Red Light Special

by Risqué

  Monday’s back faced him when he returned to the bedroom. It was daylight, but only a small portion of the sun shone into the room and on the bed because the curtains were drawn.

  She could hear him coming behind her. She shut her eyes tight because she wasn’t in the mood to argue and she wasn’t in the mood to think; she just wanted to be left alone.

  “Monday,” he whispered, his warm breath hitting the base of her neck. He ran his hands along the side of her thick hourglass frame and began to kiss down the center of her back. Though his kisses felt good, she was determined not to let him know. Besides, these were the same lips that had probably been off last night caressing his mistress.

  “Don’t,” Monday said, shaking her head.

  “Don’t fight it.” He slid his wet and warm tongue down the center of her back and started pulling off her bikini panties with his teeth, his lips sliding down her butt cheeks. Her mind and her mouth were resistant, but her body was insistent and her hips lifted just enough for him to pull her underwear all the way down over her feet and toss them to the floor. He turned her over toward him and slid her bra straps off her shoulders. “Monday.” He squeezed her nipples and kissed the left side of her neck. Slipping her sleep mask off, he said, “I’m your man and I need you to ride this with me.”

  “But I don’t even know,” she said as he slid his fingers into her slippery slope, “what I’m riding anymore. You don’t love me.”

  “I love the hell outta you. Let me tell you something.” He massaged her clit while looking her dead in the eyes. “You think I’m going to let something come between me and you?” He took her bra off and held her breasts together, alternating the kisses he gave her nipples. He continued to whisper, “We’ve been…together…for ten years,” in between words he sucked her breasts, “built…our…whole life…together.” She could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh as he untied the towel from around his waist.

  She ached with desire as he cupped her breasts with his palms and slid down her belly.

  Monday wanted desperately to fight against how good she felt as his tongue rocked her body, but she couldn’t.

  “I don’t deserve you.” He danced on her jumping clit with the tip of his tongue. “You’ve been perfect, and I haven’t been all that you needed me to be.” He licked.

  “I owe everything to you,” Kenyatta continued, his tongue feeling like sweet heat. “And if you think I’m going to let something fuck up my marriage, then you’re wrong.” He sucked her cream as if it were butter melting in his mouth. Never had he handled her clit as methodically as he did now. She pulled on the corner of the sheet and started to moan then scream.

  “That’s right, baby,” he said with assurance. “Scream. I want you to scream. This is my cream.” He licked inside her.

  “This is all my cream.” He sucked her candy until his mouth was sticky and full.

  “Kenyatta,” Monday moaned.

  “What you want baby—tell me?”

  A million thoughts of how she needed to push this motherfucker off of her and simply bounce ran through her mind. Monday knew she didn’t need to analyze, she didn’t need to wonder why, how, or where all of this went wrong; she simply needed to gather what she could and leave. But she couldn’t, and it was nothing she could do or knew how to do; especially with her pussy turning to orgasmic pudding in his mouth.

  He blew up and down her soaking lips, taking his tongue and licking the butterscotch juice from each of them; making her thighs shake like butterflies and the muscles in her shins tighten like spasms. Monday wondered if she’d always have a Jones for him or if she’d be able to find a way to break away and detox on her own. But as he flipped her over, tossed her salad, and ran his pulsating dick over her plump ass, over her slit, and between her erotic lips she knew at this moment she would forever be addicted.

  She braced the edge of the bed and winced as they eased into what had become one of their favorite positions and began fucking her with such force and speed that it was evident he was on a mission.

  “This what you wanted?” He reached his hand under her belly and cupped her breasts. “Look how wet this shit is, and you tryna act like you can do without this dick.”

  Monday continued to fight with silence, but the screams deriving from the base of her throat were taking over. Not to mention that the slapping of his balls across her ass caused her whole body to shiver and melt into creamy pieces.

  “Fuck!” Kenyatta bit his bottom lip, doing his best to change his focus from the nut rushing to his tip and instead concentrate on teaching her a lesson. He could feel Monday’s pelvis begin to contract as she arched her back and threw her ass directly in the pit of his shaft.

  A wicked smile ran across his face, “Oh, you want this dick now?”

  Monday didn’t respond, instead her body battled with her mouth’s involuntary moaning and groaning.

  “Tell me you want it.”

  The battle continued.

  “Say it!”

  Despite her fight, she was losing like hell, as lustful ooohes and ahhhhs forced their way through her stubborn throat.

  “Say it.” He stroked, pounding her in a heated succession.

  Nothing.

  “Oh, you wanna act like you don’t appreciate a motherfucker. Ai’ight,” he sniffed, “since you don’t give a fuck…” he hit her with one last stroke and then pulled out.

  “Stop playing.” Monday turned over on her back, grabbed his dick, slid it back in, and gyrated her hips.

  “I knew you wanted this dick. Now tell me you want it.”

  Silence.

  “I swear yo’ ass is stubborn. I see I’ma have to slide out again.” He started to pull toward the base.

  “Uhmmm…Kenyatta…don’t…pull out…”

  “You want this dick?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Say it, like you mean it!”

  “I want it.”

  “Of course you do. Now say it again.” He flipped her back around doggy style; placing his hands at the small of her back. He stroked her rapidly and just as he began to lose his breath he pulled her to the edge of the bed, forcing her head to hang off and before Monday knew it her hands were pressed on the floor and he was fucking her with her legs straight up in the air. “I’m listening,” he said, holding her by the waist.

  Her pussy thumped, her ass jumped, and the blood rushed to her head. She was practically in tears, and though she hesitated, she felt dick whipped enough to say it. “I want it.”

  “I know you do,” he said as he pulled her back on the bed and they resumed doggy style again. He bit her on the shoulders and held his hands at the base of her neck. Loving the confining position he’d put her in, his nut threatened to escape as he pushed his expanding manhood as deep as he could, filling her tight walls with every thick and uncircumcised inch of him.

  His hard strokes grinded into her as her breasts flopped wildly, her hard nipples swung in the wind, and her arched back curled under his defined chest. “Listen at that shit.” They became extremely silent as the noise of her pussy juices clapped against his ramming hard dick as if it were giving him a standing ovation.

  “This shit wetter than a motherfucker.” He spat as sweat drizzled down his chest and onto her back. “This my pussy and don’t you ever forget that shit.”

  Monday didn’t know what was better: having to submit to such pleasurable punishment or the fact that his big dick roughly hit the spot every time, causing her feelings to rewind and reconsider all the times she thought about leaving this selfish motherfucker.

  Jolts of electricity forced milk to gush from between her thighs as tears slid from her eyes and her mouth hung open. All she could think was there had to be a law against a niggah like this having a dick game so intense.

  As he stroked Monday, her thick cum coating his hard and luscious member, he whispered in her ear, “Tell me you love this dick.”

  She didn’t respond.

&n
bsp; Kenyatta stopped midstroke, “Oh, you don’t love this dick?” He pounded her with all he had, his strokes intensifying as he yanked her hair back. “Answer me!” He tore into her, his strokes echoing like a whip being flicked. “Answer me! Answer…me!”

  “Yes!” Monday screamed. She knew the bottom of her pussy had fallen out. She felt bruises form on her ass as she threw her hips onto his shaft, “I love it!”

  “You better.” His pace raced.

  Monday didn’t respond, she was too busy enjoying the whipping between her thighs. She grabbed her clit, squinted her eyes, and toyed with it.

  “You ridin’ for me?” Kenyatta’s nut thumped at the tip of his dick like an oozing heartbeat. He did what he could to hold back his erotic explosion, but the sweetness of Monday’s pussy was fucking with him and taunting him to bring it all home.

  As the chilling sensation rocked Monday’s body, her head started to spin. She could feel another and more powerful orgasm tumbling and wrestling in the pit of her belly, ready to bathe him with a slick coating of vanilla.

  Monday began to pant and although she didn’t want to, she had to call his name, because the way he was fucking her now was straight insane, “Kenyaaaaaaatttttttaaaaaa!!!” Instantly she felt her brain freeze, causing her to breathe like an asthmatic. She did what she could to get it together and collect her thoughts as she considered that maybe…maybe he did love her…and maybe…just maybe…his dick was worth all the drama he was causing…and maybe she needed to fall back, but whatever the maybe was, it ain’t have shit on the thunderous storm of hailing cum he was now raining over her back.

  Once they were done and they both lay there, Kenyatta twirled Monday’s hair and said, “We’re going to get through this, baby.”

  “Really?” she asked him, for once he sounded sincere.

  “Of course. Without you, where would I be? In the streets somewhere campaigning for somebody else, not achieving my goals, steadily trying to find myself? If anything I need to say thank you. Thank you for being there, for supporting me, for encouraging me. Thank you for making me who I am today.”

  Monday lay on her back as he slid down her body and hooked her legs over his shoulders. She realized this was the same shit all over again. Nothing had changed, not even for a split second, and the only thing new were the scratches she’d just discovered on his back.

  Collyn was caught completely off guard and slightly embarrassed as she shifted in her seat. She sat in the outdoor café and watched her party step out of his onyx Navigator and click the remote to lock his doors. Had she known Kenyatta’s friend would be this fine, she would’ve rocked her virgin-white Marilyn Monroe dress with no panties underneath.

  New York City’s midmorning traffic seemed to halt as he walked his fine ass across the street and looked directly into her face. Though they’d only spoken on the phone, she knew he’d recognized her as soon as he slid his aviator shades off and his dimples lit up the sky.

  Squeezing her inner thighs together, Collyn blew a slow string of air out the side of her mouth as the hostess led him to their table.

  He smiled at her. “Collyn?” Immediately and without hesitation, his eyes fucked every part of her curvaceous body. For a moment she wondered if that’s how her name would roll off his tongue if he were stroking her.

  “Bless?” She held her hand out, and he kissed it.

  “Yes,” he said in a smooth, deep voice. Chills shot up her spine and into her chest, causing her to arch her back, which made her breasts bounce just enough to command attention.

  He was six-two and resembled the actor Idris Elba, but with a cut-up body like the rapper Fifty Cent. Just the sight of him made her already protruding nipples so hard they became sore. He was the color of pure Colombian cocoa, and his eyes were like slits of brown diamond with a natural flicker and intensity that said he was always on guard. He wore his hair in a dark faded Caesar with an abundance of spinning waves. A neatly lined boxed beard graced the flawless skin on his face.

  He was dressed in an ecru Armani short-sleeve shirt, matching dress pants, and square-toe gators. His muscles tumbled down his long defined arms, and Collyn could only imagine that kissing them would flavor her lips with the essence of dark chocolate.

  Collyn pushed her oval Chanel shades to the top of her head, and Bless licked his bottom lip. Just when he’d thought she couldn’t get any prettier, she did. Shaped like a special-edition bottle of Coca-Cola Classic, she had the beauty of a Brazilian goddess. Her hair fell over her shoulders and to the small of her back in an abundance of sexy curls. Her skin was the color of rich mahogany, and her almond-shaped eyes spoke volumes. Her breasts were succulent, full, and perfectly round, and her killer smile was framed by kissable lips. “You’re late,” she said.

  “And you’re fine, but you don’t see me complaining.” He smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth.

  Collyn laughed as her eyes ran over the menu.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, sitting down.

  “That pathetic-ass line.”

  “Pathetic?” He gave her a crooked grin. “Well, would you like to suggest another one, then?”

  “Not particularly.” She batted her eyelashes. “But what I would like to know,” she said, the tone of her voice quickly becoming serious, “is where is Kenyatta, and why would he send you alone?”

  “Do you have something against being alone with me?”

  “No, I have something against not knowing you, because this is not how I conduct business, and Kenyatta knows that. I would’ve shut this whole motherfucker down,” she said, “if I knew he would be nowhere around.”

  “Damn, beautiful, chill. He called me right before I got here and said an emergency came up last night and he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

  “He told you this?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Yes.”

  “So why didn’t he call me?”

  “I don’t know.” Bless pulled out his cell phone. “Call and ask him.”

  Collyn stared at Bless. He was fine, but at this moment that didn’t mean shit. This was not how she handled things at Red Light Special, her exclusive call-girl business, and she wasn’t going to start today. She only took clients by referral and personal introductions. But not only was she feeling this niggah, she’d broken at least three of her cardinal rules when she should’ve dismissed his ass at hello.

  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Kenyatta’s number. “Excuse me, sir,” she sarcastically said to Bless as Kenyatta answered the phone. She stood up and walked away from the table. “Where are you?”

  “Listen—”

  “And don’t lie either.”

  “You want me to answer the questions or not?” Kenyatta snapped.

  “Hurry up.”

  “Bless is going to front you my half for the party, but I won’t be able to make it to Sag Harbor.”

  “Why?”

  “Everything is a mess right now.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You better get to fuckin’ talkin’ or this whole party is a wrap! Now who is this cat Bless?”

  “A friend of mine. I met him a while back. He’s cool. He likes hoes and shit. He wanted to give a pussy extravaganza with me and he had the money to do it, so—”

  “I really have a problem with this.”

  “Collyn, all money is green.”

  “But I don’t know this motherfucker.”

  “Look, I just told you he was straight. And I can’t keep talking because some of my staff just came in.”

  “Kenyatta…Kenyatta?” When he didn’t answer, Collyn realized he’d hung up on her. “Damn it!” she spat, snapping her phone shut. Still feeling uneasy, she headed back to the table.

  “Done throwing a temper tantrum?” Bless asked as she sat down.

  “Temper tantrum?” She cut her eyes at him. “Let me put you on notice real quick: I’m not in the mood for no bullshit. So be clear, I do
n’t feel like checkin’ no fine-ass wanna-be-an-around-da-way niggah because he thinks he’s the one.

  “This is about business, and if you ain’t talking about my money or trying to tell me why Kenyatta would be planning this exclusive-ass party with you and suddenly have some shit he can’t discuss come up, then I don’t wanna hear it! So”—she wiggled her right hand, the canary diamond she wore on her index finger sparkling in the sun—“relax that shit.” She looked at the waitress, who’d just arrived at the table. “May I have a cup of coffee with a kiss of cream, please?”

  “And the gentleman?” The waitress smiled.

  “Just give me a minute,” Bless said in a tone that let the waitress know he needed her to leave. As she walked away he cleared his throat. “Check this, beautiful.” He looked at Collyn and paused. “Don’t get this Armani-dress-pants outside-café shit fucked up. I’ma Brooklyn-hoodie-and-Timbs niggah all day.

  “So all that rah-rah you bringin’ ain’t even for you. Me and ol’ boy are cool, but he’s not my motherfuckin’ problem, so you handle that. Now, if you don’t do business with people you’ve never met face-to-face, you should’ve told me that on the phone. But I’m here now and all that other shit you poppin’ at the mouth is extra, so stop it. Understand?” Slipping the menu from her hands, he stroked her cheek. Running his right thumb across her MAC-covered lips, he repeated himself. “Understand?”

  Collyn didn’t know what turned her on the most, being put in her place or the boldness of his touch. But no matter what, she had to keep her composure. She moved his thumb and popped her lips as she spoke. “Don’t touch me if I didn’t give you permission to. Now…” She paused. “Do you understand?”

  Before Bless could respond, Collyn’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw it was one of her clients in California. “Hello?” she said. “Eve didn’t what? Didn’t show up?…Yes, I will take care of this, and I will send someone else today. My apologies.” She ended the call. “Look, I have to go,” she said to Bless. “I have some business to take care of.”