by Cairo
She made a huffing noise and glared up at him.
“Well? Are you going to answer the question?”
Desire flamed in his eyes. Then, without a word, he surprised her when he leaned in and gave her a slow, sensual kiss—they hadn’t even gotten the closet door closed good, after all—but she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back, her tongue gliding over and around his.
He breathed her in, inhaling the very essence of her as he pulled her into him.
She emitted a soft moan and for a moment, her eyes closed and her hand leisurely eased up his back, over his uniform shirt.
The sexual tension between them thickened the air in the tiny space, making her lightheaded. She gasped for air but wouldn’t pull away. The kiss consumed her. She consumed him. And their tongues continued to tangle until her mouth inched upward and her teeth nipped and caught his upper lip. She pulled outward and sucked it further into her mouth, greedily sucking. Her tongue licked and laved before she released his lip.
He groaned and pressed his thigh into her crotch, and she realized he was growing hard against her leg. A moan built deep in her chest as he nibbled back at her lips. And, then—kiss for kiss, lick for lick, bite for bite . . . it escaped from the back of her throat, and burst out in a sound of sweet agony as his hand slid between her legs, and he touched her there. Over the fabric of her jumper and the panties that had now become sodden with lust.
Her clit tightened and strained between her legs. No, no, no. She couldn’t fuck him—not again, and not here, not now. But her body heated, and her cunt exploded in a rush of molten lava.
Her sensitive breasts rubbed against his chest through her jumper making her pussy tingle. And she heard another sigh of pleasure echo from her throat unbidden as his lips and warm kisses glided along the column of her neck, while his hands found her swollen breasts and cupped them.
“Oh, God, yes,” she murmured.
“I want you so bad, baby,” he muttered, his voice a hot whisper. She felt his arousal spreading down through her like warm fudge.
“Mmm . . .”
“Let me inside you,” he whispered, reaching for her jumper’s zipper and sliding it down. She caught his hand midway and stopped him, tearing herself away from his grasp.
“Stop,” she whispered breathlessly, drawing back slightly.
He let out a low growl in response, pulling her back into his arms. “You don’t mean that, baby. You have me so fucking horny. Just let me put the head in.”
She looked up at him incredulously. She almost laughed at the absurdity of him only putting the head in. Yeah, okay. Good luck with that. She knew as well as he did that if the head went in, so would the rest of his dick.
So—hell no, she wasn’t falling for that lame shit.
“C’mon, baby,” he urged, rubbing his dick over his pants with his hand. “We gotta make it quick. I only have another ten minutes, or so. Let me bust this nut in you.”
“No,” she managed between thready breaths, trying to ignore the long, hard column that had grown in his pants. But without forethought, she reached down between them, wrapping her hand around it through the fabric.
Oh, he felt so thick in her hand.
So, so hard.
She licked her lips, anticipating the taste of him. She felt her pussy tremor at the thought of feeling his hard flesh over her tongue. It’d been over a year, before her incarceration, since she’d been down on her knees sucking a dick.
All the weeks in solitary, with him sneaking into her cell—dicking her down, not once had she given him head. She wanted to, but she restrained herself.
She sucked in a breath.
“No pussy for you,” she pushed out in between pants. And as she protested, denied herself what hung between his legs, he dropped his head to her neck, kissing and biting at the skin under her ear.
A low groan left him before he said against her flesh, “You know you want this dick inside you. Don’t you, baby?” His voice was thick, throaty, from arousal.
Mmm, God, yes. She wanted it inside her so badly, fucking her, ravishing her, wringing out an orgasm.
But she needed to test his commitment to her—further, first. “No pussy. But if you promise to bring me something, I’ll give you the back of this throat . . .”
“Aw,” he breathed. He was so, so ready to explode. But—fuck, head wasn’t what he’d had in mind; still, he’d take what he could get. Bottom line, he’d promise her a mink wrap if it meant having her catch his nut. “Anything for you, baby; just let me feel them pretty lips around this dick.”
She smiled. Then she reached for his fly and fumbled with his button and zipper. As his fly parted, she slid to her knees and shoved his pants down over his hips and then reached into his boxers and dragged his dick out of confinement. She licked the head and then suckled it inside her mouth, sucking gently.
“I want two dildos and a vibrator,” she stated as she let the head slide momentarily free from her lips.
“Whoa. Wait a second,” he stated unsure he’d heard her right. “You want what?”
“You heard me,” she mumbled. “I want you to smuggle me in a few dildos. Nothing too big, though, just a ten-inch and maybe something a little smaller.”
He frowned. “Nah, fuck that. You wanted a phone. You got it. You wanted expensive-ass panty-sets. You got that, too. And now you’re asking me to bring you in some fake-ass dicks?” He shook his head. “Nah, baby. Ain’t happening.”
She looked up at him through her veil of lashes, and asked, “Do you want to keep getting this pussy?”
His jaw twitched, but his eyes flared with desire. Why the fuck bitches always gotta use the pussy to try and manipulate a motherfucker, he wondered to himself. That shit was a big turn-off when other hoes he’d encountered over the years tried it. But there was something about the way she’d tried it that made him want the pussy even more. There was no way he could not want to be up inside her, buried deep every chance he got.
“Don’t play with me. Hell yeah,” he breathed out. “But . . .”
“Then smuggle me in what I’ve asked for. Two dildos and a vibrator.”
Before he could continue his protest, she held up his dick and slowly licked under and around his balls, before sucking them into her mouth. She wetly massaged them with her tongue.
She looked up at him through her thick lashes again; raw heat blazing in her eyes, she licked the underside of his shaft.
“Should I stop?”
“Fuck nah,” he rasped, his hand tangling in her hair as he cupped the back of her neck and used his other hand to guide his dick to her mouth. “Suck it.”
She flicked her tongue over the head of his dick, then swirled her tongue over and around the head. Then she slid her tongue along its head.
“Aah, fuck, baby . . .”
“Am I going to get what I’ve asked for?” she questioned, her mouth hovering over his turgid flesh.
He groaned. “Yeah, baby. I got you. Two dildos . . . mmm . . . and a vibrator.” His arousal had risen to a fever pitch. Fucking her in the storage closet, while one of the teachers played lookout, sent him on the verge of losing control. “Now let me get in that throat, baby.”
She opened her mouth and let him slide between her lips.
“Yeah, baby. Take it deep.”
He inched forward, forcing her head against the wall, and placed both hands above her, leaning into her, his palms flattened up on the wall.
“Yeah. Suck this dick . . .”
He plunged deeper, forcing her throat open. She relaxed her jaws and his hips worked back and forth, the head of his dick brushing against her tongue over and over.
He looked down at her, her beautiful mouth wetly loving his dick. “Yeah, baby, swallow it,” he said as he fucked her mouth in long strokes. “Take it all.”
She closed her eyes and felt a rush of liquid desire burn through her veins as he swelled larger in her mouth. She hummed over the width of him and slid he
r hands around to cup his muscled ass, to take more of him—her mouth, her lips, her tongue, worked synchronously.
Oh how she loved the feel of his dick in her mouth. It’d been so long since she’d sucked a dick, and the feel and taste of him was an addicting combination.
His erection tightened even further, and she smiled, satisfied, taking him deeper into her wet mouth, his head slipping down in her throat, brushing over her uvula, filling her neck. With one hand, she reached for his balls and squeezed, and a warm spurt of his milk hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed quickly to keep from choking.
She kept on sucking him, her head feverishly bobbing back and forth as his hips matched her movements. She sucked and sucked until his knees buckled, until she had sucked his balls empty, and his semi-erect dick had finally, reluctantly, plopped out of her wet, greedy mouth.
TWENTY-TWO
Drunk in Love . . .
Love didn’t just happen, did it? Wasn’t it supposed to evolve over time?
Fuck nah.
It happened when the heart opened itself up to it.
Officer Rawlings took a swig of his Heineken. The thought of her made his dick hard. He swallowed the strong, bitter lager as he pressed the swelling between his legs together and turned on his computer. He stared at the green bottle with the lone red star, impatiently drumming his fingers as he waited for it to boot.
What the fuck was he doing?
Shit.
Fuck if he knew.
All he did know was that inmate Lewis had good pussy and had sucked the shit out of his dick. And that alone had set fire to his senses in a way that no other woman ever had. He groaned as his dick tightened at the memory of being slickly buried deep in her mouth, the tight grip of her throat milking the head of his cock. She’d sucked him wildly, greedily, and she’d come immediately without being touched, the sweet juices of her pussy flooding her panties.
And he had the proof to smell it.
He pulled her panties from his back pocket—pink and frilly—and inhaled the heady scent, before licking inside the crotch. He licked and licked, then sucked them into his mouth. Then he started chewing on them as if they were a big piece of pink, pussy-flavored bubblegum.
If he could blow a few bubbles with her panties, he would.
Goddamn. Fuck.
This was a fucking mess. She made him crazy with want. Made him twisted with kinky desire. He’d never done any crazy shit like licking and sucking the inside of a bitch’s panties. And here he was laving away, his tongue practically licking out the seam.
And now he was, at eight thirty in the fucking morning, on a mission to shop—instead of crawling in bed and getting some sleep—for shit he’d never imagine buying.
Dildos.
He shook his head. He was bugging for sure. He removed her underwear from his mouth and pushed out a heated breath, then lifted his beer and pressed the opening to his lips and took a long, drawn-out swallow. He belched, setting the bottle back onto his desk as the computer screen lit up with his desktop icons. He clicked on the browser and went to a search engine page.
There, he typed in what he was looking for, and waited for the results. He almost fell out of his chair when pages and pages, link upon link, popped up on the screen. It was too overwhelming. The shit required too much thought: size, shape, color, material—jelly, silicone, soft skin (aka cyberskin), or acrylic or glass—vibrating (or not) . . .
What the fuck?
Ugh. He was tempted to click out of the browser, and simply take his ass to bed. Instead, he kept browsing. When he finally clicked on the eighth link, he bit out a curse.
He didn’t know the first thing about sex toys; let alone a fucking dildo or vibrator, but he was a man of his word. And it was what he’d promised his baby, though he couldn’t understand why the fuck she needed one of those things any-damn-way when he was offering her up all the dick she needed.
Eight, thick, curved inches.
Fucking broads. One dick was never enough. So now he had to compete with a fucking fake-ass dick. He took another gulp of his beer. As the brew heated through his veins, the thought of someone—or something—else fucking her made him feel murderous. He felt he’d seriously beat the shit out of a motherfucker, beat his skull down to the white meat, for even thinking about trying to press up on what was his.
Fuck, man. Get a grip. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a damn dildo.
He laughed at the ridiculousness of feeling jealous over a fucking sex toy. There was no way a damn manmade cock could fuck her like the real thing, the way he could.
But, fuck it.
After she’d sucked his dick then ate his babies, she’d given him strict instructions as to what type of items she wanted. Big. And black.
He clicked on a link for sextoyfun.com and, after close to thirty minutes of perusing the products, he settled on some shit called Cockzilla, a black, sixteen-and-a-half-inch dildo.
His eyes widened when another item caught his attention. A Clone-A-Willy Vibrating Dildo kit. Get the fuck out of here. Is this shit for real? He read it again. The description said he could make an exact replica of his own dick. Hell, he had nothing to lose. Shit. He was proud of his thick, veiny dick. He’d give it a try, then give it to his baby as a surprise. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. Then she could have access to his cock whenever she wanted it.
He took another swig from his beer, then added the kit to his cart, along with a vibrating jelly dong. He made his purchase, then, somehow, landed on another link. Zane’s Pleasure Products. Shit. Now he was curious as fuck to see what this freaky broad had going on. He’d never read any of her books, but he’d watched her two television shows, The Jumpoff and The Sex Chronicles on Cinemax, so he knew what time it was with her.
There he purchased Heaven a seven-inch, multi-speed massager.
Rawlings blew out a curse when he was done, then clicked out of his browser, before standing to his feet. He stretched and yawned, then began stripping out of his uniform. Next he pulled his undershirt off, then came out of his boxers, leaving a trail of clothing as he made his way to the bathroom where he turned on the shower, full blast and steaming hot. He lathered up, then languidly stroked his soapy dick, dying to be back inside his baby again; him unleashing his seeds. In her mouth. In her pussy. He even wanted to feel it in her ass.
He closed his eyes to relish in the memory of her mouth on his cock, her tongue along his shaft, her fingers digging into his ass cheeks.
He pumped his dick in his fist. Threw his head back.
And growled.
Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, his balls half-a-pound lighter.
As he puttered around his bedroom, before climbing into bed, he gave thought to the purchases he’d made earlier. This was some twisted shit. Yet, he’d gotten his baby what she’d requested.
Now the million-dollar question was: How the fuck was he going to get all this shit into the prison?
TWENTY-THREE
Strange Fruit . . .
“Hey, there,” Heaven said as she approached the young woman who’d come to her cell over a week ago. She hadn’t seen her since that day, nor had she gotten the girl’s name. But she’d heard from the prison vine (aka Sabina) that it was—shit. She raked her brain trying to remember what the gossipers said her name was. Tina something. She knew it was some crazy-ass name, but she couldn’t remember it for nothing.
“Catina, right?”
The girl scowled. “My name ain’t no damn Catina.”
“Then what is it?”
“Why?” she asked defensively.
Heaven took her in. She looked different. Cleaner. She’d washed her hair and had the ends of a fresh weave curled. And it looked as if she’d put on a little makeup—eyeliner and mascara. She even had her nails painted. Yet, she still looked hard. Hardened. The streets, the hood, life choices, all had a way of snatching a young woman’s innocence and youth away from her if she l
et it.
Heaven didn’t need to know her life story to know she had it rough. Her gaze drifted to the young woman’s arms crossed tightly over her chest, then she looked back up into her face. She was a pretty girl.
Heaven recalled that the girl had big breasts, but she hadn’t really looked at them until now. They were beautiful breasts that many women would kill to have. Big, bouncy breasts made for tit fucking and lots of sucking.
Heaven shifted her gaze again. She’d felt bad for treating her the way she had, even if she had been generous enough to give the young woman a little starter kit. Still, she didn’t have to treat her like trash even if she did smell like it.
Heaven glanced around the tier, then brought her attention back to the chick in front of her. “I wanted to have a word with you; that’s all.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and gave Heaven a dirty look. “What? You want your tampons back?”
Heaven shook her head. “No, no. I gave those things to you. I actually wanted to apologize to you for the other day. I shouldn’t have said those harsh things, especially when you were already upset. You didn’t deserve that.”
She clucked her tongue. “You right. I didn’t. I ain’t no low-class bum-bitch.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Heaven replied.
“But you was actin’ like it,” she snapped. “Comin’ at me all slick.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Heaven said sincerely.
“Oh no, boo-boo. You ain’t offend me. You pissed me the hell off. But, trust. It’s all good. I’ma pay you back for all the stuff you gave me when I get on my feet. Then after that, I’ma tell you to kiss my fuckin’ ass. I might even fight ya ole stuck-up ass ‘n’ snatch out ya weave.”
Weave?
Heaven flung her hair. She wasn’t going to waste her breath schooling some little hoodrat bitch on what real hair looked like. Her shit was all hers. From her roots to her ends, there wasn’t anything weaved up on her head.
“Listen, hon. I’m not looking for problems,” Heaven assured her. “I only wanted to apologize to you.”