Zane's Everything Fades Away

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  CONTENTS

  EVERYTHING FADES AWAY

  CHAPTER 1: AMANDA

  CHAPTER 2: GIDEON

  CHAPTER 3: AMANDA

  CHAPTER 4: GIDEON

  CHAPTER 5: AMANDA

  CHAPTER 6: GIDEON

  I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS LINK

  ZANE eBOOK SAMPLER LINK

  ABOUT ZANE

  ABOUT ATRIA BOOKS

  ASK ATRIA

  Lust is the benefit of self at the expense of others.

  Love is the benefit of others at the expense of self.

  Everything Fades Away

  The first lick lasted the longest. It sent shivers up my spine, throughout my bloodstream, across my chest, and back down my stomach to the nucleus of my pussy. It had been so long since a man had laid such strong yet gentle hands on my body. Too damn long. My nightly routine of masturbating myself into a climactic frenzy was no longer enough. Then again, it was never enough, nor would it ever be enough.

  The fucked-up part was that I didn’t care. I didn’t care that I was married. I didn’t care that we were risking exposure—possibly even arrest—in a public place. I didn’t even care that I had failed to inquire about his name—first or last—or had neglected to break out a condom.

  Hell, I didn’t have a condom. I was a married woman whose better half was deployed to Afghanistan, fighting daily in the trenches to protect all of us back on American soil, including myself, especially myself, the one who had always possessed the key to his heart.

  I had breath mints, a hairbrush, and a jump drive with my uncompleted work from the office on it, but no condoms. Faithful married women don’t need to tote them around. Up until that very moment, I had never even conceived an act of fucking someone other than my husband. I had converged on the mall that night for a hundred-dollar laptop from Best Buy and ended up with an elephantine dick embedded inside of me.

  A fleeting thought passed through my mind as he continued to plant kisses up and down my bare back: Momma would be so ashamed of her baby girl. Then something indescribable overwhelmed me as I turned around, freed his billy, dropped to my knees, spit shined it and then swallowed him whole, flinging all of my morals, wedding vows, and inhibitions into the wind.

  My first suck lasted the longest. I practically impaled my throat with his dick. I inhaled him so deep that if his organ had been a bullet, it would have passed clean through my skull into the encased glass behind me. As I glanced up into his beautiful brown eyes and his handsome face with an expression of immense pleasure on it, I realized that I was about to leap into an abyss of desire that would be damn near impossible for either one of us to control.

  I did not know him but I had been patiently waiting for his arrival. I had never been able to comprehend what shape or form he would appear in, but I heard him when he drove up into my wet, very wet, dick-deprived life. It’s about damn time, I thought as I felt his piping hot jism begin to drizzle, in turn transforming my pussy into an inferno hotter than the flames of hell.

  LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER

  AMANDA

  The mall was nothing short of a madhouse. The parking lots and garages were overflowing with cars. People were all in a panic, speed walking across the pavement, trying to line up to get in at midnight. Well, not exactly lining up; more like piling up. I don’t know what possessed me to even leave the comfort of my warm home to voluntarily get caught up in such foolishness. That’s a lie; I know exactly what motivated me. The hundred-dollar laptops at Best Buy.

  Like most people, I needed a new laptop as much as I needed a hole in the head. I had three desktops in my home, a corporate laptop that I docked in my office and transported home as needed, and a Mac laptop that I used for personal use. The last thing that I needed was the company IT department clocking my Internet activity.

  I confess: I was a serious Facebook addict. If I wasn’t logged on until at least midnight—even though my alarm blasted off at six a.m.—I felt like I was missing something crucial to my survival on the planet. I realize how crazy that was now. Living my life vicariously through the comings and goings, the rantings and ravings, the hyberbole and bullshit of complete strangers. Sure, I actually knew about five percent of the people on my friends list from either work, college, or from way back in the day, but I wouldn’t have recognized the other ninety-five percent if they fell out the sky and landed slap on top of me.

  I guess that’s why I was really out at the mall, waiting for the stampede to begin for the Black Friday sale. If I was at home, I would have been on Facebook looking at some chick’s new hairdo, photos of various dinner spreads that women I did not know had prepared for their families that day, various inspirational quotes that had hundreds of shares, or reading some erotic poetry some muscle-laden sex god had posted. The inspirational quotes were my favorite. They would get me hyped up, empower me, and convince me that the sky was the limit . . . until I turned the computer off and forgot all about them when my reality slapped me in the face.

  I had spent Thanksgiving with my parents, and by nine o’clock they were ready to “retire for the evening.” It’s funny how generations talk completely different. In the fifties, everything was “neat-o” or “peachy-keen.” In the sixties, things were “groovy,” people were “making love, not war,” and marijuana had everyone “puff, puff passing.” In the seventies, everyone wanted to know if you “could dig it,” they would “catch each other on the flip side,” cool people were “feeling the funk,” and women with banging bodies were “brick houses.” In the eighties, Nike had convinced everyone to “just do it,” Mr. T was saying “I pity the fool,” the old lady in the LifeCall infomercial bellowed, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” and Scarface mesmerized the world by stating, “Say hello to my little friend.” In the nineties, “bamas” were in full effect, people were “getting jiggy with it” in clubs, and the last thing anyone needed was someone to “freak out” on them.

  Those were the thoughts going through my head as I stood there among the masses, waiting for the midnight hour to come to pass. I spotted one chick with a steaming cup of Starbucks in each hand. I was sure Starbucks was making a killing on Thanksgiving from those determined to stay awake to go on shopping sprees. She had on a red sweater with a Christmas tree on the front and a reindeer on the back. Damn, she was a little bit early for all of that. She clearly had the jitters and was eyeing people like she dared them to attempt to jump in front of her. She certainly didn’t need a millimeter more of caffeine, and I was hoping she didn’t plan to fling that coffee in anyone’s face who tried her. I decided to stay the hell away from her spot.

  I looked to my left and a group of flamboyant trannies, all dressed in sexy-ass outfits and stilettos like they had either just left a club or were planning on hitting a few up later that night. A lot of the others were gawking at them, but I had a tinge of jealousy for a plethora of reasons. They were unmistakably designer label whores, but if they could afford it, that was their business. Their makeup was flawless. They seemed happy as shit, like they were enjoying their lives. Please, if anything, I was tempted to go ask them if I could roll with them.

  One of my best friends in college was a drag queen who called himself “Angel.” He was anything but, and he was the one who taught me how to do my makeup and hair, not my mother. Momma was the reason I showed up at Morgan State looking all homely. No
w, a decade after college graduation, I was teetering someplace between wanting to look hot and just doing enough to get by. I had my reasons. My husband, Ralph, was deployed to Afghanistan, and whenever he was away, I never felt like myself. I was the complete opposite of most women who made sure that they looked flawless, sexy, and overall appealing when they left the house, but rarely did the same when they got into bed with their husbands. They did all of that when they were dating, but once their men put a ring on it, their bedroom attire went from bra and panty sets and teddies to long cotton nightgowns and head wraps. Not me. I loved to put my best sensual face forward for the hubby but did not care what other men envisioned when they saw me.

  So, with Ralph being across the ocean, I was comfortable in sweats and T-shirts when I was not working. Yet, I had these fleeting moments when I felt like I should do better, especially when I found myself standing beside a group of glamorous trannies outside my local Best Buy in the middle of the night.

  Ralph and I spoke as often as possible, mostly via Skype. Whoever invented that is a genius. We would have face-to-face phone sex and I would play with my pussy for him with my cloned mold of his dick that I made from a $59.99 dildo kit before he deployed the last time. It was not the same thing as having him inside of me, but it helped. I was a very sexual person, but I realized going into the marriage that he was career military. So we did the best that we could, and he was expected back home on leave for New Year’s so I was hanging in there.

  Thinking about Ralph was making me stupid horny, so I started moving my weight from leg to leg, putting some friction on my clit. Too bad I did not have on my butterfly to vibrate down there and relieve some tension. I wore it to work quite often under my business suits, but since I was visiting my parents for dinner, I did not deem it appropriate to have a sex toy strapped to my thighs while Daddy prayed over the food.

  If they don’t open these doors soon, I’m going to have to go home and take care of my pussy, I thought to myself as I glanced at my watch.

  The highly anticipated moment finally arrived. It was midnight and people were beside themselves to be among the first in the doors. What happened next was the craziest shit that I had personally ever seen. Some man appeared out of nowhere and tried to ram his way through the crowd like a quarterback for the Redskins. The other people were not having it. It was complete chaos.

  One of the trannies tackled him, but then someone else hit one of the other trannies and it was on and popping. The jittery broad with the coffee threw the rest of her steaming java into the face of a teenage girl who, in turn, slapped her.

  While several fights broke out, the rest of the people started rushing the doors until the glass shattered. That was it for me. One thing that I realized for sure was that there was not a laptop in the world worth dying for. I tried to make a mad dash for my car but I could not get through the crowd. Next thing I knew, I was being pushed backward until I fell on my ass.

  Oh my God! They’re going to trample me to death! rushed through my head. I tried to maneuver myself up from the ground and keep my head protected with my arms at the same time. I felt someone kick me in my ribs, and I screamed out in agony.

  Then I felt some hands pulling me up off the ground: strong hands. I looked up into his face. He had this exotic look about him, like he was Arab or Egyptian or something. I did not care. I realized he was my knight in shining armor and that’s all that mattered as I allowed him to assist me up from the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he asked in a deep, baritone voice that reeked of sexuality.

  I nodded, and before I could verbalize a response, he was pulling me by the hand through the crowd toward the nearest stairwell. I was holding my side with the bruised rib cage and practically limping.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’ll be safe up here.”

  Now normally, I would not allow a complete stranger to guide me away from public sight, but this was different. There was nothing but pure fuckery outside and he seemed harmless. He smelled like heaven.

  We ascended the stairs and ended up in the skywalk overlooking the parking lot. Things had escalated into a bona fide riot and we could see flashing lights from approaching police cars. The mall had security, but they were of absolutely no use. In fact, I spotted one mall guard being tossed around in the crowd until he was thrown right on top of my car!

  “Shit!” I exclaimed. “That’s my car!”

  My savior looked down and pointed. “The red Jag?”

  “He just broke my windshield!”

  “I don’t think it was intentional.”

  I tried to stifle a laugh. It really wasn’t funny . . . not at all.

  My heart felt like it was about to explode in my chest. I had never seen such a thing, but I was glad to be safe. Blood was splattering everywhere and people were being trampled.

  The police arrived and started trying to drive through the crowd. The officers finally had to abandon their vehicles. That was when I spotted a SWAT van about a quarter-mile away. This was getting serious.

  “This is crazy!” he said. “I should’ve kept my ass at home.”

  “Where are you parked?” I asked him. “Maybe you can give me a ride.”

  I gazed up into his dark eyes and saw nothing but lust. I was sure he saw the same thing in mine.

  “You’re right. This is crazy,” I said, repeating his words, but I was not referring to the action below us. I do not know what made me blurt out what came next but the words definitely exited my throat. “My pussy’s wet.”

  He grinned. I exhaled. He reached up underneath my dress and ripped my panties clear off my ass.

  I did not even consider trying to stop him as he knelt down on one knee and gave my pussy one long, amazing stroke of his tongue. Like I said earlier, the first lick definitely lasted the longest. Then he went in on my pussy like a starving beast. One of his hands grabbed my ass to bring my pussy harder onto his mouth while the other reached up and groped my breasts. I lifted my sweater and pulled my tits out my bra, one at a time, as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I came just that quick.

  I played with one of my nipples and used my other hand to rub the top of my pussy while he ate me out. I could hear someone scream from down below and tried to crane my neck to see what was going on. Then I heard the tear gas cans scatter and explode across the pavement, around the same time that I squirted like a bottle of water with a squeeze cap.

  “Damn, this pussy,” he whispered. “So fucking good. So fucking good.”

  “I want to taste you,” I whispered back. “I want to suck you off real good.”

  He damn near lifted me off my feet as he devoured my pussy for about another minute and then came up for air with my juices all over his face. I couldn’t wait ten seconds before I was down on my knees trying to suck his brains out through his dick.

  He was too big for my mouth, a good thing, so I made an O with my hand and moved it in tandem with my mouth. I played with his balls with my other hand and gazed up into his eyes. Damn, those eyes!

  I kept sucking, and sucking, and sucking. Then I released him from my mouth and used the underside of my tongue to tease the part of his dick directly under the head. I drove Ralph crazy whenever I did that.

  I decided to go for broke and really turn his ass out, even though I did not even know him. I was already in love with his dick. I sucked him nice and slow five times, and then sucked him fast three times, then slow again like I was about to gag, then fast again. They always talk about muscle confusion on all those exercise programs on infomercials. That shit works for dicks as well: the greatest piece of muscle of all.

  He started moaning and running his fingers through my shoulder-length hair. I suddenly stopped sucking and nibbled lightly on his dick like it was corn on the cob.

  “Damn,” he whispered.

  I lifted his dick and started licking his scrotum from side to side and savored it like it was a gift from the gods. I could feel pre-cum trickling down his dick ont
o my hands. It was time to get the dick before he exploded.

  I stood up and gazed at him. Both of us were experiencing such an adrenaline rush that we were trembling. We both glanced down below. People were being cuffed and placed into paddy wagons right and left. The fire department was there, and more than two dozen police cars.

  “Fuck me like I stole something!” I exclaimed.

  “This is crazy,” he said again.

  “You keep saying that. Life is crazy. We might as well enjoy it.” I turned to face the glass and placed my palms on the glass, spreading my legs and clapping my ass like a stripper. “Don’t you want me?”

  He grabbed me around the waist and started darting his tongue in and out of my ear. I could smell my pussy juice on his warm breath. “Hell yes, I want you.”

  “Prove it.” My ribs were a little sore, but I did not give a fuck. I was sure his dick would cure all my pain. “Take all this pussy.”

  He bent his knees a little and pushed his dick all up in my sugary walls to the hilt. I exhaled again. Heaven in a nine-inch package.

  The steam from our bodies started fogging up the glass as he took me from behind in slow, long strokes. He grunted each time he hit the bottom of my pussy and I moaned out all kinds of obscenities.

  To bring us to an equal height, I stepped up onto the steel foot railing, praying that I did not fall through the glass to my death below. Shit, it might have even been worth it, the dick was so amazing.

  I saw one of the trannies being placed in the back of a paddy wagon in cuffs. He looked up at me and directly into my eyes, then grinned.

  “They can see us,” I said to no one in particular. My lover behind me was not listening. He was too busy making sure I would have to limp out of there.

  “Umm, you like this?” he asked, taking one of his hands and slapping me hard on the ass, definitely leaving a handprint. “Tell me you like this dick.”