by Cairo
“Dang. You smell good,” he said, mischief glinting in his eye. “You’re making me hungry,” he said low and sexy for only me to hear.
I playfully rolled my eyes, waving him on. “Boy, stop. It isn’t me that has you hungry. It’s that barbecue chicken you smell baking in the oven.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s you, for real. You smell real nice, Mrs. Lang.” He paused, looking me over. “You always do.”
The only thing I could do to keep from swooning was, smile and let the compliment float over my head. Kyree was known for always flattering me and for being flirty, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He’d been that way since he was around eleven, twelve. His mother and I would always joke how he was going to be a real ladies man, and a heartbreaker. And from what I’d witnessed over the years, he’d slowly become just that.
Still…
When he was younger, his flirting was harmless. Cute. But he wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was a young man growing into a man’s body. He was bold. And direct. And knew what he wanted. His seductive charm was borderline cannibalistic. Untamed. Dangerous.
God help me, but I was enjoying it. I was enjoying him.
I swallowed back the rising thoughts of what he’d look like without his clothes on, of what it’d feel like with him between my legs. “How’s Carla?” I asked, changing the subject to something safe.
He gave me a puzzled look. “Who?”
“Your girlfriend.” I dried my hands on a towel, turning to face him.
“Oh, Kara. I gave her the boot.”
“Oh.” I smiled, shaking my head. He and Jacob were both notorious for showcasing a girl for a few months, sometimes for only a few weeks, before replacing her with someone cuter or hotter. Most times it was hard to keep up. It was always a revolving door of different girls. “She seemed like a nice girl.”
He shrugged, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and taking a seat. He stretched his long legs out, crossing his size fourteens at the ankles. “She was aiight, I guess. Just not for me.”
I tilted my head. “Oh?”
“Yeah, she was too young-minded. Young girls bore me. I can’t relate to ’em. And most of ’em can’t handle me.”
I bit into my bottom lip, trying to control my breathing.
“I need me a woman. Someone with lots of experience.”
I swallowed, hard.
His lips curled up into a slow, sexy grin as his eyes skimmed over my body. This particular afternoon, I was wearing a short white skirt with a pink tank top that had WORLD’S SEXIEST MOM scrawled across the front in silver glitter. Toes painted pink, my pedicured feet were in a pair of sandals.
You couldn’t tell me shit. I knew I was the world’s sexiest mom alive. Hell, even my sons knew it, hence why they’d picked out the shirt I had on and bought it for me. But, then, would be ready to punch someone’s admiring eyes shut for staring too long.
“Besides,” he added, giving me a lingering look that made my skin tingle, “older women are real sexy to me.”
I smiled, swiping a strand of hair from out of my face.
“Well, dating an older woman is every young man’s fantasy. So I’m sure you’ll have no problem snaring you a few cougars.”
“True.” He licked his luscious lips. Suddenly I felt like I was dancing with fire and quickly averted my eyes from his burning gaze. “Been there, done that. Now I have my eye on…”
“Yo, ma…?” my son Jacob called out walking into the kitchen. Saved. He frowned, stalking over and mushing Kyree in the head. “Man, why you always all up under my moms for? I just texted your ugly ass to see where you were.”
“Jacob!”
“My bad, Ma.”
Kyree sucked his teeth, pulling his phone from his front pocket. “Man, go ’head with that. Don’t hate. Celebrate. You know I’m big on your mom.”
“Yeah, well, you about to get a big lump upside that big-ass head of…”
“Boy, watch your mouth,” I warned, grabbing a dishtowel and playfully swatting him with it.
He laughed. “I’m saying, Ma. This fool is always somewhere grinning in your face. You know I don’t play that.” He wrapped his lanky arms around me and kissed me on the side of my head. “And you know I’m not even about to share you with this clown.”
Now it was my turn to laugh, trying to wiggle out of his embrace. “Boy, stop. You know there’s enough of me to go around.” That hadn’t come out the way I’d meant it, but the only one who seemed to pick up on the innuendo was Kyree.
Lust seemed to glow in his eyes. Fortunately Jacob hadn’t seen it. Otherwise I’m sure things wouldn’t have turned out so great that day. Both of my sons were overprotective and liked to think they were my fathers at times, especially when their father was away on business for extended periods of time, like he was this particular day.
Jacob draped his arm over my shoulder as Kyree smiled.
“Yeah, aiight. I got your clown all right,” he said, eyeing me. “Besides, you heard your mom. You gotta share her with me. Now we both have the world’s sexiest mom.”
My cheeks flushed.
“Man, you buggin’,” Jacob said, shooting him a dirty look. “Get outta here with that.”
“Kyree, are you staying for dinner?” I asked, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, feeling heat swell up inside of me from somewhere unknown, and so unexpected.
Jacob sucked his teeth. “You already know his greedy butt is. That’s the only reason he comes over.”
Kyree laughed, rising to his feet. “Hey, what can I say”—he rubbed his stomach—“I stay hungry. And I love to eat. So, yup, if you cooking, Mrs. Lang, I’m eating.” His eyes twinkled when he smiled, flashing the dimple in his left cheek.
“Yo, come on, fool, before I have to punch your lights out.” Jacob yanked him by the arm, dragging him toward the doorway. “Ma, we’ll be down in the basement. Let us know when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling somewhat relieved and flustered as they disappeared down the stairs, closing the door behind them.
I took a deep breath, then gasped.
Shit.
My panties were wet.
• • •
Later that evening, after dinner was long eaten and the dishes washed, Kyree sauntered out into the living room—leaving Jacob down in the basement, supposedly on the phone talking to his latest girlfriend. I was on the sofa finally watching the season finale of The Blacklist when he stood in the middle of the room.
There was about twenty more minutes left, and it literally had me sitting on the edge of my seat. And talking to me before a commercial break was a no-no.
“Awww, damn. This is my shit”—I shot him a scathing look—“oops, my bad, Mrs. Lang.” He looked at me apologetically. “I’m sayin’ though. Reddington is that dude; feel me?”
I didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter. I eyed him out of my peripheral vision as he sat down beside me. Breathed in his masculine scent as he eased back and stretched a muscled arm over the back of the sofa and spread his legs.
I nearly jumped out of my seat when Harold Cooper got attacked in his car.
“Oh, daaaayum!”
I lightly slapped him on his hard thigh. “Boy, I’ma put you up out of here, if you don’t watch your mouth.”
He grinned sheepishly. “My bad, Mrs. Lang.” His knee lightly brushed against my thigh. “You know I’d never do anything to disrespect you.”
“Then stop talking and watch your mouth,” I said, glancing over at him.
He widened his grin. “I got you, World Sexiest Mom.”
“Boy, hush. And quit flirting with me.”
He looked over toward the archway that led into the hallway to see if the coast was clear. Then back at me. “Why? I’m only speaking truth. Am I making you uncomfortable?” There was defiance in the way he stared, smirking. He was testing me, trying to bait me. His mouth curved, revealing that scrumptious dimple.
Me, apparently. Shit.
Keenly aware of the arousal bubbling inside of me, I considered scooting away from him, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was unraveling me. Instead, I stayed planted in my seat, willing my racing pulse still.
“No, not at all. Should I be?”
Kyree’s peering eyes stayed fixed on me when he said, very softly, “Nah. You mad sexy, Mrs. Lang. I wanna make love to you.”
“Excuse me?”
He boldly repeated himself. And that time I heard the hunger in his voice, hot and greedy, like a starved lion circling its prey.
Instantly my pussy grew wet, and my throat dry. I snatched up the remote to the DVR and pressed PAUSE. Then met his eyes, clearing my throat along with the filthy thoughts pooling in the crevices of my mind.
“Young man, have you been drinking?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t drink.”
I tilted my head. “Smoking?”
“I don’t do that either.”
I playfully popped him in the back of the head. “Then your horny behind must have been dropped on your head to think it’s okay to play with me. I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“Oww, oww.” He feigned hurt, rubbing his head, then smiled. “And I’m old enough to know what sexy is.”
“Well, sexy or not. You need to get your hormones under control.”
“See. You still think I’m a little boy?”
“Oh, you’re not?”
“Nah. I’m a man, Mrs. Lang. And I’m very much in control of my hormones. If I wasn’t…” His voice trailed off as he licked his lips. Heat shot through my pussy, and I shifted in my seat, pressing my thighs together in hopes to squelch the fire slowly burning inside me. “Just know I’m mature enough to know what I want.”
My brows rose. “That’s nice. But, know this: in life—we don’t always get what we want.”
“Don’t you know I’m spoiled? I always get what I want.” And with that he grinned, showing his dimple again.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.”
“I do, Mrs. Lang. And right now”—he leaned into my ear and whispered—“I want you.”
“Okay, boy. That’s it. Out.” I jumped to my feet, trying to mask being unnerved by him. But my mind was spinning so goddamn fast, I thought my head would twist right off my shoulders. I concentrated on breathing, while steadying myself from toppling over. Kyree stood to his feet as well. And it took everything in me to keep my eyes off the meaty bulge I noticed straining against the fabric of his pants.
“It’s time for you to go.”
He laughed. “Why? What I do? I’m only speaking the truth.”
“You’re too damn fresh.” I walked over, hips swinging—a little harder than usual—and opened the door. “Bye, Kyree.” I stifled a girlish giggle. Shame on me. “Tell your mom I said hello.”
“I will.” He stepped into my space. “If I tell you something, I need for you to promise me you won’t get offended.”
I tilted my head. My breathing quickened. “Will I need to wash your mouth out?”
He chuckled. “Nah, nah.”
I eyed him, curiously, my mind reeling between excitement and wonder. “Go ’head.” My voice went soft, and breathy.
“Not until you promise you won’t get mad.” His voice was low. Enticing.
I felt the impending waves of pleasure. The sexual tide was rising. And he was drawing me under, and—in a matter of time—I knew I was going to drown in the swell of whatever words he’d spoken. Everything about this boy—this, this man-child—was raw sensuality. And it had me toying precariously along the sinful edges of desire.
Primal heat.
I drew in my breath. “Boy, since when has anything ever stopped you from saying whatever you wanted to me?”
He grinned knowingly. Like my sons, the boy had no filter, so there was very little he could say—that he hadn’t already said, or attempted to say—that would shock me. He stepped in closer and leaned into my ear. “I’ve been fantasizing about you since I was fifteen, Mrs. Lang. I’m tired of imagining what it’d be like.” I felt the sensual brush of his lips against my ear as he spoke. “Tonight, I’m gonna go home and masturbate, imagining it’s your pretty mouth instead of my hand. But I’m ready to experience the real thing.”
I know, right then, I should have smacked the sexy smirk that followed clean off his handsome face. I should have drawn a deep line in the proverbial sand long before it’d gotten that far and made it clear as to where he stood and what boundaries he was never to cross. Goddamn him! But I didn’t.
Stunned into silence, I watched as this cocky little bastard lightly brushed by me and strolled out with a smooth, sultry stride that made my toes curl, leaving the bait dangling—and me hot, flustered, and dangerously horny.
I couldn’t deny it. Kyree had sparked something deep inside me. Something that made me feel naughty and exciting. Something that made me feel wickedly dirty and scandalous.
And I wanted a taste of him…forbidden fruit.
• • •
“Damn, babe,” Kyree says, slicing into my thoughts. “You’re driving me crazy.”
I blink him back into view. I know I shouldn’t enjoy this, him, but I so desperately do. I grin mischievously as I saunter over toward the bed, slowly sliding my tongue over my lips as I climb up onto the bed, and slowly crawl between his magnificent legs.
A hot coil of desire twists through me, making my flesh boil and my pussy go slicker than it already is. I lick the inside of his right thigh, then his left thigh, brushing my hand provocatively over his balls, then crawling up over his body. I lick inside his navel. Kiss his stomach. Trail my tongue up to his chest. Then suck his nipples awhile, twirling my tongue over them every so often, until they harden. Then I nip them, flick them, and lick them some more. The sensations are driving him wild.
“Ahh. Shit. Damn. Ooh, yeah. Fuck.”
All politeness goes out the window, and the rules change, when Kyree and I are alone and he is naked. He talks dirty. I talk dirty. Cursing is allowed. It is welcomed. Wanted. Warranted.
I move back down his ripped body, raking my aching 36-C’s across his chest and stomach before stopping at his dick, then rubbing my breasts all over his dick and balls. I tease him the way he teases me, flicking my tongue over the head of his dick, then grabbing my breasts and licking over each nipple.
“Fuck, yo. Stop fuckin’ with me.”
I grin, finally putting his dick between my breasts and titty-fucking him. My tongue laps at the slit of his dick each time its head pops out between my golden brown globes.
“Mmm. Look at that big hard dick sliding between my breasts. You like that?”
He grunts. “Yeah. But I’m tryna fuck, babe. Let me get some pussy. Shit, yo. Let me get up in you.”
“Not yet,” I say, taking the head of his dick and smearing it over my right nipple, soaking it with his precum. I suck my nipple into my mouth, moaning. “Mmm. Tastes so good.”
“C’mere and let me suck them titties. That pussy. Something.”
I smear more of his nectar over my left nipple, then lick it.
A few minutes more, and I free his dick from between my breasts, then lap at it. It bobs around, jerking away from my tongue. I fondle his balls, gently pulling at them, cupping them, then squeezing them.
Kyree groans. “What. The. Fuuuuck…?”
He’s at my mercy. And he knows it. I possess him in this moment. He is mine. All mine.
I keep my gaze locked on his heavy-lidded eyes. “You heard the saying, ‘be careful what you ask for,’ right?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, winding his hips. “And I want everything I’ve asked for. Give it
to me. Fuck.”
“Well, baby, tonight’s your lucky night.”
I inch my way back down his body, licking his thighs, his shins, the sides of his calves, his ankles, then slide my tongue over the top of his right foot, before licking over his toes. I switch to his left foot. He groans, then grunts as I suck his big toe into my mouth, my tongue sliding in between it. His head thrashes side to side.
“Aah. Shit. Aah. You killin’ me. Suck me. Fuck me. Give me somethin’. I’m ready to nut. Aaah, shiiiit.” One toe, then two, then three. My tongue laves each one, before sucking them back into my mouth. “Uhh, fuck, babe. Shit. I ain’t never had my toes sucked. Aaah, damn.”
Licking the bottom of his left foot, I eye his throbbing dick as it bounces wildly, streaks of his sticky man sap drizzling all over his abdomen. He’s so hard and thick, so aroused that his nipples pebble harder.
Kyree allows me to do things to him that Sebastian would never consider. And I love it. I am so turned on by his adventurous streak.
I crawl back up between his legs. Grab ahold of the base of his shaft. I lick along a thick, pulsing vein. Run my parted lips up and down the side, teasing him.
“Fuck, baby. Shit. Aaah, shit. Suck my dick.” His stomach clenches as I swirl my tongue around the plush head of his dick, coating my tongue with his precum. I slowly fist him, milking him for more of his sticky fluids.
He keeps his gaze on me, cursing and moaning. Watching every wet swipe of my tongue over his head, along his shaft. “Suck that shit. Aah. Fuck.”
He throbs against my tongue, his scent, his tongue, intoxicating me. Filling my dripping mouth, I French-kiss the big, swollen head of his dick, slowly licking the precum as it oozes from its slit. I touch the tip of my tongue to it and swirl it around, spreading his sweet nectar over the head.
“Damn, baby,” he says hoarsely. “Yeah, like that. Yeah. That’s it. God, that feels good. Aaah, fuck…”
I place wet, warm, sticky kisses all the way down the underside of his throbbing shaft, then lick up and down before washing his young, tender, full balls with my tongue.
“Aaah, yeah…shit…oooh, fuck…”
My eyes flutter up at him. “You like that, little daddy?”
