by Cairo
The night before their bus trip, she baked a big batch of double-chocolate chip cookies and fudge brownies, adding in a whole box of laxatives. Then she drove them over to her house. They sat and laughed and talked for a while, then our mother got in her car and drove back home. The next day they were all on the bus on their way down to AC when Miss Janie’s stomach started bubbling.
“Ohmygod, yes,” Paris says, laughing. “And the poor woman ended up shitting on herself that day because someone else was taking forever to get out of the bathroom. And they couldn’t turn the bus around because they were already halfway there.”
“And then Mom had the nerve to get up and slap her face.”
“After she told Aunt Fanny and them that she wasn’t going to get on that bus and act a fool.”
Paris and I are hysterically laughing. “Miss Janie had the shits for two days after that.”
“I know, right,” Paris says, wiping tears from her eyes. “Ohmygod, we have no business laughing at that woman like this.”
“And then Aunt Fanny said she had heard that Miss Janie’s asshole was enflamed and on fire for almost a week from all the wiping she had to do.”
We keep laughing.
“Mom was so wrong for that,” Paris says.
“Yes, she was,” I agree. “But, that goes to show you just how messy she could be. And she’s still messy.”
“Oh, so this is where the party is,” Porsha says, standing in the middle of the doorway with her hands up on her hips. She is still in her skirt and heels. “You heifers up in here cackling and sipping on yak while I’m out slaving over tax forms. This shit ain’t right.”
“Oh, hush,” I say, grabbing a pillow from off of Paris’s bed and tossing it at her. She catches it, throwing it back at me. “How was work?”
“Oh, it was fabulous,” she says, smiling. Is that a twinkle I see in her eyes? “I made about twenty-eight hundred dollars today. And I had a delightful working lunch with a potential client.”
I raise my brow, smirking. “It must have been some lunch ’cause, girlfriend, you have that just-got-fucked-good glow.”
She lets out a laugh, shifting her eyes. “Oh, please. I wish. I’m feeling good; that’s all. Anyway, what were y’all in here cackling about? I could hear the two of you all the way downstairs.”
“We were laughing at the time Mom gave Miss Janie the shits for two days.”
Porsha laughs. “Ohmygod, no. That was some funny mess. Why’d you have to bring that up? I felt so bad for her.”
“I don’t know why,” I say, waving her on. “Miss Janie was messy, too. She knows she was dead wrong for smiling up in Mom’s face like that, knowing damn well she was sucking Daddy’s cock every chance she got. I’m sorry. She crossed the line doing that. I would’ve given her the shits, too.” Porsha and Paris continue laughing. “I remember overhearing Mom on the phone, saying, ‘Every time she wipes her ass, she’ll think about how she shitted on me by fucking my husband.’”
The three of us are practically clutching our sides from laughing so hard at the thought. Suddenly, Porsha stops laughing and looks at Paris, then me. “Wait a minute...” she twirls a finger in the air. “Bedroom. Drinks. And you had lunch with Mom earlier today.” She squints, looking at me. “And you’re up here making her laugh. What in the hell did Mom say now?”
“How ’bout you get outta them clothes first; fix yourself a drink...better yet, bring up the bottle,” I say, gulping back the rest of my drink. “Then come sit with us so you can get the scoop, boo.”
It doesn’t take long before the mood shifts and the three of us are all comfy sprawled out on top of Paris’s king-size bed, listening to Paris paraphrase everything she told me earlier. Porsha looks stunned. “Damn, I don’t even know what to say about all of that.”
“What can you say? I mean, really. Not a damn thing,” I say, feeling myself becoming agitated all over again. “That’s how she feels, then that’s how she feels. We make our own money; pay our own bills. And own our own shit. We don’t ask her for a damn thing. So she doesn’t have to leave us a motherfucking thing. I’m telling y’all, that bitch is crazy.”
Porsha and Paris gasp. “Ohmygod, I can’t believe you called her a bitch,” Porsha says, covering her mouth in shock.
“Persia, you done gone too far now,” Paris says. “You didn’t have to call her that.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. Believe it. That’s how I feel. At least I didn’t say it to her face. Not that I won’t if she ever brings it to me like that.”
“You go right ahead,” Porsha says. “And you’re gonna end up with more than your face slapped, again.”
“Rightfully so,” Paris agrees. “You remember what happened the last time you called her that. I thought she was going to kill you for sure, if Daddy hadn’t come home when he did.”
Porsha winces, then cracks up laughing. “Oooh, I felt that ass whooping myself.” I suck my teeth at Paris for bringing that horrible night up. I was fourteen. And, as usual, our mother and I were arguing over me not being allowed to go outside because I didn’t do my chores. One word led to another and before I knew it, I had called her a bitch. Although I had mumbled it under my breath, she had heard it plain as day.
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“You heard what I said,” I snapped with a hand up on my hip. Yes, I thought I was grown. Then I repeated it. The words rolled off my tongue as smooth as cream. The next thing I remember is being down on the floor with her on top of me, beating me like a chick from the projects. Suburbia went out the window, and the hood came in. She fought me like I was her worst enemy. And I tried to fight her back. However, she was much stronger than I anticipated. So I did the only thing a girl could do in that situation. I bit her. And that only made her more furious. I remember Paris and Porsha screaming for her to get off of me, yelling that she was going to kill me. She probably would have if our father hadn’t come in when he did. When he finally pried us apart, I had a busted lip, two black eyes, and my nose was bleeding. She had a long scratch across her neck and she was bleeding from where I bit her. I had to stay home from school for almost two weeks until my face healed. But the two of us couldn’t be left alone together.
“And you got to go with Daddy on the road,” Porsha says, shaking her head. “Ohmygod, Paris and I were so mad at you for getting to go across country with him.”
Paris laughs. “Well, it was that, or you ending up riding in the back of a hearse ’cause Mom really wanted to kill you.”
I grunt. “Well, I’m sad to announce this, but this time I would beat her down, mother or not. I’m a grown-ass woman, now. And I have had it with her.” They both look at me like I’m crazy, or drunk. “Don’t look at me like that. I mean it. I will toss her up if she ever tries it.”
Porsha pats my leg, laughing. “Persia, sweetie, I think you’re okay. Mom practically avoids you at all costs. She realizes you’re a little nutty, boo.”
“And so she should.”
Paris tilts her head. “Bitch, you don’t need anything else to drink tonight. Calling Mom out her name like that was messy.”
“She’s messy,” I say. “She always has been. But she tries to act like she’s not. And she has the nerve to disrespect us. So she deserves to be disrespected. But, let’s drop this shit. I don’t wanna talk about her anymore. We need to snap you outta this funk, girlfriend. And I know exactly what will do it.”
She smirks, knowingly. “And what’s that?”
“Some good-ass dick,” Porsha and I say in unison. The three of us laugh, giving each other high-fives.
“I’m gonna call Calvin. I almost forgot he sent me that message on Facebook the other day saying he’d love to see us. He’s in town visiting his mother for the next week or so. So, no time like the present to get reacquainted with his freaky-ass. Y’all game?”
“Count me in,” Porsha says, pouring herself another drink.
Paris shrugs. “I guess.”
I walk out, leaving the two of them sitting on the bed, pouring drinks, laughing and talking about the other fights Mom and I had growing up. Some of them funny; others real nasty, like the time I tossed a hot cup of coffee into her lap. Or the time I started throwing dishes at her for trying to make me rewash dishes that weren’t even dirty. I fucked that kitchen up.
I hear Porsha say, “I thought the two of them would end up killing each other for sure.”
Paris laughs. “Persia’s ass was crazy.”
“Shit, what you mean ‘was’?” Porsha questions, laughing with her. “She still is.”
“I heard that,” I yell out, laughing along with them. Yes, I was definitely the wild child out of the three of us. And yes, I was the one our mother had to watch out for. And I still am.
Pain
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bound and blindfolded, I brush my lips against his lobe, whisper in his ear. “Are you gonna submit fully and completely to me?”
He nods his head. “Yes, my beautiful mistress.” Although he knows I am not a real mistress—nor have any intentions of ever being one, I enjoy pretending that I am. And he likes pretending that I am, too.
At six-two, two-hundred-and-ten pounds, Calvin is a dark-chocolate delight with his lean, toned, muscular body and deliciously fat, Hershey-colored cock. As masculine and aggressive and rugged as he is, it amazes me how he transforms into a submissive man-toy behind closed doors. It is his acceptance into his role that has me creaming in my panties.
I smile, reaching into a bag of ice and pulling out a miniature cube, then gliding it over his left nipple. “Good ’cause tonight you’re in for the time of your life.” He shivers. “Too cold for you?”
He shakes his head. “No, Mistress Pain.”
I slowly swirl the melting ice over and around his nipple while pinching the other one. His body shudders, briefly. I’m sure in response to the painfully chilling reality that the unknown and unexpected will follow.
I reach for the surgical tape, ripping off a strip with my teeth, then tape the ice to his left nipple. He flinches. I do the same to his right nipple. He flinches again, and his hard dick bounces up and down in response.
Porsha comes into the room, naked. Her silky skin shimmers from the glow of the candles flickering around the room. Without speaking a word, she looks at me and nods, then drops down in front of Calvin and wraps her mouth around his dick. She sucks him slowly at first, then picks up the pace, causing slurping and popping sounds to emit from her mouth. Calvin moans. The ice is slowly melting. Cold streaks of water are running down his chest.
Five minutes into Porsha’s head service, I signal for her to stop, then instruct Calvin to lift up in his seat. I squeeze out a glob of Platinum wet, then spread it in and around his asshole. His hole puckers.
“Yeah, you want me to finger-fuck that tight, little hole, don’t you?”
He nods. “Yes, my lovely mistress. I submit to you. Your commands are my wish. Anything you demand of me, I seek to please you.”
Porsha rolls her eyes up in her head. I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me the finger. I slip a finger into his ass. He tenses. His hole grips my finger, attempts to push it out. “Relax,” I tell him, pushing my finger back in. Slowly, he relaxes and loosens up and allows me to finger him. His dick springs up and down. It is clearly an act he enjoys. I work a second finger in.
“Aaah, shit,” he moans.
“You like that?”
“Mmmhmm...oh, shit...”
I smile. “I’m so glad you said that,” I say, pulling my fingers out, then unlocking his left hand. I reach into the bag for another piece of ice and place it in his hand. “I want you to put this cube of ice into your ass.” He hesitates. “Did you not understand me?”
“Yes...Mistress.” Reluctance clings to his words.
“Do you not wish to please me?”
He nods. “Yes.”
I slap his ass. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, my mistress.”
“Much better. Don’t have me remind you of your place. Did you not say my command is your wish?”
“Yes, my mistress.”
“Then do as you are told and you shall be rewarded.” He leans forward, squatting as if he’s about to take a shit, then reaches back and attempts to stick the cube into his ass. Its coldness causes him to flinch. I get impatient and slap the ice out of his hand. “You must want your mistress to get angry, don’t you?”
“No, Mistress Pain.”
I hand him another piece of ice. “Then try it again. And now you’ll have to put three cubes in instead of one for taking too damn long.” He finally pushes it in. He grunts. “That’s a good slave boy.” I hand him another piece. Porsha looks at me, mouth agape, shaking her head. I ignore her look of shock. “Now put this piece in.”
His body jerks. And my patience is running low. “Hurry the hell up before I add two more cubes on top of the three.” The thought of having five ice cubes stuffed in his ass seems to motivate him to hurry this shit up. When he pushes the second cube in, I hand him the last one. He pushes it in, grunting. I tell him to sit down. “I know it’s cold, but the fire in that hot ass of yours will melt it soon enough.” I cuff his hand again. He squirms in his seat. Porsha snickers, popping an ice cube into her mouth, then dropping back down in front of him, taking his dick back into her mouth.
He yelps, squirms in his seat. “Aaaah, shit...oh fuck...”
I yank off the tape from his nipples, taking a piece of ice in both of my hands, then leaning over him and pressing the ice up against his nipples.
He shivers and jerks. “Aaaah...Ohhh...oooooooooh...ahhhh, fuck!”
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes...aaaaah...aaaah, fuck...ohhhhh, shit!”
I glide the ice cubes in circular motion over his nipples, zigzag across his chest, then up along the sides of his neck before tossing the ice in an empty cup. I allow my cold, wet fingers, to trace his shoulders, then travel back down his chest. I pinch his nipples. “You like how Passion’s sucking your dick?”
“Yes...uhh...oh, yes...fuck...”
He squirms in his seat. My pussy begins to quiver and drip at the thought of him having a sweet and excruciating ass freeze. I lean into his ear. “Ooooh, my pussy’s so wet. Clench your ass muscles around that ice.” His body shudders in pleasure, again. There’s a distinct difference between a shudder of pleasure and one of discomfort. He tosses his head back and loudly moans. The combination of ice melting out of his ass and causing a puddle in his seat and the melting ice out of Porsha’s mouth dripping down his cock, Calvin is experiencing a delicious agony until she abruptly stops sucking his dick, standing up. She walks over to the wooden table and retrieves a condom. She tears open the wrapper, then walks back over and rolls it down onto his aching cock. Porsha is ready to offer him her cunt. And his hard, eager dick is ready to take it. With her back to him, she reaches underneath her and positions the head of his cock at the mouth of her pussy, then sits down on it, slowly rocking her hips, accepting him into bliss.
“Aaah, shiiiiit...”
“You like Passion’s hot pussy?”
“Oh, fuck, yesssss!”
She lets out a moan.
“Is that dick good, Passion?”
“Oooh, yes,” she moans, leaning forward and grabbing her ankles. She bounces her ass up and down on him, causing it to clap around his cock.
I pinch my nipples. “Oooh, fuck him good, Sis.”
He leans his head back, his mouth parted. I bring my nipple to his lips a
nd he takes it into his warm mouth and sucks it. A string of pleasure threads its way down my spine and around my clit.
I step out of my panties, then stuff them into his hungry mouth. “You like how my panties taste?” He nods and grunts. “Good. Chew my pussy juices off them. And when you finish, I’ll feed you this wet pussy. Would you like that?”
He nods, moaning and grunting. I remove his blindfold. Allow him to see. Allow him to watch Porsha’s rhythmic movements up and down on his dick. I unlock his hands. Free them so they can roam her body. He caresses her skin, glides his hands along the curve of her hips, then grips her waist. He stretches his legs out and greets Porsha’s pussy with hard, deep thrusts.
She greets him back.
“You like that pussy?” I whisper in his ear, pulling my panties out of his mouth with one hand, and pinching his nipple with the other.
“Oh, shiiiit, yeah...it’s some good-ass pussy.”
“Fuck her good, then. Show me how good that pussy feels to you.”
He piston-fucks Porsha until the both of them are sweating and panting and moaning.
Watching the two of them fuck has my cunt slick with my juices. I reach over and grab my mini-vibrator from the tray, turn it on high, and slide it over my clit, then dip it into my slit.
Paris finally walks in and Porsha lifts up off his dick; allows her to straddle him. Calvin watches excitedly. Yet, no words are spoken. He knows he is to speak when spoken to.
She breathes warmly on his ear and tickles his earlobe with her tongue. “Watching from the other room has gotten me soooo horny for your cock.” She reaches in back of her, strokes his dick. “Mmmm, your dick is so hot and heavy. I can’t wait to feel it deep in my tight ass.” She nips at his ear. “Put your dick in my ass, baby.”
Porsha and I both blink, then glance from her to each other, stunned at what we’ve just heard. Calvin’s eyes light up. He is surprised as well. “You want my dick in your ass?”
She coos in his ear. “Yes, baby. My fat...tight...hot...juicy ass. What, you don’t want to feel my tight ass wrapped around your dick?”
