Man Swappers

by Cairo

  “Yeah, I said it. But, damn...”

  “Look, if you’re having second thoughts, then maybe we should stop now before things get too serious.”

  “Is that what you want?” he asks, sounding frustrated. Truth is, I don’t know what I want. The more time I spend with Emerson, the more attracted I am to him. He’s a damn good man. Yeah, and he’s fucked my sisters and me. “Look,” he says, not waiting for me to answer the question. “I wanna spend time with you out and about during the day. Not holed up in a hotel or my spot, ordering take out all the time. And not at night. You’re a beautiful woman. And I wanna do things with you. Go out. Take day trips into the city, or weekend drives down to the Baltimore Harbor. I wanna chill with you. Damn, is that too much to ask?”

  “No,” I state, turning into my development.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m not ready. I’m still trying to figure things out. Still trying to come to terms with potentially getting involved with a man I’ve shared with my sisters.”

  “I told you, I’m cool with it. I mean, it’s nothing we can do about it now. It happened. If you’re worried that I might wanna get it in with ’em again, don’t be. The only woman I’m interested in is you.”

  I pull into my driveway and park behind Persia’s car, turning my engine off. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “Then what is it? Persia? You think she’s gonna be pissed that you’re giving into your own feelings for a change, and doing something you want to do for yourself?”

  I frown. “How dare you? I’ll have you know, I run my own life. Persia doesn’t control shit, I do.” But she tries, I think, looking up at the second floor of our home. Persia’s curtain moves. She’s stepped away from the window. “I’m my own woman. The fact is, Em, I’m not ready; period. Now if that’s too much for you to deal with, then let’s end this now.” I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he knows I’m concerned about how Persia’s going to react to the news that has me so pissed at him right now, or if it’s the fact that I am letting her control aspects of my life, indirectly.

  “C’mon, Porsha, let’s not do this. I don’t wanna turn this into a fight. All I’m sayin’ is sometimes you gotta take some risks. I know what I want. I just want you to know what it is you want, too. All I’m askin’ is for you to give us a chance. That’s all.”

  I glance back up at Persia’s bedroom window. I see her shadow again. I sigh. “I don’t wanna fight with you, either.”

  “Cool. I tell you what. How ’bout we do this: I have a timeshare I need to use the last week in June. How about you fly out to Curacao with me? Let’s spend the week together. And see how things go. If you’re still not sure about what you wanna do, I’ll bow out gracefully and let you do you.”

  “Em—”

  “Before you say no, think about it. In the meantime, I wanna see you tonight. Sounds like you could use a nice, relaxing, full-body massage. Come through and let my hands make love to your body.”

  I smile. “I’ll be there at eight.”

  “Aiight, see you then.”

  I disconnect the call, then step out of the car, shutting the door behind me. I activate the alarm, making my way inside the house. As soon as I reach for the handle, the door swings open.

  “Girl, I didn’t know what was going on. You were sitting out in that car for a long-ass time. Is everything alright? I thought I was going to have to call nine-one-one.”

  Persia steps back, lets me in. “Everything’s fine. I was finishing up a phone call.”

  “Well,” she says, following me up the stairs. “It must’ve been some call for you to stay out in the car all that time.”

  “It was,” I say, walking into my bedroom, then stepping out of my sneakers.

  I feel her eyes burning a hole through me. I turn to face her. Tilt my head. “What?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

  “Nope,” I tell her, removing my workout gear. I walk into my bathroom—naked, turn on the shower, adjust the setting, then step in.

  “Well, how was your run?” she asks, walking into the bathroom, leaning up against the sink.

  What are you afraid of? Persia? “It was good.”

  “You sure everything’s okay? You seem kind of distant.”

  Sometimes you gotta take risks. “Everything’s fine. I’m tired. That run wore me out. I’m going to take a long nap when I get finished in here.” You’re a beautiful woman...I know what I want... I toss my head back, let the water beat against my face and neck. Pretend Persia is no longer leaning up against the sink, staring at me. I close my eyes. Let my hands make love to your body...

  When I’m finished with my shower, I step out into my room, wrapping a towel around me. Persia’s lying across my bed, waiting. “You wanna order in later? Or go out and grab something to eat?”

  I fish my phone out of my bag. “Ummm, not tonight.” I text: I’LL BE THERE @ 6

  “I have plans,” I tell her, slipping on a pair of silk boxer shorts. I let my titties bounce free, pull back my comforter, slipping in between my 1500-count Egyptian cotton sheets.

  I fake a yawn. Right now, I want to be alone. All I’m askin’ is for you to give us a chance.

  “Okay, girl. Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” Persia says, getting off my bed and walking toward the door. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay,” I say, pulling the covers up over my head. The only woman I’m interested in is you. I close my eyes, drifting off to sleep.

  Passion

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Emerson pulls his dick out of my smoldering cunt, slaps my clit with it, then slowly slides it back in—deep. He thrusts a few times, grinds his pelvis against mine, then pulls out again, beating his dick against my clit and slit. I moan. Hoist my hips up in an exchange, my pussy for his dick. He taunts me. Slips the head back in, slowly whines it in. Tip fucks me, then pulls it out. He has my hands pinned back on the bed. I jut my hips upward.

  “Damn, baby…you’re so beautiful…” He stares into my eyes. His intense gaze penetrates my soul. He looks into me, raw and naked and vulnerable. He plants gentle kisses all over me—the tip of my nose, my eyelids, my chin, my neck, my breasts. His kisses go on and on, covering every inch of my flesh. “You’re so damn beautiful, baby,” he says, again, pushing his dick back into my well. I gasp. He slow fucks me for another ten minutes, while tonguing me. Gets my pussy swish-swishing; my juices splattering against his cock, then abandons my mouth. His tongue travels along my skin, flicks along the side of my neck. He kisses my collarbone. His hands cup my ass as he loses his dick inside of me. Tendrils of arousal gather in the pit of my pussy, then burst into colorful orgasms, coiling around my clitoris. I don’t know how much more of this man I can take before I fall for him, hard.

  “I want you so fuckin’ bad, baby…I wanna get lost in this pussy…I wanna own this pussy…” His dick hits my spot and I feel lightheaded.

  “Mmmm…oooooooooooh…”

  “Open up, baby…let me in…” He hits the bottom of my abyss. “Give me all of this good pussy…give me all of your heart…” His dick swells, brushes against my walls, causing my muscles to constrict and expand. I moan again. “Let me in, baby…Ohh, shit, you feel so good…Let me have you, Porsh…”

  “Uhhh…you have me,” I say soft and sweet. Not sure if what’s come out of my mouth is said in the heat of the moment, or if it’s what I mean. He hits my spot again. My eyes roll in the back of my head. “Ohhhhh, Em…mmmm…what are you tryna do to me?”

  “Make love to you,” he whispers, slipping his tongue in my ear, then nibbling on my lobe again. I shiver. Yet we are in front of his fireplace, sweating and panting. The glow from the fire, its flames dancing about the room, adds to the intense heat emitted between my legs. “I could make love to you forever…I love you, Porsh…”

  It is in those three words that my emotions collide. Fear, excitement, lust, and desire a
ll connect, then explode into petals of joy. In my heart, I believe, I feel, I know, Emerson is a good man. He’s a man worth loving, and being loved by. Still, we say things in the moment. Things we don’t always mean. I won’t, can’t allow words spoken but not meant, to have value in my life.

  I close my eyes, block out the echoing of his words. My eyes snap open when he pulls his dick out of my pussy, leaving it yearning for it back inside of me, deep and thick and full of power. I plead with my eyes. Beg for him to put his dick back where it belongs. He ignores my pleas. Kisses down to my stomach, dips his tongue into my navel, then slides it along my clit. I squirm and wiggle as he eats my pussy, lapping up my hot juices that spurt out onto his tongue. He mounts his mouth over my clit, dipping his tongue into my wetness, rapidly nursing on my clit until I start to shake and buck my hips.

  I’m spent. But that doesn’t stop him from entering my cum-slick pussy and hitting my bottom all over again. “Ohhhh, shiiiit… you feel you so good, baby…”

  “Oooooooh, Em…it’s your dick, baby…it’s all you, making me feel good…”

  He kisses me. Tells me he loves again. I choke back tears.

  We become silent, staring into each other’s eyes as he strokes my insides. The crackling of the fire becomes the music that guides our rhythm.

  “How do you know?” I finally whisper against his lips in between kisses. He keeps his gaze locked on mine, kisses me deeply enough to leave no doubt that what he feels is real; that he is more than sure.

  Paris

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I pull back the sheets and stare at Desmond’s naked body as he sleeps. My eyes hungrily rove every inch of his sculpted physique, causing my mouth to water. I’m so turned on by the sight of him that I can barely contain my desire to fuck him all over again. My pussy aches, still wet from the last three rounds. But it’s hungry for more of him. I scoot down some, then take Desmond’s dick in my hand and gently stroke it, placing gentle kisses all over it before licking its head like an ice cream cone. I roll his beautiful dick between my palms, slowly gliding my hands up and down his shaft. I love this strong black dick. Love the way it tastes; the way it feels. Love the way its vein throbs when it’s aroused; the way its eye leaks clear, sticky nectar whenever it’s excited. He doesn’t have as much dick as I envisioned he would with his height and all. But, it’s not a disappointment in the least. The man knows how to use what he has. And that’s all that matters to me. It’s about six-and-three-quarter inches of dark chocolate, brick-hard and thick cock. Damn, did he work this pussy over!

  He stirs, but doesn’t awake until I am rapidly sucking his hard dick. “Aaah, shit,” he moans, opening his eyes. “Damn, baby, you tryna suck the life outta a muhfucka.”

  I pull his dick out of my mouth long enough to ask, “You got a problem with that?” I wrap my lips back around the head and continue sucking before he can respond.

  He laughs. “Hell no, baby. Do you. You got a muhfucka trippin’ hard right now.”

  I smile. And for the next fifteen minutes, I suck and slurp until he’s grabbing at the sheets and bucking his hips, nutting down in my throat. I lick him clean, then flop back on the bed beside him. He attempts to steady his breathing, pulling me into his arms. He kisses me on the side of my head. “Damn, you really gotta muhfucka feeling some kinda way; got me all off my square. I’m really diggin’ you, ma. I wanna really get to know you. You know, spend some time with you.…”

  I lay my head on his chest, playing in the patch of hair in the center of his chest. My hand glides over to his nipple, slowly swirl the tips of my fingers over it until it hardens. I am half-listening to him talk, half-listening to his beating heart.

  “…no pressure, though.…”

  The voice inside of my head is telling me to get up and put my clothes on; to tell him getting to know me isn’t an option, then walk out the door and never look back.

  But he’s so damn fine.

  And you’re into foursomes with your sisters.

  He doesn’t have to ever know about that part of your life.

  But he will! It’s only a matter of time.

  Then tell him before he hears it from someone else.

  He wouldn’t understand.

  Then let this be the last time you fuck him.

  I’m only having fun with him, so he doesn’t need to know.

  My gut tells me to roll out of his arms. Instead, I lie still. Stay wrapped in his embrace. His muscular body feels so good pressed up against mine. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, deciding that at this very moment, this is where I want to be.

  Two hours later I awaken to Desmond watching me. He smiles at me, then kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Yo, anyone ever tell you how mad sexy you are when you sleep?”

  I smile back at him, shaking my head. “No, this is the first time I’m hearing it. Thank you.”

  “No doubt. So what you wanna do the rest of the day?”

  I glance over at the digital clock. It reads: 4:18 P.M. I still can’t believe that on my day off I snuck down to Atlantic City and have been laid up in a suite at the Borgata with this man since last night. Against my will, I find myself slowly liking him. Find myself thinking about the possibilities of a relationship; maybe not with him, but the idea of having someone special in my life surfaces. Yet, the thought of giving up what my sisters and I share…I sigh. A part of me is okay with giving it up all up for a more traditional life. Then there’s that other part of me—the kinky side, that looks forward to sharing every part of a man with my sisters. I enjoy the sexapades. Enjoy the randomness of it all. Then why the hell are you here?

  I don’t know.

  Bitch, your ass is confused.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him, shifting my attention back to him. “Maybe go downstairs and try to gamble a bit since I don’t know the first thing about gambling. Then grab something to eat. I’m in the mood for sushi.”

  He grins. “Stick with me, baby. I’ll teach you.”

  I smile. “Oh, is that so?”

  “No doubt,” he says, kissing me on the tip of my nose. “So you dig sushi?”

  “Yup, love it,” I say, stretching.

  “Oh, word? That’s my shit, too. And they have a Japanese spot downstairs. My man told me it’s bangin’.”

  I smile. “Sounds good to me. I can eat sushi every day.”

  “Oh word?” he says, eyeing me. He kisses me on the lips, pulling back the covers. “So what else can you eat every day?”

  “I’m not telling you all of my secrets,” I say, licking my lips, glancing under the covers at his cock. I climb out of bed. “A girl has to keep some things to herself.”

  He laughs, watching as I walk over to the dresser, my bare ass shaking and bouncing. “Yeah, aiight. Damn, you gotta beautiful ass.”

  “Glad you like it.” I pull my phone out of my handbag. I have four text messages. One from Porsha telling me Irwin’s going to be in town this weekend.

  “Like it? Yo, I love it! You got one of those nice ol’ juicy-biscuit booties.” I glance over at Desmond, laughing.

  “Ohmygod, hilarious.”

  “Nah, baby. I’m serious. You sexy as fuck.”

  “You’re full of compliments,” I say, scrolling through my phone. There’s a text from Felecia inviting us to Pasha’s bachelorette party the night before her wedding. And there’s one text from Persia, wanting to know if I want to order in. “What are you trying to get, some more pussy?”

  He laughs. “Nah, I’m tryna get up in your heart.” I drop my phone, coughing. “Yo, you aiight?”

  “Yeah,” I say, patting my chest. “You kind of caught me off-guard with that.”

  “Yo, don’t choke, baby. I’m keepin’ shit real. I wanna snatch you up. That’s real talk.”

  I pick up my cell from off the floor. I’m not going to be able to keep this up much longer. At some point, I’ll need to make a decision. I’ll either need to tell him about my man-sharing escapades or end
this rendezvous before it turns into something complicated. Right now, I’m not going to worry about it. “Well, how about we live in the moment and simply enjoy each other’s company. Whatever else happens…happens.”

  “Aiight. That’s wassup. So since you wanna be in the moment, put that phone down and come back to bed. I wanna hold you in my arms.”

  I smile. “Give me a sec. I need to let my sisters know where I’m at.” I text Persia, let her know I won’t be coming home, then shut off my phone and toss it back in my bag. “There,” I say, walking back over to him. He pulls back the covers as I climb into bed. “I’m all yours.”

  He pulls me into my arms. “Aaaah, yeah. That’s what I wanna hear.”

  Seven o’clock, we’re downstairs seated at Izakaya. The ambiance is sensual. The décor contemporary. I’ve ordered a shrimp, lobster, crab and scallop dish with a side of charred Japanese broccoli, and one baby dragon roll. Desmond’s ordered Japanese sea bass and a spicy tuna roll. He orders a two-hundred-and-twenty-dollar bottle of sake.

  “So when you gonna hit me with them digits?” he asks, taking a slow sip of his drink.

  I sweep my bang across my forehead, smiling. “When I’m ready for you to snatch me up. In the meantime, you know how to reach me. And you know where to find me. So there’s no need for you to have any other numbers. Not yet, anyway.”

  He grins. “Oh, aiiight. That’s how you doin’ me?”

  I eye him over the rim of my ceramic cup. “For now.”

  “I see your work. I got you, though. It’s all good. I’ma just keep comin’ down to ya spot until you give in.”

  I smile, raising my eyebrow. “Hmmm, sounds kind of stalkerish to me. Don’t have me call the cops on you.”

  He laughs. “Oh, here you go with that again. You stay tryna call the police on a muhfucka. What’s gonna be my crime this time?”

  “I don’t know” I say, teasingly. “I’ll think up something real creative.”

  “Yeah, aiight. You do that. I’ll be bailed out before the ink dries, and right back at ya spot. Now what? You not shakin’ me that easy, ma. I already told you what it is.”