A Night in Paradise
Two’s company. Is more a crowd?)
by Stephanie Rose
Stephanie Rose Entertainment
Miami, Florida
www.StephanieRoseHeat.com
A Night in Paradise by Stephanie Rose
Copyright © 2008 by Stephanie Rose Entertainment.
Info@StephanieRoseHeat.com
www.StephanieRoseHeat.com
Manufactured in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
First edition 2008.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to anyone who ever had a dream.
Most of all, this is dedicated to you – a lover of erotica.
Publication of any and all trademarks contained herein are not authorized by, associated with, nor sponsored by the trademark owners.
~~~
A Night in Paradise
by Stephanie Rose
(Two’s company. Is more a crowd?)
~~~
“Oh God! This guy’s looking for a partner to go to the swinger’s club with him?”
Portia Kane squinted at the personal ad in the Miami XChange weekly newspaper. Though she loved the XChange’s political editorials, and regularly read its vast coverage of the legendary Miami nightlife, she especially loved perusing the erotic personal ads in its back pages.
She read the personal ad aloud.
“Single Black/Italian professional male, seeking female companion to attend couples night at The Paradise. No contact, no strings, no games. I just need a female escort. Appena mi fiducia.”
Seated in her spacious, ultra-modern kitchen, Portia tapped her neatly-manicured fingernails on the midnight-black granite-topped island stationed in the center of the room. Suddenly pensive, she rose, took a bottle of spring water from the refrigerator, walked out the sliding doors just off her breakfast nook and stepped out onto her balcony.
Fifteen floors up from the sizzling-hot South Beach sand, she relaxed in her high-rise, luxury condominium building. She took a long sip of her cool drink and stared at the expansive waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was just beginning to set and its warm golden tones mixed with and cascaded into the cool blue waters.
A budding writer and journalist, Portia’s mind began to swirl with questions. “So this guy, this random guy, wants a female escort into the hottest, most exclusive African-American swingers club in Miami? Hell, the hottest, most exclusive African-American swinger’s club in the world? And with no strings? He just wants an escort?”
Portia set the bottle on the edge of the concrete balcony and ran her hands over her pixie-length, jet-black, relaxed tresses. Reminiscent of Halle Berry’s legendary haircut, her short hair perfectly complimented her angular, but still soft features and deep golden bronze skin.
Then she tried to ease the pounding excitement rising through her by smoothing down her light cotton summer dress. The fitted garment hugged and caressed her gentle curves and its soft, white color highlighted her golden bronze skin.
Thinking about going to the most exclusive Black swinger’s club in the world, most likely filled with sexy, beautiful women, sent a luscious tingle all through her body. A lesbian at heart, she leaned against the balcony’s steel railing and imagined sexy female bodies, from chocolate to vanilla, from slender to curvy, all joined together in erotic bliss. Her thick nipples hardened, straining against the soft fabric of her dress.
“I’ve always wanted to go to the Paradise,” she mused as the warm, ocean breeze wafted over her soft skin. “It’s been on my mind ever since I read that article about it on that Internet message board. And it’s true that men can’t come in unescorted. Single women are always welcome, coupled or not, but every single man has to have at least one female companion.”
Portia began to pace back and forth. “But that place is so exclusive! How does this guy even plan to get in? And why is he advertising for a partner in the city paper of all places?”
She snapped her fingers, insight rushing to her. “Of course. He’s a fake. A wannabe. Definitely not an ‘insider.’ I mean, yeah, I want to go to The Paradise, but not with some phony flake.”
A smug smile spread over Portia’s face as she grabbed her bottle of water and went back into the kitchen. She sat back down at the island, vowing to forget about the preposterous proposition, but something made her look at the ad again.
Sighing, she picked up the paper. This time, she studied the words more carefully, especially the last phrase, “Appena mi fiducia.”
She thought for a moment, crinkling her tiny, pert nose. “Hmm. He could very well be a flake,” she said. “But would a flake use foreign words in a personal ad?”
She jumped up, jogged into her home office and sat down at her computer. The machine already on, she clicked into a popular search engine and typed in the foreign phrase.
A second later, its translation popped up onto the screen.
“Well, I’ll be. It’s Italian!” She squinted at the display. “It means, ‘Just trust me.’”
She paused, leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. Then she grinned. “Well, I can at least call his voice mailbox. Just to see what his voice sounds like. That’d be pretty harmless.”
She went into the living room, grabbed her cell phone out of her handbag and went back into the kitchen. Checking the paper, she first dialed the main personal ad contact number, then punched in the man’s individual voice mailbox number.
“I just have to see what kind of man is trying to spend a night in Paradise.”
~~~
Later that evening, corporate attorney Antonín Giansante sat at his dining room table sipping on a cool glass of Chardonnay as he carefully reviewed the large stack of corporate and financial documents in front of him.
Ever since he was a young boy, Antonín was fascinated with money and finance. First owning a lemonade stand in Miami as a child, then owning and maintaining a mini-conglomerate of paper routes, he learned the value of a dollar early in life.
However, his dream of being a financial mogul was almost derailed just as early. Born to an Italian diplomat for a father and an African-American school principal for a mother, his parents urged him to complement his high monetary goals with high educational goals.
However, never daunted by any challenge, Antonín agreed and mapped out his career path early, graduating from high school at sixteen and college just four years later. Going straight to law school, he knew he could make the most impact for his people if he studied the way money flowed into and out of the world’s economy.
Now, just a mere ten years later, as a full partner in the successful Cole, Borgess, Deveraux and Giansante law firm, the firm he helped build right out of law school, he headed up its Transaction and Finance Department. The lead attorney on the Synergy Corporation merger, Antonín was the point man on joining two of the most successful African-American manufacturing companies in the world.
As Antonín studied the thick stack of documents, he reflected back on when he first delegated the preliminary due diligence to one of his junior corporate associates. Now that the merger was gaining steam, he personally wanted to verify all of the documents before the merger could proceed.
He’d already spent the better part of the day completing the document review when all of a sudden his cell phone chimed, alerting him to a new text message. He picked it up from the table and checked the display.
“Hmm. The XChange magazine?”
He read the text quickly. “I have a new voicemail message.”
He sighed. “I need a break,” he said as he pushed the papers to the side, leaned back in his chair and dialed the message retrieval number in the text.
As he logged into his voice mailbox account, he took a deep breath. “I hope this one is The One,” he said as he waited for the system to recognize his password. “I can’t take any more insincere women.” As he sat there, he realized his heart was racing.
Being a powerful attorney in Miami, he was inundated with invitations to various social events. It wasn’t unusual for Antonín to attend the hottest sporting events, concerts, club openings and other social events. However, none piqued his interest as did the invitation to go to The Paradise.
Once he overheard his law partner, David Deveraux, bragging about his wild, raucous night at The Paradise, he was obsessed with going to the club himself. Deveraux managed a private invite, but there was only one hitch:
Antonín had to find a female escort.
Though he was excited to go to the private club, he was also hesitant. Because he was in such a prominent position, he couldn’t afford to ask just anyone.
As Antonín sat there, stroking his sturdy and clean-shaven, deep mahogany chin, he thought long and hard about which woman he could attend with.
“I really wish Amaya could go with me,” he said, his mind forming a mental picture of the beautiful and adventurous, yet discreet lady friend that wanted to attend The Paradise as well.
Amaya Salazar, a Latin dance teacher with her own chain of dance studios across the United States, was a sight to behold. A stunningly beautiful entrepreneur, she retained Antonín’s law firm to help franchise her studios. Impressed with Antonín’s corporate skill and business acumen, she was fully satisfied with his representation and retained the firm for even more of her legal work.
The twosome quickly became close friends and went out on occasion. However, despite swarms of men approaching Amaya on almost a minutely basis, only Antonín knew that her heart was only for women. As such, Antonín often found himself accompanying Amaya to their shared social engagements, if only to discourage any male suitors.
Knowing how much Amaya would have loved to attend with him, Antonín shifted in his chair, then he sighed. “Too bad our schedules haven’t been meshing lately,” he said sadly. But at least Amaya agreed to help him select his female escort.
To ensure discretion, he decided not to approach any of his other personal friends or associates but, rather, to find an anonymous female companion with as much to lose as he had. Thankfully, for years, he’d been a faithful reader of the adult personal ads in the Miami XChange and decided to give them a try. However, the responses he’d gotten had been less than impressive.
He held the phone carefully, expectantly, and at the voice mailbox prompt, he pressed the number one and the new message began to play. After only a moment, he found himself absolutely stunned at the soft, feminine voice that began to speak.
“Hi. I’m…I’m Portia. I saw your ad for an escort to The Paradise club and I want to learn more. I just listened to your message and I like your voice. I like the fact that you’re looking for someone who’s very discreet. And, actually, I’m more into girls than guys, so I especially like that you’re only looking for a female escort into the club, and not a partner to party with. I also like your idea about talking on the phone first for a while, then meeting for coffee. So just respond to this message if you’re interested.”
She paused. “Oh…About me. I’m about 5’6” with a slim build. I’m African-American and I have golden bronze skin and short, black hair. Ok. That’s it. I’m kinda nervous about this, but you sound like a good guy so I’m taking a chance. Oh yeah…I loved your Italian. Well, ok. That’s it. Thanks. Bye. Oh wait…Il mio cuore è nelle sue mani. I hope I said that correctly! Ok. Bye!”
Antonín realized he was smiling as he translated her Italian words. “My heart is in your hands.”
He kept that same warm smile as he listened to the message five more times. Eventually he hung up, sat back in his chair and thought about the soft voice that had just traveled through his body and straight to his heart.
Sitting up straight, he quickly dialed another number. A pleasant, yet seductively feminine voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Amaya? It’s Antonín. Listen…I think I’ve found The One…”
~~~
A week later, perched at the bar in the Golden Rose restaurant, Portia nervously twirled what little hair she had in her fingers. “What in the hell am I doing here?” she whispered.
Ever since Antonín returned her message over a week ago, they’d talked every single day. Portia quickly grew to love his deep, rich voice, keen intelligence, sharp wit and his masculine charms.
Once she was comfortable with his telephone persona, she agreed to meet him at the Golden Rose for drinks. Located right on Collins Avenue in South Beach, the Golden Rose was one of the most upscale restaurants in all of Miami. The restaurant was known for being dark, discreet and quite removed from the normal bustle of such a popular city.
As she sat there, sipping a cool glass of spring water, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She wore a soft-black satin mindress, cut so that her shapely legs were on full display. Her short, glossy black hair had small, sexy curls and the back was freshly tapered so that the soft strands gently caressed her neck. Her makeup was simple; she wore rich, gold colors on her eyes, cheeks and lips, making her golden bronze skin gleam.
“He said he’d be wearing a dark business suit with a pink tie. I hope he remembers what I said I’d be wearing.”
Picking up her glass, she took another sip of her ice water. Then all of a sudden, a motion to her right caught her eye. She turned toward that direction and gasped at what she saw.
A stunningly handsome man in a dark blue business suit and a rose-colored tie walked directly toward her with an equally beautiful woman in tow.
The dark gentleman, the color of deep mahogany, was about 6’4”. He stood tall and lean, and his masculine yet gentlemanly presence dominated the entire room.
The woman beside him was absolutely gorgeous. As Portia regarded the Latin woman, it only took a moment for her to decide that this exotic creature was simply heavenly.
The woman’s delicate, fair, buttermilk skin, tinged with just a hint of brown, was warm and radiant and fully represented her Latin heritage. She had long, dark-brown curly hair, with copper and golden highlights, and it framed her soft, pretty face. Her enchanting hazel eyes sparkled with mirth.
The woman wore a fitted gold silk dress with a plunging neckline that revealed firm, rounded breasts. The dress also had a dangerously-high hemline that revealed her sexy, curvy legs. Portia licked her lips at the woman’s outright carnal display of feminine sexuality.
Portia trembled with raw desire as the man stepped right up to her and extended his hand. “Portia?”
She nodded as they shook hands. “Yes, it’s me,” she squeaked.
Then she immediately grimaced, annoyed at how nervous she sounded. However, her discomfort flittered away and was quickly replaced by awe at how attractive and fit the couple was. Portia was so impressed with the exotic twosome that she immediately regretted her initial reluctance. In that moment she sent a silent thanks to the Universe for urging her to answer Antonín’s personal ad.
“Portia! Ciao Bella!” he said, grasping her tiny hand in his large, warm one. “I’m Antonín. And this is Amaya. It’s so nice that you could join us.”
Amaya extended her hand. “You were right, Antonín,” she said in a low, husky voice. “Portia’s a true beauty. Inside and out.”
Portia shivered at her touch. Amaya’s warmth radiated right through her, from her fingertips to her toes. Portia blushed at the raw heat that began to rise in her.
Antonín helped Portia off the barstool, and placed his hand at the small of her back. “Come Portia. I have a table already waiting.”
~~~
“So, Portia…tell me a little about yourself,” Amaya asked, her accent thick and her voice husky and filled with passion. “I want to know everything about you, you beautiful creature.”
Before Portia could answer, Amaya unexpectedly reached out and stroked her short hair. “But first, Bella, tell me about your haircut. It’s sunning on you!” Amaya said.
Portia shivered, partly because of Amaya’s new nickname for her, but mostly because of Amaya’s slim fingers touching and teasing her hair. Amaya’s hands teased her silky strands, then began to roam down to caress her neck.
“I…I’ve just always loved short hair,” Portia answered, her body trembling with desire for this seductive woman.
Amaya tilted her head. “Your hair looks like that…Halle Berry, no?”
Portia turned to see Antonín sitting there both amused and aroused at their conversation.
“Yes,” Portia answered. “That’s who I modeled it after.”
Amaya dipped her hands lower to stroke the close cut hair at the nape of Portia’s neck. Amaya smiled, amused at seeing Portia shivering in delight. “Well, you’re a natural beauty,” Amaya said, “just like Halle.”
“Thanks,” Portia blushed.
“Well, go on. Tell me more about you,” Amaya said, still fingering Portia’s soft skin.
Portia cleared her throat and struggled to regain her composure in front of the exotic couple. “I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m self employed.”
“What do you do?” Amaya asked.
“I’m a freelance writer. I work for an online magazine. I’m also working on a novel of my own. My first.” Portia was slightly embarrassed at how open she was about her real life to this total stranger, but she was enthralled by Amaya’s exquisite beauty.
“How nice,” Amaya said as she drew her fingers from Portia’s skin to take a sip of wine. The threesome, now seated at an intimate table in the back of the restaurant, was now in a position to fully evaluate one other.
“But let’s get down to why we’re all really here,” Amaya said, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Why are you interested in The Paradise?”
“Well, I heard…well, read, about the club online. I was intrigued.”
“You’re looking for a partner to partake in the…festivities? Someone tall, dark and handsome?”
“You mean a man?” Portia shook her head. “No. Not at all. I don’t date men.”
Amaya leaned in close, her fragrance swirling around Portia, captivating her even more. “Do tell. You no like handsome men?” Amaya asked as she gently stroked Antonín’s strong, dark hand.
Portia stared her in the eye. “I prefer beautiful women. Antonín didn’t tell you?”
Amaya was silent as she sat back and took another sip from her wineglass. Then, carefully setting her glass back down, she tossed back her chestnut tresses and fixed a firm gaze right onto Portia.
Portia watched her carefully, but Amaya didn’t show any signs of shock or embarrassment. Finally Amaya spoke. “Do you have a particular type?”
Portia smiled. “I do love Latin women. I love their spirit, their resilience and, especially, their heat.”
Amaya returned her smile. Then she turned to her male companion, who’d been sitting silently watching the passionate interaction between the two women. “Antonín,” Amaya said, “where did you find this beautiful creature? She’s simply amazing.”
“I agree,” he said. “And I’m looking forward to learning even more.”
~~~
“Ok, ladies, we’re here,” Antonín announced as their stretch luxury limousine pulled up to a marked valet station.
Portia leaned over Antonín and peered out of the tinted window to see the parking attendant coming toward them. The smartly-dressed young man opened the passenger door.
Antonín stepped out of the car, then extended his hand to help Portia out, then Amaya, who was carrying three small backpacks. The trio silently looked at the nondescript gray stone building, each lost in his or her own thoughts.
Amaya looked at Portia curiously. “Not getting nervous, are we?” she asked as she gently took Portia’s hand in hers.
Portia smiled. “No. But like you already know, this is my first time here. Well, our first time here. I’m just trying to take everything in, that’s all.”
The attendant ushered them into the building with a grand gesture. “Welcome to Paradise,” he smiled. “Just enter the building, continue up the staircase to the front offices, and Marlena, our concierge, will take care of your every need.”
~~~
As Portia stepped out of the way to let Antonín lead them inside, she imagined a building filled with expensive furnishings, gold and silver accents, valuable artwork, priceless glasswork, and other modern architectural treats.
Instead, she found modest wooden paneling and concrete steps. Extremely modest, but with a somewhat home-y feel.
“I guess I expected the Taj Mahal,” she chuckled to herself.
“Hmm?” Amaya was right behind her, almost breathing right on her neck.
“Nothing.”
“I know,” Amaya grinned as she gently stroked Portia’s back. “You were expecting something more…elaborate?”
“I guess.”
“Well from what I hear, making the place more, shall we say, expensive, would call a lot more attention than the owners may want.”
Portia nodded. “I guess,” she repeated.
“Besides, The Paradise is more about exclusivity. And its clientele. And both of those are a commodity worth more than unimportant material trinkets,” she said as she playfully nipped Portia’s back. “You’ll see.”
They followed Antonín up the staircase and to the front offices. They exchanged pleasantries with Marlena, a beautifully dark and statuesque, yet icy woman, who was posted right at the glass partition to the office.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman,” she said in a clipped British accent. “Welcome. However, as much as I want to properly welcome you, I first need to take care of your financial obligations.”
When Marlena discreetly announced their entrance fee to Antonín, Portia’s ears nearly burned as she heard the exorbitant amount. However Antonín didn’t even blink. He paid cash for all three of them without a word.
“Thank you,” Marlena said, visibly relaxed once the cool, crisp bills were safely in her hand. “However, before I can explain what’s in store for you, I need to turn you over to our head of security, Algo.”
The trio turned to see a burly, but still handsome Persian man walking toward them. Portia was shocked, as he seemed to come from out of nowhere.
Algo’s words, in a thick, heavy voice, were brief, firm and direct. “First, I need to make sure you aren’t carrying any recording devices of any kind,” he said as he ushered them into a private room and locked the door behind them.
The trio was then subjected to a slightly embarrassing physical search as well as a search of their backpacks. Also, the trio had to surrender their cell phones and PDAs. Afterward, they were each presented with a thin, two-page document.
“Confidentiality,” Algo barked.
Antonín quickly read the documents and nodded his consent. The trio signed and Algo collected the forms. Once he’d unlocked the room, they all exited and he handed the signed forms to Marlena. After a quick perusal, she smiled, becoming much friendlier once all of the requirements had been taken care of.
“Thank you for being so patient,” Marlena said as she filed away their paperwork. Then she handed Antonín three small keys.
“Right past this room,” she explained, “we have two dressing rooms where you can change and those are the keys to our lockers where you can safely store your belongings. But first, please enjoy drinks and appetizers in our lounge. It’s a nice way to break the ice and get to know some of the other participants,” she winked, her icy exterior slowly melting.
Marlena continued. “Once the festivities begin, you can go to the dressing room to shower and/or change into something more comfortable and begin your night. Now here on the main floor, we have a large viewing area with a constant screen of adult films. We also have semi-private rooms for your enjoyment on the main floor and the floor just above us. And by semi-private I mean that each room is separate from another, but there are no doors on any of the rooms. Just several rows of crystal beads strung from the doorway. That’s to ensure every guest’s safety and to make sure that no one is placed in a situation beyond his or her control. On the floor below us is an Olympic-sized pool as well as two Jacuzzis.”
For her next words, she leaned in close. “We also furnish plenty of condoms and you’ll find them in each and every room.” She stood up straight, regaining her full six-foot-plus height. “Now. Any questions?”
Antonín shook his head, then he turned to Portia and Amaya. “Ladies?”
They both declined.
“Alright then,” Marlena smiled, showing more warmth with every sentence. “Have a nice evening.”
“Ladies, shall we?” Antonín said as he extended his hand with a flourish.
Portia and Amaya giggled as they headed for the lounge. Once they reached the large, warm room, Portia began to relax.
She immediately noticed that these surroundings were much more elaborate. A full bar, consisting of a jet-black marble countertop sat in front of a large mirror that elaborate etchings on its surface. There were various tables and leather chairs and sofas placed around the room and many of the patrons were seated comfortably, enjoying liquid refreshments and deliciously-smelling hors d’oeuvres.
Portia peered at an extremely tall gentleman with rich, dark skin, seated at the bar, sipping on what appeared to be cognac. In front of him, a slim, pecan-brown, nearly-nude goddess twirled and danced seductively. “Wait,” Portia whispered. “Isn’t that man Monte James? Doesn’t he play for…for…?”
Antonín chuckled. “He plays for the Miami Heat, yes.”
Portia looked around, studying the rest of the upscale African-American patrons. She gasped as she noticed Diamond, a red-hot R&B female recording star, nuzzling the ear of Moya Spencer, a best-selling female novelist.
In another corner, a top male rap producer was courting a young up-and-coming Cuban baseball phenom. She even noticed her favorite cinnamon-colored entertainment reporter sitting on the lap of an Academy Award-winning male actor. The popular reporter was wriggling her bottom against the thick bulge in the actor’s pants and they both were completely engaged in each other’s well-built physiques.
“Let’s have a drink,” Antonín suggested, pulling Portia out of her starstruck gaze.
Amaya leaned in close to Portia’s ear, almost kissing the soft flesh. “I know you have your eyes on everyone else, but do you notice all the eyes on you?”
Portia looked around and noticed that she was, in fact, the center of attention. Blushing, she put her head down and followed Antonín to a seat at a small table. She could hear Amaya chuckling behind her.
Only minutes after they ordered drinks, several patrons joined them to chat. Portia did, in fact, meet Monte James, as well as Diamond and Moya. Through Antonín and Amaya, she also met several black actors, actresses, musicians, athletes, businesspeople, and even a few politicians, all winking and smiling seductively at her.
After a couple rounds of drinks and some delicious treats, Portia began to relax in the midst of the celebrities. They’re here to have fun, just like me, she mused.
After an hour, a set of chimes rang out over the loudspeaker.
She then noticed everyone moving out of the lounge, heading in the direction of the dressing rooms.
“I guess it’s time to begin,” Amaya said, standing. She held out her hand. “Portia, come with me?”
Antonín nodded. “As I said before, ladies, I just wanted an escort into the club. I’ll be in the main room watching the action. However, you two ladies enjoy yourselves and we’ll just meet up at the end of the night. Is that ok?”
Sure,” Portia and Amaya said in unison.
Amaya squeezed Portia’s hand as they headed to the women’s dressing room.
~~~
“We can take these lockers right here,” Amaya said, placing their backpacks on a set of wooden benches. She looked inside one of the bags, then handed it to Portia. “I think we can get undressed now.”
Portia watched as Amaya reached into her bag and pulled out a sheer pink nightie. The nightie was trimmed in delicate pink faux-fur that seemed to float as it moved. She then removed a pair of kitten-heeled, open-toed sandals with a matching pink faux-fur pouffe on the top.
“You like?” Amaya teased.
Before Portia could stop herself, the word just slipped out. “Yes.”
“Let me get undressed first, Mama,” Amaya laughed as she reached for the hem of her dress and, in one swoop, slipped it off. The Latin goddess was now completely nude.
Amaya’s silky buttermilk skin glowed in the light shining down from the ceiling. She had slender, but sturdy, dancer’s limbs that moved with artful grace. Her large, rounded breasts, capped with thick, dark nipples, sloped into a slim waist, curvy hips and muscular thighs and calves. As a bonus, her pussy was completely clean-shaven and her sexy, intimate fragrance drew Portia’s full attention.
“Now, your turn,” Amaya said, reaching for her. In seconds, Portia was fully exposed, her naked body glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration.
“Nervous, Bella?” Amaya asked as she stroked Portia’s delicate frame.
Portia’s breath caught at Amaya’s gentle touch. Amaya used her fingers to tease the silky skin from Portia’s neck, down to her breasts. Amaya used both hands to squeeze Portia’s supple flesh, then teased her rock-hard nipples.
Then Amaya leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Portia’s. “May I?” Amaya whispered.
“Please.”
Amaya’s lips captured Portia’s, engaging them in a hot, sweet, erotic kiss that shook them both. Amaya moaned as she tasted sweet peppermint on Portia’s tongue.
“You taste sooo good, Bella,” Amaya moaned into Portia’s mouth. They kissed deeper, their tongues thrusting hard and fast against each other.
Amaya’s hands continued to explore Portia’s body. She rubbed and caressed Portia’s back, then trailed her hands down until she reached Portia’s tight, firm ass. Amaya stroked the soft flesh, then gripped the taut globes in her hands.
“Ohhh,” Portia sighed. “Yesss!”
Portia was equally busy, first fondling Amaya’s ripe breasts, then, needing more, she slid her fingers over Amaya’s stomach until she reached the smooth juncture between her thighs. Portia stroked the soft skin, then dipped her finger into Amaya’s warm wetness.
“Ooooh, Bella!” Amaya gasped. “More!”
Portia began a slow back and forth rhythm, gently stroking Amaya’s engorged clit. Portia then used her fingers to carefully spread her moistening pussy lips. Then she stroked even faster, loving how the wet flesh slipped smoothly between her fingers.
Amaya groaned, an uncontrollable heat threatening to consume her. “I can’t wait any longer, Bella!”
She bent her head and quickly slurped up one of Portia’s taut nipples.
“Oooooh!” Portia threw her head back, tingling sensations racing all through her body. “Oh my God, yes!”
Amaya noisily kissed and licked the dark peak, swirling her tongue all around its surface. “You taste so good,” she moaned as she pulled the tip deep into her mouth.
For several long moments, Amaya went back and forth from nipple to nipple, kissing, nipping and licking each breast in turn, giving equal oral attention to both. She grinned when she heard Portia’s moans increase in intensity, then she licked even harder and faster. Finally, with Portia almost at her peak, Amaya lifted her head.
“I want even more, Bella,” Amaya whispered.
She knelt down in front of Portia and nudged her legs apart. “Oh, Bella,” Amaya moaned into Portia’s midsection. “I’ve been wanting to taste this peach since I first met you,” she moaned as she cupped Portia’s ass and pulled her tight.
Portia closed her eyes, giving herself fully to the Latin goddess kneeling before her. “Please?” she begged. “Please!”
Amaya used her fingers to gently spread Portia’s pussy open. She admired the deep pink color, but when Portia’s intimate fragrance hit her nostrils, she jumped into action. Amaya’s tongue snaked deep into Portia’s wet pussy.
“Oh my God!” Portia moaned. “Oh yesss!”
Amaya’s tongue lapped at Portia’s pussy, licking and sucking all of the sweet nectar that flowed from her core. Her tongue danced all over the soft flesh, tracing wicked designs that made Portia weak with desire.
“Oh Bella,” Amaya moaned into her wetness. “You taste sooo good, honey!”
Portia completely forgot that she was standing in the women’s locker room, exposed for all to see, and lost herself in the powerful sensations coming from her throbbing pussy. She threw her head back and moaned, suddenly consumed with a need to cum in Amaya’s mouth.