Kissing him tenderly, she looked into his eyes and inquired, “You okay with me stayin’ all night, darlin’?”
When he glanced at me, I said, “Hey, that’s up to you two—I’ve got her until I fly out next Monday so I can spare her for a naughty night out I suppose. But I need to know if you’re planning on working locally with me tomorrow or do you want to go on over to New Orleans to see your aunt? If so, I’ll have to change our reservations.”
Blondie squirmed her ass enticingly, kissed his cheek and suggested, “Whyn’t you stick around here another night, baby?”
She joked playfully, “An’ I’ll cancel all my other dates for tomorrow night, okay?”
Putting the long pink nail of her forefinger under his chin, she tilted it up for a soft kiss. “Matter of fact, I’ll just call in sick if you feel like keepin’ this little party goin’ all day when we wake up tomorrow mornin’.”
Looking at me, she plucked the roach from the ashtray and put the Bic lighter to it, and after taking a couple of deep hits, said lazily,
“Actually, I think I’m gonna do that anyway—an’ maybe see if I can’t persuade you gentlemen to spend the day with me, just enjoyin’ ourselves, either here, out by the pool, or in the hot tub down at our place. Betcha I can keep both your minds off business for the day, no problem.”
She held the joint for him as he took a couple of deep tokes then she handed it to me. We lived in a bayside neighborhood about ten miles south of downtown, with views of the bay from the hot tub sunk into the deck on the backside of our very comfortable contemporary home, a well-appointed, perfect, sexual playpen.
Blondie said, “You can stay with us tomorrow night, baby—we got plenty of room—with a real comfortable spare bedroom…” she fixed me with a level gaze and purred,
“Where I’m sure mon mari cocu won’t mind sleepin’ for a night or two while you an’ me share the master bedroom with the hot tub right outside the slidin’ door. She eyed me, “N’est-ce pas vrai (Isn’t that right) sugar?”
While the idea giving up my bed to my boss didn’t hold much appeal, the idea of my cuddly little Cajun kitten sharing it with him most certainly did, so I’d keep my mind open. Knowing Blondie, she’d use such an experience to flay some cuckold flesh from her husband’s hide.
The fresh dope hit me suddenly as it must have her, because she twisted her upper torso, her naked breasts pressing into Beau’s chest, and pulled his face to hers for a long loving kiss. His arms enfolded her, mashing those pale, pink-tipped cones into his ebony pectorals and I was again mesmerized by the erotic vision of muscular black arms contrasted against Blondie’s creamy torso.
After but a couple of minutes of increasingly impassioned kissing, she let out a long, soft and quite evidently pleased moan. She grinned at me,
“I do believe somethin’ I’m sittin’ on is tellin’ me Beau’s ready to get this party goin’ again.”
Putting her small hands on his chest, she pushed away gently, saying, “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get on that bed an’ do what we came here to do.”