by Cairo
Oh, trust me, Mom, I think. I definitely prey on it.
I laugh, realizing there will never be any winning with her. “Mom, if nothing else, I believe you are always praying on it.”
She laughs, too. “You know me so well. Now, tell me. What day will you be flying in?” she asks, changing the subject.
“I’ll be there Wednesday night, and flying back on Friday,” I say.
“Oh,” she replies, sounding disappointed. “I thought you’d be staying a little longer than that, since we don’t see much of you.”
“Mom, I was just there a few months ago.”
“And you only stayed two days that time as well. It really doesn’t make sense to me for you to fly out all this way and not stay for at least a week.”
I laugh. “Mom, if I were staying a week, you’d be saying that wasn’t long enough. Then you’d want me to stay a month.”
“And what would be so wrong with that?” she asks, laughing.
I think about her question, try to consider my response, remembering my visit for the Fourth of July weekend. My parents were having a big family barbeque and wanted all of us there. And while I was there, everyone doted on me, showering me with love. But the one thing that put a damper on my almost perfect visit was the lack of dick. And, my wonderful, loving brothers—all six of them—made sure that getting any was damn near impossible. So the only fireworks popping off that weekend were the ones going off down at Balboa Park, ’cause there definitely wasn’t anything cracking between my legs.
I smile. “Not a thing, Mom,” I finally say. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“I can’t wait to see you either, baby. Travel safe, and see you when you get here.”
“I will,” I say, hanging up. “I love you.”
“And your father and I love you more,” she says in her sweet, motherly tone. I smile, hanging up, looking forward to feasting with my family.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Thanksgiving was beautiful. Although I picked at the food—because I didn’t have much of an appetite the whole time I was there and I was afraid I’d start throwing up again if I overate, from what little I did eat, my mother really outdid herself. And, as always, the weather was great. With the exception of having to look in Cherelle’s fucking face, I really enjoyed my time with everyone. But, I am so glad to be home. I love my family dearly, I swear I do. However, more than two days with all of my brothers, well, four of ’em, in one room is enough to have me slice my wrists. Terrance and Tyler are the only two who consistently prove that there really are good, decent men still around. It’s too damn bad that Terrance is married to a damn trick. Who, by the way, did her very best to keep her distance from me, which was fine by me. I hate that bitch! And it tears me up to see how Terrance has so much love in his eyes for that ho. It is bitches like her that are so undeserving of a good man, but they seem to always be the ones to end up with one. Despite this knowledge, it was really nice to see how Terrance and Tyler interact with their families. It reminds me so much of our father, and how he treated our mother and us growing up, doting over her and his children. Yes, Terrance and Tyler are truly good men.
But the rest of my brothers, forget it! They are womanizers in every sense of the word. Oh my God, I can’t get over how cocky and chauvinistic Lamont and Thomas are. Chicks really have them gassed up into believing that they are truly God’s gift to women.
“I expect a woman to jump when I speak, and not give me a bunch of backtalk when I tell her to do something,” Lamont had said while we were all sitting around the table, talking about relationships while playing spades. “If I tell her to wash my feet, if I tell her to get on her knees and bark like a poodle, I expect her to do what she’s told.”
I rolled my eyes, sucking my teeth. “And if she doesn’t?”
“Then I dismiss her. Next,” he said, snapping his finger. “Someone else is filling ya spot. So If you wanna keep ya position, and want me to keep giving you all this good lovin’, then you’d better stay on ya job or be ready to get replaced.”
Tyler laughed. “Man, I don’t know where Mom and Dad found you, but you one sick dude.”
“Yeah, whatever, man. You can call it what you want,” he snapped back, smirking, “but I’ll never be henpecked. Like some of you. I promise you that.”
“And what’s wrong with a man loving his family, and wanting to see his wife happy?” I asked.
“Ain’t a thing wrong with it,” Lamont stated, “if you like borrrrring.”
“So, let me get this right,” Terrance asked, rubbing his chin. “A man being devoted to his family and committed to his wife is boring to you?”
“Hey, man, if you like it, I love it. I just know it could never be me. I need variety in my life.”
I smirked, knowingly. ’Cause Lord knows I have had an assortment of dick to fill my platter.
“And you will always find yourself bouncing from bed to bed.”
“And the problem is?” he asks, raising a brow, laughing. “They don’t call me the Panty Slayer for nothing.”
“Ugh,” I grunted in disgust, studying my cards, “too much information.”
“Your go,” Trent said to me.
I rolled my eyes, tossing out the queen of hearts. It walked. “And the queen still rules,” I said, winking at Terrance and scooping up our books.
“Even the queen needs a pipe layer to bang her back out and keep her in check,” Lamont said.
He and Trent gave each other a high-five. Then Trent started his mess about how all women, with the exception of me and our mother, are only good for seeding and breeding.
“Say what?” I asked incredulously. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Just as I was about to say something else, Tyrell walked through the kitchen with some chick sporting a bunch of shoulder-length micro-braids and a neck wrapped in a bunch of gold jewelry. She was cute in the face and small in the waist with a set of big double-D titties. And she left no room for the imagination in her little, peach knit sweater and extra tight mini-skirt. Humph, the smartest thing Tyrell has ever done when it comes to a relationship, or women, was to only have one child. ’Cause, baby let me tell you, when it comes to him choosing women, he falls short every time. And on top of that, he seems to have a new one every time I’m there to visit. The last chick he had ended up being a certified psycho, cutting up all his clothes because he didn’t come home. Granted, he should have called her, but damn. Cutting up his belongings was a bit extreme, in my opinion. Humph. And then the dumb bitch ended up getting arrested for chasing him down the street in her bra and panties with a knife because he was trying to leave her crazy ass. It was bad enough she had taken one shoe from all his sets of Timbs and sneakers, and threw them out. Poor Tyrell had nothing but mismatched pairs of shoes to put on his feet. Then she had the nerve to cut off one leg of all of his pants, from his sweats to his jeans. How ridiculous is that? When I heard that shit, I had to shake my damn head. Why are some damn women so fucking desperate?
I swear some of these chicks out here are so fucked up, and so damn afraid of rejection that they’d stoop to doing some of the craziest shit to try to keep someone who no longer wants them because they’ve chased him away with all of their bullshit. Crazy hoes!
Of course Lamont and Trent gawked and drooled at Tyrell’s current flavor of the week like two dogs in heat as she stood there popping her chewing gum. If you ask me, they were sniffing ghetto trash.
Anyway, when I brought my attention back to Trent and asked Trent what exempted me and Mom from his beliefs about women being good only for fucking and having babies, he looked at me like I had a dick hanging out of my mouth or something. And truth be told, I wished I did.
He said, “Because that’s our mom. She’s the one who gave me life. And you, well…you’re not hot in the tail, running around chasing down dick like some cum-hungry, gold-digging chick.” Then he looked over at Tyrell’s chick of the week.
Of course I almost knocked my drink ove
r. If he only knew how much mileage my pussy gets he—along with the rest of my brothers—would be ready to beat me down… It’s Ho Central, but they’ll never hear that from me.
Anywaaaay, there’s nothing like home! Between my mother badgering me about settling down and getting married and my brothers watching me like damn hawks, along with the lack of dick intake, I thought I’d lose my motherfucking mind if I had to stay another day. Besides, I was starting to get real paranoid. My mother kept staring at me and smiling as if she knew my current predicament. They say a mother always knows her child better than anyone else. So, I had to get out of Dodge quick, fast and in a hurry before she started asking a bunch of questions and putting two and two together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
At four a.m. I awake to another one of my crazy ass dreams. I dream that I am in this sex store that looks like an old abandoned warehouse from the outside, but inside it is this gigantic space, practically the size of a department store and there are huge, flat-screen TVs throughout the store playing sex videos portraying all types of kinky sex. I’m not sure exactly what town or state this place is located in. But it is a dark, seedy area. The store is sectioned off by ropes and multi-colored doors.
Anyway, I am walking through the store pushing a cart, dressed in black leather from head to toe, wearing a leather crotch-less bikini underneath a full-length, leather trench with knee-high stiletto boots. My hair is tucked under a leather derby and I am holding a leather flogger in my hand. I am going down different aisles tossing all types of flavored gels and lotions, dog collars and leashes, cock rings, clamps and clips, vibrators, butt plugs and dildos in different colors, shapes and sizes into my basket. I even pick out a few wooden spoons and paddles, some smooth and others with ridges to add to my assortment of goodies.
When I am done with my shopping, I go through this security checkpoint; then I’m allowed to enter any door of my choice. Behind each door there are different types of men waiting to be dominated; men who secretly want to submit to a woman. My pussy is drooling with excitement. I open the first door and there are three men in this room sitting on chrome and leather stools: a handsome, well-built white man wearing a pair of red silk boxers; a beautiful, dark chocolate-coated hunk with shoulder-length locks wearing a pair of black silk boxers; and a fine-ass caramel-coated man with hazel eyes, butt-ass naked with a long, juicy dick.
I slam the door, taking off my trench and tossing it on the floor. They jump up, standing at attention. I strut over to Hazel Eyes and scream, “Who the fuck told you to get naked, you nasty dog? Get on your damn knees!” He does what he is told, and I place a leather-spiked collar around his neck, then attach the leash. I yank it. “Sniff my pussy, you bad dog.” I spread my legs apart, then take both of my hands and press his face into my crotch. He sniffs and sniffs, and sniffs. I cock one leg up on the barstool. “Lick my pussy, you nasty mutt!” He licks it, but he is lapping it real soft and lovingly. I want it rough and fast and wet. I slap his face. “Wet my pussy, damn you!” I slap his face again. “Yelp, like the nasty lying dog you are!” He starts yelping like a wounded puppy. When he finally gets my pussy nice and wet, I pet him. “That’s it, just like that. Good doggie. Mmmm, yes. Wet Momma’s pussy.”
The other two are still standing like toy soldiers, not daring to look over to see what is going on. I see the curiosity and the uncertainty in their faces. I can smell their excitement in the air as I remove my top and let my titties free. “Spit in your hand and jerk that big dick, you fucking dog!” Again, he does what he is told. “Yeah, that’s right, stroke that dick.” I slap his face. “Don’t you dare stop licking my pussy. Rub your nose in it!” He does. “Lick my clit.” He does. This goes on for about fifteen minutes until I am ready to cum. “Make me cum, you dirty dog.” I can tell he is getting into it and is about ready to cum himself. I slap his face again. “Nut on my boot, not on the floor or I’m gonna smear your nose in it. And you better howl when you’re getting ready to cum.”
He strokes his dick, panting and growling. And as soon as he is ready to nut he starts howling. He bursts his nut all over my boot, and then I make him clean it up with his tongue.
Next I walk over to White Hunk. I run my hands over the front of his boxers, then grab his dick in my hand, massaging it over his underwear. I lick his right nipple, then his left. “You’d better not let this dick get hard.” I keep stroking him, and feel it start to thicken and grow. “What the fuck did I tell you, you weak-ass fucker?!? I said you’d better not get hard.” I slap him with my free hand, while still stroking his dick. I continue licking his nipples, alternately sucking and biting and tugging at them with my teeth. His leg shakes.
“Oh, you like that. You wanna show Momma how big your dick can get, huh? You wanna cum for Momma?” He barks, nodding his head. “Good! Then cum you shall.” I tell him to remove his boxers. My Lord, I’m not gonna front, he has a big beautiful dick and big, smooth balls. My mouth starts to water. I walk back over to my bag of goodies and pull out some items. I place a clamp on each of his nipples. He winces. “Don’t you dare, you pathetic weakling!” I slap his face again. Then I hand him some sandpaper and order him to wrap it around his dick and masturbate his dry dick with it. His eyes bulge but he obeys the order and does what he is told, like the good little dog he is, and cums in thick, painful spurts.
I walk out of the room, then enter another door. There’s a tall Hispanic man with a football player’s build sitting on a leather bench. “Get the fuck up, motherfucker,” I snarl, “and strip!” He does what he’s told. When he is finished undressing, standing before me in his naked splendor, I tie his hands in front of him, then walk over to the wall and press a button that raises his hands up over his head and slowly lifts him up off the floor. His very large feet dangle in the air. He grimaces, pain etched on his face as he hangs in the air by his arms, fearfully waiting for them to pop out of their sockets.
His limp dick, fat and juicy like a plump sausage, hangs before me at eye level. I reach out and brush the back of my fingertips along the shaft, then grab it and violently shake it.
“You nasty fuck-face!” I sneer. “You better not let this fat cock get hard, or I’m gonna bite it off. You understand me, you motherfucking scumbag?”
He growls. I yank his balls, then dig my nails into his flesh and squeeze. He yelps. “Shut the fuck up, you weak-ass fucker!” Beads of sweat start to line his forehead. I let go of his nuts, and walk over to a black leather bag and pull out a leather whip. I crack it to the floor, walking back over to him. “You know what’s next, don’t you, you sneaky fuck?”
He whimpers, nodding. His eyes bulge as the whip continues to crack and snap against the concrete floor. I walk behind him, and give him ten lashes across his ass. He yells, pleads, as I whip his ass mercilessly. His body jerks. Then when I tire from swinging the whip, I abruptly stop and walk back in front of him. I grab his dick, then gently slip it into my mouth. I slurp it, suck it down, then stop when it begins to thicken. “If you nut, I’m gonna whip your ass again, you horny bastard,” I warn, slipping his dick back into my mouth and lovingly nursing it into a full erection.
He moans.
I moan.
Then…damn it—just when the shit was starting to get good, I wake up to a soaking wet pussy. Ugh, I hate this shit!
Hmmm…I never really thought of myself as someone who could get turned on by that whole dominatrix shit. But the thought of having a man be totally submissive is exciting, and quite entertaining. What would I do to him? Maybe have him wear a diaper and suck a pacifier, then get spanked by Momma before being put to bed, or making him worship my beautiful body, giving me a tongue bath with his thick tongue cleaning my asshole and pussy out; or make him beg me to sit on his face and smother him with my pussy, smearing my juices all over his lips, then making him suck my bloody Kotex; or maybe, make him lean over a chair while I whip his bare-ass with a belt until it whelps and blisters for being naughty, then make him jerk his dic
k and eat his own nut; or pinch and twist his nipples, then squeeze and dig my fingernails into his balls. Oh my God, the thought has me hysterical. I’d probably torture the hell out of his ass. I wonder how many men there are who crave to be dominated, and about the number of women who seek to dominate them.
I run my hands between my legs and play in my dick-hungry snatch. The dream has me so fucking horny. I need a dose of dick, ASAP. I glance at the clock, knowing it is too late to have someone come through to hit this pussy off. Well, it’s not, but I don’t want to chance them not being out of here before the sun rises. So I opt for plan B. I climb out of bed, go into my closet, and pull out a wooden box from the top shelf where I keep my sex trinkets, a large collection of pussy pleasing gadgets to get me off. When I find what I am looking for, I saunter back over to the bed to begin my mechanical stimulation.
Oh, how I enjoy masturbation. I do it daily. At least two to three times a day depending on my schedule. There are even times while I’m at work when I’ve gotten so horny that I’ve had to close my office door, put the “do not disturb” on my phone, then handle my business. Other times, I’ve gone into the ladies’ room and done myself just to take the edge off until I was able to get home. When I’m finished, I typically feel so energized, I’m practically racing. So masturbation definitely does the body good. Is there anything wrong with that? Hell no!
But of course some folks might think otherwise. Fuck ’em! Shit, it’s safe, and it keeps me in tune with my body. And using sex toys really aids in the process.
Speaking of masturbation, who do you think masturbates more: men or women? I’d suspect men do since they typically have sex on the brain more than most women. But, I do believe that there are a large number of women who enjoy playing in their pussies. Hmm…I wonder how many couples get off watching their partners get themselves off.
I know I personally love watching a man beat his dick. Sometimes, I like to help him out a little by either licking or sucking his balls, licking/sucking on his nipples, sometimes even flicking my tongue across the head of his dick while he’s stroking it. Or I’ll join in and masturbate with him. Other times, I like to sit across from him or next to him and watch. Truthfully, there’s something about hearing and watching a man cum that turns me on. Oh, how I wish there was some dick here tonight. I’d have him laying in the center of the bed, with his legs stretched open, jerking his dick off for me while I lowered my pussy over his face with my back towards him so I can watch him long stroke his cock while he’s eating my pussy. My mouth drools at the thought.
