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eat and punch this pudgy bitch in her fat neck, but she willed herself still in her seat, and simply crossed her legs.
After all, she was a lady.
“Please, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield finally interrupted. “No judging. And let’s refrain from abusive language. This is a safe zone, for all of you. And everyone is entitled to her opinions, but that does not give anyone the right to judge or criticize.”
LaQuandra huffed. “I wasn’t judging her. All I did was state an observation. She is uptight.”
Krista eyed LaQuandra nastily, and LaQuandra stared back.
Before the two women tore her office up, Dr. Dangerfield stepped in. “Mrs. Evans, you seem offended that Mrs. Lewis would say—or should I say, suggest—that you sound, operative word . . . prudish. Would you like to share why that is?”
“Yes, Krista,” LaQuandra said sweetly. Too sweetly. Flies were suddenly swarming all around her. “Please share.”
“I have nothing more to say.” Krista stood to her feet. “You ladies have a good day. I’m done.” And with that she walked out, leaving a sudden chill lingering in the air behind her.
Twenty-Five
Who the fuck does that ghetto bitch think she is? Calling me prudish?
Bitch, bye.
Krista couldn’t believe how angry she’d become over one simple word. But she was. And she now had a pounding headache. Maybe it wasn’t so much being called prudish that had bothered her most. No. It was the fact that that bitch, LaQuandra, had tried to be messy. And that was one thing Krista couldn’t stand—some messy-ass bitch.
So what if she wasn’t some dick-sucking cum-eater, like she was. If LaQuandra wanted to fellate, then so be it. She could suck a dick until her damn jaw broke off. But that didn’t mean she had to. No. Hell, no! She knew how to satisfy her husband. Well, shit. She thought she did. But lately, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Still, she wasn’t about to do any nasty-ass tongue tricks just to keep him, either.
She slowly exhaled. Lord, forgive me for calling that heathenish woman all types of bitches. But that’s what the hell she is.
Krista took another deep breath.
I know you know my heart, Lord.
Out of nowhere, a crash of lightning burst across the sky, like a cracking whip, followed by an enormous boom of thunder. Krista thought she felt the earth shake as she angrily stomped her sandaled-feet down the trail that led back toward the villas.
She was still beside herself with annoyance. How dare that hoodrat bitch—Lord forgive her—call her prudish? And then have the audacity to suggest she learn to suck dick. Krista didn’t need that bitch telling her how to please her man. The bitch couldn’t even keep her own man happy.
Prudish, hell . . .
Remembering the time she’d thrown caution to the wind and had given into pleasure brought a smirk to her face. That time on the Carnival cruise ship, Sunshine, two summers ago. 1:30 a.m. They had been at sea. Sailing from St. Thomas to Grand Turk. Up on the sky deck. Her white sundress was raised up over her thick hips, her nude-colored panties (and she’d paid good damn money for the silky item!) torn at the crotch by Kendall’s strong powerful hands. She’d gripped the railing and looked up at the darkened sky alit with stars as Kendall slid himself inside of her, and fucked her deep, in slow sensual strokes.
She couldn’t believe it. Allowing herself to be fucked out in the open like that . . . so vulnerable, so constrained (because she couldn’t cry out in fear she’d be heard) and yet so, so damn wet. Wetter than she’d ever been in her entire life.
What had gotten into her that night (besides Kendall’s hard dick)?
It’d taken almost four days of cajoling and sweet-talking and damn near pleading for Kendall to finally get her to let him make love to her there, in that very spot, beneath a dome of stars. But she’d finally acquiesced and gave into Kendall’s desire. She’d let him have his way with her, his dick thrusting wetly in and out of her body. Ooh, Lord, have mercy on her little slutty soul. Because that was what she’d imagined a slut would do, of what being slutty would be like.
And she’d come quick and hard . . . so, so hard . . . that she nearly passed out.
So LaQuandra could kiss her whole ass. She might not have been as freaky as those two whores, but Krista damn sure wasn’t some puritanical lay, either.
Still . . .
Thunder rumbled.
She couldn’t believe those bitches back there. Fantasizing about cheating on their husbands. Mmph. And that therapist sitting up in there encouraging such salacious behavior like there was nothing wrong with those two heathen-ass hoes entertaining the possibility of lying with another man. Fantasy or not, it was still wrong.
More lightning flashed overhead.
Krista looked up at the swaying coconut palms and then at the darkening sky draped in swollen clouds.
