by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome
I honestly don’t know how he could have had two girlfriends. I know I wore his ass out, and I got plenty of his time and money. We had to have truly drained him, though I suspect that she wasn’t putting it down in any department, especially not the bedroom, and he had been with her for the business connections and appearance of being with a lawyer. It damn sure wasn’t for her personal appearance, because I saw her picture once, and she certainly wasn’t cute. She was downright matronly.
Just thinking about it made me heated all over again. What had been so wrong with me that I didn’t look good enough on paper? I had a degree and I was smart, plus I had talent and was fine and a freak. I just wasn’t pulling in the big dollars nor was I well known. But I made sure he was satisfied in every way that I could. I could never understand what she gave him that I didn’t. Especially since I knew that his “side counsel” was getting sloppy seconds; there’s no way in hell they could have had the kind of physical connection we did. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was still in his life, but I wasn’t going to ask. What did it matter anyway? We were just two old friends sharing a meal.
We talked about music, one of great shared loves, and the industry. As his lips moved, I fantasized about how they would feel, nipping at my neck, licking my clavicle, and sucking my nipples. I shifted uneasily in my chair and felt my La Perlas getting moist. And I know the sexual attraction was mutual. Spock found reasons to touch my hand, rub my shoulder, and he even brushed a stray lock of hair from my eyes. I know it sounds innocent, but it was suggestive as hell. He wanted me too.
Dinner was perfect, and we finished up with key lime pie for dessert and coffee. It wasn’t the coffee that had me feeling warm, though, it was Spock. I was burning up inside with uncontrollable desire, although I maintained the illusion of composure. I excused myself to go the ladies’ room while Spock settled the tab. My hands shook lightly as I reapplied my lipstick, dusted my face with a sweep of powder, and washed my hands. The moment of truth was coming. The games were about to advance to the next round.
The time had come for us to decide if I would go back to see his new house. I knew that if I went, the only room I would see was his bedroom. I wanted so badly to go, but I knew that would destroy my entire plan. I wanted to tease him, torture him, and make him want me. But the plan was backfiring. I wanted to jump his bones. I didn’t want to tease or beat around the bush, I wanted to fuck.
“I’m sure you have a long day ahead of you,” he told me as he looked at his watch. It was around midnight.
“Yeah, I do,” I said, and it was true.
“Did your car wait, or can I do the honor of escorting you back to your hotel?” he asked. I was glad he didn’t ask if I wanted to see his house, because I didn’t want to be tempted, but I was disappointed at not having the chance to turn him down.
“You still got that big, pretty quarter-to-eight?” I asked, referring to his BMW 745.
“Yeah. I’ve got a Porsche Cayenne too.”
“Big baller,” I teased.
“Nah, that’s you.”
“Yeah, it is me,” I said with a laugh. He laughed too.
I don’t know what came over the both of us once we got in his car. I don’t know if it was the music from the smooth jazz and R&B station that was playing, or the wine we drank at dinner, but something overwhelmed us. At the first red light, we caught each other’s eye, fell into each other’s arms and started kissing. Not a simple, chaste peck either. I’m talking about straight-up busting slob. It was like we were two high school kids getting in last minute gropes while trying to make curfew; we were all over each other, touching every body part within reach. A horn blared from behind us and Spock reluctantly broke our embrace and drove through the intersection, but that didn’t break the mood.
As soon as we pulled into a space in the hotel parking garage, we picked up where we’d left off. We kissed and touched each other urgently, pulling at each other’s clothes. I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands across his chest. He reached inside my dress and squeezed my breasts, stroking my nipples until I was moaning and squirming.
Spock must have paid the programming director at the radio station, because every song that played seemed like it was meant just for us. I looked into his soft brown eyes as Mint Condition sang “Pretty Brown Eyes,” and felt the lyrics deep down inside when the lead singer Stokely begged, “Quit breaking my heart.” The next song hit me just as hard when Kem asked, “How did you find your way back in my life?” Tina Marie’s “Out on a Limb” told just what was in my heart: “I’ve never felt so sure and yet I feel so insecure, what am I gonna do?”
“You still want me, don’t you, Songbird?” Spock asked me in between kisses.
“Yes,” I gasped, grabbing his crotch. “And you want me too.”
His hands found his way under my dress and beneath my panties. He began to explore me, his fingers expertly stroking all the spots that made me purr.
“You’re so wet,” he said, plunging his fingers inside of me. He knew exactly what buttons to push and how I would respond. He teased my clit, bringing my body higher and higher, until I was about to explode. He ran his fingers along my inner lips, causing me to arch my back and spread my legs. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, sitting in the front seat with the console between us, so I suggested that we move to the back seat. He ignored me, instead using the controls by his side to maneuver my seat until it lay flush against the back seat. He crawled over the console and got on top of me, kissing me deeply. Our tongues danced and intertwined and we moaned, pulling at each other’s bodies in an effort to get even closer.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes!”
“Say it!”
“I want you to fuck me,” I moaned. “Please fuck me, baby.”
He inserted his fingers into my pussy again and wriggled them around a bit while circling my clit with his thumb.
“I’ve got to feel that dick. Please give it to me.” I was begging now. Fuck pride; I had none left. My plans for stringing him along were aborted. All I had left was desire. He prolonged the torture, continuing to finger fuck me. Finally, he pulled his fingers out, brought them to his lips, and then licked them.
“You taste so good,” he told me. Then he dipped back into my pussy, this time bringing his fingers to my lips.
“Taste,” he ordered. I sucked his fingertips into my mouth slowly, imitating fellatio.
“Is that how you want to suck my dick?” he asked.
“Yes,” I gasped, then flipped him over like a Sumo wrestler and straddled him. Our eyes locked as I pulled his jacket off and grabbed his shirt by the collar. I kissed him deeply before pulling the fabric of his shirt until I could feel the buttons pop off and knew his chest was exposed. I licked my way down his body before yanking off his belt and opening his pants. I didn’t bother to take them all the way off; I couldn’t in the cramped space, so I just pushed them down around his ankles.
His throbbing dick greeted me, erect and at least ten inches long. I slid it into my mouth, savoring the taste of him. Flicking my tongue along the shaft, I looked up at him to gauge his reaction. He was definitely enjoying it. I moved my mouth up and down slowly, caressing his balls with one hand and stroking his hardness up and down with the other.
“Damn, woman,” he muttered. “I missed you.”
My hand pumped like a piston as I sucked harder and harder. He was on the brink of losing control and pulled me away from him by my hair, looked at me with animalistic passion and growled, “I need to feel you.”
The windows of the Cayenne were all fogged up, and it wasn’t the most comfortable situation, but none of that was on my mind. I needed to feel him the way he needed to feel me. I dug in my purse for a condom, rolled it on, and then lowered myself onto his monster cock. We rocked together in perfect rhythm, looking into each other’s eyes, moaning, grunting, and sighing, making a melody all our own.
I rode him with a
ll my might, thrashing and winding my hips in ecstasy. He made me feel so good, but at the same time, I started to feel so bad. The pain of the memories of how badly he’d hurt me mingled with the pleasure of him inside me, and tears started to roll down my cheeks.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said. “Let it out.”
I didn’t break down and cry, though. I gritted my teeth, grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. I was choking him, riding him furiously, and before I could stop myself, I slapped him. I thought he was going to freak out, or worse, slap me back, but he didn’t. It excited him, and he thrust himself hard against my body in an attempt to match my maniacal pace. I slapped him again and again until he grabbed my hands. But he didn’t stop fucking me. Instead he pulled my body against his and told me he was about to come.
“Come with me baby,” he whispered in my ear, and I did.
Afterward, I felt weak in every sense of the word. He held me in his arms and stroked my hair, kissing my forehead and cheeks. He sang softly to me and told me all the little things a woman loves to hear. You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft. Your hair is so pretty. You make me feel so good. I could feel my emotions getting caught up; the love I used to have for him had come rushing back. I was doomed.
Verse 2
I was just about to turn in and go to sleep when my cell phone rang. I almost broke my neck running to get it, and it was exactly who I’d hoped it would be.
“Hey,” he said. It was Spock.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to disguise the fact that I’d been anxious to answer.
“I was just calling to tell you good night. Or good morning. You know what I mean.”
“Thanks. I had a good time this evening, or this morning. You know what I mean,” I said. We laughed a little.
“Good…me too,” he said, sounding a bit distracted.
There was an awkward silence.
“Can I see you again before you leave town?” he asked suddenly.
I thought about it. Was he asking me if we could fuck again before I left? That’s what would happen if we saw each other again. But I wanted to fuck him again, so it didn’t really matter.
“That would be nice,” I told him. “Will you come to my party tomorrow night?”
“Are you sure that I won’t be in the way? I saw how many fans you had tonight at dinner. You’re going to be mobbed.”
“I wouldn’t ask if you would be in the way.”
“And I wouldn’t miss your party for anything in the world. I’m flattered that you invited me.”
“Cool. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night. You know where it is?”
“Everyone knows where it is,” he said. “It’s all the city is talking about. Lucky is back in town with her platinum album and her golden voice. You did it, girl. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, baby,” I told him.
“I’m serious. Your CD is hot. You did a good job.”
“It means a lot, coming from you. I guess all my hard work paid off.”
We sat there a second holding the phone until he cleared his throat.
“That was good tonight, wasn’t it?” He went ahead and brought up what we’d both been thinking about and pretending not to.
“Mmm-hmm. Better than good.”
“I can’t stop thinking about being inside of you,” he said. My pussy started to juice up again from his statement. The richness of his voice was always enough to get me going, and the mere thought of how we felt together made me horny. I was satisfied, but my sexual appetite wasn’t satiated. I needed to feel him, but in the meantime I’d feel myself.
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” I confessed. I slid my hand beneath my panties.
“I don’t want you to think that it’s just about sex with you and me. You know it isn’t like that,” he explained.
“I know,” I told him. But none of that mattered at that moment. The sex is what mattered to me.
“But the sex is so good,” he said.
“I agree,” I whispered.
More silence before he asked, “Are you thinking about it now? And are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
“Yes. You know me so well.” I wasn’t just thinking about it, and he knew it. As I lay there in my bed, my free hand was stroking my pubic hair and massaging the lips of my vagina.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about how thick your dick is, and how good it feels inside of me,” I told him.
“Mmm. And what are you doing?”
“I’m touching my clit. I wish you were here to do it for me. What are you doing, now that you know what I’m doing here?”
“I’ve got my dick in my hand.”
“Good. I want you to stroke it for me. I want you to remember how good my pussy felt this evening, how wet it was, how tight it was. Can you do that for me?”
“I’m doing it. I’m stroking it. And I’m pretending that my hand is your pussy. It feels so tight when I first stick it in. It feels so good that I want to come right then. But I could never be that selfish. I need to make you feel good too. And I need you to stick your fingers in your pussy and rub your clit with your thumb at the same time, the way I did to you earlier tonight. Imagine that I’m there.”
“Ooh, I’m doing it. You’re here with me, baby, and I’m so wet for you. You don’t know what you do to me, baby, you just don’t know.”
“I know, Songbird, I know,” he told me as I whimpered and moaned. “That’s right, girl, do it,” he encouraged me. “Take it there.”
I cut loose like I was all alone, my fingers exploring every part of me. I moaned and panted and grunted and squealed with delight. His sexy baritone voice encouraging me, telling me what to do.
“I want you to lick your fingers,” he told me. “Lick them like you licked mine tonight. I want to hear it,” he instructed, and I was an attentive and obedient student. I sucked the juices of my fingertips noisily and hungrily. I began to rub my clit again.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I told him.
“Come, girl, and keep on making yourself come. I know you can do it. I know that pussy. You know I know that pussy.”
He knew my pussy, all right. It was no problem for me to reach as many orgasms as I wanted, provided I had the right mental stimulation and the right stimulation of my G-spot. It was a gift he fully appreciated and took advantage of in the past. I shook and screamed as the first orgasm hit me.
“Work that spot, girl. You remember how I used to love to watch you masturbate? You were such a showoff. I used to get so hard, just looking at you. Remember how I used to stroke my dick in front of you while you made yourself come over and over?”
“I remember. You know I remember. Do you remember how much I used to love it when you came all over me? Do you remember—” I screamed as my second orgasm washed over me. I wondered if anyone could hear me; I have a naturally loud and powerful singing voice, and even when I don’t try, it carries pretty far. I kept on screaming, though. I didn’t care who heard me as long as my guy was getting an earful.
“I love to hear you moan, girl. Nobody but me knows the kind of music you can make. Sing for me, baby. One more, girl, make yourself come, girl, and I’m going to come with you,” he told me. That was all I needed to hear.
“I’m coming again, baby,” I told him. “I need you so bad. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you tomorrow.”
“I’m there, Songbird, I’m coming,” he told me. I heard him shout and could imagine the look on his face. For a moment I felt as if our souls met on some other plane, some parallel universe, because our connection was so strong. I felt him inside of me, inside my heart, my body, and my mind all at once as our heavy breathing carried across the telephone line.
“I guess I ought to let you get some rest,” he finally said.
“Yeah. I’ve got a big day ahead of me. But, uh, that was nice too,” I said.
He laughed, and I could tell he felt
just as silly as I did for having phone sex, but hell, we both enjoyed it, and we’d both sleep well and have pleasant dreams.
The next day, Spock was all I could think about. He didn’t call, but I didn’t really expect him to; we’d been on the phone half the night. And it wasn’t like I could have talked to him if he had because I was so busy getting ready for my special night. I did a couple of radio satellite interviews and an online Internet chat for my fans. I love doing stuff like that, so I was on a high. Leslie was on her BlackBerry nonstop, handling last minute details and cursing anyone out who didn’t meet her standards. I promised her I’d take her to the Turks and Caicos for a week when this was all over.
“Brazil, baby, you’ve got to take me to Brazil. You owe me big-time!” she said, and I agreed.
“We can go wherever you want. I need a vacation!” I told her.
“Well, maybe your boy Spock can take you somewhere romantic.”
“Nothing happened. We’re just friends, you know. We had a good time,” I lied.
“Yeah right,” Leslie said. She wasn’t buying it. I started giggling. I couldn’t help it.
“Okay, I fucked him,” I admitted. “And it was good.”
“You go, girl,” she said, giving me a high-five.
“But this was not supposed to happen,” I explained. “He hurt me. I was supposed tease him and leave him hanging.”
“But you needed to get laid.”
“Yeah, but now what?”
“I don’t know. That’s up to you guys.”
“I want some more dick. It’s like he’s all I can think about,” I admitted.
“Then get some more, girl! Who knows when you’ll get the chance again?”
“That’s just it. I think I kind of want to get back with him. You know, be a couple again, but I’m not sure.”
“Well, I can’t tell you what to do about that. Only the two of you know if that’s a chapter of your lives worth revisiting. But remember, no matter what happens with this guy, you’re fabulous,” Leslie said. I smiled and was going to say something, but her phone started ringing again and things shifted back to business.