by Cairo
“Damn,” he huffs, clearly disappointed that I am not welcoming him with open arms. “Can I at least get a hello, before you start snapping?”
I tap my foot. Count to ten. “Jarrod, I’m going to ask you one more time. Why the hell are you at my door without being invited here?”
He leans up against the frame of the door. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. It’s been a minute since we chilled so—”
“So you thought you would drop by for some pussy,” I say, cutting him off. “Humph, wrong answer, sweetie. I’m not running a whorehouse.”
“Oh, yeah.” He smirks. “Well, I can’t tell.”
“Nigga,” I snap. “Unless you’ve miraculously gotten some extra meat on your dick, I’m not interested.”
He twists his lip, scrunches his face up. “Say what?”
I repeat myself.
“Oh word? But you wasn’t saying all that when I had you twisted up like a pretzel, banging your guts out.”
I laugh. “Nigga, get a grip. The only thing you did was poke around in my pussy.”
“You a real bitch, you know that?”
“Yep, I sure am,” I say, smiling. “But I got some good pussy. And your silly ass will never feel the inside of it again. Now get the fuck away from my door before I call the cops on your delusional ass.” I slam the door in his face.
“Fucking bitch,” I hear him say before, punching my door with his fist.
I sigh, shaking my head. It never ceases to amaze me how some niggas act like bratty, little boys when they don’t get their way, pouting and stomping off, having oversized tantrums.
Now, I’m the last person who likes a bunch of mess in her personal space, and making a scene is an absolute no-no. But this fool has lost his damn mind. I snatch my house phone from off the coffee table, racing towards the door. I swing it open and rush outside, catching him before he gets into his Benz. “Nigga, bang on my motherfucking door like that again, and see what happens.”
“Or what?” he snaps, walking back towards me.
Oh shit, I think. The last thing I want is some nigga beating, no, change that—trying to beat—my ass out here, but I know—well, at least I think—he isn’t crazy enough to put his hands on me. The last thing he wants is to have his spot blown up when he has a woman at home. But a nigga with a bruised ego is likely to do almost anything.
“I know you are not trying to come at me,” I say, pressing the first number for 9-1-1. He stops in his tracks, putting his hands up in mock surrender.
“You know what, take your ass back inside,” he snaps, walking back to his car. “I ain’t beat for your dumb ass.”
I silently let out a relieved sigh. “Good. And make sure you don’t bring your pencil-dick ass around here again ’cause if you do, you’re going to find your ass locked the hell up.”
“Whatever,” he snaps, slamming his car door and starting his engine. “I should have never fucked with your ho-ass in the first place.” He starts backing out of my driveway, then screeches off down the street like a raving lunatic.
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with these niggas out here. I look up into the sky, searching for a full moon. And what do you know? There it is, as bright as day. I shoulda known, I think, heading back into the house. You always got motherfuckers tripping.
Wait a minute. I know what some of you are thinking. You think I could have handled that better; that I shouldn’t have come out of my face like that with him. And you’re right. I could have. But I didn’t. So what! Bottom line, every man I fuck knows from gate that if he ever comes to my house uninvited, he runs the risk of being cursed the hell out. So he had better proceed with caution.
Now before you open your mouth to say something sideways—like he should have punched my grill in; like someone is going to beat my ass; or some other crazy-shit like that. Let’s be clear: I don’t give a damn about any man who can’t follow instructions, especially a cheating-ass one. I’m not going to sugarcoat shit when it comes to my house rules. It’s my home, my pussy, and my damn way! And if a nigga doesn’t like it, he can carry his happy-go-lucky-creeping-ass back the fuck where he came from. And that’s what it is.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some dick to prepare for. I need to make sure the cat box is fresh for tonight’s suck-and-fuck festivities. So, toodles!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Two hours later, a sweet, funky scent of hot, sticky, sweaty fucking fills the air. My hair is saturated and plastered around my face. Beads of sweat are rolling down my back, sliding into the crack of my ass. Wade and I have been fucking nonstop, like two wild beasts in heat. I am riding his thick pole, my pussy churning as I crash down onto his dick. I fuck him as if my life depends on it, as if his does. Ride him as if there is no tomorrow, as if there are no cares. And for the moment, there are none.
There are no words spoken between us. Just grunts and groans and moans of passion. I lean over, press my hardened nipples against his hard chest and allow him to slip his wet tongue into my hungry mouth. I suck on it as if it were his dick, feeling heat and ecstasy rising up within me. In unspoken words, we are both aware that this will be the last time we ever share in this sexual bliss.
I slowly, seductively, grind my pussy up, then down, the length of his dick. Then rotate my hips back up and down it again, milking him one inch at a time.
“Ah fuck! Goddamn, you know how to ride this dick!” he shouts. His eyes roll up in the back of his head as he grips my waist. A sly grin parts my lips. ’Cause I’m the Man Handler, baby. And I was born to slay the dick.
“Yeah, you like this pussy, don’t you?”
“Ah yes…oh, shit…”
“You like how I wet this big dick, don’t you?”
“Hell, yeah, baby…”
“Show me how much you want this pussy,” I demand.
I stop moving my hips, and allow him to rapidly thrust his hips upward, deep into my sopping hole, stretching the back of my pussy, smashing against the mouth of my womb. I gasp, choking back a scream.
I tighten my pussy around his dick, grasping and pulling him deeper into my honey-coated, cum-slick abyss.
“Oh, shit,” he moans. “Aaaah, fuck. This pussy’s good.”
“Sssh, no talking unless I speak to you,” I warn in between another moan.
“Fuck me…”—he continues slamming his dick up into my pussy—“Mmmm…that’s right…like that…fuck this pussy…”
His dick slashes into my hole, pulling open my thick pussy lips, causing a throbbing in my clit. I arch my back, toss my head back and bounce up and down on his cock, matching his thrusts, riding the swell of another orgasm.
Wade leans up on his forearms, his gaze locked on the pleasure painted on my face. I bite down on my bottom lip. Let out another moan. And in one swift motion, he lifts up and rolls me over with his dick still buried inside of me, spreading open my thighs with his legs. He reaches up under me and cups my ass, squeezing each ass cheek while pumping his massive dick in and out, around and around, stirring my pussy, caressing my walls with each stroke.
“Oh, shit,” he moans again. “Ah, fuck…this pussy’s so wet…”
I wrap my left leg around his waist, then toss my right leg up over his shoulder as he fucks me, giving him access to every nook and corner my pussy has to offer. “Oh, yes…oh yes…fuck me,” I moan.
I grab his muscled ass, pull him deeper into me. Our bodies fuse together by a blazing fire ignited by lust. Sweat drips from his face onto my chest as he rises up on his arms, bracing his hands on either side of me, twisting and snapping his hips into me. His face contorts.
“Fuck me,” I urge. He slams harder. “That’s right, nigga, fuck my pussy. Make my pussy nut…”
“Ah, shit, fuck…yeah…”
I moan.
He moans.
His dick is pulsing. I can feel the heat coursing through the length of him racing to the tip of his engorged head. His rhythm quickens; his thrust bec
ome longer and deeper. I smile, knowing he is about to cum. My pussy milks his dick, slurps it in.
“Ah shit…I’m getting ready to nut,” he groans, quickly pulling his dick out of me and yanking off the condom. He slips two fingers into my pussy, finger-fucks me. I bend at the knees and pull my legs up to my chest, giving him my basket of goodness, as he rapidly strokes his cock over me.
“Oh, give me that nut, daddy,” I coo, licking my lips. “Let me see that big dick spit that milk, baby.”
He scoots back some so he can align his dick with its target. He is aiming for the opening of my purring pussy.
“Yeah, daddy, bust that hot nut all over my wet pussy,” I whisper, gazing at him through slits of lust. “Give me that sweet dick milk.”
“Ah, fuck…ah fuck…yeah…I’ma spit this nut all over that pretty hole.” He grunts, and shakes as he shoots a hot, thick, creamy nut all over the front of my pussy. “Oh, fuck…ah shit…” He continues stroking. “I feel another nut coming,” he moans.
I thrust upward. Run my fingers along the slit of my pussy, smearing his sticky treat into my pubic hairs. “That’s right, bust that nut, baby.”
I keep my eye on the prize. Watch him as he rapidly jerks himself. The head of his dick swells, then white cream oozes out of its eye like molten lava from a volcano before it erupts, ejecting his nut in hot, thick spurts.
I let out a moan.
“Oh, shit…oh, shit…” He continues stroking himself, and another nut squirts out onto my stomach, then titties. His dick continues erupting one nut after the other, soaking up the neatly trimmed patch of hair surrounding my pussy.
I twirl my hips; rub his load of cum into my skin; grind my ass down into the mattress as he is smearing his cum all over my slippery clit, and into my pubic hair. He is still holding his dick in his left hand, stroking out another nut. And I am grabbing his greedy fingers, pulling them, and his hand, into my wetness. I let out a deep, heavy moan. I am on the brink of another orgasm. Wade senses this, and begins to flick my clit with his thumb, then presses down on it. I let out a deafening scream, and cum in a thunderous roar.
I lie here for a moment, allow myself to savor the moment, then quickly jump up and out of bed. I don’t wait for him to lie down and roll over on his side. There is no time for getting comfortable. No time for drifting off into a peaceful, fuck-induced slumber. I get out of bed, and turn the lights on, blowing out the candles that have burned down to almost nothing. He understands what this means. Get your shit, and go!
“Thanks for the nut,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him, heading towards the bathroom.
“Anytime,” he says. “Damn, that pussy felt good.”
I smile, grabbing two hand towels from out of the linen closet. “So was that dick,” I say back. I catch my reflection in the mirror as I wet the rags with hot water and liquid Dial soap. You a bad bitch, I think, smirking. I turn off the water, and return to where Wade is now sitting—on the edge of the bed. I hand one of the towels to him.
“I guess this means I can’t shower here,” he says, looking up at me.
“Basically,” I say, sitting down next to him.
“I can dig it. It’s all good,” he says, wiping his dick and balls clean. I hold my hand out for the towel when he is done, handing him the other one. He wipes his face and neck with it, then gets up and walks towards the bathroom. I listen as he pulls the lid up, hitting the toilet water with heavy streams of piss.
I sigh, glancing over at the digital clock. 10:42 p.m.
He washes his hands, then returns to where I am sitting. He stands in front of me; his shiny dick dangling over his large balls. I shift my eyes, lock them onto his. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead.
“I guess this is it.”
I nod. “Yes, it is. What we shared has run its course.”
“So, why’d you let me come over?” he asks, studying me.
“Do you want me to keep it real with you?”
He nods. “Most definitely.”
“’Cause I wanted to feel that dick inside of me one last time,” I admit, standing up to face him.
“It doesn’t have to be the last time,” he says cautiously, almost pleadingly.
“For me it does.” I step into his space and touch the side of his face. “I only wanted you to fuck me.”
He grabs his semi-erect dick. “And did I rise to the occasion?” he asks, grinning.
“With flying colors,” I state, smiling back at him. I give him a serious look. “Wade, I want you to know that I think you are a great catch. You’re handsome. Intelligent. Driven. Ambitious. You have a great body and”—I glance down at his now rock-hard dick—“an amazing dick. One day, I know you’ll meet someone who can appreciate all the things you bring to the table.”
“But that someone isn’t you, right?” he asks, but it is meant as a statement.
I shake my head. “No. And it never will be.”
“That’s really too bad,” he says, shaking his head. “But I have to respect your decision.”
I shrug. “Maybe it is. I only know you deserve more than what I can give you.”
“Look, baby. I’m cool with only fucking you. It doesn’t have to go any further than that. Yeah, I got caught up in my feelings, but I’m cool. Like I said, we can keep it to me strictly sticking this dick in you, then bouncing. No questions asked.”
I purse my lips, then part a sly grin as my eyes slowly travel over his nipples, to his abs, his navel and between his thighs, to his beautiful, mouthwatering dick.
“No questions asked?” I ask, looking him in the eyes. “Just fuck and go.”
He nods. “No questions asked; just two horny adults fucking,” he assures me. I open up the nightstand drawer and pull out another Durex condom, handing it to him. He grins.
“Oh, word?”
I walk over towards my dresser with the mirror, bend over and spread open my ass. I speak to him, looking in the mirror. “This is your test. I want you to yank me by the hair, slap my ass, and fuck me from the back deep and hard.”
He rolls the condom over his dick, walking up behind me. “And if I pass?”
“Then maybe you can keep fucking me on demand.”
“Baby,” he says, slapping my ass. “I have no problem fucking you anyway you want it.”
“And when you’re ready to cum, I want you to spray your nut all over my ass. Then put your clothes on and get out. Can you handle that?”
“No doubt,” he says, dipping at the knees, then rubbing the head of his dick all over the back of my still wet, tingly pussy.
“Fuck me,” I urge in a throaty whisper. He wraps a fistful of my hair in his hand and yanks my head back, slamming his dick so hard and deep into me, I think he’s going to knock my uterus off the hinges. I moan. “Yes. Yes. Like that. Beat my pussy up, nigga.”
He places his left hand on my shoulder, then alternately slaps each ass cheek, purposefully pumping himself in and out of me in deep, rapid succession. I match his rhythm, rotating my pussy, slamming my ass back onto his dick. I can feel every inch of his cock inside of me, stroking and stretching me. My body trembles as an orgasm begins to swirl through my body. Wade grabs me by the waist, his hands gripping tightly on either side of me, and bangs the shit out of me.
“Ah…ah…yessssssss…fuck me!”
“Ah, shit, this is some good pussy.”
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I chant.
Wade grunts, then abruptly pulls his dick out of me. I glance over my shoulder and watch as he snatches the condom off. He frantically pumps his dick in and out of his hand. “Ah, shit…” he moans. “I don’t know what the fuck you doing to me…”
“Give me that hot nut, nigga. Yeah, nigga…Bust that nut all over my fat ass.”
“Ah, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,” he groans, splattering his nut all over my ass and lower back.
Ten minutes later, Wade is dressed and on his way out the door. There are no good-byes, no thank-yous betwee
n us; just the afterglow of a good fuck.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Today is one those “don’t-fuck-with-me-’cause-I-got-too-much-shit-to do-and-I’m-not-in-the-motherfucking-mood-for-any-bullshit” days. I’m in my office—at my desk, my fingers rapidly moving, clicking, against the keys of my computer. I am diligently trying to stay focused so I can complete my department’s end of the month status report. But, for some reason, my mind keeps wandering—to Garrett; to Wade. Two handsome, masculine, hard-working men who enjoy fucking me, but want more than what I’m offering—this sweet, gushy pussy. Two men whom I enjoy fucking, but want nothing more than what hangs between their legs—two beautiful, mouthwatering, thick, veiny chocolate cocks, alternately thrusting in and out of my sizzling snatch, consume my thoughts and I don’t fucking know why.
Okay, okay, I do know. Because I’m greedy, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to experiment with more than one dick in my bed at the same time, especially when it’s with two men who equally know how to slay the pussy. Besides, I know them, and I know how much they crave my wet, sticky, cunt juice all over their cocks.
My preoccupation with fucking them both simultaneously, having both of them filling my holes—stretching them wide and deep to capacity—from one end to the other, causes my walls to tighten. I shift in my seat, and squeeze my legs together, trying to pinch away the throbbing in my pussy. I can feel my panties getting moist as I envision having a ménage À trois—two sets of hands, roaming all over my body; two sets of lips, sucking my nipples; two sets of tongues, licking my pussy and clit; two sets of teeth, nibbling on my ass cheeks; two sets of balls for me to suck on, and gargle; two delicious dicks to rub together and deep throat, to mount and ride with reckless abandon.
Mmmm…oh, yes…I can feel my clit swelling.
My BlackBerry vibrates on my desk, shuddering as if it were having its own mini-orgasm, disrupting my own. A tinge of jealousy sweeps through me at the thought. I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. I pick up the device and remove it from its pink leather case, then lean back in my executive chair.
