Big Juicy Lips

by Allison Hobbs

  “Yo, whaddup, my man?” Monroe piped in. “I’m Monroe.”

  Misty suppressed a giggle when she heard the tremble in Monroe’s voice. He tried to his conceal his trepidation by deepening his tone, and assuming a cavalier attitude, but it didn’t work; a crack in his voice revealed his trepidation. Ha-ha! she cackled in her head.

  “Yo, come with me, man.”

  “What I do?” Monroe lost his cool; his voice went up an octave.

  Big Boy lightened up his gruff tone. “Calm down, my man. Someone sent you a personal invitation. Your party’s waiting for you up in the VIP room.”

  “What about the rest of us?” There was a tinge of desperation in Ashy Cashy’s voice.

  “Just Monroe,” Big Boy responded sternly.

  “Yo, Monroe. You gon’ dip up in there without us?” Dane asked incredulously.

  “Yo, dawg. I know you ain’t gon’ leave us out here like this?” Muscle Boy sounded irate.

  Had Misty thought the situation through, she would have offered Big Boy even more money to videotape the scenario. She would have gladly paid extra to witness the look on Dane’s face while he watched Monroe being personally ushered inside the prestigious club. “Ha!” she cackled out loud as she snapped her phone closed. She didn’t stop grinning until Monroe was escorted up to the VIP room.

  Monroe joined Misty at the balcony. “What’s good, shawty?” he said with an air of cockiness.

  She rolled her eyes and then gave him a long, speculative look. “What’s good?” She made a waving gesture. “This VIP treatment—that’s what’s good, nigga. Don’t I get a thank you or something for getting you out of that long-ass line?”

  “Oh, yeah; no doubt. Good looking out,” he remarked coolly, demonstrating an ability to maintain his composure despite the posh environment and the sprinkling of local celebrities in close proximity.

  Misty sucked her teeth as she caught a glimpse of Monroe’s dark eyes sneakily darting about, gleaming in appropriate awe of his good fortune. “Whatchu drinking, youngin’?”

  “Um, Budweiser?” Monroe posed his selection in the form of a question.

  “That’s it?”

  He touched his pockets. “That’s all I can do. I’m kind of light right now.”

  “Like I said, it’s all good. You’re my guest. You’re drinking on me.”

  “Yo, word? That’s whassup.” Monroe’s eyes lit up and appeared to spin delightedly inside his eye sockets.

  “Finally!”

  “Finally, what?”

  “You’re finally showing a little appreciation.” Misty smiled.

  Monroe glanced downward. “Aw, you ain’t gotta come at me like that.”

  “I’m just saying—” She stared him down.

  “I feel you,” he said, nodding. “Thanks.”

  “That’s better,” Misty acknowledged and then beckoned a bigtitty waitress. The waitress looked all right. Cute, but not spectacular. She most definitely was not competition for Misty. Then again, few were. All her life, her mother, her teachers, neighbors—everyone—either told her in words or demonstrated with preferential treatment that she was the prettiest girl in the world. To this day, Misty knew with all her heart that Beyonce, Shakira, Halle, and Kim Kardashian all rolled into one couldn’t touch her beauty.

  Swinging her hips like she knew she was hot, the dark-skinned waitress approached Misty and Monroe. Misty was amused by the degree of confidence in such an average-looking woman. In keeping with the red-flame theme, the waitresses wore a tight-fitting, button-down top adorned with sequined flames and a short, fire-red, curve-hugging skirt.

  “Hi. I’m Felice,” she said, wearing a big smile that attested that she was extremely pleased with herself. Long shapely legs, a tiny waistline, and a set of what appeared to be double-D boobs had Felice thinking she was the shit.

  Misty wasn’t intimidated by a pair of big titties or a big ass. Shit, that was all the bimbo had going for her. Still, she was irked that Monroe was damn near drooling over the damn waitress when he wouldn’t even be up in this dip if it weren’t for her generosity.

  She peeped Monroe giving the waitress the eye. On the sly, the young buck was giving a subtle head nod, acknowledging appreciation of Felice’s body parts. His slimy attempt to communicate with Felice was irritating.

  The misbehavior on Felice’s part did not escape Misty. She saw the waitress flirt with Monroe, moistening her dark lips, and coyly fluttering her fake lashes.

  Uh-huh, I’ma deal with these two slimy bitches, later.

  With his eyes glued to Felice’s breasts, Monroe slowly pondered his liquor choices. “Um, lemme see…um…gimme a shot of Henny and um…a bottle of Bud.”

  “Give him a double Henny and a Bud,” Misty interjected sharply.

  “Thanks, shawty.” Monroe smiled at Misty and then his gaze wandered back to Felice’s boobs and lingered there.

  “Bring me a Gold Digger.”

  Felice tilted her head in bewilderment. “A Gold Digger? What’s that?”

  “Goldschlager Schnapps and champagne,” Misty explained. “The bartender should know how to make it,” she added with annoyance. “By the way, we’ll be sitting in my private booth over there.” With an arrogant smirk, Misty nodded toward a secluded booth in the back. “But we’ll have the first few rounds out here.” She gazed over the balcony and smiled. Monroe looked down also. “Enjoying the view?” She winked at Monroe.

  Monroe fixed admiring eyes on Misty. “Yeah, the view is all that. But damn, you got us a private booth and everything? Man, I dig the way you roll.” He bent down and gave Misty a quick peck on the lips. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” Monroe said, smiling.

  None too pleased that Monroe’s attention was no longer focused on her, Felice took the orders and sashayed away, showing off another physical attribute—her plump, nicely rounded ass. Monroe’s dick took notice and thumped inside his pants.

  The disrespectful flirtatious behavior that had gone on right under her nose was duly noted. Misty would handle the hot-to-trot waitress and ungrateful-ass Monroe in time. Right now, her mind was on Dane and her eyes were focused on the door.

  By the time Dane and his boys trudged in, Monroe was working on his third round of drinks. Misty, however, needing to keep a level head, was still slowly sipping her first gold-flecked drink.

  She watched Dane take in his surroundings. When he looked upward, spotting her and Monroe, Misty leaned toward Monroe. “Were you hitting on the waitress?” she asked softly. Monroe shook his head in denial. “Yes, you were! But I’m not mad at you. You can tap that ass, if that’s what you want.” Misty gestured excessively and spoke louder than necessary, trying to attract Dane’s attention.

  “Nah, nah. See. It wasn’t even about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’m still gonna let you get with me.”

  “For real?”

  “But there’s a catch,” Misty said teasingly.

  Monroe lifted his chin inquiringly.

  “You gotta fuck her first. Then you can have some of this.”

  “For real?” Excitement glinted in his eyes. Then, worry clouded his face. “How? You gon’ hook up a threesome at your crib, later on?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see how Miss Felice reacts after I give her a nice tip.”

  Encouraged by the promise of a ménage à trois and unaware that his boys had finally gained entry and were all watching, Monroe draped an arm around Misty and pulled her closer. She felt Monroe’s member swell against her hip as she glanced over the balcony and smirked down at Dane. Fuck with me, mufucka! Her smirk was met by Dane’s hostile glare.

  Misty enjoyed seeing the fury on Dane’s face. Even Ashy Cashy, as if he’d been personally slighted, looked mad as hell. His angry lips were turned down in scornful disapproval. She could feel the heat of their anger rising up to the balcony like a raging fire, but distance and the thumping club music prevented her the pleasure of hearing Dane and his crew’s scathing comment
s about her and the traitor, Monroe.

  Monroe towered over Misty. She had to stand on her toes to stroke his cheek and run her finger across his lips. “Been thinking about you, youngin’. I tried to get you outta my mind…” She shook her head regretfully. “But I can’t. That night with you was so good; I get hot just picturing your thick private. You’re well hung, like a stallion.”

  “So, if you was feeling me like that, why you push up on my cousin?”

  Misty shrugged. “Because of your age. You’re only nineteen.”

  “So what? I’m not a minor.”

  “You’re under twenty-one,” she reminded him. “But tonight, your age ain’t nothing but a number…” She moistened her lips. “I’m in the mood for some raunchy pleasure—how you feel about that, youngin’?”

  “I’m all up in it!” Grinning, he turned the beer bottle up to his lips for another pull.

  Misty reached up, fondled his neck. It was an intimate gesture, designed to send tingles up Monroe’s spine and put more fire in Dane’s jealous eyes.

  Ashy Cashy shifted his feet, agitated. He hollered something crude and gave Misty the finger.

  “Fuck you!” she mouthed over the blaring music, and also gave him the finger.

  Monroe looked down. Shocked that he’d been spotted by his crew, he raised his arms apologetically, as if being in Misty’s company was out of his control. Misty distracted him by rubbing her hand over his crotch, causing his length to stiffen. Gently, she circled the rounded head of his dick, rubbed softly until she felt moisture seep through his pants.

  Eyes closed, lips slack, Monroe quickly forgot about his friends on the floor below.

  Livid, Dane spat obscenities that she couldn’t make out. He glared at the illicit lovers with icy disdain.

  Putting on a show for Dane and his two irate cronies, she caressed the top of Monroe’s hand, which was placed palm down on top of the balcony ledge in clear view. With her fingertips, she invaded the area between his four fingers; enticing his flesh with soft, feathery caresses.

  Excited, Monroe’s breathing pattern began to change. “That feels good. Damn, shawty, you really know how to get a nigga heated.” Monroe kissed Misty, gave tongue, which she gladly accepted and returned the favor. Finally, enough was enough. She broke the kiss and searched the crowd below, straining her eyes to locate Dane; trying to gauge his reaction to the lustful exhibition taking place on the VIP level.

  Dane and the two street hustlers were advancing toward the dance floor to get a closer look at a big-behind woman, who was moving her ass and wiggling around like a stripper.

  A stab of disappointment sliced through Misty so deeply, her first impulse was to push Monroe away and then cuss him out for slobbering all over her face. But, she had a sudden change of heart. From her peripheral vision, she saw their busty waitress approach.

  “Are you two okay?” Felice asked. Her tone held the hint of an attitude.

  “We could be better.” Misty gave her a wide smile.

  Felice eyed Misty’s half-filled drink. “Do you want another one?”

  Misty shook her head and crooked her finger, gesturing that she wanted to speak privately. Monroe stepped back while Misty slipped Felice some folded cash and whispered an invitation for her to join her and Monroe in their private booth as soon as she could get a break.

  Moments later, seated inside the private booth, Monroe tipped his glass toward Misty. “Damn, you smooth as shit,” he praised, referring to the interaction between Misty and Felice. “She gon’ roll out with us when she gets off tonight?”

  “Yeah, she’s with it. So, don’t embarrass me. If you can’t handle two women, tell me now.”

  “Yo, I can take on five chicks,” he bragged.

  “Uh-huh. We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Carrying a tray with two Gold Diggers, two shots of Hennessy and another bottle of Budweiser, Felice joined Misty and Monroe inside the private booth.

  “Is it cool?” Misty asked Felice.

  “Yeah, I asked for an early break,” Felice responded, setting down the tray and then closing the privacy screen.

  “That’s whassup.” Misty gave Felice a wink.

  Out of the loop, Monroe looked inquiringly at both of their faces. “Y’all gon’ school a brother or what?”

  The two young women giggled conspiratorially. “So, how are we gonna work this? I only have twenty minutes,” Felice said.

  “That’s plenty of time, if the youngin’ can perform.” Misty smiled at Monroe.

  “What? Y’all ’bout to get into something right here in the club?”

  “Nervous?” Misty challenged.

  “Nah, I’m cool.”

  “Come join us.” Misty scooted close to the wall. Felice squeezed inside the booth, sandwiching Monroe between herself and Misty. She turned toward Monroe and pressed her firm, high-set breasts into his arm. “Hey, handsome. You feeling that Henny yet?”

  “Nah, I’m feelin’ you,” Monroe offered, words slurred, eyes flitting lustfully from Misty’s face to Felice’s big tits. He gazed at the private screen, which he could see through. “What’s that jawn made out of?”

  “Don’t get me to lying,” Felice replied. “All I know is we can see out, but can’t nobody see in.” She smiled. Her full lips separated, showing off dark gums and pretty white teeth.

  Misty nudged Monroe’s shoulder. “It’s playtime; let’s have some fun.”

  “What y’all tryna get into?” he wanted to know.

  Felice glanced at her watch. “A quickie ménage.”

  “A quickie what?”

  “Nigga, you wasting time,” Misty blurted. “We’re gonna let you do both of us. You have twenty minutes to make us both cum.”

  Felice checked her watch. “We only have sixteen minutes left.”

  Monroe’s dick throbbed excitedly and dribbled a few drops of desire. Getting into a threesome with two banging chicks was like a dream come true. He started to give a few suggestions on how to get the party started, but common sense told him to keep his mouth shut and let the women take charge. He had killed half a bottle of Hennessy, and was struggling with coordination and coherent speech. Misty and the big-titty waitress might change their minds about playtime, if they knew the hard liquor had him twisted.

  Allowing his hands to do the talking, he clumsily groped Felice’s boobs. Grabbing two handfuls, he squeezed greedily.

  “Slow your frisky self down,” Felice admonished, smacking Monroe’s hands. Misty gave Monroe an evil stare.

  Monroe laughed. “My bad. I couldn’t help myself.” Wearing a boyish smile, he held up both hands in mock surrender.

  Felice unbuttoned the tight-fitting top, revealing a white lace bra that contrasted nicely with her sepia-colored skin. She unfastened the front hook, releasing a set of voluptuous breasts. Monroe’s eyes bulged in appreciation.

  Monroe was twisted; Misty could tell. She quickly went to work before his drunken ass ruined her opportunity to exact revenge on Dane. She extracted a tube of lubricant from inside her purse and then placed her lips close to Monroe’s ear. “Suck on Felice’s titties and take your dick out for me.”

  He tried to maintain an impassive expression, but Misty’s heated whisper put a crooked smile on his face. Seated between the two sexy women, Monroe didn’t know where to start. He turned his head toward Felice. Her bared breasts bounced freely as she shook them against his face. A trembling hand frantically worked on unzipping his pants, while his other hand clumsily palmed a handful of big, cocoa-colored titty.

  The lewdness of such brazen, public debauchery aroused Monroe; his erection pulsed inside his pants. Greedily, he took in one of her dark-pearled nipples, captured it with hungry urgency, pulling and stretching the pliable flesh with his teeth.

  Finally, his zipper was down, but drawn to Felice’s succulent breasts, he returned his concentration to titty sucking and left his engorged dick inside his pants.

  Misty displayed the
tube of warming lubricant. “Do you want me to jerk you off?”

  Monroe, trying to swallow Felice’s ripened bosom, refused to be distracted.

  Misty popped Monroe upside the head. “I guess you don’t need my help, hungry mufucka. Whassup, you wanna grub on the bitch’s pussy?”

  Monroe made growling sounds that indicated giving Felice oral sex in a public place was a huge turn-on.

  “I guess it’s snack time,” Misty said petulantly, pulling Monroe by his collar. “So get between her legs and get yourself a Happy Meal, youngin’.”

  Uninhibited by alcohol, Monroe scooted down to his knees. His head quickly disappeared beneath Felice’s red skirt. Stirred by the sensual fragrance that emanated from between her legs, a soft groan came from the back of his throat. Passionately, he pulled her panties to the side and began licking, tasting the sting of her tart womanly flavor. Desiring more, he used his thumbs to pry apart her plump, inner lips. “Ooo, shit. You got some big, juicy lips,” he murmured. He plunged in his tongue, twisting it, burrowing deeply. He sucked her vagina, sipping softly at first—delicately. Then he slurped loudly, groaning as he lapped, using broad, wet strokes; his widened tongue coated with sugary cream.

  Slumped in the booth, her legs splayed, Felice writhed and moaned helplessly as Monroe sipped her thick nectar.

  Certain that her loud moans would get them all ejected, Misty slid over and silenced Felice with lips, enticing the waitress to feed from the sweetness of her mouth. Having done prison time, Misty was well-schooled in girl-sex. She pressed Felice’s large breasts together, then lowered her head, helping herself to the taste of double mounds of chocolate.

  Felice gave a surprised gasp. Overwhelmed, she clenched her eyes tight and drew in her lips, struggling to contain a scream of passion. Misty’s lips abandoned the swollen, sensitized flesh and quickly covered Felice’s mouth with a firm hand, cutting off the waitress’s ardent sounds. “Be quiet,” Misty hissed. “You’re drawing too much attention to us.”

  Felice bobbed her head in understanding. Misty removed her hand and returned her lips to Felice’s nipple and tentatively flicked her tongue against the ripened swell. Felice, struggling to maintain control, silenced herself by covering her mouth with her own hand as she arched up her chest, presenting her sensitive peaks to Misty’s hot lips.