Party Stand

**It should be noted that all characters are above 21 years of age.**

*

The night life was what Noemi Rogers and her cousins were all about. Raised by her Aunt Helena and Uncle James after her own mother was killed in a freak car accident, her cousins Taron and Serene had eventually taken her under their wing and inducted her into their world of music, parties, drinking, and dancing.

'No drugs,' they'd warned her. 'That shit'll mess you up. No drugs or we'll beat you.'

She had a sneaking feeling they'd meant it.

Three and five years older than her, respectively, they'd kept an eye on her when she started hanging with them around sixteen years, and ever since then she'd helped host their parties. Her duties were pretty much the same as waitressing at a restaurant; keep the place relatively clean, make sure everyone had food nearby, and charge five dollars a cup whenever anyone asked for a new one.

Despite the fee, everyone always came to her cousins' parties. They had good music, refused to buy cheap food, and kicked the assholes and drunken drama bitches straight to the curb. No one liked a fucked up party.

As for the attire, well, no one cared what you looked like as long as liquor was on the table, but the parties were the only time Noemi really felt like dressing up. She had the good clothes she wore to her classes, and then she had her party clothes. They gave her beauty, attitude, and a snap in her hips that was absent during the regular hours of philosophy and finance. She'd been doing this since she was sixteen, and after five years, she pretty much had her party routine down pat.

Pulling a dark violet sun dress over her head, Noemi smoothed the fabric against her skin, enjoying how the dress stopped just above the knee. She twisted her figure in the mirror and sighed. Her big hips and plush breasts sometimes drew unwanted attention, but tonight, she was going to wrap it around her smooth, coffee skin and wear it like a crown.

Tonight, she was going to get fucked. And she knew exactly who would fuck her.

Noemi didn't normally do one night stands, but technically this wasn't one. She wanted it to be quick, rough, satisfying, and then done. She didn't want a man, she wanted sex, and even fuck buddies tended to fuck things up after awhile. Thus the name.

She ran her fingers through her straight mane, cut right at the top of her shoulder, and brushed on a bit of eyeshadow that made her doe browns as sweet as chocolate. Grabbing a pair of black, knee-high, stiletto boots—a gift from Serene and Taron on her seventeenth birthday—she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her aunt and uncle always took a personal weekend once a month, and those were when the parties were typically held. Since Serene was out shopping, the only beings in the house were her, Taron, and a crabby cat who liked to hide under her bed, called Tabby.

Noemi heated up some rice and chicken from dinner the night before—neither her nor her cousins ate much during the party hours—and made a plate for Taron, who came in shortly after her.

Taron let out a low whistle, checking her out. "You did the do today, baby cousin," he said, giving her a once over. "You trying to get a man tonight?"

"And for tonight only," Noemi said, handing him his plate of food.

"Who you going after?"

She shook her head and lowered her eyes, taking a bite of food. Serene had better hurry up; it was almost eight, and people started arriving around nine, expecting food, booze, and loud music.

"Uh-huh," Taron said around a mouthful of food. "Renee said she saw you checking out Kenny and Tony. Which one is it?" Renee was his girlfriend of the fortnight. Despite her light-skin, curly-hair, and beautiful lips, Taron would probably have a new one by tomorrow; he tended to go through girls like rock stars went through eyeliner.

"None of your fucking business!" Noemi snapped at him. "She only thinks it was Kenny because he decided to feel up on me. I told him if he tried it again, I'd make him chew his own balls."

Taron out his hands in surrender. "My bad, girl. You do look good, though."

Noemi gave him half a smile. "And what about you? It's been what...two weeks with Renee? You switching over?"

He sat back in his seat and rubbed his head. "Nah. I'm thinking I might hang with her a little longer. She got a nice booty."

Noemi smirked. "You actually like her."

"So?"

"Never figured Taron Rogers to be a one-woman man."

"When I'm looking for that one woman, I'm not."

Serene walked in before Noemi could respond, lugging three bags of groceries in each hand. "Taron, there's a few more bags in the car, and cat food in the front seat. Noemi, come and help me unpack these. I saw Jacob and Marcus picking up some beer at the store, and they'll be here in a few minutes, no doubt."

She turned to the fridge, spotting Noemi's outfit. Raising an eyebrow, she put her hands on her hips and said, "You trying to get you some, aren't you?"

"I told you, Noemi," Taron said, putting his groceries on the table. "Everybody tonight's gonna know what your after, and the boys ain't gonna leave you alone."

Putting a case of hotwings on the counter with a little more force than necessary, she said, "What's the difference between how I'm dressed tonight and how I dress for the other parties?"

"It's all in the way you carry yourself," Serene replied, opening the fridge. "You're walking tall and thick, and your carrying yourself like a real woman. You got what a lot of bitches don't, and that's knowledge of what you want."

"It's what a man likes," Taron added. "It's what Renee got."

Serene snorted. "Renee has some big titties, that's what she has."

"Excuse me?" someone said. Noemi looked towards the back door as Renee herself walked in, carrying more groceries.

"I hope some of this is for us and not just the party," Noemi muttered.

"Hey, baby," Taron said, kissing her lips.

"What's this about my titties?" Renee wanted to know.

"They're beautiful," he answered with a sheepish grin.

"And they better be the only beautiful titties you know of, too," she said, pursing her lips.

"Ya'll done got me in trouble with my woman," Taron muttered, carrying the cat food out of the kitchen.

Renee and Serene laughed while Noemi grinned. They could be pain in the asses sometimes, but she couldn't doubt that her family loved each other.

Fifteen minutes later people started arriving for the party, and Noemi spent the majority of the time between the kitchen, the livingroom, and the backyard. She loved doing this, being part of the night scene, seeing the laughter, the intimate dancing, the people throwing back beers and hotwings...She could, however, deal without Jones Baker, a narcissistic womanizer who liked to tease Noemi.

She held her hand out for his cup, but he played with her, holding it just out of reach.

"How you doing, baby girl?" he asked, eyeing her up and down.

"I'm not your mutherfucking baby girl, that's for damn sure. You want some liquor or not?"

"I want something, but it ain't the damn liquor." He grinned at her.

Noemi turned and started to walk away.

"Wait, where you going?" he asked, lunging and grabbing her arm. "You gonna pour my drink or what?"

"Get the fuck off of me," she said through gritted teeth.

He hesitated, his grip tightening for a second. And then his eyes flicked to something behind her, and he let her go. "I just wanted some fucking beer," he muttered, backing away. Noemi turned to see who her knight in shining armor was, her mind set on thanking him and walking away. If only it had been that easy.

Antony Miles, called Tony, smiled down at her, his teeth white against his dark skin. He was the finest brother Noemi had ever laid eyes on, dressing well, going after a college degree, and pretty much the black woman's IBM: Ideal Black Man.

Unfortunately for the women—and fortunately for Noemi—he went through girls faster than Taron did. It was a 'come, fuck, go' lifestyle for him, and one that suited him. No one could remember the last time Tony had had a woman over to his house besides his mother and sister, because as a rule he usually didn't allow them over. But despite his sexual history, every girl was hoping to be the one that changed him, the one that he kept.

Noemi didn't want to be kept. She wanted to be fucked.

"Thanks, Tony," she said, walking with her empty beer pitcher back to the kitchen. He followed her, holding the door open.

"How've you been, Ms. Noemi?" he asked, helping her fill more pitchers and putting them in the fridge.

"Everything's everything my way," she answered. She poured some ranch into the middle of a hotwing tray and placed it on the table. Facing him, she asked, "What about you?"

His gaze dropped down to her lips, and then he met her eyes. "I could be better," he said with a shrug.

Feeling her body grow warm, Noemi gave him a small smile and picked up two pitchers. "Well, I hope everything works out for you," she said, her boots clicking as she walked towards the livingroom.

Tony's eyes followed her. "Me, too."

Opening the door, Noemi barely had time to raise the pitchers up and out of the way before she was bombarded by someone's big, burly body. She laughed, looking up into the dark eyes of her best friend, Michael "Big Mike" Bridges.

She'd known him ever since the day she'd moved in with her cousins. Despite Mike being a little bit on the heavy side, he too had women flocking to be with him. A charming personality, coupled with old-fashioned romantic notions made him much loved in the female community. It also had its downside, though; Mike was only twenty-one, and he already had two daughters.

"What it is, baby girl?" Mike greeted, kissing her on the cheek. "You look good." He took both pitchers from her hands, and in less than five minutes there was not one unhappy boozer in the room. "How's college treating you?" he asked her back in the kitchen.

"I'm pretty sure I'm flunking philosophy, but other than that it's good."

"You know, I always figured deep thinking wasn't your style," he said with straight face. "You should've taken those polka lessons they were trying to get you into."

Noemi shoved him and laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mike. I'll let you know when my first polka recital is."

"Deal," he said. "Now, I gotta go find Shawnee. She got my baby girl somewhere 'round here, listening to all this bad-mouthed rap music." Shawnee was the mother of Mike's second child, Keisha, who was almost two. His first baby's mama had decided to share custody since Mike was a good father, but other than that she rarely dealt with him or his usual crowd of friends.

Shaking her head at her friend's antics, Noemi went upstairs to use the bathroom. There was one downstairs that she could've used, but normally she didn't. Besides the fact that it was always occupied, it tended to smell after dozens of people had used it. Even with matches, two cans of air spray, and the ventilation fan going all night, Taron, who was the only one brave enough to clean it, would still come out gagging.

After using the toilet, Noemi stood in the mirror, fixing her dress, wiping scuffs off her boots, and applying a dab of lotion to her elbows and knees. Tonight had been partially successful. She'd felt eyes following her around all night, and twice she'd had to crack someone in the head with an empty beer bottle for grabbing her ass.

Well, she couldn't say she hadn't been expecting the attention. Every woman with a big ass received it, and it wouldn't be the last time she'd had to get in someone's face. Sighing and wondering about the sense of men—if there was such a thing—she pulled her hair up into a messy bun.

Someone knocked on the door. She waited and kept quiet, hoping they'd go away, but they knocked a second time. "Someone's in here!" she called. "Go use the bathroom downstairs!"

"Noemi," a low voice said.

She knew that voice, and as she thought about it, now was as perfect a time as any. Opening the door, she looked into the sweet, dark eyes of Tony Miles, a small smile on his face. "I hope I'm not bothering you," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Noemi raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, no, not all. I was only in the bathroom with the door shut, trying to piss in peace."

Tony snorted softly. "Would you like some company?"

"I'm guessing you missed the 'in peace' part," she responded, crossing her arms. "And just to remind you, it's a bathroom. One person at a time is all that's needed."

"You obviously haven't had any good shower sex, then," Tony murmured.

Noemi swallowed, feeling an ache blooming in her lower belly. "Maybe so," she said just as quietly. "And I'm not about to start now."

Tony smiled again and moved closer, his eyes following the contours of her face. All he had to do was lean down, and he could kiss her with ease. All he had to do was kiss her, and Noemi was pulling his ass into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

"What can I do to change your mind?" he asked.

Noemi pretended to think for a bit. "A date."

He frowned. "I don't date."

"I know. Neither do I."

"But you just said—" He paused. "A way to get rid of me?"

"I knew you were a smart one."

"I'd be smarter if I knew how to get you to fuck me."

Noemi couldn't help it; she felt a slow smile spread across her face, and watched as Tony's eyes narrowed in desire. "What makes you think I even want to fuck you?"

"Easy. You want what I want."

"And what's that?"

"A good, hard fuck. Nothing more, nothing less."

That's exactly what Noemi wanted. She looked up at him, her eyes drifting to his lips as she bit her own. Gently, she touched his chest with her hand, caressing the strong pectoral muscle, wishing it was already pressed against her own. She allowed Tony to grab her hand and kiss her palm, his warm fingers moving gently up her arm until they reached her elbow. He pulled her towards him, closing the last few inches between their bodies, claiming her lips with his.

Noemi pulled him into the bathroom and then kissed him again, hungrily, barely hearing him shut and lock the door behind them. With his lips still on hers, she felt him lift her up onto the sink, his hands caressing up her thighs beneath her violet dress. He pulled her to the very edge of the counter and groaned, pressing his cock into the warm junction of her pussy, grinding subtly in a fucking motion.

She could feel the strength of his hard tool beneath his jeans, and thrilled at what it would feel like stroking inside of her. Undoing them, she reached into his pants and boxers and pulled his cock out, her mouth watering at his size.

She licked her palm, dragging her tongue from her wrist to the tips of her fingers, and clasped him in her right hand. Tugging his thick shaft in short, tight strokes, she reached with her left to massage his balls, fingers crinkling in the soft, dark curls of his pubic hair. He began to pump his hips, groaning against her mouth as she sucked his lips.

Giving a deep sigh, Tony reached for her panties, and in one swift move, tore them apart.

"What the fuck?" Noemi snapped, pushing him away. She slid off the counter and reached down to pick up her torn underwear. "Did you really have to go all caveman and rip my drawers?"

Tony's eyes darkened. He took the panties from her and pocketed them. "I'll buy you new ones."

"And what are you gonna do with those?"

He shrugged. "Keepsake."

"I don't think so."

He smiled, a characteristic dimple appearing on his right cheek. "Tell you what," he said, coming towards her. "How about a compromise? You let me fuck you, you can have these panties."

When he was close enough, Noemi grabbed his half-mast cock, giving it a sharp, warning jerk. "Don't fuck with me," she hissed, ignoring his wince of pain.

"But I so want to," he answered, still coming towards her.

Despite her anger, Noemi laughed. "Clever," she said, squeezing the base of his cock gently.

He nodded, his eyes on her lips again. Pushing her against the wall, he lifted up the hem of her dress, gazing down at her pretty, moist cunt, bare but for a thin strip of hair right above her swelling clit. His hands slid up further beneath the fabric, caressing her breasts, flexing his fingers to grip them when Noemi pushed them further into his palms. He let go only to allow her to remove his shirt, and then he was touching her again, pushing his hands into her straight, luscious hair, tilting her head up to press his lips against hers.

Noemi felt as Tony grabbed one of her legs and lifted it wrapping it around his waist and leaving her to balance on her right heel. She arched her back as he slid his dick across her pulsing clit, and then, slowly, into her hot folds. His lips parted in a mascuine groan as her pussy immediately clenched down on him, fighting the intrusion. His thickness urged her to move her hips, and in no time he was pounding into her, sending her ass thumping against the wall.

"Ah, fuck," Noemi whimpered. She felt her cunt walls ripple, grabbing Tony's dick as she came, and holding him in place for several seconds. The strength of her orgasm spread through her, tightening her muscles as she gasped, her leg jerking as she shoved Tony further into her depths.

"Woman, you feel good," he whispered into her ear. His lips moved to her neck, sucking heat to the surface above her pulse as he continued to fuck her.

Noemi's eyes rolled shut as his thrusts became harder, more needy. She began to whimper again, the friction in her pussy building unbearably slowly, the tiny bullet nestled in her glistening folds throbbing furiously. Her eyes met those of her reflection's in the mirror, and the sight of Tony's broad back, and his tight ass clenching as he shoved into her, sent her over the edge again as her body shuddered beneath his erotic assault. She ground her hips against his dick, his low moan only adding to the fuel.

"Shit," he breathed, slowing his pace to prolong the torture. "Look, Noemi."

They both looked down, watching his dark cock slide into her coffee-colored pussy, and then slide out again covered with her nectar. It was a view that made Noemi's throat close, digging her nails into his the corded muscles of his back. "Harder," she said in a gravelly voice.

Tony didn't respond, only granted her wish, concentrating on the feel of the tight molten wetness surrounding his shaft. He felt his balls began to tighten and he thrust harder, going as deep as her sweet cunt would allow.

"Oh, fuck...Tony," Noemi whispered, her eyes shut.

As if his name on her lips was the only thing holding him back, Tony gave a final groan, silencing the sound as he bit firmly onto Noemi's nekc, and broke, his ribbons of his release jetting out with abandon.

Noemi felt it when he came, and she went with him, her pussy convulsing around his solid muscle. Her hips jerked into his last thrusts, and she grunted with pleasure, moving to feel every bit of him.

Tony pulled out slowly, his right hand sweeping a strand of moist hair from her cheek. They cleaned up in silence, their harsh breathing returning to normal after a few minutes. Noemi had her back to him, untwisting her dress straps and readjusting their lengths. When she was finished, she turned around, finger-combing her hair, only to find Tony staring at her.

"What?" she asked, moving in front of him to look in the mirror. She could feel the heat of his body right behind her, and she shivered as it cloaked her, her arms moving to tie her hair into a messy bun.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.

Noemi met his stoic gaze through the mirror, hands on the sink. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, it's a one time question."