Unveiled

by Shataya Simms

  “Liar,” he whispers, ripping my panties off and dropping to his knees. He spreads my ass cheeks apart and puts his face in, using his free hand to stroke my kitty.

  “Whoa…no.” I jump up onto the counter in my attempt to escape.

  He stands up, wipes my juices out of his beard before sticking his fingers that were just inside of me into his mouth, smiling wickedly while doing it.

  “You want me to stop?” He asks seductively, breathing in my face. I nod my head up and down.

  “You know you don’t want me to,” he whispers kissing my lips, his tongue swirling around in my mouth. His breath is hot and sweet, and I can taste the alcohol he has consumed. I know this is wrong. I feel like this is wrong, but I can’t stop myself. Between Nyce kissing up on me, R. Kelly telling him to “Sex Me” and the alcohol that I consumed, my head is spinning.

  He slides the straps down on my nightgown and lies me back on the counter while grabbing the can of whip cream, making creamy circles on both nipples, around my nipple rings before greedily licking and sucking it off. Biting down on my nipple and pinching it with his teeth, my flood gates open and I can feel my juices slide down to the crack of my ass. Peeling the rest of my nightgown and panties off, he helps himself to feeding his face as my hands involuntarily wander to the back of his head to help satisfy his appetite. Grabbing a piece of ice and popping it into his mouth, he teases my clit before using his tongue to push the ice cube up in me just to suck it out.

  “Fuuuuccckkkk,” I moan, cumming in his mouth. Nyce lifts me off the counter and carries me to the bedroom. Lying me down, he stares at my naked body while cocking his head to the side and smiling.

  “Still beautiful,” he whispers before climbing on top of me.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I murmur as he kisses on my neck. I place my hands on his chest and try to push him off me but he retaliates by grabbing both of my wrists and holds them up over my head while continuing to kiss on my body and shimmying out of his pants.

  “Stop it,” I exhale meaning it but not meaning it. I turn my head to prevent him from kissing me, fixating my gaze on my birth control packet that is lying on the nightstand. He follows my gaze.

  “Good thing you’re on the pill,” he says, gently turning my head. He pauses and places his forehead to mine, staring into my eyes and breathing on my skin. His lips are barely touching mine. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Is he thinking about her and regretting being here with me?

  He gently kisses my lips and let’s go of my hands.

  “I need you,” he confesses before sucking on my neck. His fingers find their way to my “box” and he can tell that I am dripping wet as she waits for him. He doesn’t insert himself inside of me. Instead, he bathes his dick in my juices on the outside of my pussy causing my back to arch, wanting to pull him in me.

  “I missed you.” He looks into my eyes and I can see his love, evoking emotions that are all too familiar to me. A time where we belonged to each other. I wouldn’t be able to stop this even if I tried; my body is too alive…my body is at home.

  “I want you,” he whispers before diving in and stealing my breath. His dick penetrates in and out of me with ease, nestling in my body like it belongs here. A key to my lock…perfection.

  “You still want me to stop?” He whispers in my ear while slowing his stroke, handling her with love.

  “Yes,” I whimper while grinding my hips, wanting him to go deeper.

  “Liar.”

  He increases his speed and I grab onto his ass to help him feed me, grinding my hips, matching his speed.

  “What’s your name?” He asks, looking down at me, staring into my eyes.

  “Aneesah.” I moan out in confusion, slowly shutting my eyes and enjoying every stroke he feeds me.

  “Nah. What’s your fuckin’ name? Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you,” he demands increasing his speed. I look up at him, hands grabbing onto the sheets, body about to explode from the inside out.

  “Your fuckin’ name?” He snaps going deeper as my mouth hangs open.

  “Diaaamondddd,” I sing.

  “My Diamond, right?”

  “Yesssssss,” I exhale.

  “And don’t you fuckin’ forget it. Mine!” He growls, sinking his teeth into my neck before wrapping his right hand around my throat and squeezes. Oh my God. I forgot that he knows I like it rough sometimes. Nyce has had sex with me, made love to me, and now is fucking me unapologetically all in one session. I’m about to lose my fuckin’ mind as he breaths heavily into my ear, squeezing my throat tighter while digging into my core.

  I am lost—possessed. My body isn’t mine anymore.

  “Stop…fuck…please stop,” I beg in ecstasy. What does this niggah want from me? Whatever he wants, he can have. I will sign my damn life insurance policy, my will, fuck, I will pay his mothafuckin’ mortgage and car note right now. You want a new outfit? Niggah, I got you. I’ll relinquish all my assets to you, just…

  “AHHHHHH,” I scream. He is taking me to a place that only he is capable of taking me to. I become like a small child losing all control of my small motor skills as he continues to stroke with a fierce aggression of passion.

  “Fuuuuuckkkk,” I exhale as my wetness trickles out of me, soaking the bed but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow the fuck down. I feel another orgasm coming on, a bigger one as it builds and builds up in my gut.

  “OH…MY…GODDDDDDDDD,” I yell out, legs trembling, body quaking. He continues to dig, snatching my very soul out of my being. I see God. I see stars and halos circling around my head as tears begin to fall from my eyes. I’m crying. I’m fucking crying as I turn into the exorcist and my body does this uncontrollable quake, flood gates open up and it feels like I just peed myself.

  The trickle leaving my body is steady until I feel squirts of cum shooting out. Nyce is seizing every fuckin’ bodily fluid out of me as my mouth goes completely dry. I’m not even sure if I’m dead or alive at this point, because every emotion is being tapped in to as he continues to feed my walls with his sensational stroke game.

  He lets out a ferocious grunt and I can feel every one of his soldiers in a manhunt search for my egg. I am in a trance, a daze as he continues to empty himself inside of me and I’m screaming out in pure bliss, joy, and an indescribable painful pleasure. Still semi-hard. Still stroking and pumping inside my walls. Hand still wrapped firmly around my neck. I can’t take much more. Fuck it, I can’t take anymore. I quit, I’m done, it’s a wrap. I tap out and as I am having these thoughts, I hear that little mothafucka’s voice from the video game “Mortal Kombat” yell “Finish Her” and my body goes limp, feeling like overcooked spaghetti noodles and I’m knocked out for the count.

  When I wake up, Nyce is still inside of me, face nestled in my neck, snoring softly in my ear. I’m not sure how long my little black out was, but what I do know is if Nyce had a point to prove about him being the best pipe I’ve ever had, he’s certainly has made it. Tron is great in bed but Nyce is legendary.

  I’m scared to move out of fear of waking him because if I move, he will wake up with regret. The thought of him loving someone more than he has ever loved me causes warm tears to trickle down my face. I fucked up and this has been one beautiful ass mistake. Why, after all of these years, do I still love him when I know that I shouldn’t? He’s like poison to my soul. I don’t get it. One minute I’m this strong, powerful woman and the next, I’m this weak, pathetic idiot of a woman whose heart turns into mush every time he’s around. I have single-handedly given him the knife to stab me with each and every time. How much abuse is one supposed to take?

  I can’t stop these fuckin’ tears from falling and it’s pissing me off, yet I remain paralyzed underneath him, too scared to face the reality of what is. That stupid Shirley Murdock song “As We Lay” is bouncing around in the corners of my mind. How the fuck did I get myself into this?

  With my tears steadily flowing, I cry quietly, wallowing in
self-pity, not wanting him to wake up. Not wanting him to separate himself from me once again. His body shifts, and I realize that my tears have been spilling down on to his face this whole time. He lifts up and looks into my eyes.

  “My Diamond girl. Don’t cry,” he whispers, kissing my cheek before kissing me softly on my lips, stifling my whimper. He places my hand on his chest and I can feel his heartbeat vibrating through my hand.

  “You are my heartbeat, awakening me from my death, you are my breath,” he whispers, quoting the very lyrics to the song I swore I would never sing.

  “So beautiful,” he says showering my face with kisses.

  “This wasn’t right,” I cry. “You left me for someone else and I hate you for it.” As hard as I am trying to stop myself from crying, this invisible faucet that seems to have turned on won’t stop and I am hating that he has this type of power over me. He tries to kiss me again, but I turn my head.

  “Stop it. I hate you and you’re married. You choose somebody else over me. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I hate you,” I repeat.

  “As if I would ever allow you to not talk to me or hate me,” he says.

  “You’re an asshole and this was not right.”

  “Shhh,” he whispers, kissing my cheek and putting his lips to my ear. “I came for you. I am here alone because I came for you. I left Tori and I’m here for you,” he says kissing me.

  “What?”

  “I said that you are where I want to be. That whole Tori situation…I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I inflicted that type of pain on you. Me and her were never supposed to be. It was a wild, drunken, high stupid night and I wasn’t thinking. I was mad and pissed off at you. I just wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry. That’s what I have been trying to tell you for the past two years. I fucked up and I’m sorry.”

  “That doesn’t make it right. You left me.”

  “Aneesah, you fucked up a time or two, so forgive me. I made a mistake that I regret, and I regret nothing but me leaving you and marrying her, I regret, so forgive me so we can start over.”

  “I can’t. You loved somebody else. You loved her.” I choke as the invisible knife plunges deeper into my chest.

  “It wasn’t like that. I got love for her but not like that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He sits up and looks at me.

  “You mentioned once that you loved Saheed, but you couldn’t love him fully, well that’s how I felt. I can’t give her my all because I am still in love with you; I still want to give you my all. I never fell out of love with you, Aneesah,” he says sincerely.

  “What happened Nyce between you and her? How did this whole relationship and marriage thing come about? Tell me the truth too because I know when you’re lying.”

  “Why does it matter? Why are you asking me to purposely hurt you?”

  “Because I need to know.”

  He cocks his head to the side and lets out a breath.

  “I met her during my fourth year of being locked up. She was finishing up her thesis for her PhD in psychology. Part of her thesis included trying to rehabilitate angry prisoners or some shit like that. So, when this dude named Rafik got killed and I was the unlucky asshole who found his body, I became public enemy and suspect number one. Even after my niggah Tone confessed to the murder, they still made me undergo psychiatric evaluations and shit. She ended up being my therapist,” he shrugs.

  “Why’d you do it?” I ask.

  “Do what?”

  “Why did you kill Rafik?”

  Nyce lets out a laugh.

  “Because Tone’s in a wheelchair and he tipped him over, stole his chair and left him lying on the ground,” he confesses.

  “Continue,” I tell him.

  “She was my therapist, so it started out with me telling her what she wanted to hear to keep the heat off me. I would flirt with her and make her laugh. It started out harmless but somehow, I got caught up and started liking her, so we would spend hours talking to each other. She convinced me to get my degree while being on lock down. I promised her that when I got out, if she wasn’t married, we would give each other a fair chance at being in a relationship. Truth is, I thought I was never getting out, so my little head games were harmless.”

  “You told her everything?” I question, hurt that he trusts her enough that way.

  “I told her some stuff but not everything. Nothing incriminating.”

  “But…”

  “You’re still the only one who knows every little dirty, dark secret of my life,” he says looking at me.

  “You cheated on me and married her. What…”

  “I didn’t mean to cheat on you. When I stopped being in denial about your addiction, I was mentally fucked up. I couldn’t talk to you about it because you would have just denied the shit, so I reached out to her. I didn’t tell her that you were on drugs so relax but at that time, I just wanted…I don’t know…I don’t know how to explain. I wanted to feel like a man again…thee man. I wanted control…to be in control. Every woman I’ve ever dealt with, I was able to control the situation. The shit you were going through was beyond my control and I didn’t know how to deal with that.

  “I came home after leaving you on the island. I was trying to get my shit together, so I went to Vegas to relieve some stress; to gamble and drink and just forget about your ass. I ran into her down there. She was there for her sister’s birthday and we started hanging out and one stupid night we was playing around, drunk and got married. I’m still convinced she put something in my damn drink because I have no recollection of what happened that night and I’ve never been intoxicated to the point of me blacking out but when she told me, and she starts showing me pictures and shit, what the fuck was I supposed to do? I asked for an annulment, but she refused and begged and cried for me to stay and try. My dumb ass didn’t sign a fuckin’ prenup. The deal was if I stayed and gave the marriage a fair chance for two years, she would leave with nothing and not put up a fight. I knew that the marriage wasn’t gonna work but out of guilt and me not wanting to give her half my shit, I stayed trusting her word. I’m not saying that it was all bad; she’s going to make some man very happy one day, but she isn’t for me. She’s whiny and needy. She wanted to talk about you and me all the fuckin’ time which annoyed the fuck outta me and she can’t keep up,” he shrugs.

  Although his confession hurts me deeply, I asked for this truth.

  “She can’t keep up? What does that mean?” I question.

  “Her sexual appetite. She can’t keep up. She’s kind of boring in bed,” he chuckles.

  “Too much information but I understand. You could have taught her though like with me and Saheed. At first…”

  “Woman,” he snaps, cutting me off. “I almost snapped your fuckin’ neck. Don’t be talking to me about some other niggah touching you,” he barks.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I ask pissed off.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to think about you being with somebody else,” he laughs.

  “You just said all that shit about Tori.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s different. I got an ego and pride. What I was trying to say is that despite me being with Tori, you’re the only woman I can’t seem to get enough of. I dogged that girl more than I am willing to admit but your freaky ass is the only woman I’ve ever been truly faithful to. You’re a freak like me. Even a virgin at nineteen, you was a freak then,” he chuckles, slapping my thigh.

  “You have hurt me more times than I can count. You destroyed my confidence and have made me feel so fuckin’ unworthy and unloved,” I whisper as the tears start to build up in my eyes again. Fuck!

  “I’m sorry,” he says while trying to pull me into his arms. “That was never my intention. I was going through it too, Aneesah.”

  “You should have talked to me. You should have never pushed me away. We were supposed to be a team,” I snap.

  “Being with you isn’t easy,” he confesses.


  “What? I have never deliberately done anything to you, to make you feel this way.”

  “You’ve emasculated me more than once.”

  “WHAT?” I object.

  “I mean, no matter what, you will never need me for anything. You have never asked me for a dime and you don’t even need me to protect you. You have your own fuckin’ bodyguards. You‘ve saved me more than once with Fernàn. It was your money that allowed me to get back on my feet during that summer when all my stash houses got popped. You gave me $10 million dollars without even blinking a fuckin’ eye,” he pauses. “I was prepared to die in Miami. The whole point of us driving down there was to spend as much time as I could with you. Somehow you fuckin’ convinced Fernàn to let me go and that bullshit with Nas…It’s kind of emasculating when you need your girl to keep saving your life,” he says softly. I never knew he felt this way.

  “We are supposed to be a team, James. That’s what I’m supposed to do. I help you and you help me when needed. You honestly think that I don’t need you?” I ask.

  “Honestly, what do you need me for? My fear is that one day you’re going to wake up and realize that I am a piece of shit.”

  I laugh thinking that he’s joking but the look on his face lets me know that he’s serious.

  “I’m not a good person,” he mumbles. I turn my body to face him. His eyes are now closed.

  “You’re a good person, babe. You feed the homeless. You give out free haircuts and sneakers to the kids. You buy them school supplies and clothes just because. I watched you allow kids to steal from your store and you don’t even say anything. Your punk ass won’t even evict anybody,” I remind him. He chuckles.

  “She was a single mother with three kids and it was wintertime. I’m not a monster,” he laughs.

  “Exactly. You’re not a monster therefore you’re not a piece of shit.”

  “But I am,” he mumbles, eyes still close. I gently place my hand on the side of his face.

  “You used to sell drugs and now you don’t,” I whisper. “You opened a rehab facility and provide free housing and food. I think your sins have been washed. You repented.”