The White Whispers

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The White Whispers Page 20

by Kizzie Hayes


  "Janelle Stephanie Watkins, don't just sit there," Uncle Johnny said.

  His sharp tone snapped her back to the present. She opened her eyes wide, staring, blinked several times. She could feel her face getting hot and flushing red. It was a good thing that she was a cocoa color, sweet, pretty brown skin thing.

  She swallowed hard. She didn't know whether to sit or stand, tall, keep quiet, or extend her hand.

  "Hi Janelle," the man said in a deep masculine voice, smiling confidently. His shaved head transfixed her. He reminded her of Apollo from the Real Housewives of Atlanta. Hopefully, he wasn't that foolish, though. What an idiot that Apollo was. Always getting his dumb ass locked up for the same damn thing: his damn ego. He couldn't accept the fact that his older, chocolate, JD toting wife made all the money in the household. So instead trying to figure out legitimate ways to put money in his pocket, he came up with some weak con man shit and got himself in trouble. The masculine ego could be such a bitch sometimes.

  "My name's Kenny," the man said extending a meaty hand towards her. Goddamn. He was like Drake but with 80 more pounds of muscle and 5 inches taller. She wondered what else could be bigger...

  Maybe he was a mix between Drake and that hot felon on the west coast. You know the one. The one in the mug shot with those light eyes staring at the screen. The one kept getting his fine ass locked up again and again. Hopefully, when he gets out, he'll be able to put those good looks to use.

  Janelle extended her hand towards him. As his fingers wrapped around hers, she closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure. She felt so damn good. She felt like she could have an orgasm sitting right there in the chair, sitting right there with her uncle looking at her.

  "Kenny plays football," Uncle Johnny said. "For the Giants. Can you believe that?"

  Janelle swallowed hard, her eyes inadvertently moving up and down his hot body, once again fixing on his crotch.

  She took a moment to imagine how beautiful and meaty his cafe au lait cock probably was. She wasn't one to go down very often. She probably hadn't sucked a dick in two years, hadn't slurped on some balls, slobbered up and down a hairy shaft. It had been so long. She could feel her pussy beginning to dampen, the clit head filling blood and becoming bulbous.

  It had also been about than two years since a man had gone down there and had really given her the oral pleasure and worshiping that a beautiful woman's pussy deserved. That black, sweet, nectar, mother of the earth, goddess pussy.

  Janelle's mind was racing a million miles an hour, zigzagging in a million different directions. She didn't how to answer her uncle's question.

  "Will you say something, already?" Her uncle said, growing annoyed, shaking his head.

  "Are you a football fan by any chance?" Kenny asked, cocking his head to the side, staring at her confidently with gorgeous green eyes, his full, pulpy lips curling into an arrogant smile. There was no way she could say no to that face. At least not yet. At this point, she would tell him anything he wanted to hear. All she wanted, all her lust-filled brain could contemplate, all she could focus on, was getting underneath those clothes, letting her hands roam up and down his hard body, feeling each and every one of his muscles, hands dipping down to the six pack, and then lower to the bushel, neatly trimmed most likely, of pubic hair.

  Then her hands would go deeper and she would take hold of his fat cock. She would stroke it and stroke and within minutes, it would be hard, rock hard. Then she would get on her knees, take his big balls in her hand and begin to milk his cock, pumping it back and forth, in and out of her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head, licking up and down the shaft, driving him wild. And maybe, if things got really nasty, if they really let out their inner freak, let their hair down. She would stick one of her fingers in her mouth, wet it with saliva, then take that finger, move it around his tight hole, then ever so gently work it into the hole.

  A lot of guys got uptight about that kind thing, afraid that if the relationship went sour the girl, out of anger and spite, would reveal their particular predilection to their family, friends, and whoever was listening via Facebook, twitter, and Instagram, bringing into question the man's heterosexuality. Janelle had always found women who did that sort of thing to be pathetic and stupid, tacky and classless.

  She would never do something like that. To hell with the politicians and the preachers and anyone else who sought to outlaw the pleasures of anal. If God had not intended for people to enjoy anal stimulation, he wouldn't have put so many damn sensitive nerve fibers, especially for men. It was their prostate that made that sort of anal play that much more appealing.

  "Yeah, yeah, I watch football games every now and then," Janelle said, lying and hardly convincing Kenny.

  Her uncle began shaking his head again. "The girl hates football," he said. "Last week when I trying to watch y'all against the Cowboys on Sunday night, she kept turning the channel to some show with a whole lot of women fighting and talking loud. Some housewives crap."

  Janelle looked at her uncle, mortified. Did he really have to put so much her business out there? Kenny seemed to be enjoying her colorful uncle's way of expressing himself. Well, at least somebody was enjoying himself. At least this wasn't awkward for one of them. Yeah, that made Janelle feel a lot better. A whole lot better.

  "That's okay," Kenny said. "How do you feel about barbecue?"

  "Memphis or St. Louis?" Janelle asked. The word barbecue made her smile, made her remember those backyard cookouts, uncles and cousins throwing slabs of meat on the grill.

  "St. Louis, of course," he said. "But no disrespect to Memphis. None at all.

  Janelle nodded her head in approval, then launched another question.

  "Dry or wet?" Janelle asked.

  Kenny laughed, a deep belly laugh. "Always wet," he said. "Always wet."

  He kept his eyes fixed on her. There was plenty of chemistry and sexual tension between them. She definitely wanted to see more of him. Now, all he had to do was ask her out. He seemed to embody everything she'd been looking for, everything she found so hard to find amongst eligible black men in Brooklyn: articulate, intelligent, streetwise, and tough.

  She had a feeling that his tattoos told many stories marked important memories and moments in his life. Street tales. Janelle couldn't wait to hear them.

  Janelle was waiting, waiting patiently. It was going come at any moment. At any moment, he was going to ask her out. That's what was going to happen. They were going to go throw down and get some ribs together. Larry's Rib Shack.

  "The reason I asked," Kenny said. "Was because one of my good friends is a butcher in Queens. I promised your uncle that we don't beat the Eagles next week I'll buy him a huge slab."

  Janelle frowned, not sure whether he was serious. She waited for him to start laughing, to tell her that thing about the friend was just a joke.

  She was waiting for him to say that. He shook Johnny's hand and told him that he looked forward to their session next week.

  "Hey, you tell need to tell them to stop just throwing it up, hoping that somebody will catch. Especially down in the red zone," Johnny said. "It doesn't make any sense. His errors cost us points every week."

  Janelle put her hand on Johnny's shoulder, trying to calm him down. There was no reason for him to be the getting upset and potentially spiking his blood pressure.

  Kenny shook his head and sighed as if this wasn't he first time he'd heard that complaint from a fan, as if he wouldn't mind never hearing it ever again.

  "Okay, I'll pass the word," Kenny said.

  On the way across the parking lot back to her car, Janelle couldn't help scolding her very opinionated, a bit too much so, Uncle Johnny.

  "That guy helped you out. He's volunteering his time. And you talk to him like that?"

  "Yeah, I know he's volunteering his time. But he makes a hell of a lot of money. And so does everyone else on the team. I've been a fan of that team since before the schools desegregated. I bet you don't know nothin
g about that," he finished, clearly satisfied with himself.

  Janelle shook her head, realizing that it would be pointless to argue, accepting the fact her uncle Johnny was just as stubborn as she was, if not more so.

  After she had dropped him off, she headed to work.

  Frustration gnawed at her all day her. Why hadn't Kenny asked her out? It didn't make any sense to her. There seemed to be such good energy and chemistry between them. Was he married? That had to be it. It had to be. That would've made sense. But she hadn't looked at his ring finger. She'd been so entranced by his hard body, his tattoos, and his light eyes. What had been the meaning of all that?

  Things were so much easier when she was celibate. So much easier.

  *****

  Saturday had finally arrived. Janelle couldn't wait to get to Prospect Park for the concert. She would be meeting Thomas, Monet, and Monet's date. When she arrived at the kiosk where they were all supposed to meet, she didn't see any of them. Janelle texted her. No answer. Then she called her a couple times. The calls went straight to voicemail. She sighed looked and around her. The park was full of young, attractive people. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves.

  Janelle felt a hand tapping her on the shoulder. She turned around, smiled and opened her arms wide. It was Monet. She was ecstatic to see Monet but what she saw next nearly made her pass out.

  It was that man. That tall, muscular, light-skinned, green-eyed man. Kenny. That was his name. Kenny. What the hell was he doing here? Janelle felt like blurting out.

  "This is the guy that I was telling you about the other day," Monet said, smiling lustily and triumphantly. "Kenny this my best friend, Janelle."

  Kenny seemed just as shocked as Janelle. He looked back and forth between the two of them. He seemed to be wondering whether or not this was some joke, something kind of set up. Two devious, mischievous, cunning, conniving women playing games.

  Monet seemed oblivious to the emotions passing back and forth between them. She seemed totally enamored with him, loving the time she got to spend in his presence, his hunky, sexual presence. And what woman wouldn't have been?

  Janelle and Kenny shook hands awkwardly, their eyes searching each other, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  Thomas finally showed up, smiling and greeting everybody. He and Kenny had met before, hung out a couple times and they seemed to have pretty good chemistry.

  Minutes before Janelle would've been ecstatic to see Thomas. He looked incredibly handsome in his tight crew neck shirt, white boat shorts and shoes. There was a bulge in his pants. A big one. But for some strange reason, that held no interest for her right now. She still hadn't figured out what exactly was going on. It was all so confusing. Or maybe it wasn't. They both wanted the same man. Jealousy began to gnaw at her stomach.

  They were about to go find a comfortable spot in the park, lay out a couple of blankets, start eating, and enjoying the show. Janelle had brought a couple blankets from the laydown. Kenny had brought some fried chicken and coleslaw. Thomas brought white wine and jumbo Cajun shrimp. There was plenty to drink, and plenty to eat, but eating and drinking weren't on Janelle's mind.

  Monet reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, stared at the screen, and then she sighed disgustedly.

  Janelle wasn't sure what was going on. She hoped that everything was all right.

  Monet muttered something under her breath.

  "I'll be back," she said. "I have to take this.

  The next few minutes were the most awkward of Janelle's life. She didn't know what to say to either of the guys. The tension was thick in the air. She was very relieved when she saw Monet ending the call and marching back towards them. She had her head low, brow furled, eyes narrowed.

  Oh no, Janelle thought. What's wrong now?

  She knew that look. She'd seen it on many occasions.

  *****

  "What's wrong?" Kenny said, putting his hand on Monet's back and rubbing it gently. At that moment, Janelle had the urge, the sudden and primal urge to take him away from her.

  "It's just the life of a sports reporter that's all," she said. The Knicks are about to announce a blockbuster trade with at least two other teams. I've got to get to Manhattan ASAP."

  "Dang," Kenny said. "The Knicks are always doing something stupid. I've been a fan since growing up in Queens."

  "Yeah, tell me about it," Monet said.

  "At least, you're not 76ers fans," Thomas said. "Then you would really know heartache and pain."

  All three of them laughed. Janelle couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying. She'd never been much of a sports fan. And she doubted that she ever would. She'd never been able to wrap her head around the appeal of the whole thing.

  Before taking off, Monet gave everyone a hug and told them to have a good time. They would have to try something in the weeks ahead, all four of them. She would make sure that she couldn't be called into work under any circumstances.

  "I guess this isn't awkward," Thomas said, looking at Kenny and them pulling Janelle closer to him. Janelle felt strange wedged between these two men. Two men that she found attractive. She still hadn't got over the fact that Kenny, the man that she had been thinking about for the last few days, touching herself in the shower as she reimagined the scene in the PT clinic, was standing in front of her.

  And he was apparently dating Monet. It was so weird.

  Janelle, Kenny, Thomas decided that no matter how strange things were, it was still a Saturday afternoon. Good food. Music. Bright sun. Fresh air. There was no reason to be down. There was plenty of fun to be had. They found an open space on the grass, laid out the blankets and then took out the food and began eating. For the first 15 minutes or so they ate in silence, the music in the background and the sounds of the park and the people buzzing around them.

  But then Kenny and Thomas began talking. They clearly enjoyed each other's company.

  "I can't believe that you guys are allowed to go out and party the day before a game," Thomas said.

  "This is our bye week," Kenny said. "No games until next Sunday. I think you know what game it is."

  Thomas smiled, nodded his head up and down slowly. "You’re damn right. Giants at the Eagles baby."

  She felt a hand brush against her thigh and laser beams of pleasure shot off inside her. She closed her eyes and moaned. Then felt a strong hand rubbing up and down her thighs. What was going on? They were both rubbing the insides of her thighs.

  "Hey, get that other blanket," Kenny said.

  Thomas looked at him, smiled, and nodded his head. He grabbed the other blanket and spread it over Janelle's legs.

  She laid down flat on her back. Her head facing directly up into the sky, up into the heavens, and that's where these two men were going to take her, all the way to the heavens, to the pearly gates of pleasure.

  The firm hands moved up and down the insides of her thighs. As the men rubbed her, they smiled at each other conspiratorially. Maybe this had been their plan all along. Maybe the moment Monet left they had begun plotting this very thing.

  Janelle's breathing was heavy. She could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead. Her pussy was wet, the lips swollen, her clit engorged with blood.

  She trembled with pleasure as she felt one of the hands move inside her panties and then she felt a finger flicking at her clit and then there were fingers invading her asshole.

  It was so taboo. So dangerous. They could get caught at any minute. There were so many people around. But nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. Thankfully there wasn't a cop in sight.

  "Shit, this is so much fun," Kenny said. "But let's get out of here and do this for real."

  Fifteen minutes later, they walked into a hotel room. Their clothes quickly came off. All three of them began rolling around on the bed. Janelle felt completely dominated. Kenny in front, Thomas in the back.

  She took Kenny's dick in her hands and pumped it in and out of
her mouth. She slobbered up and down the shaft. She could barely get her hand around it. It was so thick and beautiful. She couldn't wait to see that cum juice explode from its huge head.

  While she worked Kenny’s cock up and down, Thomas pumped his big hard cock in and out of her, his hands gripping her waist. He grunted and sweated and thrust with all his might.

  Thomas was on the verge of a powerful orgasm. His body was covered with sweat. His muscles glistened. She could feel his dick twitching inside of her. Moments he his whole body shaking, his beautiful cock depositing a huge load inside of her. She could feel his hot, thick cum dripping out of her, down her thighs.

  After some heavy panting, huffing and puffing, Thomas snapped out of his post-orgasmic bliss. His kissed Janelle on the lips then brought her over to the bed and laid her down on it.

  "Now, it's your turn to tear that pussy up, Thomas said to Kenny.

  They both smiled and slapped hands. Janelle had never been more turned on in her whole life. Never in her life had men been so dominant and sexy. Never in her life had she ever submitted so willingly to a man's power. But suddenly she was seized by a serious doubt. What if this all went wrong? What if Monet found out and their friendship was ruined?

  But then she flashed back to the Japanese restaurant.

  "You're never gonna start really living," Monet had said. "Unless you're willing to go beyond your comfort zone. Take chances. Risks."

  Those had been her very words, her wise counsel to her friend. No matter what Monet might say if she found out, she wouldn't be able to claim that Janelle hadn't listened to her.

  Kenny angled his big creamy dick into her pussy. He grabbed her legs and began pounding her missionary style. It wasn't long before Janelle orgasmed, and then another one, then another one, each time her body quivering out of control, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. But she knew that she wanted to experience that again. And again. For the next few hours the three of them rolled around, traded fluids kissed and sucked and fucked themselves into oblivion.

 

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