G-Strings, Thongs, Blogs, Oh My!

by Desiree Day

  “Just do it,” she hissed.

  Devon grabbed Miranda’s ass and slid his dick in her pussy. He inhaled sharply and shuddered with desire. Her pussy was so hot, so moist. He could never complain about her not being ready, he loved that she never needed foreplay. Even pissed off, she was wet and ready for him. Devon moved his pole in and out of her.

  Suddenly Miranda began moving in sync with him. Devon’s hands tightened around her waist trying to slow her down. He knew that if she kept up her pace, she’d come and he didn’t want that to happen. Despite himself, Devon moaned, enjoying the feeling, loving being led, pushed and teased by Miranda. Moments later Miranda pushed her ass against his dick then froze. Devon’s eyes snapped open, she’d come, she was done, and she didn’t like to be touched after she’d come.

  Miranda began pulling away.

  Shit! Devon held her captive and frantically fucked her, his dick rapidly moving in and out.

  “Hurry up!”

  “I am, I’m so close.” Devon closed his eyes and pictured Jada. A few strokes later he was done. He gulped deeply.

  Miranda jerked away from him. “Good you came—now let’s go to bed, I’m tired.” She laid down, her back to him.

  Devon brought his camera to his eye, zoomed in on his target and clicked away. He grinned to himself when he saw the person of interest, passionately kiss a man. “Bingo!” He had more than enough evidence to give his client and close the case.

  Devon loved his job as a private investigator, even though he did it only on a part-time basis. Being in the business for over five years nothing surprised him anymore. He glanced at the file, Geneva Forbes. Her girlfriend Amber had retained him as soon as she suspected her lover of cheating. He had felt bad for her when she told him her story. He had heard the same story a thousand times, some with a slight variation, but it was the raw pain in her eyes that affected him. He knew that she truly loved Geneva.

  Geneva had been keeping him busy. He had never taken so many pictures of one subject. And he knew that his report would be more than twenty pages.

  “Sorry Amber,” he muttered, while snapping pictures of Geneva and her lover. His hands had moved down to cup her ass and pulled her closer to him.

  Tonight he had followed them from a restaurant to a cheap motel that rented rooms by the hour. They stood boldly on the threshold, the bright lights coming from within the room, spotlighting them.

  “I’m done here.” By tomorrow afternoon, he’ll hand-deliver to Amber a detailed written report as well as pictures. Satisfied with his accomplishments, Devon drove off. He made his way through the streets in no hurry to go home. Miranda was there. He had left her there when he left to go on assignment. She’d be there when he’d get home, she always is.

  “She’s not like Jada,” Devon said to himself. “Jada’s beautiful, sweet, funny, sexy, everything Miranda isn’t. The blogger guy said that I should say something to her. He’s right…I need to. What happens if she doesn’t feel the same way I do?” he wondered.

  CHAPTER 4

  Oh boy, Brandon and I broke up a couple of weeks ago. This time I did the breaking up. Ha! Ha! He turned out to be the biggest asshole ever. I mean really, why lie? Okay let me back up. I’m still so mad that my hands are shaking. A couple of weeks ago Devon and I decided to go out for Thai. We hadn’t eaten it in a while so we had a taste for it. We go to the restaurant and guess who I saw there, just fucking guess. That’s right Brandon. And he was booed up with some lady. I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat back and watched. The more I saw him kiss her, feed her and laugh in her face, the madder I got, not because he did the same shit to me last night, but because he was a liar. And I hate liars. So before Devon could stop me, I flew across the room, I know it’s stupid and dramatic and I should’ve waited until I calmed down, but hindsight is a bitch. By the time I got to their table I was so hot that if someone had doused me with ice-cold water, steam would’ve come off me.

  And you thought he would’ve been embarrassed but he wasn’t, not at all. He had the nerve to be indignant, like I was fucking up his vibe. So I got indignant right back—I wasn’t in the mood to be fucked with. So I asked him who’s the chick he’s hugging on. A friend, that’s all he said…a friend. WTF!!! Then he had asked me who was with me. And I said Devon and he laughed, mean-like and said Devon wasn’t my friend, but my boyfriend. I told him he was full of shit. Devon and I aren’t like that. But all he did was laugh again and called me stupid. I was so mad that I picked up his spring roll and threw it at his ugly face. Childish I know, but I was pissed and he deserved it and it felt good.

  And then after all this bullshit, I met a new guy, Garrett. He’s everything that I despise in a guy. He’s superficial, arrogant, boastful and has about much depth as a wading pool, but he was cute, really cute. Okay, sexy, he’s very sexy and the only thing he can do is break my heart.

  Jada closed her journal and place it on her nightstand.

  Nowadays where millions of people were posting their most private thoughts, situations and relationships on-line, Jada preferred discretion. Since she was ten-years-old she had been keeping a journal, where she had written down her most intimate thoughts, her heartbreaks and life’s triumphs. She had over a dozen journals tucked away in old shoeboxes, stuffed in the back of her closet.

  The next afternoon, she and Mandy were in her bedroom.

  “So you’re going out with him?” Mandy asked.

  “I guess,” Jada answered. She was surprised when he had called her.

  “You sound as excited as an American Idol reject.”

  “I just don’t know why he asked me out. I’m so not his type,” Jada said.

  “And he’s yours?” Mandy asked.

  “I know right? I kid you not, but I’m a loser magnet. Every guy I’ve dated in the last two years was either living with their mother, living with their sister, living with their wife or cheating on me.” She snorted sharply after that one, then continued, “Just lost their job, having baby mama drama, and don’t let me forget gay. I’ve seen it all. So no, he’s not my type. He’s the type of guy that I automatically cross the street when I see him coming.”

  “A thug. You’re going out with a thug?” Mandy asked and Jada was afraid that her friend was going to hyperventilate.

  “No no no. He’s not a thug. He’s a pretender. He’s one of those Atlanta men who likes to pretend that his shit doesn’t stink, that he always have to have a model chick on his arm, and no matter whether he could afford it or not, he’s going to be driving a Benz, Lexus or Range Rover. ‘Cause of course this is Atlanta where people like to pretend that they have their shit together. And that means spending a lot of money that you don’t have.”

  “You’re sounding bitter girl. Why are you going out with him? It sounds like you despise him,” Mandy said exasperated.

  “I don’t despise him. But I have a taste for something different,” Jada admitted.

  “Hey that man isn’t an ice cream cone. You’d better behave yourself or I’m going to put you back on your regular diet of losers.” They both laughed. “Are you bringing your questionnaire?”

  “Yep. Got it right here,” she said patting her back pocket.

  “Do you think he’ll fill it out?”

  “He’d better.”

  “I don’t know why you keep using that thing. It hasn’t helped you one bit in any of your relationships.”

  “I know that. But at least a brotha knows my likes and dislikes from the start, that way he knows where I stand so there isn’t any unnecessary drama.”

  “So how’s that working for you?” Mandy quipped.

  “Fuck you! How do I look?”

  “You look fine,” Mandy answered slowly. Jada’s well worn jeans hugged her curves and her tank top clung to her breasts and peeking out under the hem of her jeans were her white sneakers. Her friend looked like she was getting ready for the first day of high school instead of meeting a hottie for brunch.
/>   “I’m not passing the Mandy test. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I think it’s cool for brunch.”

  “Yeah, if you’re fifteen,” Mandy replied sarcastically.

  “But I don’t do glam,” Jada objected. “You know that. I’m not a girly girl.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be a girly girl to look sexy,” Mandy said as she peeled through a pile of clothes that she had wisely brought over for Jada’s date. She had a feeling that her girl wasn’t going to do it up right and she was correct. “This tube top twin set is sexy.”

  “I don’t know. It’ll show the girls off too early.”

  “That’s true, they will end up looking like the neighborhood welcoming committee.”

  “Well, they are friendly,” Jada said with a laugh.

  “What about this halter top, still sexy but not too glam or girly girl.”

  “Oh God, you’re not going to stop are you,” Jada asked her best friend. Mandy shook her head. “Well hand me the halter top.” Jada pulled off her tank top and replaced it with the halter. “This does look nice,” she said while admiring herself in the mirror. “It’s sexy but not too sexy. The girls are out just a little and I don’t feel like I made a real big deal over him.”

  “Oh, he will think you did, especially when I finish with your make-up.” Mandy inched toward Jada, pointing a tube of lipstick as though it was a weapon.

  Jada put her hands in front of her face. “This is it. No more. I’m going to stick with my regular routine.” She stuck a finger in a jar of Vaseline and swiped it across her lips. “There you go, I’m done.”

  “Jada!” Mandy protested. “At least let me line your eyes.”

  “Nope. See ya!”

  Jada waited for Garrett at a table located on the patio of one of her favorite restaurants. She was glad that she had gotten there early, the place was filling up and almost all the tables were gone. Several ladies wearing sundresses, strappy sandals with perfectly made up faces and hair blowing in the wind, sauntered pass her as though they didn’t have a care in the world. “Maybe I should’ve taken Mandy up on her offer,” she mumbled to herself, suddenly feeling dowdy. She pulled the questionnaire out her back pocket and unfolded it. After smoothing it out, she left it in front of her.

  Five minutes later she saw Garrett walking down the street, she stood up, and waved him over. Damn he’s got swag. As he got closer she noticed a single red rose in his hand. A smile the size of the moon spread across her face.

  “I hope that smile is for me,” Garrett said when he stepped in front of her and embraced her. “Whassup?”

  “Is that for me?” Jada asked excitedly. She hadn’t received flowers in years.

  “It is,” Garrett answered, proud of himself. He knew that any other lady would’ve turned her nose up at one rose, and would’ve bitched about the other missing eleven. But a dozen would’ve been too extravagant for Jada. He had guessed correctly, she liked the simple things. Right on point, he thought smugly to himself. “You look cute,” he said politely.

  “You look nice too.” Jada could barely keep her eyes off him and she slipped her hands in her pockets, they were itching to caress his arms. Thank God for summer, she thought. I love to see a man in short sleeves and shorts. His bright orange T-shirt hugged his thick chest and muscled arms. His cargo shorts showed off a pair of hairy muscular calves.

  Garrett held her chair, as she slid in, he took a peek at her breasts. Nice set of ta tas, pleased he strolled over to his seat.

  “I love this neighborhood,” Jada said, finally settled.

  “It’s cool. It doesn’t surprise me that you live here.”

  “What does that mean?” Jada asked, putting her hand on her hips. She was one breath away from snaking her neck.

  “Relax!” Garrett said with a laugh. “I only meant that this is the place to hang out if you’re looking for something cool and off-beat. Eccentric,” he said as an explanation.

  “So you’re calling me off beat?” Jada nearly shouted.

  “Would you calm down? Stop being so freaking defensive. You’re a different breed of lady so it makes sense that you’re living in a unique part of town.” Jada simply rolled her eyes. “It’s cool to be different,” Garrett said.

  “Where do you live?”

  “I have a loft downtown. I love it. I’m central to everything.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” she muttered.

  “What? What did you say?”

  “I said, that it doesn’t surprise me that you live downtown,” Jada said, loud enough for him and people two tables away to hear.

  Garrett leaned back in his chair. “Tell me little mama, why doesn’t that surprise you?” he asked quietly.

  “Because you like to show off, and having a loft downtown is one way to do it,” Jada answered, suddenly feeling foolish when she realized how silly and immature she sounded.

  “No, I picked it because like I said earlier, it’s central to everything. It takes me only twenty minutes to get to ninety percent of things in the city. And I love it,” Garrett replied, looking hurt, she had read him correctly…again. It was true, his loft was in the perfect location, but it was also a pussy magnet. As soon as women found out that he lived in one of the most prominent buildings in Atlanta, they were all over him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m being mean, for some reason you bring out the worst in me. Let’s just order,” Jada decided.

  They quickly ordered. Garrett noticed the piece of paper on the table. “What’s this?” he asked reaching for it.

  “Nothing!” Jada reached for it but he was faster.

  “Have you ever had a threesome? Are you over your ex-girlfriend? Do you have any children? If so, how many? Have you ever hit a woman?” He peeked over the top of the paper at her, Jada met his amused glance with a stony one of her own. He continued reading, “What do you like to do in your spare time? Have you ever done drugs? If so, what kind? Do you know the meaning of misogynistic if so, do you practice it? Have you ever cheated on your girlfriend?” Garrett’s heart thudded, he had committed almost half of her infractions. He calmly placed the paper down and Jada snatched it up. “What is that?”

  “Nothing,” she answered then quickly folded it up and tucked it in her back pocket.

  “It must be important if you stuck it on the table for me to see.”

  “It’s not important, and I didn’t leave it there for you to see. I was reading it while I was waiting for you. It’s my friend’s Mandy, she wanted me to review it for her. She met a new guy and she wants to give it to him to complete,” she said.

  “Word? So do you think that’s a good idea? I think that all people have to do is talk. They can find out a lot of stuff by talking.”

  “Yeah, I think I told you that already,” Jada replied dryly.

  “Tell me Ma, what would you like to ask me? Ask me anything on your friend’s survey.”

  “It’s not a survey, it’s a questionnaire,” Jada snapped.

  “Forgive me, questionnaire. What would you like to ask me?”

  “I don’t want to ask you anything.”

  “Let’s just do it for shits and giggles. Today you get an opportunity to explore Garrett Henlon’s mind. Go for it.”

  Jada reached into her pocket and pulled out the questionnaire. “Okay remember that this isn’t mine this is my friend’s.”

  “Of course.” Garrett steepled his fingers in front of him.

  “Have you ever had sex with a man?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you love your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you own a dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever had any baby mama drama?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Have you ever used drugs?”

  “Just weed.”

  “Recently?” she shot back.

  “Years ago,” he lied.

  “Ha
ve you ever hit a lady?”

  “Naw,” he drawled. “What do you think I am, an animal?”

  “Have you ever had a threesome?”

  “No,” Garrett lied smoothly. “And I never will.”

  “Have you ever cheated on a girlfriend.”

  “Definitely not!” the third lie came out so smoothly that it surprised even him. “So how did I do?”

  She smiled, he had passed with flying colors. “You did okay,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Ready to go?” Garrett asked, after they finished brunch.

  “Sure,” Jada answered. The afternoon had gone a lot better than she thought it would. And Garrett passed her survey with flying colors. She reached for her purse.

  “Hey what are you doing? I asked you out.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jada said sheepishly, then nervously played with her purse strap. “You’re a rarity, men usually act like their arms are broken when it’s time to pay the check.”

  “We all aren’t like that.”

  “Obviously!” Not only had he paid the bill with cash, but he left a hefty tip.