Monica's Magical Machinations

PART I -- THE RETURN

"I missed you, baby," Monica murmured as her lips met mine and her tongue slipped inside. We kissed for a moment and were startled by a car horn, accompanied by a man's voice yelling. "Get a room."

I squeezed both of Monica's ass cheeks in response, but then put my suitcase in the car, after which Monica flashed the man a smile and grabbed my crotch.

"So vulgar," I said, in mock indignation.

She handed me the keys. "Just drive. The sooner we get home, the sooner you can start licking my pussy." I missed my Monica.

It was a short drive from Sky Harbor to our home at the edge of South Mountain. Long enough for me to bring Monica up to speed on some of the high points of my few nights with her niece Caitlin, including where I finally got her comfortable enough to allow me to cum on her bald head, and massage it into her scalp.

Monica laughed, "I hoped you saved a few drops for me," as she gently squeezed and rubbed at my crotch while I navigated the side streets into and through our complex. "Your poor neglected wife pining at home for you while you're servicing beautiful young women." I shot her a withering glance as I turned the wheel, and the car entered our street.

"Merely an appetizer my dear, an amuse-bouche, and now it's time for the main course." I slowed and we turned into the driveway as the garage door lifted open and the car slipped inside, coming to a stop. I was tired after a half day of work that had followed an early morning fuck session with Caitlin, but excited as always to pleasure my wife. My wife who had arranged several days with her hot niece.

"Red or white," Monica asked, as if she didn't already know the answer. I always took white when I was tired if we were going to get frisky.

"White."

"Good boy," she murmured, "Now hurry up, I've got a powerful ache."

I chuckled, "As if you didn't vibe yourself blind while I was away."

"You know it's not the same," she said reproachfully, "now hurry up."

She disappeared into the house while I grabbed my bags from the car. The suitcase wheels made a clacking sound as they crossed the threshold. Once inside, I kicked my shoes off and removed my shirt. Monica had two tumblers of wine and was on her way to the bedroom. By the time I got there, pulling my belt off as I entered the door, she was almost nude and halfway through her wine. I quickly dropped my pants and boxers, cock protruding at full staff, and climbed onto the bed. Monica lay back, "Main course. Hopefully, you still have some appetite."

I pushed her legs apart as my face nestled in between her thighs. She giggled as my several-day growth of facial hair tickled her and settled back with a sigh. There was the customary gasp as my tongue touched her clit, and then her hands found my hair and idly tousled it as I set about my work.

Monica and I had only been married for 15 years after our first "starter" marriages, and she never grew tired of my oral administrations. She settled back dreamily as my tongue flickered over her little bud. There were only so many things a person can do with their mouth on a woman's sex, and I'm quite sure I covered them all and then some within the first year. I tried to mix it up, but honestly felt like half the time it just seemed routine. I knew what she liked and tried to throw some variety in there, but often just went for what I knew worked.

Caitlin had different sensibilities than Monica. Whereas Monica appreciated a steady, firm rhythm and pressure, Caitlin responded to the slightest touch -- less was more. Monica liked a finger or two in her pussy or her ass. Caitlin did not. I decided to treat Monica like Caitlin; perhaps her tastes had changed?

After several minutes of the gentlest brushing of my unhurried tongue against her clit, she shuddered and giggled. "You come back after your assignment like a new lover. I should send you out on more." My head shot up, looking at her.

"What?"

"You heard me. Now keep doing that," she said quietly as she pushed my head back down. "You can talk while we fuck," and I felt her settle down again. She shuddered again a few more times before I felt her stiffen a bit, and her breathing betrayed her orgasm. This was a gentle one, not like what she usually had, and she laughed quietly when it was over. I could feel her stretch, and she tugged on my head so I could come up for air and some wine. I drank most of my tumbler at once and she put it back while I settled back in for continuing gentle tongue play. "Remind me to thank Caitlin," she murmured, and successfully predicted my response by pushing on my head as I tried to raise it. I laughed into her pussy and continued.

It was another 10 minutes, and my tongue was starting to cramp a little, when she shuddered harder this time, and I could feel her trembling gently as she came again. "Mmmm, that was nice."

"Only nice?"

"Get up here," she ordered, as she tugged on my hair. "Nice is good."

I started to position my cock to enter her thoroughly saturated pussy, but she kept pulling me, and I ended up flopping down next to her, half laying on her, and nuzzled her neck with playful kisses. I felt her hand around my prick as she slowly slid her hand along its length. I was not the most endowed of men, but when asked how long a man's legs should be, Abraham Lincoln replied "Long enough to reach the ground," or so I've heard. I think he's also credited with saying "Don't believe everything you hear on the internet."

A handjob was not in my future as Monica gathered herself up from under me and straddled me, quickly sinking down, her cunt swallowing my now throbbing member. She sat still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of deep penetration, and then started alternating a grinding and bobbing. She was in no hurry, and I could feel the muscular walls of her vagina squeezing me. She always joked about doing her Kegels, and I never had any reason to doubt her.

"I think I have another assignment for you."

"Oh? Is that what we're calling them? Like Caitlin and Nichole?"

Monica laughed. "Nichole... I still don't feel comfortable blowing you after that." She grinned at me as she tightened her pussy and pushed down. I groaned in response.

PART II - NICHOLE

Nichole was, and still is, a friend of Monica's who had been the victim of domestic abuse. Her ex got drunk one evening and decided to take his frustration out on her. At five one and thin as a rail, her much larger attacker was able to do a lot of damage before he eventually had had enough, and she had too. She suffered a badly broken jaw and wrist, and after several surgeries, she was going to recover fine, but she lost her teeth.

I was never sure how or where Monica found her friends, but, after a year of healing from that event, Nichole expressed a desire for intimacy, but a fear of rejection based on her dentures. Plus, she was having a challenging time thinking about trusting anyone. For some reason, however, Nichole decided the husband of a friend sounded safe enough. Or at least that is what I surmise, as I'm not precisely sure exactly how the whole thing had been arranged.

One night, after Monica made sure I was free "for a date," I was all ready to go out with her when she hands me a small package with an address on it. "I need you to take this to my friend, Nichole. She may need some help with it, and I hope you'll be handy and help her out." This Nichole, whom I had never met, didn't live too far away, I figured I'd be there and back quickly enough for my date with my wife. "Take your time." Monica told me as I was leaving, package in hand, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Love you more."

I never escalated beyond that and was out the door.

The package was noticeably light, a piece of twine securing it with a bow for easy opening. I shook it, but there didn't appear to be anything in it, or if there was, it was miniscule. I found the sudden turn of events very intriguing but had no reason to believe anything like what was going to happen would happen.

Monica and I had never discussed being involved with anyone but each other. She never suggested I be with someone else or expressed a desire to be with someone else. It was always just the two of us, although she would ask what I thought of other women, and I tried to answer honestly, if diplomatically, and she did seem to have an unusual interest in my ex-wife and prior girlfriends.

So, I found myself contemplating the landscaping as I approached the front door. One of the wonderful things about Phoenix is you don't have to fuss over landscaping too much. But when you completely ignore it, it's noticeable. Maybe that's what she needed help with? I wish Monica hadn't let me get dressed nicely if that was it. Desert xeriscape could be hell on clothing.

I rang the doorbell and was quickly greeted by a petit, attractive, Black woman with a radiant smile. "You must be Tom. Monica described you to a T."

"T for Tom, in the flesh and at your service." I did my best at a flourished bow but looked a bit foolish. Nonetheless, she laughed. "I come bearing a mystery package." I held out the box to her.

"Come in, come in," she insisted. She swept her hand in a welcoming gesture. "Monica said you'd be overly polite but not to let you get away with it."

"What?"

"She said you'd be overly..."

"No, I heard that. I guess I'm really wondering why."

"I'd guess it's because you are overly polite?" Her smile was almost... mischievous? I was beginning to become uneasy, like I was the butt of some joke I wasn't aware of.

"Did my loving wife tell you anything else?"

"She said you like bourbon. There's a bottle on the counter and ice in the freezer. Please help yourself, I'll be right back." I couldn't help but notice how her ass shifted in her jeans as she walked away from me. Monica often had some hot friends.

I had barely given my tumbler of bourbon its first swirl, when Nichole reappeared, barefoot in a silk robe. It seemed a bit odd, and she still had that mischievous smile. "Comfortable?" I asked, not sure what was going on.

"Quite," she answered, "And you?"

"Honestly? No. I feel like I'm out of my depth here."

She stepped closer and took the bourbon from my hand, setting it on the counter, and replacing it with the box I had brought to her. "This is for you. Please open it."

Now I was really confused. My eyes narrowed as I looked at her suspiciously. She was very pretty, with large, warm brown eyes, a short afro, or whatever the hairstyle was called, and a tapered face with full lips. She could not stop smiling at me and it had become very disconcerting. "The box. It's for me?"

"Just open it." So, I did. The string slid off easily and inside was a small piece of paper. I looked at Nichole. "Well?" she said, "Read it already," as she leaned in a little closer. "Stop wasting time."

"Yikes, OK. I feel like I'm about to have a surprise party." Nichole just giggled. I pulled the slip of paper out and set the box down. After unfolding it, I recognized Monica's meticulous handwriting. The note read:

Tom, I know you love me, and you know I love you. So please trust me and honor my request. I want you to kiss Nichole and treat her as you would me. Whatever it takes to make her happy and know I love you. Your Monica.

I was stunned. I had no idea how to react. I couldn't even look at Nichole, who obviously was in on this from the start. Why? I wondered. Was this a set up? "Treat her as you would me?" What did that really mean...? My hand flailed for the edge of the counter as I sought to steady myself. I did trust her, without question, and yet, was she really asking me to...?

"Tom? Are you OK?" Nichole sounded concerned. "I'm sorry, it was Monica's idea, maybe we shouldn't have..." she trailed off and for the first time that evening, as I glanced up at her, her smile had faded, and she looked a little sad. Our eyes met, and I was again struck at how attractive she was and noticed her smell. Spicy and sweet. It was surprisingly easy to give in.

I reached out and pulled her in, my head tipping to the side as my lips parted slightly, seeking hers. She held me at bay for a moment, with an uncertain look on her face. "Tom, I know this must be sudden, so if you don't..."

I interrupted her. "Do you always talk so much when someone is trying to kiss you?"

"So, you want to?"

"Kiss me and find out." And with that, she dropped all resistance, and our lips met. I pulled her closer and felt her body contour to mine as my tongue began to probe between her lips. Her tongue met mine, as if guarding her inner sanctum, and they began a slow, sinuous dance, each trying to gain the advantage.

I felt her hand at my ass, firmly grasping my one cheek, as she used that as leverage to pull herself even closer, and I realized that I had become rock hard at some point, a fact she also realized as her hips came flush up against my own. She withdrew her head a bit as she murmured, "It looks like you wanted to after all".

I cradled her head with my hand and guided her mouth back to mine. My tongue went forth to explore and was met by hers again, determined to keep me at bay. Assuming she didn't like that, I withdrew and kissed along her cheek, and her neck, and nibbled around her ear, and down to her shoulder, where her robe easily slid away giving me perfect access. She shuddered and let out a deep sigh, her arms tightening around me.

"How much did Monica tell you about me?" she practically whispered in my ear.

"Nothing. Your name, but otherwise I was just here to deliver a package, which I thought was odd because it was supposed to be our date night." I laughed, "I guess it still is a date night."

"I..." she started, "It's just..." She held me tight and sighed again. "I have no teeth, she blurted out.

"But..."

"Dentures."

"I see." I pulled my head back to look at her. That explained the perfect teeth. "That bothers you?"

"Yes. Doesn't it bother you?"

"No. Should it?" She regarded me for a moment.

"Drink your bourbon," and she turned and walked out.

"Nichole..."

"It's Ok," I heard her say from wherever she was, "Give me a moment." I took a sip of my bourbon. I hope she enjoyed bourbon breath. I took another sip, and then a third before I heard Nichole again. "Tom, can you come here?"

I followed the sound of her voice, and it was a small house, compact and efficient for the desert, so I instantly came upon her standing in the doorway of what I assumed was her bedroom. She looked sad, and her eyes a little puffy, as if she had been crying. Her mouth looked a little funny, the lips drawn together too firmly and I realized what she had done.

She started to say, "Do you still..." but never got the chance to finish because my mouth again clamped over hers and I pulled her into a tight embrace as I forced my tongue between her lips, surprising her. My tongue could feel the bony ridge of gums, and there was the taste of fresh mouthwash, and I was now free to explore her mouth.

She tried to resist with her tongue, and tried to push me back, but I did not let her. I persisted in exploring her mouth and slowly she relaxed, and I felt her probing into mine. I slipped my arm past her robe against her bare waist and discovered she wasn't wearing any panties. I became acutely aware of my stiff cock again, and I slid my hand down her thigh, and circled around to her hairless mound as she suddenly sucked in her breath.

She started to move backwards, and I followed as we slowly arrived at her bed, and then sat down at the edge, all while I was still kissing her and my fingers were boldly seeking her hot and wet inner lips. The complete lack of hair made it easy, and when she gasped at being penetrated with two fingers, I renewed my onslaught against her mouth. Open-mouthed I kissed her hungrily, my tongue alternating exploring and trying to dominate hers. I felt as much as I heard her moan into me, and she tried to shake her robe loose from her shoulders.

I pulled back a little, breaking our embrace, but continuing to slowly fuck her with my fingers. The robe dropped, revealing large, full breasts, much larger than Monica's despite her being more petit. Her areola's and nipples were all a uniform shade of brown, offering little contrast from her skin. I placed a hand on one of her breasts, gently squeezing and finding her nipple with my fingers. Nichole moaned again, as I continued my digital stimulation of her pussy. My thumb stroked her clit while my fingers slowly penetrated her and withdrew in a steady rhythm.

I looked at her face and she looked at me shyly. "What did you want to ask me Nichole? Do I still...?

"Shut up," she said, as she pulled me in and started kissing me this time. I realized she was naked and here I was fully clothed as I felt her hands begin to work my belt. It was quickly undone, and she started the process of pulling down the zipper and trying to peel fabric back enough to find skin and cock. Now it was my turn to gasp.

I pushed her back on the bed and started playing with her clit and fingering her in earnest. My head dipped down and found one of her breasts so I could suck on the nipple. She moaned more loudly this time, her hands seeming to have forgotten what they were after. Soon, she stiffened, and let out a low, guttural moan, and then laughed. "That was nice."

She started pulling on me to lay alongside her, so I did, my cock straining to reach her against my half undone pants. She still smelled spicy and sweet, with her pungent muskiness now added. It was delightful. "You're delightful," I told her. "What really was all of this about?"

She laughed. "Promise not to laugh?"

"No. But if I do, I'll laugh kindly," I replied quickly as I lifted myself up on an elbow to look down on her. "Was this all about the dentures?"

"See? You'll laugh."

"I'm not laughing Nichole. I'm sorry you felt that way." I reached out to cup her chin and held her face. "I would have never guessed you were wearing dentures, and even if I knew, so what? You're still you." I started stroking her face and she turned her head to kiss my hand. "I don't know you, but I'm sure you're a wonderful person and any guy, or gal, who would blow you off because of a silly thing like dentures, or not wearing dentures, isn't worth your time."

She sighed, looking at me. "This all started because I asked Monica what would happen if it was her who lost her teeth. How would you treat her?"

So that was what she meant by 'treat her as you would me'. "I think you have your answer."

"Yeah, it's exactly how she said it would be. Including the part about you being a wonderful kisser."

"I assure you I am an acquired taste."

"Then let me get another taste of you," she said, as she rolled over and pushed me back. Laughing she peppered my mouth and cheeks with quick pecks.

"Nichole, how long has it been since you've been with someone?"

"A year and a half." She looked away as if in embarrassment. "I have trust issues."

"Thank you for trusting me." I gazed into her eyes for a moment as she looked down on me, "Now, how can I make you happy?"

She looked startled, "You already have."

"Nichole, when this moment wears off and you think back on it, what will you wish you had done while you had the chance?"

She unexpectedly blurted out: "I've never been with a white guy."

"Neither have I."

"What, been with a white guy?" She laughed, "I guess we have that in common.

"Have you ever been with a Black woman?"

"Nichole hesitated a moment, "Yes, I have, but only once."

"That's once more than me. Until now, depending on how the rest of the night goes.

"Mmmm", she leaned over me, her tongue penetrating my lips as she began kissing me again. "You have too many clothes on for a white man," She managed to get out between kisses. We both set to work freeing me of them. Her robe had come completely off revealing slim hips with a freshly shaven vulva and smooth, thin thighs. I finished removing my pants and underwear while she worked on removing my shirt.