Damn right, I thought as I satisfied my bruised ego with a little bullshit mental swagger. Something big had already happened. Right down in the front of my pants. With butt-naked visions of Honey dancing in my head, I fled toward my locker to grab my lotion so I could lock myself in the bathroom and satisfy the crazy black snake that lived in my pants.
Chapter 6
Her pink slit glistened with juice as Byron Ford dug her out. She’d scooted her naked ass to the edge of the high-profile bed and was moaning and thrashing around like she was starring in a porn video. Blow couldn’t even remember her name, but he stood beside the bed holding her left leg high in the air. He slid into her with short, hard strokes as he tried—without success—to hit the back walls of her pussy.
“Oh, you stud!” the pretty white girl cooed, with her eyes closed tight. “You’re hurting me! Not so deep! Yes, screw me, you beast! Pound my cunt! Your cock is magnificent! You’re the best lay I’ve ever had!”
Blow was bored. He gazed down at her pink nipples and blond hair and tried not to yawn. The girl had a decent body, but she was a poor liar. Blow knew damn well he had a small penis. Nobody had to tell him that. From the time he was playing junior high school basketball and taking showers after gym class, he’d been well aware of his inadequacy. Not that every guy on the team had a tree-trunk dick, neither. Blow was far from gay, but he couldn’t help peeking at the competition. Some of the other guys were less than hung, too. They had what Blow felt would be considered average-sized dicks. Not too big and not too small. Looking down at his own equipment, Blow realized his was definitely on the short end of the ruler. It was thick enough to pass, but not long enough to do any damage.
Just one more inch on his pole might have made a difference to Blow’s young ego, but even though he’d tried every dick-enhancement exercise he’d heard about and sent away for endless mail-order penis enlargers, in the end nothing had worked, and Blow had learned to accept his shortcoming and put himself in situations where it really didn’t matter.
Like now, with the nameless white whore fronting beneath him on the bed.
Blow was a sister lover at heart, but every so often his ego needed more stroking than his dick did. At those times, he’d find him a white girl whose only goal in life was to make him feel big. In all areas.
Black girls were just too honest. They didn’t give a damn about your ego. Fuck the fact that he was rich and a baller too, sisters wasn’t trying to pull no punches when it came down to the package. Too many times Blow had gotten with a black chick who expected him to live up to the myth.
“Uh-uh. Uh-uh. Why you playing with me like that? Big as you is? All them damn muscles? Well what happened to the one down there? Man, you real cute and all, but you gotta come better than that!”
And even those who didn’t complain out loud often made him uncomfortable just by their silence. He’d be on top working that wet hole like a football was stuck inside it, and they’d be laying there staring at the ceiling or examining their fingernails or some rude shit like that.
To compensate, Blow had become a pussy-eating fool, and these days by the time he stuck his dick in a sister he made sure she’d already come more times than she wanted to. That pussy would be so wet and slick when he got ready to stick his meat in there that the girl probably figured if she couldn’t feel him deep enough then it was her fault that her pussy was loose, not his fault for having a short dick!
His cell chirped on his nightstand and the white girl moaned louder.
Still thrusting his hips back and forth, Blow reached for it.
The girl got louder. “Daddy, yes. You’re fucking me so good! Your cock is amazing. You’re making me cum…you’re making me cum…you’re making me—”
“Shut up,” he told her. He looked at the caller ID, then slid his wet dick out of her and turned away.
“Hey, whassup, gorgeous?” Blow spoke into the phone. “You got something good for me?”
Behind him the girl lay on the bed just as he’d left her. Leg up in the air and eyes screwed closed.
“Damn, baby. Two condos at a price like that? That’s hot! It’s a good thing I found you because you smart as hell! Beautiful too. I tell you what. How about I cook you some dinner tonight? Just to celebrate?”
Listening as the diva on the line made a few bullshit excuses, Blow broke out in a genuine grin. This sister was amazing. Not only was she the bangingest woman he’d met in years, she was multitalented and tops in all areas.
A few weeks earlier he’d received a card in the mail from a Miss Teesa Blake regarding prime real estate ventures. The woman pictured on the card was stunning, and the card had listed the names of several top professional athletes who had benefited from her services. Since he’d always been interested in amassing property, Blow had given her a call.
They’d met for coffee on a Thursday, and by Sunday Blow was in love. Tee was so hot and fine that it was almost unreal. He couldn’t even keep up with her conversation because he was too mesmerized by her stunning brown skin and striking features.
“So,” she had said almost as soon as he sat down at their first meeting, “what I do is find lucrative deals for clients who have the capital to invest but just don’t have the time to do the market research. Some of my deals are made nationally, but lately I’ve been finding some pretty amazing property across the borders and overseas too. It all depends on the timing, which is why I typically limit my clientele and only deal with those who can make quick decisions on the move and have enough money to strike while the iron is hot.”
Blow was all for that. Her teeth were amazingly white, and her flawless skin looked like light brown sugar. Her black hair was thick and wavy, and the way she had it styled brought out all her great features. Gazing into her brown eyes as she spoke, Blow knew he could go for any damn thing this girl dished out. He was just about tired of all the stupid groupies, tired of the endless, nameless, faceless, emotionless fucking. The girl sitting across from him had a brilliant mind to go along with that angelic face and dick-crushing body, and with all his fame and all his money, a woman like her was something Blow was missing from his life.
And right now, even under the threat of revealing his small dick, and with the dumb broad laying there showing her pink pussy on the edge of his bed, Blow wanted Tee. He wanted her real bad, and he would have said and done anything to have her.
“C’mon, Teesa,” he begged into the phone. “Just this once. You said they call you Ice Tee but you ain’t gotta be so cold! You can trust me, I swear. I owe you, baby. You’ve found me a lot of good property over the last few weeks and I appreciate that shit. I know you don’t like mixing business with pleasure, but your business is my pleasure. C’mon, sweetie. Let me cook you dinner. I’ve got my mother’s shrimp scampi recipe and it’s off the hook. I’m serious. You’ll love it.”
Blow listened as he walked over to the window and peeled off his wet condom.
“What? Yeah, I know you’re a Realtor and a psychologist, too! But that don’t mean you know what’s in my head!” He laughed loudly, stroking his hardening erection and forgetting the dumb trick on the bed behind him who was still holding up her leg.
“Okay, okay, so how about this then…let’s eat out. You pick the restaurant and the time, and I’ll swing by your crib and drive you there, okay?”
Blow crossed his fingers as he listened to her try to talk her way out of it, but he was relentless. Five minutes later she finally gave in, and Blow couldn’t believe his luck.
“Yeah!” he shouted, forgetting all about the white chick on his bed. “You just made a damn good decision, baby girl. Thanks, Tee. For giving me a chance. I promise, baby, you won’t ever regret it.”
Dinner with Tee was off the chart. Blow was bent. Shook to the bone by her beauty and by her spectacular smile. The girl was it. She was tantalizing, intelligent, and built for a man’s comfort. She was a Harlem girl and had a quick, shrewd mind for business, but Blow could also see
that she had a big heart as well. Tee struck him as the type who would throw down for the underdog, and he found every little thing about her cute and remarkable. The way she held her head to the side when she laughed, the way she sipped her iced tea then dotted her mouth with a napkin. She had shine on her. Sunshine. Blow watched her as they ate, and even though he joked and laughed and kept up with their conversation, in the back of his mind he was busy banging the hell outta sweet Ice Tee.
He knew just how he would handle her, too. Like she was a high-end Mercedes-Benz. Wouldn’t be no holding her leg up and tryna get in her belly while gutter shit flew outta her mouth. Nah, he would play nice with that professional punanee first. Get it to the right temperature and then stir some thick cream into that coffee.
Blow envisioned Tee laying on her stomach with her round ass high in the air. He wanted to taste her from the back. Stick his nose all up in her stuff like he was her puppy dog. Under the table, Blow’s dick got hard as he envisioned licking her out. He wanted to part her ass mounds and open her wide, then take his time and nibble and suck and lick until she was begging for the dick.
And then he’d slide his hands up her tight waist and play with those big titties while tagging her from behind. Slowly and gently, treating her like a lady as he made sure she was completely satisfied. There wouldn’t be no bedroom complaints coming from a lady like Tee. This sister had manners, and she was intelligent enough to know that not every black man was gonna be swinging a long rope. Nobody could control what size dick they got handed in life, and Blow knew Tee would appreciate his efforts to make her feel good without making him feel like less than a man.
“What do you think about building wealth in Mexico?” Tee was asking. Blow coughed and brought himself back. He’d been watching her lips move, but his attention had been completely focused on that other set of lips she possessed.
“I got wind of something off the record,” she continued, her voice dropping to a slight whisper, “that could generate a huge return. I’m talking huge. I have to do a little more research, but if it pans out are you interested in hearing about it?”
Blow forced himself to pay attention to what was coming from her mouth. Already he respected her mind. He really did. But right now, sitting close enough to feel her heat, his thoughts were firmly wedged between her legs.
“Yeah,” he answered softly, his voice thick from wanting her. He needed to touch her. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and laid his big hand on her thigh. He had expected a slap or some kind of rejection and was relieved and encouraged when all Tee did was smile. “Hell, yeah,” he continued. “I’d be down with that Mexico shit. I’m down with whatever you’re pushing, baby. You get all the details together and I’ll follow your lead. Just tell me where to sign.”
Chapter 7
I was licking barbecue sauce off my fingers the first time I met Blow’s latest diversion, Ice Tee. Now, y’all already know my weaknesses. I’ve owned up to my issues and fessed up about my little problem. But if you thought my man downstairs zoomed north at the sight of Sugar and Honey, well baby I shoulda been arrested on the spot for the way old Oscar acted up at the sight of Ice Tee.
It was ten o’clock at night and the rib joint was packed out with wall-to-wall niggahs. Rainey’s had the best damn ribs north of Texas, and I’d grubbed down in enough pork holes from New England to Florida to know what I was talking about. Every seat in the house had an ass in it, and people were lined up at the counter and crowded around the bar, too.
The front door had been swinging all night long. In fact, Rainey shoulda gone and had one of those revolving joints installed because that bad boy didn’t stay closed for more than a minute or two at a time.
But this time when the door swung open I could tell something was up. In fact, the whole damn restaurant went mute. All action came to a halt and not a jaw moved as this chick pranced in on Blow’s arm looking like she shoulda been bronzed and worshipped. Sauce dripped from my lip and hit the table. She came up in the joint wearing some shiny red pants and sporting a nice fat camel toe. Her sukkey-print was bold and defiant in them hot pants. Her thick pussy lips were separated and spread open east and west. I stared hard at the spot where I imagined her clit would be, and that’s when my man Oscar jumped up and started acting a fool.
I nudged my boy Stanley. “What—” my voice came out squeaking like a bitch and I swallowed hard and tried to catch my breath. “What the fuck is that?”
Like I said, it had gotten real quiet. Nigs had put down those ribs and were breaking their necks turning around to see as much of her as possible. Even the ladies were watching, and I saw a few hard-looking chicks whose eyes were glued so tight on that gushy between Tee’s legs that it was obvious that they were getting their boners on too.
Stanley didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Like everybody else, he couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. They had glazed over and he was biting down hard on his right thumb.
“Damn. I ain’t never seen anybody so beautiful,” I whispered. My entire groin was on boil, and my man Oscar was screaming at me to find some lotion and let him out!
Seconds later Blow stood in front of me looking like the King of New York. He was draped in a five-thousand-dollar suit and flashing his million-dollar smile.
“We look good together, don’t we?” he bragged, with a grin.
On any other night Blow woulda been the top piece of eye candy in the joint, but he damn sure wasn’t the main attraction tonight. Not by a long shot. I mean, I gave my boy props for his skills and all, but tonight it was all about the sexy caramel-colored mami he had on his arm. She was straight luscious. Major breasts and sweet, banging hips. Blow had done real good for himself with this one, I thought with approval. In fact, he had outdone himself and outshined Nap and Tomere, too. Blow was a winner, and if my dick wasn’t so big and hard I woulda stood straight up and shook his hand!
“My man, Ribs. Meet my future queen, son. Her name is Teesa. Ice Tee.”
Her name mighta been Ice Tee, but with all that fat coochie showing between her thighs she looked like a warm hunk of apple pie to me.
I could barely look at her, she was just that fine. I felt unworthy under her gaze. I felt fat, ugly, and oh so damned ashy. I’d lost over fifty pounds by eating right and working out with Sugar, but I still had a ways to go. The only thing I’d ordered tonight was a plate of coleslaw, but I’d cheated a little bit by swiping Stanley’s empty plate and dipping my finger in his leftover sauce. Guilt had that barbecue sauce tasting like ten extra pounds in my mouth right now, and I wanted to shove Stanley’s plate right back in front of him, but instead I wiped my fingers on a napkin then rose halfway out of my chair, pretending like I was gonna stand up.
“Hey there, Tee.” I offered my clean hand and tried to be cool. “I’m Rishawn Rawlings. Good to meet you.”
She touched my fingers and my dick shot up two more inches. Her skin was soft like butter, her flesh felt sweet and warm. The girl had it. There wasn’t one damned flaw to be seen on her. Something so perfect seemed almost unreal. But when she closed those slender fingers of hers around my hand I nearly lost my boner. The girl had a grip on her that was as good as any man’s, and when she clamped that sucker on me I felt something strong in her that told me Blow better not fuck around on this one or he might run up on some trouble.
“Rishawn?” she said and fixed her beautiful cat eyes on me with an air of classy confidence.
“Just call him Pork Ribs,” Blow cut in. “If you wanna know why, just look at his plate. This niggah inhales the meat and crunches through the bones.”
I glanced down at Stanley’s greasy plate that was sitting dead in front of me. A battle had gone on between Stanley and his rib dinner, and the remnants looked like a windswept graveyard with bone fragments as the headstones.
“Ribs, huh?” Tee said. Her stunning face lit up and I couldn’t stop myself from glancing down at her camel toe. “I get down on barbecue, too,” she admit
ted. “And don’t let my athletic looks fool you. It’s all about the cardio kickboxing, baby, because sister can eat, okay?”
I fell in love with her right then and there. Tee had softened the blow and broken the ice, and as we laughed together I gazed at her fineness and once again wished I’d been blessed with the looks and the rock-hard body of a man like Blow.
A couple of seats were opening up a row or two away, and Tee waved good-bye as Blow led her off. I sat there staring at her slim back as she walked away, wondering how all her body weight could be so perfectly proportioned on that phat, beautiful ass of hers.
Stanley laughed beside me.
“What, niggah?” I barked, my eyes still on Tee.
He laughed again. “Nothing, man. Yo, ain’t this about the time you should be making that trip to the bathroom?” More laughter, but that shit wasn’t even funny.
“Nah,” I said, my dick straining and my heart thumping. “I ain’t going no damn where.”
And I wasn’t. Oscar could scream all he wanted. Tee was far too special to take care of with a quick trip to the bathroom. She was beautiful to a fault, classy and elegant. She deserved way more time and attention than that.
“No damn bathrooms,” I told him, brushing his laughter right off my shoulders.
I was gonna take care of Tee, all right. But not inside no dirty stall of a men’s room. Tee was a lady. The kind of chick you had to take your time with and treat right. Chill, Oscar, I told my man, even though I knew he’d be awake and hollering for the next few hours. Tonight I was gonna plan a real nice evening at home for Tee. Fuck the lotion. I’m talking about a long shower, some soft jazz, a little warm scented oil in the center of my quivering palm…yeah. I had something for Miss Ice Tee, for real. And as soon as I was locked behind my bedroom door and wrapped in the privacy of my own fantasies, I was damn sure gonna give it to her.
Maneater Page 17