Page 58 of Race With The Devil

“Stop, stop!”

But I wouldn’t detach. I wanted to bring her down slowly.

“No more! Oh, God! No, no, no! Stop!”

At last, I did. I sat back on my bare feet, reluctantly sliding my finger from her, satisfied with my handiwork, wiping my face on my forearm. Her pussy looked like a stunning Georgia O’Keeffe painting, shiny and bulb-like. At last she relaxed into a somewhat normal panting, one hand limp on her stomach. I couldn’t resist one last tweak, capturing her bud between her pussy lips and rubbing.

She slapped my hand away harshly, an automatic reaction. “Stop!” she cried, jolting to a sit. Her expression had an air of mischief and ire. I couldn’t tell which one I liked best.

“Damn,” I said, happy as a dead pig in the sunshine. “You are one sizzling firecracker.”

Now she became modest, crossing her legs and looking demure. “Well. You bring it out in me. Now let me reciprocate.”

“Screw that.” I stood, painfully aware that my prick stood out like a rose among the daisies. I put my hands on my hips to show I wasn’t ashamed. “Tonight’s all about you. You’re the delicate, damaged doe.”

“Oh yeah?” sneered Unity, pointing to her anchor. “Does this look like an injured doe to you?”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

She stuck out her lower lip. “Well. While we’re on the subject. What’s that?” She pointed at my midsection.

I had to think awhile. My dick?

“No, no, no,” she said hurriedly, getting off the bed to point more accurately. “That.”

Oh. My awkward, crude rose cutting on my hip. Ten years later, it just looked like a blob of scars, like a cauliflower.

“I cut myself,” I had to admit. Before she could mock me for my hypocrisy, I rushed to tell the story. “I was in the hole, nothing to do. I was sent there quite often, whenever I’d give a radio interview protesting my innocence. A guard was nice enough to slide me a knife to kill myself with, so I used it to cut this rose.”

Unity looked up at me, nose wrinkled skeptically. “Rose?”

“Yeah, I know. Not nearly as nice as your roses.” I caressed her arm. “When the guard saw blood, though, he freaked out and came into my cell. I could’ve strangled him with one arm and disarmed him, but I didn’t. My case toward having my sentence vacated was proceeding with Slushy. I could’ve raped him, but I don’t play that shit. Instead I . . . “

“What?” whispered Unity, bending to grab her Grand Canyon shirt. When she stood, sticking her head through the neck hole, I still hadn’t answered. “What?” said the hovering head, eyes round.

I helped her tug the shirt down. “Instead I allowed him to suck my prick. I made him lick all the blood from my cut, like a domineering thing. Then I knew I had one up on him, and he’d never dare punish me again.”

“Were you right?”

“You bet your ass. He even told the board I was an exemplar prisoner, leading me right down the path to having my sentence vacated.”

“Did you come?”

“What?”

“Did you, you know, orgasm?”

“Hey.” I wagged my finger at her. “If you’re saying if I came I must’ve enjoyed it, and if I must’ve enjoyed it I must be gay, forget about it. Sure I came. It’s the stimulation against the glans, the corpus cavernosum, that does the trick. It could be anything—a blowup doll, a plastic pussy, a sock. You know how men are.”

“True. They’ll fuck anything. So, you came in his mouth.”

“Now, let’s not get technical,” I said, glad when she went off to the can.

As for me, I poured a plastic cup of Jameson’s. The fiery liquid burned, taking the edge off. Unity had just learned a lot of things about me. She could consider me a hypocrite if she was prone to that sort of thing. Then again, I knew a lot about her. Wasn’t that part of trust? Trusting the other person not to use that damning information against you?

Taking the cup to the nightstand, I got under the covers and leaned back against the headboard. I wondered where she would choose to sleep. Either way was fine with me. I’d always known innately to take things slowly with this woman. And it seemed to be working.

When she emerged, she looked around the room for me. I was pleased to see a slightly concerned look on her face when she didn’t immediately see me. When her eyes lit on my figure in bed, she laughed with relief. She bounded over, tits bobbling under the kokopellis on her shirt. Taking a little jump, and landed on her knees on the mattress, practically making me spill my Jameson’s.