by Risqué
“Yuri.” Britt held her by both arms so that she would stop punching him. “Hold it.” He swayed back. “Listen to me.” He shook her. “Listen to me! Stop fucking hitting me and listen! I’m sorry!”
Yuri was able to free one of her hands and smack him again. She looked at him and screamed in his face. The type of scream that translated to mean you’d been in pain for years. The type of scream that asked why a thousand times over and over again.
Britt gained control of Yuri’s free hand and squeezed her tighter.
She hated that she couldn’t move; now along with her soul her body was paralyzed. Tears poured like a river down her face and snot clogged and oozed from her nose at the same time. “I kept asking you if you wanted me to leave.” Her voice ached, her body ached, and her head ached. “I told you I wanted to leave. I would’ve been okay had you agreed that I leave then…back then…at that time…when I wasn’t so caught up, when I had control over my life…I woulda been okay…but now—now, I’ma mess.” Tears poured from her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am. I’m lost. Where”—tears were now blinding her—“where do I go from here? What do I do now?”
“I love you—I love you—I love you—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I love you—I love you—I love you—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m sorry…” Britt said it over and over again. He said it so much, he began to sound like a scratched CD stuck on repeat. He knew he’d more than fucked up this time. This time he’d gone too far. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do, all he knew was that he wasn’t letting Yuri leave because if she did he knew she wasn’t coming back. “You ain’t going no fuckin’ where, Yuri. We gon’ work through this. I don’t know what she said but I promise you I ain’t fuck her. And I don’t love her. I don’t love nobody but you. I never loved nobody like I love you. I’m here and I want you. Please don’t leave, baby, what I’ma do if you go? I’m so, so sorry.”
“Well sometimes, Britt”—Yuri relaxed her shoulders, as he released her from his embrace—“sorry ain’t good enough.”
“You ain’t leaving.” He pulled up a chair and blocked the path. “I don’t give a damn you say, nah. You mad right now, but you gon’ chill the fuck out. This is about us, me and you. We’ll camp out in this motherfucker until you get it together. So you may as well sit down.” He reached over to the stand that sat next to his entranceway and lit a cigar.
Yuri stood there for a moment and looked at Britt. Confusion started to set in and then she remembered that she was pregnant and maybe she needed to see if they had anything left worth saving. But then she thought about how tired she was and how she just couldn’t do it anymore. She needed some time. Some time away from this. All of this was simply too much. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked straight ahead out the window at the moonlight.
Britt stared at Yuri and studied her beauty. And he studied why he’d fucked up. What in the hell possessed him to kick it, even in the slightest fashion, to Troi? He didn’t love her and he knew Yuri would never believe that, especially after the way he acted and the way he spat knives at her from deep in his throat. Damn, he meant to slice her jugular but he didn’t mean for the shit to twirl and enter her heart.
He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t; all he could do was sit there in the chair blocking the way to an inevitable good-bye, with his legs gapped open, his arms locked behind his neck, and his dreads swaying over his shoulders.
What was he thinking, to fuck up like this? He knew he loved Yuri. He loved everything about her, her smile, the way one cheek sat slightly higher than the other when something was really funny to her. The way her lips folded into her mouth when she was surprised, and the way her mouth curled just a little on the right side when she was about to cry. And she was so pretty, and yeah she had the bomb pussy but now when he fucked her, he didn’t just fuck her because her body turned him on, he made love to her because of how she made him feel. Like he was king of the fuckin’ world. He knew that she was the type of chick that even if he lived in the projects she would make it feel like a mansion and here he’d ruined it all, in one sweep, one silly-ass night where he stayed out, lay next to Troi with all the intentions in the world to do her, only for her to take her clothes off and for he and his soft dick to realize that he didn’t want anybody but Yuri.
Britt walked over to Yuri and stood between her legs. He could look in her eyes and tell she still loved him. The only thing missing from her glare was a second chance. He didn’t want to say anything because he knew his words weren’t having any effect, so he figured he would try this: running his hands through her hair, kissing her, caressing her and holding her tightly. He knew his hold was too unyielding but he needed her to understand how much he loved her and that he was never letting her go.
Yuri knew he was trying to tell her he loved her by the way he was kissing her. His tongue was speaking a language all its own as it licked a trail down her neck, over her breast and to her sweetness. He pulled her pants off. “I love you so fuckin’ much,” he said as he spread her legs, “I can’t let you leave. Because then what I’ma do?” He sucked her pussy soft and slow and then fast and hard. With every thought he had he stroked his tongue and the faster he moved the wetter she became and the more he said I love you.
Yuri didn’t even fight off the urge to scream. She simply let it all out, especially since this would be the last time they made love so intensely.
After she came Britt took off her blouse and nursed her swollen nipples.
Yuri wrapped her arms around his neck as she looked in his face. His eyes were filled with tears, but he never let one slip. Her mind combed through the thousand memories they shared, from the first time they made love, to the last time he made her laugh. She thought of all the good times and the bad all while feeling his dick cry out to her.
As Britt made love to Yuri he didn’t know if he wanted to go fast or slow or both. So he rotated the movement. Yet his strokes were always long and deep. Intense and with precision. Neither one of them had ever felt like this. His body was begging her to stay and hers was fighting to go.
“Don’t go, baby,” he whispered in her ear. They were both rocking and she was crying. As each tear fell he kissed it off her face. “I won’t be able to breathe if you leave me.” His voice was extremely low, yet firm as he spoke. “I need you Yuri. I need you to breathe.” He held her with such intensity that he was sure his fingers made bruises on her back.
Yuri attempted to push him over so she could ride him, but he held her down. “Stay here.”
Their bodies made the most engaging music either of them had ever heard; it was better than Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday and Nina Simone all put together. The sound of their bodies tussling with one another, him entering her over and over again. And the sound of her cumming all over his dick. The sound was so magical that anyone listening would swear they’d captured the essence of love.
As Britt felt his nut about to rush and Yuri felt her pelvis begin to contract they held each other and they both came while he pressed his face against hers, causing her tears to slide against his cheeks as he whispered her name.
Britt rolled to the back of Yuri where he kissed her from her shoulder to her tailbone. He held her tightly to his chest and buried his nose into her hair, as they both lay and eventually fell asleep.
Hours later the radio was playing Toni Braxton’s “Another Sad Love Song” as Yuri crept out of the bed. She stepped quietly to the floor, slipped on a pair of jeans and grabbed one of his tee shirts and put it on. His smell lingered in it, but it was okay, besides she was pregnant so his smell wasn’t all that she would be taking.
She grabbed her suitcase, slipped her shoes on and headed toward the door. “So that’s it, huh?” poured over her shoulder, as she turned the knob. She could hear him breathing from across the room.
She refused to turn around. Turning around would’ve made her stay, his eyes would’ve persuade
d her and that’s not what she wanted; she needed this, she needed to leave.
“Yo’ my man, I love you. And I don’t want you to go. Don’t go, baby, please don’t go.”
Yuri turned the doorknob an inch more, the lock slowly folding back. She opened the door slightly and placed her hand in the crack.
“Yo’ my man, you leaving me?”
Yuri didn’t say a word, instead she opened the door and walked out.
Drae
The scent of jasmine and the sensual beats of Apollonia welcomed Drae to the home she once shared with Hassan. This was the first time she’d been here and realized it was a stage. A movie of sorts, an impromptu blue script that unfolded over and over again. Some takes better than others, but nevertheless the film kept rolling: from her showers to the secret times she played with her pussy and rode the retractable pole she thought was for her husband’s eyes only. All the times she sucked her cream off his dick…and the auditions. The auditions. The auditions were the worst; everyone knew but her. The actors…Hassan…everyone knew and here she thought they were secretly being freaky.
The shock of being a famous porn star had given Drae a headache. All she could hear was Naz saying, I thought you knew— How didn’t you know? I thought you knew— How didn’t you know? I thought you knew! It was like a broken record, an echo that pumped in and out of her mind. As soon as she thought she’d forgotten about it, it came back with a vengeance, I thought you knew. Wretched whore, stupid bitch, dumb-ass slut. Everything she could think of, she was. A porn star. A fuckin’ porn star named Sunshine. With a pussy that people came from miles and miles to get up in. She’d become the Beyoncé of the underground world, a rising staple. She didn’t even know, until she saw the jacket for her latest DVD, that she was this year’s XRCO, AVN, and Eroticline awards winner for best oral performer, best rider, best actress and most creative techniques. And no one even cared that she didn’t show up for the ceremony, it just added to the mystery of it all.
It was like walking into someone else’s life. She thought she’d traded places with an impersonator. It was all too much in one day. And now here she stood, not knowing who she was or what she was doing. Was she being taped now? There were recessed lights all around, and she didn’t know which ones contained cameras. Her life was over, she just didn’t know if she should surrender her soul at this moment or after she sliced Hassan’s throat.
For the first time since they’d moved here, Drae noticed that the wooden floors creaked. So she did what she could to quietly tiptoe through the house.
As she walked through the dining room, she saw two plates of half-eaten salmon and salad, a basket of bread, two candles that were burned almost to the last of their wick and an empty bottle of wine. Confirming for her that not only was Hassan here, but his bitch was too. It had crossed her mind to say “To hell with it,” walk out the door and never come back. But how could she do that? She’d given everything to this man and he had to pay for what he’d done. She grabbed the butcher knife and was prepared to go to work on Hassan’s ass. If there was a price to pay for chopping him up, she’d have to worry about it later, but for now all she wanted was to see blood.
As Drae approached the bedroom, she could hear moans and the bed squeaking. She took a deep breath and kicked the door open. “You motherfucker!” she screamed, as Hassan lay on his back with a woman—Crystal—galloping backward on his dick with her extremely large titties flopping in the air.
Immediately the woman’s eyes popped open and she looked at Drae.
“Drae!!!” Hassan yelled as she ran toward the bed waving the butcher knife in the air as if she were flying a kite. Yet before she could bring the knife down on Hassan, the girl attacked her, knocking her to the floor and causing the knife to slide across the room.
Drae started defending herself with everything she had. Punching, kicking, biting and swinging as if she’d been professionally trained. “It’s over, Hassan!” She pounded the woman on the head. “I don’t believe this shit!” she screamed.
“Get offa her!” Hassan yanked the woman who’d been riding his dick away from Drae, and threw her into the wall.
“You fuckin’ crazy!” the woman screamed.
As Drae stood up straight, breathing as if her lungs were being snatched out, she looked up at the woman, who was pressed against the wall. And as if Drae’s eyes were controlled by a fast-forward button, they darted from Hassan to this chick, over and over again. She couldn’t stop, something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Why did this chick pinned against the wall have a dick? A dick. Slowly Drae’s vision went blurry and, like a slithering snake, she withered to the floor and passed out. When she came to, the chick was gone and Hassan was standing there with a gun pointed in her face.
“What the fuck you doing here, Drae?” He kicked her in the side. “You gon’ embarrass me in front of my friends?! Do you know how that felt?!”
“Your friends?!” Drae screamed. “You were fucking a niggah! A man! He was riding your dick with his ass! Oh my God, you been fucking men all this time?!”
He kicked her in the side. “You don’t know what I’ve been doing! ’Cause you left me! Left me all alone, knowing you owed me. Knowing that you were supposed to stay with me no matter what!” He continued to kick her.
“Stop kicking me, you fucking faggot!” she spat. “I can’t believe you’re a fuckin’ faggot!”
Hassan started kicking Drae over and over again, and she could feel her skin burst open. “Aww!” she cried, her voice filled with pain. “Get off me!” she screamed. Hassan took his foot and kicked her again. She could feel blood dripping, but didn’t know from where.
“Apologize, bitch!” He waved the gun.
“I’m not apologizing for shit! You ruined my life. How did you think I wouldn’t find out, Hassan?! Huh? How did you think I wouldn’t find out that you’ve been selling porn tapes of me! You made me a fuckin’ porn star, some bitch named Sunshine; you didn’t care shit about me. I wasn’t shit to you but a high-class piece of pussy! A porn star, Hassan…Oh…my…God!”
Hassan looked stunned for a moment, and then he snatched her off the floor by her hair. “What you need to be doing is thanking me, bitch! So you found out,” he chuckled. “Well then, good, you can be about your fuckin’ business and I won’t have to keep cartin’ these motherfuckers in here as if it’s nothing. I made somethin’ outta you. You wasn’t shit, do you know that? You were nothing, and if it weren’t for me you still wouldn’t be shit!”
Tears poured down Drae’s face as she gave a hard snort and gathered what felt like an abundance of spit, hauled off and skeeted it directly into Hassan’s face.
“You spit on me, bitch?!” He wiped it off his face with the back of his hand. He cocked his gun and pointed it to her head. “I got one bullet in this motherfucker and you ’bout to be buried with it!” He pulled the trigger, the gun went off and, although she felt like she was bound to die, she was still alive. There was no bullet in that shot.
Within an instant Drae started throwing up. “Please stop!” she cried and gagged at the same time. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. I have to get away from you!”
“You ain’t going nowhere, bitch!” He cocked the gun again. “You gon’ leave me, Drae?”
The room was practically silent and the only sound that could be heard besides Hassan’s heavy breathing was the vomit thrusting between Drae’s lips onto the floor. “Talk, bitch!” He yanked her head back, her vomit pouring down the front of her clothing. “You leaving me?!”
Silence.
“Answer me!”
“No—” she screamed.
“No, what?!”
“I’m not—I’m not leaving you.”
“I didn’t think so!” He kissed her roughly on the cheek. “Now apologize, bitch!”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Say it louder!”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” He start
ed pushing her head down toward his crotch.
“No, Hassan,” she cried.
“Bitch, don’t tell me no!” He pointed the gun at her head. “Now suck this dick! Eat that niggah ass and apologize while you at it!”
As he held the gun in one hand while unzipping his pants and taking out his dick with the other, he rubbed Drae’s face in his crotch, before smacking her across the face with his dick. “Think you so fuckin’ stand-up? Huh, bitch? Think you leaving me? Think you ain’t doing no more fuckin’ pornos? You owe me, bitch.” He tried to smack her in the face again with his dick but she turned away.
“Oh you tryna get away?” Hassan, still holding the gun in his hand took his dick, aimed and pissed all over Drae. The pee ran like water down her face, over her body and onto the floor. “The next time I tell you”—he picked her up by the hair—“to suck this dick, you better be on your job, bitch!” As he thrust her face onto his shaft, she hauled off and bit him so hard that the splitting skin around his pubic bone left blood on her lips.
Instantly the gun went off and Hassan tumbled to the floor inches away from falling on top of her.
Drae was moving so fast she didn’t know she’d been shot. All she could see and feel was the flowing blood pouring from her shoulder and the burning sensation racing through her arm.
Since standing up would’ve taken too much time she crawled toward the door, and fled down the stairs.
Once she reached the bottom, she ran into the kitchen and looked around. She wanted to run toward the front door, then she saw the patio doors and the lanai lights from the neighbor’s house shining through. As she started to run she felt Hassan grabbing her into a choke hold; instantly she started to gag. “Jesus! Please, Jesus! Please stop!” The more she yelled stop, the tighter his hold became.