by Strongsouljah

Disclaimers: This story was written on a whim. If you are looking for a deep meaningful story, this is not the one to read. If you are under the age of 18, or if a loving relationship between two women is not your cup of tea, then please move on.

Sex: Not as much as I usually have.

Language: Not a lot of foul language.

Feedback: Please. My addy is Strongsouljah@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2001, Revised 2003 by Strongsouljah. All Rights Reserved.

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We rode home in complete silence. Jen was obviously pissed at me, but I couldn’t figure out why.

I just completed working on a piece for Newsweek. It took me two weeks to get that story the way I wanted it. I totally immersed myself in my work. That meant ‘you know who’ had been ignored. Jen understood how obsessed I became when I wrote and she never whined or complained about me not paying her enough attention. That’s one of the things I love about her.

Well, when the story was finished, I apologized and asked her what she wanted to do tonight to make up for it. She suggested we go dancing. Not really one for the club scene, but since it was Friday, I reluctantly agreed.

I showered and put on a pair of black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. I laced up my Doc Martens; the heavy ones just in case I had to kick a little ass. There was this one time a chick was pushing up on Jen hard and heavy. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I came up and quietly tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t. She started something and I finished it.

While Jen was in the shower, I decided I would put on my strap-on and wear it to the club. I thought maybe Jen and I would have an encounter in one of the stalls in the ladies room. We did once, and when we got home it became an all night thing.

As I waited for Jen, I decided to fix myself a drink. That was mistake number one. I should have known better than to start drinking.

“You ready, Rider?” she asked in that sweet Jamaican accent. Rider is what she called me. I really didn’t know if it was short for my name or if it was the way I rode her ass. She would never tell me.

I looked at her and my mouth watered. She had on this tight, form fitting black mini dress, sheer black stockings and stiletto heels. I could feel the pool of moisture as it formed between my thighs.

“Si, mi amor,” I told her, pulling her close to me. Close enough for her to notice that I was strapped.

She gave me a knowing look, and whispered, “Whatever you desire, Mami.”

We arrived at the club and met up with our friends, Maxine and Annette. We sat together and talked, and drank. I may have gone overboard on the Absolut and cranberry juice—mistake number two. Our song began to play, so I led her to the dance floor. Jen and I danced to ‘If This World Were Mine’ by Luther Vandross and Cheryl Lynn. I held her close, leaned over and nibbled on her ear. We looked in each other’s eyes, expressing with unspoken words our love for each other.

I pulled her closer to me, grinding against her as we danced. I blew into her ear, and then traced it with my tongue. I ran my tongue along her cheek, then down her neck.

“Ooh Mami, you keep that up and you may have to take me right here on the dance floor,” she whispered.

I slid my hand between us and rubbed against her heat. “I can take it out now, and give you a taste of it,” I said, breathing heavily against her ear.

Before she could respond, some fool pulled her girl too close to us and caused her to bump into Jen. Jen lost her balance a little and turned her ankle. The couple apologized and I helped Jen back to our table.

“No, I’ll just sit here for a while, and then test it out later,” she said, caressing my face and smiling.

So we sat and I had two more drinks. A girl from my old neighborhood came up to the table.

“Soraida!” she said smiling.

“Hey, Carmen, how are you?” I asked, returning her smile. “This is my girlfriend Jennifer. Jen, this is Carmen. We grew up in the same neighborhood.”

“Hi, Jen. Pleased to meet you,” Carmen said politely.

“Likewise.” Jen smiled at her. Carmen and I used to fool around a bit when we were younger. You know how it is, we learned how to kiss and fondle together.

“So what’s been happening?” I asked her, offering her a seat. She accepted.

“Nothing much, my grandmother has gone back home. She said she didn’t want to die here,” she told me.

“She’s still alive? She was damn near a hundred when we were kids,” I said, laughing.

She hit me on my arm as she laughed too. Maxine and Annette came back to our table, so I introduced them as well. After reminiscing for a while, she said she had better get back to her friends.

“Well, it was good to see you. Take care,” I told her smiling.

“I will. You do the same,” she said. Before she left, the DJ started playing a nice Latin groove. It was rare that she played any Latin music. “Jen, do you mind if I dance with an old friend?” Carmen asked her.

“Of course not,” she told her. Jen knew how much I loved to Salsa.

“You sure, baby?” I asked. That music was getting to my ass.

“Go ahead. Maybe I can catch the next one,” she said, and then she kissed me on my cheek.

I led Carmen to the dance floor. We found a little space and started dancing, a little Salsa at first. Then she moved closer to me and we started to do the Lambada—mistake number three. Not a good idea, but like I said, the vodka had me going.

There we were, in public, with my baby girl sitting at our table. She began to grind herself against my thigh. I was dancing, but she was doing something else. It was something that if she had done to me in my younger days, she would have been rewarded with a first class fucking.

“Back it up a little bit, Carmen. My girl is right over there,” I whispered close to her ear.

“We’re only dancing. She said it was okay,” she lustfully said.

As we danced I could feel her breathing becoming erratic. She moaned as she rode my thigh. The rhythm of the music, new pussy on my thigh, and the scent of her arousal made me drift a little bit. I involuntarily shifted and she felt my Jimmy. That’s what I called it.

“Soraida, is that...?” Her voice trailed of as my hand moved to her lower back. “Oh yeah, that’s it baby. Hit that spot,” she moaned.

She licked and kissed my neck. I must admit I was a little aroused, most likely due to the alcohol, but my body and soul belonged to Jen. I would never do anything to risk losing her. I quickly came back to my senses but without realizing it, I had Carmen off her feet. It was easy with my muscular 5’10’ frame. Her legs were wrapped around my waist and she was riding my jock. “Damn, estupida, what in the fuck are you doing?” I asked myself. I looked into her eyes and they were rolling back in her head. Shit, without realizing it, I had given her a dry hump and made her come.

I looked around to see if Jen or our friends had noticed, but they were busy talking.

I managed to get Carmen off my jock and back on the floor. She was weak so I helped her back to her table. She kissed me on my cheek and offered herself for later tonight. I quickly declined and headed over to the bar. I needed a drink. I got double vodka straight and tossed it back, then I returned to our table.

“Did you enjoy yourself, baby?” Jen asked.

“Yeah, it was okay,” I told her. I was drenched with sweat. I was also feeling guilty. I never let things get out of control like that before. I’ve danced with plenty of women since I’ve been with Jen. I just lost it. I wasn’t trying to get off…which I didn’t. I just wanted to dance.

After catching my breath, Jen asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hot as hell though,” I answered, trying to hide my guilt. I noticed she was sweating, too. “You want something to drink, baby?”

She smiled and told me she wanted a coke. I stood, smiling at her and noticing her take in the length of my body. Her smile faded. I thought I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. She suddenly stood and told our friends that she had a headache and she was going home. She walked right out, not saying a word to me. I ran out after her.

“Jen, baby what’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Are you coming or staying?” she asked angrily. I could see tears forming in her eyes. “Maybe your home-girl can bring you home.”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” I asked. I was beginning to get pissed off. "Why are you acting this way?"

“I’m going home. Stay if you want,” she said as she got in the car.

I had to move quickly to get in. She peeled out of that parking lot like a bat out of hell.

She said nothing to me. I continued to ask her what was wrong. When we got home, we got out of the car and went upstairs to our apartment.

“Jen, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, yet again.

She started to walk away from me but I gently grabbed her arm.

“Take your hand off of me,” she hissed. I could see she was crying.

“What did I do, Jen?” I asked. “Tell me what I did.”

“You know what you did. You disrespected me, damn you!” she screamed.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I demanded.

“You and your Dominican hoochie!” she yelled, a little louder this time. “I would have told your trifling ass in the club, but I don’t put my business on Front Street.”

“Carmen? I only danced with her,” I told her. “We were doing the Lambada, and it got a little out of hand.” Shit. What did I tell her that for?

“The Lambada, eh?” she asked sarcastically. “Well, it’s no wonder you have her cum on the front of your pants!” she screamed.

I immediately looked down, and there it was... a white spot on my pants. Carmen must have come harder than I thought.

“Jen, it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to get her off, honest. I was lost in the music when I noticed what she was doing,” I told her, almost pleading.

“Oh, you couldn’t tell that bitch was riding you? Yeah, right. I’m not stupid,” she said, and then she began speaking in Jamaican Creole. I knew that meant trouble.

I got closer to her. I looked into her eyes. “I didn’t disrespect you baby. I swear I didn’t. I love you, Jen.”

She looked at me, with hurt in her eyes. Suddenly there was another flash of anger, just before she slapped the hell out of me.

“I guess her lipstick jumped on your neck, then,” she hissed.

I stared wide-eyed at her. She had only slapped me once before. I had really fucked up that time. This time it was unintentional. She was going to slap me again but I grabbed her wrist.

“Let me go,” she said, crying.

“Jen, look at me,” I told her. She did. “I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, or deceive you. I love only you, baby, and I only want to be with you.” I paused, looking deeply into her eyes. “Look at me, Jen. Am I lying to you?”

She looked at me. Jen could quickly spot a lie coming from me before I could finish getting it out of my mouth.

“You’re not lying,” she tearfully said.

I kissed the hand she slapped me with, working down her wrist, then her arm.

We were in bed, with her on top and my jimmy deep inside her. She sat straight up on it, allowing her muscles to contract around it. My hands were around her breasts, gently squeezing her nipples. She started rolling her hips. Damn, that woman could move her ass. Why in the hell would she think that I would step out on her?

“I love you, baby girl,” I huskily told her.

“Ooh, Rider.” she moaned. “I love you too. Now shut up, and fuck me.” I switched our positions, my jimmy never losing contact with her. Needless to say, I rode her like she wanted me to, like I needed to.

The End

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