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The only thing my mom had ever said to either of us about sex was that waiting until marriage was stupid and just don’t “get pregnant,” while her only comment about my being gay was that it gave her one less thing to worry about, one less potential disgrace for the family—I wouldn’t bring home a bastard.

Otherwise, my mom didn’t care about anything. When I was tiny we’d moved to South America, and there, she and my father had split. She brought us back here when I was seven or eight.

And then? My mom just…broke like a fucking porcelain doll—arms and legs in place, head shattered, only she said it was her heart. I’d always thought it was because my father had remarried and wanted nothing to do with his “old family.” Fuckhead.

We had moved into her sister’s, my aunt Carolina’s, home, where she and her husband had created an apartment out of the basement for us so we could have our own family unity.

It was a beautiful place. They’d constructed stairs so we could have our own entrance, enlarged the windows so we’d have plenty of light, and really, we treated the rest of the house as if it was ours too. In fact, my aunt gave us girls our cousin’s old bedroom—but it wasn’t ours, not really, as my mom reminded me and Elena every day.

“This is not your home, girls,” she’d cry from the sofa as tears streamed down her cheeks, “this is not your station in life.” She’d sob, then sob some more about how one day someone would lift the curse they’d placed on her life.

And despite the light and the room and the unconditional and unquestioning love that my aunt and uncle and cousins gave us, all my mom did was lie on the sofa all day with the shades drawn. Some days she didn’t bother to dress at all because she had headaches, her chest hurt, she had “too many troubles.”

Oh, she had her moments, great ones, like when Elena broke her ankle playing in the schoolyard and my mother not only made sure Elena was well taken care of, but also somehow managed to convince the board to replace the old steel climbers with newer, safer construction and to lay rubber tiles on the tarmac. And the time a teacher unjustly gave me a detention and then lied to my mother, who pulled me out of school until he was removed from teaching.

She even belonged to some international legal association that asked her to come and speak from time to time, and on those days my mother shone. But really, all she wanted was to be brought back to her “place in life,” her proper station, back to the respect she’d had as a prosecuting attorney, then later as a judge, and the inheritance that waited for the family back in South America.

She
hated
that I was becoming an emergency medical technician. Why couldn’t I be more like my cousin who had gotten scholarships everywhere? Why couldn’t I just go straight to medical school? My cousin could have if she had wanted to, or so my mom had told me more times than I could count, but instead, she’d started a very successful record label. At least, my mom said, my cousin knew her place in life, what she should be.

I sighed and shook my head. If I didn’t work, who’d support my mom and my sister? And yeah, my grades were decent enough, but not enough for a scholarship—how could I get a scholarship if I didn’t have time to study because I had to work? I
was
trying, that was for sure…

Fuck that for now, though, I thought as I checked myself in the hall mirror one last time. Everyone, the whole family, would be there tonight, and for at least one night, my mom would feel okay. She was great at these social occasions, situations where she felt she was again in “her place,” the guest of honor. I suppose it reminded her of who she’d been in South America—known to the politicians, feared by drug cartels, and loved by the poor and the underclass.

*

The car was waiting for us when we came out of the apartment building—nothing ostentatious, but definitely a nice black sedan with a uniformed woman holding a sign that said “Tori” in green block letters.

“She’s hot,” Kerry told me with a grin as we got in for the ride.

“Is she? I didn’t notice.”

“Really?” Kerry drawled with apparent disbelief. “What did you notice, then?”

“You,” I told her, and kissed away the pout on those pretty lips, “and your little black velvet skirt, the cadet-gray jacket nice and snug over your…” and I let my hands show her what I meant.

Kerry sighed as she kissed me back. “So where
are
we going?” she asked, her fingers tracing down my neck. “Is it that very, very special that you can’t tell me now?” She edged even closer and I gently took her hands in mine before they traveled anywhere else.

“You’ll never get it out of me,” I teased her back, still careful to avoid her hands when she tried to tickle me again as we sprawled across that luxurious backseat.

“Is this that Angel tour concert? The breast cancer fund-raiser with all those artists?” she asked excitedly, and rattled off the list as we pulled in front of a multilevel nightclub, Nox, that had private parking below it on Manhattan’s East Fifty-seventh.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” I grinned at her. “Cool, right?”

Kerry seemed to be lost in thought. “Yeah…that is really cool,” she answered almost absentmindedly before she gave me a dazzling smile. “How did you manage to score tickets for this?”

“My cousin’s performing tonight.” I was rather pleased with myself as the driver opened the door for us.

“Aha!” Kerry said, her eyes evaluating me. “And can I ask who that is?”

“Well,” I drawled, “that would be part two of tonight’s surprise.”

She raised her eyebrows at me.

“We’re invited to the after-party—I’ll introduce you then.” I grinned as we walked over to the door. I knew how popular my cousin and her band were. This
was
going to be cool.

As I cupped Kerry’s face, I didn’t know if I really loved her or not, but I knew I cared about her and really did love the way she looked at me like she did at that moment, with a mixture of amusement and affection.

She laughed and took my hand as I felt in my pocket for our passes. I gave them to Kerry, who promptly draped one around her neck, then did the same for me. “Let’s show these people how to dance.”

I agreed as the bouncer glanced at our passes and waved us in, past the waiting crowd and into the club.

It was a great show—four bands, then my cousin with a rockin’ DJ in between sets, and honestly, my cousin was phenomenal. I’d attended her performances before when she was in town, but never in such an intimate setting—she rarely played anything smaller than a concert hall—and it was great to watch the way she interacted with the crowd, she and her wife, her partner, who played bass behind her.

When she saw me from the stage she waved and said, “Hey, Tori!” into the microphone.

I waved back and beamed at her—she was just way too cool.

Kerry tugged on my sleeve lightly. “You know her?” she asked in my ear, then stared back at the stage.

“Know her?” I answered in Kerry’s ear as the people cheering around us made it almost impossible to speak. “Nina Boyd’s my cousin.”

Kerry faced me again, plainly shocked, and I smiled even bigger.

“That,” she said, and pointed, “that’s your cousin?”

“Yeah,” I answered, still beaming, “can’t you tell?”

She stared again at where Nina waved to the crowd with a smile, my smile. She tossed her head and her hair, same texture as mine only longer, a bit redder, settled around her shoulders as she laughingly agreed to “one more!”

Kerry scrutinized me again. “Yeah…I can,” she said finally, “that’s so…so…wow.” She shook her head. “Any other surprises?” She grinned crookedly before returning her attention to the stage.

“Just one…” I whispered into her neck as I wrapped my arms around her. Kerry pressed her hips back against me.

“Oh…” she said, and wiggled harder. My groin jerked into her, an automatic response whenever she was that close to my cock, and she turned in my arms. “Is that for me?” A smile played at the edge of her lips, and her eyes simmered as they hooked onto mine and she rubbed suggestively against me.

I caught my lip between my teeth and let my breath hiss out. “Do you want to wait for it or do you want it now?” I asked her. I’d learned in the last few months that Kerry liked to live dangerously. I’d also learned I liked to help and, in fact, I enjoyed it.

“How about both?” she teased, kissing my neck, pressing her body even harder against mine.

The place was jammed with people. No one would notice if we left, and maybe we’d make it back for the after-party—maybe not.

“Let’s go.” I knew how to get down to the garage, as well as every quiet hallway along the way.

“I like the way you think,” Kerry said as I took her by the hand.

We eased through the press of the crowd and out a side door to the hallway that led to the stairs—and the garage. As the door slammed behind us, Kerry shoved me up against the wall and began to jerk me off.

I bit her neck none too gently as I cupped her breasts under her jacket, then tugged on the hardened points beneath my fingers.

Fuck it. No one came down this hallway, and if they did, well, I didn’t care.

“Now,” I breathed harshly into her ear, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

“You better,” she agreed as I pulled that tiny bit of her satin thong out of the way, letting my fingers glide along that thick, wet fold. “Fucking hot,” I groaned, because the slip of my fingers along her waiting cunt, the feel of her clit so hard under my hand, fired my clit to bursting.

Her fingers slipped nimbly along my fly to release my cock, and she gripped it firmly, pumping me.

“You wanna play or you wanna fuck?” she asked, her eyes glinting as she reached around my neck to bite my lip.

I widened my stance so my groin would be level with hers.

She bit me again and her body lurched into me when I dipped into her slightly, so I could feel the tighteninggrip of her cunt around me, that slick tight feeling, the smooth entry that wanted me. When I took my fingers away I held them to her lips, and her tongue played around my fingertips as we both tasted her cunt. With my free hand I gripped the head of my cock and teased it between her lips, rubbing up and down, spreading that slickness, and as her hips started to rock, I let her clit ride my head.

“C’mon, baby…please,” she asked, a throaty moan that made my stomach clench.

My dick was now against her opening, just the very tip inside her, and I pushed lightly, maintaining pressure without really entering. But that’s not how I wanted to fuck her, and I knew for a fact she’d like what I had in mind even better.

“Turn around,” I growled into her ear as I eased my hips away.

Kerry’s breath caught a moment, and she grabbed my dick roughly before she did as I asked.

I slipped an arm around her waist, bent my legs, and eased up under her, and together we guided my dick into her waiting cunt.

“Oh, yeah…” one of us sighed as I filled her.

“That’s…nice…” I huffed out as I felt myself sink into her.

The sounds of the band on the other side of the wall made it seem that “one more” from Nina had turned into “okay, another,” which meant that we had some time, but not a lot.

When Kerry craned her head around, I leaned over to kiss her as I slid slowly in and out a few times and reached for her clit.

Over the course of the last few years since I’d really started dating, I’d come to know that there are women who like their clits stroked. Others like to be jerked off, and still others love that constant caressing pressure that rubs the hood along the shaft.

But when Kerry had my cock stretching her pussy from behind with a deep, fast thrust, she liked the shaft of her clit stroked from below so the exposed head could fuck my fingers.

“That is so fucking good…you fuck me so right…so…fucking…right…” she moaned as my hips forced her against the wall and she grabbed my arms, pushing herself back into my chest.

My clit throbbed behind my dick as I fucked her, an exquisite, painful pleasure, and torn between needing more and giving more, I pressed harder on her clit, which swelled as it grazed my skin.

“Come, baby,” I crooned into her ear, my eyes half closed as I felt the burn intensify, narrowing its focus from my groin to just my clit, “come with your pussy wrapped around my cock.”

She gasped and ground down on me, and I knew that the combination of the fuck and the words was bringing her to the edge.

“So close,” she groaned as she released my arm to reach for my shoulder, “so fucking close!”

Her fingers dug into the muscle as her body waved, then arched, rigid against me. The cry she wanted to let go strangled in her throat, and I tightened my grip around her waist so she wouldn’t fall as she released my shoulder.

“God, Tori,” she breathed heavily, her head leaning on my collarbone.

I kissed her neck as I carefully withdrew from her so-hot cunt and slipped my dick back into my pants. “You okay?” I nuzzled the soft skin of her neck. Her fine blond hairs tickled against my cheeks, as soft as rabbit fur, and I adjusted her skirt.

“Wonderful, baby, just wonderful,” she answered. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with that sexy just-been-fucked languor.