Book of Vixen Vol. I

Vixen wakes to the soft summer breeze drifting in from the shores of Ocho Rios outside. The sheer curtains, billowing with the wind, dance gracefully between her and the sunrise. A beam of light creeps through the patio doors, making its way to the foot of the bed and then gently nudges Vixen’s eyes open. As she stirs, she catches a glimpse of the sunrise, just enough to make her long for a better view. It’s a rare occasion for her to rise early enough to witness such beauty, and it feels as though the breeze was inviting her closer. She gently slips out of bed, draping herself in the white robe that lay on the nearby chair, and makes her way to the balcony.

As she steps outside, she is welcomed by the soothing sounds of gentle waves and gulls soaring above. With the sun climbing higher, the rhythm of the waves grows more pronounced. Vixen basks in the sunlight, closing her eyes as her other senses come alive. The briny, refreshing scent of the sea reminds her of its boundless expanse. The wind whispers the tunes of a new day, with gulls adding their harmonious calls in the background. Without hesitation, she sheds her robe, letting the sun’s early light grace her flawlessly curved, sun-kissed skin, and leans onto the balcony railing. The breeze playfully dances along her back and through her hair, coaxing a gentle smile from her lips. As she opens her eyes, they catch the glow of the nearly risen sun, casting a golden hue across her skin.

It wasn’t long before a set of arms found their way around her waist. Vixen leans back into the embrace, feeling a soft cheek against hers. One hand finds its way up to her right breast, gently massaging it as Vixen moans begin to overpower the sounds over the horizon. Vixen tilts her head back, her lips met by a deep kiss that feels as though it stretched on forever. Another hand then gently turns her around until her eyes lock with Sophie’s. Sophie’s fingers glide up Vixen’s back until she gathers a handful of her natural tresses, gently tilting her head back and digging her tongue into Vixen’s neck. With her back against the railing, Vixen lifts her left leg, and Sophie’s fingers instinctively trace their way back down. Vixen lets out a sultry ‘fuuuuuuuuck” as Sophie’ fingers fill her soaking pussy. With her arms now wrapped around Sophie, Vixen is gently lifted off the ground, half her body leaning over the railing. Her hair continues to flow in the breeze. Sophie’s fingers slide in and out of her as their bodies move in unison. Sophie begins teasing Vixen with soft bites down her neck and across her chest. Their eyes find one another as Vixen’s lips begin to tremble. They’re gaze locked-in, Vixen let out sounds of satisfaction as Sophie's free arm grips her body to keep her from collapsing. As Vixen catches her breath, her glance is directed toward an awakened Edward, sitting upright in bed with the sheet covering half his body, a knowing smile on his face.

Vixen's eyes flutter shut as Sophie’s scent envelopes her. When she opens them again, she finds herself in front of a roaring fireplace, her silhouette casting a shadow on the wall as she surveys her surroundings. To her left lay an empty champagne glass adorned with her signature red lipstick, her lace panties and robe scattered on the floor, and her phone on the nightstand. The dreams are becoming more frequent, usually taking place in some sort of tropical setting. It was an experience she always dreamed of sharing with Sophie and Edward. The more she fantasizes about it, the more she wonders if her dreams are trying to tell her something.

Buzz! A text message snaps Vixen out of her thoughts. She reaches for it, but then pulls her hand back and ignores it.

Vixen seldom checks her phone when she’s with Will, and tonight is no different. He demands and holds her attention effortlessly, going out of his way to make sure he does. Whether it's driving down Pacific Coast Highway in the royal blue Corvette he rents just for her whenever he’s in town, letting her shop at his expense, taking her to her favorite seafood restaurant with a stunning view of the Los Angeles skyline, or surprising her with her favorite flowers or a scent he loves on her, Will makes her a priority every time he visits. Will, a younger, ambitious power forward drafted a few years ago, is fun, uncomplicated, and, most importantly, trustworthy. Among all her lovers, he is the one she trusts the most. He is Vixen's origin, playing a crucial role in her life and indirectly influencing both her sexual awakening and her signature white wig.

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One Halloween in North Hollywood, an invitation from Vixen’s best friend, Ebony, to a costume party hosted by her client resulted in a Storm costume that would leave any nerd in a puddle. Vixen rarely ventures out to crowded, overpriced parties where people seem allergic to dancing, but with the chance to finally embrace her long-desired Amazonian heroine look, she decides to go all out. Her body is adorned in black and gold spandex leotard with a cape that fell behind her and attached to her wristsr, inspired by her original look, complete with thigh-high black boots. She opts for a more loose-wave look reminiscent of the original comic book take on the character, complete with Storm’s signature crown. She is pleasantly surprised by how natural the wig looks on her, especially since it’s her first time wearing one.

Thanks to Ebony’s connections, she and Vixen bypass the long entry line, a much-appreciated perk given its length. Once inside, the venue is dimly lit, with only the glow of smartphone screens illuminating their path through the crowd. As they approach an area with blacklights, “Vixen’s” wig begins to glow with the lighting, making her an instant standout among the crowd. As they navigate the dance floor toward their reserved table, Vixen’s anxiety spikes. Once they arrive, she immediately orders “anything with tequila” to steady her nerves. The club scene isn’t her favorite, but recent events force her to accept one of Ebony’s countless invitations. When her drink arrives, the first sip makes her grimace in disgust, but she quickly swallows it in a single gulp.

An hour into the evening, Vixen is dancing alone at their table to every song that blasts from the speakers, not noticing a pair of eyes watching her nearby. Soon Vixen ventures onto the dance floor, gradually making her way to the center. By now, the table is out of sight, but it hardly matters. Lost in her own world, she moves to the music however she pleases. A passerby or two occasionally joins her or offers another drink. Some pose for selfies in their costumes. But she is careful to stay within her limits.

Busta Rhymes’ “I Know What You Want” comes next in the DJ’s lineup. Vixen slows down, looks around, and ponders her next move. Though tipsy, she is still able to stabilize herself enough to clumsily move about the crowd and locate Ebony near their table. As she stumbles slightly, a large hand suddenly finds its way around her waist, another softly grips her right hand. Any other time, Vixen would have thought to push off whoever would think to invade her in such a way, but at that moment, she is grateful for the assist.

“Take your time. We’re almost there”, Her mystery savior leans down and whispers into her ear, his beard slightly tickling her in the process.

As they weave through the crowd, Vixen looks up just enough to catch a glimpse of her companion in the darkness, and the subtle scent of cedarwood and citrus drifts past her nostrils. Her hand sits in his, and despite him being a stranger, Vixen feels safe for the moment. She spots Ebony in her peripheral sight, who wastes no time coming over and taking over from the mystery gentleman. Vixen can tell from Ebony’s expression as she looks upward that her savior is a sight to behold. Once she is safely seated on the couch in their section, her eyes lock with his as she gets a glimpse of the hazel-eyed stallion that stands over her. Ironically, he is dressed as Clark Kent pre-Superman transformation, the ‘S’ on his chest exposed just enough behind his white button-up and suspenders. Her eyes fall downward as his gaze catches hers firmly planted on his large bulge. "I see you're feeling better," he says, flashing a brilliant, perfect smile. Slightly embarrassed by her earlier lack of discretion, Vixen quickly stands up to thank him properly, making herself slightly dizzy in the process. "Thanks for your help," she says, pretending she has her balance under control. "It was my pleasure," he replies.

Flattered by his attention, Vixen feels butterflies for the first time in forever. It’s been a while since anyone made her feel good. He chose to help her rather than take advantage of the situation. Not wanting to further dampen his first impression of her, Vixen glances behind him at his friends, who are likely on their third bottle of alcohol. They are also the perfect excuse for her to make her escape while she could still stand. “It looks like your friends might need you. I don’t want to keep you from the party,” she says. “This is the party,” he replies, giving his best Chris Tucker dance impression. Vixen is amused, though still quite intoxicated.

“I think it’s best I head home before I get myself into trouble”, she says with a knowing glance. “Can I walk you out?”, he asks. Vixen agrees with a slight nod. After seeking out Ebony to inform her of Vixen’s impending departure and assure her she was okay going alone, the gentleman grabs her hand and leads her through the crowd toward the exit, Ebony keeping watch from afar.

Vixen calls her Uber, deliberately delaying the reservation to savor a few more moments with her new friend. Now that they could see each other clearly under the city lights, she notices his high-top fade dreadlocks pulled back to accentuate his Clark Kent glasses, and his broad frame highlighted by his snug white button-up shirt. They stand in silence for a moment before he says, “The white hair suits you. Not everyone can pull it off, but it really fits you.”

Vixen has never considered wearing a wig before that night. She feels transformed. She feels a different energy. She feels at her boldest. Without thinking about it, Vixen grabs the gentleman by the collar, pulls him toward her, and proceeds to intermingle her tongue with his until she can barely stand. His instincts drive him to pull her closer, filling his large hand with her spandex covered cheeks. She reaches her hand down toward his crotch, her index and middle fingers tracing the outline of his hard dick steadily growing under his black pants. She doesn’t notice her Uber arriving before she finds herself catching her breath. She has never been so forward with anyone, especially someone she has just met. Maybe a peck on the lips or an intimate hug here and there, but never like this. She feels comfortable enough to do so because he brings that energy out of her, and she isn’t ashamed of it.

Once they gather themselves, the gentleman opens the backseat door to the Uber SUV, and they give each other one final glance. He laughs before uttering, “The name is Will by the way. Hopefully, you’ll still remember me after tonight.” Vixen pulls out her phone, opens her Instagram app, hands it to him before responding, “We can certainly start with being able to find you.” She is wary about giving out her number so soon to any potential lover/partner, so she always starts with confirming a social media presence. Will hands her back her phone before leaning in for another passionate kiss, leaving his glasses fogged. He takes them off to wipe them clean, then asks her if she was busy the following night. “I am now”, she responds with one last smile. He closes her door and the SUV takes off down the street.

Vixen rests her head against the seat’s headrest, her gaze fixed on the crescent-shaped moon as the cityscape drifts by. Her thoughts wander to her kiss with Will, then to the past few weeks. She realizes she has been changing, a shift she had sensed for some time. She wishes she had acknowledged it sooner. It seems that only by transforming herself into someone else did she begin to uncover this part of her. Maybe the wig was her way of creating a barrier between her real life and her true desires. Though she didn’t completely grasp her emotions, she knew she wanted to keep exploring them.

Less than 10 minutes later, a notification for a direct message from Will pops up on her phone:

Drinks tomorrow?

Vixen giggles before she responds with a simple “Sure”.

You should wear the wig. If you’re up for it.

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Vixen often fondly thinks about that night. Will was the first to encourage her to explore her deeper desires. As she watches him sleep beside her, he eventually turns over and extends his arm to confirm she's still there. When he finds her, he gently strokes her, relieved that she hasn’t gone. He finds solace in her presence. Slowly opening his eyes, he reaches up to brush the wig from her face. Their faces soon devouring each other, Vixen proceeds to throw her leg over his chest, positioning herself on his face with only his nose and eyes exposed. Staring at him intensely, Vixen grabs a handful of his dreadlocks and orders “Make me cum on your face.” Will nods in agreement before thrusting his long, thick tongue deep into her pussy, his moans providing just enough vibration to stimulate her clit. Vixen moves her hips in a circular motion to ensure Will tastes every bit of her. Using both of his hands to grab her bare cheeks, Will pulls Vixen closer to his mouth and increases the speed on his tongue movement. Vixen’s body begins to tense up, she bites her lips and begins playing with her nipples. “Fuck! I’m going to come all over that face baby.” A loud slap of her ass and the other hand secured around her throat leaves Vixen shaking what was left of her fluids down Will’s jaw and onto his neck. Vixen sinks onto the bed, surrendering to Will’s embrace. Glancing at the clock, she opts to keep her eyes shut a bit longer before she leaves. Nestled against Will’s chest with the crackling fire warming her, Vixen closes her eyes and listens to the soothing sound of the waves once again.