The Punany Experience (26 page)

“Damn, he makes my dick hard,” Korea said to herself.

Now that Stormy was gone, Korea was going to be able to fuck Hartford the way she really wanted to. She had cleared her entire calendar from Friday afternoon until Stormy was scheduled to be back on Tuesday. She was going to turn that motherfucker inside out over the next five days. But first, she needed to get rid of this bitch.

Fantasy Friday was uneventful for Melody that week. Korea hadn’t arrived at the office until ten o’clock. All of Melody’s advances had gone unnoticed, though she tried to make her issues known by the way she carried a noticeable attitude with her around the office as she performed duties she had not been required to since she was hired.

“Is there a problem?” Korea asked her when she dropped the file marked “The Cutting Board” on her desk.

“No. Of course not,” Melody said.

“Of course not,” Korea replied. “That will be all. You can go home early, if you’d like.”

“It’s only two, Ms. Smith.”

“So it is. Don’t worry about it. I will be out of the door by three o’clock myself.”

“Oh, is there some meeting I don’t know about?” Melody asked.

Korea replied only with a glance in her general direction. At first, she didn’t even notice that Melody had put her Fantasy Friday gear back on.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Melody. And please don’t embarrass me,” Korea said when she noticed the green shorts and fishnets she was wearing.

Melody sulked and closed Korea’s office door. She was failing in her assignment.

“Shit!” she said when she got back to her desk. Not sure what to do, she picked up the phone.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s me. It’s not going well. I think she’s tired of me already. It’s either that, or she has another woman. No. If she has someone else, it’s definitely not her wife. What should I do?” Melody listened carefully to her instructions, deciding to follow them to a “T” this time.

Before she left the office, she called Sally in HR and set up a lunch date for three.

K
OREA TOOK TWO FROZEN MEALS THAT
S
TORMY HAD PREPARED
for her from the freezer. The Tupperware containing a buttered lobster tail, sweet corn, and couscous was marked
Friday
. The smoked salmon, fresh garden snap peas, and brown rice was labeled
Saturday. “Do not microwave
,” Stormy had written. Korea put them on the counter and let them thaw while she got her bedroom ready for Hartford. As she ripped the sheet off the bed and replaced the fitted Egyptian cotton with a rubber sheet she had stopped off at a little specialty shop to pick up, she wondered if Stormy had arrived in Washington, D.C. She checked her messages, but there had been no call. She wondered why Stormy had lied about T. Calloway. The thought of Stormy’s punishment ran through her hair and eyes as she showered.

“Bring a couple days of clothes,” she had told Hartford.

He was nervous, speaking under his breath. “I can’t stay over,”
Hartford was saying to her on the phone when Shawna walked up behind him and kissed him gently on the neck.

“Come to bed,” Shawna said, intending for whomever was on the other line to hear her. When he didn’t seem affected by her tenderness or her aggressiveness, she stepped around the La-ZBoy, blocking his view of the game so he could see her. Shawna was dressed in a sheer nightgown and glass slippers. Her hair draped around her shoulders and framed her face.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” she said. “Come to bed. I’ll get on top this time; I promise.”

Hartford couldn’t deny his attraction. The thought of watching his missionary bride ride him suddenly stole his tongue, and he was silent on the phone.

“Hello? Hello?” Korea searched the line.

“Yea, uh, I’ll be there, but the meeting will have to be short. I have some business at home,” he finally answered.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Korea charged, pushing him into reality. “What can she do for you now that she hasn’t done since you’ve known her? Wake up, mothafucker; this is a real booty call.” Korea did not stay on the phone waiting for him to respond; she hung up and put the food in the oven.

“Who was that?” Shawna asked as she straddled his lap.

“An appointment; an appointment I shouldn’t have forgotten about,” Hartford said.

“But…”

“Get off my lap.”

When Shawna rebelled, he stood, letting his wife fall to the floor.

“S
TORMY REALLY CAN COOK
,” H
ARTFORD SAID
, amazed that his salmon had ever been frozen.

“You can say that again. My lobster tasted like she broiled it today. But knowing Stormy, she probably did. Her food is great but that’s enough about her. Why don’t you and I get to,
you and I
?”

“By that, you mean…” Hartford said playfully.

“By that I mean, we should stop eating Stormy’s dinner and eat each other.”

Korea did not wait for Hartford to say anything. She pushed him down on the kitchen floor and ravished him with every ounce of the man inside of her. She tackled him like a linebacker. His head hit the kitchen floor and his dick got hard and he felt the urge to push it inside her, but he had not anticipated a struggle. There, spontaneously on the floor, Korea had no tools, no toys, no devices to advise her, or force his submission, so she gave in. She gave in to an urge on a whim and let her pussy glide down his dick.

Her pussy is like a virgin file
, Hartford thought. It was as though it had been locked up tight in a vault long ago, but her fragrance let him know she was not green at all as he drove his manhood between her walls, ready to explode already.

“Oh no, honey, you need to put a condom on,” she whispered on a desperate breath, not wanting to stop but making herself.

“But, baby,” he said. “I’ve just been tested; I’m clean.”

“You sound like a fool,” Korea said, standing on her feet. “Follow me.”

Korea led Hartford into the bedroom, where the incense had burned out, leaving a husky scent of sandalwood in the air. There was a glass of wine waiting for him on the nightstand on Stormy’s side of the bed. Next to it, Korea’s strap and cock already wrapped in a condom, and lubed for a long ride to Sodom. Stormy’s big moon, as brilliant as it had been the month before, was shining through the balcony window.

“Put this on,” she said, handing him a condom. “I’ve never felt
like equals with anyone in my bedroom before,” Korea said, “until now.”

Hartford wasn’t sure what to do with the gentle moment Korea offered, but he was sure she was not a gentle woman. What was more, he had not come to Korea for anything gentle, and he wasn’t about to let her bitch up now. So he lay down on the bed and rolled the rubber over his dick, and then he flipped himself over, offering his ass like the moon offered its midnight shine.

“Your choice, little mamma; top or bottom.”

Korea stared at him in silence while she stepped into her leather harness and positioned her dick over her clit, pressing down to make sure it was on target. Korea lay down on Hartford’s back, her heart racing through him. She kissed his neck, and then nibbled on his earlobe. She slapped his ass, and then bit his shoulder, hard. His hips began to roll an invitation for her to come inside. It was easier than it had been the first time. Korea’s dick slipped right in.

“That’s it,” Hartford said. “Come and get it.”

Korea reached under him and grabbed his dick, stroking it as she pumped inside of his ass. Hartford’s dick was getting harder and bigger in her hand. His moans urged her deeper inside of him, as she squeezed his dick and pumped it like a shotgun.

“That’s it, sweetness, give me that ass, give…it…to…me…”

This time it was Korea who could not hold on. Her clit was so hard behind her strap-on, it throbbed, almost painfully.

“Fuuuck!” she screamed, nutting all over herself. She peeled the condom off his dick and let her hand spill over with his hot cum.

Sometime during the night, Hartford had removed her strap, and was sucking her sap in her sleep. Korea dreamed of Stormy, raping her. “I told you, not to ever get on top of me,” she was telling Stormy, when all of a sudden, Stormy stuck her big black dick inside of her pussy, shoving it hard against her back wall.

“You got some good tight pussy,” Stormy said. Korea opened her eyes. “Yeah, you got some good pussy. Fuck me back, bitch. Come on; fuck Daddy back.”

Korea couldn’t help it; she rolled her hips, lifted her ass in the air, and fucked Hartford back. She opened her mouth for his tongue and even let him pull her hair and, for the next twenty-four hours, they took turns being bitches in a war between tops and bottoms that they never wanted to end.

N
OW THAT
K
OREA HAD FINALLY FOUND THE SEXUAL HIGH
she had been looking for her entire life, she didn’t have time to placate amateurs or gross people. So when Melody came into her office with a pair of handcuffs, she didn’t just send her away. She fired her. Korea had found the thing she had been yearning for and no one was going to stand in her way.

S
HE WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING
T. C
ALLOWAY
, so Stormy was disappointed when she saw that he had sent a woman to pick her up from the airport. The woman was waving a sign with her name on it at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. She smiled and was courteous when she greeted her.

“Hi, I’m Stormy.”

“I know that. We’ve been running your picture with your column for a while now. Tisa…” The woman reached out to shake Stormy’s hand. “I hope your flight was comfortable.”

“Oh, yes, it was fine. I signed up for the frequent flyer program.”

“Oh? That sounds like good news, then? No pressure to talk about it now. But between us, the board will make a formal offer to you tomorrow. So you should get a good night’s sleep.”

The women walked to a black sedan in the parking lot and Tisa loaded Stormy’s bags into the car.

Stormy exhaled to release some of the pressure she felt mounting, as she considered the magnitude of the move she was making. It would be her first real job in a decade, if she took it. She imagined an entire row of T. Calloways sitting at a long table staring at her, throwing questions out.
What can you bring to this magazine? Why should we choose you? What’s so special about you? You’ve never even had a real job?
The sound of the engine starting invited Stormy back into the car.

“Oh my God, I’m nervous,” she said out loud.

“Don’t be,” Tisa said. “Those guys will look like a bunch of D.C. stuffed shirts. But underneath they’re a bunch of marshmallows. Charm them.” She smiled and placed her hand on Stormy’s shoulder. Her touch sent a little unexpected shock straight through Stormy’s body.

Damn
, Stormy said to herself, wondering how long she was going to still be attracted to women once she started dating men again. Tisa was very pretty with smooth, sun-kissed, reddish-brown skin, long black hair, full lips, and Asian eyes. Stormy felt her eyes dropping down on their own to check out the woman’s breasts…

“Are you hungry?” Tisa asked, catching her just as she was picturing silver dollar areolas.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s get you checked into your hotel room and then I’ll take you to dinner. This town may seem like it’s all about politics, but it’s all about food. I know a place that’s only minutes from your hotel.”

“Oh…okay,” Stormy said, sounding a bit confused.

“What’s wrong?” Tisa asked. “You sound skeptical, or disappointed, or something.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that I expected T. Calloway to pick me up from the airport. I thought
we
were going to dinner…you know, so I could be better prepared…”

The sound of Tisa’s laughter caught Stormy off guard. “Stormy, I
am
T. Calloway.”

J
UST LIKE
S
TORMY THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE
, there were suits in a row behind a table…seven pairs of eyes staring at her…

But all they wanted to know was if she had faith in the forthcoming magazine and what visions she had for her part in it. Name, rank, and social security number aside, Stormy relaxed and told them exactly what they needed to hear. She relaxed in her seat and told them exactly how she felt. She had already been to hell, twice over. If they did not like what she had to say, she would simply go back and start over. Or not go back, and still start over.

“You cannot hold a blog in your hands. You can’t lay back in the bathtub with a website on your laptop without running the risk of shock, or rip out the pages of an internet recipe while you shop for the content of your husband’s dinner. There is a future for print media,” she said. “There is a future for
The Cutting Board
.”

Fourteen minutes of deliberation was all it took for them to make a formal offer. It took Stormy seventeen minutes to renegotiate for a $150,000 annual salary and fifty-percent ownership rights to any radio or television broadcast of “Stormy’s Cutting Board.”

In any other field, it may have been unethical for Stormy to walk out of the newsroom door with the woman who had brought her there and presided over the board, but in the world of journalism,
it seemed like this was perfectly normal. In fact, several board members who had been as captivated by her thighs as they had been by her presentation, had invited themselves to the celebration. But in the end, it was just Stormy and Tisa on a rollercoaster ride laid on a track of truth and trust.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want her?”

“No.”

“Do you envy her?”

“Not anymore.”

Tisa’s was the sweetest of kisses and when Stormy opened her mouth to her, it was as if she had that day in the Pastor’s study to do all over again. It had been twenty-four years since she had lost her power. It was strange she had to go three thousand miles to find out that she had been the author and finisher of her fate all along.

“Go Stormy, go Stormy.” She laughed and surrendered to love as Tisa did a stud dance in sea green cotton boxers and a yellow Lycra wife beater that did not match at all. “I could stay here forever, you know? But I have to go home.”