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I can’t even front. Right now, the only thing I’m hearing is cash registers ringing in my ears. And all I’m seeing are dollar signs swimming behind my pupils. Carlos is the complete package. He’s not only a talented songwriter and singer. Dude is a gifted pianist. And he has mad sex appeal. All of his songs are raw, sexual and sensual about many of his sexapades around the globe and the things he’s said and done to get a chick to drop them drawz. And today, like never before, sex sells…lots of it. Straight like that. And this freaky muhfucka has enough heat to turn up the streets.
Carlos reaches his hand out for some dap, grinning. “Then let’s make music, baby.”
“Yo, that’s what I’m talking ’bout,” I say, giving him dap. “?’Bout damn time you got your mind right ‘n’ brought ya yellow ass on over to the MK family. Let’s go get this paper, bruh.”
He laughs, glancing at his watch. “You already know. Let’s drop some hot shit ‘n’ get these streets talking.”
“And them drawz droppin’,” I add, laughing along with him. I rise from my seat. Tell him to have his manager get at me.
He stands, too. “Aiight, cool, cool. I’ma ’bout to head out.” We give each other dap, then our frat handshake, followed by a big-ass hug, which kinda takes me by surprise; especially since his body is pressed into mine a lil’ closer than usual. “You’ve always been my boy,” he says, beaming. “And I got nothing but love for you, man.”
“That’s real shit. Likewise, playboy.” I step back from him, abruptly moving around to the other side of my desk and pulling my executive chair out, taking a seat.
I shuffle some papers around on my desk. “Make sure you have your manager holla at me.”
“True indeed,” he says, heading toward the door. “Let’s hit the courts one day next week so I can mop the floor with you.”
I laugh. “Yeah, aiight. Never that. You know you can’t see me, fam. I’ll bust yo’ ass, pretty boy.”
“Aaaah, shit. Is that a threat?”
I smirk. “Take it however you want, playa.”
“Oh, aiight. I got you. I’ma take it to the hoop, bruh. Believe that.” He hits me with deuces and I eye him as he makes his way to the door, shaking my head.
When the door finally closes behind him, I take in a deep breath, then slowly blow it out, before getting up and locking my door, then walking back over to my desk and unloosening my Ferragamo belt buckle. I’m horny as fuck. I unzip my pants, then slide my hand into the slit of my designer drawz, snaking out my semi-hard dick.
I squeeze the head of my dick a few times, then push back in my seat and grab the base of my shaft. My mouth waters as I lean forward and stretch myself down into my lap, sucking the head of my dick into the warmth of my mouth.
Yeah, I’m a self-sucker. And, nah, I don’t see anything gay about that shit. It’s my dick. I’m not sucking another niggah’s dick. I’m sucking my own. It’s no different than jerking it, or playing with it. It’s my shit. And it’s me pleasuring myself. Only difference is, a muhfucka’s using his mouth to add to the sensation. So fuck what ya heard. If I feel like I wanna wet my own dick, that’s what I do.
On some real, I learned I was able to suck my own shit by mishap and curiosity when I was like thirteen, during one of my many horny nights of beating my dick in the bathroom. I leaned in to spit down on the head of my dick and realized that I was flexible enough—and my dick was long enough—for me to lick it. So I did. And liked it. But I kept that shit on the low because for some reason, as good as that shit felt, it didn’t seem right. And I’d never heard of muhfuckas sucking or licking their own shit. And if they did, they damn sure weren’t hanging around the hood or on the courts talking about it.
So licking my dick became my own lil’ dirty secret.
And even though I was getting pussy, I still masturbated and locked myself in the bathroom and licked my dick. Then the more raw pussy I started getting, the stronger my urges to taste their juices on my dick got. So I’d finish smashing, then hop up from the bed with my wet, sticky dick swinging and lock myself in the bathroom to suck the cream off my cock. I’d be fucking some chick and the whole time I’d be thinking how I couldn’t wait to taste her on my dick. So licking my shit quickly evolved into me sucking it.
Flashes of Marika’s fat, wet pussy with my nut flooding out of it click in my head. I lick my lips as if I’m licking her cum-soaked cunt, groaning low. I spit on the head of my dick, stroking my thick shaft and sensually massaging my full, round balls before squeezing them. A mix of spit and precum coat my dick, becoming slippery lube to my shaft. The fire roaring inside of me is trapped, confined behind thick layers of muscle and skin.
“Aah, shiiit, baby…mmm …”
I lean forward and suck the head of my dick, bobbing my head up and down my shit. Horny. I need release. Need to empty this heavy sac. I suck myself to the edge.
Bowing at the crown of my dick, worshipping it, pumping it into my mouth, all the way to my tonsils. “Aaaah…”
Here it comes. Here it comes…
I toss my head back, shut my eyes tight, bite into my bottom lip and buck as bolts of hot nut shoot, spurt, then splatter outta my dick.
SIX
Marcel
“Ooh, baby. Guess who came to see me today looking every bit of delicious today?” Marika says, walking outta her walk-in closet. I stare and lick my lips. She’s wearing only a pair of red silk panties and high-heel red bottoms.
My dick stirs in my drawz.
“Who?” I ask as if I don’t already know.
