Springtime in the South has always been my favorite season; a time when everything seems to come alive with scents and colors. Coming after the grayness of winter makes this particularly so as if the blanket of snow has melted into a blanket of sensuality. I was already late and was periodically checking my rear view mirror for cops as I sped down Graham Street on my way to the post office.

Leafing through the usual junk mail and bills was a big black scented envelope. I could barely make out the words, “You’re Invited” through the translucent vellum. I turned the envelope over and found a perfect oval kiss impression on the center of the seal. As I drove away, I was so curious I almost opened the mysterious letter before I got home, but decided to wait until I had some privacy and a glass of wine.

After a few sips of Chateau Margaux, I wedged the thin blade of the letter opener under the envelope flap, careful not to tear the fragile vellum. The invitation was hand-written in beautiful calligraphy in gold ink on black card stock. At the top was a thin satin black ribbon bow. Obviously, someone had put forth a lot of time and effort. The card read:

To

Phoebe Lawson

In

Celebration of Spring

You’re Invited for an Evening

of

Sensual Delights

Friday Night at 9:00

Attire: Black Slip

AdultMatchMaker:
Hot Sour Salty Sweet
2367 Willow Lane
Philadelphia 19142
or
hsss@hotmail.com

I recognized our street address. I should have known it was Natalie. She was an artist and a very successful graphic designer here in Philadelphia. We had met in Atlanta four years ago, fell madly in love and moved here together Christmas before last, searching for a less conservative, more open minded environment. Atlanta offered some great things, especially mild weather, but for gay people and artists, it was a difficult place to call home. Natalie had always been a lesbian. I had had a couple of affairs with women, but mostly had been with men. When I got to know Natalie all that changed. She was everything I ever wanted in a lover. I met her on a summer afternoon in Piedmont Park where I had gone to run my dog, Flip, and throw Frisbee. It was hot. Flip was panting profusely and I was covered in sweat when I saw her gathering up her blanket and sketchbooks. She was tall and trim and very tan. Her dark skin made her muscles, which were already cut, more defined. Her hair was as black as coal, short but thick and wavy. She was wearing camouflage cargo shorts, tattered Nikes and a white tank top. I thought she was beautiful. Flip ran up to her, laid the Frisbee at her feet and seemed to say “C’mon don’t go yet.” Watching her, I was in complete agreement.

“Hi there,” she said petting Flip on the head. “You wanna play?”

God, she was gorgeous and to make it more alluring she had a British accent.

“Hi,” I said. “Sorry, Flip never gets enough.”

“That’s okay. I know the feeling. He’s really cute.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Natalie.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Phoebe. You’re obviously not from Atlanta. Are you British?”

She smiled. “I grew up in London but studied art at Emory. I was so seduced by the weather I decided to stay.”

She threw the Frisbee to Flip and he bounded off toward the row of dogwoods to retrieve it. It was impossible to not notice her muscular arms. I was sure she noticed me looking. She seemed to think nothing of it. I’m sure she was used to people having this reaction.

“Were you drawing?” I asked, looking at the stack of sketchpads.

“I was just finishing up. I’m working on some menu covers for Violette, the French restaurant on Clairemont.”

I knew the place. It was supposed to be one of the best in town, a little too rich price wise, for me.

“I’m a graphic artist and I just got them as an account. It’s been a good project. They’re pretty cool and they let me eat there for free, at least until the job’s done.”

“Wow, that’s what I call a perk. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

Her dark eyes sparkled as she looked at me.

“Well, I’m going there after I get home and get cleaned up. You’re welcome to join me if you like. They don’t mind if I bring a guest and I could use the company.”

I was taken aback, but intrigued by this beautiful woman and eager to sample the cuisine at Violette.

“Really? That sounds like fun. Thanks, that’s very generous. It’ll take me about an hour to wash up and change. I just live across from the park.”

I gave her my address and she said she’d pick me up in about an hour.

When I got home, I was breathless from our encounter. There was an incredible chemistry between us. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I had felt this vibe before and it was usually a sign of wild nights and wilder sex. I imagined her hands on my body, those beautiful arms engulfing me. I had never been so attracted to a woman. I had already had a glass of wine by the time she knocked on my door. She wore black trousers and a thin white cotton shirt. This woman seemed to radiate elegance and grace. Flip was totally charmed. He was so hyper about seeing her again I had to lure him to the study where he happily stayed with his toys and chew sticks. I was hyper too, but tried not to show it.

“Hi again,” she said. “Great house. I love these old oak floors and high ceilings.”

“Yeah, I instantly fell in love with this place. It was the first house I saw and the only one I made an offer on. Would you like a glass of wine before dinner?”

“That’d be nice.”

“Off my bedroom upstairs there’s a screen porch that overlooks the park. Let’s go up there and have our wine. I love to sit up there this time of day.”

We took our glasses and sat across from each other on the big floor cushions. I got back up to light some candles. She could probably see I was nervous and excited. She was definitely surveying me as I looked for matches and turned on the stereo. I felt like she was trying to determine if I was gay or not. I didn’t consider myself one or the other. I had been both and was quite comfortable with both. I stretched out on the big pillow only a few feet from her.

“I love your long curly hair,” she said. “You’re so lucky. Redheads pick up light beautifully.”

I blushed and said I was tempted to cut it every summer, but never quite made the leap.

“It would be a shame,” she said, “to lose those gorgeous curls.”

“What do you do Phoebe?”

“I’m the lifestyles editor for Heads and Heels. It’s a magazine based here in Atlanta, but our circulation covers the whole east coast. It’s mostly for women, but we’re starting to get a lot of gay male subscribers. I really like it. Atlanta needs a little shaking up in the lifestyles department.”

She laughed and relaxed on the cushion lying on her side perched up on her elbow.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her long slender fingers. By now we had each downed two glasses of wine and Violette, mouth-watering enough wasn’t nearly as appetizing as what was happening right now.

“Are you gay Phoebe?”

“Sometimes.” I wasn’t at all shocked by her question and actually appreciated her directness.

She moved toward me, turned my head toward her and kissed me deeply with her open mouth. Her tongue was warm and confident and exploring. Like an oyster on the half shell, I savored every moment it was in my mouth.

“Would one of those times be now?” She asked releasing me.

“After a kiss like that, could there be any doubt.”

We never made it to Violette. In fact for a year after that we hardly ever left the bedroom. With every passing day, our sex got bolder and hotter. About a week after our first encounter, Natalie told me she had a strap-on and asked me if I’d ever done that with a woman. I hadn’t. She said she loved doing it. I was unprepared for how it felt when she turned me over and put her cock in me.

“Get on all fours,” she said, placing some pillows under my tummy. “Relax and let the cushions support you.”

My juices were starting to flow and it felt like there was a burning ember between my legs. I heard her flip open the top of the lube bottle. She started easy like the rhythm of a slow rain. When she was sure I could take all of her cock and obviously loved what she was doing, she began grinding me relentlessly, hammering her cock inside me like a wild animal.

“You’re good Baby,” she said. “I love the way you take my cock. I want to fuck you raw. I want to fuck you till you beg me to stop and then I want to fuck you harder. I’m gonna make you cum like no man has ever made you cum. I’m going to fuck every part of you.”

It started as a low deep tremble and built up to a volcanic orgasm. I collapsed into the pillows, my whole body shaking from the power of a pleasure I had never before experienced. She had been right about one thing; no man had ever made me feel this way.

She stopped fucking me but kept her cock inside. She lay down on top of me and stroked my face, kissing me tenderly.

“This is just a break,” she said. “We’re not done yet.”

Always, in those moments right before I came, I felt owned by her beauty and power, enslaved by her lovemaking skills and my own deep desires. It didn’t take long for our roles to define themselves. I always received and she assertively used my body in any ways she wished.

One night she took my clothes off and dressed me in my black slip, nothing else. As she pulled the satin over my head, she said, “We’re going to play a little game tonight. Lay down on the bed on your back.”

I did as I was told. She took a box out of the closet and sat down on the side of the bed so I could see everything as she took it out.

“We won’t need all these things, just a few of them.”

She took out a pair of plush black cuffs with silver rings in the middle.

“Put your arms down in front of you and clasp your hands together.”

She put the cuffs on my wrists and hooked them together. This was new. Our sex was already beyond my wildest dreams, but it was about to get wilder. I wasn’t at all afraid. I would have done anything for this woman.

Next she removed a velvet blindfold and placed it over my eyes. She pulled on it to make sure it was secure.

“Can you see? It needs to be tight enough so you can’t see anything.”

I couldn’t make out a thing, but the rose oil Natalie always wore immediately became stronger.

“Good,” she said. “This is a game of sensuality at its most basic level. I’m going to let you smell and taste certain things. They will all be hot, sour, salty, or sweet. You are not to move and you can only open your mouth and use your tongue on my command. You’ll be rewarded or not based on your answers. Do you understand?”

The smell of tangerines filled the room.

“Sour,” I said as I felt motion above my face.

“Very good. Open your mouth, just a little bit and stick out your tongue.”

I pursed my lips and stuck out my tongue as far as I could. It was a strange sensation in the dark, not knowing what was going to happen.

Natalie placed her tangerine soaked nipple onto my tongue.

“Lick it, but don’t move your mouth, you are only allowed to use your tongue.”
I could hear her soft moans. Then suddenly, there was nothing, so I closed my mouth.

“I didn’t tell you to shut your mouth,” Natalie spoke harshly and slapped my breast hard with her hand.

I grunted.

“I forgot to tell you,” she said. “This game involves pleasure and pain. Now open your mouth.”

I did and also stuck my tongue out. Whack! Again on the breast.

“No tongue, just open your mouth.”

I felt Natalie’s finger trace my lips with something that burned. It was tequila. I couldn’t think which category this fell into and again she put her breast in my mouth, but this time her nipple was rimmed with salt.

“Suck it. Now stop sucking and press your lips tightly together.”

When I did, she kissed me and pried my mouth apart with her tongue. Tequila flowed into my mouth. I swallowed and she put her other salty breast in my mouth.

I was so stimulated and horny; I was in a mild state of shock. I forgot to identify the taste. I didn’t say anything. The slap on my breast brought me around.

“Salty!” I said. “Salty!”

The night continued like this for hours with a smorgasbord of ingredients from curry to maple syrup. I was exhausted from desire and needing to cum. I felt like I was about to lose my mind, but I stayed still and quiet and waited for her to tell me what to do.

“Now, I have a special surprise for you,” she said, checking the blindfold again.

I heard movement and felt her legs on either side of my body. She was moving up and I knew she was going to straddle my mouth.

“Stick out your tongue Phoebe as far as you can, really stretch it.”

I felt her warm oozing pussy cover my mouth and devour my tongue.

“I’ve put something for you inside me. If you’re able to dig it out, I’ve got an even bigger reward planned for you.”

I probed her hot pussy with my tongue. Her clit was engorged. I knew she was about to cum. I tried to stay focused on her hole and whatever object was hidden there, but was too tempted by her pulsating clit and began to lick her. She reached behind and whacked me harder than ever again on the breast. I resumed my search. I felt something smooth and gooey and firmly curled my tongue around it to draw it out. It was a chocolate covered cherry.

“Very good,” she said.

She kept me blindfolded and restrained and lifted my slip. My pussy was a river of anticipation. I came almost immediately when she put her mouth on me.

Lost in the memory and smiling, I dropped the card on the kitchen floor. My pussy was drenched just thinking about our sensual guessing game. I couldn’t wait to get to my computer so I could RSVP her.

“Dear Hot Sour Salty Sweet,” I wrote. “Some invitations should never be refused.”