by Xyla Turner
“Say it,” I told her.
There was a growl, but I pulled all the way out until it was only my thick head in her wet cunt.
“Say it,” I told her again.
“Okay,” she gave in.
“I said, fucking say it.” I slammed into her, making her cry out in pleasure.
“I’ll move in,” she said breathlessly.
“That’s my fucking girl,” I smiled against the side of her face and brought us both home as I ferociously fucked the shit out of her snatch.
That weekend, Fatima moved into my house in North Philly. There was no kicking and screaming but compliance and more orgasms, with the movers moving her shit, my thighs slapping hers as I took her in our bedroom where she yelled my name and came on my dick at the same time.
Ownership.
Pure and simple. When we resurfaced, I confidently helped the extremely quiet movers put her shit up and then prepared our lunch. Later, that evening, we sat on the deck where I grilled chicken breasts and toasted rolls. The night before I marinated the poultry, so it was tender and seasoned. I knew that it was good, when Fatima moaned her appreciation.
“These are good, Warren,” she told me.
“Glad you like ‘em,” I told her as I went for another sandwich.
“So, what are the house rules?” Fatima asked. “Expectations?”
My eyes rose to hers, so she could see the seriousness of what I was about to say.
“Your ass is in my bed every fucking night. You wake up to me every goddamn day. All the other shit will work itself out. You want to cook, then cook. Need to work, go ahead even if you don’t have to. I’m the one to take care of you. Everything you need, I’m your man, you come to me. You cum, on and around me and I’ll do the same, plus cum in every hole I fuck.” I shrugged. “Those are the only stipulations I have.”
Her eyes bore into mine, as I took another bite of my sandwich. She looked as if she wanted something, then she nodded and sat back.
“Spill it, babe,” I told her.
I’m horny,” she blurted out.
“Well, then get on your knees and get me ready. I’ll fuck your tight cunt till you pass out. You know this.” I nearly swallowed the rest of the food.
My girl wasted no time and by the time she unzipped me with my dick in hand, her mouth was sucking on the hot head. Tickling the slit with that tongue of hers and almost preventing me from snapping out of it, so I could fuck her mouth.
After a few moments of breaking out of the haze she created, I manage to take her fully then bend her ass over so I could fuck it. Her moans had to be loud enough to wake the neighbors, but my girl was horny and if folks had any doubt, the woman who just moved next door would get some on a regular.
Six Months Later
Fatima
My website business seemed to take off, so my daytime was filled with meeting clients and working on the sites. Warren had given me a room that consisted of accelerated WIFI, a work bike, so I could stay in shape with my own home office. The man was gruff, but so sweet when it came to me.
He’d been true to his word about his stipulations. In spite of the limited things he would let me do, I still maintained the house, so he wouldn’t need a house cleaner. I cooked breakfast and dinner, so he could eat when he got in and on Thursdays and Fridays, when I would deliver the food to him.
Warren wanted me to come to the club more often, but I really didn’t want to wear out my welcome. However, I knew that he would work later on his busiest nights, so I started to bring him food. He was strategic about his health and workout regime, so there was also limited options for him to eat near the Philadelphia club.
My mom was not so thrilled about the move since she hadn’t met him and the notion of him being a club owner, did not bode well for her. I didn’t really care because just like Warren had said, the man took care of me. Any and everything that I wanted or needed, he gave to me.
I couldn’t and didn’t ask for anything more. He, however, used other methods to extract information from me. On the way home, I gasped because I noticed that a billboard was advertising the new phone that had sensor capabilities allowing users to gain access to events, clubs or private forums by scanning the ‘under the skin’ encrypted code. I pointed to it as we stood idle at the red light.
“That would be great for the clubs,” I shared.
Warren looked up from circling his fingers around the inside of my palm. He often did this, which seemed to mesmerize me and calm me.
“That’s hot, especially for Steel.” He noted.
“Yeah, that can help increase the privacy of your clients,” I told him. “That would be ideal.”
Warren simply nodded and continued to circle his forefingers around my palm. The next day, I came to the club to see the machine there in the box.
“What’s this?” I asked, when I pointed to the giant contraption.
“For you to work miracles,” he shared.
That little gesture, had me dropping his lunch on the table and sashaying my ass over to him behind the desk.
“Yes, babe,” he looked at me with assessing eyes.
“Nothing much, just showing gratitude.” I put my finger in my mouth and watched his eyes dilate.
There was a hiss, then I slowly slid to my knees and murmured, “I want to swallow you.”
“Oh, fuck,” he looked down at me with heavy eyes. “You know what to do.”
I did.
Unbuckling his belt, losing his pants, pulling down that zipper, I moved in between his legs with his large cock in my hand and went to town. I never got used to his length or thickness, but I damn sure tried.
“Oh fuck,” he exclaimed, but I would not be deterred.
I said I was going to swallow him and I meant that. Gagging, slobbering and all. He loved it nasty, so I gave my man precisely what he wanted.
Midway through, Warren took over and was pumping his cock into my mouth with his head tickling the back of my throat. Soon, the grip on my hair, began to loosen and then he came, filling my mouth with his cream. I struggled to swallow everything but the man kept an extra pair of clothes in his office for just this occasion. I told him I’d get better at swallowing, but he loved the mess.
He trumped me though.
Six months after moving in, I was at the club during the day as the staff prepared for the rush that was about to happen during a three-day weekend. Ralph came to his office and said, “Skull wants you on the floor.”
“Sure, okay,” I replied and followed him downstairs.
As soon as my foot hit the bottom floor, music began to croon through the house speakers. It was soft music which was odd for the club, but it was sweet.
Warren was standing there in the middle of the floor with a smirk on his face.
“Come here, babe,” he said with a wave to move towards him.
I smiled while making my way to him. The man was no dancer or even a romantic. His idea of romance was making sure I came, which he did every time.
On the floor, he pulled me towards him and held me close. He didn’t sway or anything because Warren was no dancer.
“What’s going on?” I asked with a smile on my face, as I started up into his dark eyes.
The gorgeous specimen of a man, hard in all the right places and soft where I needed him. He was amazing. Warren looked at me for what seemed like an eternity, his arm tight around my upper and lower back. Then he nodded his head, as if he came to a conclusion and blurted, “Marry me.”
At that comment, I blinked, then choked out, “What?!?”
“You heard me,” he nodded. “Marry me.”
It was my turn to stare at him like he was from another planet. In Maryland, I left Greg who was afraid to commit and we’d been together for three years. We even purchased a house together and still nothing. At the last minute, the asshole changes his mind. Then, Warren, who basically seduced me with his naughty images, fucked me silly, moved me in and made me a part of his lif
e, now, within a year, he wants to marry me. What in the world?
“We haven’t even been together for a year,” I told him.
“Babe, I know what I want.” He nodded towards me. “Got no time for other shit. Don’t want other shit. Only want you. Marry me,”
He wasn’t asking. No, Warren didn’t really ask. He just told me and took. He also knew, I loved that about him. Decisive, controlling and strong. Every now and then, a girl needed that shit.
I thought of some more excuses and then I realized what he said. I was it for him. He’d never been married. His sister told me. According to Tellie, he said he didn’t want to get married. Never thought a woman would want that with him. Based off his mom and their toxic relationship. So, that is why he was all about me and him, holding on so tight and never letting go. That warmed my heart, because that’s what I didn’t have in my last relationship. Somebody that gave a damn, like I did.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” I told him and pulled on the sides of his crisp white shirt.
A small smile surfaced on his face, then it expanded as he seemed to hear what I said. I actually saw Warren’s teeth with that smile.
“She’s marrying me,” he said louder.
All of a sudden, there was loud cheering and yelling taken place all around me. His entire staff was surrounding us and even Tellie was there. Many of them gave us congratulations and Tellie shared that this was all her idea.
“Girl, the goal was for him to dance with you. I should have known Warren would do no such thing. The best I could do was get him on the dance floor and play some music.” She shook her head.
I laughed at that concept of Warren complying with any kind of request like that. Apparently, she overestimated her sibling influence. He loved his sister, more than anything, but there was no way. I was still shocked that the man proposed.
“Okay,” Warren barked. “Back to fucking work. Got shit to do.”
Everyone laughed but left because he does not play that and runs a pretty tight ship. I wasn’t sure if that was out of fear or respect but they all dispersed.
One year later
Warren
Steel’s reputation had widely grown over the past year. The exclusive site with the accompanying app that was only for members attracted some of the top politicians, business owners and local sports folks. When I saw Harvey Black’s name and his wife, I knew my shit was top notch. The man was no slouch with his shit. As a local Philadelphian, I had watched him go from minors to female sports to the professional leagues. And his fucking wife, well, she was just as ambitious as he was. They were a power couple.
The club was supposed to be anonymous, but as the owner, I knew everything. He even referred a British guy and another Philadelphia business owner. The guy was into hotels and his lady was into helping businesses get better or some shit. She was very popular in the area and on the rise. They frequented the club and so did the Blacks.
When the United States Senator, Geoffrey Bates, II walked into the club with someone that was not his frigid wife. That’s when I knew, there was more shit to this story. He had a son who was a firefighter in New Jersey, but had been on the social scene with a hot ass woman. I was in the business of fucking, but that shit always got muddied when people let the fucking consume them.
“What are you doing?” Fatima came up behind me as I watched over our son.
Her hand landed on top of mine as they rested on the crib, I saw the glistening rock, I had put on her finger. She said it was too much, but I ignored her.
“Looking at Junior,” I told her, but pulled her body into mine. “Fucking beautiful.”
“Like his daddy,” she said with a smile.
A grunt escaped me.
She was the beautiful one out of us. I was more of a beast. Though she would never acknowledge any of that talk from me. Fatima blamed my momma for that, therefore, she didn’t really engage the woman. Even Tellie steered clear of mom, since we were married and the woman did not come to the wedding.
“Fuck!” I hissed as I looked down to see that my girl had just bit my nipple.
I was standing in the baby’s room with no shirt on and tight, faded jeans. Fatima always said I looked like I was in an underground fight club, when I wore my, around the house, clothes. Her biting me, though. Meant, her greedy pussy needed to be fucked.
“You only get the dick if you let me suck on those tits,” I looked at my beautiful wife with pure lust.
“Warren, the milk is for Junior,” she whined.
“They will fill back up,” I discarded that comment. “I want you to squirt on me, while I fuck that sweet pussy. Then I’m going to suck you dry.”
“So goddamn nasty,” she writhed against me.
“Always,” I said while squeezing her ass. “Any fucking thing for you.”
The end.
I hope you all liked the short erotica novella. Warren and Fatima were on my mind this year, so I started to write about them. Then I fell in love with Harvey and Zora Black, (Take A Knee). Then I wrote Always Right (Noah and Maxine), the British guy, which takes place in Philadelphia as well. So, if you follow my books, you know, everyone is connected.
Now, I usually provide teasers in my books, but YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET SOME EXCLUSIVES!!!
“What,” you ask.
First few chapters of Always Right (not released yet, but coming soon)
First few chapters of Dream Ride: Legion of Guardians (not released yet, but coming June 19, 2018)
First few chapters of Love at All Costs: Stetson Series (not released yet, but coming soon)
First few chapters of Take A Knee
First few chapters of Cole
To know more about Harvey and Zora Black – read Take A Knee here.
To get a sneak peek of Senator Geoffrey Bates and son – read 10-24: Line of Duty Series. Click here.
To get a sneak peek of the British guy, Noah and Maxine – keep reading below and look out for Always Right.
Always Right
Unedited
Chapter 1
Maxine
“I said I wanted Margherita pizza,” I whispered to the small woman in the quaint Italian restaurant.
“What?” she says loudly in a thick Italian accent. “You ask for pizza. Here is pizza.”
“No, I asked for margarita pizza. You just gave me a cheese pizza,” I say a little more loudly because her English was so bad, I had a hard time understanding and figured she had trouble comprehending what I was saying as well.
“You ask for pizza,” she shared again, in a loud manner with her hands on her hips.
She picked up the silver tray with the wrong pizza on it as if she was going to take it back, then she dropped it back on the table, ending with a hard thud.
Wait, one goddamn minute.
All eyes were on us in the overly decorated Italian restaurant. There were bottles hanging from the ceiling, signs splattered all over the place with no rhyme or reason and pictures of what seemed like random people plastered all over. I should have known this was going to be a problem when I walked in and asked her if they had takeout. She asked me to repeat myself twice, then waved me off and said, “no, no.”
That should have been my first hint at this was probably going to be a problem. Customer service was a major pet peeve of mine. So much so, that I started an entire company to consults businesses on how to best appeal to their customers. That old say, the customer is always right. Well, I was a true believer in that. If it was for no reason, other than, they are spending their money for a service. They can do that anywhere, so why not have them do it at a business that will treat them right. Not like this Italian restaurant with one waitress, who I presume is the owner. She had to be in her seventies, with weathered skin and a scowl to match. The doors that I presumed led to the kitchen was fairly quiet, which made me think, she could probably be the cook too, since she made her rounds.
There were two couples, one family, one single guy and me in t
he entire place. It was no bigger than a New York apartment building, and I was nearly sitting on top of the couple and single older man, who was quietly eating his spaghetti and reading a paper.
“But, this isn’t the pizza that I asked for,” I said while lifting the pan and dropping it back down, but closer to her.
“You eat pizza,” the old woman snapped back. This had me standing up because clearly, it was time to leave this place. The man next to me had abandoned his dinner and paper and was focused in on our conversation.
Hell, everybody was.
“I’m not eating or paying for this,” I went to grab my coat but the crazy woman lifted the pan which held the pizza and slammed it down on the table again.
“Oh,” she grunted. “You pay.”
“Ha,” I laughed in a sarcastic, I’ll be damned if I do way. “I’m not paying.”
My body was leaned down to face the old tyrant because she was about to have Philly come out. I had worked hard to keep that part of me away. My strides towards earning a successful business, code-switching my way so that I could communicate in any arena, and making something of myself, since that’s what I was raised to do. I had done all of that, but this one act had me going deep back to my teenage years in Philly with my neck popping and finger-pointing. I was raised to respect my elders, but this lady was taking this to another level.
The scene was so heated that I failed to realize that the door had chimed, signaling that someone walked inside.
“What is going on?” I heard a deep voice, thick with a London accent.
It seemed that all eyes turned to the voice, which I realized was standing next to the crazy old lady, who was facing off with me. I looked up, to meet a deep set of green eyes, sharp features, a square jaw and a low haircut.
“Mum,” he called, to the woman but his eyes were on me.
