NEW REVIEWS ..... NEW REVIEWS .....
ORDER YOUR COPY NOW AT AMAZON.COM , BARNES AND NOBLE, BOOKSAMILLION
The café was nearly empty at ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning. It was the slow time that falls between the bustle of morning latte and muffin traffic and the hurried rush of the lunchtime crowd. Deandra fit into neither of these categories as she leisurely sipped her caffeine infused mocha java latte and scoured the local newspaper. She stopped here several times a week after her five-mile morning run.
Tall and lean, she was a stunning woman with an olive complexion and greenish blue eyes. All traces of the gangly teenager she once was were gone. She’d dyed her hair and changed her name in a determined effort to escape her past. Her thick sandy blond hair was pulled up into a pony tail and poked through the back hole of a green baseball cap as she bent over the society section of the paper, and studied her subject with the intensity of a high school senior cramming for her SATs. While she bought the paper regularly, only two sections garnered her attention: the society page and the business section. The society page told her what was happening where for the local who’s who. The business section let her know who were the up and coming movers and shakers in town.
This day she made a mental note that it was the third time in six months she’s seen the name Marshall James. On the second page of the business section was a photograph of him as he received an award for outstanding community contributions. He’d donated a very large sum of money to renovate the local gymnasium of the community center. Although it probably wasn’t the best picture of him, Deandra could clearly see his strong jaw line, warm smile and more importantly she immediately recognized the five thousand dollar Concord Saratoga Diamond watch on his left wrist. The coffers were starting to run a little low and it was time to find another benefactor. Marshall James looked like he would fit the bill perfectly.
A shadow moved across her newspaper and she looked up to see a twenty-something dark Italian cutie standing next to her table. He had smoldering dark eyes with long thick lashes. “Scusami,” he began and indicated the chair opposite her as though to join her.
In a glance Deandra took stock of him from head to toe. He was wearing a tight fitting tank top, lightweight sweat pants and well-worn joggers. If she were hornier this morning it might be worth the ride, but at the moment she had much bigger fish to fry. She pointed to the seat opposite her. As soon as he sat down as she collected her newspaper and prepared to leave.
He grimaced as he watched her long fit frame rise from her seat. Dressed in a green sports bra, white spandex running shorts and white thong providing a clear outline of her ass-cheeks Deandra was a toss up between athletic sports woman and sex kitten all in one. She knew she had a body that men lusted after, and used it to her best possible advantage. Her potential suitor looked at her with a perplexed expression on his face and spread his arms in the international gesture of misunderstanding. Sunlight glinted off a silver key ring in his hand. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the Porsche insignia on his key ring. A quick scan around the parking lot revealed a grey Porsche 911 Carrera and a change in Deandra’s afternoon plans. Perhaps this young man wasn’t quite the guppy she envisioned. She discreetly lowered her body back into the chair.
“Buongiorno,” she said and smiled with a new appreciation for his potential as an afternoon playmate.
An hour later they were on their way to her apartment and so he could show his appreciation for her naked body. Paolo was lean and strong. As a long distance runner like Deandra he had the stamina of a racehorse. He’d begun undressing her on the way up the steps to her third floor apartment. She’d stopped in the stairwell and allowed him to pull her spandex tights down over her hips. His lips blazed a fiery trail across her satiny butt cheeks and his tongue snaked down the crack of her ass.
She grabbed the hand rails to steady her weakened knees. As she neared the top steps she’d bent over and put her ass in his face. Paolo eagerly obliged, and roughly dragged the only barrier between her and his hot, extremely long tongue, her white thong, down to her knees. He spread her ass cheeks with his hands and slipped his tongue into her moist, wet pussy. Deandra purred in response. Neither seemed concerned that they were in the middle of a public stairwell. Paolo lapped her body juices like a thirsty man in the middle of the Nairobi Desert. When he replaced his tongue with his long, lean dick, Deandra’s mind was transported into another millennium. As strong as he was lean, he wrapped his arm under her rib cage and lifted her up off the stairs and carried her onto the top landing. The length of his ten-inch dick was still imbedded in deep in her pussy when he pressed her face against the closed door of her apartment and continued pounding her with solid steady thrusts. The thump, thumping of her body against the solid wood door finally brought a curious neighbor into the hallway below.
“What the hell is going on up there?” Exclaimed the old man at the bottom of the stairway, as he tried to peer into the darkened upper landing.
Deandra reached inside her bra and pulled out her apartment key. She leaned back away from the door only far enough to slip the key in the lock. When she turned the handle the door burst open from the weight of their bodies. Paolo kicked the door closed with his heel and continued his plundering of newly discovered land. Still positioned behind her, he assisted her in as she pulled her sports bra over her head. He cupped her large, voluptuous breasts in his hands and squeezed as though testing them for ripeness. He guided Deandra into the kitchen where he pulled out a chair and sat down pulling her into his lap.
Deandra screamed as the length of his extra long dick pushed up further inside her body. He put his hands under her thighs and lifted her closer to his groin and eased the degree of pain she’d felt. It was soon apparent that Paolo was no novice in pleasing women, as he expertly slipped his hand between her open thighs and started stroking her clit. Deandra jerked uncontrollably as she was overcome with orgasm after orgasm. Pinned on his dick, with his hands securely between her legs, there was no escape from the sensations he created. Wet, milky juices flowed from her body like a river and gushed over Paolo’s long lean fingers as he tweaked her clit like it was a Stradivarius. He then smeared the fluid across her breasts and across her open, panting lips. He finally eased her off his lap and pulled her towards the couch. Deandra was relieved to be on her back for once, and opened her legs wide to welcome him back into her secret depths. Paolo eased between her legs once more and rode Deandra to several more climaxes before finally releasing his cum deep inside his newly charted territory. He stretched to his full height and flexed his muscles and smiled. He gestured towards the bathroom and indicated he wanted to shower before he left.
Deandra nodded her agreement and continued to lie on the couch to regain her strength. She’d enjoyed her afternoon romp with Paolo; she hoped he’d show his appreciation for her time. When she heard the shower running she fished his wallet out of his jeans. She found at least fifteen one hundred dollar bills and several fifties. She put the wallet back into his pocket and proceeded to her closet to retrieve a tee shirt.
Paolo emerged from the shower shortly thereafter and strode boldly and naked back into the living room. His hair was wet from the shower and its shiny, silken sheen reflected his use of her shampoo. His body was similarly covered with long dark fine hair, although there were thicker patches on his chest and pubic area. His face was handsome and he had dark piercing eyes. Adonis should have been so well put together.
After he dressed, he walked over to Deandra seated on the couch and planted a surprisingly gentle kiss on her lips. “Grazie, il mio amore.” He said as he reached for his wallet. He opened it, and seemed mildly surprised to see his bills still intact. He pulled all the bills from his wallet and took one of the fifty dollar bills out of the stack.
Deandra watched in silence. When he took the fifty off the top of that thick wad of bills her heart sank. Did he think she was that cheap? Why should he pay her at all? Simply, because she assumed he would reward her for her time and use of her body.
Paolo chuckled softly at the dismay evident on her face. He chucked her under her chin and pressed the wad of bills into her hand. The fifty dollar bill he shoved in his front pocket. He said something in Italian, which was totally unintelligible to her, yet it had sounded so beautiful coming off his lips. Then with a wave and an “Arrivederci, bella,” he was gone.
Deandra gleefully counted the money he’d given her. She earned two thousand dollars for her afternoon adventure. Now she could afford buy a new outfit for the art showing.
~~~~~
Deandra worked hard to remain well-connected and it was one of those connections that came through with an invitation to a private viewing of a hot new African American Artist at a local gallery. Her internet research revealed Marshall James was a patron of African American art. She was banking on him not missing this event.
Friday evening she dressed in a navy soft silk chiffon dress with a halter neckline and full skirt, it was cinched around the waist with a wide inset of pleated silk charmeuse. Matching navy leather high heeled slip on sandals complimented her understated look and said sexy, not sluttish. She arrived at the gallery early to ensure she would have time to survey the premises for the best possible happenstance meeting. She flirted with several guests in attendance while keeping a sharp eye on the entrance. She knew it would not pay to pin all her hopes on his showing up and needed a fall back plan.
When Marshall stepped into the lobby of the Norton Museum of Art with a woman of obvious style and sophistication at his side, Deandra was only mildly surprised. She could not expect a catch of his magnitude would be without a date, but disposing of the competition had become a hobby of hers. She quickly assessed the woman’s salt and pepper hair, which was coiffed to perfection. Simple diamond tear drop earrings bounced softly against her neck. Her flawless makeup brought out the rich tones in her caramel complexion. An elegant black designer dress sheathed her trim and petite figure. She oozed graciousness and class with every movement. Deandra took an immediate dislike to this interloper. However, her resolve to end up with him this evening was not in the least daunted by this development. She would have to choose her moment of introduction very carefully. Immersed in her plans for the evening she did not hear anyone approach until a voice whispered in her ear.
“Careful, dear, your fangs are showing,” he said and handed her a glass of red wine.
Deandra turned quickly and smiled slyly at, Oliver Benson. They had been friends for several years and he was well versed with her predatory nature. She wasn’t in the least offended by his comment and laughed deliciously. " It can’t be that obvious. I must be losing my touch,” she replied wickedly.
“Obvious only to me, darling. Is he on the menu tonight?” he asked tipping his wine glass slightly in Marshall’s direction.
“Yes, I am quite ravenous and he does look much better in person than in the photos I’ve seen of him,” she replied as she watched him from across the room.
Marshall was wearing a black three button suit, complimented by a grey shirt with crisp white collar and French cuffs. Diamond and onyx cuff links matched the gold, diamond and onyx ring on his ring hand. He was clean-shaven with the exception of a neatly trimmed mustache. His attire screamed money and his demeanor projected the class.
“He looks positively edible,” Deandra purred as she took a sip from her glass. “By the way, not that it matters, but who’s the old broad glued to his side?” she queried.
“Ah, that would be Viola. She is looking elegant as usual this evening. Classy lady and just to let you know, she will be quite a formidable opponent.”
“Really,” Deandra replied incredulously. She reassessed the woman who had now drifted away from Marshall’s side and was engaged in her own conversation with a few of the socialites in attendance. “I can’t imagine…”she mused.
“Viola James is no joke. Many beautiful women have not survived Viola’s inspection or gained her approval,” he advised.
“Approval? Viola James?” she pondered aloud as the name tried to register in her brain.
“She’s his mother, darling, and she can smell a gold digger a mile away. Be careful,” he cautioned and wandered off.
Deandra’s gaze narrowed reflectively as she contemplated the best way to get Marshall away from his mother’s clutches and into her bed before the night was over.
~~~~~
Two hours into the evening Deandra had yet to wangle an opportunity to meet Marshall. Each time she managed to get within shouting distance he was pulled away in another direction. Time was winding down and her feet were beginning to ache. She took a moment to slip into the corridor near the rear entrance and massage her aching foot. She leaned on the wall and slipped off one of her sandals. Balanced on her left foot she massaged the ball of her right foot with her free hand and held onto her shoe with the other. Unexpectedly, a door opened behind her and bumped her just enough to unbalance her and send her careening face first into the opposite wall. Flailing helplessly she tried to prevent her body from crashing into the wall. Suddenly her arm was grabbed from behind and she was snatched from near disaster and landed smack in the arms of Marshall James.
At once angry and relieved she started to let out stream of expletives when she realized upon whose solid chest she was resting. Any and all sharp retorts were suddenly swallowed.
“Are you alright?” he asked as he eased her away and allowed her to lean on his arm as she put her shoe back on.
“I’m fine. Thanks to you. I didn’t realize I was standing in front of a door until it opened,” she smiled and inhaled a deep breath of the most delicious cologne. Tingling sensations started inside her thighs. This is going to be so good, she thought to herself.
He extended his hand to her, “I’m Marshall and you are?” he asked. Her obvious beauty was not lost on him.
“Deandra Morgan, pleased to me you,” she replied easily and slipped her hand into his. His palm was soft and his handshake firm. Her hand lingered in his a moment more and then she casually looked away. “Are you familiar with the artist?” she asked.
“Actually not really, I saw the painting sample included in the invitation and my curiosity was peaked you might say,” he replied. The understated dress did not fool him. This woman radiated sex appeal no matter how hard she tried to mask it. He’d seen her watching him from afar most of the evening and wondered when she would make her move.
“Mine too, piqued I mean,” she replied and looked directly into his eyes. There was no mistaking the double entendre of her words, nor the naked desire in her eyes. A fierce throbbing was starting and she could feel her body growing moist in anticipation.
Marshall took in the appealing package in front of him from her healthy olive toned skin to her long and sexy legs that did not seem to stop. The deep v-neck of the halter top dress displayed just enough cleavage to be enticing and let the viewer know her soft full breasts were home grown – not factory made. The excitement of the moment was causing her nipples to strain firm and rigid against the thin chiffon of her dress. Marshall, too, felt the thrill of anticipation in his loins. In his mind's eye, he was already deep between her thighs and hard at work.
Reluctantly, he reminded himself Viola was here and it was unlikely he was getting out of here without taking her home first. The two minute silent conversation took place without either of them saying a word. It was instantly clear to Deandra when his mind drifted back to the present and his mother in the other room.
“I’ll be leaving soon,” she remarked, although it sounded more like a suggestion, and then slipped him a gallery card with her cell phone number written on the back. She glided away without a backward glance and mingled effortlessly into the crowd. She had accomplished what she needed for the moment. The meeting had been most important. Now she would wait for him to make the next move.
He smiled as he saw the number on the back and then slipped it inside his jacket pocket. It was time to find Viola and make his exit. There was a change of plans in the evening’s agenda.
~~~~~~
As Marshall walked his mother to her door his mind was on Deandra and he planned to give her a call as soon as Viola was safely inside for the night. He opened the front door and made a cursory check of the house from front to back before returning to the foyer where Viola was hanging her wrap in the hall closet.
Viola had kept a close watch on her son all evening. Her internal antennae were alert for any unsuitable women. She loved her son, but felt he was somewhat naïve when it came to women. When Marshall happened to catch Deandra in the hallway she had watched the flirtatious behavior that ensued. She knew Marshall was anxious to leave this evening and follow-up with that woman.
“Would you like to stay for a cup of tea, dear?” she asked even though she knew the answer.
“Not tonight, Mom. I have some work to do,” he replied as he leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I don’t like her,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. She knew he was on his way back to the gallery. Her innate radar told her that girl was trouble with a capital T. A designer dress and shoes were not enough to disguise a gold digging trollop. She wanted better for her son. She just wished he wanted better for himself.
Marshall straightened up and looked down at his mom and smiled. Viola never missed a trick. He knew she only wanted to protect him, but he wasn’t eighteen anymore and her opinion of his companions mattered less and less as he got older. He wasn’t the babe in the woods she feared, and a long term commitment was not what he had in mind for Deandra tonight.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve been a big boy for a long time now. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he kissed her again and walked out the front door closing it gently behind him.
ORDER YOUR COPY NOW AT AMAZON.COM , BARNES AND NOBLE, BOOKSAMILLION