My Woman His Wife Saga (Urban Books)

by Anna J.

  For some reason she thought we would just be laid up for two weeks, and that I didn’t have a company to run. Besides, the Safe Haven and my art gallery didn’t run themselves. Who did she think did all the leg work? Robots? In addition to that, I still photographed for several well-known magazine publications, and they paid me well so there was no way I was missing out on any of that money. When she wasn’t out doing book signings she was on my damn phone wanting to talk and have phone sex. I had the lives of damaged teens in my hands that needed my attention, and possible buyers of my art so that I could make money. I didn’t have time to fuck all day whether it was by phone or otherwise. She was on fire, and for the first time in never I didn’t think I had what it took to turn her out. She wasn’t shit like Jazz and Sheila; she knew what to do in the bedroom. She was just a tad bit annoying though so we cut that trip short. It was time for homegirl to go on home and write another book or something. Anything was better than her being in my damn face.

  Needless to say, I was not happy when we arrived in Philly and the city was practically shut down. There were normally cabs lined up outside of baggage claim waiting for people, but today they were few and far between, and the line was extra long. I just needed to get to the Embassy Suites so that I could fall back for a second. Jaydah invited me to stay at her condo, but I declined. I had enough of her for the last week and a half to last a lifetime. Sexually, I would definitely hook up with her again, but right now she was riding hard on my nerves and I just needed some space. This was just a chill thing, but she was already acting like we were in a relationship.

  The crowds of people who were stranded at the airport were nothing but a huge ball of frustration. People were ready to go home, and from the looks of it they would be sleeping in these hard-ass chairs at least until the morning. I barely made it here myself, and for a lot of people who were on the same plane I was, it was a connecting flight. All the boards had delayed signs coming in and going out, and the chatter of cell phone calls being made to loved ones was almost deafening.

  I had no loved ones to call. My sister was out in Atlanta, partying hard as shit, and I’d been having trouble catching up with her for the last few weeks. I thought she would be cool once she made the Falcons cheerleading squad, but all she seemed to do was step her party game way up, and I knew she was sleeping with a number of the players on the team. Those eight balls she loved didn’t seem to be enough for her anymore either, and her habit was out of control. I offered help, but she didn’t think she needed it so there was nothing I could do but wait and see what happened.

  My sister was the truth, too. I’d even have gone so far as to admit she was even prettier than me. Where I was dark chocolate, Yolanda was a smooth, flawless butterscotch. I had a nice ass, but Yolanda had a donkey that many a video chicks was jealous over. She had a nice full D cup that could go braless, and her jet-black hair reached damn near to the top of her ass, and it was all hers. She was the shit, but you could almost see the effects of her lifestyle wearing away at her face . . . almost. Yolanda stayed on point and you would never catch her half ass, and I just hoped she stayed that way.

  After standing in line for more than an hour, pissed that I let Jaydah leave, not taking her offer to drive me to the hotel, I finally got a cab. The gypsy driver couldn’t stop staring at my ass long enough to put my shit in the trunk, and I let him stare, too, because I knew this ride would be on him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked me in a thick Indian accent, and I flirted shamelessly as I gave him directions. His cab smelled like a mixture of Old Spice and an Italian hoagie with all the fixings, but I thugged it out until I got to my destination. I didn’t have a choice, being as cabs were scarce at the moment, and I didn’t feel like waiting on another one after the rough flight I just had.

  “I’m staying at the Embassy Suites on Bartram Avenue,” I flirted shamelessly with the cab driver. He looked like he wanted to climb in the back seat and fuck me against the glass, and in my earlier days I probably would have let him. The Embassy was literally only about five minutes from the airport, and would cost no more than ten dollars to get there, but I didn’t pay for anything I didn’t have to.

  This was going to be a quick ride, so I knew whatever I was going to do had to be done if I was riding for free. Searching the outside pocket of my carry-on, I pulled out my trusty pink vibrator. It looked like a thick plastic spoon that had a little dip in the middle of the circle for lubrication. It wasn’t shaped like a dick or anything, so unless a person owned one, you wouldn’t know what it was.

  I turned the tip of it to the left, hoping my battery hadn’t died. The buzz coming from my little toy indicated that I would be cool at least from here to the hotel, but I would need some batteries soon. The sound caught the driver’s ear, and I saw him through the rearview mirror as we sat at the red light waiting our turn to go. Moving swiftly yet elegantly, I pulled my long dress up around my hips, and slipped one leg out of the tights I wore underneath to cover my bare bottom from the cold. The look on the cab driver’s face showed that he was happy to see I didn’t have any panties on.

  After placing a small drop of KY Warming Liquid directly on my clit, I gave the driver a show as I slowly ground against the pulse of the vibrator. I used my free hand to spread my lips open so that he could get a good view, and I closed my eyes and leaned back as I worked magic on my quickly approaching orgasm. I moaned and licked my lips as thoughts of James, Jasmine, and Sheila took turns licking my pussy and fingering me. It was weird because I hadn’t thought much about them in a while, and I guessed being back in Philly conjured up those feelings.

  I was so lost in thought, I didn’t even realize that we had already reached the hotel and the cab driver had pulled up behind the building instead of at the door. I could see slight drool form on the side of his mouth through the mirror as his right hand moved in a quick up and down motion indicating that he was jerking off. This was going to be easier than I thought. I noticed that the meter was still running, and he had to know I wasn’t paying a dime if he got one off too.

  “Miss Lady, your pussy sure looks like it tastes good. How can I find out?” the cab driver asked, his accent not as evident as when I first got in. That led me to believe that he only used it when necessary, and that this might not be his first time witnessing a masturbation session in the back of his cab. Eyeing the meter, I saw that it was now up to about fifteen dollars. Now, I was willing to pay ten if I necessarily had to, but anything more than that was not going to happen.

  I let the thought spin around in my head for a second as my orgasm approached, and figured what harm could it be to let the man taste the best pussy in the world. After all, he probably never had anything like it before and wouldn’t ever get the opportunity again. The look on his face said that he might tear it up, too. Shit, if he was any good I might have had to get his number before he pulled off.

  “Okay, I’ll let you taste it,” I answered seductively while I removed my tights completely and slid my feet back into my Ugg boots so they wouldn’t touch the dirty floor. “But this ride is on you. Understand?”

  He simply smiled and got out of the car, exposing his rock-hard dick to the rain and sleet that was beating Philly to death. I turned sideways in the chair, and opened my legs wide for him to eat, lifting my dress up over my hips so that only my ass touched the seat. I didn’t want to have to get out with a wet spot on my ass. He opened the back door of the cab, and his smile got wider when he saw I wasn’t playing. He was working with some shit himself, and if it weren’t for his foul body odor I might have entertained the thought of finishing this up in my room. Depending on how he handled his business I just might . . . after he showered of course.

  The cab driver scrunched his tall frame into the back seat, and wasted no time placing my legs on his shoulders and devouring me. He practically sucked my entire pussy into his mouth, and I must say I wasn’t ready for a beat down like that. If there were walls in the cab I defini
tely would have been climbing them.

  He used his entire tongue to massage my clit, and took the liberty of inserting three of his huge fingers into my tight walls. I flinched a little because I didn’t get a chance to see if his fingernails were clean, and I doubted if he had washed his hands at all today. My body paid my thoughts no mind as I bounced up and down on his hand uncontrollably, my pussy begging for release.

  “Yeah, just like that,” I moaned as I tried unsuccessfully to hold my orgasm a little longer. My walls began to clinch and I could feel my clit pulsate against his tongue as my honey ran out of me and soaked the back seat. The cab driver dove deeper between my legs, lapping up all of my juices from the inside of my thighs, and afterward his fingertips.

  “Damn, that was good,” he said right before his body stiffened, and he released all over the back of the front seat. The sight of his babies sliding down the faux leather backing and onto the floor made my stomach do a flip, but I kept my composure.

  He took a minute to catch his breath, then without a word climbed out of the back, and took his position back in the front seat like he was a limo driver, and I was a high-profile client. I smiled as I watched him use his tongue to taste what was left of me on the corner of his mouth. When we pulled around to the front of the hotel, he jumped out and got my bags out of the trunk while I gathered my stuff in the back seat. He even insisted on taking my bags all the way inside.

  “How much do I owe you?” I asked him with a sly smile on my face, needing to make this quick because I could still feel my honey running down the inside of my legs.

  “Just take my number, Miss Lady,” he said as he gave me a business card to the cab company he worked for with his number written on the back. “You can pay me back another time.”

  I just smiled, and waited for him to leave before I gave the receptionist my room information. I didn’t need him trying to creep back up here later on for payment. The bellhop looked rather tasty, and I could feel him watching my ass as I sashayed to the elevator. He never took his eyes from my behind as we made our way to the top floor of the hotel, and I made sure he knew to come back after his shift was over once I was situated.

  After I got comfortable in the room I looked out at the snow that coated the city, and the mess that it was creating for everyone. The real purpose of my being here reminded me that I had to get on the horn and make some calls. I had some business that I needed to handle, and first on the list was finding out where my son was.

  James

  A World Apart

  I can’t breathe. I feel like the oxygen was taken out of this car, leaving me to suffocate in silence. I mean, I know there is air in here because the people surrounding me are breathing like it’s nothing to it. For me, anxiety has my heart in a death grip and I can’t . . . breathe. I’m spiraling out of control right now with madness, not knowing what to expect and how I’ll react once I get to the hospital. What if Jazz and the kids are dead, or on their way to dying? What will I do without my family?

  It’s funny how they say in your last moments of life you see your entire existence flash before your eyes. I didn’t think these were my last moments, but the past ten years ran in front of my eyes like a Lifetime movie. All of the ups and downs, and everything in between. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The most joyful times of my life, and the times when I didn’t think I would make it through. I really wasn’t that bad of a husband and dad, was I? Shit had been crazy at home and I needed a minute to regroup; I deserved that, right?

  Okay, so I didn’t need to unwind with a stripper, but when I couldn’t even get some in-house ass what was I supposed to do?

  Let it be known that I never stopped loving my wife regardless of whose mouth was on my dick. Jasmine gave me the gift of children, and a loving marriage at least for a few years. We had chemistry, and a genuine feeling of peace with each other. We could talk about anything, and our dreams were that much easier to achieve because we had each other. The key word was had, just in case you didn’t catch that. We just lost our way kind of, and I was hoping God was as merciful as everyone kept saying He was because I needed her. I had been wilding out, and acting a fool, but I was done with all that now. I was ready to be a good husband, and bring all this mess to a standstill. I wanted our lives to go back to when shit was good and we had no worries. I swear if Jasmine makes it through this I’ll stop fucking other bitches . . . I think.

  Hell, who was I kidding? I thought I’d definitely need me a good therapy session to get rid of some of these demons. I was not on no Eric Benet shit with a sex addiction, but I liked me a fine-ass woman who was willing to fuck the shit out of me until I didn’t have an ounce of cum left in my body. I couldn’t help it, and I didn’t think I really wanted to fix it. Shit, Jazz used to be that woman, but all the fussing and the cheating and the nonsense just got to be too stressful. She didn’t desire me, and I no longer wanted her . . . it was bound to get crazy eventually. I just never thought we would be here at this point like this.

  I couldn’t think right now. It looked like we were heading toward University of Pennsylvania Hospital, judging by the houses that we were passing, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but breathing at the moment. What if this is it? For real this time. Like what if this is the fucking end? I need space, but these goons ain’t budging. I feel like I want to make a mad dash for it, and I’m feeling antsy. The ride over to the hospital was the most agonizing ever. I felt like a piece of me faded away with every block we went by. This could really be the end for us. I mean, what if Jazz didn’t make it through? What was I going to do without her?

  On the way there we passed by the accident scene, and at that moment I wasn’t so sure about my family making it out alive. The car was moved from the pole, but was almost folded in half where the middle seats were crushed in and things didn’t look good from here. The tension in the car smothered me, and I wanted to break free but I couldn’t. I was stuck between Jazz’s uncle and brother, and they already warned me that if I cut up they would cut me up into little pieces. I had no reason not to believe them, because they were very protective of Jazz, and had warned me of that early on.

  Honestly, I felt sorry for the kids. Anything that happened to me I probably deserved it, but the kids were innocent in this situation. Speaking of the kids, how do I explain this to Monica if something happened to our son? She’s going to wild all the way the hell out. I already know it. I often wondered why she just never took the boy with her, but Monica was not the mothering type so I understood her motive. It was a bullshit move, but probably for the best in the long run for the kid.

  From my position in the back seat I could see Jazz’s dad in tears, the sobs racking his body as he tried to control the pain he felt. What did I do? Why didn’t I just bring my ass home and deal with my family like a real man? The honest answer would be because I didn’t feel like it. I felt like we’d been beyond repair for years. All because I let my lust come before the love I had for my wife. Dealing with Monica was a bad move, but I couldn’t honestly say I wouldn’t have done it again if I’d had the chance. I had yet to meet a woman who could satisfy me like her, even Jazz. I might have done things differently, but I wouldn’t not try it again. That opportunity would be too good to pass up.

  We pulled up to the hospital after what felt like days later, but we could only drive but so fast due to the nasty weather outside. I felt myself hyperventilating, but Jazz’s brother gave me a look warning me to pull it together. I took a deep breath, and straightened my shirt after rubbing my temples. I didn’t know what I was about to walk into, and I suddenly didn’t want to be here. I was not ready to face the music just yet, but Jazz’s father was looking like he was daring me to make a wrong move. Her country-ass uncles looked like they would willingly break every bone in my body on command, and on the real I didn’t want it with these dudes by any means.

  I could hear the receptionist asking something inaudible because I was in a daze and she sounded like the
teacher off of Charlie Brown at this moment. My palms were sweating, and I felt overheated despite the cold chill that rushed in every time the automatic doors opened. I’m not ready for this. But at this point I knew I had to man up and brace myself for the unknown.

  The ride up to the intensive care unit felt like forever, and I was kind of hoping that the elevator would just pick up speed and go straight through the damn roof. I didn’t feel like this shit right now, and I was starting to get pissed off. Why the fuck didn’t she just pick up the kids and go the hell home? I’ve told Jazz time and time again to stop texting and driving, and when I didn’t answer the phone the first million times she called she should have just let the shit rest until she at least got everyone home safely. What the fuck? It’s like why? Why the hell is this shit happening? Where the hell are my kids?

  “What exactly happened at the accident scene?” I asked everyone, but it was like talking to empty air. No one even bothered to acknowledge that I was even standing there except to ensure that I hadn’t run off. I was irked beyond belief, but I didn’t feel like these fools jumping on me again so I let it go. Someone would have to answer me eventually.

  The dinging of the bell indicating that we reached our floor stirred me from my ranting thoughts for a second. I was actually sizing these dudes up, trying to see who I could knock the hell out first and get away, but I was outnumbered and I really didn’t want to make a scene at the hospital. I didn’t want to see my wife like this.

  I didn’t see any kids in the waiting area, and I was scared to ask of their whereabouts so I decided to just wait it out. I would cold snap if my kids weren’t alive, and a selfish part of me just didn’t want to know that truth if that was the case. Not right now, and not like this. I saw Jazz’s dad conversing with a fine-ass nurse at the nurse’s station, and my mind wandered to her riding my dick, her huge ass smothering my balls and smacking against my thighs as she comes down on me. What am I doing? My wife is in ICU . . . Focus, man, stay focused.