by Risqué
It was nine o’clock on a Monday night and Yuri was extremely restless. She tossed and turned as Jeff lay back on his side of the bed with four king-sized pillows tucked behind his head, snacking on a bag of buttered popcorn and holding the remote control in one hand. He was watching old reruns of American Idol and falling out laughing at the contestants.
“This shit is ridiculous,” Yuri huffed, looking at the TV while Simon cussed one of the people out by telling him he looked like a bush baby. “Why…” Yuri spoke slowly, “the fuck…we…watching this shit? Simon’s ass is always cussin’ people out; and God forbid if yo’ ass is fat, that’s a wrap; and you would think that Randy could understand and Paula Abdul with her drunk ass…”
Jeff continued to watch TV and toss popcorn in his mouth, never once looking Yuri’s way.
“Oh, you just ignoring me, huh? Fuck it, then. But you better remember that shit.”
Jeff didn’t flinch; instead he reached in the nightstand, pulled out his box of Cuban cigars, lit one and blew smoke toward the TV. “The niggah playin’ you, huh?” Jeff asked calmly. “What, he got another bitch or something?”
Yuri blinked her eyes and turned toward Jeff. “Excuse me?”
“Check this, it’s some real disrespectful shit that you lyin’ in the bed next to me and you going through a jump-off withdrawal.” Jeff spoke matter-of-factly, never turning away from the TV. “You seriously fiending and shit—playin’ ya’self like Superhead.”
“Superhead, oh hell no you didn’t, motherfucker—”
“Oh, this niggah got you flippin’?”
Instantly Yuri jumped up, waved her arms frantically in the air and yelled, “What…the…hell are you talkin’ about?!”
“Goddamn!” Jeff yelled, giving Yuri a one-sided smirk. “What this niggah do? He fuckin’ that bitch too?” He mashed his cigar in the ashtray.
“What?”
“Oh, well, fair exchange, no robberies.” Jeff picked up the remote control and turned the volume up.
Yuri couldn’t believe this. Who did Jeff think he was? Hell, she wasn’t that transparent. Jeff was just trying to read her mind. Truth be told, he didn’t know if she was unfaithful or not. Why couldn’t he take the hassle-free pussy she’d given him and be quiet? Instead he had to be Dr. Phil and give unsolicited advice, as if she would actually admit he was right. “Kiss my ass!” Yuri snatched the pillows from under Jeff’s head and grabbed her cell phone. “Crazy ass!!” she screamed, reaching for her cigarettes and slamming the door behind her.
Yuri paced back and forth in the guest room for over an hour, smoking one cigarette after the other. WBLS was playing The Quiet Storm and she couldn’t stand the abundance of sad shit they kept hitting her with. And worse than that, Yuri was pissed she couldn’t get the echo of Jeff’s speech out of her mind; especially when all she could envision was Troi riding Britt’s dick.
Yuri locked the guest-room door before she finally decided to go through with calling Britt. She sat steady and prayed that Jeff didn’t get paranoid and want to barge in. She pushed thoughts of hanging up out of her mind as she listened to Britt’s phone ring. And finally, as if she were asthmatic and now able to take in fresh air, his phone stopped ringing, and between extremely loud music and background chatter she heard him say, “You done with having a fit?”
Yuri sighed. “Who said I was having a fit?”
“Yeah,” Britt cut her off and starting speaking to someone else in the studio with him. “That shit is whack.”
Judging by the amount of noise in the background Yuri could tell he was preoccupied, but she didn’t care, she needed to hear his voice; and at this point she would take it any way she could get it. “I need to talk to you.” She attempted to go on, doing her best to control her emotions. “Since I started giving you pussy you’ve pushed our friendship to the side.”
When she didn’t get a response, she snapped, “Britt, are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, I got you….” he said distantly. “Hold on, baby. Sham, write this down for Lady Saw’s part….” Suddenly Britt started singing, “Me ride it like a rude boy doing his ting.”
“You know what, Britt, I’m soooo sick of your selfish-ass shit! I need to leave you the fuck alone. Just go be with your ex-girl!”
“Who are you talking about?”
“You know who the fuck I’m talking about.”
“Troi?”
“Funny how, out of all the ex-girlfriends you’ve had, the first one you guess is Troi. So that just confirms it. Fuck you!” And she hung up.
Immediately after Yuri hung up she started psychoanalyzing herself. I think I’ve lost my mind. Two seconds later, her phone rang. “Yo, my man, you know what?” Britt said. “Why don’t you act like an adult and have an affair for once?”
“Britt—”
“Shut up. All you do is fuckin’ whine and complain and cry because you think I’m doing a buncha shit, and, for real, you gettin’ on my last damn nerve. Now, unless you wanna be left alone, you’ll cool out; you stressin’ the fuck outta me. Please. I’m tryna do some things and I need somebody down for me and understanding, not somebody who’s married one day and fucking me the next. So what you need to do is get all that worked out and let me know if you need to catch me later.”
“Mighty funny you saying all of this after Troi comes back.”
“I’m not fucking Troi, I’m fucking you. But if you keep it up—”
“So what you tryna say?”
“I’m not tryna say anything, I’m saying it: You slippin’.”
“I’m slippin’,” she said more to herself than to him.
“Yeah, but you’re cute. You workin’ my fuckin’ nerves, but you fly. And right now that’s what counts.”
“You must want some pussy.” She smiled.
“Come through real quick. I’m at the studio.”
Yuri looked at the time. “I can’t do that. It’s going on twelve o’clock and this crazy ass here will flip his damn lid.”
“So what you saying?”
Taking a deep breath, Yuri said, “I can’t stay long.”
Yuri couldn’t think of exactly what to say to Jeff that would have him believe she had a good reason for leaving the house this time of night, especially when she had to be at work the next morning. And despite her cussing him out and his failed attempt at being cool, Yuri was certain if she stepped out the door all bets would be off and Jeff would do his damnedest to bust her ass. So instead of storming into their bedroom to instigate a weak argument that might or might not make way for her to fly out the door, she retreated to the shower, rubbed down in sour-apple sugar scrub, and packed her bag with a fly outfit she planned to change into. Desperately trying to think of a solid lie, Yuri set the ring-tone alarm on her cell phone, which dictated that she had at least twenty minutes to wing whatever she was going to tell Jeff.
“Jeff—” Yuri pushed open the frosted French doors to their bedroom.
“Don’t come in here with no bullshit,” he said as he calmly flicked the TV off. “Leave that in the other room.”
Yuri stood still for a moment. A million lies ran through her mind. She thought about telling him that the constant arguing had her by the throat, which was why she needed some fresh air. But she quickly changed her mind, thinking he would see directly through that.
Unsure of what exactly she was going to do, Yuri walked over to the bed.
“I’m serious, Yuri,” Jeff warned.
“Shhh, for tonight we’re not gon’ argue,” Yuri said in a seductive tone, dropping the towel wrapped around her body. Instantly Jeff’s dick stood up and she could see the rise in his pajama pants. Slowly Yuri crawled on the bed and began kissing him on his stomach. “We gotta get ourselves together…. learn to make love again.” She stroked his hard dick through his pants. “This a big dick, daddy.”
Unable to speak, Jeff continued to bask in the feeling that Yuri was giving him. He watched her dip her hands in the slit of pa
nts, take out his dick and kiss it.
“Yuri…” Jeff moaned; he couldn’t remember the last time she’d kissed his dick.
She pulled his pajama pants off, slid between his legs and began licking the ridges of his balls. She could feel his hard veins rubbing against her tongue as she showered him with her mouth. Her tongue strokes alternated from head to base and back again. Knowing that Jeff loved it when she spat on his dick, Yuri spat all she could and then began sucking him as if she had a river between her cheeks.
“Damn, baby.” Jeff ran his fingers through her hair. “Why can’t it always be like this?” As he felt his nut ease toward the tip, his words slurred, “Please, baby, let’s keep it like this….”
Yuri knew that Jeff was reaching his climax, but she didn’t want his nut rushing into her mouth, especially since she couldn’t wait to kiss Britt. She’d much rather have Jeff splash off on her breasts. As soon as he started telling her how much he loved her, her cell phone alarm went off. Bingo, she thought. Perfect timing. “Shit,” she said.
“Don’t get that,” Jeff insisted, pushing his shaft deeper into her mouth.
“Honey”—she lifted her head up—“it could be an emergency.”
“If it is, they’ll call the house phone.”
“Let me answer it and see.” Yuri eased off the bed and grabbed her cell phone. Before flipping it open she inadvertently cut off the alarm, then proceeded to act as if she was holding a conversation. “Hello…” She paused. “Oh my God, Nae-Nae, what’s wrong?!” Another pause. “Oh no, please don’t do anything until I get there….” Pause. “Nae-Nae, what did you say? He’s bleeding? No, you’re bleeding?” Pause. “He did kung fu?! On you? No, don’t call the police. Just calm down. I’m on my way!”
Yuri looked at Jeff, his hard dick standing straight up in the air. “Jeff—Nae-Nae and Raphael…”
“Fighting?”
“Yes.” She did her best to suppress her smile. “And Raphael’s a black belt, so you know he got Nae-Nae shook….”
“I thought Nae-Nae was a homo thug.”
“Don’t be funny.” She smiled.
“Yuri, why must you be Fag-Hag to the Rescue?” He pointed to his dick. “The nut is right at the tip, baby.”
“When I come back.” She kissed him on the lips. “We’ll finish, I promise. I won’t be long.”
Jeff watched Yuri’s naked ass switch as she pulled out a gray sweat suit and sneakers from their walk-in closet. Continuing to suppress her smile and making sure Jeff was unable to see, Yuri went in the closet’s built-in drawer and slipped out a lace bra and edible thong. The thong was cherry-flavored the way Britt liked them. “I’m really getting tired of Nae-Nae’s mess,” she said as she hurried in the master bath to brush her teeth and throw the sweat suit on. She tucked the edible panties in her bra.
When Yuri stepped out of the bathroom she was fully dressed. “Don’t get hurt breaking up a kung-fu battle.” Jeff laughed.
“Ha-ha-ha, Jeff.” Yuri smiled, stepping out of the room. Before she left the house, Yuri ran in the guest room and grabbed the bag she’d packed.
When she entered the studio it was quite dark, and the only light came from the sophisticated engineering board with its thousand electric-blue knobs and buttons. Britt held a pair of headphones to his ears. His dreads swayed back and forth as he nodded his head. Yuri’s heart skipped a thousand beats as she stared at the side of his face. She hated that she fell in love with him every time she saw him.
Yuri walked up behind him and bent down over his head. “So where ya crew at?”
Britt jumped. “Damn, girl, you scared me.”
“You knew I was coming.” She kissed him on the forehead.
“Yeah, but you usually give me a warning.”
Yuri sat down on the small empty counter next to him. She looked around. “So where’s everybody?”
“Gone. I told them I had something to do and would catch ’em later.”
“Really? You had something to do?”
“Yeah…You look good, ma’.” Before Yuri came into the studio she’d changed her clothes in the car. Now she wore a tight-fitting denim skirt, tailor-fitted suede shirt, blue lace camisole, and three-inch Marc Jacobs snakeskin boots. “I know I don’t tell you that often, but I miss you.” He stroked her cheek. Britt rose from his chair and stood between her legs.
“You miss me or you miss fucking me?”
“You want the truth?” He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth.
“Of course.”
“Both. I be trippin’ off you sometime and shit.” He began to caress her breast. “Your smile.” He kissed her. “Your laugh.” He took off her blue lace cami. “Your touch.” He lifted it above her head. “But I need you to stop flippin’.” He pulled the straps of her bra down. “Stop being so emotional and let us just flow.”
She opened her legs as she felt his hands ease to her pussy. “How long we ’spose to just flow?”
Britt moved the seat of her thong over and fingered her clit. “You looking for the magical answer that I can’t give you…. Are these edible?”
“Yes.” Yuri thought about pressing forward with more questions, but what good would it do? There was nothing they could do with their relationship at this moment other than ride it out, and either she was with it or she wasn’t. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, biting a piece of her panties that covered her clit, “too much.”
Yuri closed her eyes as her legs started to tremble and Britt’s tongue smeared her clit with cherry-flavored juices. “Lay a track for me,” he said as he rose from his knees.
“Later, Britt…” she moaned, unbuckling his pants.
“Naw.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, feeling her palm his dick. “I wanna record you cummin’. But you gotta cum like you did that first night we fucked. Long, strong and in fuckin’ tune.” He laughed a little.
“You are so nasty.” She lifted his shirt and kissed both of his nipples.
Britt briefly turned around and pressed the RECORD button on the engineering board. “Don’t worry.” He faced her again. “I’ll edit and mix it later.”
“What you want me to sing?” she spoke into his ear.
“Nothing,” he whispered, “I just want you to cum…. I’ll sing…. It’s ’spose to be a secret,” he began, “you and me/but if I keep you cummin’ like this,”—Britt took his fingers, and circled her clit—“one day you gon’ forget the secret/and the next thing we know/ya man gon’ wanna know, how long we been doin’ him like this…”
“But I wanna keep cummin’….” Yuri sensually ad-libbed in a whispery Janet Jackson tone. “So we can’t let him know…’cause then he gon’ ruin what we worked so hard for….”
Britt got down on his knees and went to eating Yuri’s thong completely off.
Slowly, Yuri’s nut eased its way out and glazed Britt’s lips, and still she kept her pitch, never once coming out of tune, yet cumming with all that she had, releasing herself like never before as they laid the track.
Letting the beat pump solo for a while, Britt roughly hiked Yuri’s skirt up as far as it would go. Pushing her against the wall, he pounded his dick into her pulsating middle and started biting her neck.
Although Britt’s biting was painful, Yuri enjoyed it. It was like being high, where pain and pleasure battled over the winning position. Yuri wrapped her legs around Britt’s waist as he worked his dick in and out of her creamy canal. The rhythm of his dick singing to her pussy drove Yuri crazy, causing her to bury her fingernails into Britt’s shoulders and scratch down his back.
“You think I’m playin’ you?” Britt asked, doing his best not to let the stinging of her scratches bother him. “Answer me.”
“Yes….” she panted, as he continued to bite her on the side of the neck. “Sometimes I do.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know.” Yuri started to cum again.
“Don’
t lie.”
“I’m not.” She shivered.
“I would never play you….”
“Sure?” Her chest heaved.
“I got you, baby….” Britt said as his nut exploded into her pussy with some of its drippings sliding between her thighs. “For real, I do….”
After sexing each other around the studio, making promises that neither one of them could keep, and recording their second duet together, Yuri headed home. It was three in the morning and she did her best to control the clapping of her heels as she walked across the bamboo floor. Slowly she pushed the French doors to the bedroom open, and prayed they didn’t creak. She peeked into the dark room and tiptoed toward her side of the bed.
As she took one arm out of her blouse the room light flicked on. “Naah, keep that shit on.” Jeff lit up his cigar as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Let me see this.” He tugged at the hem of Yuri’s skirt. “You look good.” He twisted his mouth and released smoke from the side of his lips.
Yuri stood stunned, pissed at herself that she’d forgotten to put her sweats back on. She blinked several times and looked at Jeff. What the hell was he doing sitting on the edge of the bed and not in the bed sleeping? Why was he in her face preparing to argue about some ole bullshit and not asleep? Now, how could she even argue with him when it was obvious that whatever she said would be bullshit. So instead of snapping she sighed. “What are you talkin’ about, Jeff?” Yuri turned her back to him. She looked at the ceiling and wondered how could she forget.
“At first”—Jeff walked around the bed and looked at Yuri—“I was like, naah, somebody need to whip Nae-Nae’s ass, so fuck it. Yuri can handle that shit. But then, with you owing to suck my dick, I wanted to be sure you came back in one piece.”
Yuri didn’t say a word; instead she attempted to move out of Jeff’s way, but he followed her. She did her best not to let the guilt show on her face.
“It’s cool, you don’t have to say nothing. But check this, Nae-Nae lives on Nostrand in Brooklyn. Why you head to midtown?”