The Sweetest Taboo

by Risqué

  “Ride this dick like you own it.”

  “I don’t own it?” She stroked.

  He cupped her ass. “Naw, I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Naw, you ain’t done shit to make me think you deserve it.”

  Drae began riding his dick and throwing her hips with every inch she had to offer. She could feel her clit slapping against the front of his dick, climbing up and down his rigid wall as her G-spot rained sticky pallid cum all over his rock-solid member. Instead of screaming his name, she said, “I see you still don’t know whose dick this is.”

  He opened his eyes and gave her a half grin.

  Drae eased off his dick, turned around, stood over his body, pressed on all fours and slowly eased back down on his dick, leaving her creamy cum mark all over it. It was feeling so good, all Naz could do was close his eyes. “Uh-uh, open your eyes and watch this pussy work this dick,” Drae insisted.

  Naz placed his hands around the base of his dick and every time Drae’s pussy slid down on it, he slipped two fingers inside her. “Goddamn, this shit is bananas. Oh…my…God…” His toes began to curl.

  “You better not nut up in this pussy until you tell me who it belong to.”

  He ran his hands all over her ass. “Sunshine…” he moaned. “Oh, goddamn, work it, baby.” She popped her inner walls. “I see why you a star,” he carried on.

  “Whose dick is this?” She held her ass in the air.

  “It’s yours.” She slid back down.

  “Whose dick is this?” She held it the air again, teasing him.

  “Oh my God, baby, it’s yours!” he screamed. “Sunshine, it’s yours.” His nut raced to the tip as she sat on his dick and took him on a trip he would never forget.

  After Naz came, he fell out exhausted on the floor. Drae lay to the side of him, propped up on one arm and running her index finger up and down the center of his chest. “Naz?”

  “What ma’?” He wiped the sweat off her nose.

  “I have to ask you this.”

  “Anything.”

  “What did you mean when you said you see why I’ma star?”

  “’Cause, Sunshine, that’s what you are.” Naz looked at Drae, confused. “Right?”

  “It depends on what kinda star you’re talking about. And why do you and the rest of America,” she said, agitated, “keep calling me Sunshine?”

  Naz turned on his side, facing Drae. “Drae…for real, it’s me. You don’t have to front for me, it’s cool. I know what you do for a living. That’s how I met you.”

  “Know what I do for a living?” she questioned. “I’m a high-school guidance counselor. At least I was until recently.”

  Naz tried not to laugh in her face, but it started to ease out the side of his mouth. He began to laugh so hard that he fell onto his back and bellowed out.

  Drae squinted her eyes at him and curled her upper lip. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” She sat up. “Did I just crack a fuckin’ joke?”

  “Naw,” he said, laughter still seething through his teeth. “Fall back. It’s good ma’. I’m saying though, if you wanna role play, just let me know. You can be teacher and I’ll be the naughty student. Just don’t spank me on my ass, ’cause I ain’t beat for all that.”

  “You know what, niggah,” she said, tempted to mush him in the head, “fuck you. Here I am, laying up with you, and you laughin’ at me? Oh, you done pissed me off.”

  “Ma’,” he said as he grabbed her forearm, “calm down. What’s the attitude about? We both know you do movies.”

  “Movies? Pornos?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you serious? All I’ve ever done were the auditions, and I hate I did that shit.”

  Naz looked intently at Drae, as if trying to figure something out. “Drae, when we got down”—he pointed from his chest to hers and back again—“that wasn’t no audition…that was a movie.”

  “What?” she said in complete disbelief. “Niggah, please. Now, if you wanna role play, that’s all you gotta say.”

  “Are you serious?” His eyes revealed a deep level of confusion. “Did I miss something?”

  “You missed a whole lotta shit if you think I been out here doing movies!” Drae wasn’t sure why, but her heart started racing and she started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. “You scaring the hell outta me, Nasir, and I don’t think this shit is funny.”

  “Drae, baby.” He held both her hands between his. “You been doing pornos.”

  “What…?” Tears filled her eyes. “Stop saying that. It’s not true.”

  “Baby.” He wiped her tears with the back of his index finger. “I wish I was fuckin’ lying, but you are a porn star.”

  “No, I don’t believe this.”

  Naz rose from the floor, his tight ass swaying in the wind as he wrapped a towel around himself, then left the room and came back with a DVD. “Look at the jacket.” He tossed it to her.

  Drae looked down and began to read, “Ain’t No Sunshine ’Til She Cums, from the chronicles of Hassan Shaw…from the chronicles of Hassan Shaw…” Drae flipped the DVD over and she saw a picture of Naz’s dick entering the back door of her pussy. She tossed the DVD across the bed, as if someone had just handed her poison. “No, this is not so. This is not happening to me. There were no cameras in my house.”

  “Sweetie—” he wiped the stream of silent tears pouring from her eyes—“there are cameras all over your house.”

  “What?” She was still in disbelief.

  “In the recessed lighting. All over your house are recessed lights and inside all of them are cameras.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Everyone in the industry knows that. Hassan has the fliest studio around.”

  “Studio?” she cried. “That’s my house.”

  “No, baby, that’s a stage.”

  Drae sat still for a moment that felt like forever. Suddenly every audition that she’d ever done ran through her mind. She thought about the times the actors seemed so scripted, almost remote controlled when they spoke, how she chalked it up to their being nervous and inexperienced. And then it was Lee-Lee Lickme, Naz and the white girl eating her pussy. She remembered Freeda, who’d called her Sunshine. Sunshine, a ho with da bomb pussy from Harlem Nights. Sunshine, a bitch selling pussy. “Nasir, who is Sunshine?”

  “You. That’s your porn name.”

  Drae’s entire body ached. “I don’t believe it! You’re lying.” She got up and started getting dressed. “You’re fuckin’ lying. Hassan is a lotta things, but he would never do this.”

  “Drae—”

  “Fuck you!” She picked up her purse and headed toward the door.

  Naz blocked her path. “You can’t run from this.” He grabbed Drae and pulled her close.

  Her voice trembled as she tried to speak. “Get off me. This some bullshit and I’m not dealing with it! I’m done with you, do you understand? We’re over!” She pushed him in the center of his chest. “Move, dammit!”

  “This is not about me.”

  “So,” she said, the snot running from her nose, and trying to state with confidence, “it was only one?”

  “My baby.” He ran his hands through her hair. “You need to come with me.”

  Naz threw on a pair of jeans, a white tee and a pair of Jordans. Drae was quiet as they drove down the West Side Highway. Once they were in the Village he was able to find a parking spot not too far from where the store was. Drae noticed that the store’s windows were all painted black and the entrance was concealed by a steel door. When they walked in, the young woman behind the counter looked shocked. Her eyes were beaming as she stared at Naz and Drae.

  “Why is she looking at me like that?” Drae whispered to Naz, her tears still stinging the edges of her eyes. For the first time since she did the initial audition, she felt dirty. She felt as if she were in a brothel selling a fine piece of ass. “I think I’m ready to go.”


  “No, I need you to see this.” He led her to a back wall where there was a collection of Hassan’s movies, from his early works to all of the movies he’d ever done with Drae. There were DVDs of her taking a shower, playing with herself, fucking him with a loaded dildo and shooting off on his ass, Lee-Lee Lickme sucking her pussy, and one marked bestseller—the one she did with Naz.

  As Drae felt herself about to faint, she heard someone yelling. “Sunshine! Sunshine! Oh my God!” a young woman with a sleeve of tattoos panted. “I can’t believe this. I’m like your biggest fan. You’re the reason I tried other chicks. The way Lee-Lee licked your pussy, I couldn’t resist. You don’t,” the girl said with a blush, “do private parties, do you?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, I noticed you never give, you only receive; and it’s cool, I love the taste of pussy.”

  As Drae thought this was the part where she needed to smack the girl, someone else approached her. “I heard that you lived in New York. Someone said you did something at a school. But I didn’t believe it!” the young man screamed. “I swear to you, the way you fucked him with a loaded dildo made me wish I could turn my chick out like that. Damn, if I get a tattoo needle, will you tattoo my dick? All I want is Sunshine on it.”

  Drae knew it was time to leave, she’d gotten the point and needed to go home so she could break down in peace. But before she could walk away a small crowd surrounded her. “I am such a big fan!” Someone shouted.

  “You got the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen!”

  “Can I kiss your pussy?!”

  “You still fuck him with a dildo?”

  “I promise, you won’t have to eat me back, I just wanna taste your cum!”

  “How come you never show at the award shows?”

  “Let me call my cousin and tell him you’re down here. He always jerks off to you.”

  And on it went.

  Drae felt like her head was spinning and her body was giving way. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong. All she could see were lines waving in front of her eyes, and she could no longer breathe. She needed to leave, she just didn’t know where she would go, but she had to get outta here. Drae took a deep breath and bolted out of the store. Naz hurried behind her, but by the time he reached the door, he couldn’t see her anymore.

  Yuri

  Yuri stuffed the positive pregnancy test to the bottom of the garbage and then she poured sour milk on it. It was Britt’s thirty-second birthday, and she didn’t want to ruin it. Besides, she wasn’t so sure what she wanted to do. The relationship with him was a mess. He made a better side niggah or best friend than a main man. All the sweetness had turned sour and his perfect representative had long since left the building. Now she was stuck nursing a broken heart while not being able to accept that her season with Britt had ended.

  For the past month he would come home for a few hours to shower and change and then head back out. Lately, the only time she ever saw him was when he was between her legs, either kissing her pussy or nuttin’ up in it.

  Yuri set the table with shrimp scampi, chilled sparkling cider and a birthday cake. Then she propped up the pillows behind her back and lay on the couch dressed in a leather bra, matching thong and stilettos.

  She prayed practically every five minutes that he would hold true to his word and come home early tonight, especially since he was already an hour late.

  In the midst of waiting Yuri drifted to sleep and by the time she awoke the sun was creeping into the sky. She couldn’t believe it, somehow this had to be a nightmare. She looked at the clock for confirmation that it was a new day and it read seven A.M. Still not convinced this was real, she looked at the table she’d set, only to see the cake was uncut, her sparkling cider was hot and her shrimp scampi was cold. She sat up on the couch, her stomach feeling like a volcano had erupted, and she began to cry like a distressed baby. Her life was in shambles. And here she sat, all by herself, with nobody to talk to except God, and even He’d fallen asleep.

  As Yuri rose from the couch to shower and change (after all, it was a workday) the doorbell rang.

  “Britt, you forgot your keys again?” A sigh of relief came over her as she wrapped a robe around herself. She didn’t want to go off right away for fear of his becoming pissed and storming back out. “One day I’m not gon’ be here,” she said as she opened the door, “and then what you gon’ do?”

  “I’ll move in.” Troi smiled.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Yuri spat. She never expected to see Troi standing here, not in a million years.

  “Excuse you, is that how they say good morning in the school of rudeness? Anyway, I thought Britt woulda been here.” She handed Yuri his wallet. “Tell him he left this at my house last night and I found it after he left this morning.”

  “What?” Yuri stood in shock; suddenly she felt like a zombie.

  “What’s the problem?” Troi placed her hands on her hips. “How about this, because I don’t have all morning, you need to understand that I’m not leaving Britt alone. And I’m not stopping at him being back in my bed, I want him back in my life as my man. As my husband. He loves me and you know it. So don’t envision me leaving anytime soon, ’cause I’ma be the worst fuckin’ bitch you’ve ever seen. Do us all a favor: Save yourself some heartache and disappear.”

  There wasn’t much to say outside of a “bitch” here and a “ho” there; especially since, at the end of the day, it all added up to be the same. Britt loved Troi and he would never stop loving her. Yuri just hated that she built so many damn dreams on the two of them being in love. She treasured the day he would one day call her his woman or his wife. But now here she stood face-to-face with her worst nightmare. “Kiss…” Yuri spoke slowly, “my ass!” And she slammed the door in Troi’s face.

  Yuri held on to the knob until the cold metal felt clammy. She was too hurt to cry and too emotionless to scream. Here she’d been waiting for him all night and he was out fucking Troi. The same bitch that he swore he had nothing with.

  Yuri went in the bathroom, showered and changed. By the time she grabbed her purse and hospital overcoat it was a quarter after eight and she was fifteen minutes late for work.

  Once she got to work, she was silent most of the day. She worked in the geriatrics unit and usually the old people, who reminded her of her grandparents, would make her smile, but today she was depressed.

  “Smile, chile,” one of her patients said. “I’m the one death’s looking for.”

  By the time her day ended she wanted to crawl under a rock. She opened the door to Britt’s loft and there he was, lying in the bed. “Wassup?”

  “Where’s your wallet, Britt?” Yuri tried not to sound anxious.

  “Why, you need some money?” He picked his pants up off the floor and searched his back pockets. “Damn.” He sucked his teeth. “I must’ve left it.”

  “Left it where?”

  “I left the shit…in the car—at the studio—shit, what the hell are you asking me all these questions for?”

  “That’s all I needed to know.” Yuri went in the closet, pulled out her suitcases and started packing them.

  “Where you going?” He sat up.

  “Did you forget that I waited for your birthday yesterday?” She turned to him, tears rolling down her face and her eyes turning fire red. “I waited here all fuckin’ night for you. Do you remember you told me you were coming home early?! But instead you were fucking Troi!”

  “Oh, here you fuckin’ go!”

  “The bitch came here!” She threw his wallet at him and everything in it scattered to the floor like drops of rain. “And she told me you were fucking her! You left your wallet at her house! I really can’t fuckin’ believe this. Here I thought it was me, that I was imagining shit, that I was this and I was that, and all along it wouldn’t have mattered what I did, because you woulda still been fulla shit. I been holding on to air. You love Troi? You love Troi, then guess what? Troi can fuckin’ have
yo’ ass, cause Yuri is through. It’s over and I’m the fuck outta here. You don’t ever have to worry about my ass again!”

  “Yuri, please.” He waved his hand. “I’m tired and you shootin’ a buncha shit that I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear! If you think I’m fuckin’ her, then hell, maybe I am, maybe I should be. Then you can be right for once.”

  Yuri stood and gave Britt a crooked grin. The salty tears running from her eyes slid into the corners of her mouth. “Now I know you’re really lying because that’s the same shit I said to Jeff when I was cheating on him with you. Oh my God, Britt, you’re really fucking Troi—” Yuri felt like her body was closing in on itself. “What am I doing?” she said as if she were in a daze. “What the fuck am I really doing?”

  “How about this?” He shook his head. “Maybe you need to step, and we need to end this. You don’t trust me, you believe any fuckin’ thing, you nag me, you don’t understand me and I’m tired of it. For real, I am. It’s a wrap for this bullshit. Change your fuckin’ position and be out!”

  Yuri was convinced there would never be enough words in the English language to describe how she felt or how her heart ached. The feeling of your feet slipping from beneath you was something that could never be put into words.

  Her bottom lip trembled as if she were freezing cold. Britt sat on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. “Yo,” he said calmly. “Sit down. I’m sorry, I ain’t mean that.”

  Yuri started to pack her clothes. Although she was unsure of where she would go, she knew for a fact she had to leave. Maybe she would stay with Nae-Nae long enough to give her job two weeks notice and then go to Chicago, move in with her mother and plan her life from there.

  As Britt’s words screamed in her mind, Yuri’s head throbbed. She turned and looked at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes pleading with her to calm down.

  She swallowed and walked over to him slowly. She wasn’t sure if her feet were moving; all she knew was that she was getting closer to him. She stood before him and tears clouded her eyes, yet she could see a blurred vision of his face. She sniffed as she squinted, bit down on her bottom lip, and then proceeded to smack the shit out of him. Immediately after she slapped him she began fighting him as if she’d been waiting on this tussle all of her life. As if she was warring against life, love, and everything fucked up in the world.