Twisted Vows of Seduction

by N’Tyse

  While she loved Jeff with every fiber of her being, she hated how selfish and inconsiderate he could be. How he was able to shut her out of his life, and how he always made her feel guilty for wanting more. Guilty for loving him. She hated feeling needy, and at times desperate for his attention. His love. It wasn’t fair and she was tired of trying to rationalize her misplaced feelings. She deserved better than this, she told herself as many times as she needed to.

  Nadine reluctantly picked up the cordless receiver. She didn’t really know exactly what would come out of her mouth if he answered, but she dialed the number anyway, telling herself that she shouldn’t be the one calling. Again.

  She promptly placed the receiver to her ear and cleared her parched throat. Despite the introspective pep talk, she hoped to get on one accord with Jeff, if nothing else. There was no reason they couldn’t be civil to one another.

  Hello, you’ve reached Jeff Jackson. Unfortunately, I’m away from my phone. Please feel free to leave your name, number, and a detailed message, and I will get right back with you at my earliest convenience. Beep!

  Nadine took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and tried to stomach that perturbed feeling resting in the pit of her gut. She stumbled over what to say, being careful not to piss him off more than he might have still been. Then she could guarantee he’d never call back.

  “Jeff, this is me, Nadine. We haven’t heard from you, and I…just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She rested on that last sentence before continuing. “I’ll be up for a little while if you’d like to talk…” She closed her eyes, reopened them, then shifted her position in the bed, “or come by. Just please…don’t do this again. Don’t shut me out.” She juggled the tears in her eyes. “We love you,” she said lastly, disconnecting the call.

  She placed the phone back on the cradle, and as if on cue, it started to ring. She waited for the caller ID display to register the name before answering. Seeing that it was Jeff’s number, she pressed TALK before the second ring, not wanting it to alarm her son and disrupt his sleep.

  “I was hoping you would call right back because I was just sitting here thinking about what I said last week, and I want you to know that—” Nadine’s apology fell incomplete once the angelic moans of a woman’s voice soared through the phone line. “Hello,” Nadine uttered barely as she eased out of bed. She stopped in her tracks once she was completely out of Canvas’s earshot, and pulled the phone closer to her ear.

  “That’s right, daddy. Fuck me! Harder!” the woman screamed.

  The loud grunts were all too familiar.

  “Jeff?” Nadine called out in the weakest of tones. Her breathing was jagged and shallow. The words that came to mind were unexpectedly clogged in her throat.

  “Whose pussy is this?” Nadine heard Jeff ask the woman.

  “It’s yours, daddy!”

  Nadine hung up. She couldn’t handle any more. She walked hastily, further into the main room. Her feet swept across the cold hardwood floor before arriving at the oversized Persian rug that covered most of the living area. She flopped down on the sofa and tried to catch her breath, but it felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Felt as if her heart had been ripped right out of her chest. Her body stiffened and her fists balled tightly at her sides.

  “Why is he doing this to me?”

  Nadine couldn’t bear the thought. Her bottom lip began to tremor and she felt a tingling, burning sensation in the back of her throat as she tried her hardest to suppress the inevitable, but it was useless. Within seconds, tears rounded her beautiful brown face, flowing like an endless river. It was that deep. That heartbreaking. Four years out of her life was what Jeff had taken from her. She had put her life on hold waiting for him, and this was the reward for her patience.

  Nadine began to mumble something that not even her own ears took seriously enough to translate.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t,” she said indistinctly, shaking her head at the truth revealed. More tears collected on her face, blurring her vision, even as she sat in the dark. She asked herself if this was another round of karma coming back to visit. Wondered if this was her punishment for having an affair with a married man—for bearing his child—for still sticking around long after the whistle had been blown. Or was it Denise, her longtime best friend and Jeff’s former deceased wife, haunting her for payback?

  The answers to those puzzling pieces escaped Nadine as she tried to come full circle with this once and for all. A trail of tears formed a puddle in the corners of her mouth. She drew in her bottom lip and her warm wet tongue got a taste of yesterday, last week, and the past four years. It was the taste of bittersweet memories, love, pain, and everything that fell in between. While Nadine knew it would be difficult to move on from Jeff, she realized it was time. It was apparent that he had no interest in taking their relationship to the next level, and for once in her life, she was tired of pushing the issue. It wasn’t getting her anywhere.

  The distress from the outcome of it all weighed so heavy on Nadine’s heart that she began to experience light chest pains. These exact pains were the onset of blood pressure problems that she had experienced throughout her entire pregnancy which caused her to threaten a miscarriage. It was a result of the subconscious stress she had inherited the second she’d gotten involved with Jeff.

  Nadine placed her left hand over her broken heart. To her surprise, it still had rhythm. Another pain soared through the center of her chest, making her gasp all at once. It validated what she had been thinking all along. It was time to let it go! If she didn’t, that man was going to send her to an early grave. She didn’t bother wiping away the hot tears that cascaded down her face. She eventually decided to go back to bed.

  Nadine vowed that this would be the last time that she’d ever allow a man to play Russian roulette with her heart. The last time that she would settle for a man who was not ready to make her his honest lifetime commitment—his wife. Last but not least, Nadine was taking a vow of celibacy. Sex complicated things and lately, Jeff’s mind-blowing, ten-piece of dark meat managed to not only be the fix she needed to knock the edge off, but it was the culprit nominated to incite her poor judgment.

  She pulled the covers over her body and stared at her son who was sleeping so peacefully, despite the hailstorm his parents were going through. She regretted believing that she was exempt from this type of pain. She wanted to scream and curse, but couldn’t. Wanted to throw things out of rage, but wouldn’t. She so badly wanted to pick up the phone and give that no-good-bastard a piece of her mind, but didn’t. She refused to reduce herself any more than she already had.

  Nadine had dehydrated herself emotionally. Her muscles began to ache and her head began to throb. Her eyelids grew heavy. She couldn’t refuse her mind and body any longer. Besides, she would need every bit of energy she had left for tomorrow. She was going to do something that she now knew she should have done a long time ago. She was going to take back her life. And the very first step in that direction was to change the locks on her door. Not only did Jeff hold the keys to her heart, he had convenience store-hours access to her pussy. But not anymore!

  2

  Jeff walked out of the restroom after flushing the Magnum condom he had just worn down the toilet. His semi-hard, ten-inch dick looked like it had been dipped and coated in several layers of rich dark chocolate fudge, then pumped with steroids as it seemingly hung between his knees. He slowly walked toward the bed, his eyes locked completely on her.

  “Ready for another round?” Ménage asked seductively as she spread her long, silky shaven legs into an expanding V, as if she were posing for a men’s magazine centerfold. She parted the lips of her juicy, tender pussy with two fingers to reward Jeff with a 3D experience, then teasingly twirled the tip of her pearl tongue.

  “Come on and finish playing this pussy like a harmonica,” Ménage squealed as she dipped one of her saucy fingers inside her orifice. She was wetter than before.<
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  Tonight Ménage wore her hair slicked back in a long straight Jeannie ponytail that stopped just above the split of her ass, with three-toned colored bangs, a silky jet-black and a strawberry-honey blonde. Her poetic tight hazel eyes, flawless butter pecan complexion, and stallion body was the envy of all the strippers at X-Rated, the popular gentleman’s club where she currently worked. It was also the spot where she’d met her lover, slash customer, slash suga daddy, Jeff. He was a godsend if she’d ever believed in one.

  Ménage hadn’t been in the stripping business long, but for the extent of time that she had, she was ready to get the hell out. She didn’t want to become trapped in the lifestyle of fast and easy money like many of her homegirls who had succumbed to it. She’d heard one horror story after another about women who were murdered, raped, beaten, kidnapped, or committed suicide, all because of the lifestyle. Then there were the few dancers whose age had caught up to them. They had lost their youth, their body, and all the money right along with it. And the real big-time spenders didn’t want a washed-up dancer. That was a no-brainer. They wanted and had to have the baddest bitch in the club. The chick that had body and knew every pole and pussy-popping trick in the stripper’s handbook. Ménage was that bitch, hands down. She was an anything-goes-behind-closed-doors type of chick and had the best pussy that money could buy. Most of all, she was known for her creative talent and mad sex appeal. She was undoubtedly the highest-paid dancer at X-Rated. And while her name came with local fame and money like clockwork, there was no way in hell that she could make a career out of stripping, nor was she trying to. She wanted to get in, make a little money, and get the hell out. And now that she had over forty grand saved in the bank and a little extra all-purpose cash on hand, she was ready to chase her real dreams.

  She’d had her share of experiences in the industry, but she felt it was time to get out while she still had a chance. Stripping wasn’t in her life plan; it sort of happened by accident. She had graduated from high school and was on the right track to a promising future until her dope-dealing boyfriend, Slug, got them caught up. He’d owed his supplier money from a score they’d fronted him, and when he’d failed to cash out, rumors started to spread like wildfire that a hit had been put out on him. So when Ménage had gotten word of that, she’d bailed out on Slug, ditched her hometown, Detroit, and fled to Dallas with the clothes on her back and the shoes on her feet. She didn’t even tell her family where she was moving. All they had been told was that she had accepted some high-paying job out of state. That was about two years ago and she never looked back, but the trio of bullets tattooed on the face of her pussy would always serve as a reminder of the life and the man that she’d left behind.

  While Ménage possessed the body and talent that made her big money, stripping was far from what she had her heart and sights set on. She was an aspiring actress and she figured it would take a miracle to happen before she ever got discovered in Texas. So this next move was going to put her in the real spotlight that she deserved. And whether Jeff knew it or not, he was going to help her get there.

  Jeff’s eyes never wavered from her hairless pussy. Her swollen glistening pair of lips called out his name, causing his nodding dick to swell and salute her all over again. She couldn’t believe that he had this type of effect on her, as much as she couldn’t believe that he was still rock-hard after busting that mighty big nut. He was seven years older than her, but his dick had the stamina of an eighteen-year-old. He had put a hurting on her pussy, but she wanted more.

  “You see what you do to him?” Jeff asked, pointing to his Gila monster of a dick.

  She parted her lips, then rolled her long tongue over the upper one. “I could always use some more protein, but then again, it looks like daddy’s dick is still hungry,” Ménage teased as her enticing eyes traveled his tall, chiseled, and lean physique. Jeff was over six feet tall, dark, handsome, and could beat the brakes off of a wet pussy. She could attest to his bedroom get-down and she was addicted to the pipe. Unlike her other customers, she never had to pretend with Jeff. He was the only man that could make her hotter than a sauna every single time they were together.

  “Tell mama you hungry,” she purred softly, bringing her wet sticky finger to her lips. She slid out her tongue and proceeded to suck her own sweet pudding right off of her finger. “Ummmm! Tastes like candy.” She smiled. She then reinserted her finger, pulled it out, and made her pussy blow bubbles. He enjoyed watching her do nasty tricks. Especially the different ways she made herself cum. She was sure her being a squirter had everything to do with it.

  “Damn, baby. You stay wet.” Jeff was obviously enjoying the peep show.

  “If you want some, come get some,” Ménage ordered him.

  Jeff took baby steps forward, his eyes drawn to her sweet carnation pink center as his steel-like pipe aimed in her direction like a loaded Smith & Wesson, ready to cause some internal destruction. Noticing his cell phone on the floor, he picked it up and tossed it back on the nightstand. Ménage watched on sheepishly, wishing she could have seen the look on that bitch’s face as she got an earful of the two of them going at it. She bet his baby mama was lying up sick right now after listening to another woman getting dicked down by her man. Ménage gave it her all not to burst out into laughter.

  Jeff climbed on the bed and crawled toward her. The desire to have him back inside of her mouth had sweat building on her tongue. She spread her legs as wide as they would go and upon that notion, Jeff lowered his entire face back into her yoni. She wrapped her legs loosely around his backside and fisted the sheets as he drove his tongue deeply inside of her.

  “Right there, daddy,” Ménage squealed as the tip of Jeff’s tongue put a gentle spanking on her clit, driving her insane.

  “You like that?” Jeff asked, nudging his nose against her arousal as his tongue seesawed between her slippery folds.

  Ménage’s eyes were practically rolling in the back of her head. “Oh yessss!” she hollered.

  Jeff slid his right middle finger inside of her while his tongue paddled through her recurring waves. Ménage placed her hands on the back of his head, propped a leg over his nice tight ass, and fed it to him right.

  “I’m about to cum, baby!” Ménage announced. Soon as the words left her lips, Jeff stopped, flipped her over on all fours, and began devouring her from behind. He slapped her on her ass and reacted at how it bounced back against his face. “Ooohhh shit!” Ménage moaned, pulling at her left nipple ring, loving the pain that it brought.

  “This what you wanted, huh?”

  “Yessss, daddy. Punish this pussy!” Ménage sang. “Don’t cheat me outta my fucking nut!” Ménage could tell by how hard his dick felt against her ass that he was on the brink of explosion. He blindly reached on the side of him and grabbed the last rubber out of the Magnum pack. He slipped it on quickly all while he continued his feast, forcing her to reach a climax so big that she squirted all over his face.

  He lifted his face from her crotch and took his tongue skinny-dipping along the river banks of her asshole. “I’ma teach you to stop nutting until I say when—” Jeff stopped mid-sentence when they heard a pounding knock on the door. He was hard as tree lumber and about one second away from making his grand entrance inside of her before the abrupt interruption.

  Ménage stiffened all at once and then rolled over onto her side as the second round of knocks came.

  “You expecting somebody?” Jeff asked, his face pulled into a scrunch.

  Ménage checked the time. “No, I’m not expecting anybody this late.” She jumped up from the bed and hurried over to the dresser. She threw on a white tank and a pair of lime-green, low-rise terry shorts that made her ass look twice as big, then practically power-walked toward the front door. She looked out the peephole before cracking it open. It was her neighbor and good friend, Tiffany, from directly across the hall.

  When Jeff heard the front door open and close, his guard came up. He cursed under his breath as
he threw his boxers and jeans on as fast as he could. A million things ran through his mind as he dressed. One of them was whether it was one of Ménage’s customers. A hint of jealousy crept over him, but he quickly dismissed it. Although Ménage wasn’t what he would ever classify as his woman, she was indeed his lover, his comforter, and his newest addiction. In only a short year, she had replaced all the things that Nadine used to be at one point, and more. In that short time span, Jeff had grown to care for Ménage, but that was about as far as he would allow his feelings to go for her, or for any woman. His pride had been walked on, his feelings pissed on, and his heart shitted on—all by a damn woman. A woman that he once proudly claimed as his wife. He had been betrayed in the worst way and he didn’t know if he would ever recover.

  A major chain of events had his mind and his heart in a screwed-up place right now, and all a woman could do for him was reward him with some no-strings-attached-conversation and some have-it-your-way-on-the-go pussy. That was all he expected and needed from a woman—pussy and conversation—it was all that he would allow a woman to give him generously. He didn’t need or want an emotional deposit. That was a personal investment that he knew she would never get a return on, because emotionally, Jeff had checked the hell out. The invisible scars across his chest suggested that he wasn’t built to love or trust anybody else. His player’s card had been restored and it was time to put that baby to maximum use and catch up on lost time. The days of feeling obligated to one woman and being boggled down with one woman, were history. He was a free man, mentally and physically, and free men did whatever the hell they wanted to, when they wanted to, without the restrictions.

  Jeff headed into the living room and found the front door wide open. He could faintly hear Ménage arguing with someone outside as their voices carried into her second-floor apartment. He hurried down the stairs and trudged toward the commotion brewing in the parking lot, unsure as to what was going on.