by Cairo
“That’s real shit. Likewise, playboy.” I step back from him, abruptly moving around to the other side of my desk and pulling my executive chair out, taking a seat.
I shuffle some papers around on my desk. “Make sure you have your manager holla at me.”
“True indeed,” he says, heading toward the door. “Let’s hit the courts one day next week so I can mop the floor with you.”
I laugh. “Yeah, aiight. Never that. You know you can’t see me, fam. I’ll bust yo’ ass, pretty boy.”
“Aaaah, shit. Is that a threat?”
I smirk. “Take it however you want, playa.”
“Oh, aiight. I got you. I’ma take it to the hoop, bruh. Believe that.” He hits me with deuces and I eye him as he makes his way to the door, shaking my head.
When the door finally closes behind him, I take in a deep breath, then slowly blow it out, before getting up and locking my door, then walking back over to my desk and unloosening my Ferragamo belt buckle. I’m horny as fuck. I unzip my pants, then slide my hand into the slit of my designer drawz, snaking out my semi-hard dick.
I squeeze the head of my dick a few times, then push back in my seat and grab the base of my shaft. My mouth waters as I lean forward and stretch myself down into my lap, sucking the head of my dick into the warmth of my mouth.
Yeah, I’m a self-sucker. And, nah, I don’t see anything gay about that shit. It’s my dick. I’m not sucking another niggah’s dick. I’m sucking my own. It’s no different than jerking it, or playing with it. It’s my shit. And it’s me pleasuring myself. Only difference is, a muhfucka’s using his mouth to add to the sensation. So fuck what ya heard. If I feel like I wanna wet my own dick, that’s what I do.
On some real, I learned I was able to suck my own shit by mishap and curiosity when I was like thirteen, during one of my many horny nights of beating my dick in the bathroom. I leaned in to spit down on the head of my dick and realized that I was flexible enough—and my dick was long enough—for me to lick it. So I did. And liked it. But I kept that shit on the low because for some reason, as good as that shit felt, it didn’t seem right. And I’d never heard of muhfuckas sucking or licking their own shit. And if they did, they damn sure weren’t hanging around the hood or on the courts talking about it.
So licking my dick became my own lil’ dirty secret.
And even though I was getting pussy, I still masturbated and locked myself in the bathroom and licked my dick. Then the more raw pussy I started getting, the stronger my urges to taste their juices on my dick got. So I’d finish smashing, then hop up from the bed with my wet, sticky dick swinging and lock myself in the bathroom to suck the cream off my cock. I’d be fucking some chick and the whole time I’d be thinking how I couldn’t wait to taste her on my dick. So licking my shit quickly evolved into me sucking it.
Flashes of Marika’s fat, wet pussy with my nut flooding out of it click in my head. I lick my lips as if I’m licking her cum-soaked cunt, groaning low. I spit on the head of my dick, stroking my thick shaft and sensually massaging my full, round balls before squeezing them. A mix of spit and precum coat my dick, becoming slippery lube to my shaft. The fire roaring inside of me is trapped, confined behind thick layers of muscle and skin.
“Aah, shiiit, baby…mmm …”
I lean forward and suck the head of my dick, bobbing my head up and down my shit. Horny. I need release. Need to empty this heavy sac. I suck myself to the edge.
Bowing at the crown of my dick, worshipping it, pumping it into my mouth, all the way to my tonsils. “Aaaah…”
Here it comes. Here it comes…
I toss my head back, shut my eyes tight, bite into my bottom lip and buck as bolts of hot nut shoot, spurt, then splatter outta my dick.
SIX
Marcel
“Ooh, baby. Guess who came to see me today looking every bit of delicious today?” Marika says, walking outta her walk-in closet. I stare and lick my lips. She’s wearing only a pair of red silk panties and high-heel red bottoms.
My dick stirs in my drawz.
“Who?” I ask as if I don’t already know.
“Carlos.”
I grin. “Oh, word? And he was looking delicious, huh?”
She laughs. “Yes, every bit of…with a capital-D. That man is too fine for his own good.” She holds up a cobalt-blue strapless dress in front of her. Then tosses it onto our bed. I eye the growing pile of dresses and purses, shaking my head.
She looks at me feigning innocence. “What?”
“Seriously, babe? More clothes? Why are you packing all this shit, when you have a ton of things at the crib in L.A.? I thought I said to pack light. Translation: only pack ya purse.”
She rolls her eyes. “I am packing light. These are a few things I want to leave out there; that’s it. Besides, a woman can never have enough options.”
“Well, how about leaving all that shit here as option one?”
She ignores me and walks back into her dressing room, then comes out with a lil’ skirt set. She looks over at me, and smiles, tossing the ensemble onto the bed.
I sigh, glancing at the time. It’s a quarter to six. “We’re only gonna be out there for the weekend. Damn. And you’re still gonna wanna buy shit while we’re there.”
She walks over and plants a kiss on my lips. “You know me so well.” I grab a chunk of ass, then bounce her ass cheek in the palm of my hand. “With this phat, juicy ass.” I slap it.
She playfully swats my hand away and struts back across the room. She reaches for the chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio sitting in a stainless steel bucket of ice. Then pours some into her half-empty glass and lowers the bottle back into the bucket.
She takes a sip. “You should have seen the tramps in the office today fawning over Carlos and trying to get his attention. That man knows he can stop traffic.”
I watch as her ass shakes back into her closet.
I smirk. “Yo, why you sounding like you wanna fuck him?”
She turns to look at me. A smile plastered on her lips, she tilts her head and places a hand up on her hip. “Don’t you?”
If muhfuckas knew how I got down, they’d be popping a buncha shit and the paparazzi would have a muthafuckin’ field day. Though I don’t give a fuck what another muhfucka thinks, I’m not beat for the judgment, or the prying eyes. Openly admitting, being a bisexual cat isn’t a good look for a muhfucka like me doing what I do in the entertainment industry. Yet, muhfuckas would clap and drool and wave a flag of approval for Marika, wanting to fuck her six ways to Sunday, knowing she’s into chicks. But, society still ain’t ready for a muhfucka like me getting off on rocking with another niggah. And I ain’t ready to make it public knowledge. My sexuality, Marika’s sexuality, and how we get down in the bedroom isn’t any-muthafuckin’-body’s business.
And it isn’t up for discussion.
I’m a man, first. A husband, second.
A sexual muhfucka, third.
And sex isn’t a guilty pleasure. Not for me, and definitely not for Marika. Nah. Sexual satisfaction is our right. We require it. We expect it. And we ensure it.
And beneath the sheets, behind closed doors, we get it in with one mission in mind: to please each other. To indulge each other, be it with chicks or other dudes. Together. Period. There are no secrets between us. We both like what we like. And we both love making sure the other gets it.
And, nah, I’m not about to go into some long, drawn-out history-sharing story on the hows and whys. All I’ma say is this: My first experience with another cat was back in high school, the summer of my sophomore year. I was fifteen. And stayed horny as fuck. My dick stayed hard. And back then I woulda fucked a cross-eyed, one-armed, legless ho with no teeth on the low if her pussy was clean and I could get away with it.
But this particular summer, it was another muhfucka’s mouth I splashed my nut in.
G-Money. A cat I used to smoke weed and chill with from around the way. He was going into his junior year. S
ix-three. Star point guard for Boys and Girls High.
Dude had a hot-ass girl on the cheerleading squad and a buncha other bad-ass bitches from around the way who stayed giving him pussy. But the muhfucka stayed eyeing me all crazy on the sly. At first I thought it was because he knew I was fucking his girl on the low. But since he never came at me about it, I just let it go. As far as I was concerned we were still cool.
Then one night, I’m at his crib, chilling. We’re both kicked back smoking weed and watching some white bitch sucking two muhfuckas off at the same time. The more bud I smoked, the hornier I got. My dick started bricking up watching Becky hold both of their dicks in her hand, rubbing them together, then sliding her mouth back and forth over both heads. The shit had me on rock. And ready to crawl up inside some pussy. But I was high as fuck. And all the hoes were stuntin’ on the pussy that night. So I just chilled and smoked and watched the porn flick. Without much thought I slid my hand down inside my basketball shorts and started playing with my shit on the low.
Then out of nowhere this muhfucka gets up and locks his bedroom door, then pulls out his dick and sits down next to me on his bed and starts jacking his shit right in front of me. Real shit, I’m not gonna front. That shit turned me on. I licked my lips and eyed him while stroking my own shit in my shorts.
“Damn, son,” he said real low. “Pull that dick out ‘n’ let me see you jerk that shit.”
“Man, get the fuck outta here with that gay shit, niggah.”
“Niggah, ain’t shit gay ’bout two niggahs jacking dicks together watchin’ a bitch suck dick. Pull that shit out so I can get this nut, niggah.” Hesitantly, I raised my hips up and pulled my shorts and boxers down. “Damn, niggah, you gotta big-ass dick.”
I smirked, stroked my shit and within seconds I bust. But what fucked me up is when he leaned over in my lap and slurped up my nut, licked all around my balls, then took the head of my dick into his mouth. And swallowed me. That shit had my head spinning. And I nutted again. Then when he was done cleaning my dick, he sparked another L, took two deep pulls, then passed it to me.
“Yo, this shit stays between us, feel me?” he said, blowing a thick cloud of smoke up into the air. “I don’t need this shit gettin’ out.”
“True,” is all I said, closing my eyes and letting the chronic fill my lungs. From that moment on, every chance G-Money and I got, we got lifted, watched porn, and jacked off, then I’d let him finish me off, sucking my nut out. We even fucked a few broads together that summer, then did our thing after they left. We kicked it real heavy every chance we got. Then the school year came around. I went back to my world and he went back to his.
But that summer stayed stamped in my brain. From his hot mouth on my dick to his wet tongue on my balls to him swallowing my hot loads. Yeah, I already knew what it was like having my own mouth on my shit. And I dug that shit. But G-Money sucking my dick caused electrical sparks to surge through my whole body. Real shit, I never forgot that feeling. And no matter how many chicks sucked my shit, none of ’em ever compared to the sensations that shot through my body and made my toes curl every time he wrapped his mouth around the head of my dick.
And for the next two years, he kept sucking my dick. And I kept fucking his girl.
I swallow, bringing my attention to Marika. “Nah, I’m good on that.” I tell her about his visit to my office and how I ended up busting my nut right after he dipped.
“Ooh, you nasty-ass! So you do want to fuck him.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Nah, nah. Man, that’s my boy; feel me. I don’t look at him like that. It’s just that after that pretty muhfucka left I got horny as fuck.”
A slow, sexy grin slides over her lips. “And you’re sure it didn’t have anything to do with him?”
“Nah, word is bond. The whole time I was handling my dick I had you on the brain. All I kept seeing was that pretty wet pussy.”
“Mmmm.” She lifts her wineglass to her lips and takes a slow sip. “I like that. But what if I told you I’ve fantasized about fucking him? Tried to imagine what his dick looks like? What would you say to that?”
I smirk. “I’d tell you all you had to do is ask. His shit’s long, thick and reddish brown. Then I’d wanna know why you ain’t never share them dirty thoughts with ya man? We coulda did some role-play-type shit.” I walk up on her. “What, you keeping secrets from me? Is that how we doing it? Let me find out you stay flirting with my boy on the low.”
Marika looks up at me and blinks innocently. “You know I’d never do anything like that. Keep secrets. But, yes, I’ve been guilty of flirting with Carlos a few times over the years, but nothing worthy of concern. And, truthfully, I’d only entertain fucking him, if you wanted him in our bed, too.” She bats her lashes.
Goddamn, my baby has amazing fucking tits! I lick my lips, reaching for her nipples.
Though Marika and I are bisexual, and non-monogamous—for a lack of a better way of explaining how we define our relationship, our open marriage—don’t get shit twisted, we are very much committed to each other emotionally, mentally, and physically. No matter who else we get it in with.
Marika’s my fuckin’ heart.
My whole muthafuckin’ world.
Fact.
“Nah. Besides, I’m about to sign him to MK so you know even if he did get down like that, it definitely isn’t gonna pop off now.”
“Ohmygod!” she squeals. “That’s great news! I wonder why he didn’t mention anything to me about it when I saw him.”
I shrug. “He probably wanted to keep it on the low until the ink is signed on the contract and we make an official announcement.”
“I’m so excited. And I know if you have your way, he’ll be groomed to become the hottest, new megastar in the industry.”
I grin, rubbing my chin. “True indeed, baby. Carlos is the total package. Talented.”
“And sexy as hell,” Marika adds, fanning herself.
I laugh. “Silly-ass. Facts, though. He definitely has star power. And all the ladies love him. And wanna fuck him.”
She smiles. “Ooh, yes they do. And you’re sure you don’t—”
I cut her off before she can get the rest of her words out. “Nah, yo…” I shake my head. “Definitely not interested in going there with him. Fucking chicks together is one thing. Having him sucking my dick, if he did swing that way, is a whole other level.”
“Mmmm,” Marika coos. “Even if he doesn’t, I’d still love to see him down on his knees with them sexy-ass lips of his stretched around your dick while I lay back and play with myself.”
I grin, shaking my head. “Yo, you funny as hell. You know that, right? But, uh, you can cancel that daydream, baby. Not gonna ever happen.”
She laughs. “I know, I know. Can’t fault a girl for her fantasies, though.”
“Nah, definitely can’t. I love ya fantasies, baby. And when we get to L.A., we gonna make a few of ’em our reality.”
She moans. “I can’t wait.”
I lean in and give her a deep, tongue-probing kiss. By the time I pull back, my dick is stretching down my inner thigh. “Now, see what you’ve done?” I show her my dick print. Not that it’s hard to miss. “You better get ya lil’ ass dressed before I end up tossing you over a chair ‘n’ fuckin’ this dick into you.”
“Oooh, I love the sound of that, daddy.”
I slap her on the ass. “Yeah, I bet. Hurry up. We have a plane to catch.”
SEVEN
Marika
The thing I love most about Marcel is that there is never a dull moment with him. He’s meticulous, attentive, adventurous, and intensely erotic. Those are some of the qualities, along with his intelligence, charm, borderline arrogance and hood swag—and not to mention his magnetic smile, and open-mindedness about life, love, and sex—that attracted me to him in the first place. Even after all these years we’ve been together, this man still never ceases to amaze me.
I love how he seduces me in a way that has
always made it easy for me to toss caution to the wind and freely give myself to him. No matter where we are. Like right here, right now, where I’m sitting next to him on our private jet to L.A., reclined back in my chair, my legs splayed open, with my wet pussy pressed against the cool leather seat as Marcel’s hand snakes its way up my skirt. His arm is covered beneath the fluffy white blanket I have draped over me.
He finds me wet and ready. His finger lightly trails the rim of my honey-slick lips. I close my eyes. Let myself inhale. I slide down in my seat, inviting him in.
“Nah, baby,” he says low in my ear. The deep, richness of his voice scorches over me like melted Belgian chocolate. “I want you to keep them pretty eyes open.”
My lids flutter open. I bite into my bottom lip. Fight back a moan as his finger dips into my slit, stirs into my juices, then quickly pulls out. He’s going to tease me, taunt me, edge me, until I scream out and can no longer hold on.
My body grows warm.
“Look at me, baby.”
I don’t right away. I need a moment. But Marcel makes it excruciatingly difficult to think straight, lightly pinching my pussy lips together with his finger and thumb. “You want my fingers fucking this hot cunt, baby? This sweet, slutty pussy?”
He’s already sliding two fingers in, deep.
“Oh G-god, yes.” I bite into my bottom lip to keep from screaming out.
“Open your eyes and look at me then.” My pussy clenches and unclenches ready to burst open as his hand pumps hard, fast. He knows I am on the verge. He slows his pace. Tells me he won’t let me come until I do as he’s asked. Open my eyes.
I blink. Breathlessly, I turn my head toward him. Eyes delving into mine, he pulls his hand out from beneath the blanket and eases his cum-coated finger into his mouth, tasting me. He licks his lips before leaning in and softly pressing them over mine, the tip of his tongue flicks, and my lips part to greet it, welcoming him—and the taste of me—in to deepen his kiss. I suck on his bottom lip, then his top lip, pulling them into my wet, wanting mouth. Oooh, I love this man.