Best Black Women's Erotica by Blanche Richardson Read Free Book Online Page A

initials in a sidewalk patch of wet cement back when they were courting. Together forever, he’d said. She poured more gel onto her washcloth and rubbed it over her body, shivering slightly at its coolness against her skin. She moved the towel in circles around her neck, down her back, over her shoulders and breasts. She raised one leg then the other and washed up to her toes.
    Before she rinsed, she got up on her knees so that her vagina was just above the surface of the water. She added a little more gel to the washcloth and rubbed it between her legs and over her round behind. Your ass is mine, he often teased her. She smiled at the thought and began moving the cloth slowly back and forth between her legs. The cool air above her waist contrasted with the warm water around her hips and she arched her back to get the full effect of the sensation. She closed her eyes and began rotating her hips back and forth, pressing them into the hand that held the cloth.

    â€œCan I join you?”
    â€œShit!” she shrieked, startled. Her husband stood naked in the bathroom doorway, holding two icy margaritas.
    â€œI remembered we used the last of the mix and how much you like a good margarita,” he said.
    She was embarrassed—how long had he been standing there? “You scared the hell outta me!” She lowered her body back into the water and began to wash again as though that was all she’d been doing when he appeared. She dipped her cloth into the water and squeezed it out over her shoulders to rinse away the thick lather. She watched him walk towards her, his stiffening penis just about eye level. She was proud that she could still do that to him, pleased that he was watching her watch him.
    â€œSee something you like?” he asked with a cocky attitude, placing the margaritas on the sink.
    â€œOh, yeah,” she blushed coyly, “I see a whole lot I like.”
    He reached down and cupped her breast under the water, then raised it above the surface, letting the water run off it. When she responded with a quiet moan, he gently pinched her nipple. Her body trembled as if suddenly chilled and his thick chocolate dick rose and jumped in reply. They both recognized the sound drifting through the doorway as the end of Erica Badu’s last song on the CD. “I’ll be right back,” he said, standing up and walking toward the door.
    â€œDamn!” she said. Her eyes were glued to his muscular back, firm behind, and strong thighs as he moved out of the room. “He is so fine.” She thought of what possibilities the night held. She couldn’t remember the last time they were able to make love without the kids around. Just think how adventurous they could get with the whole house to themselves.
    By the time he returned she had rinsed herself off with the shower massage and was stepping out of the tub. “What took
you so long?” she said as Luther Vandross’s voice spilled into the room.
    â€œI had to talk to Luther,” he said, “and tell him what kind of sounds we wanted to hear tonight. He said he could handle it.”
    They both laughed. Her eyes followed her husband’s hand to his dick and she was disappointed that he was now limp. She took it as a challenge—one she was definitely up to. She turned away from him and slowly and deliberately bent over the tub—much further than she needed to. She took her time turning on the faucet to replenish the hot water. Before she could straighten back up, he was behind her, his hands on her waist, pulling her hips onto his awakening penis. He pressed against her a little harder, bending his knees slightly to make sure he could slide along her pussy at just the right angle, but she stood and moved behind him, gently urging him towards the tub.
    â€œYour turn,” she said.
    â€œAw, Baby,” he pleaded, reaching behind him to grab her. “I just wanna feel it.”
    â€œYou will,” she