by Xyla Turner
Oh hell.
It hurt.
He had smacked my ass.
Another one, on the other cheek.
Oh, glory.
He was doing it again. Making me hot by spanking me. There was no counting, not even room for him to soothe the pain. Nope, he was smacking each globe. In upward, downward and sideways motions.
My clit was throbbing as if it were about to combust at any moment. My moan must have communicated that as well, because Warren pulled me up with his large hand around my neck. He made quick work of my blouse, snapped the bra off, then he proceeded to rip the thong.
Dammit.
Those were not on sale.
“You in pain?” he asked me in a whisper to my ear.
My head shook, then I mumbled out a “No.”
With one smooth move, Warren’s hand was off my neck and he swiveled so it was him that was entirely on top of the desk. It was then that he patted his thigh, letting me know where he wanted me.
“That juicy cunt is good and wet. I know from yesterday,” He nodded, letting me know through eye contact, precisely what was about to happen.
Like the addict I was quickly becoming, I climbed up on the desk, planted my feet on both sides of him and slowly sat down on his larger than life penis. It should have been called an hunis because it was a huge penis. My eyes closed as I began to twirl around to find more comfortable ways to take the man so deep inside of me and get used to the circumference of the base.
“Oh god,” I cried.
“Ride,” he grunted, while still sitting up and looking at me.
Warren was not a man to back down from a rough ride. He was front and center, my nipples rubbing against his button-up white shirt. His large hand grabbed my ass with two of his fingers circling my tighter hole.
“I said, ride.” He growled and I begin to do just that.
He let me do my own thing for awhile, as his eyes rolled in the back of his head several times. Then he would grunt a few times before thrusting up to meet me coming down. That felt better than good. By the time, I started biting my lip, was when Warren had enough. Both hands grabbed my waist, as he begins to take over. However, the quiet lover he was earlier, ceased.
“Fuck...you’re tight.” He grunted. “Thought about you all fucking night. Wanted you, needed you. Won't do that again. Don’t do that again. Can’t fuck after you wax but I liked it as it was. Don’t like bald pussies.” He thrust hard, then one arm left my waist and made its way to my back door.
One finger entered, then two and he pushed me up and down on both his dick and fingers. “This right here is all fucking mine.”
There was one more thrust and he pulled me off of him and squirted on my stomach again. He was out of breath and I was slumped over, with my head on his shoulders, out of everything. Those fingers were still fucking my ass, sending my orgasm to another level as my body shook with quakes of what he did to it. The cries of his name definitely had my throat raw.
“Bathroom,” he said in a quiet voice, but I just remained where I was.
“Babe.” He tapped my hip but after no movement, he lifted me, carried me to the bathroom and sat me on the faucet, where he cleaned me off with soap and water. My stomach, crotch and between my butt cheeks. After I continued to sit there, when he was done, he eyed me for a bit and raised an eyebrow. I lifted one back and that was when it was him, standing in between my legs as I was still sitting on top of the sink.
“Ready to work?” he asked.
This time, I grunted like he did and wrapped my legs around his enormous thighs. This move propelled him forward and a slight smirk emerged on his face when he said, “My little web designer has a greedy pussy, huh.”
Why that made me come to life from my sex haze, I’m sure it had to do with the crassness behind it. I unwrapped my legs from around him, then pushed him back, so I could get down. Warren didn’t get mad or even show the slightest bit of remorse. Actually, he roared with laughter. It actually made me stop to stare for a split second before I left the room, threw on my clothes, including my discarded thong and sat on the stool behind the desk.
There were post-it notes all over what he wanted and didn’t want, so I tried to follow them down the yellow brick road without calling on him much. That didn’t last for long but it was like Warren was in business mode now. It was a little disconcerting, but I went along with it and when one o’clock rolled around, I packed up and said, “See you. Tomorrow at one,”
“Need an address.” He told me and did not ask.
“Why?” I asked.
“Told you.” he shared as if he actually did.
“No, I need to know why.” I took a stand.
One eyebrow raised and then he leaned back in his chair. Warren nodded and turned his lips down, “Fatima, I will tan your ass later on. Get used to sitting now because tomorrow, you’ll be standing.”
A direct line to my lower regions sent the beating of my heart echoing in my entire body.
“See you like that.” His mouth pulled up into a smile. Then he shared, “Your wish, sweetheart, is my command.”
I shrugged, left went about my business for the rest of the day. I would see Mr. Warren tomorrow and this time I had a surprise for him.
What I didn’t know was the surprise he had for me.
Around three-thirty in the morning, a hard knock came on my door. Sounding like it was the police, I ran took a look at Warren was on the other side and my heart nearly dropped. Unlatching my deadbolts, I opened the door and looked up in confusion.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Tired,” he grunted and proceeded to walked in, while scooping me up in the process. Then he turned around, locked the doors, and carried me with both legs wrapped around him and one arm holding on to his shoulders.
“We’re?” I called. “What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep.” He laid me on the bed, dropped his clothes and climbed onto my mattress.
Chapter 5
Warren
I was tired and just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. Well, that was until I climbed into Fatima’s bed. She was asking all sorts of questions but I was too tired to answer any of them. However, when she finally settled and let me pull her in so I could sleep, her ass ended up in my crotch and one part of me came to life and the other followed suit.
“My girl’s greedy.” I murmured.
Her gasp told me just what I figured. She felt like I was scandalizing her by pointing out that she wanted me. That was far from the truth.
“I am not.” Fatima snapped back. “I’ve been celibate for three years.”
My mouth found her shoulder, so I could kiss it.
“Sweetheart, your greedy pussy has nothing to do with your celibacy. I’m talking about how much you want me.”
She didn’t say anything which said everything. I was right. So, I asked her, “you sore?”
The woman took to muttering which I took as a yes, so I decided to do something that could soothe the ache. Using my bulk, I tossed her top of me and pulled those boxer pajamas off her ass, then lifted to pull mine off.
“Ass. On my face.” I grunted as my dick grew harder.
I didn’t wait for her to understand I started moving her body to do what I needed. Her ass sitting on my face and her lips sucking on my dick. All drowsiness passed away as I sucked on her taut clit.
Her hips started to move around like she was about to release. Her mouth, those hips and her taste. She was too much at once. Her mouth took me deep and it wasn’t until she pulled off and moaned that she was about to cum, that I had enough.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “Fuuuccckk.”
My release was coming and she was back to sucking on me. Less than a minute later, I was coming in her mouth and my girl was sucking it down her throat. I could feel each gulp and movement of her throat swallowing my load.
That made me proud.
Fucking proud.
I used her juices with my two fingers and they moved them to her tight asshole. Fatima bucked and I wrapped my arm around her to keep her body still over me. She writhed and swirled more until she was coming again. Flipping Fatima over, I hauled her body back up against me and whispered against her lips.
“Feeling better?”
There was a slight moan, causing me to laugh and pull her against me. Her soft curves and smooth skin seemed to melt right into me. Sated was one word but Fatima was gone. Hell, so was I a few minutes after that. I came hard, she came hard and now we could rest.
***
The next morning, her stirring beside me woke me up. Her head wasn’t on my chest anymore, but this time it was her ass on my cock with her back to me. We were fucking spooning.
What was she doing to me?
She was awake, because that greedy ass was waking the beast in me. Last night I couldn’t take her how I wanted but she couldn’t be sore if she were asking for it.
“Got an itch?” I asked while turning her over so I was on top and spreading those legs.
“Yes,” she purred like a feline.
Fuck.
Each thigh was to her side as her body made a T. then I entered her and began to ravish the woman with a feral need. Pushing in and out as growls and moans left our bodies until the sweet release of heaven exploded for both of us.
“Oh my god,” Fatima murmured. “Well, Good morning.”
“Yeah,” I muttered back as I hit the bed. “Morning.”
She laughed and made her way to the bathroom to clean up.
Once I was able to gather my thoughts, I asked, “You on something?
“Yeah, the pill.” She said with a look over her shoulder before leaving the room.
Wanting to follow her but knowing I needed to stay still for a bit with all the energy that I had just put out.
The smells of breakfast entered the room and this had me moving to find Fatima. She was in the kitchen pouring pancakes on a griddle. I sat in her nook, where she asked if I wanted coffee or tea. Toast to hold me over until everything was done. Then if I wanted more than four pancakes. Pork eater or turkey.
I was sitting there, looking at her serve me and my heart fucking constricted.
She was casting her spell and I had nothing to fight the pull.
We ate the delicious breakfast comprised of eggs, pancakes and bacon. We both drank coffee, dark and mostly ate in silence. After she cleaned up the kitchen, Fatima walked past me but I grabbed her by the waist, kissed her lips as asked, “So what do you want from this?”
“What do you mean?”
“You, me. What do you want?”
She laughed and said, “I feel like this is a trick question.”.
My eyes met hers before I replied and said, “Yeah, it is. I don’t do relationships or shit like that. But we can continue to do this.”
Her face expressed a mass of emotions but she didn’t let any of them linger long enough for me to decipher. However, I felt that it wasn’t right.
“Okay.” Was her reply.
“That work for you!” I was honestly shocked.
I thought she might be a pie in the sky type person. Always looking for the romance in shit, when brown poop is merely that.
Shit.
“Okay,” she repeated.
I grunted, acknowledging what she said. Now that this was settled, there was the discussion about my businesses.
“Ass Up, Face Down is one of two parts. That’s the dancing club. Steel is the BDSM club and I’m working on a strip club. That will be three different entities that I own outright. My site for Steel should only be accessed by authorized users that have a protected and changing password, on an app that’s installed when they sign up. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I can.” She nodded. “I’ll create a secured site with encrypted code. We can go as far as people will need to log in using finger-print authentications with a moving code that matches their original site. That’s more advanced. Or if that’s too much hassle, then…”
I cut her off because that is exactly what type of security I wanted.
“No, that will work. Show me later on today.” I told her.
“Okay,” she agreed.
I grunted a response about the finality of that conversation, then rose to leave.
“See you in the office at one.”
Quickly, gathering my shit, I left to head to my place in North Philly. Shit had to be done, but I was glad that Fatima and I were on the same page.
Chapter 6
Fatima
I don’t do relationships or shit like that. But we can continue to do this.
Yes, that is what he said.
Greg had said a similar thing and somewhere I decided after dating for three years, buying a house together and planning a future together, we were on the same page. My asshole of a boyfriend had said, “commitment is tough. I like what we have right now. Let’s keep doing that.”
My mother might not have been the best example of a woman who knew her worth, but she was probably the best example. After the crying jags, when man after man walked in and out of her life for whatever the reason, she would tell me, you’re worth more. You deserve a prince and when he finds you, he’ll become a king and treat you like a queen. It might have been very fairy tales, but what she was making clear is that I would not have to go through life like her. She didn’t want that for me. I swear the woman died of heartbreak.
I was worth more than a fuck. I might not have been the best dancer, or video vixen with the most experience in the bedroom, but I was worth more than a fuck.
So, okay Warren. Okay, Greg. And okay to whatever other man thought it was okay to not commit. Or just kick it like I’m not thirty-six with drying eggs in my near future.
Yeah, okay.
Okay, they cannot commit by their damn selves. Fatima Lion would not be an active participant. My plan was to coordinate his website as fast as I could and then be done. His need for me would be over but that was fine too because I had no intentions of repeating history with round two of a non-committed man. That just was unnecessary and a waste of my time.
Later, that day I texted Warren to share with him that I’d have to work from home today, because I had to finish up some work for the church and another’s website.
There was no reply back, but he had one of his guys email me what was needed for the site. I completed the templates and sent them his way. We emailed like that until five in the afternoon, then I stopped and went to Manhattan to watch a movie by myself, since I had no friends in the area. Plus, even if I did none of them would have wanted to see Infinity Warr. When I returned home, I saw that familiar town car outside my door, so I remained where I was. Warren was here and waiting for me. He must have rung the doorbell, but since I wasn’t home, he was just waiting.
Oh hell.
After fifteen minutes of me watching him wait, I tried to think of a plan. I didn’t want to deal with him anymore and I should just tell him that, right? For some reason, I don’t think he’d actually listen to me, when I said that I was done with this. Well, he had no choice. I let steel take over as my spine and I held my head straight up and walked towards my apartment. The car door opened up and out stepped, the large, gorgeous and almost intimidating Warren.
“Fatima, where were you?” He asked with a deep growl.
“Out,” I answered back. “Can I help you?”
He blinked once, then nodded as if he knew what this was.
“So, last night was what?” He asked. “This morning was what?”
“Oh, you thought you were going to get it like that every night?” I tried not to laugh, because he did and so did I if I was honest.
A flash of anger crossed his features and he took one step towards me, but I finished my thought.
“This morning was this morning and now that’s over.” I shared and made a step towards my building.
“You said you were okay with it,” Warren added.
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“Never said I was okay with being fucked when you wanted. I said, okay, because we’re not on the same page and I can’t give you a fast-paced course to catch you up to where I’m at. So, I’ll do your website and we’re even.”
Warren took another step and acted as if he was going to say something else, then he nodded and went to his car. I went inside and decided that if I needed to watch five more movies to take my mind off of everything it was warranted.
It didn’t help because his words and the look on his face haunted me. No sleep came that night or would come but then I was reminded of Greg and I resigned within myself, that I dodged a bullet. A big one that would have torn my very soul apart. He had no concept of that but I did. I was in Philadelphia because of the last nightmare. I didn’t plan to move anywhere else because of this guy. No matter how good the sex, orgasms or how great I felt in his arms.
I worked hard to steel myself with this concept.
In three weeks, once the website was approved, rights turned over to him, he had not reached out to me in all of that time. Just worked through one of his men. However, he had other plans that I wasn’t aware of. During the fourth week, Warren issued a summons that resulted in one of his men coming to my door, and wouldn’t let me enter my apartment.
“Move,” I hissed.
“Sorry, Miss. We have orders. You need to come to the club or Mr. Warren will come to you.” He said in a matter-of-factly tone that warranted no bargaining.
I thought about arguing with him, but he looked like he was about to pick me up and pull me into the back of that long black limo. There was hardly anyone ever out on my block, for goodness sakes, it was the warehouse district of West Philadelphia. Not the place where happy families go to migrate.
Fuck, what was the worse he could do. It had been three weeks, I’m sure he was on to another girl by now. Had to be.
