I was visiting my old friend Melissa in Atlanta, Georgia for a carefree weekend of shopping, partying, and pampering. I met Melissa years ago when I was in my early 20s, exploring life and looking for adventure and good times. We attended the same art school where she was a music major and I was pursuing the visual arts. We shared the same tenacious hunger for life and control-freak compulsiveness that landed her an extremely lucrative position as a VP at a major record label. She signed the last five major recording artists on the pop and R&B charts.
This retreat was just what I needed, nothing but good music, laughter, and some new handsome men to flirt with. Melissa always had a new ring of cute, interesting men to keep us entertained on my visits. She owned two houses in Atlanta: a penthouse downtown usually used for entertaining, and a 7,000ft2 home in the suburbs. It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I pulled up to the high-rise. My heart filled with nothing but bliss and anticipation of all the ridiculous fun we were going to have. The doorman helped me with my luggage and ushered me to the private elevator to the penthouse. When the elevator doors opened, Melissa was there waiting to greet me with a big smile and a “girl, have I missed you” hug. Every time I walked into her living room, I would lose my breath. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with a jaw-dropping view of the city. She immediately began to tell me about a party her record label was throwing to celebrate her new alternative rap artist, Angel, who went triple platinum within one month of his album release.
I’d heard several songs by Angel. His music was a combination on Linkin Park and Drake, with the depth of Common lyrics. He had a style that I call urban Gothic: a little hip-hop with a little Tommy Lee bad-ass. Angel was a musical prodigy. He could rap, sing, write, and play most instruments without having any lessons. I could dig his music and appreciate his idiosyncrasies, but he wasn’t the type of guy I would normally date.
Melissa told me that he was renting a loft two buildings over and that we were going to stop by to say hello before going shopping for our party dresses. When we got to his floor, we could hear music blasting as soon as we stepped off the elevator and what sounded like a small army chanting something. Me and Melissa just looked at each and shrugged. We rang the doorbell and a young woman greeted Melissa laughingly, “There’s always a show when Angel’s in the room.” We walked in to find Angel sitting at a grand piano free styling lyrics about how to make and eat an ice cream sundae, but a listening to the words more closely, you would realize he was actually talking about going down on a woman. His entourage cheered him on while Melissa and I laughed at his play on words. Once he finished his performance, he came over to welcome me and Melissa.
“Warming up for your show tonight?” Melissa asked in amusement.
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Angel replied casually.
“I’m sure I haven’t. Well, I just wanted to stop in and congratulate you on over 3 million albums sold. I’ll see you at the party tonight.”
“Yeap, look forward to it boss lady. Will I see your friend at the party too?” he asked, looking at me with a smile.
“Oh, this is one of my closest friends. She’ll be here to help me paint the town red this weekend. Lily′ this is Angel, Angel... Lily′.”
I reached out to shake his hand, and he gently clasped both of his hands around mine looking into my eyes.
“So you’ll save a dance for me tonight Lily′?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Fair enough, I’ll see you two tonight then,” still clutching my hand.
He held my hand for a few seconds longer provoking a reaction. I just paused and gave a little tug to free my hand. As we were exiting his door, I could feel the weight of him watching me. We locked eyes for a split second as I turned to shut the door; his smile was so sexy. On our walk back to Melissa’s building, I asked her about Angel’s dating habits. She told me that Angel was extremely particular about the women he dated and that monogamy and privacy was a must. I thought it was cool that a guy so talented and successful could enjoy the intimacy of an exclusive relationship. I always liked guys with an intellect and good conversation. Angels music was fun and it had substance, which made me curious about getting to know him on a deeper level.
The party was explosive! The house was packed from top to bottom: VIP on the upper level and a floor full of screaming fans on the lower level. I was looking as good as I felt, and felt as good as I looked. Our champagne glasses floated in the air as we swayed from side to side stepping to the music. It was the fun night I was hoping it would be. Me and Melissa watched from the balcony as Angel performed a few of his songs. The last song was a slow ballad. The lights went dim and the raging crowd became still. He sat on a stool in the center of a dark stage with nothing but a spot light shining on him. He began singing acapella, then beat dropped on the hook, and he turned the mic to the audience and everyone in the entire club (including the bartenders) sung along. On the last verse, he looked directly up at the balcony and I could have sworn he was singing directly to me.
“Lily′ and Angel sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Melissa joked.
I nodded my head and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “I don’t know what that was about, don’t look at me.” Angel came to VIP when he finished the song.
“You ladies having a good time?”
“Yeap,” we both replied.
He leaned in closer and rubbed his finger down my arm.
“My manager wants me to meet and mingle with a few people interested in giving me endorsement deals, so I’m not going be able to get that dance now, but maybe you and Melissa could come back to my spot for a drink after the club?”
“That’s what’s up.” Melissa said.
He massaged the palm of my hand with his thumb and pushed my hair behind my ear. His lips were so close I could almost feel them graze my ear. The sound of his voice and the proximity of his lips made my skin crawl.
“I want to see you tonight. Don’t stand me up.”
“We’ll come through,” I assured him.
When we walked in his loft, he was in the kitchen fixing pancakes. It smelt like my mom’s house on Saturday mornings. I thought it was so adorable.
“There’s some mimosas on the table and breakfast will be served in a few minutes,” he said with a wink. I walked in the kitchen and stood beside him watching as he flipped the pancakes.
“What is it that you like about me? It seems like you would go for a different type of woman.”
He looked at me and smiled, “I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment.”
“It’s neither. I Googled a few of your pics and the females you were with don’t really fit the same mold as I do, not saying that in a good or bad way. Those women are just a lot different from me. You know, with all the tattoos and super revealing clothing.”
“Actually, you and those girls might have more in common than you think. They are smart and beautiful just like you. They just dressed more provocatively than you do. But I knew who you were when you first walked through the door today. About a year ago, a friend of mine bought one of your paintings and I asked him about the artist. He pulled your website up and I thought you were sexy as hell. I even bought a painting. It’s hanging in the bedroom. “
“Are you for real?” I was smiling ear to ear.
“Well isn’t that sweet,” Melissa yelled from the couch, texting one of her guy-friends. “Andre’s coming over. I’ll see you in the morning Lily. Goodnight Angel.”
“Hold on! Wait a minute! You at least have to stay and have some pancakes, Melissa. You just can’t abandon your guest like this. You can at least have one pancake,” I protested so she’d get the hint and not leave me alone with Angel.
“You can tell me all about the pancakes in the morning. Angel, you take care of my best friend.”
“You know she’s in good hands with me. The best hands,” Angel answered.
He put the spatula down and massaged my shoulders as Melissa walked out the door.
“It’s just you and me now,” Angel said as he went to lock the door behind Melissa.
“Yeah, I guess so. You have me all to yourself. The question is .... What are you gonna do with me?” I said in a playful, yet seductive tone.
“The first thing I’m going to do is feed you these pancakes.” He drizzled syrup over a small stack of pancakes, cut a small piece out and fed it to me. “Good, aren’t they?”
“Not bad for an amateur.”
“I can show you I’m not an amateur,” reaching his arm out to dim the lights.
I was leaning with my back against the counter when he stood in front of me and slowly bent down to press his lips to mine. He dipped the tip of his finger in pancake syrup, coating my lips with sweetness, before sliding it into my mouth. He withdrew his finger slowly as I sucked the remaining syrup off. Then he gripped my hair with one hand and lifted my dress to rub my ass with the other. His kisses were soft and gentle, but filled with enough passion to fuel a jet. Still grasping my hair, he kissed his way down my chin to my neck. He rolled his tongue across my neck, gently biting and sucking at the same time.
Part of me felt apprehensive about being in such a heated situation with someone I had only known a few hours, but it felt so nice that I rationalized that I was on a mini-vacation and I needed to let my hair down. I had to let go and enjoy the moment.
Angel unzipped the back of my dress and pushed the straps off my shoulders. My dress fell to my ankles. He continued kissing me as I eagerly unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and unfastened his jeans. He took my hand and placed it beneath his Calvin Kleins.
Ding, ding, ding.... jackpot! Angel had an anaconda in his pants. I gave his pole a good squeezing as he did the one-handed bra release trick. I was left wearing my black lace thong and black stiletto heels. He licked and sucked one breast while caressing the other. Angel had all the right moves: good kisser, not too rough, but aggressive enough to come get it, and he nibbled my neck and breasts just the way I liked. As he tongued my nipples, he slid his hand down my panties making slow circles around my clit. I know he could feel my juices flowing in all directions. He extended his hand further into my panties penetrating my sweet spot with two fingers. His fingers did a slow grind inside of me until my wetness made snapping noises against his fingers. He rolled my thong down my legs and lifted me onto the counter, locking my thighs across his shoulders. I watched his head descend between my thighs and his tongue went to work. I put my hands on the back of his head and rolled my hips to the rhythm of his tongue. He stayed down on me until I came harder than a volcanic eruption.
“Still not bad for an amateur?” he teased, looking up from my trembling pussy.
He lifted me from the counter and led me through the darkness to a steel beam anchored in the center of his living room. As we were walking through the living room, I noticed that he removed something from an open drawer. It sounded like it could be the clinking of keys, so I didn’t give it too much thought. I flinched when he positioned my back against the cold, steel pole. His soft, pouty lips consumed mine and he raised my hands above my head, locking my wrists behind the steel beam. Then I felt something cold clasp around my wrists as I struggled to free my constrained hands. All I kept thinking was, “I hope this doesn’t turn into some kind of torture session.” My nervousness was at a peak because he could do anything to me, but at the same token, I was surprisingly aroused at the thought of him taking control and putting me at his mercy. His trail of wet kisses ran from my forehead, to my mouth, to my chin, my neck, nipples, down to my belly button, lower until he was on his knees and his lips were giving my clitoris a French kiss. He widened my stance and Angel dug his face even deeper into my pussy. I guess he hadn’t had enough dessert yet since he came back for seconds. I bit into my bottom lip and tried to maintain my balance in my stilettos as my legs wobbled from the oral cyclone happening between them. He licked my pussy like it was the last one he was ever going to see in his lifetime. My flesh became hot and moist as beads of sweat emerged from my pores. The hand cuff chains rattled against the pole as my body vibrated from the inside out. Waves of pleasure rushed through every cell of my body until I erupted again. He stood up and took his boxers and jeans off. He had a big, thick cock like those that dildos are molded from. He gripped his staff and massaged the head against my clit and dripping pussy lips. He bent his knees and maneuvered his way inside. He cupped my ass and told me to wrap my legs around his waist. My moist back slid against the pole as he lifted me in the air. Angel held my back and ass tightly as I rode his stiff, thick cock in midair. I rolled my waist like a Jamaican stripper feeling Angel plunge in and out of my slick walls. He fucked me rigorously against the beam, both of us moaning with labored breaths. I lowered my feet and Angel uncuffed me. Next, he led me to the balcony where the city lights glittered in the night sky. He bent me over a white lounge chair and wrapped my hair in his fist. At first, it started out as a nice smooth stroke and gradually became a rough doggy-style thrashing. I threw my ass repeatedly until his forceful thrusts became slow jerks and I felt his warm semen pour down my leg.