Yellow Dress

I'd had a bad year. Furloughed by my job, I had to pick up two part time retail jobs to pay bills. J, my girlfriend of three years, dropped me because I couldn't get over losing my gig. My car had broken down a few days ago.

Like I said, a bad year.

My cousin Mike was a lifeline, though. He hit me every week, brought me food, invited me out to have wings and beers and watch the beautiful women he referred to as "talent." So even though I was in a familiar funk, when he hit me on FaceTime I picked up immediately.

"Get dressed, ugly ass nigga," he said. "We going out. It's talent in the streets."

I told him I didn't know about getting outside. I wanted to just stay home and play games on my phone, drink a few beers, take a nap or something.

"Bro stop playing. Put on some clothes. I'll be there in 30."

"Where we going?"

"Talent scouting, I told you. There's an art show downtown. You know artsy girls be crazy but that pussy be life-changing. And you need a life change."

"Fuck you, man. See you soon."

It was a beautiful spring day. The art show was a open-air street festival and yes, there were a lot of beautiful black women there. All shapes and shades. Food trucks were out, and vendors, many of them also black women, were selling jewelry, honey, and other trinkets at their stalls. The vibe was positively incandescent. I felt the darkness in my soul shrivel up at all the beauty.

"You see?" Mike punched me in the chest. "Fuck all that sad shit. And fuck J, too. You a grown man. Live your life."

I laughed and we entered the festival. The mangonada truck was out and I stopped to grab myself a cup of the spicy, tangy snack. Mike pulled on his vape pen and leered out at the women, blowing kisses. I paid for my food and turned, and that's when I saw her--and forgot about everything else.

She was with her girls, and they all looked delectable. Each woman was dressed in a different color. Hers was yellow. A sleeveless dress the color of the April sun flashed against her beautiful chocolate skin. Her hair was done up in a beautifully perfect, curly black afro puff, and tattoos shined on her arms. I was intoxicated by her curviness, she was short, thick in the hips and thighs, and so so dark. Her eyes spoke of ancient secrets.

My mouth watered, and I hadn't even tasted my drink yet. Our eyes met. She studied me for a moment, then smirked. The flash in her eyes said "follow me" so I did.

"Where you going," Mike said as I stepped away from him.

"Talent scouting."

"Aw shit. Go get her, cuz!"

She didn't make following easy. I caught a flash of yellow in the crowd and stayed as close as I could. Her group of girls rounded a corner at the end of the street, heading to a restaurant, but she went the other direction through a set of iron gates that led into a wooded path. There was a thrill in my chest as I followed her. My drink melted all over my hand. I threw it away, but there was still mango and chamoy all over my fingers.

I found her sitting on a stone bench in a little manufactured clearing. It wasn't completely private--we cold still hear the sounds of the festival in the background--but it somehow seemed secluded enough for us to have a secret moment. It was then that I noticed the wedding ring on her left hand. I pulled up short.

"Uh, hey. My bad, I was...I'm not gonna lie, I got lost in your eyes and decided to follow you. I didn't know you was married, though. I...you are gorgeous. Do you know that? I mean, of course you do, but I just had to say it out loud. Anyway. Uh..."

"I wanted you to follow me," she said, and those six words broke me down to my core. She motioned for me to sit down next to her and I did, holding up my sticky hand.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"We don't need names," she said, and took two of my fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean. I moaned at the unexpected pleasure.

When she kissed me, her lips were sweet and spicy and succulent. I leaned into her, kissing down her neck and on her perfect chocolate collarbone. She smelled like fire and whiskey.

"I could see how much you wanted me from across the street," she said, gasping under my hot mouth. She reached into my lap, squeezed my erection. "And I want you too. It doesn't need to be more complicated than that."

She took my clean hand and guided it to her breast. I could feel her nipple hardening beneath the fabric and I stroked it with my fingers. Her moans were exhilarating. She leaned away from me and opened her beautiful brown legs, revealing that she wasn't wearing underwear. Her pink pussy was slick and inviting, the smell of her wafted to my nostrils. She put a finger to her lips--her nails were the same color as her dress--then pointed that same finger at her exposed pussy.

I dropped to my knees immediately and kissed her thighs. The background noise was a dull buzz as I lapped up her juices with a hungry tongue. I kneaded her thighs as I slurped on her. She tasted better than any delicacy they were serving in the streets.

"Mmm," she purred, rolling her hips against my face. I followed her movements like a devoted puppy. "Does it taste good to you?"

It did, and I showed her. I ate her so good that after a few minutes she could only squeak as she rubbed her juicy pussy on my face and lips. When she came, she gushed on my mouth and tugged my ears. I pulled back after her gasps subsided. My dick strained against my jeans.

She undid my pants, freed my erection, licked the palm of her hand, and began stroking me.

"You got a big heavy dick," she teased. "And it's hard too. You must want this pussy?"

"I do. Oh my god, I do."

"But you don't even know me."

"I don't care. We don't need names."

"You're a smart man," she said. She turned away from me and lifted up her dress, steadying herself with a hand on the bench. Her ass was a statement of beauty. Round, smooth, and moving with the motion of the universe. I kissed both her cheeks, positioned myself behind her, and slid in.

"Yesssss," she moaned. "That's what mama's been missing."

My pants fell down around my knees as I fucked her. Passion and excitement had my heart beating a thousand miles a minute but my stroke was slow and sensual, all hips and whispers. I beat a lustful rhythm as I slid in and out of her, transfixed by the wave patterns moving up her ass each time I pushed myself in deep.

"Don't stop," she pleaded. "Fuck me. I need it."

I took her urgency to heart and strengthened my stroke, giving it to her as hard as my heart was beating. I felt her tense, felt her fight the tensing to receive more of me, then felt her squeezing me as an orgasm rolled through her being. She dropped her head, then looked back at me, her expression exquisite.

My center began to tingle and I knew that I was about to cum too. She had begun to throw herself against me, devouring me, sending me spiraling. It was everything I could do to hold on.

"You better not pull out," she breathed. "Shoot it in me. Fill me up."

With a shout, I released myself inside her, fucking her furiously as my seed drained from my body and into hers. She slid off my erupting dick and took it in her hands, milking the last few drops of my cum into her mouth and licking her lips.

"Mmm," she said, pushing me down on the bench. The stone was cold against my bare ass. "That is exactly what I needed. Thank you. I won't forget you."

She kissed me on the lips, took a few moments to adjust herself, and was gone. After pulling up my pants, I stumbled out of the gates but she was nowhere to be found. Mike was standing across the street. He looked at me and frowned.

"What up man? I was wondering where you got to. You good?"

"You seen a lady in yellow come by here. Short, thick, dark skinned with a curly afro puff?"

"Nah man. She sound bad, though. I wish I'd seen her."

I spent the rest of the afternoon looking for that yellow dress, but I never saw it again.