Butter on Cream

There was one more thing he had to say to her, this wanton white goddess, before he took her. He wanted her to know she was breaking the ultimate taboo. With him. Now.

"Do you know I'm Asian?"

"Oh goddd...yesss... fuck me... fuck me..." Lisa cried, her eyes wide and wild, her legs thrashing as she fought against his hands, rough around her wrists. Michael's dark shaft drove into Lisa, penetrating her with one quick, deep thrust, his domination of her now complete. Thrusting deeply, he released her wrists, his hands sliding down to lift her hips to him as he ground into her, hard and fast. Lisa reached her arms to him, her legs moving with him, stroking his muscled, straining, back, his pumping ass, urging him on. She hadn't felt so deeply, utterly, desired for so long. All the feelings she'd thought she'd forgotten came flooding back to her, he felt so good, so right. This exotic stranger was taking her, hard, with no regard for her now, no regard for her pleasure. He saw her, he wanted her, he took her. Lisa was his fuck-toy, his little white plaything, and her own open submission to him wildly excited her. She gazed up at him, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth open and panting, as he thrust into her, lost in his own lust, his movements deep, rapid and strong.

Michael, feeling the powerful rush of his mastery of her, fought back the urge for release. "Not so fast...It's too fast...I want this to last..." he thought wildly, fighting back the overwhelming sensations that flooded his entire body. He slowed his thrusts, reveling in the feel of her hot, slick pussy, fully opened to him. Pulling out, his hands left her hips and went to her face, stroking her cheek, her eyes opening to his. Smiling, Lisa murmured thickly, "How you doin'? You enjoying yourself?" Michael let out a soft, breathy groan. He was enjoying himself, immensely, but there was one more thing we wanted to experience, one more thing he was going to ask her to do before he would be sated.

"Flip over," he commanded, "On your stomach."

Lisa obeyed, rolling to bury her face in his pillow, her arms stretching gracefully, cat-like, as arched her back, her knees tucking up under her. Michael's hands went to the small of her back as lifted her hips into the air, onto all fours as he poised to enter her from behind. He took in her rounded, heart-shaped ass and blonde curls spread across her back as he penetrated her anew, hitting bottom with one swift stroke. He loved taking her from behind, his eyes fixed on the white triangle that covered her bare ass, her golden curls whipping back and forth as he fucked her, hard and fast. Lisa's breath escaped from her in time to his thrusts, as she moaned, "Unhh...uhnn...uhnn..."

Michael's hands caught her wrists, covering her back with his chest, spreading himself over her as her drove in to her deeper, faster, feeling the delicious friction. He wanted her to explode with him, match his release with hers, feel her spasms of ecstasy as he flooded her with his semen, feel her spent and throbbing beneath him. His hand, locked around her wrist, lifted her hand to her soaking, throbbing pussy, "Play with yourself...play with yourself while I fuck you..." He whispered in her ear, "Come with me...I know you want to..."

Lisa groaned loudly at the wanton request, her fingers finding her hard clit. She stroked herself, expertly, hard and fast, sliding her fingers down to touch his slippery cock as he pounded into her. He was close, so close to orgasm now, losing himself in the waves of his pleasure as he groaned, "Ahh fuck...yesss... Fuck...yesss... Ahnghhh..."

Lisa, spurred on by his impending climax, increased the rapid pace of her masturbation, her fingers whirling on her own hard bud, marveling at the twin sensations of his throbbing cock inside her and her own hand on her own, hard, stiff, clit. She felt her own climax wash over her, her pussy spasming uncontrollably as he continued to pound into her, finally able to let go of his lust. Michael thrust deeply, his orgasm building, his eyes staring at his dark shaft as it disappeared into her, grinding against her cervix, his groin pressed against her throbbing pussy and ass-cheeks as he felt his hot seed racing through his cock-veins.

"Ahhh... god...Fuck...Yessss....." he moaned loudly as he exploded into her. The waves of lust and pleasure spilled over him as he continued to thrust her softly, slower, slower. Michael, relaxed and glowing, pushed Lisa down and laid over her, feeling her warmth, her deep, soft, breathing, his face buried in her blonde curls, damp with sweat. He felt himself slip from her soaking wet slit, his cock thick on her thigh. Michael pushed himself off her and gathered Lisa into his arms, embracing her and kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her closed eyes. "Mmmm...that was nice..." She whispered sleepily, "Hold me..."

Lisa, completely spent, droopy, murmured, "You're wonderful...that was wonderful...", and closing her eyes, drifted off to sleep. Michael released his embrace, and watched her as she rolled to her side, fast asleep. He marveled at her, her nude, lithe, firm, ivory body that she had given so willingly, so completely, to him. He continued to gaze on her, drinking in her wanton nakedness while he extinguished the candles and turned off the TV. He was satisfied. He'd done it. His birthday triumph was now complete.

Michael laid down, his hands behind his head, his mind reeling from drink and sex, suddenly sleepy, certainly sated. He pulled the sheet over them, covering her, curled into a fetal position, deeply sleeping now. Michael, rolling and stretching, shut his eyes. "Remember...You're waking her up early and getting her out of here..." He made a mental note, "No breakfast, no stupid small talk, just call her a cab..." Michael drifted off to sleep, thinking, "Besides, when she sees what I left her, she'll know..."

A small, bright sliver of light filtered through the blinds, snapping Lisa awake. Her head felt thick, her mouth dry, as she felt a hazy waking moment of panic. She? Was in a strange bed? Oh shit. Lisa sat up, her bleary eyes taking in the scene. Michael, softly snoring, his face buried in a pillow, golden and nude, the messy bed, the half-burned candles... "Last night was real..." Lisa slid her feet to the floor swiftly and tip-toed to the bathroom. She hastily slipped on her capri's, and pulled her tank top over her head with one smooth motion. Gathering up her bra and panties in her hand, her inner voice was blaring a warning, "Get out... Now... Before he wakes up...Get gone..." Lisa padded silently to the living room, stuffing her underwear into her bag, swiftly checking to see if her keys and cell phone were still where she left them. She crept towards the door, picking up her sandals while she turned the front door handle slowly, pulling it open. "Thank god, no creaking..." She thought, her heart pounding, as she softly shut the door behind her. Lisa checked the hall. "No witnesses. Good to go..."

She decided to take the stairs, stopping to slip on her flip-flops as the fire door snapped shut behind her. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisa exited the stairs and fled the lobby. No one had seen her. No one needed to know, but Lisa. She was victorious.

Stepping onto the street, the morning bright, already hot and humid, Lisa blinked against the sunshine. "It's only a few blocks...this way?" she thought, and turned in the direction of her shop, her safe sanctuary, where her car was. She needed to get home, to think, to revel in her newly awakened libido. It was back. With a vengeance. Lisa felt breathless as she rounded a corner. She was walking fast, too fast in the heat, with her head pounding, still a little woozy.

"Ok, you're out of sight now... you can rest ...," she thought, slowing her pace. The hot sun felt good on her body, stiff and sore from last night's activities, and she stopped to stretch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Good god, I'm thirsty..." she mused, licking her dry lips, "I could use some coffee..."

Lisa started walking, crossing the block over to a little coffee shop that was down a couple of streets. She hoped, prayed, they'd be open this early on a Sunday.

"It isn't that early," Lisa thought, "Shit, it's already after nine..." as she glanced up at their clock through the door. They were open, and Lisa pushed open the door to the sweet aroma of coffee. Lisa caught her reflection in a mirror by the door as she entered, thinking, "Yipes...you look tough...let's take it to go...." She stepped to the counter, watching the waitress as she cut pieces from a cake and placed them in the old-fashioned, rotating glass display case next to the till.

"What'll ya' have, honey?" the waitress trilled, setting down her knife.

"I'll have a coffee...Black...to go...Ok?" Lisa said, smiling, looking at the rotating display, "That cake looks yummy...What kind is it?"

"It's white cake with buttercream frosting, just made, for today. We've got a gal that makes 'em for us...They're the best in town, I swear..." the waitress smiled back. "The best...."

"Buttercream on white...Umm...I'll take it...Can I have it to go, too?" Lisa smiled and thought, wickedly, "Isn't that what they call an Asian guy on a white girl? How... deliciously...ironic..."

"That'll be $4.59. with tax, hun," the waitress said as she passed the styrofoam cup and the paper-wrapped cake to Lisa and held out her hand for the money. Lisa pulled a five dollar bill from the pocket of her pants and told the waitress, "Keep the change... Thanks!"

She stepped back out onto the street, back into the bright, warm day. Sipping the coffee, popping sweet, sticky bits of cake and frosting into her mouth as she walked, her head began to clear, her step lighten. The memories of last night came back to her in a rush, the wine, the conversation, the wild, passionate sex. "Last night was great, wasn't it?" she mused, "Totally worth it...Totally." She spotted her block now, nearly there. Swaggering, just a bit, Lisa stopped to polish off the last bit of sweet, sticky cake, licking the frosting from her fingertips, lost in the delicious memory of last night, "Butter on cream...Indeed," she smirked to herself, " They call it...Butter on cream..."

Michael woke to the brightening day outside his blinds and threw his arm over to the other side of the bed, feeling for her. "Hey," he said sleepily, "Wake up..." Not finding her, her side of the bed ice-cold, Michael sat up. "Hey," he called, "You here?"

There was no answer. Michael swung his feet to the floor and quickly padded into the living room. Her bag was gone. She was gone. He suddenly thought of the check, the one he'd returned to her. Last night, while she was in the shower, before they made love, he'd stuck it back in her purse, drunkenly, as a going-away present. He thought she'd be flattered, pleased at his generosity, "Isn't that how it goes with girls like that?"

That's what he'd thought last night.

Michael felt suddenly guilty. That he'd changed his mind. That he didn't get a chance to let her know she might not just be for one night, a conquest, a triumph. That he might just want to get to know her better, see her smiles again, kiss her lips, make love to her again. That he really liked her. Crap.

Lisa finally sauntered to her car, savoring her memories of last night, swinging her hips, just a little, still sipping her coffee. Fishing in her bag for her keys, she saw a green slip of paper. "What's this?" she pulled it out, "A check?" It was a check, her check, made out to Michael. Michael Shaw. He'd written on it "THANKS," in big block letters, and ripped it in half. Lisa stopped, slightly smiling, taken aback. She was right, totally right, all along. She was desirable, and men, real men, wanted her, wanted to take her, make her into one of their wanton sex-toys. It wasn't her fault Garrett was gay. She finally knew that she was beautiful, just what men wanted, sweet and sticky, a little rich, a little decadent, melting in your mouth, leaving you wanting more...deliciously...like butter on cream.

END