Keeping Busy

by Tracy Gray

  “Lift up.” He instructed.

  I lifted my hips, and he pulled them and my panties off of my body, throwing them to the floor. I’d barely registered the sensation of cool air hitting my bare vagina before my legs were pried open and Busy was tongue kissing my clit. My eyes immediately rolled to the back of my head at the sheer intensity of the pleasure he was creating in my core. Only one thought ran through my mind as I fought not to levitate off the bed, “Damn, his mouth is juicy.”

  I liked to have control of myself at all times, but my body wasn’t waiting for instructions, it was doing its own thing. My hands made their way to Busy’s head and tangled themselves in the kinks located there. My hips bucked off the bed and thrust my vagina further into his mouth. He responded in kind - by licking, sucking, biting and teasing me more thoroughly.

  My toes curled into the plush mattress, as I acquiesced to the waves of bliss. My body hummed under the command of Busy’s attention and my mouth followed suit, moaning and whimpering in delight. I felt like I was going to pass out, or like I was strapped to electrodes that were programmed to send shocks throughout my body at various levels of intensity in mind-numbing increments. Just when I was sure that I was about to lose consciousness, a surge of euphoria washed over me with a ferociousness I had never experienced. The moans felt like they started in my calves and tore from my throat so loudly that I felt like they shook the bedroom walls.

  “You cool?” He climbed up my body and whispered in my ear.

  “Sshhhh.” I said, grinning as I placed a finger over my lips. “Let me float right here for a second.”

  “No problem.” He agreed, matching my grin.”I take it that you’re enjoying having your life ruined. There’s more where that came from.”

  “Word?” I asked, the grin never leaving my face.

  “Yep. Told you I’m dedicated to keeping the “secret smiles” coming.”

  I watched from my vantage point on the bed as he took what looked like a three-pack of condoms from the pocket of his shorts, before divesting himself of them.

  Busy’s body was perfection. His broad shoulders gave way to a huge, muscular, almost granite-like chest. His torso tapered to cut, well-defined abs and a tight waistline. His thighs were thick and powerful, and his calves were capable and strong. But his dick...it was pretty. Chocolate, and hefty, and long, and fat. I could not stop staring at it, with one thought running through my mind as I eyed it. For all its mass, and girth, it looked...friendly. It looked like the type of dick that could be my life-long friend. My bestie, even.

  “I need you naked, Pudding.” He said, making eye contact with me.

  Without my brain’s consent, or even its participation in the decision, my body stood up from the bed, made its way over to Busy and dropped to its knees in front of him. I didn’t really “come back to myself” until his dick was firmly secured in my mouth, destroying the back of my throat. I typically didn’t give head-bangers. I’d given that up years prior, when I decided that if a dude wasn’t pressed enough to give me his best and work to make me cum, he wouldn’t get my best, either. So, I hung up my mouth-game.

  Apparently though, it was much like riding a bike, because my mouth knew what to do. It was juicy as hell, slathering wetness along Busy’s shaft, while I sucked with a jaw force that I didn’t even realize that I had. My hands alternated between caressing his balls and sliding over the length of him, while I hummed contentedly. I glanced up at him only to catch him staring down at me. Our eyes locked. He dug his fingers into the messy bun that I’d assembled on top of my head before my shower, and pulled my head towards his pelvis as he moved his hips. Even as my eyes watered and I fought not to gag, I sucked harder, squeezed his balls more firmly, and pumped his dick more vigorously.

  “Fuck, Pudding.” He groaned, as he broke eye contact because his eyes were rolling back in his head.

  I couldn’t grin, because my mouth was full of him, but I was proud as hell of myself. While I was preoccupied with celebrating my own skill-set, Busy pulled his dick from my mouth with a plop.

  “Get on the bed.” There was no mistaking the level of bass in his voice when he spoke to me. He was ready to have me.

  While he was protecting us, I pulled off my shirt, wiggled out of my bra more quickly than I ever had before and got in the bed on my back. Busy spread my thighs and was inside of me before I could even think. All I could do was offer up a sigh of contentment. I cradled him in my arms, as he plowed into me, slowly, deep-stroking me. I felt every inch of him in my chest, but he spaced the thrusts out enough for me to float in pleasure for a few seconds before the next mind-blowing stroke arrived.

  Busy bit down on my shoulder as he pounded his pelvis into mine, the firm mattress providing resistance to the invasion. I lifted my hips and met every crash with a crash of my own, vocalizing my pleasure and digging my fingernails into the skin on his back. I tried to make thoughts as Busy and I connected, but my mind would only remind me of the sensations I was feeling. Tingles were happening in so many places; in my scalp, in my breasts, in my vagina. I couldn’t even concentrate on every place that Busy had me feeling good. All I could do was moan his name, and throw the ass at him like he’d earned it, because of course, he did.

  He brought his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue easily finding mine and rubbing against it with passion. I could not get enough of him. I pushed my head up from the pillow to deepen the kiss, although I was sure there was no way to do that, because he was already kissing me like it was our last moment on earth. When we broke the kiss, he moved his mouth to my ear.

  “What the hell are you doing to me, Mecca? You got me bugging on a whole ‘nother level.”

  “Right back at you.” I said, or thought I said. Honestly, I could’ve just thought it in my mind. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything, except that Busy was everything, and all I wanted was for the feelings he was creating to last forever. He was pulling my hair as he slammed into me, and I was practically hyperventilating from the sensations. I could feel the orgasm starting to build, and realized that I’d never been in this moment, experiencing pleasure so intense. It was my favorite moment. My favorite place on earth. Underneath Busy while he put in work.

  Busy moved his hands under my ass, allowing himself to delve even deeper. Opening me up for him to experience unchartered territory and realms of Mecca that no one knew even existed. There was no way to keep myself from yelling out. From screaming out. From pushing my hips up towards him.

  “I’m about to cum.” I said through no volition of my own. I had never announced anything like that in my entire life.

  “Good, Baby. Me, too.”

  And with that, he seemed to kick into overdrive. Within seconds the little thunderstorm that had started to build in my stomach turned into a full scale tornado and I was flying over the edge of self-control, experiencing the hardest orgasm ever and screaming at the top of my lungs about it. I was so out of it, I didn’t even know what happened after I came. I glanced over and saw Busy lying right beside me with the cutest smile on his face.

  “I think I passed out.” I said, my eyes were heavy as hell, and I swear my body felt like jello, like there wasn’t a bone or a muscle anywhere in there.

  “What makes you think you passed out?”

  “I don’t remember anything that happened after I came.” Frowning, I racked my brain for memories. “Did you come?”

  “Fa’sho.”

  I was quiet for a few minutes. “Busy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’mma need you to run that back...see if you can make it happen again.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You serious?”

  “Uh yeah.” I said, making my eyes big and nodding my head. “Did you miss the part where I said that the loving was so good that it made me pass out? I definitely need that again.”

  He watched me, finally deciding that I actually was serious. He rolled on top of me, and easily slid inside with very
little effort. “Greedy ass.” He muttered, stroking me deeply.

  The sensation snatched my breath and made me moan involuntarily. Before I completely succumbed to the pleasure, I was able to voice one logical piece of important information.

  “Condom, Busy.” I groaned, as he thrusted into me.

  “In a second.” He said, lifting my thighs over his forearms and pushing my legs back so that much more of me was exposed to him.

  He slammed into me like he was the quarterback, and I was his favorite receiver, because I caught every single pass. The first time we had sex was slow and sexy, this time the sex was fast and hard. The bed quaked underneath us as Busy pumped me with ferocity. I could barely catch my breath, let alone find the ability to match his tempo, because all I could think about was the pleasure in my core.

  After I didn’t know how many minutes of intense pleasure (because this time, I was positive that I was floating in and out of consciousness), I came shuddering uncontrollably, and yelling incoherent things loudly. As I allowed my head to fall back on the pillow, Busy pulled out of me and released his load on my stomach. He crashed down next to me, his breathing audible.

  If I wasn’t positive before, now I knew for sure that whoever I was messing with before Busy came into the picture didn’t deserve me. I nodded off before I could even wipe him off of my stomach.

  Busy took my hand and helped me from the truck when we arrived at the barbecue which was located at a mansion in a very upscale, gated community. He hugged me from behind and placed an open mouthed kiss on my neck, just as a uniformed maid (housekeeper, servant, worker - I don’t know) greeted us at the front entrance (I won’t say front door, because that’s what I had, these people had an “entrance”) and led us through the foyer.

  We were intercepted by a pretty, peanut butter-colored older woman as we walked past the kitchen and were headed for a set of French doors that led to the backyard. She waved the uniformed woman away, and fixed us with a knowing smile. I figured the smile had something to do with the fact that Busy was still behind me, his arms still draped over my shoulders and he was periodically burying his nose in my neck, as we walked.

  “I was wondering if you were even gonna make it, Busy.” The woman said.

  She immediately commanded my attention, because she referred to him as “Busy,” as opposed to Maddox.

  “Of course I was gonna make it.” He replied easily. “I was just running a little late...because you know, there’s not usually a specific start time for this event.”

  “Not usually.” She agreed. “But Rob is one of the hosts this year, and he asked me to help out. You know how detail oriented I am.”

  “No one is more detail oriented than you, True.” He agreed with a snicker.

  “Which makes me the world’s greatest mother, and the world’s greatest agent.” Her eyes challenged him to disagree with her.

  He acceded with a nod of his head. “No doubt.”

  “There was definitely a start time, and you missed it by…” She glanced down at her gorgeous rose gold colored Audemars Piguet watch, “almost three hours.”

  “Your watch is beautiful.” I said, no longer able to keep the thought to myself.

  Her eyes bounced from the face of the watch up to my face, and she gave me a genuine smile. “You must be her. You must be Meeka.”

  “Mecca.” Busy and I corrected at the same time.

  She smiled again and cocked her head to the side. “I apologize, Mecca. I’m Ayana Truesdale, Maddox’s agent. He likes to call me True, and you may call me that as well. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too.” I said.

  “Since I’m late, what did I miss?” Busy asked.

  “Not much. Just the opportunity to show your girl off, and mix and mingle.”

  Frowning, Busy looked off over True’s shoulder. “I don’t need to show her off to none of these dudes.” He disagreed.

  “Uhm, this is new. ” She said in a teasing tone.

  “Fall back, True.”

  “Oh please, Busy. You know that is not about to happen. I wasn’t sure I would ever get to see the day that Maddox Mayhew would be possessive about a woman.” She glanced over at me with a look of appreciation. “Mecca, huh?”

  I decided to get in on the teasing by giving her a big, dramatic wink.

  “Oh, here y’all go.” He said.

  “Here you go.” She corrected. “You’re the one standing here acting so possessive that you don’t even want to introduce your date to your teammates.”

  “I’m acting possessive because my date is gorgeous as fuck.”

  “Get out of my face, Busy Mayhew. I’ll talk to you later.” She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly. “Mecca, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again.”

  “Thank you.” I said, as Busy took my hand and practically dragged me away.

  The turn-up in the backyard was real. There were about 100 people milling around a huge space that included a grassy knoll, an olympic sized swimming pool surrounded by a huge deck, an outdoor kitchen, and an inviting patio covered by a large pergola.

  There was a group of people chilling on the patio, I thought we would make a beeline for them, but nope. Busy led me to the outdoor kitchen, where he walked right up to the bar and ordered a drink for himself and one for me.

  “You hungry?” I asked him. “I’ll fix you a plate.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He looked around the backyard. “I don’t wanna stay long.”

  “You brought me all the way to Kentucky for us to make a cameo?” I confirmed. It wouldn’t make me a difference one way or the other. I was all about Busy, and was down for whatever he wanted. I just wanted him to be sure about what he was saying.

  The bartender handed our drinks to him. He placed a glass of the signature cocktail, the Leopard-tini, in my hand and took a drink from his glass of Hennessy and coke.

  “Nah.” He sighed like he was annoyed. “I’m just not trying to have a repeat of the shit that happened at the benefit, but I guess I should show you off.”

  I giggled. “Don’t think of it as “showing me off,” Boo. Think of it as what it is...introducing me to people. To your teammates.”

  “Let’s get this over with.” He took my free hand in his, and led me around the backyard to meet his teammates and their women.

  The last group of people we approached included Ayana Truesdale’s son, Robeson Miller, Justus Alexander, Lance Gardner, his wife, Dominique, a guy named Emerick Jones, and his wife, Sheena.

  “I see you brought my future girlfriend with you to Kentucky, Nigga.” Robeson said, as soon as we walked up, a wide grin on his handsome face.

  “What’d I tell you about that shit, Dude?” Busy asked him, but he was grinning as well, as he went in to dap Robeson up.

  “Nothing. She told me that she was busy being yours, you just sat there like a sucker.” He joked.

  “But after she said that, what was really left to be said?” Justus instigated.

  “Yeah, she’s the first person in history to shut your ass up.” Busy added.

  Robeson just chuckled. “What’s good, Beautiful?” He asked me.

  I knew he was being disrespectful, but something about Robeson let me know that he was really just messing with Busy, and wasn’t at all serious about getting with me.

  “Hey. Reggie, right?” I narrowed my eyes and asked just to mess with him.

  Busy laughed out loud.

  “Ain’t this some shit?” Robeson joked.

  “I’m just kidding. How’re you doing, Robeson?”

  “Call me, Rob, Little Mama. I’m good. You’re looking pretty, as usual.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For real, though. How did you end up with this burly, swoll motherfucker? Like for real. I’ve known him forever, so I know he ain’t really got no game.”

  Busy shook his head. “I got enough.”

  I nodded in agreement. “He has plenty.�
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  “Awww, you just gone break my heart, right here? In front of a crowd? No chill whatsoever?”

  “You’ll bounce back.” I assured him. “You have a lot of personality. I’m sure there are any number of women just waiting for you to give them some energy.”

  He cocked his head to the side and watched me silently for a few beats. “You mighta just been bullshitting me, but that actually made me feel better about myself. I am somebody.” He joked. He turned and looked over at Busy. “I like her, Dawg. She’s good people.”

  “Hell yeah, she is.” Busy responded, like that went without saying.

  “She definitely has good taste in shoes.” Dominique Gardner said, changing the subject.

  I looked down at the Saint Laurent wedges, which were beautiful, but obscenely expensive, then looked at Dominique beaming at her. “Thanks, Girl.”

  I felt Busy slide my hand inside his. I looked up at him and smiled.

  Mecca

  11

  About two days after the pictures from the Leopards’ Season Kickoff Backyard Barbecue thingy hit the internet, social media was able to connect all of the dots that I was a professional choreographer, who also happened to be the eldest daughter of DJ B. Goode. All of a sudden, every blog was posting stories about us, and photographers were posted up everywhere they thought that either DJ B. Goode, Busy or I would show up.

  My dad (of course) took all of the attention in stride. He stopped and posed for pictures, talked to whoever tried to talk to him, and basically turned every question or inquiry about me into a way to promote his upcoming projects. I loved that man. I also loved that Busy seemed to be following his exact same playbook. He never answered questions about me or made any comment that didn’t put the spotlight back on him or his upcoming season.

  Me, I basically stayed mum, and tried to remember to make sure that they always got my best angle when they photographed me. I didn’t workout six days a week to keep my dancers’ body tight for nothing.