We spill out of the club in a wash of laughter and Samara stumbles across the parking lot in her red heels, a drunken African goddess. Rekha grabs a fistful of her dreadlocks, wrenches her head back, licks her ebony face and playfully slaps her ass. Pounding dance music, acrid cigarette smoke and the clamor of voices cling to us like ghosts as we dance out into the chilly, autumn night; the women hold hands and twirl under a canopy of bright stars. Rekha pulls the tall Nigerian woman into a deep kiss, pushes her against our parked SUV, and they forget me until Samara breaks away, panting. "I'm coming home with you," she says, white teeth flashing like lightning in her dark face.
Rekha shoots me a questioning glance and I nod, a knot of anticipation growing in my stomach; my dick is already twitching with anticipation. I drive and the women sit behind me, purring and whispering, the wet, frantic sound of their kissing making me want to pull over and crawl back there to push between and inside of them. It's hard to watch the road in front of me because I keep stealing glances into the backseat where Samara's red skirt is up around her wide, smooth hips, my wife's hand busy between her thighs.
When we finally get back to our house, I light fat, white candles that smell like vanilla when they burn and the women, laughing, fall onto the divan in a tangle of legs. I pour big glasses of red wine and lean against the wall, watching the women wrestle, play, and laugh.
Samara unbuttons Rekha's shirtdress, licking her neck and murmuring softly with every inch of exposed, olive skin. My wife has small, firm breasts and isn't wearing a bra. Samara scratches her nails across them then sucks a dusky nipple between her red lips. My heart pounds. I crouch beside the divan, so close I can taste the sweat and perfume coming off of the women. I pull my dick out and stroke it, slowly, my balls already full and tightening.
Samara looks up at me from where she is nuzzling my wife's nipple and winks, lifts her mouth to kiss Rekha hard and slow, then growls. I get even closer, my dick straining, eager for my wife's invitation to play. Samara pushes Rekha away, laughs while she pulls off her own dress, and returns her mouth to my wife's neck, shoulders, nipples, and stomach, sliding her tongue down to the dark, wet tangle of her pussy. She licks Rekha tentatively at first, playful and coy, smiling when my wife whines with anticipation. Samara moves her tongue slowly, pushing it deep into my wife's pussy, tracing the cleft of her sex with the gentle caress of a lover and tasting the sweet musk that I've come to crave. Samara purrs and licks her lips, pushes her finger inside Rekha and then sucks it clean before burying her face. Rekha spreads her legs and lifts her thighs, opening herself to the woman's tongue and fingers, panting, biting her lip, eyes rolling madly. My wife tangles her fingers in Samara's thick, honeyed braids, grinds her hips against her mouth, throws her head back and squeals. Samara's thick, round ass is swaying seductively just inches from my face and, while she's eating my wife's pussy, one of her hands is busy fingering her own wet slit.
Rekha turns eyes the color of rust towards me and smirks, flicks her tongue. I'm like a dog waiting for permission from his trainer, set to explode into frenzied action, every molecule taut with electric excitement; she finally, lovingly, gives it to me with a nod and sly grin. Right then, with my wife watching me, something like a large, bristling eel tries to shove its way out of Rekha's mouth and between her lips; she swallows hard, a spiky tumor sliding down her throat, and I hesitate.
"Come play with us," she moans. "I want to watch you fuck her, baby."
Samara is rubbing her own clit between two long, black fingers, her thighs damp and sticky where she's dripped her desire. I massage her ass in my hands, spread her cheeks, and dip my head to push my tongue into her salty-sweet pussy from behind. She startles, surprised, but then eagerly wiggles her ass back against my face, giving my tongue a deeper reach into her pussy.
Rekha smiles, watching me lap at Samara's sex, her eyes heavy and enigmatic. It's not long before my wife lifts Samara's bobbing head, licks her face clean, and asks, "Do you want my husband to fuck you, baby?"
Samara giggles shyly at first but then Rekha bites her cheek, hard, making the woman whimper. Just as quickly my wife kisses her again, grinding their lips together and reaching down to pinch the Black woman's hard nipples. "Do you want to get fucked, baby?" Rekha murmurs in the space between wet, heavy kisses, not letting the woman answer. "Do you want us to use you, tonight? Do you want him to drain his balls into your pussy and for me eat it all out? Do you want us to fuck you? Say it, baby, that's right. Say it, again, louder."
"I want you to fuck me," Samara whispers, looking back at me over her shoulder. "I want you to use me."
I'm already slamming my throbbing dick into Samara before she can finish her sentence; she groans with pleasure as I bury myself as deep as I can go, slide out, and slam into her again. Her wet pussy is hot and tightly muscled, snatching my dick eagerly with every thrust. Rekha pinches her nipples, licks her face while Samara moans and pants, and then pushes her gasping mouth back down between her thighs. I grab the woman's wide, black hips and hammer my dick into her even harder, making her body buck with each thrust; she writhes frantically with orgasm, whines and growls, her tongue slamming into my wife's pussy with every shuddering stroke. Rekha's orgasm is heralded by a choked cry, her pussy gushing wetness that Samara excitedly laps up, even licking and nuzzling my wife's thighs until every drop has been tasted.
