Shanice had butterflies dancing in the pit of her stomach right as she got up the stairs of her apartment building and even after entering her apartment as she undressed herself and then went into the bathroom to wash the remains of the evening from her skin. She rested her head on the shower stall, feeling her hand over her erect nipples and wishing Eric was here to make her feel good. Her thumb and forefinger played with her tits while one hand went between her legs to massage her pussy and within moments she was murmuring soft moans of desire. Her middle finger slid into the warmth of her pussy, turning her moans into a yearning sigh. How she wished she hadn't let go of him when she climbed down from his car. He ought to be here with me right now, taking care of me, she thought to herself.
Done with her bath, into her bedroom she went and still the mass of butterflies won't quit their flutter. The night was a never-ending sight as she rolled from one end of the bed to the other. Each time she turned to glance at the opposite side of her bed she saw him lying with his head on her spare pillow, smiling that boyish smile of his at her. Twice she murmured his name in her dreams. Her feet curled in a foetal mode and her hand kept on troubling her pussy, bringing her to slow, screeching orgasm. Her eyes went to her cell phone and she couldn't tell why she resisted the temptation of calling him. Even if she cajoled him to come round and be with her and he refused, just the mere thought of hearing his voice, and him saying something that would make her laugh¬—him being the ointment to her soul¬—or at least say something sweet that would knock her off to dreamland.
He was everything she'd ever wanted in a man; all that she'd always dreamed of finding. Her eyes can still vividly imagine the bold outlines of his face: the tranquil blueness of his eyes—how those eyes seem to look into the very depth of her brown skin, and how she feels lost every time she gazes into his eyes like someone lost in an ocean current—the solid gentleness of his words and voice; there is the caress of his hand when they touch, the spark of electric it made her feel when they first kissed ... Though who would have thought he would be far from what she'd always desired. That she would ever end up dating a white boy was seldom a thing she'd ever given herself time to ponder on. It felt so much like she was still locked in a dream—an Alice lost in the deep woods of Wonderland—she wondered if she would ever make it out of the maze. Would her Prince Charming ever remain true or would it all turn out to be nothing but a dream?
That last thought made Shanice open her eyes and sit upright, her hand fumbling for her bedside table lamp's switch and then finally finding it and depressing the button, bringing light to her bedside. There was a trembling in her heart, and her eyes gazed either way of her bedroom as if she'd felt the presence of a ghost lurking about. She realized then that she was breathing heavily. She decided then that she couldn't hold the urge back any longer—she picked her phone and dialled Eric's number. It rang a couple of times unanswered and she was almost about to give up when the line got picked up.¬
"Hi there, pumpkin," came his familiar voice, although it sounded king of groggy like he'd been asleep before she called. Hearing the sound of that voice was like being rescued from drowning.
"I know it's rather late," she said. "I'm sorry for calling so late—"
"As long as it's you calling, there's nothing to be sorry about. How're you doing?"
"I'm doing alright. Was trying to sleep, but I kept having this crazy nightmare and it just wouldn't let me be."
"Oh, sorry to hear that."
"It's okay. The nightmare's gone right now anyway."
"Was I of any help getting rid of it?"
She smiled to herself. "Hearing your voice was all I needed to drive it away. Why else do you think I called you at this hour?"
"I suspect you didn't just call to hear my voice because of a silly nightmare, so why do you confess."
"Confess to what?" she feigned surprise.
"Confess why you really decided to call me up at," he paused for a moment, and then: "at one-forty in the morning. You could have waited till morning to hear my voice."
"Didn't you hear what I said—I had a nightmare."
"Shanice, I know you. Or at least I know a little bit about you that there's more to your calling. Now are you going to come clean, or not?"
"Okay, okay," she grinned at the phone. "I was thinking about you. I wanted to tell you of how much I miss you and that I wished you were here in bed with me. You happy now?"
"Yes, very much happy," he muttered. "You could have said that earlier. It would have made things a lot easier."
"I know, and right now I wish I did. But is it too late?"
At the other end, Eric was silent for a moment. Shanice was about to call out his name to know if he was still there when he returned to the line. "It's never too late. I can still make it to your door, although I'm going to have to come by with my work clothes. Hope you wouldn't mind?"
"Just as long as you're here, I don't care."
"Alright then. Just let me go wash up my face and gather my stuff. I'll be there within the next hour."
"Make it thirty," she said before hanging up.
Eric didn't make it to her place in thirty but thirty-seven, which was far from being an hour. Shanice was groaning like an animal since the moment she dropped down her phone and began playing with herself while wishing for her lover to hurrying up and come be in her arms. She'd buzzed him upstairs when he arrived and appeared at her front door holding his clothes and a pair of shoes along with a little kit bag in his hands. She'd pulled him inside, slammed the door closed and let everything he had in his hands clatter to the floor while she jumped on him and began smothering his lips with kisses. Eric nearly lost his footing and had to rest himself against the door frame so as to obtain a fighting chance of getting back at her; their hands groped and cuddled each other's limb while they wrestled with their lips and flesh. This wasn't the Shanice he'd had dinner with hours ago. No, there was no way this could be her. He told himself that he was currently in the lair of a lioness, a rather hungry lioness, whose intention was to devour him with love and sex ...
And he loved it.
"What took you so long?" she muttered the question even as her lips were all over his face.
"Sorry. Needed to find a good toothbrush," he replied humorously.
They sauntered into the bedroom. Her hands practically ripped his shirt apart while her nightgown went sailing from her head; she slobbered her tongue across his chest, loving the taste of his scent. One of her legs encircled his thigh even as he held unto her and then dumped her on her bed. She pulled him along, not wishing to let go of him even for a second. They rolled over each other on the bed. Her hair fell over her face and she wiggled her lower body against him. His erection pressed against his pants and she took a short break to free his burden into the open, taking his erect cock out and popping it into her mouth. Eric fell his head on her pillow and muttered a loud gasp. There were the sound of Shanice's lips smacking against his erection, followed by her mouth swallowing as much of him as she could. She took in his pre-cum and just about everything else he could afford to offer her as he was at that moment a sacrificial lamb to her altar. The reign of butterflies was back in her stomach, except this time they were floating all around her. This wasn't a dream, she told herself. This was all real—the feel of her lover's body lying on her bed, the musky taste of his turgid cock right now in her mouth, the sound of his moans, and then there's the presence of his hands caressing her hair, pressing her face down to his pubic zone ... this was so very real, and not something in a dream. He was here in her bedroom with her right now, and she was at this moment making genuine love to him. This wasn't their first lovemaking, she knew, but the event seemed rather epoch-making, like the strange sight of the first creature of Dinosaurs on the world. She didn't want this moment to end, thus she kept on sucking him even as he pleaded for her to stop. And then he announced he was about cumming, and still her mouth remained tightly wound around his shaft. She produced throaty moans in her mouth, though they seemed to be coming from a distant part of her. Her other hand stroked his shaft, drawing him towards the precipice. Eric's hands held her head down as his body tensed up and then he cried out a he shot his load like a rocket into the deepest regions of her throat. His semen slammed into the back of her mouth with the force of streaming water, and Shanice gave an involuntary grunt as instinctively her mouth gulped his cum down her throat and then did the same with the continuous spurts he released. Her mouth still held his cock in its warm grip, and it wasn't until she felt him growing weak that she then let him go and slid up the bed to embrace her lover.
"You devilish woman, you," he cooed just as she kissed him. The kiss was long and passionate.
"I hope I wasn't too exciting for you," she said.
"Why don't you look closer, you'll notice you gave me a heart attack back there."
She laughed.
Eric turned her over on the bed—now was his turn to give her a taste of her own medicine.
Her legs he pushed over her head while his lips searched out the sweet nectar of her sex all within the darkness of her bedroom. He didn't require a road map to find it—there was no X marking the spot—but there it was when he flicked out his tongue and she hissed when it connected with her clitoris. He gave her clit a couple more flicks before turning into a dive-bomber and planting his mouth on her gushing juiciness. His lips pursed together and nibbled on the outward jutting flesh that surrounded her labia before resuming to lick her juice. Shanice squirmed and whimpered like one who was at the throes of death. Gladly it would have been for death to arrive at that moment to lay claim to her, except in the deep recesses of passion she knew this was ten times—a megaton times—greater than dying. This was being alive, a rebirth the likes she wishes she could partake in over and over again.
Her hands grasped and caressed her lover's face. She muttered incoherent words to him; her body shook and jived to his beckoning tongue till like an exploding rocket she too arrived at her own moment of climax.
