Page 40 of The Brooklyn Way

Carrington turned up her pert nose in a sign of disgust. “Uhl, did I interrupt or something? What’s with the attitude?”

“Sorry.” Brooklyn chuckled lightly. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps badgering me to bring the dress over so you can see what needs to be done.”

“You brought your wedding gown?” Brooklyn’s excitement was evident.

Her happiness made my heart do some really weird shit in my chest that made me uncomfortable.

“Ay, I’mma go ’head and get out of here. You have a little more than an hour until sunset if you plan to come through and watch it.”

Brooklyn’s gaze was heated as her eyes rested on mine. “I do.”

Without thinking about the fact that Carrington was watching us like a hawk, I wrapped my arm around Brooklyn’s waist, pulling her to me. Then I kissed her lips, caressing the side of her face in the process. “See you in a minute.”

“See you.”

“Summer fling my ass,” I heard my sister mumble as I headed for the sliding glass door.

Later that evening on my deck, Brooklyn sat in my lap. Her back was against my chest with her legs straddling mine. I held one of her breasts in each of my hands as I lightly stroked her nipples. Every so often, I dropped kisses on different spots on her neck. She smelled so good. And more than that she felt so good. She felt so right.

“How are you gonna make my mother’s old wedding dress into Carrington’s dream dress? Do you have any ideas?”

It was getting closer to the golden hour. The sun was so low in the sky. It wouldn’t be long before it slipped below the horizon.

“I have tons of ideas. This island is my muse. All the creativity I couldn’t find before, I found it here.” She removed my right hand from her breast, lifted the hem of her dress, and placed my hand on her pussy, as she wasn’t wearing panties. “I want you to make me cum while the sun sets. Then tomorrow, it’ll be your turn.”

Brooklyn had a way with words. Some of the things she said shot straight to my dick. Some of things fucked with my head. I started slowly playing in her pussy. I rubbed my thumb lightly over her swollen bud.

“Your birthday is coming up.” Her words came out in a low moan. “Carrington says she’s throwing a barbecue at your house.”

“She is.”

The lubrication increased, causing my fingers to slip-slide around in her honeypot in the best possible way. I eased two fingers inside her. As she began to ride them, her words slipped away, replaced by hums, mewls, and whimpers.

She was faster than the sunset, coming vocally and with force as the sun continued to chill patiently over the water. Her essence was all over my hand. I brought it to my mouth and sucked the taste of her from my fingers. Before I could suck every finger, Brooklyn turned around to face me and straddled me again. Then she leaned in, capturing my mouth in a deep kiss.

While we were still kissing, she stood slightly and tugged at my shorts. I lifted my ass and pulled down the shorts, freeing my dick. The second she realized it had bounced out of my drawers, Brooklyn sat on it. She sunk down slowly until she was back in my lap and my dick was buried to the hilt inside her.

I loved fucking Brooklyn. There was something so primal about the way she was during sex. I’d fucked a lot of women. Some played games and pretended to be less experienced or more experienced than they actually were. Some were open to everything. Some were open to very little. Some were pliable. Some were aggressive. Brooklyn fucked like she was learning herself—like each sexual experience allowed her the opportunity to discover more about herself.

At the moment, she sat on my dick unmoving but kissing me hungrily.

She broke the kiss, giving me a sly grin. “Your dick curves perfectly, boo. I can feel you in my stomach. It’s so good.”

“What would be good is for you to bounce on that motherfucker.” She squeezed my shit, doing a pussy-tightening technique that I loved, but that caused my next words to come out through clenched teeth. “He loves to drown, but he likes friction, too. Give ’em some friction, Brooklyn.”

She bounced up and down on my shaft until she complained that her quad muscles burned. At that point, I bent her over the railing and beat it from the back until both of us caught up to the orgasm we were chasing.

7

Brooklyn

One thing I couldn’t do was complain about the state of my life. I was actually happy. Authentically happy—not the happy that people faked for social media. I spent my days surrounded by the positive energy that the community center provided and sewing to my heart’s content. I had created an entire wardrobe of bright colors and colorful prints for myself and pieces that were custom fit specifically to my body that flattered every curve and made me feel great.

When inspiration hit me, I worked on Carrington’s wedding gown. I added elements and took them away. I retooled and restyled. I felt confident that the final result would blow both Carrington’s and her mother’s minds.

With Big Red’s guidance and assurance, I had even managed to make myself a custom swimsuit to wear to Cameron and Carrington’s birthday barbecue. While I didn’t have any plans of getting in the pool, I did have plans of being cute and confident in myself. When Carrington saw my swimsuit, she begged me to make matching swimsuits for her and her brother. She thought it would be a cute throwback to when they were little and their mother used to dress them alike.

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