Dark wouldn’t be asked twice. He stood and snapped out his belt, unbuckled his jeans, pushed the tight faded denim down his thighs just far enough that his thickening cock sprang out and settled to a slowly engorging erection. While waiting for it to fully rise, Devon shuffled closer on her knees and tugged the jeans clear of his clean-shaved balls. As though coaxing out a hidden length, she slipped her fingers under and into the hot space between his legs. She teased, not quite touching the loose skin. When Dark’s cock was upright she threw one last glance over at Keef on the bed and pulled it down.

Not a time for questions. Dark rested his hands on his hips holding up his shirt to see the wide mouth and lips of Keef’s chick rolling tight along the length of his cock. Devon knew what she was doing. She glanced up at him passively and would have laughed if she could: this was supposed to be pleasure, but poor Dark, his face was drawn long and agonised more like he had someone wrenching a squid-hook out of his ass – but Devon knew it was pleasure. Hot pleasure. The rare kind of pleasure that makes a man prance on his toes and contemplate marriage.

Dark reached down, in the giddy afterglow feeling the need to squeeze some tit, but Devon jumped away and with the lithe effortlessness of the gymnast she rose to her feet and threw long light-brown dancer’s hair over a shoulder. She sauntered toward the bed, said to Keef, ‘You know how hungry that makes me…’ Threw off her chemise. Drove her thumbs into the elastic of her panties.

Keef moved on the bed, hoisted his knees as though to lurch off.

Devon dived on him, legs splayed across his groin. She got his hands pinned behind his head only because he let her. He could have lifted her with one arm. She went over, buffed him with the stiff lace covering her breasts, came down and pushed hard fingers up through his long dark hair and palmed his cheeks and said directly into his face, ‘I just swallowed your best friend. How dirty do I have to get?’

‘You’ll know when you get there.’

‘Tell me what you want…’

He lifted her away with surprising gentleness. ‘We’re going out.’

Uh-uh. She captured his face in slender fingers, cupped him – the thousandth man – more fiercely than the first. The kind of face that always looks a little bit grubby, a little bit tanned, a little bit rough. She loved that face because it had two shapes: the one she saw, and the one she felt under her fingers. ‘Tell me. Whatever it is. Anything.’

And he never blinked. And his eyes peered and never showed his mind.

‘We’re going out. Get dressed.’

In a posed contradiction to the sensual, lip-bitten pout she used when deepest in thought, Devon sat primly upright on the leather seat of Keef’s car tugging at her yellow skirt, a space between herself and Keef, waiting for Dark to pull out into the late-night traffic. She liked this, being here in the back with Keef. It made her feel special as though assuming his privileges. If Dark was around, Keef never drove. Even alone with Dark, Keef would throw him the keys and climb into the rear seat and read. He wasn’t reading now though. Just sitting. Head bent forward slightly so it didn’t bang on the roof, staring out front past Dark’s head. He had a hand and long knuckly fingers pressed flat onto the seat between himself and Devon. Devon put her hand there too. Then closer until their fingers touched.

Keef pushed a hand into a pocket, pulled out a scrunch of money, tens twenties fifties, tossed them over beside Dark. He wiped the hand on his jeans, didn’t like touching money which was why mostly he let Dark or Devon handle that. He said, ‘Get some gas…’ and turned to Devon, unbuttoned her shirt, pushed it open just enough that he could unsnap the daisy at the centre of her bra. The heavy breasts fell with a jolt. With a fingertip Keef carefully nudged a cup away to expose a domed russet nipple to the gloom and frames of passing streetlamps. He watched the faint shimmer of light on the blonde fur defending the over-tanned skin between her breasts. The whole narrow cabinet of her chest rippled over a rapidly beating heart.

She swallowed and he followed the synchronous contractions down to the final tremble of her belly. Then he sighed through his nose when she lifted slightly so the exposed breast nodded and rose full and pointed from her chest. He flicked the wrinkled teat.

To his hand she said, ‘Want me to fuck Dark? We can stop somewhere.’

Dark flicked his head around and grinned, ‘That’s ok with me…’ In a flurry of hair and shirt and breast, Devon lashed out and swiped him, a loud skully smack. ‘Get fucked Dark. You’re a zero. Got it?’ She pulled his hair and held it. ‘You don’t exist. Just fucking drive.’

Keef patted Devon’s knee but said to Dark, ‘Just drive please.’

Dark shrugged defensively, ‘Kay… Okay… all right…’ and shook his head out of Devon’s grip and muttered under his breath and gunned Keef’s car toward a red light.

Devon pulled away, retreated to the corner away from Keef, sulking. Then she kicked up a knee. Then she spread both knees. Then not sulking any more, she ran a finger down the tight-stretched gusset of her panties. She said without moving her lips, ‘I hate not knowing.’ A breath. ‘I don’t think you know what it does to me.’ Another breath. ‘I wish you’d just tell me what you want. I like taking orders. You know that…’

‘This is not about me.’ Keef settled into his corner, smiling, amused.

‘The last one gave me orders. You used to give me orders.’

‘I’m not giving you orders any more. It has to come from you. It can only come from you.’

‘But how can I know if I’m getting it right? Huh?’

Devon sprang to nervous life, rummaged in her bag, lit a smoke and tossed the bag away and breathed a deep luxurious lungful of smoke through a lip-pinching squeeze of her pussy. Both felt good. Dark snatched at the air, hated smoke, wound his window down. Keef told him to wind it up.

‘That’s a stupid question.’

‘I need to be told. You know that.’ She threw re-sulky eyes over toward the windscreen, mashed out the smoke. ‘I just wish you’d do it like you used to. That was good. You didn’t make me think back then. You just did it. Huh?’

A long silence before she twitched a glance at Keef, began a prowl toward him. He cut her off with the slightest gesture of a hand and she retreated to her corner. She spread her thighs, saw Keef’s interest in her crotch and restrained a fuzzy addendum.

‘Like…?’

She had his attention and shivered and made a noise, noises, pressed thumb-tips and fingertips together, made an open-vagina shape outside her covered crotch, made it palpitate slowly, succulently. ‘Imagine your cock in there…’ She reached just inside the elastic of her panties either side and pulled out the hairy flesh. ‘Or in there…’ The car came to a jerking halt at an intersection and interrupted and Devon carefully draped a knee over and tugged her skirt down, and like the naughty waif she waited in innocence until they were moving again, checked and opened, lifted the panties aside and enticingly peeled her fingers through the wet lips. ‘Where are we going… Somewhere interesting?’

‘Just to eat.’

‘…I liked sucking Dark. He’s got a nice cock.’

Devon smiled across lip-stick faded lips, then the smile vanished as her lips twisted into an expression distant and opaque. She blitzed her clitoris with two fingers. Tossed her hair. Smelled her fingers.

‘I suppose he has. You enjoyed it.’ She mouthed something and undulated lean over-sexed hips and lifted and stretched and held for him. He said, ‘Are you going to come?’

‘Fuck yes.’

‘You can do it.’

Keef made an airplane of his hand, pinky and thumb outstretched opposed, flew it past her face. Devon darted at it with her mouth. He laughed and pulled away, went close again, this time allowing her a finger and she sucked a loud suck. He felt it, her tongue working, the way the suckling made the blood throb in the capillaries right at the end of his fingertip. It reminded him of the wet salivary hunger of a calf. He had done that many years ago, squatted and watched a calf drink uselessly from his finger. He watched Devon with the same vacant fascination.

‘Feel better?’

‘No.’ She pinched her panties across, covered herself delicately as though injured. Keef tapped Dark on the shoulder and said softly, ‘Don’t forget the gas.’

But Dark was already in a panic. The bar was not far ahead – he could see the red and blue neon. But Keef had said to get some gas. But they were right there at the bar. But what about the gas. Did Keef mean now? Right now? Or later…

Devon recovered her bag, ferreted around in it, pulled out a lipstick and mirror. She punched at her lips. God. What a mess. Tugged at her shirt, straightened the buttons. Keef smiled and watched the way her thighs stroked like kittens in a basket. Devon wasn’t aware of it.

She said absently, ‘I don’t have bad thoughts any more.’

‘Black thoughts.’

Devon pulled her skirt around, twisted it comfortable. Sat with bag up on her knees ready to go. She said to the night outside, ‘Bad thoughts… Black thoughts… Whatever. All I know is I’m happy now.’

“Still Life” © 2000 by Robert G.S.K. All rights reserved.