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So he forced himself to try to think of something, like Cassandra—fucking her in that big ass of hers. The way she felt. The way his dick felt inside of it. The way she came around his dick—out of her ass while her pussy squirted.
Isaiah squeezed his eyes shut tightly. And concentrated.
Yeah. That was usually enough to get him off. But—fuck. Not tonight. Not after he’d snuck back over to Club Passion earlier tonight. Although he didn’t participate in any of the fuck-tivities, he’d watched some serous girl-on-girl shit pop off on the dance floor. Being in the club again, surrounded by all them sexy-ass broads—naked and horny; watching motherfuckers fuck all around him while on the dance floor—he now found it hard to keep his fantasizing focused on Cassandra’s freak-ass.
He needed something more.
Wet pussy.
He could still smell it. It had clung thickly in the air in the club by the end of the night, and now he wanted some. But not from LaQuandra. He wasn’t putting his dick in her—again, until he knew what he wanted from her.
He let out a frustrated sigh. Shit. What was the real point in that? By not fucking her—his wife, what was he proving? And in the end, what was the benefit of not fucking her when he had readily available pussy in reach?
Fuck if he knew. All he knew was, he had a hard dick, and needed some pussy.
Isaiah lightly pinched his right nipple while slowly massaging the head of his dick.
Wake up, little big man. Damn. Let me get this nut out.
Frustrated, Isaiah kicked the sheet off of him, and then bent one leg at the knee. He scrunched his face up and then he saw it. The Butterfly. Its colorful wings stretched out across the bare ass of the mocha-skinned beauty he’d seen a while back dancing up on the stage. Damn, she had a big, juicy ass.
“Yeah, there you go,” he muttered. “All that big ass.” Slowly, his dick began to swell as he stroked himself. “Uh, yeah, baby. Bend over ‘n’ let me stick this fat, hairy dick in you,” he whispered. Isaiah hock-spit into his hand and then used it as lubricant to stroke himself, his palm slipping wetly over his now swollen dickhead.
He frantically fisted his dick, his lids sliding shut as he grunted and ground his ass down into the mattress as his hips moved in sync with his hand movement.
“So fucking horny,” he rasped.
Isaiah’s balls swelled. He was finally on the verge of spilling out his orgasm. Eyes shut tight, in his mind’s eye, he saw that elaborate butterfly fluttering as Mocha’s ass bounced back on his dick.
“Aah. Shit . . .”
Isaiah sensed something in the room and his hooded lids slowly lifted. “Aah, sh—what the fuck . . .?”
LaQuandra was staring down at him. Naked, the moonlight illuminated her shiny, dark skin. She shimmered.
“I don’t know who the fuck you’re thinking about,” she said tersely. “But you’re not wasting that nut tonight.” And then the weight of her body sank into the mattress beside him.
“Yo, what the fuck is you doing?”
LaQuandra climbed up on top of him. “You fucking me tonight, nigga.”
“Nah. Go ’head. Damn.”
“I’m not asking you.” LaQuandra slid down his body.
“I’m not beat,” he said, the resolute sound of his tone defying his throbbing dick as she snatched his hand away from his dick and licked up the back of his shaft, before flicking her tongue over the head.
And though his mouth said no, his hands delved into her hair, holding her between his legs as he guided her to his hard dick.
He gritted his teeth as the wet heat from LaQuandra’s mouth engulfed him. She sucked over his head, suckling and nursing there, before licking his balls, running a thumb up the length of his dick. And then she drew her tongue up the back of his dick again.
Isaiah hissed in burning need, forgetting his mantra of not wanting her, of not fucking her.
LaQuandra’s tongue cradled his dick. She needed this—him, his dick. Hunger seared her entire body as she took Isaiah to the back of her throat, then eased out with a wet suction so strong that Isaiah’s toes curled.
LaQuandra dug her fingernails into his thighs as Isaiah fisted his hand in her braids, and fucked himself into her mouth.
No, this motherfucker wasn’t coming into her mouth—not tonight. Her pussy. It had to be there. She wanted it there. His dick, his nut . . . buried deep inside her.
