With This Ring

by Allison Hobbs

  “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He gave her a smile that didn’t seem sorry at all. Then he gazed at her for a few beats with those gorgeous light-brown eyes. Momentarily dazzled by his striking looks and his enviable thick, long lashes, Nivea studied his face.

  In the split seconds that she was mesmerized, Mr. Handsome quickly kicked off his sneakers and socks and whipped off his shirt, revealing a mouthwatering display of musculature and caramel-toffee-colored skin.

  “Seems like you’re in a little distress and I thought I might be able to help you,” he said as he boldly came out of his shorts. With his workout gear tossed in a heap, he was stripped down to only a pair of briefs as he lowered himself in the water.

  “What do you think you’re doing? How dare you invade my privacy?”

  “Let me help you out.”

  Nivea wrinkled her nose and recoiled. “Get away from me. I’m not in distress and I don’t need your help. Just leave me alone…please!” Ordinarily, it would have been extremely embarrassing to be caught masturbating, particularly in a public place, but Nivea was too furious by the audacity of the conceited, pretty boy to feel anything except indignation.

  “Hey, I’m not looking for anything in return.” He softened his tone. “Just relax and let me suck your pussy. Would you let me do that?”

  Whoa! Had she heard him right? Little jolts of electricity instantly began shooting through her coochie.

  His pretty eyes gazed downward. His laser-sharp gaze seemed to penetrate the water, zooming in on her most intimate part, prompting it to involuntarily contract. Nivea had a weakness for getting her pussy eaten in unexpected places.

  “I want you to cum in my mouth,” he stated with a stoic expression.

  Oh, God! Such crude words never sounded so sweet. But Nivea was noncommittal, glancing around the room as she gave the freaky offer some thought. I’m not like that anymore; I don’t have sex with random partners, she reminded herself. On the other hand, I’d be a fool to turn down oral sex from this kinky-ass, pretty boy.

  While Nivea struggled with her the moral dilemma, he gripped her by the waist, lifting her up and placing her rump on the ledge. I guess one last hoorah won’t hurt, she concluded.

  He rested his forearms on either side of her, palming her ass as he pulled her closer. “Open up,” he gently prodded.

  Uncertain if she should slip back into the ways of her slutty past, Nivea sat quietly for a moment, pondering his request.

  “You know I want you,” he said. “Been wanting to taste you from the moment I first saw you.”

  She was aware that he wasn’t confessing any sincere emotions or even admitting to a physical attraction. He was bluntly stating that he hungered for her pussy; he wanted to dine between her legs. During her sex binges last year, Nivea had developed a taste for impromptu, freaky sex. She glanced at him, wondering what his story was. Did he select the pussy he wanted to eat based on a specific body type or did her pussy throw off a certain, alluring scent?

  “Just this once,” she said firmly, and then looked around. “But suppose someone comes in and catches us?”

  “Nobody’s coming in here.” He shook his head and widened his eyes, striving to convince her. Those beautiful, light-brown eyes, clearly his defining characteristic, were so bright and vibrant, they seemed to give off a glow.

  Feeling a pinch of worry, she tilted her head toward the door.

  “Seriously, it’s okay. I wanted to be alone with you for a few minutes…you know, to talk to you and find out why you keep giving me the brush-off, so I locked the door. And I’m glad I did.” He smiled and this time his smile didn’t seem arrogant.

  Not sure if she should trust the guy, Nivea gave a grudging smile.

  “Are you going to let me eat your pussy?”

  The question was so unnervingly provocative, she winced as a flash of heat blazed through her, melting away her resolve. Somewhat breathless and unable to speak, she responded by slowly spreading her legs.

  Standing before her in the hot tub, he began the sweet seduction by rubbing the stretch of fabric that concealed her mons pubis. He stood there, caressing and fondling her pussy with large hands that possessed a slow and gentle touch. His hands didn’t wander to her breasts. His eyes didn’t steal glances at her face. He concentrated on her crotch, tracing circles on her hardening clit, and sliding a finger up and down the crease of her pouty, inner lips. He stroked and massaged until honeyed moisture dampened his fingertip.

  “Take this off,” he urged, tugging at the strap of her swimsuit.

  “I can’t get naked in here.” Her eyes darted about nervously.

  “Yes, you can. Nobody’s gonna bother us.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Let me see that beautiful body you’ve been working so hard on.” He cracked a sexy smile. “And stop trying to hide that pussy from me.”

  Still feeling uneasy but definitely aroused, Nivea pulled down the top of the swimsuit. Her full breasts spilled out and jiggled free. He groaned in approval. Before she could finish peeling off the swimsuit, he gravitated toward her bared skin. His eager hands pushed her luscious mounds together. He lowered his head, covering her nipples with soft kisses before puckered lips gently tugged on a nipple.

  Nivea could feel the last dregs of breast milk being siphoned from her body and she was mortified. Her face aflame, she pulled away, crossing her arms over the breasts that had betrayed her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was any milk…” She dropped her gaze and stammered, “I…I recently weaned my baby.”

  “Shh. It’s okay; I think it’s sexy.” He unclasped her arms, revealing her plump, lush breasts.

  It was weird—in a good way—that he thought her leaking tits were sexy. Leaning in, his eager mouth closed around one nipple and then the other, his suckling lips giving Nivea tingling sensations that were strangely sensual.

  After he’d had his fill, he raised his head and kissed her deeply. His tongue tasted sweet and tangy, an oddly pleasant combination—a milk and orange juice flavor.

  She arched upward, assisting, as his busy hands peeled the bottom portion of her swimsuit from her body. He broke the kiss and observed her nakedness, and Nivea wasn’t the least bit self-conscious about her pudgy tummy or any bodily flaws that lingered after giving birth. Oddly, she felt completely flawless and absolutely beautiful beneath his heated gaze.

  And when he stooped down, pressing his mouth against the triangle of pulsing flesh between her legs, Nivea practically convulsed. She’d been sex-deprived for so long, her pussy was leaking profusely as if crying tears of joy.

  Releasing a blissful sigh, she opened her legs wider, urging him to penetrate her pussy with his tongue. But he had other ideas. His head turned back and forth as he brushed his soft lips across her lower region, and then teased her clit with the tip of his tongue.

  Oh, God, this is torture. Eat my pussy; eat my pussy, eat my pussy…please, she chanted over and over in her mind. But neither her secret mantra nor her desperately winding hips persuaded him to give her what she wanted.

  Frustration soon turned into aggression. Succumbing to a burst of rage, she grabbed the back of his neck and demanded in a coarse voice, “Eat my fuckin’ pussy!”

  Apparently, he wasn’t the sort of man that did what he was told. As if he hadn’t heard her, he continued the leisure licking, with the tip of his tongue alternately circling and flicking her clit until the nubby appendage emerged from beneath its fleshy hood, throbbing with ardent desire.

  Delirious with passion, Nivea dug her nails into the side of his neck, moaning pitifully and muttering incomprehensibly.

  Showing a little mercy, he let up on the clit-licking. His tongue slid along the seam of her labia and then teased the sensitive lips apart. At last, he stabbed into the exposed and needy orifice, driving Nivea wild. Anxious little pussy muscles tried to clutch around his tongue, but he didn’t linger in one area long enough for her pussy to get a good grip.

>   The things he did with his mouth were scandalous. Soft pussy kissing was followed by sudden tongue-thrusts and tongue-twists, a sort of oral gymnastics that caused Nivea to whimper, made her toes curl up tightly.

  Sensing that she was dangerously close to releasing a long, scary, half-crazed-sounding howl, his long arm reached upward and muted her by clamping a hand over her mouth. For some odd reason, she was further aroused by his palm pressed against her lips, and couldn’t suppress the urge to taste him.

  While he slurped at her nether regions, she licked and sucked the center of his palm. It made no sense, but she couldn’t help herself. And judging from the way he began to ravage her pussy, delving deeper and sucking more ardently, he was apparently turned on by what she was doing.

  So turned on, he came out of the water, slid off his briefs and stretched her out on the wet, tiled floor. Growling softly, he climbed on top of her and plunged inside her warm depths. He fucked her without tenderness; his thrusts were rough, brutal, savage-like as he strived to enliven a pussy that had been unattended for far too long. It was as if he knew exactly what Nivea needed.

  Teeth gritted, Nivea struggled to hold back a shriek that was rising in her throat. This time, she took the initiative, groping around until her hand clenched his wrist. On her own volition, she drew his hand to her face and sealed his palm against her mouth. And when his dick pushed against her special spot, her strident scream was muffled inside his cupped hand.

  “That was crazy,” he said, sticking a leg into his shorts and shaking his head in pleasant bewilderment.

  “Real crazy,” she agreed with a wistful smile, though already regretting having lost control of her morals. Nivea struggled into her wet bathing suit and wondered how this sex slip-up would affect her. Now that she’d reverted back to her old ways, were more adventures in whoredom waiting right around the corner? For her daughter’s sake, she hoped not. Her child deserved a mother with sound judgment and moral integrity.

  She also wondered if Mr. Handsome would start avoiding her at the gym, now that he’d had his way with her. It didn’t matter. Although he was a damn good fuck, it was highly unlikely that she’d turn into a dick-whipped stalker. The next time she bumped into him, she’d make it a point to ignore him and act like absolutely nothing had happened between them.

  “We’ll have to get together again. Soon, I hope,” he added with what Nivea interpreted as a patronizing smile.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.” She wrapped a towel around her waist and took a few steps toward the door. Feeling ashamed of her lack of self-control, she was more than ready to get out of there.

  “Oh, it’s like that?”

  She stopped walking and turned around. “Like what?”

  “You’re just gonna use me and leave without even offering your number.” A shadow fell across his face. He looked sad. Almost forlorn. But Nivea wasn’t falling for his pitiful act. For a hottie like him, women came a dime a dozen. Nivea didn’t know who he thought he was fooling.

  She put a hand on her hip and arched a brow. “We both got we wanted, didn’t we?” she asked challengingly. She didn’t appreciate him pretending that he wanted to take things further. Why did men always feel the need to play games? It was their egos. They couldn’t stand it when a woman could get her sexual needs met and then walk away, without appearing the least bit needy.

  “I was hoping to get to know you better.” He did something pouty with his mouth that was sinfully sexy, and she glanced away from his face, refusing to fall into his trap.

  “You just finished fucking me; you can’t know me much better than that,” she said with a wry smile.

  “Why’re you being so hard on me?”

  Nivea shrugged and turned away, leaving him to wonder. She’d won the battle and it felt good. Before she reached the door, she heard the rattle of keys and the door suddenly opened.

  A young, skinny blonde entered the room, holding a binder. She blinked in surprise at Nivea, and when she spotted him, her eyes widened and her face reddened as if she’d caught her man cheating on her. Squaring her shoulders, she visibly pulled herself together.

  “There you are, Malcolm,” the blonde said in a perky voice and rushed to him. “I’ve been calling your cell and looking everywhere for you. Something’s up with the delivery of the new equipment—some sort of delay. I tried to handle it, but the manufacturer’s rep won’t talk to anyone but you,” the blonde said.

  “Thanks, Heidi.”

  “I’m only doing my job,” she replied and patted Malcolm’s arm and then slid her hand downward in a sneaky sort of caress. She opened the binder and began speaking softly, showing him something that was work-related, something that made him furrow his brows and give his full attention to.

  While Malcolm frowned and turned pages, no longer concerned about getting to know Nivea better, the blonde moved closer to him and made an oh, you poor baby overture, patting his bicep and shaking her head, commiserating with him over the bad news. She cut an eye at Nivea, making sure she’d gotten the message: He’s mine; stay away!

  Nivea was sorry she’d witnessed the exchange between Malcolm and the skinny employee. Before the blonde opened the door, Nivea had no idea what his first name was and didn’t know he was affiliated with the gym in some capacity. If only she’d kept walking, she would have won the battle between the sexes. But now, a twinge of jealousy squeezed at her heart. And that was followed by a surge of anger that propelled her furiously toward the door. Instead of the victorious exit she’d intended, she walked out the room feeling like a woman scorned.

  VANGIE

  “What’s good, ma?” Alphonso asked over the phone in a lustful tone.

  “I’m good,” she said drearily.

  “You sound a little down, but don’t worry; I got the cure for whatever’s ailing you.” His words were thick with sexual innuendo, as if he could really back them up.

  Nigga, please! Vangie could use an hour-long dick-down, but Alphonso sure as hell couldn’t deliver it.

  “I’m in town—at the Ritz-Carlton. Why don’t you put on something sexy and come through?”

  It was a damn shame the way Alphonso popped up on her whenever he got good and ready and expected her to jump, but if she wanted to continue enjoying some of the finer things in life, she had no choice. It was also a damn shame that she didn’t have the heart to confront him about the gun he’d placed in her son’s hand. Cussing him out the way she wanted to could possibly end their special friendship. The best she could do was to make sure that Yuri was at her mom’s house whenever Alphonso visited.

  Vangie took a deep breath, and then another. She was furious with Alphonso, and blamed him for her plight in life. Harlow was living like royalty, and even Nivea had had a life-changing come-up. And worse, that ratchet project queen, Jojina, was planning a wedding with the love of Vangie’s life. While everyone else was making major strides, Vangie was caught in limbo—still living in the same apartment building she’d been in for the past three years, still driving the same car, and it seemed she’d be single forever.

  Fucking around with Alphonso and assuming he was her Prince Charming had been a huge mistake. She had nothing except shoes and handbags to show for the time she’d put in with him. Now he was summoning her so he could literally bang her. Foolishly clinging to the hope that she might one day become his wife, she was afraid to refuse his request.

  “What’s your room number?” Vangie asked through clenched teeth.

  “Same as usual,” he replied.

  Vangie glanced at the clock. It was too late to go shopping, and she hoped he didn’t assume that their last shopping trip was still good for another roll in the hay. Shit, her pussy wasn’t on retainer; she needed a steady stream of gifts to be able to fuck him. One thing about Alphonso, he wasn’t cheap. Most likely, he’d brought her something exquisite from London. She brightened up imagining him handing her a shopping bag from Harrods department store.

  “Oka
y, I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  “See you soon, ma,” he said and hung up. He hardly ever called Vangie by her name. Always referred to her as Ma, which was impersonal and a reflection of how emotionally detached he was from her.

  Vangie shouldn’t have been upset with Alphonso; she only had herself to blame. From jump, she’d acted docile, accepting his bad sex and disrespect in the hopes that being patient and understanding would encourage him to marry her. She’d obviously played herself. Alphonso spent money on her like water because he had it like that, not because he gave a damn about her. She was nothing more than his personal fuck-piece.

  And since he wanted to treat her like a damn whore, then he was going to have to start coming off some cash instead of giving her what he wanted her to have. If he wanted to keep her as a special friend, then tonight he needed to open up that safe in his hotel room and lay some cold, hard cash across her palm! Fuck if she was going to continue living from paycheck to paycheck while Harlow and Nivea were enjoying the good life.

  Dressed in a short, sparkly skirt, heavy makeup, a pair of fuck-me heels, and a blonde wig she’d worn on Halloween, Vangie arrived at Alphonso’s hotel suite looking like a hooker.

  “Damn, ma!” he said, looking at her with a horny gleam in his eyes.

  “Hey, baby,” she greeted in a sultry tone of voice. “I missed you while you were in London. Both of us did.”

  “Both of y’all? Who…you and Yuri?” He gave her a baffled look.

  Vangie licked her lips and shook her head. “Me and she,” she responded, brushing her fingers against her crotch. “We missed all of that.” Boldly, she gave his dick a quick squeeze.

  “Oh, damn. I like your freaky side. You need to let me see this side of you a lot more, ma.”

  “Don’t call me ma.”

  “Why not?”

  “I want you to call me by my slut name.”