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I have my hands around his throat. He places his hands around mine and squeezes until my eyes bulge. I start to feel light-headed. In a flash, the orgasm comes in hot, rapid waves. Gut-deep sensations surge through me. I lean in; bite Royce’s bottom lip. He bites me back. We go at it rough and dirty for forty minutes before he’s standing up, dipping at the knees, rapidly fucking me. A guttural bellow pushes out of me. I’m coming again. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, my tongue probing deeply into his mouth. I close my eyes, then open them, staring into his young, handsome, sweaty face. My body trembles and Royce moans as hot, tight spasms milk his shaft. He’s squeezing my ass, fucking me up and down over his cock. His mouth finds my left nipple. He bites it, causing me to cry out. Scream and buck up against him, my pussy juice squirting as he shudders, spurting his hot nut.
He falls back on the bed, panting hard and exhausted with his cock still tucked inside my sticky, slick cunt. I collapse on top of him, resting my head on his shoulder as I continue to shake. I’m still coming. I grind down on his dick nice and slow, then lift up off of it. I pull the condom off, then take his dick into my mouth, sucking his sweet creamy nut.
He wraps his hand in my hair, bouncing my head up and down. “Damn, ma…yeah, suck that dick…I’m gettin’ ready to bust another nut right down in ya throat.” I continue sucking his dick, then lapping at his balls, then licking his asshole. My fingers slip behind his balls while my wet tongue probes and dances against his tight manhole. When he relaxes, I slip a finger in. He gasps. I pop his dick back into my mouth, then “Aaaaahhh, shit…” I increase the suction on his dick, curling my finger until I am massaging his prostrate. I look up slantways at him. His eyes are rolling up in his head. I can tell he’s starting to feel the pressure building up in his balls, his ass, in the pit of his stomach as he bucks his hips, and grabs at the sheets. He thrusts his hips upward, clogging my throat with his cock. In between loud grunts, he comes hard, flooding my mouth with his cum. I swallow as much as I can, allowing the overflow to spill out of my mouth and onto my chin.
I’m in love with this man’s dick. And I’ll continue to fuck him. I may have let Desmond go out of necessity, but not Royce. He stays. I lick my lips, scoop the cream that clings to my chin off with my fingers, then lift them to his mouth. He sucks them clean. Watching Royce eat his own cum has turned me on even more.
I smile.
And he smiles back. “I gotta ’nother nut for you.” He pushes my head down. “Finish sucking it outta my dick.”
I oblige him, wrapping my lips around his dick, then sucking and humming until I’ve sucked it clean as a whistle and he’s fallen off to sleep.
Porsha
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
“I swear I hope that woman doesn’t open her mouth to say shit to me,” Persia says, washing her Neutrogena face mask off. “I don’t even want to look in her face.”
I roll my eyes up in my head. “And what woman are you talking about?” I ask, knowingly. She’s referring to our mother. It’s been a week since the face-slapping incident and she’s still harping on it. When I came home and saw her face bruised and she told me mother had slapped her, I knew she must have pushed the envelope with her.
Interestingly, Persia’s version of the story is that Mother barged her way into the house demanding to talk to her, then started verbally attacking her. Then when she asked her to leave, she hauled off and smacked her. Of course Mother’s version is somewhat different. And I believe hers over Persia’s. I know our mother. And I know how her mouth can be. But, I also know Persia. And if Mother slapped her, it was for good damn cause.
“I’m talking about your mother, who else?” she states, brushing her teeth.
I get up from my seat and walk over to the bathroom, leaning up against the doorframe. “Umm, considering we’re all sitting at the same table, I’m not sure how that’s gonna work out for you. And I’m thinking this whole seating situation might be a bit uncomfortable with all the tension between the two of you.”
She rinses her mouth. “Hopefully, I can switch seats with someone and not have to be bothered with her.”
I eye her. “Are you sure you want to go? I’m sure Pasha will understand. Actually, I’m sure she’d prefer you not be there if you and Mother are going to get into it. The last thing we need is the two of you tearing the place up.”
She drops her towel, walking out of the bathroom. I watch her as she bounces around her bedroom naked, pulling out underwear until she finds the right pair to wear. Then she tosses them all back in the drawer, deciding not to wear any. “Trust me. I have no intentions of saying anything to that woman. After that stunt she pulled, she’s dead to me. So there’s nothing to worry about. I’m not going to get into it with her. I’m going to the wedding. I’m going to have myself a damn good time, in spite of her. If I’m lucky enough, there’ll be a fine-ass groomsman I can fuck in the backseat of one of the limos.”
I shake my head, watching her lotion her body. “Persia, don’t you think you need to take some responsibility for what happened?”
She stops what she’s doing and stares at me. “So, you’re saying I’m responsible for that woman coming up in here disrespecting me, then slapping me? I did nothing to her. She attacked me.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” she asks defensively. She has her hand on her hip.
I glance at the crystal clock on her dresser. It’s a quarter to three. The wedding is at five. “Persia, we both know you’re not the victim here. Your attitude toward our mother has always been nasty. It’s no wonder the two of you have never gotten along. If you ask me, both of you are stubborn, and overly opinionated. I can’t help but to wonder what you said to her for her to slap you.”
She huffs. “For the hundredth time, I said nothing to that woman. I mumbled something under my breath and she heard it.”
“And what is it
you mumbled, oh dearest sister, because up until now you’ve been adamant that you didn’t do anything.”
“I mumbled I fucking hated her.”
I tilt my head, staring at her. I blink three times. Persia is a fucking mess. “Then, sweetie, you deserved to have your face slapped. And my advice to you is to apologize to her.”
She gives me a look of indignation. “The hell if I will. She should be apologizing to me.” Having this conversation is moot. I spin off on my heels and walk toward the door. “Where are you going?”
“To get ready.”
“Ugh,” Paris sighs, disgusted. “Of all days to get a fucking flat, it had to be today.” We’re on the shoulder of the Garden State Parkway, heading south waiting on a tow truck. The GPS says we’re fifteen miles away from our destination. “And now we’re going to miss the whole ceremony. We should’ve taken my car.”
