IRE Scoville Scale: Sinfully Satisfying

‘There isn’t nearly enough alcohol on the table right now.’

Aubrey gave her friends a bright smile even though she was feeling quite the opposite of happy. The five of them sat around a table in a bustling downtown bar and lounge. Though the expensive red tulle dress she wore showed off her spa exfoliated brown skin, the stares that she was getting from men in the club were annoying her. It had only been one year since her divorce from a record producer husband, but as a recently turned thirty year old woman, she was feeling much older from the breakup.  

“Another vodka please,” Aubrey said to a good-looking waiter as he passed.

“This one is on the house, beautiful.”  The Hispanic man winked at her, slipping a card with his name and number under her drink before putting it down on their table.

She watched as three sets of mouths dropped open in shock. Her friends almost keeled over from their shrieks.

“A younger man? Well, go for it girl!”

“Darling, are you sure you can keep up with him? If I wasn’t married, I would give you a run for your money.”

All of them laughed and talked about how lucky she was to be single. Aubrey joked along with them but still knew that if they were in the same position then they would be saying something completely different.

The night before their third anniversary, she had found her husband with one of his artist’s groupies in the studio together. Elliot lay on the floor as the much younger and very naked Latina woman had her mouth wrapped around his cock, pumping up and down. Aubrey’s eyes met Elliot’s seconds after the fact. Though he knew he had been caught, he had pleaded with her with the same light brown eyes that had made her fall in love with the Italian born Spaniard. The look had almost brought her to her knees beside the woman. But that reality belonged in the strong, monogamous relationship she thought that they had.

Even then after he had been caught, Elliot hadn’t stopped the woman. Aubrey just watched in silent horror as she brought her head up and down the cock that use to belong to her. Every sound in the studio room amplified, making sure that she wouldn’t be able to forgive him for cheating.

Not with their failed marriage climaxing into another woman’s mouth right in front of her.

After that final thought, she ran out of the room and called her lawyer. By the morning Elliot had woken up to an empty bed and divorce papers for breakfast.

But that was in the past. There was nothing else that would stop Aubrey from being able to live her life the way that she wanted to… she just needed to figure which way she wanted to live her life.

“Brey, what are you thinking about sweetie?”

A voice brought her back to the present. Her friends stared at her: two Chinese women, one Italian woman, and one Indian woman. All of them turned to her with their glasses raised.

“What? Oh nothing.”

The closest one of all of her friends, Sarah Chu, smiled over at her with her grey circle lens contacts in place.

“Now you’re the first for something, darling. Through boyfriends and first kisses, you’re finally kicking our asses, Miss Divorcee.”

“So says the forever young Chinese woman with a matchmaker for a mother,” Aubrey said with a cheeky smile.

“Friend discounts are always open for you if you want to go Asian, honey. The small penis myth…? Is just a myth! If you want to something that goes into your pussy but that you can feel in the back of your neck, then I have a few guys that I can set you up with.”

Aubrey almost spilled her glass of vodka onto herself as she laughed.

“Just tell me when you're ready, love. We toast tonight to our individual relationships but also to the relationship with each other—the most important and longest one that we all have ever maintained,” Sarah ended.

Aubrey clicked her glass against her friend’s, fake smile never leaving her face though she tried her best to make it real. Yes, she had finally beaten her friends to something when it comes to relationships. The immature teenager, who confessed to them over too much beer that she felt like she was being left behind, was finally in front. But it wasn’t a victory she wanted to celebrate. Though there had been bumps, she had been content in her marriage, but Elliot just had to push her to front of the finish line.  

“Another shot of vodka on me for the Miss Divorcee, and another toast to divorcing an asshole and taking a good chunk of his money, and one final one to being single again… I know I wouldn’t be able to handle the shock.”

Best friends, like mothers, know what to say at every moment. Everything you need to hear and everything you’d couldn’t be paid money to say yourself.

Aubrey let her glass click against her friend’s, letting out another smile. Not caring if it was still faked. It functioned well at that moment.

Not only does the criminal return to the scene of the crime, but also the victim. Or at least Aubrey did. She found herself telling the taxi driver to drive over to her ex-husband’s forest located production studio after being back in her empty downtown condo for less than an hour. Elliot had bought the place saying that the scenery invoked his creative side. But now she knew that it was just because it took almost two hundred dollars in taxi fare to get from their house to downtown. He would have all the time in the world to create excuses to tell her for why he spent so much time there.

The studio was the only thing that Elliot had protected in their divorce settlement. She had let him have it but still wondered what was so good about the place from time to time afterward. She wondered again after getting a little bit tipsy with her happily married girlfriends.  

Once she had gotten home, off came her red party dress and on came her favorite light Japanese robe on top of the sheer white chemise she had brought for the night of her third anniversary. It was the same day that her lawyers had sent back the divorce papers signed by her now ex-husband. Both her robe and her body swayed in the wind as she walked over to the production studio instead of the two-story brick main house. She was drunk enough to go to wander off to the studio on her own two feet but not drunk enough to look for another X rated film from her ex-husband. Hopefully, only the victim wanted to be at the scene of the crime tonight.

There was still a key underneath the mat at the back door of the studio. The wooden house looked like a medium sized cabin but inside was a modern decorated soundproof music room where Elliot worked to create hits. Opening the door, she heard familiar sounds. Transfixed, she moved slowly into towards the door, her heart was beating harshly in against her chest but she couldn’t help her curiosity. Even during the last months of her marriage, he had been too busy for sex with her. Aubrey was left to knowledge of her body and sex toys to bring herself to climax. But even though she knew her body more than Elliot had ever did, nothing could beat the feel of a thick cock inside of her pussy. Though she had cried over the fact that he would only ever be with other women, she was still curious to see how he touched these women. If it was the same way she had taught him…

She took in a deep breath and opened the door to the studio all the way.

But the room was empty.

The sounds were coming from all of the machines, putting the moans and gasps on the speakers at full blast. Listening to the heavy breathing, she remembered how it felt to have someone ramping into her at full force, into her pussy forwards and then into her backwards. She remembered all of the sounds and panting made each time someone went down on her. Recollections of pleasure came over her as she listened to the recorded women. Aubrey went further inside the studio, through the doors to inside the soundproof recording room.

She felt hot as her body dropped to the floor where she had seen her ex-husband and the other woman. But somehow that nightmare seemed to belong to someone else as she lost herself amongst the voices. Her hands undid her robe before going over into her underwear. She let out a soft gasp. Her ex-husband hasn’t liked her noisy in bed but during her early twenties she had been a screamer. Her index finger flicked at her clit, making her emit a louder moan this time. She was on her knees in moments, working her pussy down onto the fingers of her one hand while she massaged her clit with another. She was moaning louder now as the material of her chemise brushed against her dark peaking nipples.

As she pumped harder, she could hardly hear the recordings over the sound of her own screams of bliss as she got nearer and nearer to her climax.

“Are you ever going to remember to turn things off in the studio?”

Japanese/Korean Musician duo Arigatō Ae-in Thank you Sweetheart, had been back together as a band for only one month before their musical producer went to the tropics for a vacation away from them. Trying to work the machine without a producer wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was in remembering how to get along.

 “Did you hear me?”

James Nara swore under his breath in Japanese at the younger Korean man. At twenty six years old, only two years younger than him, Hoyt Lee was still the impulsive little brat who suggested that both of them split up and go their separate ways to conquer their individual countries after a little success in the 90s in America. Then one day while he was sitting in his home in Tokyo, the boy he left behind at eighteen appeared in front of him, asking him to board a plane to America to work with a new music producer. James had agreed since he had heard about Elliot Wade’s success with Asian artists. However, after meeting the man, he had discovered that though he was indeed successful, Elliot was still a scumbag that kept contracts with his artists as good as he kept his marriage. 

The only bright side was that they would have million dollars worth of music production machines to themselves. But even that would be gone if Hoyt kept leaving every machine on every time they left the studio. No matter how much James nagged him to remember to turn things off after leaving the recording room, Hoyt still kept everything on. Sometimes even the recording button.    

“Hyung, you know that I hate turning them on and off. We can finish the CD faster my way.”

James scoffed at Hoyt’s use of ‘Hyung,’ the Korean word for older brother, a title of politeness used towards him. Though Hoyt’s formal speech had annoyed him, the thought of him reverting back to the childish James-chan, a name which Hoyt had used with him as teens, made him want to puke out his Thai noodles.

“Fine, if you’re done eating then let’s goes finish that CD,” James offered.

Hoyt picked up both of their leftovers and garbage to throw out.

“You only listen to me well when I talk about going to the studio but after we finish recording, your hearing leaves you.”

“It’s because I work so hard in there, Hyung. I have no hearing left afterwards.”

Hoyt wrapped an arm around James shoulders as they went through the connected garage to the studio.

“Ah, move away it’s hot,” James said as he pushed him away.

Both of them were the recording staple of V-neck sweaters and jogging pants since they were comfortable to sing in, though sometimes it got so warm that they revealed clothing until there were only in their underwear. It was lucky that there was no one else was around since it would be hard to explain why both of them were undressed together.

Getting closer to the studio, both of them stopped in their tracks.

“Hyung, can you hear something? Listen… there are sounds coming from the studio…” Hoyt whispered.

James almost burst out into laughter. “Obviously there are sounds. You left the whole studio on.”

He laughed at the other man’s worried expression but could admit that the women’s recordings for the background track sounded a little different than before. It sounded somehow better.

“What do you do all of that Karate for if you get scared? What are those muscles you work on so much for?” James teased.

“You have muscles too, Hyung. Cover my back.”

Both of them went through the studio door, one more confident than the other. But they were both caught unaware when the image of a woman appeared on the studio’s LCD screen monitor. The main machinery was outside the studio but the recording room was only seen through the LCD screen like a one-way room. The small monitor inside the recording room, which let a person see everything inside the main studio, was the only thing that Hoyt ever remembered to turn off.   

So as the woman pumped her fingers into her pussy, both James and Hoyt had the best view, without her knowing.

“We should tell her—”  

Hoyt put his hand on his lips to signal for James to be quiet as he moved to the recording station and sat down. He checked if the record button was on… it was. From the last time that he had turned it off until now, he guessed that there would be twenty minutes of editing unless the woman had been at it for longer than that. The latest song that they had been working on was suppose to have a wicked breathing background track but their producer didn’t leave them anything hot enough. Now there was their track being recorded.

Both of them watched as the woman continued. She looked petite in height but big in all the places that counted. Both set of eyes devoured her soft looking brown body as her hips moved up and down.

“Oh yes… oh my god. Oh yes, almost, almost. Oh I’m almost there. I wanna cum so bad. Oh, oh, oh yes! Ah, yes, oh yes!”

The rest of her words she screamed in an almost deafening tone in the studio. But they did just as the song needed it to do. Though both Hoyt and James avoided each other’s eye because of each of their growing arousal from watching the woman get herself off so unabashed, both of them realized that she just made their song a hit with her recording.

James looked up and away as she dressed herself. The same couldn’t be said for Hoyt who took in each image of her thick thighs, hips, breasts, like he was eating chocolate after years of starvation. His eyes caught an old hung picture on the opposite wall. It was of the mayor, their musical producer, and his ex-wife. Overhearing a short conversation between the producer and Hoyt he had discovered that it was the only picture of his marriage that he couldn’t bear to throw away or put down since the much beloved mayor had died a year afterwards.

But as he looked back from the picture to the screen to the picture again, he swore under his breath.

“Hoyt, she’s the producers—”

The woman let out a scream as she opened the door to the recording room seeing the two men in front of her.

“We’re so sorry.”

James put out his hands in front of himself to show that he meant no harm but she kept looking at them like they were going to attack.

“We didn’t mean to walk in on you—”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to walk in on you but if I knew that you were going to be in the studio doing things like that to yourself I would have rushed here sooner. And alone.”

“Hoyt, where are your manners?! She’s the producer’s—”

“Best bet on making us famous with pipes like hers.” Hoyt got up from his seat and walked towards the woman, all six feet of him coming closer to her warmed up body. “I wasn’t planning on having desert but there’s certainly always room for chocolate.” 

“I am so sorry Mrs. Wade. I mean, Mrs. Ex-Wade. No, no I mean—”

At the mention of her former name, James watched as something passed over her face, making the brown skin hardened. In the next moment she had turned from scared rabbit to hunting fox in body language. As she shifted her hands to her hips instead of in front of her body, both men took in the sight of her exposed breasts again. Instead of warning them to look away, her eyes dared them to look nearer. 

 “I’m Aubrey Branson now,” she said, throwing a light smile at James. Looking back at Hoyt and then back at James again, she smiled wider. “And for desert I want something that goes into my pussy but that I can feel in the back of my neck.”

James watched with both shock and amusement as the woman pulled at Hoyt’s jogging pants, taking a peek and an approving nod. Then he watched as she walked away from the younger man and came up to him, doing another cock check. He felt himself hardening even further.

“It seems like you two are ready for some chocolate dessert.”