Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series)

by Jessica Watkins

Her voice was so soft and tempting. Her femininity choked me and prevented me from saying anything. I wanted to hear her voice so that I would be constantly reminded that she was a woman. Then I would be able to feel the passion that I felt when I knew there was a woman pleasing me.

  She went back and forth, from one breast to the other, tasted each one with deep kisses, still asking me, teasing me with her soft voice, of my assurance. I couldn’t part my lips. When usually I was very vulgar, raunchy, and aggressive, be it with a man or woman, I was now mute. The excitement was torture, crawled into my vocal cords and stopped all words. I wanted to tell her how good she was making me feel, how everything in me was about to spill out with one more stroke of her thumb against my sex, and how I wanted to lock this feeling in a box so that I could have it anytime I wanted it.

  Two of her fingers slipped inside of my panties as her mouth found my stomach, navel, and then my panty line. Moisture leaked from the inside of my body. My insides wrapped around her fingers as they touched my slick walls.

  “Are you sure?” Her breath could be felt on the surface of my panties. My knees got weak. She moved my panties to the side with her teeth and continued to work her thumb as she licked slowly. “Are you sure…”

  “I’m sure.”

  She giggled at my sudden assurance. I would have laughed as well if I weren’t so in the moment.

  She could have been using my feelings for her to merely cure her curiosities. She could have been just acting as if she cared for me as much as I cared for her just to get laid. Yet, I had no choice but to follow my heart and lust at the moment, and deal with the repercussions after my orgasm.

  TRICEY

  It’s funny that having sex with Damion gave me the courage to call Tunde and face the monster living in his pants that he refused to give me. I shouldn’t have been thinking about another man after sleeping with another one. But Damion hadn’t actually done so much damage that would make me forget about my other potential.

  Presently, Damion’s personality and physical appearance had more of an effect on me than the dick he gave me. The phrase “it’s not the size of the boat but the motion in the ocean” perfectly described the experience that I had with Damion.

  It was good. There were screams, pleads, and praises to Jesus.

  What has me dialing Tunde’s number instead of Damion’s to thank him for the ride is that the ride only lasted about … ten minutes! No sooner than I was getting my rhythm, had mounted his erection, and was readying myself to buck and ride like the rowdiest cowboy, he came, ever so prematurely. I was, at the very least, disappointed. I had not kept my legs closed for damn near a year just for the next time that I had sex to last a very disappointing ten minutes! It was a damn good ten minutes of some damn good fucking, but still only ten minutes!

  He apologized, admitted that he had been anticipating the moment so much that he couldn’t contain himself or his excitement. He was obviously embarrassed, especially when no matter how hard the both of us tried to assist him in another erection, nothing would work. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. The man had had a long and tiring day. I kept my disappointment to myself to prevent from hurting his feelings any further than his pre-maturity already had. I dressed quickly as I told him that I had to hit the road before it got too late.

  He kissed me goodbye as he swore that he would be in Chicago in two days to make it better. I stroked his ego, telling him that I couldn’t wait.

  Then I laughed the entire walk to my car.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey you.”

  “I was waiting for you to make this phone call.”

  Tunde was being so arrogant, like he knew that he had me walking into the house with a puddle in my jeans last night. But he wasn’t so condescending that he would take what I wanted to give him.

  “Now how childish is that, Tunde? Why wouldn’t you just make the call yourself?”

  “Because then I would know that you wanted to hear my voice.”

  “I always do.”

  “Do you?”

  If I hadn’t have justnearly had an orgasm, I would have ran my car into the median from the excitement. I believe Tunde knew the affect that he had on me, so therefore tortured the shit out of me.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit, Tunde.”

  “Huh?”

  “Why do you tease me?”

  “What?”

  “Why do you tease me? Why do you get me drunk, flirt with me, feel me up, and even take it to the point that I feel how hard your dick is, just for you to drop me off at home? If I had a dick, I would have blue balls.”

  He simply laughed in response.

  “It isn’t funny,” I told him. “At first, it was cute. It was romantic that you were the one man that didn’t want only one thing from me. But now, beau, it’s played out. Why don’t you want me?”

  There was silence for a moment. I thought maybe he was trying to ignore my persistence as he always did.

  “Because I’m waiting for the moment that I can sweep you off of your feet.”

  “You have.”

  “Not exactly,” he said with sigh. “Not as much as I want to. It’s more; much more, believe me.”

  I wasn’t moved. My breath wasn’t taken away at all. He’d said these things before. He always promised that the day would come when he would be fucking my brains out while loving me unconditionally. Those promises didn’t move me anymore.

  “In the mean time, why can’t you fuck me?” I was being blunt. I could hear that he was surprised by my raunchiness. However, he was coming back quickly with the same answers that he always had.

  “I don’t want the first time that I make you cum to be a mistake or something that happens on a drunk night at two in the morning,” he answered. “I want it to be special…”

  “At this point, any moment between us is special.”

  I was hearing the same old tune to the same old song. There was no need in pulling these teeth any more. He was still stuck being a gentlemen.

  “Well, don’t take too long waiting for this to become ‘special’.”

  “I can take as long as I want,” he told me.

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes, really. Because if it is meant by God, you will be at my fingertips when the time is right.”

  “Why isn’t the time right? I don’t understand. Initially, we both were already in relationships and just starting college. Now, you’re into your career, and I am a month away from graduating. We’re both single. Why isn’t the time right?”

  “Because you don't love me yet. I want you to yearn for my presence as much as you yearn for my dick. There is a difference.”

  He was right. I didn’t love him. I just wanted him because he was the best candidate for the next man to penetrate me. Now that someone else had taken that job off his hands, we would see if he and his mind games still made me as weak in the knees.

  An hour later,I was pulling into a parking space a few feet away from my building. I nearly skipped to the front door. I wanted so badly for Lyric to be home so that I could tell her all that I had experienced today: Damion, Vic, the game, the movie, the sex, and Tunde and his promises.

  I was excited. I was in the mood for gossip, Lyric’s smart-ass comments, and some drinks to put me to sleep from a very energetic day.

  She was home. The lights were on all over the house. Her shoes and purse lay on the floor in the living room. I never considered how quiet the house was. My excitement was taking over my senses. I ran into my room, dropped my purse and jacket, and kicked my flip-flops off. I never considered knocking before going into Lyric’s room because I never did. She didn’t have a man and when she did, she was always sure to call me or leave notes for me because she knew that I would have a free for all; walking through any door and saying any and everything, if otherwise.

  When I entered her bedroom, I almost didn’t recognize my best friend. Lyric’s face was so far deep in this woman’s coochie that the o
nly way she was recognizable was by the tattoo of a rose on her left shoulder blade. I shouldn’t have stared the way that I did. But imagine walking into your presumably heterosexual best friend’s bedroom and seeing some woman, one whom you were told was only a platonic friend, with her legs spread clear cross country and your best friend of fifteen plus years chewing down like she ain’t ate in years. I was stuck! I wanted to scream, but the sight I was seeing was so shocking and raunchy that it traumatized my usually powerful bark. They were so into one another and the orgasm that was stirring inside of them that they didn’t even notice me standing there watching with my mouth gaped open.

  And it was a damn good display. I mean, Lyric was giving Veronica such good head that I wanted to tiptoe around the bed, tap Veronica on the shoulder, and ask her did that shit feel as good as her moans and praises were making it sound. Veronica’s moans were so damn animated that she could have taped them and sold them to a porno film company for voiceovers. Shit, I didn’t moan that way a few hours ago and I hadn’t had sex in a whole year. And I couldn’t imagine how Lyric was able to match Veronica’s tone seeing it as though her mouth was full.

  I didn’t even think that they would hear when my confusion finally crawled out of my mouth. “Lyric?!”

  She jumped. Veronica jumped. My eyes themselves were telling Veronica and Lyric how I was feeling. I just couldn’t comprehend the sight of my best friend butt-ball naked with the pussy juice all over her face.

  “Tricey,” Lyric begged.

  “OH MY GOD!!!!!” My screams were probably nerve-racking to the both of them, but I couldn’t help myself. “ARE. YOU. SERIOUS?!?!?!”

  I was actually laughing hysterically. This was the icing on the cake of my day. Just to see the both of them struggle to put their clothes on, the way all their toys bounced all over the bed while they wrestled to detangle themselves from one another, was hilarious.

  “Lyric?!” I was still screaming in laughter and confusion as Lyric was hopping into a pants leg.

  “I can explain.”

  “No, you cannot!!” I was still laughing.

  “Tricey, don’t.”

  Still giggling, I ran into the living room trying to take in the visual.

  “Tricey?” Lyric followed behind me in a bra and jogging pants that were on backwards.

  I couldn’t stop laughing. She pouted and folded her arms around her chest.

  I continued to tease and even pointed at her. “I cannot believe this shit!!”

  “I know,” she whined.

  Her whining made me feel bad for her. She looked confused, even with dried up pussy juice on her cheek.

  “Stop laughing.” She was almost in tears.

  I just stood there, looking at her with my hands on my hips, mouth to the floor, and eyes falling out of my sockets, focusing on the nut on her face.

  “Tricey, I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.”

  “Wipe your face,” I said with a laugh.

  She seemed to want to fold herself into a tight ball while she wiped her mouth with her hand. “Please don’t think that I’m nasty.”

  “Nasty? I think it’s a little freaky, but not nasty.”

  She looked relieved that I wasn’t under the impression that she was the scum of the earth since she’s sleeping with someone of her own sex.

  “Go,” I shooed her. Lyric looked at me with confusion as I continued. “Go! Go finish!!”

  Lyric was reluctant. She still wanted to stand there and be sure that I still loved her while some girl was shitting bricks while half-naked in her room with an orgasm stuck in between its source and the exit.

  I pushed her back in the direction of her room, back to the good sex she was obviously having. I was enough of a friend to put my jokes and finger pointing on the backburner long enough to allow her to finish what she started.

  “Go,” I told her. “Don’t mind me. Finish. Someone should today.”

  Lyric looked at me in confusion again.

  We were standing outside of her bedroom by now. The door was cracked a bit. I could see Veronica sitting on Lyric’s bed, fully dressed with her head in her hands.

  I answered Lyric’s confusion. “I’ll tell you later.”

  With her head down, she walked back into her bedroom.

  “And I will talk about your ass later too. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” she whined as she shut the door.

  Then, to tease them further, I started my yelling again. “Heeeeeey, Veronica!!”

  I could hear her giggling on the other side of the door and Lyric’s reluctant groaning.

  “Hey, Tricey!!”

  VICTORIA

  Sugar watched me with an unbelievable look on her face from the other side of the room. She was seated in my rocking chair. DeSire was sleep in her arms. I was standing over my bed changing the sheets.

  “You’re kidding, Vic. Tell me you’re kidding.”

  I shook my head. “I am so serious.”

  “Monique?” She questioned me as if she still couldn’t believe it, though I had clearly told her the story twice.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That bitch.”

  “I know,” I agreed.

  “That shit is nasty.”

  “I know.”

  She tsked as she shook her head in disbelief. “Niggas.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you’re so calm.”

  “By God’s grace. Admittedly, I had a break down on the phone with Tricey. I told her what happened, in so many words. I cried, groveled, and told her that I was sorry so many times that I can’t remember. I thought she deserved to know that my deception had come back around and kicked my ass.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She handled it well,” I answered. “But it wasn’t enough. I still do not have Lyric or my other friends that I grew up with. I still don’t have what I lost. But I can’t complain, because I don’t deserve them after what I did. Though I will never get back what I risked losing for that asshole, I’m satisfied still having Tricey in my life. I don’t even deserve that much.”

  Sugar looked more hurt and shocked than I was. Just a few months ago, I was going through my days with a breeze, loving my man, loving life, and having good sex with the assurance that my man loved me and only me. Now, I was living alone and taking penicillin. Things can change in a blink of an eye. Before you know it, your life is going in an entirely different direction, how naïve and foolish you’ve been for years is being smacked into your face, and you’re going over days in your head when he wasn’t in your presence and you had that gut feeling that you ignored because he walked through the door or called right when you were at the verge of breaking down, and you were just happy that he popped up.

  “Has he called?”

  I nodded. “A couple times, after he tried to get in and figured out that the locks had been changed.”

  Sugar asked, with a satisfied grin, “You changed the locks?”

  I simply smiled devilishly and nodded.

  Sugar’s smile grew even bigger as she told me, “Good girl.”

  I bowed.

  She applauded.

  I deserved it.

  I managed to survive the storm. Though I still had a long road ahead of me, the victory was actually starting to taste so sweet.

  A year and a half later . . .

  ONE

  Wednesday, November 12, 2008

  LYRIC

  “Lyric, who are you to judge? C’mon now, Miss I Got My Cake and Am Always Eating Too,” Tricey teased me.

  Then she laughed at her own joke as she drove away from our eight-hour work day in her new 2008 Chrysler 300C; a pity gift she received from Amiel just two weeks ago. I guess the car was supposed to make Tricey forget about the fact that his wife moved back in and the 24-inch rims were supposed to convince Tricey to stay with him despite all of this.

  “Don’t put me in this mess. My life isdifferent,” I said defending myself.

&nb
sp; “But it’s still messy.”

  My eyes rolled into the back of my head in argument, but I know Tricey is right. My mess is as smelly as hers. She is caught up with a married man, and I have yet to tell my soon-to-be husband that Veronica is my lover, not the best friend that I have been fronting her off to be for the past year.

  “I just think you’re so much better than this,” I told her.

  And that was my honest opinion. Miss Latrice “Tricey” Monae Anderson has blossomed into a beautiful twenty-six year old DPU graduate with her Bachelor of Science in Human Resource Leadership. She is still attending DPU as she gets her Masters in Health Administration, and she is the Human Resource Manager for the Department of Neurology at Saint Matthews. She lives in Beverly near me and Bradley in a cute little condo. As Tricey, what Latrice has been called since childhood, wears these many hats, she’s also basically a mother to her nephew, Jordan, allowing her little sister to still be a teenager and keeping their mother from pulling all of her hair out. I look over at Tricey in her Ralph Lauren pinstriped pants suit, Mac make-up perfected, hair pulled up in a bun, “well-done”, and I just want to smack her for being so damn stupid.

  As Tricey pulled into Starbucks, she replied, “You know what? I may be better than this, but I am finally in a situation that I am happy with. Yes, Amiel may be married with two kids, a house, and some damn cats, but I like it that way. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to get into a relationship with him. There are no surprises. I give him what Bridget isn’t; good sex, no drama, and no baggage. In return, I get a new car when he wants me to feel better about her being knocked up and still living in his house.”

  I cringed when she spoke and wondered if I sounded as cruel when I talked about my situation with Veronica and Bradley.

  “I’m finally happy,” Tricey continued. “Though the situation may not be ideal to others, I am happy with what I have, and I deserve to finally have some happiness.”

  As Tricey ordered both of us a grande extra caramel cappuccino, I could not help but to agree. It was only two months after Tunde, her ex-love interest, suddenly moved to North Carolina, against her wishes, when she met Amiel at a gas station in Lansing. She described him as the new Tunde. He had that basketball build, dark skin, and smooth personality like Tunde, in addition to providing her with the security that Tunde’s African heritage taught him to. Since Tunde was long gone, she was head-over-heels for Amiel. Bridget and the five-year marriage didn’t matter and neither did the children. All that mattered was that he was ready, willing, and able to keep Tricey a very happy woman.