Skin Folk: Stories by Nalo Hopkinson

Author:Nalo Hopkinson [Hopkinson, Nalo]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Single Authors, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Genre Fiction, Horror, Alien Invasion, Dark Fantasy, United States, Science Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Short Stories, Short Stories & Anthologies
Amazon: B00QN352PG
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2015-01-27T05:00:00+00:00

I peek over my bubbies and belly at she. She sitting in between my legs like if it ain’t have nothing wrong with that. She two massive legs pinning my own big ones down, brown on brown. I see she cocoa pod pum-pum, spread open pink and glistening, going to brown at the edges. Lord, what a thing. “I ain’t feel finish yet, I feel like it have more.”

She give me that rapscallion smile. “Oh yes, it could have plenty more.”

She start to stroke my button again, gentle. I glad for that, for it feeling tender. Nice, though. I ain’t really get surprised when she push a finger inside my pum-pum. Then another one. I do that myself, plenty times. I thought is only me do that. Me and my nastiness. I start to relax back on she fine white bedspread again, but all of a sudden I sitting up and pulling she hands away. “No. Stop.”

She stop one time. “You don’t like it?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” Then I bust out with, “I just feel . . . I not a glove you does wear for you to go inside me like that.”

She just stroke my thighs, with a look on she face like she thinking. “All right, then. Let we try something else.”

Just like that? “Is all right?”

“Yes, K.C. Everybody different. You must tell me what you like and don’t like. Move over so I could lie down.”

I make room for she. She lie down on she back with one knee bend. “Touch me like I touch you.”

Lord, but this thing hard to do. The way the boys and them talk, I did think it would be easy; just pay the woman and she fix you up.

I do she like she do me. I massage she shoulders, I play with she bubbies. So strange. Like touching my own, almost.

“Pull them.”

I ain’t know what she mean. She put she nipples between my fingers.

“Pull.”

I tug little bit.

“Harder.”

So I ’buse up she breasts for she. It look like she good and like it, though. She breathing coming in heavy. It make me feel good. Powerful. I knead she belly, and she spread open she legs for me. The pum-pum smell rise from she, like I used to smelling it on myself. I know that smell like my life. I start to relax. I rub she little button, but that ain’t seem to sweet she so much. She only screwing up she face and twitching little bit when I touch she. I stop. “I not doing it right.”

“It ain’t have no right nor wrong, my fisherman. Just stroke it from the top to the bottom, very gentle.”

Oho. Treat she tot-tots hard on top, she pum-pum soft down below. I could do that. I make the touch light, so light. In two-twos she start to say, “Mm,” and “Ah,” quiet-quiet like the first soft breeze of morning. I look at she face. She head only rolling from side to side, she eyes shut tight.

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