The Sweetest Taboo

by Risqué

  “Do you have any regrets?”

  “No,” Yuri spewed too quickly for even her to believe it. “I just hope I’m not being a new fool for old love.”

  Drae pulled in front of the building. Yuri’s eyes scanned the block for Britt’s car, but there was no sign of it. “All right girl.” Yuri leaned over and kissed Drae on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  The loft was pitch-black when she walked in. She didn’t even bother to flick the lights on because she knew there was no surprise waiting, just the same ole shit.

  As tears invaded her eyes, Yuri refused to cry. She went in the bathroom, showered, changed into one of Britt’s oversized tees and went to sleep.

  Hours later she felt Britt’s warm breath on her ear. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She awoke from sleep and looked into his face. There were streams of light coming in from the row of windows that lined the adjacent wall. His hands roamed all over her body as he continued to apologize. He squeezed her breast and began sucking her nipples through the tee shirt she wore.

  “How could you forget me?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I waited for you.”

  “I know, baby.” He lifted her shirt and begin kissing down her belly to the heaven between her thighs. Licking her clit he said, “I got so caught up.”

  “Do you know how embarrassed I was?”

  “I’m sorry.” He licked her clit again.

  “I think I’ma go, Britt, and get my own spot. Maybe us living together is too much. I really don’t want you to break my heart.”

  “You wanna leave me?” He began to aggressively suck her pussy, opening it up and running his tongue up and down the sides of her vulva. “Huh? Tell me,” he spoke in between pulling her clit through his teeth. “What I’m ’spose to do when you go?”

  “But, baby…” she moaned. “I just…thought…maybe…”

  “You don’t want no babies with me?” He pressed his tongue against her clit as he spoke. “A little girl maybe…Bree…Sanaa…Lake…or a little boy? You gon’ bounce even before we have a family…This ya home ma’….” He took his tongue off her clit and stared at it. “Damn, I love this pussy.” He stuck two fingers inside her, slid out her juice and sucked it off. “I would share, baby. But since you wanna leave me, I need to savor it.” He stuck his fingers inside her again, pulled out more juice and sucked it off. “I’ma miss you…I don’t know why you gotta go.” He began kissing her clit and talking to it. “She wanna leave daddy. So daddy can’t kiss you no more. You so nice and pretty and fat.” He sucked it. “Don’t leave daddy. Daddy’s sorry.”

  Tears rolled down Yuri’s cheeks as her legs began to shake. Britt always knew what to do to get her to cum. But the tears weren’t about her cumming as much as they were about her not wanting to be thrown off-kilter. Already she was stepping outside of herself and accepting shit she would’ve cussed Jeff out for.

  Feeling her cum working its way down her spine and through her belly, she ran her hands through Britt’s dreads. “I love you so much….” she said as he licked her dripping candy. “Please don’t break my heart.”

  He rose from between her legs and lay on top of her, “I’m not gon’ hurt you baby.” He slid his dick in.

  Yuri pushed back against Britt’s stroke with her hips. If only she could feel like this wasn’t bound to end. She hated the sinking feeling that always settled into her stomach during moments like this.

  “Stop thinking.” Britt looked into her eyes. “Too much thought is not good.”

  Yuri looked at him, her eyes still cloudy. She wondered where he’d been. Had he been with Troi and if so did he stroke her like this? Was he saying some of the same things to her or was he saying more?

  “I don’t want nobody but you,” he whispered as if he were reading her mind. “I put that on my life, it ain’t nobody for me but you.”

  Drae

  The surround sound pumped the remix to Silk’s “Freak Me” as Naz walked toward the door and the base vibrations welcomed him into the dimly lit presidential suite. He was at the Waldorf-Astoria to meet Drae.

  The sensual darkness of the suite instantly made his dick hard. He didn’t know where Drae was, all he knew was she was in here somewhere and he was to follow the long trail of white rose petals in between two rows of tea-light candles to find her. Once he reached the dining room he knew he’d reached his destination, as paradise came alive. White candles of different shapes and sizes flickered around the room, and there were white rose petals strewn about on the floor, the dining-room table and the fireplace mantel.

  And then there was Drae, who topped it all off. She was standing on the open balcony, her back leaning against the black metal railing, as she sucked on a cherry-red Blow Pop, licking it seductively and staring Naz right in his eyes. The lights from the New York City skyline sparkled against her back and created yellow hues that glittered into the room.

  She rocked a Yankees baseball cap with a white Purple Label button-up; the top three buttons were left open, giving subtle hints of her full cleavage. On the shirtsleeves were platinum cuff links, and around the collar was an extremely loose raw silk necktie, hanging slightly to the side.

  Drae stood with one leg in front of the other. Her thick toned thighs glistened like honey and her three-inch metallic silver stilettos made her French-manicured feet look delicious.

  The music continued to pump as Silk seemed to give Naz instructions when they sang, “Let me lick you up and down.” He lifted his white tee over his head, revealing his beautiful chest, and started walking toward her.

  Drae winked her eye as she sucked the lollipop and signaled for him to stop. She needed to digest how fine God had actually made him. “Go take your place at the head of the table, baby.”

  Naz smiled as he speechlessly complied. He stood at the table, the candles that outlined it burning before him. He folded his defined arms across his hard pecs, and admired Drae’s beauty…. it was so fierce that it was almost ridiculous. He knew if he concentrated on her too long he would nut just by staring, so he pulled a blunt from his back pocket, lit it and watched her do her thang.

  Silk’s “Freak Me” blended into Jodeci’s “Feenin’” as Drae began to dance. She started by tipping the cap off her head by the bill, shaking out her shoulder-length hair, walking over and placing the cap on his head. The bent bill fit like a half moon over his eyes.

  As she moved her body like a snake dancing to an Indian flute, Naz pulled out a stack of bills, tossed some in the middle of the table and held the rest in the palm of his right hand, as the smoke rising from his blunt filled the air. “If you want it…come get it.”

  Drae stood at the foot of the table, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her beautiful breasts underneath, which sat upon her chest like full moons, complemented by hard chocolate nipples. She shifted the necktie, letting it hang around her neck, and laid it between her breasts.

  Naz tossed more money, some of it floating in the air like mini parachutes.

  By the time Drae had danced her way down to nothing, Naz had tossed well over two thousand dollars into the center of the table, and when his palm was empty Drae crawled across the table, onto the money, and made her way toward him. Once she was before Naz, she unzipped his pants and began rubbing his dick. She kissed him along his pubic bone, licking around his dick before easing it into her mouth. And just when she thought his dick couldn’t get any bigger she felt it swelling in her mouth. Sucking his dick was better than she ever could’ve imagined. The sides rubbed against her cherry-flavored tongue and the tip hit against the back of her welcoming throat.

  As she sucked his dick with the intensity of a perfectionist, all Naz could do was run his hands through the back of her hair, grip it at the root and nut down her throat.

  Drae swallowed as Naz regained his composure. He mashed the remains of his blunt in the ashtray and turned Drae over, doggy style. As she rolled through the money
some of it stuck to her back.

  Naz bit her all over her ass, from one cheek to the next, tossing her salad in between. He ducked his head underneath her and sucked her pussy until she screamed. Afterward he took his fingers and played in her juice before sliding his dick in.

  Almost immediately he felt his nut rush back to the tip. He hated it because he wanted desperately to savor the moment of bathing in her juices. “I want us to cum together.” He bit her on the neck and then he started banging her ass with his dick as if he were trying to create new drumbeats. His scrotum slapped against her skin, as though it offered pleasurable punishment. Drae threw her ass onto his shaft like never before and Naz pumped his dick in and out, as if they were running a race and passing the torch back and forth to each other. The pounding of his dick in and out of her pussy lips had overtaken the surround sound and was better than music could ever be to his ears.

  “I’m cummin’,” Drae whined, her breathing extremely heavy.

  “Damn, baby…” Naz continued to pump as Drae moaned. “This my pussy and don’t ever forget that shit.” He was spilling from his dick as he pulled it out and nutted all over her ass. Once he was finished he rubbed it into both of her cheeks, while taking his fingers and placing some inside her pussy.

  He slapped her on the ass before literally picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. “Now, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about.”

  “Nasir,” Drae laughed, “just admit you pussy-whipped and I’ll give you your money back.”

  “You fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know what you think this is, but I’ll never be caught dead admitting no shit like that.” He mushed her on the forehead. “Punk ass tryna play me.” He lay to the side of her, as she placed her head on his chest. He reached for the blunt on the nightstand and lit it.

  “You see yourself loving me, don’t you?”

  “You on your shit, or what?” Naz took a pull.

  “Yeah.” She took the blunt from between his fingers, took a toke and blew out the smoke. “I am kinda feeling myself.”

  “Well it’s not like the world hasn’t seen that before.” He laughed.

  “Yeah, a’ight.” Drae handed Naz the blunt and began kissing down the center of his chest. “Pussies is always hatin’!”

  Naz laughed. “Yo, that the same thing ole boy on the TV just said.” As Drae slid down his body to suck his dick, Naz pointed to the TV. “That’s one flamin’-ass niggah.”

  “Pussies is always hatin’ on Nae-Nae” floated from the TV.

  “Damn, you sound like Nae-Nae,” she said, dipping her head beneath the covers and getting comfortable between Naz’s legs.

  “I ain’t say that gay-ass shit.” He paused. “Wait a minute, ain’t that your boy?”

  “Who?” Drae lifted the covers off her head and looked at the TV. Instantly her mouth flew open. “Nae-Nae?!”

  As she rolled off Naz and reached for her cell phone, it rang. It was Yuri. “This niggah.” They started talking over each other, “Wait, wait,” Drae said. “Are you watching Maury?”

  “I’m…” Yuri spoke slowly, “going…to stab that gay-ass motherfucker! And his mother begged him to stop showing his ass and look at this shit.”

  The Maury Povich studio was rocking. Nae-Nae, Raphael and Freeda were onstage.

  “Anybody,” Freeda screamed, “can see that niggah ain’t gay! He just doing this to make me jealous.”

  “Fishes is hatin’, Maury!” Raphael screamed. “Fishes is straight hatin’!”

  “He tryna say you stink, Freeda,” Squeak yelled from the audience.

  “Oh hell to nawl,” Freeda stood up. “I gets my doosh on!”

  “Sizzle, sizzle, niggah,” Squeak yelled. “Guess she read yo’ flamin’ ass.”

  “Somebody step on him, please!” Raphael looked around. “Lookin’ like a fake-ass action hero. Why don’t you take that damn karate suit off and lose yo’ lil’ bitty self?”

  “Lil’ bitty.” It was obvious that threw Squeak for a loop.

  “Don’t even worry ’bout that, Squeak, he don’t know ’bout you. He…do not…know…’bout you,” Freeda consoled. “’Cause we all know you will rock…this too-tall faggot…to sleep. ’Cause we all know that Nae-Nae ain’t gay. Er’body can see he a thug!”

  “He got on a patent-leather catsuit and some earrings,” Raphael snapped. “This niggah is gayer than a fuckin’ passion-fruit Pop Tart. He so damn gay that when he’s dead, he gon’ have to be buried ass up in order for anybody to know him.”

  “He just told you to kiss his ass, Freeda,” Squeak yelled. “That mofo just told you to kiss his big black sugar-fartin’ ass! They playin’ the hell outta you, Freeda.”

  “Do you have anything to say?” Maury asked Nae-Nae.

  “My feelings are just so hurt,” Nae-Nae’s voice trembled. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “These is yo’ kids, Nae-Nae,” Freeda insisted.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” Nae-Nae responded. “It’s obvious that a restraining order wasn’t good enough.”

  “Restraining order? I don’t give a damn about no restraining order!”

  “Wait a minute,” Maury intervened. “Are you saying that these are not your children?”

  “Maury,” Nae-Nae spoke somberly, “all I’m saying is that people are known for taking advantage of me.”

  Before Nae-Nae could answer, Freeda interrupted, “It’s okay, Nae-Nae.” She pointed to the newborn twins’ picture up on the split screen. “I can do bad all by myself. I don’t need you to help me take care of my babies. I make more than enough to see ’bout Petrone-Alizé-Malik-Kaareem-DiShawn Jenkins, the Second, that’s my son. And you sho’ ain’t got to worry ’bout my daughter Caviar.”

  “Tell ’em, Freeda!” Squeak yelled from the audience. “Tell ’em!”

  “Looka here, Funky White and the too-short dwarf, we ’bout to prove y’all wrong,” Raphael insisted.

  Maury held a manila envelope in his hand, with paternity test results inside. “So are you sticking by your man?” he asked Raphael.

  “I sho’ am.”

  Maury opened the envelope, “When it comes to Petrone-Alizé-Kaareem-DiShawn Jenkins…”

  “The Second,” Freeda added. “Don’t forget ‘the Second,’ I added that ’cause it sound real fancy.”

  “Tell ’em, Freeda,” Squeak yelled. “That shit there is distinguished.”

  “The Second,” Maury continued. “And Caviar. Nae-Nae you are…” He stalled. “the father.”

  Immediately Raphael fell to the floor and passed out. Squeak started running around the studio, jumping up into the camera. “Told you! Told you!”

  “All I want,” Freeda cried, “is for him to take care of Petrone-Alizé-Malik-Kaareem-DiShawn Jenkins, the Second and Caviar.”

  “Awwwlllll!!!!!” Raphael screamed, now revived and lying on the floor, appearing to be having a series of convulsions. “Say it ain’t so, Nae-Nae. Please say it ain’t so.”

  “I swear on the Rainbow God, these pussies”—he pointed to Freeda and Squeak—“gang-raped me!”

  “Told you he wasn’t gay, Maury,” Freeda spat. “Yup, told you!”

  “I just had a weak moment,” Nae-Nae pleaded.

  “Where them Charlie Angel wannabe bitches at now?” Squeak screamed, jumping up on the stage and standing directly in front of the camera. “Attention Eagle Ass, Squeak is comin’ for your throat, be’yatch.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Drae said, still holding her cell phone to her ear. “I am utterly embarrassed.”

  “Britt over here laughing,” Yuri said, “but I see I’ma have to cut this lil’ niggah up.”

  Yuri

  “Why are you buggin’?” Britt asked Yuri as he slipped on black, tailored Gucci dress pants, a crisp white button-up, platinum cuff links and onyx square-toe crocs. His matching suit jacket lay on the bathroom vanity.

  Sony Music, the company Britt was signed with, was having a CD-release pa
rty for one of their new artists and was also celebrating Britt’s new reggae and soca imprint.

  “Oh now I’m buggin’?” Yuri sucked her teeth. “I’ve seen the same number on the caller ID for the last week, seven days in a row, at some real funny fuckin’ hours.” She stood at the vanity, puckered her lips and applied MAC lipstick and liner. “Don’t start no shit, Britt.” She stood up straight, dabbed Angel perfume in her cleavage, and ran her hands along the sides of her cream Versace tube-top dress, which clung to every one of her voluptuous curves like a magnet. “Understood?”

  Instead of responding, Britt tapped her on the ass.

  “I take it it’s understood.” Yuri slipped her yellow diamond studs in each ear, then sat down on the closed toilet lid, held her foot up and handed Britt the rhinestone Manolos he’d bought her. He placed her feet respectively on each pant leg, slipped her shoes on and buckled them around the ankles.

  “Now,” she said, “we’re ready to go.”

  Britt checked his dreads, which were styled with a series of single cornrows in the front and hanging loose in the back. “What was up with those grandma drawls you had hanging up there yesterday?” He playfully mushed her on the side of her head. “I already told you we don’t wear drawls around here.”

  “You so retarded,” she laughed. “For your information, I was doing laundry. Didn’t you notice your clothes had been washed…and the loft had been cleaned?”

  “Yeah, I noticed you were performing your wifely duties.”

  “Yeah, niggah, I better be the wife and you better tell that ho who keeps calling your phone the same thing before I slide her ass.”

  “There you go tryna slide somebody. Don’t be tryna take the conversation off them big-ass drawls. Who you sleeping next to in them?”

  “Yo’ ass. I wear them when I’m on my period and it’s due to come any day—”

  “It ain’t come yet?” he cut her off. “According to my calculations it shoulda been here Tuesday…of last week.”

  “You keeping up with my cycle?”