One Weekend

"Uh-hum..."

She practically rested her head on my shoulder as she nodded at the leaflet and began to read again. The aroma of her perfume seemed to wrap itself around me.

"It says here that the suite is dedicated to all things decadent and indulgent"

A lascivious grin lit up her face as she turned her head towards mine. Her wonderfully thick lips were moist. Kissable. My God. Was I really thinking that? If she edged forward another fraction they'd be on mine. I could still taste her lipstick from her over-jealous greeting kiss. I yanked my gaze back to the leaflet again.

"Go on..."

"It has an eight foot round bed," she said, removing her hand from my thigh at last and pointing a finger at the picture in the leaflet. "A round bed. And eight foot! How 'bout that?"

I nodded quietly. It sounded divine.

"And ... it says here it has a mirrored canopy."

Her elbow nudged my side and she winked at me.

"And it has a luxury en-suite bathroom with a giant plunge bath and..."

Her hand found my thigh again and her fingers squeezed my skin in excitement.

"It has a pole dancing area!!!"

My jaw dropped. I momentarily stared at her and then took the leaflet from her hand. My God, it was true. There it was in the picture on the left, a silver pole. I'd done a pole dancing class when I was a few years younger and stupidly wondered if I could remember some of the moves.

"We're going to love it."

Her words didn't register immediately and when they did my breath caught in my lungs. Had I heard that correctly? We?

"Auntie Mischelle has paid for it," she excitedly told me, "so that we both have somewhere to stay. We can get to know each other better and talk more about the story. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

EARLY EVENING

The suite perfectly fitted the description in the leaflet. It was full of vivid reds, pinks and purples, with lots of cushions, low hanging lights and, yes, a pole.

Brooke had giggled like an excited schoolgirl when we'd entered. Within seconds she had visited every room in the suite—twice—and then returned to the bedroom. Her body had bounced on the mattress as she'd launched herself at the large round bed. Then she had excitedly pointed upwards to the canopy ceiling mirror that matched the size and shape of the bed.

"Look at this, babe," she had chuckled. "We can watch ourselves fuck..."

It had been a joke. Of course it was. But my already soaring temperature had instantly nudged up another few degrees.

We had decided to order room service rather than find a restaurant. That had been my suggestion. I'd thought it would give me the opportunity to quiz Brooke further about her Auntie Mischelle without other distractions. And that it would help me gain more insight into what she was expecting from the story.

Instead, although the evening was extremely relaxing, she had seemed reluctant to say too much about Mischelle other than we were going to see her again tomorrow and that I should thank her for arranging and paying for the suite. It was very generous of her, I had to admit? Maybe I'd misjudged her? Perhaps she was shy?

So we spent a good couple of hours eating a light meal and discussing Brooke's college work and aspirations, and then talked about my writing career.

Eventually I was growing tired and happy to turn in for an early night. I still felt nervous about sharing the same bed as Brooke, but told myself not to be silly and that the eight foot monster left plenty of room for us both.

The bubble bath had been Brooke's idea.

"You've had a long day and it'll relax you before bed," she had eagerly told me. "Ask Auntie Mischelle, I make the best bubble baths in the world."

She'd been so enthusiastic I didn't have the heart to say no.

So here I was, luxuriating in the hot water and letting my mind regurgitate the happenings since I had arrived in Brighton. It was Brooke's relationship with Mischelle that intrigued me the most. Try as I might, I couldn't piece it together. Whose idea had it been for this story? Why would Mischelle punish her? Was that just a figure of speech? What sort of relationship did she and her so-called Auntie have? She had told me that not only did she run her bath, she would bring them wine and sit by the tub, keeping Mischelle company while she took her bath.

The silly thought occurred to me that she might do the same tonight and I felt a warm shiver run through me. What would I do if she suddenly walked in here? I had no idea. But even through the door I could hear her singing along to the music from the radio. She seemed happy enough in her own company.

My thoughts bounced from one to the other and eventually led me to my encounter with Laura Johnson again. Even when I gathered my dark hair in my hands and submerged my head beneath the bath water, it made no difference. The thought stayed with me. The recollections.

Had we actually fucked all night—and in all those different positions?

I'd not only given myself to my first and only female lover, I'd been a full participant. I had been so out of control, in that rarest of places where I didn't give a fuck about a thing except the next orgasm. I could still picture us in my mind's eye—the sight of white flesh and black skin clashing together was so sensual, so erotic and so raw.

Suddenly the sound of Brooke's music became clearer, the noise turned up several notches. It took me a few moments to realise why. The bathroom door had opened.

"Heyyyy..."

I almost creamed myself there and then. Brooke's smile was wide as she walked into the bathroom, but it was her naked body my eyes were focused on. She was magnificent ... slender yet curvy in all the right places, from her full breasts to her toned stomach to the gentle curves of her hips. And if I wasn't mistaken her cleanly shaved pussy was moist, her lips glistening with arousal.

"See something you like?" she chuckled as she caught my gaze.

I felt myself blush but still couldn't draw my eyes away. Her firm young breasts were swaying as she headed towards me, a glass of wine in each hand.

"We didn't finish it all," she told me, handing me my glass.

Her smouldering eyes locked on mine as she carefully placed her wine glass on the end of the sunken tub and gracefully climbed into the opposite side of the bath.

"Want some company?" she simply asked.

Her long black legs stretched down under the water, settling either side of my body. She dug her toes into my waist.

"Would you like me to tell you more about me? For the story?"

I nodded. "Tell me about you and Mischelle."

She pulled her hair high onto the top of her head, fixing it there. Her breasts rose with the movement and I found myself studying her pierced nipples. She'd said that the girl who worked at the Honda dealer—Mira—had suggested she should get them pierced and that she'd arrange a good deal. I needed to hear more of that story, too.

I took a long sip of wine as I waited for her response. The coolness as it slid down my throat was a nice contrast to my body temperature.

Even Laura Johnson and I hadn't shared a bath.

"Why don't I start by telling you more about what turns me on?"

I nodded silently. It was a good compromise. Getting under Brooke's skin and finding out what made her tick was essential to the story.

"I liked being blackmailed," she said, reaching for the soap.

As she began to work a creamy lather into her hands, she rotated the toes of both her feet against my skin. It took a concerted effort to concentrate on her words. Blackmailed, she'd said? I opened my mouth to explore the confession but she had already moved on.

"I like to wear see through clothing and show off my body in public..."

She was working the soapy lather into her breasts now, first the right and then the left. Her hands moved slowly, covering each firm mound. I wondered how hard her nipples must feel in her palms.

"I love it when older men and women get the hots for me..."

She had reached for the soap again. This time, instead of working a lather into her hands, she caressed the soap across her stomach and downwards, under the water.

"I like to oral sex on a women or a man ... that gets my juices flowin'..."

She raised one of her legs and pushed it between mine. I should have thought of resisting but I was captivated by the spell she was weaving.

"I guess I am more submissive but when I want to get my own way I can be dominant."

Her eyes narrowed a little as her arm began to flex just above the water. Was she...

"Tell me, babe," she murmured. "Did you get turned on you while looking at the pictures I sent?"

I could have pretended but there was no point. She could see right through me.

"Who wouldn't?" I replied, trying to generalise.

It didn't fool her. She wasn't even looking for an answer.

"The thought of you writing my story had me rubbing a hole in my pussy last night."

I blinked my eyes in an attempt to stop my head from spinning. She knew exactly how to press my buttons. Was I that obvious? I told myself to get a grip. But her foot was rising higher between my legs and pushing them apart. I knew I should put a stop to this before it went too far. But my legs were widening of their own volition.

Her foot found my wetness. When she ran her big toe along the full length of my opening my heart began to palpitate. I was more aroused than I could ever remember... except for Laura Johnson. What had she said?

"Once you've had black, you never go back."

I stared helplessly at Brooke but she wasn't letting up. She was grinning back at me, as if defying me to resist. I stifled a groan when she gently parted my labia with her toe. When she eased it inside me, I thought I would pass out.

"Do you like that thought, Claire. Rubbing my pussy thinking of you?"

She rotated her toe as she spoke. My body shuddered and jerked. When she repeated the action, I whimpered like a baby. As she twisting the toe inside me a third time, there was no holding back.

The orgasm hit me like a freight train.

She kept the toe inside me as I rose to the summit and then peaked. Her caressing movements were gentler, as if pacing me down from the throbbing intensity. Then before I knew it she was pulling away. With both hands on the side of the tub, she rose to her feet and stepped out of the water.

"Don't be long..." she sexily said.

I watched transfixed as beads of water cascaded down her curvy black body. A tiny drop released itself from her left ear and landed silently on her right breast, tantalisingly making its way down to her erect, chocolate coloured pierced nipple.

I knew then that I was lost.

*

I had waited as long as I could. Every nerve end in my body was taut with expectancy. When, eventually, I had no choice other than to leave the bathroom, I moved uncertainly into the bedroom. It had taken a while to rebuild my resolve and I had decided that we would have to put what had just happened behind us.

Brooke had taken me unaware ... but as much as my personal desire was pouring out of every pore, I needed to be professional if I was to write this story.

But the scene as I moved from one room to the next stopped me in my tracks.

Brooke had stretched herself across the large round bed, her legs spread wide. One hand was squeezing her right breast and the other was busy between her legs. Her eyes were tightly closed, lost to the world. Above me, her reflection bounced back off the mirrored ceiling. There were two Brooke's in the room, both with their fingers busy between their thighs. My pussy flooded.

I told myself to return to the bathroom to compose myself but I remained riveted in place. The rise and fall of her breasts were almost hypnotic. Her pierced nipples looked like they were begging to be sucked. And the wonderful darkness of the skin between her thighs contrasted with the illicit glimpses of pink between the working fingers on her sex.

Her laughter caught me by surprise. Her eyes hadn't been fully closed and I realised with some shame that she'd caught me red handed.

"You like watchin' the lil black girl fuck herself?"

I was too embarrassed to reply. Her words hit the mark and she could see me she struggle with my feelings. It wasn't just that I'd caught her playing with herself ... I'd stood there and watched her like a voyeur when I should have turned away.

"Don't be shy..." she whispered seductively.

She slowly pulled her hand away and examined two of her fingers. They shone wetly in the subdued lighting. She turned them slowly back and forth before slowing dipping them into her wine glass and then took them seductively between her lips.

"Black pussy," she murmured, pulling them free and then holding them out towards me. "The best taste in the world. Would you like to taste?"

I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to help myself. My knees were threatening to buckle but I was suddenly stepping across the floor towards her. When I reached the bed, she presented her fingers to my mouth. I crawled onto the bed beside her and she pressed them against my parted lips.

"That's it, babe. Open up..." There was a sultry edge to her voice.

Like an obedient pupil I sucked at her fingers. The taste was familiar from my experience with Laura Johnson but this was sweeter. She smiled into my clouded eyes as she watched my reaction. It was as if she knew—we both knew—that I'd crossed the Rubicon and that it was a taste I was not going to be able to resist.

Then she was leaning back, resting her elbows on the bed as she spread her legs wider. She pointed down to her sex and then crooked a finger.

My need took over. I dipped my head. It was then that control passed between us. The first lick across her sweet lips was electrifying. It was like giving a reformed addict another. This was what I'd been craving ever since Laura Johnson.

I just hadn't realised it.

Her taste was intoxicating and I frantically pushed her legs wider still. Her skin was like silk—black silk—under my hands. My eyes stared upwards into hers as I began to lap along her labial lips. She was right. It was the best taste in the world.

I couldn't get enough and to begin with there was no finesse. Just frenetic licking. My hands curled around her thighs, pulling her closer. I tilted my head so that I could push my nose into her pussy. The aroma was almost as intoxicating as her taste.

"Yeah, that's it, babe," she groaned out.

She dropped her hands to my hair, gripping it tightly. Her hips began to gyrate on my tongue. She pulled my head up fractionally so that she could stare down into my eyes. The needy look in hers drove my libido higher.

My hands reached up to her breasts, cupping them. The tips of my fingers closed around her nipple rings and I tugged at them. She screamed out her approval.

I was lost. I was found. I was out of control.

I speared my tongue between her labial lips, pushing deep inside. Her whimpers turned into moans. I glanced up again but this time her gaze was fixed on the mirror above us. We must have been quite a sight. I tried to follow her gaze but she yanked my head back in place.

"Keep doin' what you're doin', babe..."

Her legs went around my back and the way she squeezed my head between her thighs forced my tongue even deeper inside. She frenetically was humping her black body up into my face and I was responding like a madwoman. Beads of perspiration prickled my forehead and mingled with her flowing juices.

"Like that..."

"Shit..."

"Oh fuck..."

I was desperate for a breath of air but I wasn't letting up. Neither was she. I could feel her pussy tighten on my tongue. Her whole body was tightening. When the dam burst, it was as if I had been reincarnated.

NEXT MORNING

I turned my head on the pillow to check the time. It was seven am. Brooke was curled up on the bed beside me. She was softly dozing. It had been a long night, an incredible night ... a night when I had found myself again. Each time either of us had drifted off to sleep the other had taken advantage and off we went again.

I reached out and gently tugged on the light sheet across her body. Inch by inch, I uncovered her. A naked black female body was so much sexier than that of a white woman. I had discovered that with Laura Johnson. Brooke reminded me.

I shifted on my side to face her and then shuffled downwards, moving slowly so as not to disturb her sleep. I had other plans to awaken her. Her left nipple was inches from my mouth. It was still hard. The nipple ring, with the little heart hanging down, looked so sexy. I nudged the tip of my tongue towards her and licked across her nipple ... once, twice, enough to bring a soft sigh from her lips.

She fractionally shifted on the bed and my eyes zeroed in on that treasure between her thighs. It was officially mine now.

I licked again at her nipple and slid my hand between her legs. She was warm and wet. Glancing up at the mirror above us, I watched the white woman on the bed start to pleasure the black teenager. It was like watching an adult movie. The viewer knew what was on her mind. The older woman wanted to take advantage of the teenager. The white woman wanted to fuck the black woman while she slept.

My fingers began to play with her pussy, gently caressing her clit. My mouth on her nipple became more active, taking it between my lips and sucking gently. Brooke began to stir. Half conscious, she opened her legs wider and arched her back to thrust more of her breast towards my feeding mouth.

Her eyes half opened and she smiled at me. She was beautiful.

"Oh yeah," she purred and ground her hips upwards against my fingers. "Don't stop..."

I had no intention of stopping. I ran my tongue up her chest and licked around her neck as I worked a finger inside her. She moaned and wantonly spread her legs wider. Everything about Brooke was wanton. I'd never met such an uninhibited young woman. She had told me during the night that she lived to fuck.

"I'll never have enough of you," I whispered in her ear.

Her hand slid down my body and cupped my mons.

"That's what I like to hear, babe," she sexily murmured. "Are you going to put that in my story?"

"I'm going to put in what a great fuck you are," I said with a soft chuckle. "And how you seduced your writer."

I darted my tongue in and out of her earlobe as I spoke. She moaned and responded by pushing two fingers inside me. They entered without any resistance.

"Didn't take much seducin'," she laughed, roughly pumping her fingers in and out of my pussy. "I'd say the little white girl craves black, wouldn't you?"

I groaned aloud at the delicious friction inside me and pulled both knees upwards so that the squelching fingers could reach even deeper. The fact that she could see right through me, could sense my need, made everything even sexier.

"You my bitch now?" she asked with a grin.

I jammed my mouth to hers and kissed her hard. She instinctively knew how to press my buttons. But I was learning how to press hers...

I twisted myself away and surprised her by spreading my body across hers, scissoring our legs together. She gasped out loud. I could feel her heat and wetness as our pussies clashed noisily together.

"No, you're my bitch," I mumbled, pushing myself into an upright position.

I pulled my leg up to my shoulder and stared triumphantly down at her as I began to move my hips. Her eyes stared back but then I realised she was looking past me, up at our reflections in the mirror. I grinded slowly, savouring the moment. The delicious feeling of our bare skin gliding against one another was sublime.

"Whose bitch are you," I asked, surprising myself with my need for control.

Her smouldering eyes found mine. "Yours, babe."