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“If you can understand your sexual fantasies and desires,” Dr. Dangerfield said, as if she were reading Kendall’s thoughts. “You’ll begin to learn a lot about yourself as a sexual being. Mr. Evans, what do you fantasize about?”
“Nothing much,” Kendall said absently.
Roselle cocked an eyebrow at him. “Nothing? Man, we grown men. We’re always fantasizing about a piece of ass.” He gave Dr. Dangerfield an apologetic look.
She shrugged it off. Language was the least of her worries. “Mr. Evans, fantasies are a healthy part of our sexuality.”
Kendall glanced down at her feet. Shit. She had pretty-ass toes peeking out through her peep-toes on top of every-fucking-thing else that was sexy about her.
Truth be told, he had a thing for pretty feet and toes. But Krista’s feet were—well, uh, flat and wide and not worthy of being anywhere near his mouth or tongue.
Kendall sucked in a breath and cursed himself for imagining her soft feet massaging his dick, and then him licking over her soles.
“I have a foot fetish,” he admitted, but that wasn’t the damn question. So he added, “I sometimes fantasize about masturbating and then coming on a strange woman’s feet.”
Not quite true. But it would need to do.
That’s it? How damn boring, Dr. Dangerfield thought as she kept her face from frowning. She had hoped to hear something a bit more exciting.
Roselle gave Kendall a blank stare. “Damn, bruh. You can’t do any better than that?”
Kendall laughed, and so did Roselle and Isaiah.
“It’s all I got,” Kendall said, feigning embarrassment.
How uninspiring. “Oh. Okay,” Dr. Dangerfield said. Moving along. “What about you, Mr. Lewis?” she asked. “Would you care to share one of your sexual fantasies?”
Isaiah ran a hand over the top of his waves, then slid it over his mouth, before smoothing it over his goatee. “Man . . .” He scratched the top of his head, his nails raking along the deep ripple of a wave. “I’m not gonna hold you. Pleasure. She’s wifey in my head. Word is bond.” And she could get the dick raw.
“Yo, fam,” Roselle said over a laugh. “I got next. She bad. I had a woody the whole time she was standing there talking.”
Dr. Dangerfield smiled knowingly.
“Facts,” Isaiah said. And then he laughed. “I didn’t wanna look thirsty, but when she showed up down at the beach, I was tempted as fuck to ask for a flick with her.”
“You should have,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “Nairobia’s very down-to-earth.”
“Man, I’m glad you didn’t,” Roselle said. “Your wife woulda tried to choke you out. She seems like the type to body a muhfucka over you.”
All three men laughed at that.
“Yeah, you probably right.” Isaiah shook his head. “She’d fuck up a wet dream in a heartbeat.”
Dr. Dangerfield studied Isaiah, trying to figure out how in sweet hell he ended up with her. Sure he had a hood edge, but he wasn’t ratchet with it. He might have been from the hood, but he wasn’t ghetto. Or maybe he hid it well.
She shifted in her seat. Cleared her throat. And then asked, “And what if your fantasy were able to become a reality, Mr. Lewis? Would you still want it?”
Isaiah’s mouth turned to a lopsided grin.
Sexy. Real sexy, Dr. Dangerfield thought as she waited for his answer.
“If I could have one night with Pleasure,” he said, “hell yeah, I’d take it. No questions asked.”
“And what of your marriage?” Dr. Dangerfield asked. “Would you be willing to risk one night of passion with a fantasy woman?”
Wait. Was that supposed to be some trick question or some shit? Hell yeah, he’d risk it. Shit, it wasn’t like he was happily married any-damn-way, so he’d might as well go out with some good pussy.
/> His son’s mother was a freak. His wife was a freak. But Pleasure . . . Pleasure was the cream of the crop. She was the filling and icing and the cherry on top of the cake.
