The Sweetest Taboo

by Risqué

  As Yuri turned to do a spin, she spotted Britt eye-fucking her. Since Jeff wasn’t the dancing type she watched him stand against the wall and talk to Hassan, with his son falling out and crying at his feet.

  Yuri motioned with her index finger for Britt to come near. She knew that Troi was staring at her, but she didn’t give a damn.

  Britt walked over to Yuri and started dancing with her. She threw her ass into his shaft as if they were the only two in the room. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Britt asked her as his dick became hard. “You know you makin’ my dick hard.”

  “So how long you been fucking Troi?” Yuri asked, oblivious to Britt’s last statement.

  “I’m not fucking her,” he said, holding Yuri by the waist and imagining fucking her from behind.

  “No need to lie, Britt.”

  “You fucking Jeff?” Before Yuri could answer, he continued, “And watch what you say, ’cause I will turn this motherfucker out.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “Answer my question.”

  “No,” she lied. She’d just ridden Jeff’s dick last night.

  “Why would I play you like that, Yuri? Troi and I are business. As a matter of fact, I swear I didn’t even know this was Drae’s spot. She asked me to come with her to one of her friend’s parties and I agreed. That’s it.”

  “Why are you explaining anything to me? It’s cool.”

  “What, you don’t believe me?”

  “No.” She turned around to face him. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

  “Why would I lie? You here with Jeff. What I got to make up an explanation to you for?”

  “You don’t.” She did all she could to remain calm and not become emotional. She continued to dance her misery away.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m seeing her, because I’m not. She’s an entertainment attorney for Sony and I’m an artist. That’s it, nothing else.”

  “Look, stop explaining shit to me. It was fun while it lasted and now it’s over.” And, as if on cue, she stopped dancing. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

  As she walked away she bumped directly into Drae.

  “And you ain’t fucking this niggah?” Drae twisted her lips. “Yeah, okay.”

  Drae

  …All the chronic in the

  world couldn’t even mess with you…

  You the ultimate high…

  “Move over, Drae, I think I’m ’bout to cum….” Nae-Nae squealed as he watched the male dancer gun his hard chocolate dick against the gleaming metal pole. Nae-Nae tossed a twenty-dollar bill toward the dancer’s feet. “I don’t know ’bout y’all, but I’m ’bout to give all my abortion money away.”

  Drae eyed both sides of Fantasy Island, an upscale nightclub in midtown, which featured exotic male dancers every Wednesday evening, better known as Hump Night. Seeing they’d gathered a few onlookers, Yuri spoke through clenched teeth, “If you don’t sit yo’…punk ass…the fuck down…!” Yuri said to Nae-Nae.

  “Drae, is there a fag-hag spewing hateraid?” Nae-Nae tossed more money toward the stage. “I swear pussies is always hatin’ on Nae-Nae.”

  Drae sat at the table smoking her Virginia Slims with ease. Although she heard Nae-Nae, she didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at Hassan, who sat at the back of the club running his hands up a woman’s skirt. Drae could tell by the way he was biting his bottom lip and squinting his eyes that he was getting off on the feel of her stockings. After all, stockings, stilettos and voyeurism were his fetishes. For a moment Drae thought perhaps this was the type of casting call he did for his pornos before he brought the aspiring stars home to her.

  After a few minutes of watching Hassan feel-fuck a bitch, she hoped that Yuri and Nae-Nae hadn’t spotted him. She wasn’t in the mood to get funky, go off and pretend to care that he was checking for another woman; especially since she never told them he was an acclaimed underground porn director. As far as they knew, he created wildlife documentaries for National Geographic.

  Drae sized up the six-foot-tall woman. She hated to admit it, but the chick was fly. And usually Hassan sizing up a chick didn’t bother her, but something about this one was different.

  “Snap, snap,” Nae-Nae said to Drae, as he sipped on a Grey Goose martini. “Do you see the granddaddy of big dicks?” He pointed toward the stage, where the dancer generously massaged himself with motion lotion and baby oil.

  Drae mashed her cigarette in the ashtray and looked. “Oh my God,” she said, realizing that the dancer was Naz. Suddenly her heart started racing. She licked her lips as she stared at the muscles tumbling down his body like pouring rain, causing the beginnings of an orgasm to knot in her stomach. Her toes involuntarily curled up, she bit her bottom lip and imagined sucking his dick.

  Flashbacks of fucking him made her clit swell as she felt the shudder of him ramming into her.

  The flashing lights that illuminated his flawless body did him little justice as he gyrated his pelvis and jerked the muscles in his double-jointed dick. After a few seconds of popping his beautiful cock, he slowly wrapped his long fingers around his shaft and seduced his dick to release its personal liquid.

  The crowd lost control and hundred-dollar bills floated through the air like a nor’easter. “I’m cumming, Elizabeth!” Nae-Nae stretched his arms out and fainted. The extremely tight, black patent-leather leggings and vest suit he wore caused him to slip to the floor, where he lay and looked to be having an epileptic seizure.

  Naz spotted Drae in the crowd, gave her a half smile and winked.

  “He lookin’ at me, y’all,” Nae-Nae growled as he came to and helped himself off the floor. “Drae, give this niggah a blank check. And, Yur’ray”—he exaggerated her name the way he always did—“look in yo’ purse and give me one of your mornin’-after pills. I got a strange suspicion I might get pregnant tonight.”

  “I think I’ma throw up.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Drae said as she watched Naz leave the stage. She spoke as if she were in a trance, and for the moment she forgot about Hassan feel-fucking the chick in the back of the room.

  “Where are you going?” Yuri asked as Drae disappeared from her sight.

  Drae did her best to walk swiftly backstage and not get spotted by Hassan or stopped by the flashlight cop, who was eyeing her ass when she first came in. The club was so big that it felt like a maze. Moonlight and candlelit sconces lit up the glass ceiling, while the neon bars with “Red Light District” etched into the counter led the way to a swinging backstage door. There were naked dancers carrying their G-strings and half-naked dancers still sporting theirs. Most of them were holding someone’s hand and leading them in and out of the swinging door.

  With every step her heart pounded. As she walked through the swinging door she saw three more doors, all identical and painted black. She couldn’t tell which was the right one, but she knew Naz had to be back here somewhere. After a few seconds of staring blankly at the doors, she pushed the middle one open, only to find the bouncer she was trying to avoid on his knees with his eyes closed and a dick in his mouth. Immediately Drae’s heart stopped. As fast as she’d pushed the door open was as fast as she closed it. What the hell am I doing? She shook her head, feeling like a stripper’s groupie on a dick-searching field trip.

  This was ridiculous. She quickly came back to her senses and headed in the opposite direction to be seated with her friends. As she approached the exit, “Here I am” floated over her shoulder. She swallowed deeply realizing that Naz had been watching her this whole time.

  “Who said I was looking for you?” Drae said as she looked up. If it weren’t for his perfect smile she wouldn’t have recognized him, especially since he was fully dressed: Prada jeans, white thermal, blue goose-down vest, and Timbs.

  “There you go lying again,” he said.

  She stood silently.

  “What are you doing back here?” Naz asked, using all of his will not to slam her against the wall and
rape her pussy with his tongue, especially since, for the last three weeks, he had a craving for her cream. Instead he tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and pressed his top row of teeth into it.

  He looked her up and down admiring the way she was dressed: nothing over the top, just a pair of tight-fitting Gucci jeans, pink V-neck satin wrap shirt that complemented the tattoo of cream-drizzled cherries on her left breast and a pair of water-colored Manolos. He pulled at one of her belt loops. “Look at you.”

  She searched his eyes for a reason to leave but couldn’t find one. “I was looking…for the bathroom….” She hated to lie but hated even more that he made her nervous. “I got…lost.”

  Naz let her belt loop go, turned her around and grabbed her by the waist. He pulled her back to his chest, inadvertently causing his hard dick to molest the crack of her ass. “Do you make a habit of lying?”

  “What?” Drae prayed he couldn’t feel her legs shaking.

  “Let’s cut to the chase.” He kissed her on the side of the neck and massaged her waist. “You didn’t come back here for the bathroom, ’cause you passed the shit on the way in here. You came looking for some dick. But let me school you real quick. You can’t keep me, I don’t want no cars, no jewelry, no tuition money, no gifts, don’t give me access to your bank account and don’t send me no sneakers. Now”—he turned her around and kissed her softly on the lips—“go sit yo’ fine ass down.”

  Naz hated to play her, but what else was he going to do? He’d been down the road of screwing the horny-ass married chick and he wasn’t beat for it. He knew the only thing Drae could bring into his life was drama.

  Drae could’ve choked on her own spit. She hadn’t been this embarrassed since she was living with her mother, went to high school and a roach climbed out of her shoe. “You pornographic shakin’-yo’-ass motherfucker. Who you think you talkin’ to?! Oh”—she laughed nervously—“hell no, I’ll kick yo’ ass ’fore you play me crazy; you got Drae Shaw fucked up. Don’t stand up here and act like you got the biggest dick in the world, ’cause, truth be told, I was wondering where the rest of it was, niggah. Wit’ yo’ punk ass.” Gathering her hurt feelings and doing her best to fight off embarrassment Drae threw her hips in motion as she hurried toward the door.

  “Come here,” Naz called.

  “Kiss my ass,” she threw over her shoulder.

  “I’ve done that already. Now, I said ‘come here.’” He walked in front of her and blocked her path.

  “Didn’t you tell me to leave? So move,” she said, doing her best not to look him in the face.

  “What’s on your mind?” He caressed her cheeks.

  “Nothing.”

  “There you go lying again.” He kissed her from her forehead to her lips.

  “I’m not.” She hated that she was responding to his kisses, but his tongue was so warm and wet…and she loved the way it tossed and turned against hers. And to think she usually hated to kiss. It created too many emotions. She’d much rather him take his dick out and get right to the point, than to get her heart going, soup her up, and toss her away the next day. “Stop,” she said, pulling away. She wanted more than anything to confess that he’d been riding her mind; not only his dick, but him. And she wanted to take his hand, sit Indian style with him and find out everything from his whole name to his favorite foods. “I…I…gotta go,” she stuttered, pushing him off her. “Please, I need to leave.”

  Before he could say anything, she pushed past him and ran out the door, leaving it swinging behind her. She did her best to calm down before returning to her seat. As she approached the table where Nae-Nae and Yuri were throwing their hands in the air like whips, she noticed that Hassan and the woman he was feeling on were gone.

  “What took you so long?” Yuri asked as Drae retook her seat.

  “You just missed this Italian python-dick motherfucker!” Nae-Nae screamed. “Girl, that black-man-big-dick shit is a myth, ’cause that last mofo rocked a whole buncha niggahs to sleep.”

  “Get outta here,” Drae said with no sincerity, doing her best not to feel how fast her heart was beating.

  “And guess what else?” Nae-Nae asked, excited.

  “What?”

  “Yur’ray.” Nae-Nae smiled. “Don’t hate, ho. Tell this trick the deal, tell her the deal, Yur’ray.”

  “Chile, they called Nae-Nae onstage!”

  “Uhmm hmm, yop.” Nae-Nae was amped. “Sho’ did. Don’t hate, pussy, please don’t hate.”

  “And you know Flamin’ was acting ridiculous.” Yuri rolled her eyes.

  “Flamin’? Oh, you can slow the fuck down now, homegirl. I am anything but flamin’.”

  Drae attempted to show some interest. “I know he showed his ass.”

  “Chile”—Nae-Nae swept invisible sweat from his brow—“I was this close to showin’ my ass, but security stopped me. Anywho, let me inform you.” He pointed to his chest. “This homo thug still got his shit off.”

  “How?”

  “I sang to that niggah.” Nae-Nae stood up and started moving his midsection like a snake. “I said, ‘Used to be scared of the dick, now I throw lips to shit….’” He sat back down and popped his neck. “I’m so fierce I can’t even stand myself.”

  “At least I ain’t alone.” Yuri laughed.

  “See, what I mean. I swear on the Rainbow God that pussies is always hatin’ on Nae-Nae.”

  “Why you so quiet?” Yuri asked Drae, as Yuri sipped on her drink. “You usually cussin’ Nae-Nae out along with me. Who you thinking about?”

  “Nobody…” she said agitated. “Y’all ready to go?” Drae fanned herself with a flyer.

  “Hell, no.” Nae-Nae twisted his neck. “You got this homo thug fucked up, I got one last nut to get.”

  “Would you stop calling yo’self a homo thug?” Yuri snapped. “Little Richard is mo’ homo thug than you, spare me.”

  “Excuse you?” Nae-Nae couldn’t believe it. “Little Richard? Lil Wayne maybe, but not Little Richard….”

  After listening to Nae-Nae and Yuri go on and watching two more dancers come and go, Drae reached for her purse. “Look, I’m leaving. And I don’t give a fuck about who ain’t rollin’.” She stood up.

  “Your period on?” Yuri frowned. “What, you suddenly got cramps or some shit?”

  “I got some Midol if you need it,” Nae-Nae volunteered.

  “You going with me,” Drae said, agitated, “or what?”

  “Well, damn.” Nae-Nae sucked his teeth. “What, you gon’ stab us if we don’t roll?”

  “All right now.” Yuri said, attempting to keep the peace. “Let’s go.”

  Drae bolted out of the club, practically tripping over humiliation. She was pissed that confusion was fucking her up. The winter wind was sharp and cutting across her face. She didn’t remember being this cold on the way in, but perhaps embarrassment had sucked all the heat from her body. “You might wanna go and get your coat,” Yuri whispered in her ear.

  “Damn,” Drae said. “Wait right here.” Drae ran back in and grabbed her coat. On the way to her car, she saw Naz talking to a unknown woman while leaning against his SUV. She could feel him watching her as she passed him by.

  “Any time!” Nae-Nae yelled at Naz as he passed by Drae. “Any place!”

  “Get yo’ ass on in here!” Drae said as she pushed him in the car.

  “Pussy, you better stop hatin’!”

  “Yo’ ma’,” she heard Naz yell as she headed toward the driver’s side of the car, “where you goin’?”

  “Home wit’ you!” Nae-Nae shouted. “Let me out Drae, I gotta ride.”

  “Shut up and stay in the car.” Drae walked over to Naz. It was obvious that she had an attitude.

  “Don’t be like that, ma’.” He tilted his head to the side as the light from the street lamp was reflected off the waves in his dark faded Caesar and his long side burns. He tucked his thumb behind his oversized silver belt buckle, showing the waistband of his boxers.


  Drae stared at him and hated that she felt compelled to stand there. “What do you want?!” she practically screamed.

  “Don’t scream.” He placed his hands under her coat and into her back jeans pockets. “It’ll give me flashbacks.”

  Drae hated that she felt complimented. “Okay, so you called me over to talk about what?”

  “To start over and apologize for some of the things I said earlier. My fault.”

  “What makes you think I wanna start over?”

  “’Cause you standing here.” Naz looked her dead in the eyes. “Check this: my fault. I talk too much sometimes. I just want you to know you should call me every now and then.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t have your number.”

  “Check your back pocket.”

  “Oh, you a slick one.” She smiled as she slid his number from her back jeans pocket. “Real slick.”

  He slapped her on the ass as she turned to go. “Don’t forget me.”

  “Uhmm hmm, I won’t.” She got in her car and left.

  Yuri

  For the last two weeks Yuri survived at home by giving Jeff a few sessions of heartache-free and painless pussy. She was able to muster some lost emotion from the pit of her belly and act like the needy, sympathetic and doting wife, but now she was sick of the submissive bullshit. There’d been a few times she wanted to cuss Jeff out. Like when she came home to his son coloring on her kitchen wall and Jr.’s mother calling her house practically all night. Or when Jeff’s insecurities reemerged and he started stalking her on the phone, calling her at least ten times a day to ask the same nagging shit about what she was doing and what time she was coming home. Not understanding that for the last two weeks she’d been in mourning. Mourning her decision to leave Britt alone, which was why she couldn’t sleep, could barely eat and struggled like hell to say more than two words to Jeff without lighting his ass up.