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“Yeah, Ja . . . uhh . . . oooh . . . give it to me . . . ”
“I wanna keep fuckin’ this pussy . . . aaahhh, shit . . . ”
He presses my head down into the mattress, clamps his thighs around my hips and bangs my pussy up like a set of drums. “You like this dick slidin’ in and outta you, huh? You like it when I’m fuckin’ you deep in this wet pussy?”
In a flash I go from purrin’ to full-fledged growlin’ like some foamy-mouthed wildebeest. “Yesss, goddammit! Fuck me deep in it, motherfucka! Do me right, goddammit!”
“Yeah, baby . . . I love this dick in you . . . yeah, you love this dick, bitch . . . ?”
“Yesssssssss, motherfucka, yesssssssssss!
He pulls it out to the head, dips in and out nice ’n easy. Then speed-pokes my slit, causin’ juices to splash out. I grab it, slurp it, with my muscles. “Ohhh, fuck . . . pussy so muthafuckin’ good.”
He slaps my ass, then rams back in, deep. The niggah wants me to beg him to feed my asshole his dingalaing, stretch it open ’til it whistles. He wants me to whimper and plead for the dingaling. But I ain’t beggin’ no niggah for shit. I don’t give a fuck how good the dick is.
I moan. “Motherfucka . . . you ain’t shit . . . uhhh . . . long dicked, bitch . . . ohhh, yessss . . . mmmm . . . ”
He goes in with long, deep strokes, then pulls and short strokes my hole, then plunges back in deep. He keeps hittin’ my spot. His dick strokes are relentless. The motherfucka is doin’ me right, goddammit! He pulls back out to the head, sirs the tip in and out. Slllurp, sllllurp, slllllllurp! Swish, swish, swish! Jucies keep splashin’ out. I am cummin’ and cummin’ and cummin’. I glance over my shoulder at him. The niggah is lookin’ down, watchin’ as his hard dingaling disappears inside of me.
“Aaah, shit . . . ”
He slaps my ass.
“Muthafuckin’ good-ass pussy . . . I’ma break my dick off in it . . . ”
“Give it to me good, niggah! Punk-ass . . . oooh . . . yessss . . . ” I am cummin’. I twist and shudder and buck, grabbin’ and squeezin’ my titties. I pinch and lick my nipples. I wanna cum outta my ass. I wanna ride this niggah’s dick in my ass, but he’s makin’ me wait for it. And I know why. ’Cause he ain’t ready to nut yet, and he knows once I have him trapped in this sweet chocolate, I’ma have him spent in no time. He knows he can’t ever hold his nut when I have him gobbled up in my ass.
He finally pulls his dick outta me, opens my asscheeks, then works his dick into my ass. I press on my clit, wigglin’ my ass. I wanna buck back on it, but I’m gonna keep it ladylike ’til the niggah gets it all in. His dingaling, my asshole, fit like a snug glove. I arch my back, toot my ass up. He speed strokes me. All the while sweatin’ ’n gruntin’ ’n poppin’ shit about not wantin’ to share this ass, pussy, or throat with any other niggah.
His balls slap against the back of my wet pussy.
“Yeah, Daddy, get it, motherfucka . . . mmmmph . . . fuck that ass, baby . . . uhhh . . . yesssss . . . oooh . . . get all up in that chocolate, boo . . . ”
The niggah grunts ’n shakes. “Aaaah, aaaah, aaaaah . . . I’m cummin’ baby . . . mmmm . . . mmmm . . . . ya ass so hot . . . uhhh . . . ”
Of course it is, niggah. It’s hot from the ten gees I can’t wait to spend.
“Yesss, goddammit . . . skeet in my ass, Daddy . . . give me that hot cream, niggah-boo . . . ”
Two seconds later, he pulls outta my ass, snatches off the condom and tells me to hurry up and turn around. “Catch this nut, baby . . . ” I wrap my mouth around his Mandingaling and suck the sap outta it. “Aaaaah shit . . . fuckfuckfuck . . . ” His hot nut fills my mouth, then glides down into my throat. I keep suckin’. “Yeah, baby, gobble that shit up . . . ”
When I am done cleanin’ his dick, I climb outta bed, grab my handbag loaded down with my ten gees, and head straight to the bathroom. Glad the shit is finally over with. This damn niggah ain’t shit!
“Heeeeeey, Miss Pasha, girl,” I say, walkin’ toward her workstation. It’s packed to the seams up in here today. And I’m pissed that I ain’t get down here first thing this morning, or at least make me an appointment. “Where’s Miss Messy today?”
She shakes her head, smilin’. She has Jasper’s cousin, Mona, in her chair, textin’. Mona ain’t really messy, so I can’t say anthing shitty about her. But that sneaky niggah she married is. Mmmph. And he’s some kinda fine, too. But his dingaling’s longer than his money so there you have it. “Felecia has the day off,” Miss Pasha says, swivelin’ Mona in her chair toward the mirror. She trims the back of her hair. “What’s going on with you?”
“Not a damn thing, hon. How you, boo?”
She glances at me through the mirror. “I’m good. Keepin’ busy as you see.”
“I see. You doin’ it, boo. How many heads you got today?” She tells me she has two more after Mona, but they’re only washes ’n wraps. “Ooh, you think you can fit me in? I gotta look right for the weekend, boo.” She wants to know what I want done. I tell her I want my weave redid; that I wanna go Rihanna red ’cause I’m fierce and hot like fire.
She laughs. “Girl, you a mess. I’ll fit you in between my next two appointments.”
“Boo, you always do me right, goddammit.” I glance at Mona. “Hey, Miss Mona. What, you not speakin’ today?”
She looks up from her phone, eyein’ me in the mirror. “Girl, no. I’m wrapped up in fussin’ with Mario about some mess he done posted up on Facebook. I’m tellin’ you, social media is the devil in disguise.”
