by Xyla Turner
As soon as the two of us approached the cars in the driveway, I turned into him and said, “Thank you.”
“For?” he asked with his eyebrows pushed together.
“Being you,” I exclaimed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down so my lips could touch his.
“Portia,” he uttered in a warning. “We’re lunch friends, not dinner friends.”
“Huh?” I pulled back with a puzzled look on my face.
“You and I are lunch friends, which means we can have lunch, but nothing sexual. We used to be dinner friends, and we could be sexually expressive, but not anymore,” he expressed with no indication of his preference, or how this was decided.
I tried to think about what or how he equated what type of friends we are or were and why, but then I decided being direct was the best way to handle Duncan.
“I want you to fuck me into the middle of next week,” I told him. “I don’t really give a fuck what type of friends we are or need to be for that to happen, but I want you deep inside me, and I would like for you to make that happen.”
Both of Duncan’s eyebrows went up, then he nodded, as if understanding dawned on him, before he said, “So we are dinner friends. Follow me.”
I laughed, but quickly stopped when he started pulling me toward his vehicle.
“I drove, Duncan,” I told him, which caused him to stop in his tracks. “Where are we going? Is there a place around here that we could—”
“Trent…he owns a hotel near here. He told me of it.” He immediately pulled out his phone and tapped on the glass screen. “Where is your hotel located?”
There was no greeting, hello, hey, what’s up, or a grunt. Just a question blurted out. I could not hear what his response was, but Duncan listened and then disconnected the phone.
“Follow me in your car. I will drive the speed limit, so it is easier for you to follow along,” he told me as he effectively let my hand go and waited to watch me get in my car.
The Belle Hotel was not far away, under thirty minutes on the highway. My body was anticipating each and everything Duncan would do to it before the man even lays his hands on me. It almost seemed like yesterday and not a few weeks, which was a testament to how much I wanted him and what a lasting effect he had on me.
Trent must have cleared us because Duncan walked in, told them his name, and they gave him a key to a master suite on the top floor. We wasted no time. As soon as I cleared the door, Duncan grabbed my hand with a vice grip and took me to the first room that had a king-size bed. There was no time to admire the grandeur of the suite, because he ripped a thousand pillows, comforter, and the non-fitted sheet from the bed with one smooth yank and threw me on it.
Duncan took great care, but with practiced speed, to remove his clothes and place them on the furniture, while I nearly ripped mine from my body. By the time he finished, I was waiting, but then Duncan stopped.
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I have no protection. We are lunch friends, and I did not anticipate this,” he rushed out unlike his normal manner.
This was an unexpected event. He was unprepared, and I did not want him to go through the same thing he went through last time with the unprotected sex. He lost his mind about that shit. Quickly, I figured either the hotel would have condoms or maybe…
“Did you say this was Trent’s place?” I asked.
“Yes.” His head nodded.
I turned over and opened the left drawer. It revealed a Bible, the newer edition. I closed that drawer, then I opened the drawer underneath it and saw a wooden case. At first, I thought it was an assortment of special tea bags, but that made no sense, so I picked it up and opened it. It was indeed what we needed. An assortment of condoms: candy-flavored, chocolate, edible, regular, lubed, non-lubed, extra-large, extra ribbed, pretty much any kind of condom you could need.
“Jackpot,” I announced, as I thumbed through the contraceptives.
Duncan joined me, pulled the tray out of the drawers, and began to inspect each of the colorful condoms.
“Edible?” he queried, but as horny as I was, there would be no lesson in what they were.
“I’ll show you.” I smiled wickedly before snatching the package out of his hand, opening and sliding it on his thick, yet long dick.
Following the roll of the elastic band down his shaft, I leaned down and began to suck him off. At first, Duncan remained stoically still as I moved back and forth. His abs were tight, and the heat of his skin was nearly scorching my palms resting on his thighs.
“Portia,” he hissed, but I took him deeper.
The man’s voice and body were strained as a red blush moved up his body. A growl escaped him, and his fist gripped my hair as he pushed in deeper.
The sweet pain of my hair being pulled and Duncan’s hardness taking over were sexy as fuck. The head of his dick grazed the back of my throat causing me to gag. I pulled back, and he pushed in again, which had me choking again.
“Portia,” Duncan growled.
The sweet taste of the edible condom peeked my senses, and I swallowed more of the flavor. This made me want to taste all of his essence.
Duncan began to fuck my face, and during that process, I pulled the pink, strawberry condom off with my lips and began to chew. The man’s eyes grew in size, so I could see more of his pupils. Once I finished chewing on the edible pieces of the protective candy, I took him again and tried to swallow his big dick down my throat.
Duncan lost it.
He pushed me against the bed using his hips and began to slam in and out of my mouth while he fisted my hair. The man was a quiet lover, but his grunts let me know he was beyond taming, and I loved every fucking second. As his thrust grew sporadic, I knew he was close, so I held out my tongue as he continued, spurring him on until he came violently down my throat. Duncan pushed his cock further in my mouth, ensuring that I got every single bit of his seed, and I swallowed.
His ragged and heavy breaths were my undoing as I began to rub my swollen pussy. He saw me and pulled me up, so I was on the bed. Duncan tried to figure out which condom was which, but I grabbed the extra-large one and held it in my teeth while moving back toward the headboard.
Like a lion on the prowl, he smoothly moved onto the mattress, yanked my thighs down and opened them. Then he began to suck on my clit firmly, and there was nothing gentle about it. The act was very erotic and produced three orgasms that left me tired and satisfied.
I think I passed out.
The two of us drove back to D.C. with no clear plan as to what was next. He turned off to go his way, and I kept going to my place in Hyattsville.
By the time, I settled in, Bernie had called, asking me about the visit with my mom.
“Did you tell Duncan where my mom lived?” I did not answer her original question.
“Uhhh.” She hummed. “Why? Did he show up?”
“You know damn well he came because you told him,” I clapped back at her in a mocking way, since I was feeling more than good.
“So, the Belle, huh?” She quickly changed the subject, letting me know she knew where Duncan and I had ended up. I was feeling good. “Oh, the memories.”
I laughed out loud at her last comment, because I did not forget that this was the hotel where she first met Trent and smacked the bullshit out of him. My girl was not one to be trifled with, but that husband of hers was more than a notion. He broke all her rules and still made her fall in love with him. I had admired him for it. She was a tough sell.
“I’m liking Duncan,” she shared with me. “He’s different than your normal, but he’s good.”
I felt it was too early to start saying what I thought. We’d only had sex three times. I’d been flipped out on once and rescued once. I was in my apartment after a few great hours, but by myself with no plans for what was next. In some ways, I guess, I wanted a man to take charge. Maybe that was silly or antiquated, but I think with Duncan, I’d be the one pulling st
rings.
This concept reminded me of my mother, and I did not want that. She was a manipulator, and the man did not do what he wanted. That was who my father had been as a person. Whatever I wanted, he bought me. Just like mom. Whatever he could do to please us is what he did. It wasn’t that I didn’t want that out of a relationship, but I didn’t want to be the type that took advantage, which I had the tendency to do.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “He’s growing on me.”
“He’s doing more than that,” she commented. “You gave no one else another chance.”
Mmkay.
“My mother was basically a dead end, but I walked away with one thought.” I effectively changed the subject. “I got the closure I needed, which was that she was a dead end, but I tried and that was it. She’s a bitch, who blamed teenage Portia for having a good relationship with her father.”
“Damn,” Bernie hissed. “Are you kidding me?”
“I couldn’t make this shit up, if I wanted to,” I answered her. “Duncan was there and heard it all.”
“What did he say?” she asked, as a follow-up.
“Nothing really,” I told her. “He was there to support me, not fight for me, which was cool. You won’t believe it. My mother tried to flirt with him, even though she claimed to have company we never saw.”
“Damn,” Bernie repeated. “Triple Damn.’
“Yeah, girl!” I smiled, but then the phone beeped. “Hold on.”
“Hello,” I said as I looked at the beeping called simultaneously. “Oh…”
“Portia,” Duncan’s voice came over the line.
What happened and why was he calling. My heart fluttered a bit along with my girly parts. Shit. What was wrong with me? I was a grown ass woman, and I should not be tripping off the way this guy was making me feel, even after we were together earlier. Well, maybe it was because of that.
“Yes, this is she,” I replied.
“I want to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you tomorrow,” he told me and said nothing else.
“Okay,” I replied. “Was it a question? Are you asking if I have plans?”
“It is not a question. It is a statement that will require you to come over now, so that I can wake you up to breakfast, make you lunch, and because you will stay, we can then go out for dinner tomorrow evening,” Duncan clarified.
“I see,” I replied, knowing that every part of me wanted to do just that, but also knowing that contrary to my last thought about me leading, he was doing what I thought was necessary.
“Hold on, Duncan,” I told him and clicked over. “Bernie. It’s Duncan on the other line. He wants to spend the day with me. Tomorrow.”
There was silence on the phone.
“Hello?” I called.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Did you hear me?” I asked, thinking the call dropped.
“Yes, I heard you,” she replied. “Were you asking me something?”
“Yeaahhh,” I exclaimed in an exasperated sigh. “What should I tell him?”
Laughter erupted in my ear, and I almost hung up the fucking phone. Really?
“Girl, you better stop playing with that man. I’m almost certain you let him fuck the hell out of you less than a few hours ago, and now you don’t know if you want more of him. Who do you think you’re kidding?” She scoffed. “I’ll tell you what you told me. You got till the time I hang up to make a decision.”
I heard a click and realized she was, in fact, giving me a dose of my own damn medicine. The bitch hung up on me.
“Portia?” I heard Duncan’s voice call me.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Okay, see you in an hour. Peter will be there. Don’t bring anything, I have everything for you.”
Then I heard another click and that was all she wrote.
Ha.
The people I called friends.
Chapter Twelve
Portia
In one hour, there was a knock on my door and sure enough, Peter was waiting for me. He nodded a greeting, and I nabbed my purse and followed the man to the car. By the time we arrived at Duncan’s place, my nerves were back at it again. My heart was racing quickly, and I was sweating in places I wasn’t sure existed. Maybe it was the notion of the unknown. Therefore, like the woman I was, I pushed through, and as soon as Duncan opened his front door, I walked in with my questions.
“So, Duncan, what is this thing we have going on here?” I asked as I made my way straight to the couch, trying to get as comfortable as I could, despite the discomfort that clearly was gnawing at me.
“Can you explain?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“You and me. What is this?” I spoke slowly.
“I do not understand.” The man had the nerve to speak slower.
“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” I asked. “What changed?”
He eyed me for a moment, then he said, “You asked me for sex, so I asked you to share some meals.”
He said this like it was a logical answer, and I was the silly one for not knowing what it all meant. Most of the words seemed almost condescending, but he did not mean them that way.
“Duncan, do you plan to fuck me?” I asked, point blank.
“Yes, hence we are dinner friends again,” he explained.
This had me sighing because here he was with this shit again.
“What the fuck does that even mean?” I was snapping.
This time, it was he who grew quiet, as he came over to sit down on the sofa next to me.
“We were dinner friends, which meant we have intercourse or fucking, as you say,” he said. “Then, we were lunch friends and that meant no sex because we had to go back to work. You made a request of me, which I granted, and now I’m making my wishes known, which is breakfast, lunch, and dinner friends. I want you with me all the time, including the fucking, the showers with a shower cap, and, of course, pleasing you.”
He nodded as if that was the end of his declaration. Which it was. Instead of my heart ceasing from the constrictions, it began to beat faster. Holy shit.
“Does this make you uncomfortable?” he asked me.
“Slightly,” I answered honestly.
“If I make you cum with my tongue, will that lighten your angst?” he asked, and I nearly choked.
“Duncan, anytime you make me cum, it will lighten my angst, but are you saying you like being around me?”
“Yes. You make me calm, and I sleep better when you are here,” he answered and gave me nothing else.
“What else?” I guess I was fishing because he wasn’t telling me anything about how he felt.
I knew I was falling for him, but that was all. It wouldn’t last, right?
“What else?” he asked and seemed to be looking in the clouds for answers. “Portia, I am not good at this. Emotions and feelings. I am sure I have them, but it is often hard for me to express.”
“Try, Duncan,” I told him, trying not to lose my patience. “You saw my emotionless bitch of a mother earlier. Please, try.”
He nodded, and his eyebrows pushed together as if he were concentrating.
“I am happy for your success. You are a hard worker and have reaped the rewards. You care and love your friends. You also have strong feelings for your godson. You are kind to me and honest. I like that, a lot. You make me feel powerful and not powerless. You let me please you. You present as though you enjoy me and my company. I am very fond of you.”
His eyes focused on mine, then he grabbed my hands and squeezed tight.
“Thank you,” I found myself replying and squeezing his hands harder. “That was very nice and helpful.”
“Are you certain?” he replied. “You have given no indication how you feel, yet, I do not seek this out because I will take whatever you give me. Even if it is just lunch friends.”
This made my chest constrict as what he was saying meant more than those words that had been churning around in my head. They were deeper and meant m
ore than anything. He would take me no matter what I was or wasn’t. Even his comment of, “if I had dandruff, he would still like me.” At the memory of those words, I straddled him, bit his bottom lip, and pulled on his hair. This move brought his hands to my waist, and he pulled down on my body, so I could feel his arousal.
“Portia,” he growled in agony.
I bit him again, but this time on his neck, and his arms wrapped around me as he squeezed tight and jerked his hips upward. He was ready. Shit, so was I. He started biting his own way down my neck, and there was no objection from me. His ownership was something I craved. I knew there would be marks, and damn if I cared.
Extending my neck out more was my response to his first bite. He was so rough, and I fucking loved it.
In one move, Duncan stood up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he moved us to the bedroom. He flopped me down on the bed and continued to bite and suck on my neck. I barely took in the room. It was the same way I left it weeks ago. On the dresser was my deodorant, lotion, hair care products, and everything else he purchased.
“Duncan,” I said. “You didn’t change anything?”
“No,” he replied and kissed my shoulder, pushing the top of my shirt down my arms.
“Why?” I asked.
This caused him to stop, pull back and stand at the foot of the bed, shifting his gaze between me and the wall.
“Why?” he repeated.
“Why didn’t you change anything?” I asked. “All the things you purchased for me are still here.”
Duncan blinked and then he nodded before saying, “It was a reminder that someone like you could be with someone like me.”
My eyes watered, and my vision became cloudy as I said to him, “Why would you say that, Duncan? You are a gorgeous man who is more caring and sensitive about others than yourself. How can you say those things about me and not see yourself in a positive light? You are awesome and more than most women could hope for.”
I waved my hand around the room and continued, “See. No man, and I mean no man, has ever done anything like this for me. They didn’t even care, but you do. Any woman should want to be with you.”