"Whitney, can I talk to you for a minute?" Michael asked.
Whitney glanced at her friend Robyn, who also was at the table. It didn't take a genius to see that Michael wanted to speak with her in private. "Yeah," she said, removing her cloth napkin from her lap. "Rob, I'll be back." The other woman simply nodded.
Michael and Whitney left one large room and went into another. This time, instead of the dining room, they now occupied his study. Michael opened the door for Whitney and closed it once he was inside as well. He watched as Whitney looked around.
"You weren't lying when you said you like to read," she said, running her manicured digits along the spines of just a few of the thousands of books in the room.
Michael couldn't help but be amused. "Why would I lie?"
Whitney shrugged, then turned around to eye him. "But I know you didn't bring me here to talk about books. What's up?"
Michael bit his bottom lip. Whitney was already a very attractive woman. Gorgeous even. And her directness often made her sexy, too. He took a couple steps until he had her cornered against one of his shelves.
Whitney's eyebrows lifted. She then broke eye contact, looking to the side and chuckling. "Mikey, what are you doing?" she smirked when her eyes returned to his deep brown ones.
"Why did you bring her?" he asked. He looked upset again like he did earlier when she and Robyn arrived.
"She's my friend."
"I have friends, too, do you see any of them here?"
"Bubbles and them? Yeah."
He stale-faced her.
She laughed and raised her hands in surrender. "I didn't think bringing her would offend you."
Michael held her hands and her gaze. He laid kisses on her knuckles. She shivered slightly when he kissed the skin between her thumb and pointer. His kisses moved to her wrists.
"Michael," she laughed.
"Stop frontin'. You know you remember." He slowly released her hands with a knowing look.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. Michael seized the opportunity to grasp her curly mane and slowly suck her jaw.
"I can't do this now," Whitney managed, pushing him off her. "Maybe I'll come back tonight."
"Why, when you're already here?"
"I'm not gonna fuck you while she's here."
He grinned and tapped his chin. "Okay, and when you come..."
She looked at him expectantly. "Yeah?"
"Wear a dress."
She smirked. "I'll see."
"Wear a dress, Whitney."
"Whatever, boy. So damn bossy." She walked off with a grin of her own.
Michael wore a white T-shirt with slacks, his jet black hair still damp from his shower. He debated wearing his burgundy satin button down. Deciding it was a go, he put it on. As he buttoned the top, his phone rang. It was Whitney, who he met at the door. Thankfully, she was alone, just like she should've been earlier. And she was wearing a dress, just like he requested. Her long legs were on display but the most exciting thing to Michael was what he planned to do to her with said dress on.
He kissed her cheek after they embraced and invited her to his kitchen for wine.
"So, how was the ride here?" he asked, making conversation. They both knew why she was here, but small talk never hurt anyone. Besides, Michael also knew they had all night, so there wasn't a need to rush.
"Long. But I watched a movie, so." She shrugged.
"What movie?"
"When Harry Met Sally."
"Huh. I wasn't expecting that."
"Why not?"
"It doesn't seem like your thing."
She laughed. "It's not. But it was cool. Have you seen it?"
"No," he simply said and went to the fridge. "I don't watch rom-coms." He took out a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. Whitney hid her enthusiasm for the tasty treat.
Michael fed her a sliced strawberry.
"More," she commanded, playfully.
Laughing, he did so.
"Do I have chocolate on my lips?" she asked, poking her lips out.
Michael chuckled and picked up another strawberry before smearing its chocolate on her lips. "Now you do."
She rolled her eyes. "That's rich."
"Not rich, wealthy." He winked and grasped her chin, kissing her. At first, he was gentle, but the kiss quickly turned hungry. Whitney rubbed his chest, kissing him back just as passionately. He kissed her breathless, her lipstick smeared on his own lips. Whitney kind of liked it. She took another sip of wine. And then another.
Michael clapped her thigh.
"You trying to wash out my kiss?"
"What?" Whitney coughed. Michael rubbed her back as she coughed again. She slapped him across his face.
"Damn," he reacted.
"That's for hitting my thigh."
That registered with him. So he bent down and kissed her thigh. Whitney watched and continued to drink as he did so. Michael gave her a smoldering gaze when she spread her legs wider. He left little bite marks on her silky-smooth thighs.
She hissed but didn't protest.
Michael licked over each red spot he made on her skin. She played in his long hair in the process. Her hips bucked when he gave a long lick to the front of her panties. Whitney leaned back and let him move her undergarments down. She bit her lip, watching him look at her exposed glistening sensitive area.
She laughed to herself when he took another chocolate strawberry and moved it towards her sex. "Damn, you a freak."
"For you." He delighted in her moans and cries as he rubbed the fruit on her entrance and sucked it all up. When she released, he then came back up and swallowed down the rest of the fruit. Whitney brought him into a needy kiss, unashamed to taste herself. He picked her up and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, calling him daddy.
"There's my needy girl," he praised. "Let me clean this up quick, okay?"
She agreed and bit her lip, feeling his endowed package rub her own core as she slid back to her feet. She switched her hips out of the room. Michael was fast on her tail. He grabbed her waist, slamming her against his tall frame. From his position, he breathed in her fragrance and shampoo.
Whitney, who felt a chill, grinded back on him. With her dress hiked up, Michael rubbed and dug his fingers on and into her.
"You love this," she commented in bliss as his mouth returned to her sex, savoring her juices once they came.
They made out again as they headed into the living room. He pushed her on the furry rug and she got on all fours.
'That's it, baby," he encouraged.
He kissed the crook of her neck and undid his pants, setting his thick member free. He came behind Whitney, teasing his 'head' at her dripping entrance. He was visibly drunk with lust as he filled her with his long length, his girth automatically stretching her. She was so tight and he was so endowed that her walls convulsed. Michael rubbed her body and held himself inside her for another moment before slowly moving in and out.
The harder his hips moved, the deeper he filled her. He felt amazing to Whitney and his grunts only enhanced the experience. When he pulled out, Whitney reached her hand back to fondle his manhood including his sac. His length stuck out like an arrow and brushed against Whitney's smooth peachy ass. He teasingly grinded on her rear. She laid down on her stomach, Michael kissing all over her back and shoulders.
"Tired already?" he asked, massaging her buns.
"No, I'm waiting for you," she said with a touch of impatience.
"You're okay with that?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Michael."
He carefully rested on top of her and concentrated on gliding his dick in between her ass cheeks, his sac rubbing her bottom cheeks. Her mouth opened in agony as he penetrated her backdoor, albeit slowly. That hole swallowed him. Whitney whimpered.
"Want me to stop, baby?" he asked.
"No."
"Okay. Let me know."
He lightly worked her. "You're so fine."
She let out a series of grunts as he slowly rocked her cavity.
He was slow to withdraw from her clenching abyss as he painted it with his seed. The sensation spurred on the woman's own climax. She looked to be in pain but was only enduring pleasure as Michael strummed her sex as she let go.
"I want a shower," she voiced after a couple beats.
"Come on."
He helped her up and carried her to his bathroom. They washed their respective bodies and Michael hugged her afterwards as they rinsed off under the stream of the showerhead.
When they dried off, she got down on her knees in front of him.
She caressed his balls for a while before licking his tip a few times. Michael inhaled and exhaled and let her go at her own pace.
He brought her up a moment later and kissed her tenderly. She kissed him back and told him to lie down. He looked delicious gazing up at her with his bedroom eyes and naked body. She pecked his neck and chest as he massaged her buns again.
The pair moaned simultaneously when she lowered herself onto his stiff pole. She circled her hips with him inside her and gradually lifted herself up and down. Michael enjoyed the beauty of it all. Her beauty. With a steel grip on her hips, he thrusted upwards. They established a rhythm with Whitney bouncing harder and harder on him.
"Damn, girl," Michael breathed out later.
Whitney laughed some, rubbing his chest as she cuddled atop him.
"I knew you missed it," the man added.
"I knew you did too. You couldn't wait."
He laughed. "Can you blame me?"
She met his eyes and smiled. He kissed her forehead.
"I swear you have more rhythm in the bedroom," he mused.
Whitney hit him and he frowned but chortled.
"Hey," he said softly, squeezing her hips. "It's not an insult."
Whitney didn't say anything but allowed him to stroke her skin. Michael pulled her into an easy, lingering kiss. Gradually, he rolled her onto her side, and then her back.
She just gazed back at him, awaiting his next move. She hummed when his swelling member re-entered her depths, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. The way he handled her this time was as if he were making love to her.
When she reached down to stroke his balls, he felt himself becoming raunchy again. She was unleashing his inner beast.
"Fuck!" she groaned as he restrained her arms with a single hand and pounded her into the mattress.
"The next time you have sex, I want you to remember me," he said as her juices seeped onto his rod.