The Devil in Jemma Dean

"Aw, Shit" thought Starr as she looked down on her man. Bobby was a young, tall, caramel colored steelworker with a face as handsome as a movie star's. Tonight, though, was drunk and had passed out on their California king sized bed. His drool dripped upon the pillow. His dick hung limply as a soggy dishrag. The TV across the room was still playing the fourth quarter of the Raiders game. They were losing, and as usual Bobby's last words were "After the game, Babe I promise."

She looked down at the fifth of Jemma Dean Brandy that they had shared. The blonde on the bottle smiled provocatively from the label. Her scant bikini barely covered her perky tits and tiny ass. Her emerald eyes sparkled as her blonde locks stood suspended in wind and time. Starr fumed. How many nights had this blonde bitch taken her man from her?

She stared at herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. Yes, she certainly wasn't miss Jemma. Her afro puffs would never fall to her shoulders. Her chestnut eyes would never twinkle. Her large brown breasts would never fit behind a string bikini. Even if they did, there was no thong that her thick ass wouldn't swallow. Hell, her shaved pussy probably stood out further than Jemma's pale ass ever would.

Starr spread her legs and squeezed her tight slit open. The pink inside made it look like a hungry open mouth. Those lips were just as full and kissable as the ones on her face. Her round eyes sloped slightly down towards her chin giving her a natural "fuck me" glance. The blue eye shadow she wore only enhanced her seductiveness. Her nose stood proud and wide as the queens of ancient Kemet.

Her pussy was just as royal. Her fingers probed her smooth velvet box and searched for the familiar ridge. She found it, low and shallow in her tight hole. A thick sheet of wetness rained down into her thick thighs and nails.

She closed her eyes and pressed harder. Her mind and body swept into a lusty fog.

She laid on the bed and turned off the TV. She struggled to hold on to that delicious feeling. She spread herself again accidentally kicking Bobby in the thigh. He muttered incoherently and rolled over on his side still asleep.

"Fuck him" she thought. "It's time to cum."

Starr quickly rediscovered her special ridge. The wetness flowed as she continued to stroke it with a cum hither motion. Her pussy glowed with warmth as she inched her finger higher. Her left hand grabbed her breast as if programmed to do so. Her thumb rolled around the nipple flicking it freely.

Her finger reached higher pressing the soft slippery button under her clit. Her hips bucked forward as she placed her thumb on top of her sexy mound.

A whimper left her mouth as her finger traveled to more sensuous ground. A second digit turned the whimpers into moans. The come hither motion turned to sharp stabs as she dreamed of the way Bobby used to tear her apart.

Her tiny fingers paled against his hard thick manhood, but they would do tonight. The warm kisses he once spattered on her neck. The way his rough hands used to grab her ass for dear life-- both were just a fond memory.

Starr's fingers slowed. The left hand left her breast.

"GODAMNIT!" She cursed.

She shook Bobby to try and wake him. His eyes popped open crazily.

"Bitch, I'm tired." he slurred.

He buried his head in her favorite silk pillow, grabbed what was left of the blanket, and fell asleep. His snores filled the bedroom.

Bobby sleeping was bad enough, but for Starr snoring was the ultimate turnoff. She grabbed the bottle of Jemma Dean and guzzled hard. Maybe she could drink enough to pass out her self- but had no luck. The bottle was now empty and his snores were still too loud.

Starr turned on the lamp on her nightstand. She walked towards the closet and realized that she was even sexier in the light. Her fine brown pillow ass curved a firm but feminine belly and those tits-- huge natural globes that caught many an eye.

The door was slightly open revealing a red evening dress. It was the kind that showed off her curves in all the right ways. It beckoned to be worn, so she reached out and ripped it from the hanger. She pulled it over her body and fastened the zipper from behind. It was sexy- even sexier without the bra and panties she normally wore.

Starr giggled as her nipples stuck through the fabric. She grabbed the matching five inch heels from the closet floor and strapped them to her feet.

She took another glance in the mirror and confirmed it- The queen had graduated to a sexual goddess. A fading stream of juice still clung to her thighs. She scooped it with her fingers and dabbed a little behind each ear. She grabbed her small red clutch and headed for the bedroom door.

She passed by the small kitchen and sparse living room. It was a tiny apartment and in a bad neighborhood, but at least it was clean and modern. Starr shrugged as she left the unit. It was time to get satisfied.

Sully's Tavern was a dark unassuming dive, one of many that littered the landscape of the small East Bay city. Donald sat at the bar alone sipping his fourth Stoli martini. His sales calls had all been busts and he was tired of rejection. Even the bartender had all but ignored him for the lure of late night medical soaps on a big screen TV. The liquor was helping, but didn't quite turn off his day. He couldn't even bring himself to loosen his tie.

Suddenly he heard the screech of tires in the outside lot. Donald turned toward the bar's grimy entrance. The bang of a slamming car door followed. He turned back to his drink. Whatever was going on outside shouldn't concern him. Donald wanted his world to be small as possible.

That all changed when Starr barreled inside.

He turned his head again. Yes, she sure was a looker, but with the day he was having.... forget it. He turned away. Better to keep drinking and sleep it off in the car. Somehow he didn't think the bartender would mind.

Starr tried to get the barkeep's attention, but the homely old hag was too glued to her stories to care.

"Excuse me, miss," she called.

The bartender finally noticed her. "I would like a shot of Jemma Dean, if it's not too much trouble."

The bartender sighed and rolled her eyes as she grabbed the bottle from the bottom shelf. She poured the shot. Starr downed it and slammed the glass to the counter.

"Another," she demanded. "This time make it a double. Then you can go back to your McDreamy show."

The bartender sneered and served her in a highball glass.

Starr took a long pull and sized up Donald. She noticed his sandy brown hair, deep blue eyes and mismatched pants and blazer. Classic bachelor apparel. Sexiest of all was that he was desperately trying to sneak secret glances of her.

No, he wasn't a dreamboat like her Bobby, but he'd do. She got up and sat down at the stool next to his.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Who cares?" He replied.

"Is this your spot?"

"It is tonight."

Donald drained the rest of his Martini. Starr turned to the bartender.

"Hey Missy" she growled. "My new friend is thirsty. Get him another martini, put it on my tab."

The bartender handed Donald his drink. Starr grabbed her brandy and raised the glass. Donald raised his in kind.

"A toast to better days" she declared.

"To better days" agreed Donald.

The glasses clinked. His modest sip contrasted her gulp.

Both braced themselves as the liquor burnt their throats and walloped their heads. Starr processed Donald from head to toe and back.

"Yunno, you kind of look like that singer." she mentioned

"Which one?" he asked.

"Does it matter? You're fucking hot. That's what matters"

Donald dared a full look at Starr. Naturally he noticed the pretty face, but most striking of all were the massive breasts she deliberately rested on the bar counter. He tried to play it off with a respectful glance back to her face, but it was no use. The hardened nipples called and his eyes answered.

Naturally Starr was well aware of what Donald's intentions were. He was just one of many men and women that gravitated towards her bosom. Sometimes it bothered her, but certainly not tonight.

She took another suggestive swig. Donald turned his entire body completely towards hers. His red faced grinned from one ear to the other.

"Wow, you are something else" he declared

"What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned

"Well... just look at you... I mean"

"Mmmhmm...."

"Well, you got a gorgeous face"

"Okay"

"You have beautiful green eyes"

"They're brown, but okay, what else?"

Donald steeled himself with another sip. He coughed and began to speak.

"You also have....Ummmm.... Fuck it. You have an amazing rack."

He secretly barred his teeth bracing for the impact of another rebuke. Instead Starr grabbed his hand and placed it just above her left areola. She took a quick sip of her brandy.

"You know, sir, there is a lot more to me than just some tits and a pretty face" she said coyly.

"I bet there is," replied Donald. "I'm sure you are a unique and complicated woman."

Starr chuckled. "Is that the best you can do? You have your hand all over my titty and all you can talk about is how unique and complicated I am? Please."

She removed his hand, left the stool, turned her back and bent over to the floor.

"Excuse me for a moment. I believe I dropped a quarter."

Starr pretended to search for the imaginary coin. With five inch heels on her thick sexy ass was positioned mere inches from Donald's waist. He took another sip. His brain told him to stay still, but the liquor compelled him.

He stood, grabbed Starr by the waist and pulled her against his pelvis. Starr felt the steel of Donald's hard dick press against her ass crack. Donald crashed into her with slow, even thrusts.

"Keep going." she cooed lustily.

Donald gasped. His thrusts grew harder.

Starr spun around. "You and I are leaving this place together. Right now." she commanded.

"But what about our drinks?" asked Donald.

Starr silently drained the remaining brandy in her glass. She then snatched up Donald's martini and finished it in a single gulp. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the door.

"Now we can go," She declared.

"But what about the tab?" He asked.

"That's why were leaving right now... Hurry up, that heifer's show is about to end."

They headed outside. The thrill of stolen booze was fresh and alive in their minds. Donald grabbed the keys to unlock his yellow Prius. Starr yanked him away.

"Fuck your car, you're going home with me."

She jerked him towards her blue Pontiac Firebird. She opened the door and all but pushed him into the passenger seat. Donald reached over and unlocked the driver side door as she came around the car.

She smiled and said "Well thank you kind sir."

She then turned the key and roared the engine. She burnt rubber out of the parking lot before Donald even had a chance to put on his seat belt.

The front door unlocked as Donald and Starr entered the apartment. They were greeted by the echoes of Bobby's snores.

"Is there someone else here?" asked Donald.

"No, that's the TV." replied Starr. "Now hush, you don't want to wake the neighbors."

She slipped into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

She looked at Bobby who was passed out on his back. Snoring, motionless, dick limp and useless. She knew she had to shut him up to get the satisfaction she desperately craved, but how could she get it without waking him up?

With delicate hands, she slowly inched the drool-potted comforter out of his tight grasp and tossed it aside. She saw his muscular tatted chest pump up and down as the snoring grew louder.

Looking down at her love, a wave of guilt blew a slight breeze over her mind. She recapped the night, the drunken car ride, the stolen liquor, the possible kidnapping of a man she was about to seduce.

Worst was the betrayal of her finance. How could she ever look deep into his eyes again without him seeing it? Would the soothing liquor wash away the sins of the evening?

As Starr pondered this questions, she heard the sharp click of a deadbolt being turned in the living room.

Donald was about to leave. She lifted her dress and stuck a hand up to her thigh. Her pussy was still throbbing with a desperate warm wetness.

She made a decision.

Starr instinctively gave Bobby's ribcage a sharp jab with her elbow. He replied with a startled snort and tightened his arms to his chest.

Starr held her breath.

Bobby's eyes opened sharply. They scanned the room as if looking for an intruder. She stroked the side of his cheek with the back of her hand. He relaxed a little.

She stroked again. His eyes stilled. She kissed his forehead. His lids drooped, his neck dove deep into the pillow and once again Bobby returned to peaceful silent sleep.

Starr rushed back into the living room in time to see Donald walking out the front door. Just as he was shutting it behind him her powerful dark hands grabbed his gray sport coat collar and yanked him back inside.

Her red nails scratched his neck as she grabbed his throat and whispered in his ear "Where the Hell do you think you're going?"

"Air..." he choked "I need air."

Starr peered deep into his pale blue eyes and hovered mere inches from his face.

"So I put your hands on my titty, my pussy out on a silver platter and you're going to tell me that you need air?" Starr grabbed his throat even tighter.

Starr led him towards the couch. Her faced curved into a sexy crazed smile. Donald's lips moved to respond but lacked the wind to do so.

She interrupted "You sure don't have much to say now, do you?".

She pushed him on the forest green cushions while keeping her hand on his throat. Her right hand clawed his crotch, feeling his bulge begin to stir.

Starr massaged Donald's groin. She was shocked not only by its growing girth, but also from the sheer heat it emitted. She wondered if he had a sauna in his pants.

The warmth made her strokes grow slower and more determined. As the size increased and Donald's organ grew more defined she could now make out the head, shaft and balls with her slender fingers.

For the first few moments she dragged the edge of her long red nails against his struggling member.

Her pussy yawned and drooled down her leg. Her heart beat thundered as she kneaded his shaft smiling wickedly as it struggled to bust free from the prison of the tan corduroy slacks.

Starr's daydream overtook her to the point that she forgot Donald couldn't breath. A violent jerk from his neck reminded her. Starr gazed up and saw his pale face take on a slight shade of blue.

She moved her hand from his crotch to his mouth and whispered slowly into his ear.

"Listen cutey pie." she began. "I'm going to be really nice and let you breath a little, but if you should try to run or wake up my neighbors then I will catch you and knock you over the head. You'll wake up in a gutter unable to remember how you got there. Worst of all my fine, sexy pink panther will forever be something you only dream about. Now, can I trust you to behave yourself?"

Donald responded with a desperate nod.

"Good boy" she replied. "Cooperate and I'll make this the best night of your life."

She slowly relaxed the grip on his throat and slid her hand from his mouth.

Donald gasped and savored his returning breath. The air overflowed his yearning lungs until he coughed.

Starr grabbed his throat once again and cruely taunted, "Don't...wake.... the neighbors."

She slowly released the grip. Donald regained his composure. She lifted her hands from his face.

Starr stood erect. Her stance softened into sweetness. Her eyes did the same and almost magically changed from chestnut brown to light hazel. Her smile grew tight and inviting as an LA billboard star.

She knelt down before him in a saucy bunny dip giving him a second lingering stare at her ample rack. She tipped his chin up away from her with her fingers.

She slapped him firmly and nodded her finger in disapproval.

"No, you don't deserve to see these." She scolded. "You left".

"Well, technically I didn't" countered Donald. "I'm still here".

"If I hadn't crashed your escape you'd be out there walking down Smalley Ave in the dark, three miles away from your damn car. You'd risk that kind of misery rather than get a sure piece of ass?"

"It's not that it's just..."

"What?!"

"you came on kind of strong... it was a little scary."

"How else is a woman supposed to get her needs met when men like you don't even have the balls to strike up a conversation? I spend hours picking my clothes and getting my make up right, now I have to make the first move too? Well I'm gonna make sure it works because I am NOT going back to bed unsatisfied."

Her face curled into an angry scowl as she marched into the bedroom. She walked out with the neck of the empty Jemma Dean bottle in her hand. She raised it over her head as she approached him in unsteady steps.

"You see this girl?" She asked.

Donald sat stunned with fear as he gazed on the pale hula girl.

"Watch your self or she will fuck up the side of your head."

She placed the bottle on the ground turned her back to him and sat her thick ass firmly on his lap. She tossed her long braids from her neck to her shoulders. Then she reached behind her, snatched his hands and led them to her collarbone.

"Unzip me."

Donald stroked the length of her back as his fingers found the gray zipper. He peeled it down and watched her back reveal itself. It was smooth with taut skin stretched over a round feminine frame.

Donald open the zipper to the last possible tooth. Starr turned towards him. the straps of her dress held the sexy fabric loosely over her massive mamaries and round belly. He tried to stretch his glances around the corners of the front. Maybe he could catch a glimpse of an areola.

Starr noticed him immediately just as she had at the bar. She placed her fingers under his chin and summoned his face to her bosom.

"Take it off." she ordered.

Donald reached for the left strap. Starr slapped his knuckles.

"Not with your hands."

She jerked her head towards him and made a biting motion. Donald bit down on the corner of her left dress strap.

He kissed her shoulders as he carefully lifted the tie with his teeth. Starr shifted her arm to allow the fabric to fall. Donald did the same with the second strap. Starr caught the front of the dress with her chin just before the garment could fall and finally reveal her full, puffy honeydew melon-sized breasts.

She drew him closer with a smoky glance.

"This move is yours."

Donald was overwhelmed with lust and passion. As his breaths deepened his sexual instincts took over.

This was the hunt. Starr was a wounded gazelle in the path of a ravenous lion. There was no time to plan or second guess. It was time to think with his dick for a change.

Donald stood up from the couch with his slacks jutting from his thighs. His shoulders snapped back as he swept towards her. His right arm ambushed her waist. His left rushed the back of her neck.

He looked down on her hungrily as he cast his mouth towards her. His lips rained down one hundred kisses while his tongue tickled the tip of hers.

Her tongue asserted itself back as they darted frantically through each others mouth. Donald

pressed into her deeper until Starr had to dip her head back.

Her chin opened. The dress fell to her waist with only her ass keeping it completely off the floor. Donald immediately softened his kisses, placing her plump lips in between his.

She whispered a gasp as he sucked slightly. He quickly replaced one lip with the other, sucked, released, and shot a tongue deeply into her wet mouth.