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For a hot second, I consider my salacious thoughts. Think about Paris. Entertain the notion that perhaps she might really be interested in him, for herself. Think about how she might feel if she found out that I’ve sampled him, too. But then suddenly—I don’t care. I want, need, to see who this man is. And why Paris has kept him a secret.
“No, I don’t want you to beg.”
“Then what you want me to do?”
I lower my voice. “Come here and fuck my pussy real good, and I’ll make sure you finally get my number. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy for you.” Miss Messy glances over at me, holding up a black Donna Karan dress. “Umm, can I help you?” I ask with more attitude than I probably should have. But, this bitch is trying to ear hustle on my time.
“Yes, I’d like to know if this dress is on sale.”
Bitch, do you see a red tag on it? Is it on the sale rack? “Hold on,” I tell him, annoyed that this bitch is fucking up my phone time.
“No, you good. Go handle ya business. I’ma come through as soon as you close. And you can finish all that slickness you were talkin’ then.”
“Ma’am,” I say, holding a finger up. “Give me one second.”
“Take your time,” she says snidely.
I return back to my conversation, feeling my panties sticking to my pussy. “Oh, trust me. I’m gonna do more than talk. You make sure you’re ready to put up, or get shut up. I want you to beat this pussy up.”
He laughs. “Aaaah, shit. You done got my dick extra hard talkin’ all that slick shit. I got you, though. We gonna see what’s really good when I get there.”
“Yes, we shall. Oh, and by the way, you’ve got my panties soaked.” I hang up on him, pull down my panties and step out of them, sticking them in one of the drawers. I make my way over to Miss Messy. “Now, how can I help you?”
And this bitch better buy something, too!
Pain
CHAPTER FORTY
“Damn, baby, you miss big daddy like that?” he asks the minute I pull him into the back office and pounce on him. The moment he walked through the door, grinning at me, I wanted to fuck and suck him. Envy swept through me. This is Paris’s secret. Fine, dark chocolate wrapped around thick, bulging muscles. Her guilty pleasure would now become mine. It has been years since I’ve p
urposefully fucked a man who thought I was either Paris or Porsha. Boyfriends who loved them, or lusted them, wanting to be their firsts. But they weren’t fucking. They weren’t sucking. I was. And I was always eager to give them what they thought my sisters would. Good pussy, some ass, a good dick suck. Paris and Porsha were virgins doing boring shit—still making out, grinding, and kissing, and dick teasing. I was the one who gave the boys want they wanted. I’m the one who knew how to make them feel real good.
“Aaaaah, shit…suck that dick, baby…”
I look up, flutterin’ my eyes and moanin’ as I slowly run my tongue along the underside of his dick, then around the head. His dick pulses. I let go of it, standin’ up. “Yo, why you stop? You got my dick hard as steel, right now.”
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, walking into the office closet to get my cherry-flavored head gel out of my purse. I scoop some out with a finger, put it into my mouth. He’s now sitting on the sofa. I walk over to him, then drop down between his legs. I take his dick into my hand, then suck and slurp him until it starts to stretch and thicken. He closes his eyes. “Aaaah, fuck…that’s right, baby…suck daddy’s fat dick…”
He winds his hips, slow. Allows me to control the amount of dick I take into my mouth with my hands. “There you go…wet that shit…” I spit all over it, coating it with a glob of slob, then start jacking him off while I suck on his balls.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby…”
“You like that? You like how your little cum-slut is sucking all over them balls?” I ask. I lift his dick up and lap at his balls, then roll my tongue around them.
He grunts. “Fuck yeah. Suck them balls for me.”
I take his balls into my mouth. Pop them in and out, stroking his shaft.
“You want me to be your personal dick sucker? You like the way I coat your dick with my spit?” I ask, spitting on his dick, stroking it. He moans. “Tell ya little dick-sucking bitch how you want it.” I tell him to grab my titties, twist them. Slap them.
He looks at me, seemingly shocked by my aggressive demeanor. “Damn, ma, you real wild tonight. I didn’t know you like gettin’ it in like this.”
I grin, sly. “There’s a whole lot you don’t know about me, big daddy. Sometimes I like it real nasty. Sometimes I like it mild. Tonight, nigga, I want it wild.” I tell him I want him to talk dirty to me; to call me filthy names and yank my hair. I let him know how I want him to fuck me. Tell him how I’m going to suck his fat dick nice and slow and wet, then suck the nut out of it. I tell him I want him to eat my ass out, toss this salad until I beg him to fuck me deep in it. I tell him no pussy tonight; ass and throat, only.
“Damn, ma. You wildin’ for real; that’s wassup. So that’s how you wanna get it in, then that’s how we get it in. So get back up on this muthafuckin’ dick, bitch, and suck it like you love it.”
“Mmmm, yeah, nigga. That’s right. Talk nasty to a bitch.”
