the woman wanting me more than him. Yet, somehow he stood in front of me, forgetting the prefaces to each chapter of this story...placing blame on me for becoming everything he’d asked for.

Cautionary Lesson to women...when your gut says DON’T DO IT...DON’T! The nerve of this man to sit in front of me and blame me for things that he pressured me into doing. I said I wanted to remain with him, but in the promise of love and NOT marriage. I needed to grow into who AZURE was before becoming Mrs. Dylan Crews. What I became was a faceless, almost shapeless silhouette of his idea of me. What I want now...is my freedom. I want 90 days to myself.

“What the hell are you doing, Azure?” Big D asked me as I placed his daughter in his arms and rolled in her and Lil D’s bags. As I propped her princess bag and D’s big boy race car bag against my old home’s staircase, I said,”Leaving your children with you for a summer...”. He placed Coral down as she waddled toward Lil D...the both of them marching off into the den. In spite of having moved out over two months earlier, Coral still knew exactly what room held the toys. I’d moved into a building my mother owned after he asked me for a divorce. He wanted to remain living together as a family, but living separately in the romantic sense. Well, I may have not been crazy about being married in the first place...but, what I DO believe is quite traditional. You do NOT get to live in the charade of marital bliss while off fucking and wooing the next. I’m also PRETTY damn certain that eventually, my dating experience would be cut short by Big D’s not-so-subtle sabotage. No way. So, I told him that if he didn’t do the right thing and leave...I would. He didn’t think I’d do it. A week after separation papers were filed, my mother had offered me the chance to live in her building in a very nicely renovated apartment. The best thing was that though most of the place had an open floor plan, there were two bedrooms that were separated by a very beautiful bathroom. DONE DEAL.

I watched the kids frolic while Big D bitched.



“So what the hell are you going to do for a whole three months, Blu?” he snapped. He always called me Blu when he was pissed. I guess it was his way of disrespecting and demystifying my name. I chuckled a little and said, “Dylan...it’s none of your concern what I’ll be doing...but, I AM going to leave you with contact information and a general sense of where I’m going...” I pulled out a printed piece of paper with my location...a spa and resort in the  Stoweflake area in Vermont. A friend of mine moved from Florida to Vermont after she got married and lived 20 miles away from the spa. She offered me a chance to come and stay with her while her husband went to California on real estate business. She and I both needed the company...so it was a no-brainer.



“...the fuck? Where is this?...” he barked. “This is STUPID, Blu...you’re gonna go all the way up THERE? All the resorts, spas and shit in Florida and you’re gonna go to the mountains? I swear, if you go...I’ll file for custody under abandonment...”



I looked at him...cracked a smile and walked out, closing the door behind me. I teared up as I left my babies, but this was something I needed to do for me. Men leave all the time with “babysitter privileges” and think nothing of it. I needed this time alone. I’d built my whole world around someone who coaxed me into a life I never wanted...all for him to stamp the life out of me with that one sentence. “I want a divorce...”



He yanked the door open and yelled obscenities as I got in my car and drove off. My luggage was packed and now all I needed was for mommy to take me to the airport.



When we got to the airport in Tallahassee...my mom broke the silence that had resounded loudly throughout the ride. “Are you sure, Azure?” she asked with tears. “About the trip? Yes, mommy...I am.”  “No baby...about walking away from your kids and husband...can you live with this?” I looked at her as if she had a twin growing from her shoulder....was she serious? “Mommy...I didn’t walk away from him, I walked in the direction he pointed. He said it was over...so, I’ve learned to accept it. I’ve done nothing but give my kids a summer with their dad. I’ll call them and keep in touch with you, too...but, to answer your question...yes.”

I hugged her tightly...kissed her on the forehead and walked off into the airport’s fray. Within an hour...I was ready for boarding. Once on the plane to Vermont, I smiled. I knew what lay ahead would be one of three things for me. It would either be a breather...a way to relax and regain my stride. Or...it would be an eye-opening experience...OR it would be the worst possible mistake I’ve made to date. I didn’t feel in my gut that it was wrong to do. I’d felt more hesitancy, walking down the aisle and planning a pregnancy. This was where I needed to be...period.

The landing was smooth. The air “up there” was SO crisp and clean. It didn’t have the stench of gas, congestion and heat. It was more like outside A/C personified. The moment I stepped out of the gate, I saw my best friend since grade school...running toward me and screaming, “ZUUUUURE!”

We embraced and looked at one another...then embraced and did it at least 3 times. “Oh woooow, Leeny!!! You’re even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you!” Coraline (where I got Coral’s name from) was my twin, except for our height. I stand at 5’8”  and Leeny at 5’1”. We both boasted almond coloring and sandy blond/reddish hair. Mine was short and curly, from my recent chop...hers long and wavy. We certainly looked like we shared genes. We finally broke from the stand still we were frozen in and made our way to baggage claim. As we claimed my 2 suitcases, we yammered nonsensically...falling in sync with the way we were. We cat-walked through the gate and then the lobby, commanding attention. Every man...and a few ladies, watched our reunion scene. Once we’d exited the airport...it got real.



“This car is NICE, Leeny!!! Infiniti...your dream car!” I raved. She looked at me quickly and then back at the road and asked, “What happened, Azure?”. I silenced my chatter and watched the Stowe area’s scenery whiz by my window. The tears welled up and I said, “Life...the life he forced onto me...and the one he snuffed out once he got bored with his own created fantasy. It’s like...like, he wanted to see if he could achieve it. I’m not sure if he ended things because he wasn’t happy...or because I was some sort of experiment that failed...” I sniffled.



“No way, not that. I know you’re hurting, sis...” Coraline said as she stroked my arm with her hand and returned it to the stick shift. “...He may or may not be done with this relationship, but I don’t doubt he loved you once, even if he doesn’t anymore. You guys always seemed so happy...but, my question is what do you do now?”



This was a good question...but for now, all I wanted to do was enjoy this trip, so that’s what I said. “I just want to enjoy these 90 days...”. To that end, Leeny kept driving until we pulled into her driveway.

Her home was splendid. The house’s stone and stucco facade, mixed beautifully with the surrounding environment. The picture windows gave the home a modern look...while the stones, woods and stucco lent an earthy ambiance to the home’s overall presence. The garage lifted and she drove in and parked. Before exiting her car she looked at me and said, “Well, here we are. We’ll just go in and get situated and then we’ll drive to the resort tomorrow. We’re staying in adjoining rooms so that we both can have privacy and still have pajama parties...” We both chuckled and got out of the car.



Once in, the house just continued to get more amazing. The gourmet kitchen, the massive family room, the living room that had comfortable furniture but still looked like something out of a magazine...it was gorgeous. She helped me lug a bag into the guest room and then brought me back downstairs so we could have dinner. Leeny, clearly had taken to the wife role very well. Before she married...she could barely open a can without cutting herself or chipping a nail. NOW...she’s cooking up crab cakes, Nicoise salads and homemade bruschetta...I’m so impressed.

After scarfing down her meal and drinking wine and laughing, we coordinated our itinerary together. We would be staying at the resort for a month (on a very generous comp from Leeny’s husband’s company). Once we’d sufficiently basked in the spa’s services and serenity, I’d spend the last 60 days at Leeny’s until her husband, Garrett came back from his trip.



When I showered, washed my hair and slipped into my robe, I decided to sit down and call the kids. It was only 9ish and I figured that at least Lil D would be up playing video games with his dad. I climbed into the high queen-sized bed using the wooden step stool on the floor. I looked at my phone and exhaled. I dialed Big D.



“Hello?” Big D said with an attitude. “Hey, D...how are the kids?” I asked. I was expecting his answer to be sarcastic or spiteful, but he surprised me with, “They’re good. Coral cried a little after you left...well, a LOT. She wouldn’t go to sleep unless Lil D sang her that song you sing...” I sniffled a little. I went to ask if Lil D was up, when Big D said, “Come home, Azure. I promise we’ll work it out. I’m not mad. I just want for us to be like we were before...” I got choked up and almost let out a sob, but I remembered that this probably was less about his wanting me and more about his not knowing what I had in mind to do while here. He felt out of control and that was scary for him...fun for me.



“D...I’ll be home in 89 days. Give me this...” He yelled and disrupted the calm that was between our two lines. “GIVE you this? You TOOK it. You’re THERE!! Are you there with some man? How do I know you’re even WITH Coraline? Chicks lie for each other all of the time...” His litany got tiresome and because I already knew where this is coming from, I decide to end the conversation. “Good night, D...please kiss the kids for me.” ::end call::



For an hour or more, he called and text me until I finally turned the phone off. I had to call my mother and give her Leeny’s home phone number for emergencies for when I had to cut my phone off again. He was trying to confuse me and I was OVER his games. Tomorrow was a new day...a beginning of my summer’s fun.



Bright and early, Leeny and I had packed our bags into her car and had headed back in the direction of Stoweflake’s Spa and Resort. We’d planned and made appointments for mani/pedis, massages, saunas and even hair and facials. Weekly we’d do maintenance and daily we’d find activities to get into. Today’s activity was just poolside relaxation after our spa time.  We got to our rooms, checked in and changed into the robes provided and reported to the first appointment of the day. Having a full day of relaxation and pampering was beyond wonderful and felt deserving. Yet, I knew that once we’d settled into our chairs, Leeny would start with the questions...one of which caught me off guard.



“So, you gave him his fantasy didn’t you?” She accused. Coraline Evans knew me better than anyone. When Big D had asked for the threesome, I called her a day later and asked her opinion. She told me how she felt...that it was up to me and only me...but that she felt that marriage was a safe haven between a man and a wife and that no one should come between them. I introduced a small biblical tidbit about how, “the marital bed couldn’t be defiled”...but, she assured me that it wasn’t including 3rd parties. “Would that not be adultery?”, she questioned. After that, I chose to keep the experience to myself.

“Yes...I did.” I responded somewhat shamefully. She sighed a little and then said, “Do you think the threesome played a role in your marriage’s end? Or do you think this is unrelated issues surfacing?”.  I really wasn’t sure. I mean, damn...I honestly didn’t know what the issue was. I thought I’d given him everything he asked of me. I couldn’t figure out if THAT was the problem...or if he simply woke up one day and didn’t love me anymore. “Leeny, I don’t know. All I know is that I feel run over. Now, can we get back to the spa experience? I clearly recall putting a moratorium on discussing my personal life.” I snapped. “Whoa...I’m just trying to get you to a point of relaxation, because truthfully...you can decide not to talk about it all you want. The REAL question is does your hush mode include  the hushing of your mind...” she said as she sipped her seltzer water. I gave her a quick evil eye and then decided to keep my comment to myself. There was nothing good to come from continuing this convo. Like sisters, Coraline and I had our knock down-drag out fights and made up moments later...but, I didn’t want to test the waters since it had been a while since we spent more than a few hours in each other’s company. THIS was supposed to be a decompression...not a prize fight.



After we finished getting our manis and pedis, I decided to take a walk. Leeny decided to stay and soak up the sun by the pool. GOOD...I was still borderline irritated with her. I put on a short sundress and a pair of gladiator sandals and left for the pathway I was directed to.  The views were scenic and God-inspired. I allowed my mind to wander as the surrounding fauna shifted into everyday things. A bed of flowers, colored the same as Coral’s blanket...reminded me of missing my baby girl. A couple in a motorized cart reminded me of Lil D’s “vroom” sounds. I was deluded with reminders of home. I got misty-eyed and stopped short. I must’ve put the brakes on too hard...because I rolled my ankle. “SHIT!” I yelled. I found a stone bench and sat down holding my throbbing pain. I burst into tears. I got mad at myself immediately. “No...shake it off Azure! This is NOT what you’re here for! No tears, no bitching and moaning. NO! Fun, relaxation, rejuvenation! THAT is the goal!” I said aloud.



“Sounds good...” he said. I wasn’t even startled. More like annoyed with the disruption. “Excuse me? Is that your NORMAL practice...intrude on people’s conversations?” I said harshly. He laughed at me and said, “...conversations with one’s self? I suppose I would be intruding. Excuse me for being rude. I apologize to you...and yourself...”



I cracked up laughing. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry...what kinda wacko must “I” sound like?” He shook his head as if to plead for me not to beat myself up. He extended his hand, “Good afternoon...I’m Jackson.” I looked at him for the first time, seeing his cinnamon brown skin and chiseled jawline. He stood at more than 6ft and smelled of sweat and cocoa butter. I smiled and said, “My name is Blu...”



::heavy-breaths fill the air::



Jackson’s dick was so good. I moaned with genuine satisfaction as I deeply inhaled the length of him until the head hit my throat. I choked on it with pleasure and used the drool from my greed to jerk the bottom of his shaft with my hand. He nutted with intensity down my throat and I closed my eyes, reared my head back and licked my lips. He snatched me up, threw my sundress up and removed my panties with a yank. He bent me over and planted his face into my ass causing me to release a loud “ugh”. His tongue seemed like it was the length of my entire entrance. It felt like the tip of his tongue was on my clitoris while he managed to catch and swallow the mess I was making with the rest. LONG tongue tricks from clit to lips was making me light-headed. I wanted to scream for him to stop but I forgot his name. “Man...uhhhh, mmmmm sir...” I was stuttering as I reached behind me to push him off. He grabbed my hand and held it there which made me fall forward onto my other elbow. “Shiiiit...” I cried as I made a sound that could only be described as a short, high-pitched yelp...something like Prince. He was doing this back and forth motion, almost like he was rolling and unfurling his tongue on my lips. It felt like he was rubbing his member in between my folds. Then...this GIFTED man...stuck his tongue like 3 inches into my space and tongue-fucked me. Just as I was about to cum, he retrieved his oral weapon and cinched my clit between his lips and sucked the cum right out of me.



Not to waste a minute...he stood up, pulled me to the edge of the bed, propped me up, with the sleight of a magician’s hand...gloved his love stick and entered into me with a splash. My wetness fought against his forward thrust...juiciness spewing and covering my inner thighs and the front of him. My legs were weak, but I couldn’t let this man get the upper hand. I rocked back and forth, swiveling my hips onto his pumps. My whole body responded with feverish quivers, nipples so hard they hurt, and splayed toes.



[PAP PAP PAP PAP PAP]



He pounded my cake so well that my icing melted all over...glazing him and me. When he came, he went balls deep and held it there. Filling me with circumference, length and force...I shook until he pulled out slowly...which made me cum AGAIN! Depleted and dazed...I remained in the doggy position long after he’d took his hands off of me. I couldn’t move. I moaned lightly into the sheets of his bed until he showed mercy on me and wiped me down from behind. Well...his efforts to clean me up only stirred the nymphomania in me. I began winding my bottom against the cool and damp hand towel he was using. “Oh, you want more, huh?” he asked rhetorically. He unsheathed his sword and slid into me again. “Yes....mmmmm, yea. Fuck it like that again” I pleaded like a hungry animal.



This went on for another hour...and into the rest of his stay which was 2 weeks afterward. Everyday after Leeny and I did our routine, we broke for a couple of hours or less. I ended up in Jackson’s room, Leeny just indulged in the spa’s services or the activities offered. Jackson’s dick seemed to be JUST the thing I needed. I realized that in all the times I’d made love to Big D...he’d never really hit the deepest parts of me. My body was Jackson’s for 2 weeks...and he managed to touch every sensitive spot on my body in that time, while Big D had clearly only reached one or two. Jackson could blow gently on my nipple and my clit would vibrate involuntarily with excitement. I was drenched in my own cum before I left his room everyday.



When he finally left to return home...I went into withdrawal. His addictive touch had me confused and feeling abandoned. I masturbated incessantly while thinking of him and his sweet mouth and thick pipe.

“Azure...are you okay? You don’t look well...” Leeny observed. “...You were on a high for a couple of weeks but now you seem “off”. Do you want to talk about it?” she asked with concern. I hadn’t told her of my daily rendezvous with Jackson. I didn’t want her to think I was ditching her for dick...even though I was. I finally told her the details...and she came clean with some details of her own. She’d been fucking her masseuse. Happy endings all around, I see. She confided that her husband’s “business trip” was really a mutually decided time out for the both of them. I guess that “glitter” wasn’t golden.



By the time my 61st day had come around...Garrett had returned home from his “business” trip. He asked Leeny to work things out and she agreed. At that point, it was senseless for me to remain. Two months had been long enough and honestly, I was missing my babies. Big D had gotten used to the idea of me being gone and had made peace with it. He’d allowed for me to peacefully call whenever I wanted to speak to the kids. I’d even used Skype to see the kids and spend time before bed. Now, it was time to go home and face the music. The truth was that I DID have a family. I may not have planned for these things, but I had them nonetheless. I needed to head home. So, I returned to Florida on my 63rd day in Vermont.

My mother picked me up and grilled me on my trip. I gave her the clean version...plenty of fresh air, exercise, and girl talk with Coraline. She seemed satisfied that I hadn’t stayed the entirety of the summer...forever the optimist, my mother. She dropped herself off at home as I drove my own car back to the house to pick up the kids. The moment I pulled up, Big D exited the front door. I expected tension and questions, but I received an ushering hand on the small of my back into the house. He embraced me and said, “I missed you, Azure...I really did. I’m not even going to waste time bullshittin’...come back? Please?” he begged with tears.



This is where I ask myself what I want. RIGHT HERE...in the midst of the moment that a woman waits for after she’s been dumped by her love. The return of the released butterfly...back where it belongs. Do I take him back because HE wants back in...or do I take him back because this is where I want to be. As I was running these rationalizations through my mind, he did something that made the decision easier. He sat down on the chair near the door...pulled me close and began sucking air over my nipples through the fabric of my silk shirt. The cool sensation made immediate moisture between my thighs. I closed my eyes and held his head closer. He slid his hands up my khaki mini skirt and rolled my panties down to my ankles. Never opening my eyes, I let him. I heard his pants unzip and then he lowered me down onto him. He bounced me up and down as he stroked upward into my pool of warmth and sweet. He bit my nipples through my shirt and I felt my orgasm rise from my toes to my belly and then back down onto him. He came inside of me and held me tightly as he cried my name, “Azure...baby, I’m sorry. Don’t take this away from me.”



I kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose and then his lips. I stood to my feet, picked up my underwear and placed them back on. He saw this and could feel the letdown coming. He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. “I know...it’s over...”



I took him by the hand and said, “Let’s go upstairs...” He looked up and said, “Huh?”. I smiled and said, “...I don’t need 90 days...do you?” He wiped his nose, stood up and said, “Nope...it took me 90 minutes after you left to know that all I need is you.” I snatched him close and kissed him. “Good...don’t ever forget it.”