Maroon slipped her bra and pink laced panties off, tossing them
beyond the pile of dirty clothes. She pulled a night tee on, her
breasts pressed against it like two balloons. Her nipples became
hard nubs from the friction with the shirts fabric and cool air
conditioning. Between her legs resided the thick shape of her
pussy. It's odor was sweaty but sweet, moisture enveloping
between the lips and down from her clit.
Everytime she moved, her thick thighs brushed against each other causing heat to form between her knees. She moaned momentarily before grabbing a spare pair of undies and slipping them on. She was trying her best not to touch her black pearl.
Just for more reassurance, she pulled a pair of pajama shorts over her panties as well. When she turned away from her bed, her door bell chimed throughout the apartment. She scurries to the door, "Who is it?'
"Its me, Curiyel." The husky voice of a female breathed through the thin door. Maroon opened the door without further ado, greeting the other female inside.
Curiyel walked in, her body drenched from the pouring storm. She had just come back from a wedding upstate Chicago and got caught in a rain storm. Instead of forcing herself to drive home in the thunder and lightening, she stopped at Marron's place. It was much better then driving for another hour or so, even though she lived thirty minutes away. The traffic outside was ridiculous and her head was already taking a toll for the worse headache in her life.
Dealing with a newlywed cousin can be a bitch. Especially if your cousin's a bitch. Curiyel can't stand her and the only reason she attended the wedding was to stare at guest or preferably, their asses. No, Curiyel wasn't lesbian. She just hadn't found the 'right man', an excuse she always throws at her friends who pry into her life like a sealed envelope.
"You're so wet!" Maroon gushed, grabbing a towel from the small closet in her smaller hallway. She laughed to herself at the other meaning. Her mind was half focused, and half corrupted by her arousal. She turned around to hand Curiyel a towel to find the woman already unzipping her black, knee length Versace dress.
The shitty dress cost her the whole bit of her money last month and now it was probably half ruined by the bad weather prediction. Sunny day her ass. She wondered how many lawsuits weatherologists got for being wrong. Possibly none since the weather could not be accurately predicted. Still, she was kind of mad that it rained on her parade. The wedding ended an hour short. Just when she was about to get some from a banging blond with breast for days. Her curves were untamable and her lips put Angelina Jolie to shame. Wonder what magic she can do with those lips.
Curiyel took the towel from Maroon and said thank you in her black bra and lace matching panties.
"Do you mind if I take a shower?" Curiyel asked, knowing damned well Maroon wouldn't mind. Maroon nodded, turning on her heel and leading Curiyel to the shower. Even though Curiyel already knows the blueprint of this damn apartment.
Curiyel felt her eyelids dropping onto the rear of Maroon. Her ass was dancing. Literally dancing as it moved up and down, her hips working to keep up but falling into a slow grind of a left-to-right motion. Was Maroon not wearing any panties? It was hard to tell since she was wearing some pajama shorts and a pretty oversized shirt. Curiyel liked to look at Maroon.
They'd been friends for two years now. Chilled together and everything. Maroon was African, born in Sudan. Her dark chocolate skin was worshipped when she came to America. It wasn't that no one had never seen a dark skin girl. It's just that no one had ever seen a dark skin girl like Maroon. Like the color maroon, her skin had a cast of red, close to burgundy. She had pretty natural curly hair, cut short to her head. Her eyelashes curled at the end, and her nose was small. She had one dimple, the other one missing in action. Her lips were dark pink and slightly curved into a heart.
She was a body banging, south African beauty with a sense of humor and a heart of gold. And that's one thing Curiyel admired.
Curiyel was a normal Chicago chick. Half White and half Latina with hair that was sometimes straight, sometimes 'fuck-you-i'm-curly-bitch'. She was tall and pretty to most people. She was a business woman, owning a small company that hooked clients up with dates for big events. Or for better words, escorted them. She was a party girl and she loved to meet all kinds of girls. But she, was not lesbian. Or at least, a permanent one.