almost okay

SEVERAL DEATHS IN
THE FAMILY
Chapter Six: Inside-Out And Double-Stuffed

“I'm Cookie,” she said as she extended her slender hand to me.

“Marty,” I said as I took it, feeling the comforting warmth of her palm, the soft skin of her fingers. “You mean to tell me that your Momma named you 'Cookie'?”

“It's what I go by,” she said with a big smile, two even rows of small white teeth set in bright pink gums. As proof, she slid the right sleeve up on her yellow form-fitting tee to reveal a black shoulder tattoo of the moniker in a clumsy script surrounded by even clumsier flourishes. “My real name sucks.”

“How bad could it be?” I asked.

She leaned in closer, her full lips close to my cheek and her deep brown eyes looking straight into mine, a clean aroma of perfumed soap making its way to my nostrils. “Shannetta,” she whispered, then looked around to see if anyone else had heard.

“Hmm... I see. Nice to meet you, Cookie.” She laughed.

James had told me that the Golden Bear was a great place to meet women even though it was a sports bar. It didn't look like much from the outside and I wasn't impressed with the room once I'd made it to the inside... crowded, smallish and dirty, no food and half the taps were dry. I had to settle for a local ale that tasted like stale potpourri. But there was beautiful Cookie sitting right next to me, smiling and tossing warmth my way. I was beginning to see it in a whole different light.

“Can I buy you a drink, Cookie?”

“You sure can.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

We took BART back to the city, climbed the carpeted stairs to the third floor walk-up on Nob Hill where I was staying with Lydia, an old girlfriend from my west coast days. Cookie's magnificent ass bounced back and forth before me at eye level as we climbed, her short denim skirt hypnotizing me, her mid-calf boots fueling my foot fetish, the smooth brown skin of her thighs as the muscles flexed causing moisture to collect on my tongue.

“Nice place,” said Cookie when we were inside. Lydia was still at work, so we had the place to ourselves.

“Thanks. How about some wine?”

“Sounds good.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

By the time the clock struck midnight there was an empty bottle of Napa Valley Merlot on the coffee table and a trail of clothing, both Cookie's and mine, that led from the living room to the bedroom - panties, bra, shirts, her tight denim skirt - everything but our boots. My right one was still stuffed with the pistol I'd bought from James and I'd asked Cookie to leave hers on. Cookie was kneeling on the edge of Lydia's futon, face down and ass up, her flawless chocolate skin lit softly from an orange and red neon wall sculpture that cast a pale warm glow on everything in the room. I had her big, gorgeous ass in my hands, digging into her from behind as I stood beside the bed, naked except for my boots, rocking a slow rhythm as she cooed and moaned and pushed her softness back into me.

Cookie had another tattoo on her lower back, a more professional looking one. It was a string of Asian characters which she told me translated loosely to 'oblivion'. I was half way there when I heard the apartment door squeak open then close. Lydia was home.

“Who's that?” asked Cookie, her body tensing briefly, her face turning back towards me and showing a hint of fear.

“Don't sweat it, baby,” I said. “She'll be glad to see you. Trust me.”

“Hellooo...” called Lydia from the other room. “Marty...?”

“We're in here,” I called back. “Don't turn on any lights.” Then to Cookie: “It's cool, baby.” I stroked her ass and lower back, kept myself firmly planted inside and swayed side to side waiting for Lydia.

“Well, I see you've been busy, Marty,” said Lydia when she came into the bedroom. “Jesus, she's beautiful.”

“Lydia... Cookie. Cookie... Lydia.” I could feel Cookie relaxing a bit more. “Cookie, Lydia and I are old friends. Lydia, I thought I'd bring home something for your sweet tooth.”

“Mmmm, you do know me,” said Lydia as she approached me on the side. Lydia put her fingers in my hair, pressed her face to mine and flicked her tongue out on my lips. I opened my mouth and she kissed me deeply. My hands were still on Cookie's ass and I started back to slowly thrusting as Lydia made her way down my front with her tongue, swirling at the nipples, dragging it over my torso until she had her nose right where Cookie and I were joined. Lydia was sweeping her fingertips over and around Cookie's ass, darting her tongue down towards me on the backstroke as she hummed her pleasure: “Mmmmm...mmmm...”

After a minute Lydia stood back up and stripped off her outer clothes. “Do you mind leaving the shoes on?” I pleaded. They were black pumps, part of her uniform at the restaurant where she worked as a hostess. She was wearing black crotchless pantyhose and a matching black bra.

“Can I take this off, Casanova?” she said as she unfastened the bra.

“Oh, yeah, baby. Get comfortable.”

Cookie was grinding back at me, moaning low without saying a word, but I could tell she was a lot wetter, oozing love juice as the room heated up and Lydia shed her clothes. While I pumped away, Lydia climbed onto the futon, moved up and whispered something in Cookie's ear causing her to giggle softly. Lydia ran her fingers through Cookie's silky, shoulder-length black hair, leaned in and kissed Cookie full on the lips. Cookie kissed back. It was a beautiful visual for me, the contrast of their skin tones... Cookie's dark flesh against the creamy buttermilk complexion of Lydia's, Lydia's hair the color of straw, the glow of the neon washing over them both.

Lydia rolled over in front of Cookie, slid up beneath her, their lips meeting for a few moments of deep kissing as Lydia's hands played over Cookie's breasts, tweaked the nipples. She kept sliding herself along under Cookie, spent a lot of time with her mouth and tongue on Cookie's boobs, while Cookie returned the favor.

“Oh! Oh! I'm coming...” moaned Cookie. She reached back with one hand, placed it on my stomach, threw her head back while Lydia continued to work her boobs. “Ooooh, yeah...”

I pumped harder for just a minute while Cookie got off, but I had to slow down or else I'd have gone over the edge myself. I thought about the gun in my boot and my recent troubles on the job to help calm myself and last through Cookie's orgasm. By the time it had subsided, I looked down and saw that Lydia had made her way all the way up to me, her mouth and tongue now simultaneously working tiny miracles on both me and Cookie, and Cookie's hands were all over Lydia's legs, sweeping up and down, her face buried in Lydia's center.

I decided I'd waited long enough and began pounding away in earnest, my hands tight around Cookie's hips as I slapped in and out in long strokes, the jelly of her ass flesh rippling in waves with the impact of each thrust. Lydia's legs began to shake and I could see that Cookie was working at her with gusto, pushing her along towards her own climax as Lydia's tongue frantically worked on me. When it was time, Lydia sensed it, reached up and pulled me out, worked me with her hand until I'd spilled it into the air, up and over Cookie's beautiful round ass, all over the futon and down over Lydia's hungry open mouth...

My cell phone was on the night stand, and in the throes of passion I hadn't heard it ring, but it vibrated, flashed and beeped to let me know I had a voice mail. I glanced over and saw that the missed call had been from the boss. As the three of us lay huddled together in a sweaty heap, resting, catching our collective breath before round two, I studied the ceiling and gave some meandering thought to the next phase of my trip. Lydia had reached over and was fondling me with one hand while she teased my nipples with her tongue, and Cookie was propped up on one elbow with her fingers in Lydia's hair, her warm thigh hooked over mine.

I hadn't worked out all the details for the next part of my cross country murder spree, but I did know that I'd be hitting the road first thing in the morning.

I figured the boss would understand if I didn't call him back until then.