THREE DAYS AS THE CROW FLIES by DANNY SIMMONS

Author:DANNY SIMMONS
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Washington Square Press
Published: 2003-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Candace stopped reading and dashed down the steps to the pillow room to get herself some champagne. Melissa was snuggled between two large pillows, fast asleep. She was nude except for some old yellow panties. Her head was partially covered by a large, round pillow with a faux African print. Melissa was a mulatto with pale yellow, almost white skin. She had big, fat titties with deep rose-colored nipples and thick, supple thighs that ran into full hips and a narrow waist, with faint traces of stretch marks around it. Candace’s eyes lingered over her body, remembering that a few years ago, she and Melissa, high and alone together, had attempted to make love. It turned out badly, though. That night, both the mescaline and the half-assed pussy eating left them let down. Most of the night, they just sat together, nude and playing music. The love they had developed for each other since then was about more than hot, sweating bodies, and what they felt was far more important than sex, so they never tried it again.

Candace smiled to herself and took in the full measure of Melissa’s luscious body again and wanted to touch her. But she stepped carefully around her instead, filled a glass with champagne, and headed back out of the room. She stopped for a second and watched those big titties rise and fall a few more times, and her eyes lingered on the tufts of salt and pepper that poked out from beneath the edges of her frayed panties. Candy was glad that Melissa’s face was covered—the last thing she wanted was for Melissa to wake up and find her standing over her and staring at her. Her parting glance took in the delicate lattice the stretch marks made and the waves of silver hair that cascaded over the pillows. She left the room feeling a tangle of desire, admiration, and envy. She couldn’t wait to get back upstairs …

Climbing the steps, her butter thighs rubbed together. She felt the warm, wet and sticky juice from her pussy sliding down and between them. At the top of the stairs, she stopped and ran her hand between her legs and over her dripping lips and licked the warm wetness from them. Then she recited the last line of the piece she’d started earlier:

Covered completely by dark I see you so vividly now, your frantic rush to free me; but it’s all too late for your empty attempts, lines of others are forming behind you.

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