“Shit, Michael,” she fussed while his tongue worked her over.
His face had disappeared between her ass cheeks, and she was in heaven. Michael’s big hands kneaded and palmed her juicy lobes as he spread them apart and flicked his tongue up and down, in and out of her anus. He smacked her ass while he pleased her that way. Moaned like it was he who was being stimulated orally.
Summer was so into it that she started riding me. She was so wet . . . so wet and tight. My eyes were threatening to roll. I almost forgot that I was supposed to be helping her to relax. My hips rose, and I matched her bounce with a thrust of my own. Summer’s orgasms seemed as if they always belonged to me. Her love rained down on me before Michael even got to show her the other side of pleasure.
She whimpered, leaned in to kiss me, like she always did when she needed to catch her breath. Michael grabbed the lubricant from the nightstand. He talked to her as he used his finger to penetrate her. We both did. He told her that she was running the show. I kept kissing her lips. Made her comfortable enough so that when his head was aimed at her entrance, she didn’t flinch. Michael caged us underneath him. I knew when he slipped inside her, because her breath hitched.
“Shit,” she said aloud.
Michael was gentle. Kissed her neck, shoulder. Placed kisses around her shoulder blades. I kissed her cheeks. Placed my lips against her eyes, mouth. Made her give me her tongue as he slowly inched his way into her. I could tell he was bringing her alive in another way. She tried to speak and was able only to stutter.
“Tell me when,” he told her. His voice was low. A gentle tone that said he wanted her to be as pleased with his performance as he wanted her to be satisfied.
She nodded. “That’s . . . that’s enough for now.”
Michael’s face was a mask of pain and pleasure as he worked his hips gently. Bit by bit he gave her just enough to handle. Summer’s eyes watered. Michael’s breathing was labored. My dick was pulsating. We’d sandwiched her between us. Gave her double the fun. Double the pleasure. Michael’s thighs created friction with mine as we loved her. Summer was so gone. Asked Michael for a little more, then quickly recanted when she knew she’d taken on too much. He pulled out a little. Stopped stroking and placed kisses against her back again.
“I want to come,” he told her. “But not before you do. Will you come for me?” he asked her.
He made eye contact with me as Summer nodded. Kept watching me while he rode her. She sat up. Michael sank back on his haunches. I had to break eye contact because of the way she was riding me. I shut my eyes tight, as if doing so would stave off the intense need to let go and coat her walls with my DNA.
“Come for me,” she coaxed me.
I told her, “I am, baby. I am.”
That was the cue she needed. “I’m there, Michael,” she said.
“You’re coming for me?” he asked in return.
She nodded. Rocked her hips against me. Threw her head back and leaned into him. My hands caressed her waist. Slid up to massage her plentiful breasts. We all moaned in synchronized harmony. Michael’s facial expression was intense. He was into the moment like he’d never experienced it before. Like he was never going to experience it again. I knew that feeling. Summer’s vaginal walls were the stuff of legend, but the other pleasure orifice she owned had never been touched. It was tighter. Gripped Michael snugger and made his pleasure ten times more riveting.
“Jesus, this feels so good,” Summer whimpered. “Feels so damn good. Shit.”
This had to be what heaven felt like. We were in our own little slice of heaven. Burning with intense desire and satisfaction, like we owned it all. Not many people got to say they got a chance to be free and open with their sexual proclivities, but the three of us did. And we rode that wave of ecstasy until the wheels fell off.
Before I knew it, the TV had started watching us. Michael had joined Summer in a peaceful slumber. All of us were tired out from our adulterous affair. It had been fun, no doubt, but Summer and I had to get back to the real world. The world that didn’t involve Michael. We had to get back to the unanswered question. To the what-ifs and the hopes of us being together. Summer and I had to get back to what we once knew. We had to get back to the uncertainty that was our relationship. I fell asleep with thoughts of Michael’s and Summer’s texts to one another on my mind.
A knock on the hotel room door awakened me a few hours later. Michael and Summer didn’t even stir as the rapid knocking continued. I hopped up, grabbed my sweats, and threw them on.
“Who is it?” I yelled from the living room.
“Housekeeping.”
I frowned, trying to remember if we’d phoned down and asked for anything before falling asleep. I couldn’t recall. Grabbed my glasses and headed to the door. It didn’t dawn on me to think before snatching the door open. Didn’t even think to look through the peephole. I was one who didn’t like to be awakened out of my sleep so abruptly. I snatched the door open, ready to give the housekeeper a piece of my mind. I was prepared to let the scowl on my face scare whoever it was enough that this person would never wake a guest like that again. But what I wasn’t expecting was the woman standing at the door.
“David?” she inquired, then gave me the once-over.
There I was, standing at the door in only sweats that hung low on my hips. No shirt. Eyes droopy. And I smelled of Summer’s sex.
“Sadi?”
“What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Michael?”
I’d never been a man to be left completely without words, but in that moment, I had none.
Summer
I knew something was wrong before she even stormed into the bedroom. Maybe my internal fight-or-flight instinct had kicked in before I even laid eyes on her. I could hear her voice in my head. I thought I was dreaming. It took me a minute to realize I wasn’t. I woke up to somebody talking to me. Michael didn’t have emerald-colored eyes, and he didn’t have blond hair.
“Huh?” I asked her once my fog started clear.
“I asked you what the fuck you were doing in my husband’s hotel room,” she spat out at me. She stood there, with a look on her face that said she was ready to fight, if need be.
I looked to my right, where Michael had been lying, then at David, who had rounded the corner.
“Michael actually let us use his bed, because he couldn’t sleep,” David lied. “We came to visit. Got stuck here when the snow came.”
My eyes took in the Michael Kors handbag hanging from the woman’s arm. Saw the way her blond tresses fell over her shoulders like Paul Mitchell had hooked her up. The threads she had on for sure told she wasn’t some random woman. The big rock and the wedding band on her left ring finger made it clear who she was.
She looked from me to David, then back to me. There I lay, naked as ever, in the bed in her husband’s hotel room. She gave David the once-over. Let her eyes linger on his body for a second too long. I could tell in that brief moment she was reliving the time they’d had together.
“So why the hell didn’t he answer the door?” she asked him.
David glanced toward the bathroom. “I guess because he’s in the bathroom. That’s why I opened the door.”
I slowly sat up in the bed, then pulled the white sheet up to cover my nudeness partially. I wondered if the woman could smell her husband’s sex throughout the room. Michael was all over me. His scent had meshed with David’s and had created an aroma that was intoxicating.
Even if I’d lied and said I honestly didn’t know who her husband was, the fact that she had Michael’s name tattooed on her shoulder would have been a dead giveaway. The infamous Sadi had traveled to Atlanta to see if her husband was being unfaithful. Michael had mentioned how smart Gemma was, so I knew there was no way she wouldn’t tell her mother about the woman who had answered her father’s phone. I didn’t care what lie Michael had told her.
I heard the water come on in the bathroom and wondered if Michael had gone in there becau
se his body had told him to or because he’d heard his wife at the door. I wondered if he had jumped up from the bed like a scalded dog and had run for the hills. Wondered if he had forgotten about what the three of us had shared, had let it go in the wind, and had rushed into the bathroom just so his wife would be none the wiser about his adultery.
I didn’t know if Sadi was buying David’s story. She rushed over to the bathroom door. Slapped the palm of her hand against it in rapid succession about three or four times.
“Mike!” she yelled as she beat on the door.
Mike. She called him Mike, not Michael. She was familiar enough with him, comfortable enough to call him Mike. The same name she’d called him when she scolded him about being so familiar with himself the last time he was at my house. There was no doubt Michael had heard her, but he didn’t respond to her.
“Open this damn door, boy! I know you hear me,” she yelled.
Boy? My brows rose, I frowned, and I looked at David. He, too, had a frown on his face as he studied her. I slid from the bed, no longer caring about my nudity, as Michael opened the door. The look on his face showed his disdain for his wife. He scowled at her like she was his enemy instead of the woman he was supposed to love and cherish. David moved around the room to help me find the dress that I’d discarded long ago.
“What are you doing here?” was all Michael asked his wife. “And I’ve told you over and over again about calling me boy. You want to keep being disrespectful, then we both can travel that road,” he told her, then brushed past her shoulder.
He’d put on pajama pants and a T-shirt. Didn’t look as if he’d partaken in the best sex he’d ever had. Didn’t walk like he and I had sixty-nined while David had loved him from behind. He walked like a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and yet found a way to keep his shoulders squared and his eyes assuming.
“Well, maybe if you were acting anything more than what I called you, we wouldn’t have this problem. Who the fuck answered your phone? And don’t tell me that bullshit lie you told Gemma!” Sadi threw her words at him.
Michael took a deep inhale, looked at David, then glanced over at me. He stopped abruptly and looked intently at me, like it was the first time he had been privy to my nudity. I almost blushed under his heated stare, but just as quickly as he gazed at me as if he’d never seen me before, he turned his head.
David tossed me his dress shirt since we couldn’t find my dress quick enough.
“What the hell are you doing here, Sadi?” Michael asked her again.
“I told you,” she replied snidely. “Who answered your damn phone, Michael?”
No matter what she called him—Mike, boy, Michael—it all sounded the same coming from her. Sounded as if she had a bad taste in her mouth anytime she uttered his name.
Michael frowned hard as he turned around to look at her. “You left my kids in New York to fly all the way out here to ask me who answered my phone?”
Sadi tossed her handbag on the bed, put her slender fingers on her hips, and pursed her lips. “You’re damn right I did,” she proclaimed. “This makes the second time, the second time whoever the bitch is you’re sticking your dick in has answered your phone when you’ve been out here.”
I glanced at David. David looked pointedly at me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re overreacting,” Michael snapped at her.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” Sadi screamed. “This bitch answered your phone not once, but twice. So that tells me you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”
For all of that top five college education she had, her vocabulary had been reduced to profanity in her anger. I hadn’t answered Michael’s phone twice, so that must have been some other woman. I stared up at Sadi for a minute. It was like looking at Poppy Montgomery in the flesh. The only difference was Sadi was curvy. She made Ice-T’s wife look like a plastic Barbie. I would have never guessed Michael was married to a white woman. His children’s complexion gave no indication of it.
“Come on, Summer,” David said to me. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
“No, you don’t have to leave, David. You can stay around and witness the mess that is what we call a marriage these days. I’m sure he’s filled your ear on all he could about me,” Sadi said. “Did he tell you he’s screwing the slut in his Staten Island shop too? I know he is. Anytime I go to the shop, the bitch stares me down like I have the problem.”
I took David’s cue and rushed from the bedroom to get my stuff together. While David and I packed up, Michael and Sadi had a war of words in the bedroom. I kept glancing at David. He’d told me Michael and Sadi had an almost perfect marriage. I guessed the almost part was showing. The mood was a sobering one.
We heard when Sadi chuckled and said, “I can’t believe this, Michael. Not only are you fucking the girl at the shop in Staten Island, but you find a way to come all the way to Atlanta and screw another bitch too? What? Am I not nasty enough for you?” she asked her husband with disdain. “Does whoever she is do all the nasty shit you like?”
“You didn’t have to come here to do this.”
“Like hell I didn’t. I figure since we don’t talk at home, this would be perfect timing, and I don’t have worry about curbing my tongue because of our children. Now you tell me what the fuck is going on, or I’m going to proceed to show my entire white ass,” she yelled, threatening him.
“Talk at home? Are you serious? When I do try to talk to you, you act as if I’m bothering you or some shit. Always snapping, like just my presence annoys you.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so busy looking for sex everywhere else, you could see what’s right in front of you.”
Michael sighed and shook his head slowly as he stalked into the living room, where David and I were. “Sadi, stop. I don’t want to do this here.”
David quickly tossed me my coat after I pulled on the boots Michael had bought. Anytime Sadi mentioned Michael’s other women, it felt like an attack on me. Granted, I was one of the women she was referring to, but her words were sharper than a double-edged sword.
Sadi followed behind Michael. “You mean you don’t want to do it in front of David? No, I’m not going to stop,” she quipped, with a neck roll that looked like she was going to hurt herself. She charged at her husband. “I’m not going to stop,” she growled through gritted teeth as she swung at him. “Not going to stop until you tell me why!”
Michael grabbed her wrist, shook her as he yelled at her. “You put your hands on me again, and you’re going to get very familiar with what it’s like for a man to lay hands on you. Now, I said stop.”
Sadi didn’t listen, though. She tried to kick Michael. He picked her up by her arms like she weighed nothing and tossed her on the couch behind him. He dropped down, caging her in like a predator. His face was so close to hers, it almost seemed as if he was growling at her.
“Twice. Twice now you’ve come to Atlanta, and twice this bitch has answered your phone!” Sadi said to him. Her face was red, but she had no tears in her eyes. Just heated anger and resentment.
“She didn’t answer my phone twice,” Michael said, refuting her claim.
“Oh, so another woman answered your phone at four o’clock in the morning last time you were here? Damn, Michael, how many sluts does it take to make up one of me? How many to curb that nasty appetite of yours?”
I was standing there with a “deer in the headlights” look. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know if I should have turned away from the couple’s quarrel. I blinked slowly as David grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the madness. We left the suite with our bags and walked in silence to the elevators.
As other guests passed us in the hall, they looked from us back to the room we’d exited, as they could hear Sadi yelling too. They were curious. Wanted to know if I was the other nasty bitch Sadi was accusing her husband of screwing.
David held my hand tighter as we rushed into the elevator once it opened. He was protecting me. Guiding me away from the scene of the crime.
“We should have left earlier,” he said to me.
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Yeah, neither was I.”
“She always been that way?”
“In my opinion, yes, she has. She hides it well.”
I looked at my reflection and saw how disheveled I was. David’s shirt hung on me so loosely, I looked box shaped. I realized my tights were on inside out, and I still smelled like Michael. Both his and David’s scent lived in my skin. My eyes were red and puffy. Lips swollen.
“Yeah, you look like you’ve been fucked,” David said to me.
I looked at him in the mirror. We held eye contact for a long time. Our silence lingered loud around us.
“You say that like you weren’t one of the men who fucked me,” I responded.
“If that’s how you take it.”
I tilted my head, confused about his mood. “You mad?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“So what’s with the attitude?”
He looked away briefly, then back at me. “You didn’t tell me how much you and Michael had been communicating over the past few weeks.”
“I did too. I told you we’d been texting and talking. Told you he told me he wanted to come back to see us.”
“Didn’t tell me about the nudes.”
I swallowed as I ran a hand through my hair. “Didn’t know I was supposed to run a play-by-play of all our conversations,” I said, then stopped to think. “Wait, you went through my phone, David?” I asked, a bit perplexed.
He didn’t respond. That gave me my answer. I gave a light laugh and shook my head. Panicked inside about the fact that he had possibly seen the picture of Gemma.
“I can’t believe you went through my phone,” I said aloud to him, but I was actually talking to myself mostly. “Can I see your phone? Am I allowed to see what you and he talk about? Am I allowed to see the shit you send him?” I quipped.
Bi-Satisfied Page 24
