A Time-Traveler: Harlem

***Author's Note***

This story is a direct companion piece to my earlier story "A Time-Traveler's Lust" and a companion piece to any stories in the "A Time-Traveler" series.

You don't have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together.

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Two nude women rested in the petal-filled hot springs. One had caramel skin, dark and somewhat narrow eyes, and tight, black curls in an updo. The other was of copper skin, narrower dark eyes, and straight black hair in similar style.

The copper woman laughed. "I can't believe you did that! No, actually, I definitely believe you did that."

The caramel woman covered her own laughter with a rose gold cup of tea as the copper spoke again.

"Damn, Lee. I really wish I could come with you."

"You should! We can go anywhere and any time."

"I'd become jobless at best, and the Unit could do who knows what other things..."

Lee playfully smiled and shook her head. "Not if it's only once... or-twice-or-every-so-often. I certainly fuck around too much, but I still have my job somehow."

"Nepotism. Nepotism is how."

The two laughed.

"Well, fuck, Po. I do my job properly sometimes. And really, I usually don't get caught."

"Usually."

---------------

Two days earlier...

Lee fucked up more than usual, sure, but she would fix it. She had to.

She went to 1944, London, observation only. No interactions.

Glancing at newspapers, into coffee cups, at suits, anything that didn't break 38th-century privacy laws, and recorded the information she could with the difficulties of time-travel technology.

She understood why, of course.

Didn't make it less creepy.

She entered what she should into the database, and removed what she shouldn't.

The Unit would never know... hopefully... even if she still got reprimanded by Supreme Ciobanu.

But hey, lesson learned: Make sure not to leave 38th-century clothes in prehistory.

...and when you do something important, why not celebrate?

The traveler knew exactly where she wanted to go.

In the midst of her bedroom, she shot out her time gun, taking a running leap into colors and galaxies swirled in chaos. Scents of coffee, pumpkin, and ash. There were melodies and ancient chants, sex rock, techno-everything, and finally, jazz music.

Lee fell directly onto a hard floor. Polished suede and short, thick heels greeted her from a distance.

A crowd of chocolate shades danced to the upbeat jazz and the deep and gravelly voice of a man.

Cigars, smiles, illegal booze and innovative paintings...

Now, this was Harlem.

The traveler directed her time gun to match the general style, and soon she herself was draped in forest-colored cotton, strings of pearls around her neck, and a pair of kitten heels.

Things directly on the body were harder to adjust, but she'd managed to run through the system until her hair was in short, glossy waves, lipstick small and red, eyebrows thin and shadow dark.

She made her way close to the musicians and turned her automatic translator off.

Music flowed over her, engulfing her deep in the jazz, dancing to her just as she was dancing to it.

She danced with the men, with the women, with a couple unusually ambiguous people for the time and place...

Bodies close to hers. Closer, further, closer, further, closer still, as they danced to the jazz. The warmth that emanated from them, it was all too good.

Her own time-traveling sex was already getting wetter, hotter.

Another song started and musicians shifted.

Her eyes were on them as they left the stage. Their smiles, their laughter, their dark corduroy.

And apparently being conspicuous, as one mocha musician soon returned her gaze, damn-near staring into her soul, if she had one.

Lee motioned him with a single finger. He looked around for just a moment before striding right to her. She turned the translator back on as subtly as possible.

"Well, good evening!" he smiled. "I hope I'm not being... untoward when I say that you are absolutely radiant."

His voice was deliciously deep.

"Well, thank you." she slipped into a silky tone. "My name is Lee."

"Walter."

"No, Lee."

They laughed.

Time seemed to swirl into satin vapor as the two conversed. They were just talking, laughing... and then Lee's ass was pressed against piano keys backstage, an untouched shot glass on the ledge, and heavy kisses trailing from her mouth to her neck.

Even with the surprisingly unpleasant sensation of ivory and wood brutalizing the cheeks of her ass, Lee grew ever-wetter as the jazz singer's hardened cock pressed against her thighs from beneath his corduroy trousers.

She shoved him onto the piano bench, nearly toppling them both to the floor, and even in their brief wobbling, they kissed further still.

Walter hurriedly removed his clothes in a rather chaotic display of lust, and the traveler placed longing kisses down his hairy chest, inhaling his smooth, masculine scent.

They locked eyes, and he grabbed her tight, swinging her into the air and back on the piano bench with a spine-punching thud, one barbaric enough to set off the medical device beneath her skin, only adding further euphoria to the strange pleasure.

He dragged her toward him, her legs splayed, her dress up to her hips. She wore no panties beneath.

The man breathed her in deeply and growled with the fervor of an ancient Roman— one particular Roman she'd had the pleasure of having the pleasure of — before placing his mouth on the delicate surroundings of her sex.

Lee bit her plump lips in a stainless smile, caressing her own breasts through the heavy cotton.

Legs laced around his back, Walter held her curvy ass, tongue circling her swollen clit, Lee shuddering, shivering, and quivering at the delicate licks and kisses.

Muffled moans and stifled giggles escaped him, as much as anything could. He pressed her further against the wood and moved his full hands upon her heavy breasts.

He was lost in his own pleasure when she guided him up to her, kissing his mouth and her own taste with it.

Delicious, but what's new?

He whipped his sex out from his trousers and ran himself up and down her wet folds before she placed him at her entrance.

They locked eyes as Walter pressed himself inside of her. She made a soft, laughing moan.

He went slow only for a moment, then quickened himself to the rhythm of the upbeat jazz tempo.

She rested on the piano bench, her hands covering his own as he held atop her thick thighs.

Thrusting, thrusting, deeper and deeper in her time-traveling pussy.

She jutted her legs up and wrapped soft feet around Walter's neck. He nearly growled and thrust harder still.

His breathing sharpened, quickened, strained. He pulled out and whipped her body around, banging her knees and arms on the wood.

The man admired her big ass for a moment and gave it a good smack before entering her again.

She giggled and moaned into the wood, and decided to tongue the small crack in it.

Unsurprisingly, it just tasted like wood, but she closed her eyes and further caressed the piano bench with her tongue as the big, dark man pounded her.

Harder and harder, faster and faster.

She spit on her fingers and circled her dainty asshole as Walter moaned like some kind of hot, ancient demon.

Lee moaned harder as her asshole pulsated, pussy pounded deep, and the man damn-near crying in pleasure.

"I'm-I think I'm go-" he panted.

"Yes!"

Walter pulled out and Lee quickly turned to him, his cum Pollock-painting her face, dress, and open mouth.

She moaned hard and rough as he jerked off more and more onto her.

Walter groaned out till he finished and slumped to the floor, chuckling softly, his eyes practically spinning.

Lee looked him dead in the eye until he met her gaze again.

She showed her cum-caked tongue, leaned her head back, spat it high in the air, and caught it in her mouth again.

The traveler grabbed the earlier glass and guzzled cum with a shot of gin. She smiled devilishly and let out a soft sigh.

The man could not stop smiling and laughing, and staring in awe.

And damn, she hated gin, but loved a good reaction.

Lee straightened the dress and sauntered toward her heels, walking unnecessarily close to Walter just so the sides of her feet touched his now happily-collapsed body.

In retrospect, she could have told him he didn't have to pull out. A jet couldn't get through 38th century contraceptives. It wouldn't be the only worry in the 1920s, though she thankfully couldn't get or give infections either.

And damn, he was attractive.

The traveler could've gone for more jazz and hoped to do just that, but as she walked out from backstage, she saw the familiar face of a woman, dressed in a deep trench coat with her dark hair in two braids.

The woman was deeper-skinned than Lee, but with much the same eyes. Eyes that were fixed upon Lee with a single brow raised and arms crossed.

"Well, hey-"

"We've talked about this. You can't keep doing such dangerous things."

"Oh," Lee said, "it's because Medical went off, isn't it? In that case, it took you a while."

"No. I got here and heard what was more obviously going on, so I waited."

"That's sweet."

"You wouldn't've listened otherwise. You still won't, but you should. You're getting too reckless..." the woman sighed. "Let's just go home, okay?"

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"Well, you are getting even more reckless," Po sipped upon Ginseng in her own rose gold cup, "and that man definitely went into reckless and violent ways."

"It's not like I would've known that."

"But that's kind of the point, isn't it? I'm not blaming you for that, not really. I just think you could go about things safer."

Lee looked at the copper woman for a moment, and sipped her own tea.

"You're not wrong."