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Isaiah’s dick slashed into her cunt, fucked out her juices.
LaQuandra’s eyes rolled around in her head. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Fuck me, you dirty bastard. Fuck me. Aaah . . . uhh . . . mmm!”
She met his thrusts with greedy, licentious thrusts of her own. Her pleasure built. And when Isaiah kissed her, in rough, hungry need, LaQuandra croaked out another sob as she came around him. The mattress bounced. The springs squeaked. Isaiah let go of her neck and grunted, quickly pulling himself out of her quivering pussy. He choked back a yell as heavy ropes of cum shot through his dick, scorching over LaQuandra’s pussy, lapping at her clit, then splattering over her trembling belly.
Dazed, he took his still-hard dick and slathered his seed into her flesh and then he plunged back inside her and pumped and pumped and pumped, until another heated ribbon of cum splashed deep into the basin of her pussy.
Over and over, Isaiah pumped himself until his throbbing dick was spent, but empty . . .
He stayed there, still. In the moment, inside her, enjoying the satiny clutch of her.
Until LaQuandra stopped sobbing, until she stopped clinging onto him, until his dick finally slipped out of her still shuddering body.
Forty-Five
“Have you ever cheated on me?”
The question caught Brenda off guard. In the eleven years that they’d been married, not once had Roselle ever asked her that.
So why now?
Oh yes. Because Dr. Dangerfield sat here in her all-fucking-white talking about emotional transparency, revealing one’s inner self, being completely honest and vulnerable in one’s feelings. Sharing those things that prevented closeness in a relationship.
Which definitely was not a problem, as far as Brenda was concerned, in her marriage. She and Roselle were very close. And they were not ever lacking in intimacy—or passion.
Yes, she’d cheated on Roselle—a few times. But she’d never been caught. She’d never given him reason to ask, to doubt, or to suspect. So her answer—the only answer—was no. And that was what Roselle should have heard coming from her mouth, and yet Brenda looked him in the eyes and said, “I should be allowed one night to fuck whoever I want after all the bitches you’ve run your dick in. Don’t you think?”
Roselle frowned. What the fuck? “Is that a yes?”
“No, Roselle. It’s a question.”
Mm. Defensive, Dr. Dangerfield mused. She clasped her hands in her lap. “Mr. Woods, is there a reason why you’re asking your wife about infidelity? Has something come up that has you now asking if she’s ever been unfaithful?”
Roselle shifted in his seat. “Nah. I’m only asking. I mean, sitting here listening to you talk about being transparent kinda got me wondering; you know.” He looked over at Brenda. “Keep shit a hunnid, Bren. You ever let another muhfucka get up in them guts?”
Brenda matched his stare. She didn’t blink nor flinch when she said, “No.”
Roselle narrowed his eyes, skepticism now coloring his face. He raised a brow. More cynicism bubbled to the surface, but he knew he had no legitimate reason—other than being a selfish bastard—to doubt her answer or feel any type of way about it if she had ever cheated.
“So you’ve never given another muhfucka head or let him eat you out? Because eating is still cheating, feel me?”
Roselle caught Dr. Dangerfield’s eyes and smirked.
Brenda rolled her eyes up in her head, shaking her head.
To lie or not to lie? That was never a question. It was a necessity.
“No, Roselle,” Brenda said. “I haven’t
Brenda felt Dr. Dangerfield’s piercing stare on her and so she kept her own eyes on Roselle in fear Dr. Dangerfield might see the truth.
Roselle let out a sigh of relief. Something was happening to him. He couldn’t put it into words, but he’d been feeling sort of . . . different the last few days.
“Look, baby,” he started. “If you have, I couldn’t blame you. And I wouldn’t hold it against you; feel me? ’Cause on some real shit, I know I’ve hurt you, Bren. And I know I’ve broken hella promises over the years to not cheat.”
“And still you did,” Brenda said, annoyance slowly coursing through her tone. Talking about Roselle’s infidelities always had a way of agitating her, and his most recent transgression with that white bitch was still a fresh wound for her. “Time and time again,” she added, “one lie, one broken promise, after another.”
“I know, baby,” Roselle said apologetically. “And I’m really sorry for that. For real this time, baby. Hurting you has never been my intentions.”
