Colleague knows my likes and dislikes
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Something Like That free porn video
"FUCK!"
"FUCK!"
"FUCK!"
The words bang out, followed by a locker door slamming shut, the metallic bang echoing in the large concrete locker room. Coach is off to a staff meeting, so it's only me and whoever is having a fit about eight aisles down. Channeling my inner Adams, I gather up a handful of towels and make my way to the eruption.
I find her in the aisle just before Varsity Corner, where the team maybes get lockers until they prove their worth. She is half way down, sitting on the dividing bench, hands behind her head and elbows on her knees. She is wearing team sweat pants and a red sports bra. She is strongly built with coffee and light cream skin and shoulder length dreds. I walk down and drop my bundle of towels on the floor beside her. She jumps and swings around sharply. Her eyes are red and a thin wet line streaks her cheeks.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Kis"
"Kiss? I'm not kissing you! You lookin' to get stitched up, bitch?
I grin and hold up my index fingers about six inches apart, "Kistin," then move them in to an inch, "Kis."
A glimmer of a smile lights and softens her face. She raises her hands, mimicking mine.
"Camellia" "Cam"
"Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm coach's gym bitch and do-all," leaning back against the lockers to face her, "I know you're new here, so what's up? Somebody bite you already?"
"Found this," she grates out, pulling open her locker and tossing me a crumpled paper.
I smooth it out. Scrawled in red ink are the words 'STOP STARING AT ME YOU LITTLE BLACK BITCH' underscored twice. I recognize the writing and the intent.
"Bad enough I gotta fit here in white heaven, now I got a fucking racist. . ."
"She likes you."
"Wait, what? She likes me?" she stammers, holding up her hands and rocking her head from side to side. "Who fucking likes me? What the fuck, girl?"
"Parker Peterson. Big blond. Soccer team captain. She likes feisty girls, so this is her way of shaking hands, seeing who likes to bite back," holding the note out to her.
She takes it and stares, then looks up at me.
"So she's some kinda dyke and giving me a poke in the gut to see if I'm queer? That's fucked up, you know, right?"
"Most of us just say hey, wanna get a coffee?, but yeah, she is and this is her subtle way of tapping new blood."
"Yeah. Okay." She shakes her head, trying to take it in, then tilts me a look, ". . . most of us?"
I take a seat astride the bench, sliding around her question.
"So, you're softball, right?"
"Yeah, catcher. I wanted to do senior year with a top team, so asked to play here. Done deal when coach saw me hit the long ball."
"I bet," letting my eyes caress the ropy, thick muscles of her arm.
"So, what you playing at, Kis?"
"Nothing here. I'm a hiker and climber, but coach wants me for basketball, so I'm hers till I come around. I hate basketball."
"No, I mean what's with this?" Cam asks, with a wave of her hand between us, "I ain't stupid, girl, I can see your eyes working me. This your way testin' blood?"
"No," I chuckle, "I'm more your art department kinda queer. We just keep our eyes and hearts open, tasting joy where we can find it."
"Oh," Cam says quietly and pauses, "I. . . I paint a little." She looks at me, her eyes soft and questioning.
"Then there's hope for you yet," I whisper and tilt her head with a gentle hand. I lean in and touch a moist kiss on her beautiful full lips. I feel her stiffen and read the doubt and hesitation in her eyes. I offer her another, longer, but not pressing her, just letting our connection flow, her cheek warm in the palm of my hand. I feel the tension drain away and watch her eyes slowly close. I softly flick my tongue along her lips and her mouth eases open, the tip of her tongue making a tentative advance. I meet it in the middle and slowly let them twine like two feathers dancing. She moans deep in her chest, then jerks back with a start. I look into her wide open, unblinking eyes.
"Your first with a girl?"
She gives a small, shaky nod.
"Like?"
"Oh, fuck," she groans, grabbing my head in both hands and kissing me hard, her doubts cast aside like Parker's crumpled note.
Her mouth is open on mine, her tongue searching and aggressive now. I slide my hand down and find her breast, feeling a nipple pushing out hard against my palm. I draw my fingers in and give it a soft squeeze. Cam shivers and lets out a low, guttural growl in response. I pull back, breaking our kiss and look up at the big clock on the wall.
"I really hate to stop, baby, but there's going to be a mess of girls coming through the doors in about a minute."
"Oh fuck! I'm gonna be late for English! Shit!" She exclaims, jumping up and pulling off her top, treating me to a look at her plump breasts resting high on her muscled chest and the large, fat nipples I was just caressing.
"You have Ms Jackson?" She nods rapidly, digging out a bra and tee shirt from her locker.
"No worries then. Just tell her you were with coach. She'll. . . understand."
She stops and shoots me a look, then shakes her head.
"You people are seriously fucked up."
I stand and pull her to me, leaning down for a last kiss.
"See you at lunch, baby," I murmur, easing back. I retrieve my towels and head up the aisle.
"Aren't you glad you transferred?"
------------ 2
"You sure this is alright, Kis? I can't get into trouble, got enough shit to worry about with classes and practise."
"We're good, Cam, nothing to worry about."
I pull a ring of keys out of my backpack and unlock the big blue door. In its center a sign reads 'SPECIAL PROJECT STUDIO / By Instructor Permission Only / STAY OUT.' I grab my bags in one hand and reach around for the light switch. I turn back to Cam, who is peering at me with an arched eyebrow and her arms crossed.
"Come on."
"What are you, keeper of the secret keys?"
"Ms Sparks trusts me and likes my work, so I get to use the room when I want. Spend most lunches here."
"Likes your work, huh? You and her. . . ?"
"Nope. She is definitely into men, generally more than one at a time from the pictures I've seen," dropping my bags on a long work table running down one wall, "And don't you dare tell anyone I said that!" aiming a finger at her.
"Who the hell would I tell? You're the only person I know to talk to, bitch."
"Or kiss?" moving back to her and stroking her cheek with the backs of my nails.
"Mmmm, yeah, that too," pulling my head down and giving my lower lip a stroke with her tongue. I put my arms around her and meet her lips. Her fingers twine in my short hair while I glide my hands down her back and over the tight cheeks of her ass, giving each a firm squeeze. She slowly shifts her hips from side to side and I can feel her breasts moving over my chest. I give out a groan as I pull back from her.
"God, you're a good kisser for a virgin."
"Natural athletic talent, baby. And who says I'm a virgin? I've had boyfriends!"
"Boys aren't were I play, remember?" giving her a grin and a poke, "Now, let's get to work, don't have much time."
I move to the table and pull my camera from its bag, checking the battery and putting in a new memory card. I walk to the end of the room where there is a low riser and a couple of old chairs. I move a garishly carved wing-back to the center. On the wall behind backdrops are hanging like roll-up blinds. I poke through them and pull down a white and gray mottle. I flip on side lights and shift them around till the shadows look right.
"The floor's a little cold, but you can leave your socks on. Dump your clothes on the table and come up when you're ready," I call out as I visualize the shots I want.
"Ahem."
I turn around with a start. Cam is standing right behind me, naked, her hands crossed in front of her. I feel like I have frozen solid. Her body is thick with muscle, but with a curvy softness at the same time. As my eyes slowly flow down from her breasts with their deeply tempting nipples, she lets her hands go, revealing a 3" wide strip of dense black hair rising up from between her legs.
"I okay?" she asks quietly.
"For every single thing I can think of doing. You are one seriously beautiful woman, Cam."
She looks down, embarrassed by the lust in my voice. I give my head a shake to break the siren's hold and put out my hand.
"Up here. Sit in the chair. No pose yet, just have to take some tests for light and settings." I fire off a dozen shots as I walk back and forth in front of her. I give them a look, then fiddle the lights a bit.
"This is one ugly fucking chair," she says, tapping the arm with a finger.
"I know, but it shoots good in black and white."
"Okay, sit back and turn left -- no, my left. There. Relax your legs. Right heel on the rung, hands on the arms. Head a little bit right and up. Perfect. . ." as I begin shooting. "Let you face relax, no, don't smile, eyes up, look far away, that's it. . . now serious, broody. . . yeah" coming in close, catching the light flowing down her rich brown skin like liquid silver.
"You're making this so easy, Cam, so fine."
"Wait till you get my bill. . ."
"Whatever you want, girl, name it." as I keep shooting tight shots of her body.
"Dinner. Like a date dinner. Dress up and sit down dinner. None of your raggedy ass tee shirts!"
"Done, tonight, 7:00. I'll wear my best suit and tie," I answer with a smile.
She lets out a snort, then adds, "Italian."
"Italian?"
"What the fuck did you think, girl? Chicken and waffles? I like Italian and I need the carbs."
"I know just the place," with a glance at the clock. I take off my camera and set it on the floor. I go and kneel at the side of the chair. I reach over and hook her right leg at the knee and lift it so it rests over the arm of the chair. She looks up at me with a question, which I ignore. I lift her left and drape it over the other.
"What the fuck, Kis? I ain't doing no porny shots!"
"I'm done shooting, baby. That is so I can do this. . ." and I slide my hand down over her rippled stomach and thread my fingers into the black curls on her mons. I lean in and pull her head to my hungry lips. Her mouth hesitates only a second before yielding to my advance. As our tongues tangle, my fingers continue down and cup her, drawing out a deep groan. I slowly press in one fingertip, then draw it up, spreading her lips and stopping against her clit. I wiggle it gently side to side and feel Cam jump with a soft yelp into my mouth.
"Like that, baby? Thinking about boyfriends now?"
"Oh fuck, Kis, oh fucking Jesus. . ."
I drag my finger down and back, drawing out her wetness and decorating her swelling clit. I drop my head and suck in a fat nipple, pulling hard, bathing it with my tongue, then letting it slide out between my teeth.
"Oh shit, oh shit. . . " she is shaking with little jerks, her eyes squeezed shut, as she reaches down to grab the hair beneath my palm, pulling it up to expose the pearly head of her clit. I pull away and move between her legs. She jumps as she feels my tongue touch her there for the first time. I lick up and down with my tongue, broad and flat, savoring her rich flavor. I flick her clit, then take it in, swirling it with my tongue. Her fingers are in my hair, pressing, her hips thrusting up against my face. I slide my hands up to her breasts, seeking her nipples, rolling them between my finger tips.
She jerks a clenched hand to her mouth and bites down, muting a deep, wailing cry of climax. I can feel the deep pulses ripple up her body, arching her back, rocking the chair. I wait till they begin to fade, then ease up, knowing how sensitive she is now. I paint her swollen cunt with soft, feathery kisses, bathing in her warmth, inhaling her fragrance.
"Sweet Jesus. . . Sweet Jesus. . . Sweet Jesus. . ." she husks out in a whisper, rocking her body side to side. I pull away and grab my camera. I lay out flat on my back and shoot up her body, shining with sweat and trembling, head tipped back, eyes closed, her face radiant in bliss. I shoot until tears cloud my eyes.
------------ 3
Apartment 21C is at the end of a short hallway in a neat, handsome brick building not far from school. I knock on the door and take a few steps back. From inside I hear a deep, melodic voice call "Coming."
I see someone moving across the peep hole, before the door opens. A tall, substantial woman fixes me with an eye.
"Yes?"
"Good evening. I'm Kistin. Cam is expecting me."
"Hmmm." giving me an unabashed up and down inquest with her eyes.
"Camellia! Your friend is here," she calls back over her shoulder, "Come in, young lady," holding the door open for me.
"I am Camellia's aunt, Miss Jones."
"You can wait here," she says, pointing to the coach in the bright living room.
"I'm pleased to meet you Miss. . . " I begin, but am cut off when Cam pokes her head around the hall corner.
"Hey, Kis. . . shit, girl, you weren't kidding!" staring at me in my white gabardine trousers and blue blazer.
"Camellia!"
"Sorry, auntie, but really! I'll be out in a bit!" she blurts and disappears.
"That child," she mutters, taking a prim seat on the coach. " Now, young lady, I don't abide games. What's your interest in her?" fixing me with a hard stare.
I fidget a touch in my seat, deciding on the path.
"Cam and I haven't known each other long, Miss Jones, but I like her. I like her a lot," I drop my head for a moment, then look her in the eye, "And we aren't just friends, I won't lie to you like that. We have been. . . intimate. I truly care about her."
"Uh huh. Truly care like maybe life together or just till it suits you? This isn't some tasty treat to toss aside, young lady. She's got talent and brains, though she keeps the brains hidden sometimes. And she's my charge, understand? My blood."
"Ma'am, I want you to know this truly, this is not some do a girl and then go home thing with me. I don't do that ever. I've had one other real love and that was taken from me. I know the heartbreak. I can't say where Cam and I will go, but I swear, I will never hurt her or cause her pain. This is from my heart, I'd die first." I feel small tears starting in my eyes and dab them away with a blush, "And that's God's truth."
"Hmmm. God's truth, huh? Hmmm. . ." Her stance is still upright and stern, as she contemplates me, but her face relaxes a bit, her eyes softening.
"I do think I believe you, child, but you better not disappoint me. You do not want to get on Miss Jone's bad side." she says meaningfully, with a wag of her finger, then settles back into the cushions.
"Now, ma'am, if I may. . ." lowering my voice, ". . . does she know about you?"
"What about me, girl?"
"About your own. . . inclinations?"
"What the hell do you know about my inclinations? You think you're reading me on that gaydar or somethin'?"
"Well, yeah. That and I saw you at Miss Rita's last Tuesday night. . ."
"What the hell were you doing at Miss Rita's? You're a damn child!"
"Well, I am eighteen, like Cam, but I was just there to look at her photo collection -- there's like thirty years of lesbian life locked away in those boxes in her office and I want to set it free!"
"Free, huh? Some things in those boxes best left hidden, I know that for true. And no, Camellia don't. Thinks I'm at church bingo. Gonna stay that way, too!" She fixes me with steely eyes, pointing a finger at my face, "Understood?"
"Oh yes, ma'am, you have my. . . "
"Ahem. . ."
We both look up to see Cam standing in the hallway door. She is wearing a dull gold halter top with a short black jacket and skirt that accentuates her curving hips. Her dreds are pulled back with a ribbon the same color red as her lips. Once again, I feel frozen in place, struggling to breathe.
"Well, don't you look pretty, girl!" her aunt exclaims.
I finally make it to my feet, trying to break my stare.
"Holy shit. . ." I mumble, then jerk around to Miss Jones, "Sorry, but. . ." splaying out my hands toward Cam.
"Go on, both of you, and have fun," she says with a chuckle, shaking her head. She fixes me with a look again, "Home by ten, Kistin, no later! She's got practice in the morning. Now go!" with a wave of her hands.
------------ 4
It's a few minutes before ten when Cam and I come up to her apartment door. She turns to me and I take her in my arms, staring into her eyes.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you are?"
"Only like a thousand times, you silly little dyke."
"Little? I'm taller. . . " and stop as she tilts her head back and cocks her eyebrow, shooting me a look. "Right, your silly little dyke -- and don't you ever forget it, baby," I whisper and lean down to kiss her. Behind us a door creaks open.
"Oh, ain't that sweet! Got yourself a boyfriend, Camellia?"
"Something like that, Mrs. Parsons," looking into my eyes and and fingering the nipple ring through my shirt, "Something like that. . ."
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