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“Have I ever put my hands on you, Marika?”
Whap!
“N-noooo…”
Whap!
“You still doubt ya man?”
Whap!
“No, no, nooo, baby, never…I’m s-s-s—”
Whap!
“Get ya muthafuckin’ face down in that mattress.” Whap! “I’ma fuck you in ya ass now.”
I try to scramble away. “Marcel, no…wait.”
He catches me by the waist. Pins me down. “I told you. This ass is mine tonight.”
Whap!
And then he is yanking me up off the bed, snatching a pair of panties from off the bed and ordering me to slip them on. My heart leaps. My pussy purrs. They are a pair of custom, lace, black vibrating thongs. The vibe fits into the pocket stitched directly in the gusset. He already has the wireless vibrator into its pocket.
I weave unsteadily as I attempt to step into the underwear. Marcel immediately grasps my arm, catching me before I fall. He helps me into the thong. Then orders me back on my knees. “I want ya ass out to the edge of the bed.”
And then he is blindfolding me, and he surprisingly steps away. Leaving me. Making me wait. The anticipation, the waiting, slowly becoming more than I can bear.
Maddening silence…
THIRTY-EIGHT
Marcel
Two weeks later…
Real shit, I’m sitting here at my desk, completely fuckin’ distracted by my thoughts. I have mad shit to do today, but my concentration is shot to hell. There’s a pile of notes from Arianna of calls I need to return. E-mails to respond to. Contracts to look over.
But my brain is everywhere else but where it should be. Here handling business.
Even though shit’s been quiet for the last two weeks, I’m still feeling some kinda way with how shit popped off between Marika and me over that Marisol-Ramona broad, or whatever the fuck her name is.
And, yeah, Marika and I talked shit out. And we’ve both apologized—her, for jumping to conclusions and not trusting me; and me, for not telling her about meeting up with that broad. I was able to see how it looked to her.
But still, she should have trusted me enough to know I’d never cheat on her. What the fuck for?
Hell, if she wanted to shut down threesomes, I’d be cool with it. I’m not gonna front like I wouldn’t miss that shit, because I would. And I know she would as well. We both enjoy rocking in the sheets with the opposite and same sex…with each other.
I can’t see myself creeping behind her back to chill with another muhfucka. And I can’t see her doing that shit to me.
It wouldn’t be right. And the shit just wouldn’t be the same. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain the shit. I mean, Marika and…. damn. Our sex life is already fuckin’-unbelievably incredible when it’s just her and me in the sheets. But when we pull another muhfucka—chick or dude—up into the mix with us, that shit kicks our freak meter up another hundred notches.
Real talk, a muhfucka doesn’t know what their partner will or won’t do given the right time, space, and opportunity. And, on some real shit, I’m convinced there are more bicurious and bisexual muhfuckas out here, than not. Muhfuckas just not open about it with their partners. But that’s never been our issue.
Nah, Marika and I push each other’s sexual boundaries, and we’ve always fucked with no regrets. Well…up until this shit with that Marisol-Ramona chick. I regret that night ever happened. That was my dumb mistake.
One I’m glad didn’t get any uglier than it did with Marika turning up.
