Jones #2
“Luckily, because it’s not like anything is open in Chinook Woods or Jackson Falls after 9:00 p.m. That’s one thing I definitely miss about home. In Chicago, you can get food at all hours of the night. Somebody is always open. You’re from D.C., right?”
“My family’s from D.C. I’m from Virginia Shore. It’s on the coast.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ve never been there.”
“Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”
“Maybe.”
We rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence as I tried to keep my eyes on the road and not stare at her. I liked this woman.
“You should park,” she told me when we got to her house. “But in the back.”
“Oh, not in ya driveway? We still on this?”
“I’m not trying to hear about you being at my house from Jenna.”
I snickered. “Jenna’s ass has a new distraction. She’s in a relationship with Kylena. She told me that they’re trying to see what they can make happen as a couple.” Once the truck was parked, I climbed out, walked around to her side, and opened the door for her.
Church’s mouth was still open from what I’d just said.
“Close your mouth,” I teased.
“Wow. I’m just surprised, but okay.” She shrugged her shoulders as she dug in her purse for the key to her door. “Well, Kylena is a very pretty girl. She has a big booty, too. I could see Jenna being interested in her.”
“Shit, if you like the way Kylena looks, Jenna was talking about making you part of their equation. I think she said that y’all could be a . . . throuple.”
Church barked out a laugh as she bent slightly at the waist. I watched her ass, and I, for one, noticed that Kylena’s ass didn’t have anything on Church’s.
We walked into her kitchen as I continued. “Jenna said she would love to get her hands on you.”
“Dayum. I thought she hated me.”
“She wants to fuck you. Basically told me that she’s waiting for the opportunity to turn you out.”
“She had a lot to say about me, huh?” She shrugged out of her jacket, leaving her in just the itty-bitty top and miniskirt.
“She did. Told me you look like your pussy tastes like peaches.”
“What?” she practically shrieked. “Not Jenna fantasizing about the taste of my coochie.” She fanned herself. “This is a lot.”
I nodded.
She looked over her shoulder at me and caught the intensity of my gaze. “What did you say to that, Jonah?”
I closed the small distance between us. “I told her she wasn’t lying.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.
“Then she told me that if I get the chance to test her theory, I need to let her know if she was right. And I said, ‘Fuck no.’ Because if I ever get the chance to put my hands on you, Church, I’m keeping everything we do between you and me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I walked us to the island. Once her back was against it, I lowered my head until our mouths were level. “You gon’ let me taste you, lil’ mama?”
“Yeah.” She leaned forward, and our mouths came together. Her mouth still tasted faintly of tequila. I deepened the kiss and savored her. I made sure that if this was the only time I ever got to kiss her, I was going to make it memorable.
She whimpered, and I tried to devour her.
Her hands found my chest and moved slowly over the contour of my pecs.
I didn’t know what she did that shit for, because it just helped to send both my brain and my desire into overdrive.
My hands found the hem of the little ass skirt she wore, and I tugged it up.
Church had hips, so the skirt didn’t just glide up, but I got it where I needed it to be.
Then my fingers found the seat of her panties.
When I touched the fabric, I felt her shiver.
I moved my mouth from hers. “Is this cool?”
“Uh huh,” she agreed before reattaching our mouths.
Her panties were wet, but I couldn’t judge her for that.
My dick was straining against my drawers.
I made contact with the soft folds of her.
She moaned in my mouth, like a woman in need.
She was dripping and slippery: evidence that she needed what I was giving her, and her last man probably didn’t take care of her.
I broke the kiss. “Oh, she wet, wet.” I moved my fingers around so we could both hear the sound her arousal made. “Tell me what you need, pretty mama. I swear I’ll give it to you.”
Her face was buried in my neck, and her breath was warm against my skin.
I slowly inserted one finger, and then another.
She opened to accommodate me. As I was about to insert a third finger, Jenna’s words came back to me.
I pulled my fingers out of Church so I could get a taste.
So that I could decide whether the flavor was peach or something else.
As my fingers left her, she followed them with her hips.
She groaned low—a sound filled with disappointment.
“I’m sorry. I just gotta taste you.” I dipped both fingers into my mouth and savored her. It wasn’t necessarily peach, but she still tasted good as hell. “That’s not enough. This has to go.” I ripped the lacy panties from her body, lifted her onto the island, and laid her back.
I hoisted her thick thighs over my shoulders and spanked her clit with my tongue before pulling it into my mouth.
Swirling my tongue around her center, I made it even creamier than it already was.
Then I licked and sucked, licked and sucked, licked and sucked until she started to writhe under my attack.
She started to wiggle beneath my mouth. Her back arched, and her hips rolled against my face.
My name floated from her lips and out into the space, sounding like a plea, like an entreaty, like a request, and I loved that shit. It caused me to go harder, to lick her more slowly, to curl my tongue and nibble her clit.
Her hands went to the back of my head and pressed me deeper into her pussy.
She opened her legs wider. She moaned more loudly.
She rode my face while I tongue-kissed her sensitive bud.
We stayed like that, with me pleasuring her in the most intimate way.
But soon enough, her moans picked up—grew louder—and her body noticeably tensed before she relaxed and flooded my mouth with the sweetest nectar.
I licked her clean while she trembled and rode waves of ecstasy until they subsided.
“Jonah,” she panted.
“I’m here, pretty mama.” My arms were wrapped around her waist, and my head rested on her heaving stomach. “You taste good as fuck.”
“Don’t tell Jenna,” she joked.
“Hell nah. Never.”
“I’m tired.”
“You didn’t even eat,” I reminded her.
“I’ll eat in the morning.”
I slowly stood up. “I’ma head out.”
She sat up straight. “You don’t have to go, Jonah.”
“Yeah, I do. I know you ain’t drunk, pretty mama. But you did have a lot of tequila tonight. If I stay, we’re gonna end up fucking. I’m not tryna be on that with you in the state you’re in.”
She looked off to the side for a second, and when she looked back at me, I could tell she’d made a decision. “I’m not one to beg, . . . or even ask twice. So, if you gotta go, you gotta go.”
I helped her down from the island, surprised that her independent ass even let me. I kissed her lips. And again, she didn’t fight it. “I’ll see you around.”
“Whatever, nucca.”
I laughed as she walked me to the door. “Look,” I told her before I stepped over the threshold and out of her house. “I’m not tryin’ to reject you.”
She held up a hand to stop me. “I get what you’re doing. You’re doing what I can’t do, because the liquor and my coochie have me in a chokehold. You’re trying to be a gentleman.” She said the word mockingly, but I could tell she wasn’t really upset.
“Yeah, that. And it’s new for me, so I’m tryin’ really hard not to fuck it up. I want a real shot at you, so I can’t fumble it on an intoxicated fuck that you might or might not regret later.” I kissed her soft-ass lips one more time. “Be easy, my baby.” Then I walked to my truck.