The Man Handler

by Cairo

  “You always do, baby,” he states. I can hear his aching desire for me in his voice. And I know he will come here on a mission. To fuck me deep and slow and purposefully as he always does. Then he will flip me over onto my stomach and fuck me hard and fast. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” I say before hanging up.

  At six-thirty, I hear the alarm chirp alerting me the door has been opened. In less than two minutes, Garret struts into my bedroom in all of his nakedness, frisks me, squeezing my titties, tweaking my nipples, rubbing my pussy, grabbing and slapping my ass, before placing me under arrest. He reads me my rights, tells me, “You have the right to a stiff dick. You have the right to be fucked any way you want, for as long as you want. Anything you say or do will be the cause of me busting my nut in you. Do you understand?”

  I nod, “Ooh, yes, Officer. Are you gonna beat me with that big stick of yours?”

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he says, twirling me around. “And spread your legs apart.”

  I stick out my ass. Brush it up against his cock. He slaps me on the ass.

  “Keep still,” he snaps, “before I have to charge you with resisting arrest.”

  “Oooh, big daddy, charge me.”

  He yanks my hands in back of me, then loosely cuffs them behind my back. He throws me onto the bed, sucks all over my nipples, licks and sucks all over my pussy, then rolls me over on my stomach and nibbles and kisses on my ass. Then he pulls open my ass cheeks, slides his dick into my creamy pussy and fucks me so damn good that my twat twitches and throbs. He slaps me on the ass. This time it stings, but feels good as he is pounding inside of me. He slaps my ass again.

  “So you like breaking the law, huh?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Officer,” I say, moaning and winding my hips up and down on the mattress. “I’m a naughty, freak-nasty girl. What you gonna do about it?” He pulls his dick out of me, yanks me up off the bed, and slaps me on both ass cheeks. “Yeah, fucker, smack that fat ass.”

  “Oh, you like that shit, hunh? You like talking shit, hunh?”

  “Fuck me!” I beg, spreading my legs wider. “Slam your fuck-stick in me!”

  He bends me over, pushes my face down onto the dresser, then slides his dick into my piping hot pussy, fucking me from the back, slamming his honey-coated club in and out of me while his heavy balls slap up against my pussy.

  I let out a ferocious moan. And by the time Garrett finally releases me from his dick pounding custody, I have cum six times. Oooooh, he really put it on me!

  Mmmph. And now I’m lying here, basking in all of my bareness. I inhale. Savor the moment. I swear I love the smell of sex in the air. There’s nothing like the aroma of pussy, and sweat lingering around to remind you of how good you’ve been fucked. The taste of sex, the smell of sweet, musky fucking is all around me. Its scent hovers over me as I watch Garrett walk around the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. I exhale. There are still beads of water from his shower clinging to his strong back. I watch as he removes his towel and dries himself off. His dick slightly swings from side to side as he walks around the room. I close my legs, reliving how he fucked me deliciously. He glances at me, catches me staring at him. He smiles.

  “You know,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. “I’ve been thinking.” He pauses, gauging my reaction. I hold my breath, not liking the sound of this. I keep my eyes on him.

  “I’m listening,” I say.

  “I need to know where this is going.”

  “Where what is going?” I question, feigning stupidity. I rise up on my forearms.

  “This,” he says, gesturing with his hands. “You and me, this situation we got going on here.”

  “What’s wrong with what we have going on?”

  “Nothing,” he says, rubbing his chin, then running his hands over his neatly-trimmed face. “I mean everything. It’s been three years and it seems like you are okay with us being strictly fuck buddies, and—”

  “I am,” I say, cutting him off. “I’m very much satisfied with the way things are between us.”

  “Well, I’m not. I want more.”

  For some reason, I hear Wade’s voice; see his face, but it’s not him. It’s the exact same song, only a different performer. I purse my lips, think before I speak. The fact that we are having this discussion comes as no surprise to me. My gut was telling me something like this was about to go down between him and me. I hate how it may turn out. “Well, you can’t have more,” I huff. “You knew the rules going into this, so don’t go trying to change them up now. This thing we have works.”

  “This works for who? You? Well, it definitely isn’t working for me, anymore. I don’t want to just be some side dick you call on.”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “Garrett, sorry to disappoint you, but I would rather we keep things the way they are. There’s no need to try to make shit complicated.”

  “Babe,” he says, caressing the side of my face. He leans and plants a soft kiss on my lips. And strangely, I don’t pull back. “It doesn’t have to be complicated unless you try to make it that way. I enjoy you, and you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way. So I think it’s time we try to take this to another level and see where it goes.”

  “Another level?” I ask indignantly. “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

  He stares at me. “To get to know you outside of the bedroom,” he says. “To get to know you with your clothes on, if that’s alright with you. Do you realize we’ve never gone out in public? Why is that? I would like to at least take you out to a movie, to a Broadway show, or something.”

  “Going out turns into dating; dating turns into relationships. And I’m not interested in dating, and I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Correction,” he says, “going out turns into two people getting better acquainted. Dating simply offers the opportunity to spend quality time with someone you enjoy being around. And if it turns into a relationship, then cool. If not, at least we enjoyed each other’s company. I think there’s so much more outside of fucking that we can offer each other.”

  Great, I think, taking a deep breath. First Wade, now his ass! What the fuck?!

  “What’s the harm in wanting to get to know you better? Everything doesn’t have to be about sex between us. There are times I would rather hold you in my arms, and watch a movie with you.” He gets up and paces the floor, then stops in his tracks. He locks his eyes on me as if he’s had an epiphany. He sits back down next to me on the edge of the bed. “Bianca, baby, you gonna need to make a decision.”

  I blink, blink again. I can feel myself about to tell him to go to hell with this bullshit. But, I will myself to stay calm. In my head, I can see me telling him there is no decision to make; telling him to get the fuck out of my face, out of my house, with this shit. The words form on the tip of my tongue, but none come out in the way I think them. And that baffles me.

  “Garrett, I think you should go ’cause I’m not interested in having this conversation with you. Not now, not ever. What you’ve been getting, is what you get. So, don’t start looking for more than what I’m willing to give.”

  He frowns, studies me. Squints his eyes, then gets up from the bed. “Yeah,” he says, removing his towel from around his body. “I think you’re right. I’d better get going. I’ll call you one day next week.”

  “That’s on you,” I say, flopping back on the bed and pulling the covers up over me. “Lock the door on your way out.” Men, I think, rolling my eyes up at the ceiling.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Idon’t care how hard I try to manage my time, there never seem to be enough hours on the weekends to relax before it’s time to drag back up in this piece. It always seems like the weekends fly by, but then comes the work week and the shit is dragging. It’s bad enough that, on top of the fact that I don’t feel like being here today, I’m worn out from getting slayed Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I don’t know abou
t you, but for me, a good fucking can be so exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. And right about now, I’m both. Three days of back to back fucking is enough to hold me over for a few days, hell, maybe even a week.

  Now contrary to what you may think, I don’t fuck every day of the week. However, if I do feel like getting my fuck on, that’s what I do. Then the following week, I simply chill, and suck a dick or two while my pussy rests, which is exactly what I plan to do this week.

  Also, just so you know, if I’m not fucking on any given day, I might only have a dude who likes—no scratch that, loves—to eat pussy to come through and pet this sweet kitty with his tongue. This cuts down on the wear and tear, and keeps my pussy from looking like it’s been turned inside out. And if it’s really urgent that I feel the thrust of a dick, I’ll let him screw me in the ass. Please. Like I already told you, there’s no shame in my game. I have three holes, and I intend to use them all. So, think what you want, but I will not be denied!

  Anyway, I’m sitting at my desk engrossed in my work, typing a monthly report, when Nahdirah knocks on my office door, and pops her head in. “Hey, girl, you busy?” she asks, scanning the room with her eyes.

  “No, not really,” I say, looking up at her. “What’s up?” She walks in, closing the door behind her, then plops down in the leather chair in front of my desk. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, either it is, or it isn’t.”

  “You know I’m starting to see why you stay to yourself here.”

  Humph, I think, propping my elbows up on my desk, and clasping my hands under my chin. Somebody must have been talking about her, again. “And what makes you say that?” I ask, knowingly.

  “Girl, I’m really starting to see what you mean about some of these chicks here.” I raise my brow and give her a look to get to the damn point. She gets the hint. “Saturday night I went out for drinks with Cheryl, Robin and Rachel down in the mailroom…”

  Before she even says anything else, I already know that this has something to do with a man ’cause all three of them bitches she was out with are certified man eaters. So, I am so not interested in hearing this shit. Not today. But I allow her to bore me to death with her drama, anyway. She goes on to tell me how much of a good time she was having with these raggedy hoes until Robin has one drink too many and starts dropping hints about Rachel having slept with her man, Jake, then made some comment about how she had to have a tilted uterus to handle his curved dick. She says that’s when it turned ugly.

  I roll my eyes, but she is oblivious to my disgust.

  “…So I asked her flat out how the hell she knew his dick was curved, and if she had been with him. She waved me off, talking ’bout ‘I’m not the one you should be asking’, then slapped her hand up over her mouth, looking over at Rachel, who looked like a bitch with a handful of cookies in her mouth…”

  I keep my elbows planted on my desk, cupping either side of my face in the palms of my hands. I stare at her as she speaks, then subconsciously drum my fingers along the sides of my face. I find myself daydreaming about sucking some dick. And somehow the thought makes me remember back two years ago when I was at the Mall at Short Hills and bumped into this sexy, brown-skinned dude as I was coming out of the Verizon store. Dude had a shaved head, a mustache and goatee, and muscles for days. Yes, I gave him the once-over. Sure did. And didn’t care how obvious I made it. He got the hint and started trying to get his mack on. We walked over toward the chairs in front of Bloomingdales and talked.

  Now, I’m not exactly sure how the topic of sex came up—well actually, I do. It was right after he asked me what I liked to get in to, and I told him, “Sucking dick.” Dude (and for the life of me, I can’t remember his name) asked me what it was about dick sucking that I enjoyed the most. I had to think about it for a minute. Then I answered.

  “The one thing I enjoy most about sucking dick is the fact that I am in total control of how good I make a man feel. I can lick, flick, nibble, suckle, slob, gobble, jerk, and swallow the dick. Massage his balls with my tongue, mouth and hands. Make him pant with anticipation. Bring him to the edge of ecstasy, then either push him all the way over or pull him back all in one stroke. Every time I take a man’s dick in my mouth, I literally have him by the balls. And that to me is power.”

  Then he asked me what thoughts ran through my mind when I was sucking dick. I told him, “When I’m sucking dick, I’m thinking about my throat being my pussy, wet, warm and tight around a man’s cock. My only focus is doing whatever it takes to get him off. I like to be face-fucked. And I like for a man to cum as many times as he likes.”

  By the time I was done talking, dude was licking his lips, drooling. Said I had him wanting his dick in my mouth right then. I looked down at the bulge in his pants, and smiled. Yes, I knew I had his undivided attention. So, me, being who I am, decided to take it a step further. I asked him who he was out there with. When he said he was by himself, I asked him what he was driving.

  He said, “An Escalade.”

  I leaned in, lowered my voice real sexy-like, and asked, “You ever had your dick sucked in a mall parking garage?”

  He looked around, then grinned. “No. Can’t say that I have.”

  I smiled. He smiled. I gazed down in his lap, licked my lips and told him I felt like sucking some cock. I could tell I shocked him. He leaned back in the leather seat, opened and closed his muscular legs, probably to pinch the throbbing in his crotch.

  I gestured for him to come closer with my index finger, then leaned in his ear and whispered, “Let me wrap my hot mouth and wet tongue all over your fat cock. It is fat, right?”

  I wanted some dick, but not one that didn’t have any meat on its bone. Like I said before, I’m not a size ho, but if I’m going to suck a dick I don’t want to have to do it through a straw. I was relieved when he said it was nice and thick. “Let’s go sit in your truck.”

  “For what?” he asked, trying to act like he didn’t know what was up.

  “So I can suck down your dick and lick your balls,” I said.

  He nervously looked around to make sure I was talking to him. I hate when men do that shit. It’s all good when they come at a woman, but when the tables are flipped, most of ’em seem to clam up, and start getting all nervous and shit. Why is that?

  Anyway, he said, “Sure, why not?”

  And of course, I made sure to ask how long his dick was, and if it was cut. When he said it was eight inches and cut, I told him to lead the way to his truck so I could spin his top.

  As soon we got inside his truck, I told him to pull it out. Even soft, it was nice and meaty. My mouth drooled as he stroked it. I pulled out my ruler, measured it. Confirmed his exact inches, then rolled a cherry flavored condom over his dick, and sucked him and licked all over his smooth balls until he popped his nut. I wanted so bad to suck his thick dick raw, but knew that was not an option. And neither was seeing him again.

  I bring my attention back to Nahdirah. And she is still rambling on about nothing.

  “…I can’t believe that bitch was implying that Rachel slept with Jake.”

  “Well, did she deny it?” I ask, not really caring either way.

  “Well, no. Not really. But…” she says, pausing.

  I sigh, getting annoyed. “But what?”

  “I asked Jake about it, and he didn’t deny it either.”

  Because he fucked her ass, you dizzy bitch! I scream in my head.

  “Well, did he admit it?” I ask.

  “No, he said she was fucking crazy.”

  Of course he did, my mind snaps. That’s what they all say.

  “Okay,” I say, gesturing with my hand for her to hurry the hell up and finish this boring-ass story. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is my gut tells me that they did sleep together. And I said something to Cheryl about it this morning and she shifted her eyes like she knew something, then told me to leave it a
lone.”

  I glance at my watch. “Listen. Do you think you can speed this up? I have a lot to do today.”

  “Geesh,” she says, acting offended, “who got your panties all in a bunch today?” She folds her arms tightly across her chest, sitting back in her seat.

  “No one,” I snap. “I’m not in the mood for any of this ghetto-trash drama. And anything that has to do with any of these chicks here is exactly that. I could not care less about which ho in this building slept with your man. I told you from gate to stop telling these f-ing trollops your damn business, but you keep yapping your jaws.”

  “The only person I tell anything to besides you is Cheryl, and she’s never given me a reason not to trust her.”

  I laugh at her stupidity. “Are you serious?! She’s the main one who grins up in your face, then talks about you, and laughs at you behind your back.”

  “Well, I can’t say if that’s true or not since nothing’s ever gotten back to me.”

  I shake my head. “Bless your heart. You need to buy a vowel and get a clue, for real. But hey, it’s your life, not mine. Humph. I don’t know why you have to hang around them birds, anyway. But you do. So I have to wonder about you as well.”

  She raises her eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  There’s a part of me that likes this chick; but, like I told you before, she could never be any friend of mine. “It means birds of a feather tend to flock together. So, if you’re not one of ’em, but choose to hang around ’em, then stupid is what stupid does. And you get what you get. I told you before about fucking with these chicks here. But you keep on grinning up in their faces. So, truthfully, I don’t want to hear nothing about what they said, or did, or felt. Now, unless you have something else constructive to talk about, kindly remove yourself from my office, and take this foolishness somewhere else.”