Ain't Your Bitch (Interracial Urban Erotica) Read online

  Ain't Your Bitch

  Interracial Urban Erotica

  Asia Marquis

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  Looking around me, I'm a bit mesmerized. The chains hanging from the ceiling, the table that's slanted with leather cuffs bolted to it. The windows are covered with thick black curtains and on a dresser is an assortment of dildos in a myriad of sizes. Who knows what's in the drawers of the dresser. Could be anything. My guess is that it holds more sex toys, whips, chains, butt plugs.

  Oh, hell. What have I gotten myself into?

  My name is Jazmine Malik, and I'm a 19 years old proud black woman. My mother came from Nigeria when she was only 8, and has taught me my culture since the day I was born.

  I started college this year after a gap year where I spent time in South Africa with my mother. I was 18, then. It was ostensibly a missions trip but we spent most of our days on the beach and very little time in the hospital where we were meant to be entertaining children. It's not like we're slackers. The nurses kicked us out because we were in the way.

  We ended up in a little house on a beach with soft, white sands. It was rare that we would see anyone else on this beach except past the huge rocks where the public portion was. Our small house was next to a few others, and then down the way was a huge house with a dog that was always on the balcony, watching us and barking when we passed by.

  Every morning that same balcony had a man, his white skin strange to see in this land though of course not unheard of. I wondered often if he was a doctor, but he didn't have the same late hours as most doctors in this country.

  Even though he was far away, I could tell that his cheek bones were high and defined and his nose and chin were both strong. He had the look of a wealthy man summering away from an overbearing mother and a business that would have him dead at 35 from a heart attack.

  On my morning runs I'd sometimes wave to him. He'd chuckle and wave back, but for a long time that was the extent of our interaction. It wasn't until I missed my morning run that I finally got to speak to him... and more.

  That morning, my mother had suddenly come down with a mystery illness, and I had to rush her to the same hospital where we were meant to be working. When I left her there in the late afternoon, I was starving and my face was puffy from crying. At that point, I still didn't know if my mom would be okay so my features were contorted with worry and pain.

  “You don't look so good.” The words came from behind me while I was in line at the only fast food place in town. “Are you sure you should be eating fast food instead of soup?”

  Turning around, I find the man from the balcony behind me. His face is as chiseled and perfect as I thought it would be, his black eyes burning into my soul. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to reach out and touch his face, but I hold myself back.

  “I just need to eat. We don't have a working stove in our little place.”

  “Come with me, I'll make you something at my house. Do you like chicken noodle soup? I have a recipe my maid taught me when I was ten.” He takes my arm and leads me out of the restaurant and helps me into the passenger seat of his car. It isn't brand new and the wheels are dusty, but it's still definitely a wealthy man's car.

  A white man who learned to cook from a maid. I didn't want to trust him, but I wasn't in a position to deny him.

  I denied him anyway. “I really shouldn't be doing this.”

  “Nonsense,” he says as he slides into his seat.

  “I don't want to impose.”

  “You're not imposing. I invited you. I practically dragged you into my car. If you continue to fight me on this, I'll assume you hate me.”

  I shut up. And then, as we get close to his house, I think of my mother. The hospital will call my cell phone if something happens, but her face was so pale and she threw up so much. She could die. She could die away from Dad and the rest of the family.

  I feel sick, but I also start to cry. Softly, silently at first, but then the tears grow heavier and so do my sobs. The man doesn't say anything, he just drives and lets me cry it out. I'm thankful for that. It would have been embarrassing for him to try and comfort me.

  When my tears finally stop and I'm just a sniffling mess, he finally asks me what happened.

  “My mom is in the hospital. She's very sick.”

  “I'm so sorry to hear that. If there's anything I can do, let me know.”

  I nod and he pulls in front of his large house. “Do you live here alone?”

  “During the summer, yes. This is my time away from work.”

  “I see.” I watch the house quietly for a few minutes, the dog wagging his tail and barking down at us. “I don't even know your name.”

  “It's Richard.”

  “And your dog's name?”

  “Sassy.” He smiles. “Come on, you should meet her. I think she'd like you.” He jumps out of the car and before I can even get my seat belt off he opens my door for me. I'm surprised by how much of a gentleman he is. He helps me up the steps to his door, which he unlocks and then lets me step inside. The front room has a leather couch and smells like cinnamon and smoke.

  “Sorry for the smell, I was burning incense while I meditated.”

  “You meditate?” Usually it's the Asian doctors here who are spiritual. The Christian missionaries are much more utilitarian than that.

  He nods. “During the summer. I should all year, but I never have time. I was actually using cinnamon because I was trying to draw a woman into my life.” He glances at me from the corner of his eyes and my face grows hot.

  “Uh, so, what do you do for a living?”

  “I'm the Director of Operations of Wallif International.”

  I gasp. “No way! The media company?!”

  Chuckling, he nods and opens the door to the balcony. The blonde lab skitters into the room, her nails clicking against the hard wood floor as she rushes up to me and licks my fingers. I pet her head. “The one and only. I'll get the soup going, you can sit here and get to know Sassy.”

  The dog is a sweetheart. I brush her soft hair with my fingers, sitting cross legged on the floor. Petting her calms me down, even though I am still horribly worried about my mom. I check my phone, but there are no text messages and no missed calls. Hopefully that's good news.

  I'm gnawing on my bottom lip when Richard sticks his head back into the room. “Ten minutes before it's done. Are you old enough to drink?”

  I consider lying, but shake my head. “No.”

  “Well, that's okay. We're not in America. You're over eighteen at least?”

  I laugh, nodding. “Yeah, I am. Can I help you with anything? Setting the table or... whatever?”

  “No, make yourself at home. This is going to be the worlds most informal dinner. We're going to eat on the table in the living room and watch TV, if that's okay with you.”

  “Sure!” I say, happy that I won't have to try to remember table manners I was never really taught. I mean, I wasn't raised a savage but who knows which fork is used for the salad, right?

  Pushing myself up from the floor, I flit over to the couch and turn on the TV. I pull my long hair away from my neck and over my left shoulder as I channel surf.

  Richard comes back into the room and stops dead in his tracks, a tray with tw
o huge bowls in his hands. “Wow.”

  Looking up at him, I furrow my eyebrows. “What?”

  He shakes his head and moves to bring the soup to the table. “It's just, with your hair to the side like that you look really stunning. I mean, you already do, but you'd look really nice with your hair tied like that.”

  I laugh in disbelief and roll my eyes. “Alright, turn down the charm.”

  He chuckles. We both sit on the floor, our legs crossed under the glass table. When he shifts to sit a little closer to me, our pinkies touch and my whole body goes hot. He glances at me again, his thick eyelashes hiding some thought or maybe... a desire? I can't tell. When he moves his hand away again, the moment fades and we both blow on a spoonful of soup.

  “Holy crap, this is delicious! Kind of spicy, too. I've never tasted soup like this!”

  “I learned from the best!” He says, taking the TV controller. “Do you mind if I turn on the news?”

  “Go ahead,” I say from behind my glass of wine. When I put it down again, I see that he's staring at me. “What?”

  He doesn't move for a second. He just watches me, his eyes somehow predatory. Richard's thumb comes up to my bottom lip and dabs it. “You had some wine,” he says, his voice low. Opening his mouth, he sucks the drop of wine from it, and my whole body goes so weak it's a struggle to turn back around and lift up my spoon for more soup.

  “I wasn't just flattering you, by the way.” With that, he turns his attention to the television, which we watch in silence. I wonder at this man. Why did he pick me up today? What made him decide to be kind to some random girl?

  After downing the rest of my wine, Richard pours some more from me. He does it absent mindedly, and after the second glass I am feeling tipsy. “Hey, where's the bathroom?” I ask. When I turn my head to look at him, the room spins a little bit.

  “Oh, down that hall, first door on the left.” He points at the hall between the living room and the kitchen. I try to push myself up, but my feet are asleep from sitting on the floor and my head is light from the wine.

  “Whoa!” I yell, toppling over. Richard and Sassy both rush to my side.

  “Are you okay?” Richard asks, taking my hand as I use the other to save my face from Sassy's tongue.

  Blushing once he gets me to my feet, I nod my head. “Yeah. I just... I'm not a drinker.” Looking up through my eyelashes at him, I smile sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  “Don't be,” he says, sliding his hand down my arm. It leaves a trail of tingling warmth on my dark skin. “I should have asked before pouring you more wine.”

  My head feels heavy. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom now,” I say, pushing past him and patting my hot face with my cool hands. The bathroom is small,but beautifully decorated with white lilies and gray tile. I wonder if Richard has a maid who comes in? I wonder if he sleeps with her?

  The sudden turn to sex makes my already hot face throb with embarrassment. What do I care who he has sex with? But God, wouldn't it be nice to be the one he fucks from behind while I watch him in this bathroom mirror?

  While I'm washing my hands I check my face. It's still red, but the blushing is dying down. My panties, though, are soaked, my slit wet from thinking about Richard touching me between my thighs. I'm a virgin, a good girl, but in the back of my mind I always want to be a bad girl. I want to be touched and worshiped by a sexy man. Richard is the sexiest man I've ever known, too.

  Hell, I need to stop thinking about this.

  When I step out of the bathroom, I shake my hands and try to compose myself. Oh, how I wish I could have composed myself...

  Instead, I fell to my knees with a gasp as the whole room stirred and swirled around me.

  “Jazmine!” Richard shouts, running to my side. My knees hurt, badly. “Jazmine, are you alright?”

  “Just... dizzy,” I whisper, pressing my hand against my forehead. “Really dizzy.”

  Richard stands and then scoops me up into his strong arms. “You're going to lay down. I shouldn't have given you wine. That was extremely stupid on my part.”

  My eyes are heavy. I only nod. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.

  The next morning, I wake up in a strange room. The faint smell on incense is wafting into the room, covering me with a sense of well being. I can hear humming, too, soft but constant.

  Standing up, I find myself in a long button down shirt. My mouth falls open. Did Richard change me?

  Wandering out of his room and down the hall, I find Richard sitting cross legged with his eyes closed. The sun is spilling in through the window that he's facing. I watch him, admiring the laugh lines around his mouth and his strong, square jaw. His lips look soft.

  My head throbs all of a sudden. “Ungh,” I moan, pressing my hands against my skull.

  “You're awake!” When I look up, Richard is pushing himself up from the ground. His eyebrows are furrowed. “Do you have a headache? You really are a lightweight.”

  “Shut up,” I groan. “Do you have anything to fix it?”

  “Yeah, I have some aspirin. Come with me.”

  He takes me to the kitchen, then pulls out a bottle of pills from the cabinet by his fridge. He hands two of them to me and a glass of water, and I down them both. With the water, I almost instantly feel better. “Who the hell does this for fun?”

  “Masochists,” Richard says, smiling.

  I laugh, and then look down at my body again. My face flushes bright pink. “Did- did you?”

  “Change you? I helped you, when you woke up at four AM complaining about your clothes being uncomfortable. Don't worry! I didn't take advantage of you.”

  Relief washes over me. “I don't even know why I thought you might have. You could have like, any woman in the world. Why would you settle for some weirdo eighteen year old girl who's never even had a drink before?” Scoffing, I look up into Richard's eyes. What I see isn't laughter. It's a strange emotion, something stern and full of fire. He grabs me at the back of my head and pulls me in so close that I feel the heat from his lips.

  “Stop talking badly of yourself. I wanted to touch you, to feel your soft, dark skin beneath my finger tips. I still do now.” With each word he undoes a button, and then grabs me from behind my back, pulling me closer to him. I feel his manhood pressing against my pelvis. “But I'm not a scumbag that take advantage of beautiful women like that. Especially not strong black women, like you.”

  Me? A beautiful woman? I want to laugh in his face, but then again, no I don't. I shudder, and he finally presses his lips against mine and everything seems right. My hands grab his shirt, holding on for my life because I feel like if I let go the whole world is going to explode. How could I live outside of these kisses? They're so full of life, of energy, of happiness. I never want this to stop.

  He pulls away. “Do you want me to show you how beautiful I think you are, Jazmine? Maybe I could have any woman in the world, but I have never had this hunger for anyone before. You're special. I don't know what it is, but you are unique. I want to devour you.” His mouth falls to my neck, his teeth sinking into my black skin. He bites, hard, but it feels good more than it hurts.

  “Ah,” I gasp. “Richard!”

  “Moan my name louder,” he demands. He bites my neck again as his hand squeezes my ass. Then he pulls his shirt apart, the last few buttons flying off. “Moan it!”

  “Richard!” I gasp for breath. His hand presses against my mound, a place no one has ever touched other than myself. “Richard, don't stop!”

  When his hand slips under my panties, a finger dips between my folds. He gently rubs my pussy, pushing the lips apart to slide his fingers up and down my slit before gently penetrating me with his fingertip. It doesn't go too deep.

  I'm excited and jittery about him masturbating me, pushing my panties aside and kissing me. I want his lips on me at all times, his fingers exploring every part of me.

  Pushing myself towards his hand, I shudder with the pleasure his finger gives me. His thumb rubs
gently against my clitoris. It feels even better than when I touch myself there. Much better. It sends tingling waves through my whole body.

  I rest my head against his shoulder and let him hold me, cradle my body close to his as he manipulates my pleasure zones. He pulls my bra down, exposing one of my breasts. My nipple is hard, sticking out towards him and beckoning his mouth to engulf it. He sucks and kisses on my breast, savoring the taste of my chocolate skin on his tongue.

  The finger within me moves in and out, deeper and deeper until it hits my virginity. He stops pushing it in further, instead just pleasuring me without breaking my hymen.

  Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of me and shoves me against the wall. Picking me up a little, he wraps one of my legs around his torso and unzips his pants.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  I take a deep breath, looking up into his dark eyes before nodding my head. He pushes some hair off of my forehead and kisses my nose before pushing his hard cock into me.

  It hurts a little at first, since it's dry. Once the head is covered in my juices, it slides into me with ease, and then pushes past my hymen. I gasp with pain, but the pain is gone quickly. I look up to him with tears in my eyes and then smile.

  “That's the worst of it. I'm going to start thrusting a bit now.”

  I nod again, and then grab his shirt at the shoulders. His penis is engulfed by my warm, moist flesh. At first I was still, letting him slowly rock into and out of me, but then I start to ride him. With my ass wiggling, we both pick up speed, driving ourselves to orgasm.

  We both breathe hard, my breaths mixed with loud moans. I like sex! This is good! Especially with Richard. Something inside of me clicks over suddenly, and I feel a great release of all my stress and a wave of emotions wash over me. I orgasm around Richard's cock, just as he cums inside of me.

  Still in his arms, Richard carries me over to his bed. We spend the rest of the morning there, holding each other and napping.

  When I get up, I slip out from under Richard's arm and into the bathroom. Checking the mirror, my face is much different then it was before. My dark black skin is there, but with a sort of glow, and I am happy. Smiling, even when my lips aren't. Something about this man feels so right, so perfect. I wish-