by Carl Weber
“I’m sorry, honey, but the rules are the rules. Hey, what’s a couple of weeks?” I said with an amused grin.
“In a couple of weeks you’ll have this whole thing up and running and there won’t be any turning back. You’re not even giving me a chance, LC.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right, honey. Sorry.”
She was fuming at this point. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so sarcastic, but I couldn’t help myself.
“You think you’re so slick, don’t you? Well, if that’s the way you plan on playing it, then so be it. Just remember two can play at this game, and there are a lot of things that you’re going to have to wait until next month for. One of them is sleeping in my bed. Your things will be in our guest room until we have this vote next month.”
And on that note, she turned and walked out of my office.
Sasha
8
“How ’bout we finish our drinks then take this party upstairs?” He gave me an angelic smile that could have melted the coldest of hearts. His voice, however, had a hint of overconfidence to it as he dangled his room keycard in front of my face.
I didn’t mind a man with swagger. In fact, I preferred bad boys. That is, as long as their swagger matched their abilities and didn’t simply disguise their flaws.
“You know, I’m not gonna lie, it’s a very tempting offer, but I really shouldn’t,” I replied, taking a sip of my cosmo.
“Why is that? We’re both grown-ups, consenting adults, right?”
I leaned back and stared at him over my drink, not offering up an answer to his question yet. I wasn’t against getting laid. It had been a while since I’d had some—a long while—but I had no intention of making it easy for him. That just wasn’t my style.
His name was Ricky Jones, and he was about as easy on the eyes as a man could be. I’d met him about an hour ago when he offered to buy me a drink after eyeing me for twenty minutes from across the bar. I was sure he’d seen me shoot down at least five men before him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was just that confident—or maybe cocky was a better word. Whichever one it was didn’t matter, because I had a thing for chocolate brothers with dimples, and he had a sexy Morris Chestnut thing about him. The thick, juicy lips only added to his appeal.
So, two shots and three cosmopolitans later, there we were, faced with the moment of truth: was he going to get lucky or not?
“Yeah, we’re both consenting adults . . .” I nodded coyly, anxious to see how he would play this. “But I barely know you. You could be some type of deranged killer.”
“True, but then again, so could you.” He smirked, and I laughed along with him. “However, I could also be the best lover you’ve ever had. You have no idea what I’m packing down here.” He discreetly cupped his joint.
It was starting to get warm in that bar, but I still wasn’t ready to let him win. “You could be packing a bazooka, but if your head game isn’t tight, I might as well sit at this bar and have three more drinks.” I glanced down at his crotch. “Because what you’re holding in your hand is only a portion of what I need.”
He chuckled. “Oh, my head game is more than tight; it’s award winning. But talk is cheap. I’m a man of action. I can show you a hell of a lot better than I can tell you.” He licked those thick lips, and the way he was staring at me quickly made me a believer. Damn, it was really getting hot in there.
“Okay, then,” I replied seductively. “Show me.” There was no sense in playing hard to get anymore, because he was speaking my language.
He took my hand and led me through the throngs of people in the lobby and into the elevator bank. I leaned against the wall as we waited for the elevator, and he pressed his body against mine then gave me a kiss with the softest lips. His tongue searched hungrily for mine. Damn, he knew how to use that tongue. I couldn’t wait to see what other ways he’d put his mouth to use once we got upstairs.
The doors chimed open and we stepped into an empty elevator. Before the doors shut fully he was all over me from behind, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing just the right amount for a sudden mix of pleasure and pain. He pulled me in tight, pressing his groin against my ass as he sucked on my neck. This brother planned on leaving evidence, and I liked it.
“That’s it. Show me,” I whispered.
“I plan to,” he moaned as the doors opened. “I plan on showing you a lot of things.”
We seemed to float out of the elevator, kissing and groping our way to his room. He removed the keycard from his inside jacket pocket and inserted it into the door. Stepping aside, he motioned me into his suite. I barely had a chance to look around before he grabbed me from behind and spun me around, exploring my mouth with his tongue as his hands caressed my ass. My body felt like it was on fire.
He pushed me gently toward the bed, and I dropped my purse onto the floor as I fell onto the mattress. He stood over me, staring at me lustfully. Running his hands up my legs and under my skirt, he smiled when he discovered my surprise: I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Show me,” I said. “Show me what you can do.”
He didn’t take his eyes off my exposed thighs as he removed his jacket and tossed it to the side. I enjoyed the show as he unbuttoned his shirt, showing off the skillful tattoo art that covered his left side. There was something about a guy revealing his tats that turned me on. Moving my gaze lower, I was pleasantly surprised to see that his boxers could barely contain the bulge in them.
He followed my line of vision, touching the outline of his penis against the fabric. He pulled his boxers down, and out flopped the biggest dick I’d ever seen. I mean, this thing was huge.
It was so large I actually gasped.
“Like I said, I can show you better than I can tell you,” he said.
Oh yes, he was showing me all right. He was showing me so well I instantly became wet. I was so flustered looking at the thing that I had to pause to catch my breath—and he hadn’t even touched me with it yet.
When I regained my composure, I reached around to unbutton my dress. The silk fabric slid down my body, freeing my flawless C-cup breasts. He wasn’t the only one with something spectacular to reveal.
“Wow,” he said at the sight of my breasts. “They’re perfect. They’re absolutely perfect. Not too big, not too small. Perfect.”
He eased his way on to the bed, straddling me as he placed his lips on one nipple, paying just enough attention to it that it stuck out like the tip of an eraser before he moved on to its twin and did the same. Once both my breasts were fully under his spell, he kissed his way down my body, lifting the hem of my dress all the way up to my waist.
“Beautiful” he remarked, approving of my full Brazilian wax. “You have to be the most beautiful woman alive.”
“Will you stop talking and show me?” I whispered.
He chuckled, lowering his head between my legs. He kissed my pussy lips then gave my slit a series of toe-curling wet pecks until he found my clitoris. His open mouth surrounded my clit, and he sucked hard, making a vacuum-tight seal. All the while his tongue worked its way around my love button as if he was giving me a French kiss. I’m not gonna lie: that shit felt so good it made me scream. This was the work of a professional, I thought as his tongue continuously ran across my throbbing clit, changing texture and firmness. One second it was rough like a cat, the next it was wet and soft, then it was firm and slippery. His oral skills manipulated my body so well I was shivering. For the first time in my life I can honestly say I didn’t just come, I climaxed—and up until that moment I didn’t know there was a difference.
“What the fuck was that? And more importantly, can you do it again?” I stared at him in amazement, still not sure if this was real life or some amazing dream.
“Baby, I can do it as many times as you want.” He lowered his head, but I held him off with both hands, hoping for a moment to recover.
“You’re gonna have to give me a second before you do that again. If we could bottle th
at shit up and sell it we’d make million. No, billions. Shit, you could make a girl become a stalker with skills like that. You take that ‘show me’ shit seriously, don’t you?”
He laughed, sliding up the bed until his lips were over mine. He kissed me, trying to position his hips between my legs, but I stopped him, knowing exactly what was on his mind.
“Hold on, handsome. No glove, no love.”
“Seriously?” He looked at me as if I might be joking.
“Seriously!” Oh, I wanted to fuck his ass, if only to see what it would feel like to have something that big inside me, but I wasn’t letting anyone up inside me raw.
“I’ll pull out. I promise,” he pleaded with this puppy dog look, but his promises didn’t mean shit to me.
“Not with me you won’t,” I replied firmly. “Now, are you gonna go get a condom or has our little party come to an end?”
His expression revealed his disappointment, not only because he wanted to ride this thing bareback, but because obviously his ass didn’t have a condom.
I gave him a slight shove. “Get up. I have one in my bag.”
He rolled off me, looking relieved. I slid off the bed, opened my bag, reached past my gun, and retrieved a condom. As I crawled my way back on the bed, I took another good look at his dick. Damn, that thing was big. Thank God I always came prepared, because I would have hated not being able to ride that monster.
“You know we’re lucky I have a magnum, because a regular size condom wouldn’t fit you.”
“I know. I’m not sure if a magnum’s gonna do much better. Last time I used one of them I busted right through it.”
“Busted right through it!” A chill ran through me, and suddenly I wasn’t necessarily in the mood to fuck. I came from a family of Fertile Myrtles. “You know what? Maybe I should give you a blow job.” Then jokingly I said, “I wonder if I can deep throat you?”
He took hold of the small baseball bat he called his dick and laughed. “You can try.”
I got on top of him, kissing my way down his body until I reached the bottom of the bed. When my knees landed on the floor, I positioned myself between his legs so my head was directly in front of his manhood. I knew he had a big dick the second he dropped his boxers, but now that I was up close and personal the damn thing wasn’t big, it was humongous. There was no way in hell I was deep-throating him, but I’d learned a few tricks over the years.
I took hold of his hard dick, jerking my hand up and down the shaft steadily until he arched his back. Instead of focusing my attention on his large mushroom head like he expected, I began to jerk my hand faster as I licked his balls.
Got ya, I thought when he let out a long, pleasurable moan. All men like to have their dicks sucked, but I hadn’t met a man yet who didn’t love to have his balls licked and sucked. His eyes connected with mine as I placed my whole mouth around his sack, sucking not one but both his balls gently into my mouth.
“Oh, shit! Oh, shit! What the fuck!” he damn near screamed.
Meanwhile, my hand was jacking him off with the precision of a piston in a V8 engine. With my free hand, I reached next to the bed for my purse, rummaging through it until I found the four-inch object I was looking for. For a moment he lifted his head, looking concerned that I had slowed down.
“What’s that?” he asked. I lifted the dick-shaped object. “A vibrator?”
I didn’t want to stop what I was doing, so I gave him a quick thumbs up.
“Um, what exactly do you plan on doing with that? Is that for your pleasure or mine? I’m not into that prostate shit!”
I released his balls from my mouth, but my hand never stopped jerking him off. “Don’t worry. This right here is all for me,” I stated clearly.
“Damn, you one hell of a freak, aren’t you?”
I lifted my head. “It’s all part of my illness.”
“Illness!” I could feel his dick deflate in my hand. Poor fool was probably afraid I might have some kind of STD. “What kind of illness?”
“I don’t know if it’s so much an illness, or more of a condition,” I said nonchalantly. “It depends on what doctor you talk to, but they all seem to think I’m a certified nymphomaniac.”
“Get the fuck outta here. For real?” The smile on his face was huge, like he’d just won the lottery or something. And of course, his dick was rock hard again. “Well, then get back to what you was doing. I wouldn’t want your condition to get worse. Besides, that shit you was doing is off the chain.”
“If you think that was off the chain, I’m about give you something that will stop your heart.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Show me, baby.”
He threw his head back against the bed, waiting for more pleasure. This time I did go for his mushroom head, taking it into my mouth like an oversized lollipop. I sucked on it hard, wiggling my tongue along its slit until his entire body jerked.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. You about to do something no one else has ever done. You’re about to make me come from a blow job.” His words of encouragement made me work even harder. I sucked as much of his penis into my mouth as I could while simultaneously jerking him off until his body lurched forward. “Oh, shit, baby. Please don’t stop! Please don’t stop! I’m about to cum!” His body began to shake violently. I lifted my head, jerking my hand as quickly as I could. “Oh, shit! I’m cumming!” he screamed.
I watched as his semen shot high in the air, landing onto his chest and stomach. The thought crossed my mind to crawl up onto the bed and sit on his face so he could make me scream in erotic bliss one more time. Instead, I pushed a switch on the side of the object I was holding in my free hand. It didn’t vibrate like you might have expected, because it wasn’t a vibrator at all. It was an ice pick, and the lever I’d pushed released a sharp steel blade from the tip.
For a split second I savored the time we’d just shared and the phenomenal way he’d made me feel, but my training had taught me not to get emotionally involved. I plunged the blade into Ricky’s chest four times, piercing his heart, both lungs, and his spleen before he had a clue that anything was wrong. His eyes popped open, registering shock, but before he could react, I delivered six more wounds to major organs. He was dead before the last blow landed.
I reached up and closed his eyes because I hated when the dead stared at me.
“I told you I was going to stop your heart,” I whispered.
I stood up and grabbed my bag. Glancing over at him and his oversized dick, I had to shake my head at the unnecessary waste of a good lover. Damn shame someone that good in the sack wouldn’t be around to service the next one. The things he could have taught men about eating pussy were irreplaceable. I kind of regretted the fact that I hadn’t let him go down on me one more time before taking him out.
“You really should have paid your debt, Ricky,” I told him then walked into the bathroom and cleaned my instrument. I hopped in the shower, dried off, and got dressed before I made a phone call.
An Indian voice I didn’t recognize chirped on the line, and I had to laugh. Even the Assassins’ Guild was outsourcing their customer service to India. “Hello, Ms. Sasha. I take it your assignment is complete.”
“Yes, the job is done, but I’m going to need a cleanup team in room 321 of the Ritz Carlton in Dearborn,” I informed the person on the other end.
“No problem. I will arrange for that. What is the extent of the cleanup?”
I glanced over at the body. Except for a few small spots of blood at the entry points, you might just think he was sleeping. “Light.”
“Very good. I was also told to inform you that your vacation has been approved and your employer has arranged a suite to be held in your name at the Marriott Marina hotel in Maui. I hope you enjoy Hawaii.”
“Now that’s what I call a good boss. Tell my employer thank you.”
“I will do that.”
I hung up then gave the room the once over before I headed out, on my way
to a tropical paradise.
Paris
9
For the first time in what seemed like forever, I’d slept for more than two hours straight. The red digital numbers on the alarm clock by my bed read 3:54 PM, which meant I’d gone damn near four hours without my son Jordan screaming at the top of his lungs to be fed, changed, or just plain nurtured. I wanted to lay back down, but the aching pain in my breasts told me it was time to feed my little rugrat. I sat up in my bed and glanced over at his crib. He was gone, along with his blanket and portable bassinet, but I didn’t panic. I was sure my mother had taken him.
I dragged my tired self over to the dresser, removing my soaking wet nipple pads and replacing them with new ones. I can’t begin to explain how disgusting it was to be leaking milk all over the place. Why the hell I had let them talk me into breast-feeding I would never know. A little Similac never hurt nobody.
Looking in the mirror at the wet spots on the front of my shirt, it hit me: this was all London’s fault. Everyone in the family acted like she was the damn Mother of the Year or something, so of course she was breast-feeding my niece Maria. I couldn’t be any less of a mother than my sister, and I didn’t want to hear anyone’s mouth about how I was harming Jordan if I didn’t breast-feed, so I spent half my days letting my son suck the life outta my once-perfect titties. It was only a matter of time before they were hanging down to my waist.
Damn, I know people say your life changes for the better when you have kids, but it had only been a week since I’d given birth and this motherhood shit was already cramping my style. I loved my son, but I was ready to have my old life back. As I turned around and checked out my rear view in the mirror, I realized one very sad fact: before I could get my life back, I had to get my body back. Pinching the new roll of fat that had deposited itself around my middle, I tried to comfort myself with the idea that at least I still looked better than London. That wasn’t saying much, though, since I was comparing myself to Sally Homemaker. Truth was I really needed to get my ass to the gym to get my sexy back.