An hour and a half later Sasha and Flame cruised from her hotel in his Ferrari in dead silence. The roaring twelve-cylinder whine was their sound bed as he flicked the paddle shifters. He kept telling himself to keep things simple, don’t give her any more fuel to get caught up, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from her thick thighs and soft red skin.
She was watching him too, studying his face, eyeing the bulge in his pants. Her eyes flitted back and forth from the vibrant city whizzing by them to Flame. All the while she still never uttered a word.
They made it to his apartment safe and sound, and Flame got the niceties out of the way (food and drink). Then they retreated to the theater room to finish watching American Gangster.
As Denzel laid his calculated dominance on the old New York, she snuggled up under Flame and made small talk while they sipped red wine from the same bottle. She was a great conversationalist and she eventually convinced Flame to open up to her about himself. He told her all about his humble upbringing on the streets of Fayettenam, North Carolina. He shared untold stories about his junkie mother and absent father. With defiant pride he proclaimed to her that Bunce Road had always been his daddy and the county jail was his momma.
She patted his hand as he talked and posed a weird question. “You ever shot somebody?”
Slowly he nodded. “Yeah, one time, but it was by accident,” he admitted. “Well, not by accident like that. I mean, I definitely had the gun and we were definitely trying to do him some harm. We were just trying to rob him, though, and he bucked the jack. Feel me?”
She was confused. “Buck the jack?”
“Yeah. That’s when you robbing somebody and they don’t want to give their shit up—that’s bucking the jack,” he explained.
“Ohhhh.”
“Yeah, so this dude was kinda bucking on me. So, when I went to, like, point at him to tell him to hurry up, the gun went off.”
“Ohhh, I see. Did you kill him?”
Flame shook his head. “Hell nah. Got him in the knee, but I scared me more than I scared him.”
They both chuckled, and she didn’t appear to judge him. She just nodded her understanding.
Then it was her turn to run down her bio. She told him more about her upbringing with her family. Their strength is what she recalled most. And the loving way her daddy treated her mother. That is, until it was revealed he had a mistress.
Flame sipped in silence as she laid down her burdens. It was a job pretending he wasn’t familiar with the story already. A few times her voice cracked, but she repaired it with more drink. Realizing she had grown uncomfortable, he changed the subject.
“What did you want to be when you was growing up?” Flame asked. “Always wanted to be an entertainer?”
She laughed. A good, hearty laugh. The kind that crumbled the gut. She even spilled a little wine on her shirt.
“What?” Flame wondered, laughing himself. “What did I say?”
She raised her palm. “Wait a minute. It’s just . . . hold on.” She laughed again. “Well, sort of.”
“Sort of? What’s so funny about that?”
“See . . . nah, you wouldn’t understand.”
“What?” Flame playfully wrapped her in his arms. “You gotta tell me, gurl.”
She giggled. “Okay, okay.”
“All right.”
“Well, when I was growing up . . . I wanted to be an exotic dancer,” she revealed.
Flame sucked his teeth. “Oh, that ain’t nothing. What, like, a belly dancer or something? One of them Vegas girls?”
“No, silly. A stripper.”
“A stripper?!”
“Yeah!”
“Why on earth would you want to be an exotic dancer—I mean, stripper?”
“Because! When I was younger they always seemed so powerful to me,” she explained. “I mean, to have a man’s undivided attention, to make him pay to look at you. What could be more powerful than that?”
Flame conceded that he could see her point.
“Sometimes . . . when I’m on stage . . . and I’m dancing . . . I imagine that I’m a stripper.”
“Aww, hell nah, that ain’t the same!”
“Why not?!”
“’Cause you’re only half naked on stage,” he joked.
“Shut up.” She smacked him upside his head.
“I’m just playing, but for real, though, why didn’t you ever do it? Lord knows you got the body for it.”
She blushed. “Because I was shy.”
“Shy?”
“Yeah! I didn’t think I’d have what it takes. Those girls work hard, you hear me. And of course, it would have embarrassed my family.”
Flame lit another blunt while she sipped her wine and continued to talk about the glory she would have had being a stripper. He blew smoke rings and watched them waft to the high ceiling. They were both feeling good, buzzed but not inebriated enough to lose all their inhibitions.
“I also didn’t know how I’d look. Thought I’d look crazy,” she continued.
At those words, an idea popped into Flame’s head while she was talking.
“I got an idea,” Flame said. “I believe you only live once, and you shouldn’t die with regrets,” he claimed.
She sucked her teeth. “What are you talking about? There is no way I could go out there and be a stripper now.”
Flame smiled. “You’re right. Maybe out there you can’t, but in here, it’s all about fulfilling your dreams. So, I got a way you can fulfill your dreams and see how you look.”
“What are you talking ’bout?”
“Unh-unh, don’t get scared now.”
Flame jumped from the chair and went to his AV closet. He fumbled around until he found what he was looking for.
“Flame, what are you doing with that camera?”
He ignored her pleas and set the camera up on a tripod in front of the table, facing the seats. He fiddled with a few wires on the projector and camera, and in seconds . . .
Voilà!
On his ten-foot screen her face appeared vibrant and strong.
“Flame, what are you doing . . .”
“We dream chasers in here, so we chasing our dreams.” He patted the table. “Come on, this your stage right here. Come on,” he beckoned and pointed to the screen. “You can dance and see how you look on the screen right there. Two birds with one stone.”
She blushed. “I don’t know about this.”
“Girl, please. It ain’t like I ain’t neva seen it.”
She smirked, leaned her head to the side in contemplation, and he knew he had her then.
Flame disappeared from the room. Seconds later, Sade’s “Ordinary Love” pumped through the whole apartment. His expensive surround sound system made it seem as if Sade herself was in the room.
“Ooh, that’s my song!” she cooed and started whining her hips on the couch. His homework had paid off. He’d read somewhere that Sade was her favorite artist.
“I know. Now hop yo’ ass up on that stage and let’s see you move, gurl.”
She stared at Flame for an eternity, boring her hazel eyes into him for a second, then smiled. “Okay.”
Flame took a seat on the chair and watched her climb up on the table, sweeping his weed bowl and glass figurine off with one swoop of her heels. Slowly, she began writhing her body to the beat. She wound her hips and poked her beautiful ass out toward him while fixing her eyes directly into the camera. In this way, he was able to enjoy her from all angles.
As the beat intensified, so did her movements. Flame pulled out a wad of cash from his Crown Holder jeans and skimmed bills onto the table, making it rain tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds, and just as if they were in a real strip joint, she rewarded the currency parade by removing her top. A nude-colored bra held her firm titties in place like a candelabra. Her hard, red nipples pierced the soft fabric and peeked out like a curious child.
Flame rewarded her with more bills.
She swu
ng her long hair around and faced him, but on the huge screen was a G shot of her famous ass. She bent over to show the camera what she was working with. Raised up. Squatted, bust it wide open. Brought it back. Bust it open again then turned around to face the camera. She gripped her titties in both hands and rubbed her nipples. She was infatuated by how beautiful she appeared on the screen. It was as if the light was hitting her just right, giving her a seductive glow. She couldn’t believe how good she looked. Gone were the parts of her body she felt self-conscious about. Present was her presence.
Flame encouraged her, chanting like Uncle Luke. “Take it off! Take it off!”
She bit her bottom lip, threw her head back, and closed her eyes. Then she flung the bra at his head. It landed and temporarily blocked his view. When he removed it, his eyes zoomed in on her melons plastered across the wide screen. Melons was the only way to describe them because they were round and plump like soft cantaloupes. Her nipples were as hard and red as cold cherries.
Flame stood and rained more money on her.
The music switched up to the “Art of Noise.” The driving hard bass beat only intensified things. Flame’s heart thumped between his legs on pace with the beat.
Thump thump . . . thump . . . Thump. Thump.
His playful smile was gone. It had jumped out the window with Sade. Lust returned. Lust invaded his face like a deep fog.
On the stage, Sasha faced him with her hands on her hips, boldly baring her beautiful body. Her breasts rose and fell as her chest heaved. Her wide hips threatened to burst through her skintight jeans, so Flame encouraged her some more.
He motioned toward her pants with the stack of money in his hand. “Take ’em off.”
Sasha smiled and responded by sliding her tight jeans down her wide hips, bending all the way down to her toes as she pulled her jeans with her. On the screen, her nude-colored thong bisected an ass so pretty it should have been in a museum somewhere. The farther she bent down, the more her perfect femininity peeked at the camera. She was so wet her panties were turning a different color.
Flame noticed her secretion, and his dick throbbed like a heartbeat on speed. He wanted to crawl inside her and beat the warning label off that pussy! Right now!
Sasha’s jeans got caught on her heels and she dropped her soft ass on the table while she tugged them off, granting Flame a full view of her center. Her lower lips spilled from the sides of the thin fabric of her panties. The panties could barely contain her plump jewel.
She stood back up on the table in nothing but her underwear and heels. She posed for Flame, gave the camera a pose then slowly started winding just like she did in her video, giving peep shots of her glistening wet cat. Each time she opened her legs for him he got a whiff of her scent. Not too sweet. Not too sour. Just strong and unrelenting just like a real woman was supposed to be.
She teased him, sliding her finger around the edg0es of her pussy lips through her panties then sniffing it. She slowly placed one finger in her mouth and licked it like a lollipop. Then she took that same finger and traced the edges of her lower lips, circling and swirling. With her other hand she peeled her panties to the side just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her neatly trimmed vagina. She eyed him as he eyed her. He was mesmerized, a slave to her rhythm. She felt powerful, omnipotent. She wasn’t just a woman. She was a goddess. A seductress. A raging lioness, and she had subdued her prey right where she wanted him.
Sasha extended her finger toward Flame like she was on stage pulling him from the crowd. She turned that finger over and beckoned him to her.
Flame stood and walked over to Sasha. He stood right in her face with his erection nearly poking her eye out and looked down at her as she looked up at him.
After all the teasing and evading, they were finally here, and it appeared they had reached the point of no return. Normally, Flame would have been dick-deep in Sasha by now, but he felt conflicted. Everything about this moment was so wrong, yet everything about it was so right. Their chemistry was on a zillion, and it wasn’t their inebriation. They’d always had chemistry, but he tried to deny it. Yet fate kept putting them together. Fate kept forcing his hand, so he had to play the cards he was dealt and think about himself. Fuck everyone else.
Flame stared at himself on the screen. On the wall, with Sasha’s back to him and him standing over her at eye level, it appeared she was giving him head. The vision, though not real, was real enough to take him over the edge of decision.
Flame looked down at Sasha and whispered, “He can never find out.”
Sasha gazed into his eyes and licked her lips. “He won’t.”
Sasha unzipped Flame’s jeans and pulled them down slowly. She saw his member hanging down his thigh through his boxer briefs, and she groaned. “Ummm . . .”
Sasha reached into Flame’s boxers and pulled out his long, thick dick, which had seen more action than Afghanistan. She gripped it and stroked it, then she put it in her mouth.
She put it in her muthafucking mouth.
Sasha sucked Flame like a pro, caving her cheeks in, giving him lots of spit and hand action. She even attempted to deep throat him, but at ten inches, that was just wishful thinking on her part. She used to be scared of the dick, now she was throwing lips to the shit, handling it like a real bitch. She was so good at it that Flame stopped her.
While R. Kelly crooned his song, “Throw This Money on You,” Flame pulled Sasha up from the table, and she followed him to the chair. He sat down and Sasha straddled him. Flame smacked her on her ass, prodding her to stand.
Sasha stood over Flame, her chest heaving, arousal gliding down her leg. She planted her feet into the seat with her heels on each side of Flame. Her beautiful gift was right above his head, leaking . . . steaming . . . begging . . . pleading to be pleased.
Flame raised his head, looked into Sasha’s hazel eyes. He pulled her panties to the side and attacked her pussy like he was breaking a fast.
Sasha released a moan that echoed throughout the apartment. She moaned so loud, she could be heard over the surround sound enveloping the room. It was as if her moans escaped from heaven, like the angels were singing Flame’s praises.
Flame opened her up with his fingers and plunged two digits deep into her center while he suckled on her engorged love button. She tasted like cinnamon, and her flavorful juices lathered Flame’s face like he was drinking from a mythical fountain.
Sasha gripped Flame’s head and cried out, “Fuck me, Flame. Please! Fuck me!” She panted, grinding her hot pussy into his face, riding his lips like a cowgirl.
Flame ripped off his shirt and jeans. An instant later, he had Sasha pinned to the table tattooing his own rhythm deep inside her walls as he clutched her waist and held on for dear life. He drove deep like he was digging for gold, pounding like a human jackhammer. He was going to beat it until the red light started beeping, warning him that it was too much. This is something he had fantasized about since he first saw her in a magazine years ago, a young dream materialized. Only Sasha was proving to be better than anything he could have imagined. Out of the thousands of women he had bedded, none could compare to her.
Flame looked up at the wall and saw the action in 4K. Sasha’s face showed pure pleasure, magnified to ten feet. Her damp hair was stuck to her sweaty forehead, and her head dangled dangerously from the table upside down. Her face was suspended in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Flame stabbed her center with ten inches of unbridled lust. And the camera captured it all.
Flame spared a mischievous smirk toward the camera, and it quickly melted as he felt his nut rapidly approaching.
Flame pulled out, his tool sticky and wet.
Sasha gasped and rubbed a flood of sweat from her forehead. “Whaaa . . . what are you doing?”
Flame ignored her pleas as he moved and sat on the table right in front of the camera with his legs splayed open. His dick jutted up from between his legs like a lighthouse. On the wall it looked like mammoth meat.
> Flame guided Sasha onto his shaft, reverse-cowgirl style. She slowly lowered herself on him, inch by inch, expelling air through her teeth as she slowly eased her way down. When he fully lodged himself inside, she squealed like a cat getting punished, like he was too much for her. But she didn’t stop until he was firmly lodged inside of her. Then she started rocking back and forth like she was trying to scratch an itch. Flame peeked over her shoulder at the wall and watched her clit swell right before his eyes, like a flower blooming from a bud. He especially got a kick out of seeing himself stretch her to capacity. Thick veins bulged through his skin, crisscrossing like a roadmap.
Sasha bucked hard like she was riding a bull, and her breath quickened. Flame reached around and played with her hard nipples, tweaked them like he was changing channels.
Sasha moaned louder and bucked harder.
Flame thumbed her clit, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
She moaned even louder.
He stuffed his wet fingers inside her mouth. Sasha moaned and sucked her juices until his fingers were clean. As she sucked his fingers he played with her clit with his other hand. She leaned and rocked on him harder and harder.
Then . . .
Her body shook violently as she lost control, moaning a variation of Flame’s name. She came hard and loud in a flood of release, squirting all on Flame’s hardwood floors. He watched her orgasm on the wall in HD. Her fluid was so thick and creamy he could have placed a cup down there and sold it at Mickey D’s. He felt her vaginal walls clench and release on him repeatedly until they seized up and held him in a nice grip.
He could no longer hold back.
Flame erupted so hard it was a wonder his seed didn’t shoot out through her mouth. He gripped her small waist and thrust his babies deep inside her, exploding like a fire hydrant. The sheer force shook them both as if they were enduring an earthquake. Sasha squeezed him with her inner muscles, milking him like a cow until every drop was inside her.
Miraculously, with no X pills or blue diamonds, after his eruption, Flame remained harder than a missile. He pulled Sasha from his lap and situated her so their bodies were sideways to the camera. Then he ran up in her like he had dreamed about so many times: doggy style.
Dirty Music Page 10