I had first started doing it to prove to Madonna how much I cared for her, and often asked her to let me do hers, but she balked at the thought. Fuck that bitch!
Before I could even get over the fact that I had been in Shane’s mind as much as she had been in mine, she was lifting me off the floor and carrying me to the bedroom. Yes, carrying me. She laid me on my back, spread my legs, and her warm tongue invaded my walls as I moaned in pure delight. I played with my nipples while she sucked on my hardened clit. My thighs began to shiver as she slid her finger into my asshole and started working both my holes. I grabbed a pillow and started biting on the corner to muffle a scream as I came for the first time.
Shane looked up at me. “I’ve wanted to taste your cum since the day you came on that stool.”
I tried to catch my breath as I let go of the pillow with my teeth. “You saw that, huh?”
“Not only did I see it, I yearned to come up there and lick every drop off the stool. That was one lucky stool, to have your pussy sitting on top of it. All I could think about was that it should have been my face.”
“Damn, Shane!” I said. “This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but I think I love you!”
I jumped up and pushed her on her back, demanding, “I have to taste you. Right now.”
I dove in with my tongue, having never wanted to explore a woman’s pussy more in my entire life. Shane tasted like the Pina Coladas we drank at Too Deep, but I could tell that she had a healthy diet, like myself. I ate her like my life depended on it. In many ways, it did. I needed her in my life and I had to do whatever I could to make sure that she would never want another.
We spent the next four hours pleasuring one another. I ate her from four different angles: spread eagle, from the back, with her on top of my face, and in the shower with her foot propped up on the side of the tub. Each time that I tasted her, it only got better and better.
When we were in the shower, I sucked on her breasts so erotically and so passionately that I came twice just from doing that. Shane gave as good as she got and turned me out in ways that I had never even imagined…in my mind. She ate me out on the kitchen table off a canvas and later, she shellacked my juices onto it so we could always remember our first time together.
By the time Madonna had returned from her business trip, I had moved out and in with Shane. The woman she had been tied up with had left her. As suspected, she had been cheating all along. Hell, she dropped her dime and I picked it up. Shane and I often paint and sketch each other. It had been years since I had sketched a nude and I never wanted to sketch another one outside of her.
Shane will forever be…in my mind.
Zane is the New York Times bestselling author of more than ten titles, the editor of numerous anthologies, and the publisher of Strebor Books, an imprint of ATRIA Books/Simon and Schuster. She is also the executive producer of several television and film projects, including Zane’s Sex Chronicles, an original Cinemax program loosely based on her life. You can visit her online at: www.eroticanoir.com, join her mailing list by sending a blank email to
[email protected] or visit her MySpace page at www.myspace.com/zaneland.
Zane, Purple Panties
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