by Cairo
“I do enjoy them,” he says, lowering his voice. “You know how long I’ve been waiting to be with you, girl? You had a muhfucka feelin’ good; too good.”
“Then why you calling here with nonsense?” I ask, swinging the comforter off of me and getting out of bed. I walk over to get my laptop off of my desk, then bring it back over to the bed. I climb back in, propping two pillows up behind me. I turn it on; wait for it to boot up.
“’Cause you did some shit that fucked my head up.”
“Well, did you like it?” He gets quiet. So I add, “I wanted our time to be all about you, Jasper. Don’t you know how much I’ve missed you? I didn’t wanna just suck down your dick, baby, or swallow your balls. I wanted to taste all of you. And licking your ass is something I’ve always wanted to do to you.”
“Why you ain’t say somethin’ then?”
“I didn’t think I needed to.”
“You got me buggin’, yo,” he says, pausing. I can hear him breathing. He’s thinking, wondering. He blows out air into the phone. “And you ain’t do that shit wit’ no one else?”
“No, Jasper, I haven’t.”
“Yeah, aiight, then,” he says. I hear relief in his voice. “Go on back to sleep. I’ma hit you up later on, aiight?”
“Good night,” I say, turning off the PC volume, then logging onto AOL.
“Good night? That’s how you doin’ it?”
“Jasper, what else you want me to say?” The mail icon says I have twelve new messages.
He huffs. “Fuck it, yo. What you gettin’ ready to do?”
I open the first email. Vgl Italian married male here who never gets what he likes the most, head! I am 5’10 180 musc, tattooed with buzz cut. 7 cut & thick here. I will have to sneak out, so you must be within 10 minutes of south Plainfield, or be willing to come to my house, and blow me in my detached garage. Wifey is a sound sleeper. I will be up till around 2 am so definitely interested in a sexy, black chick with great oral skills to give me a hot wet tight bj to completion. Willing to eat your pussy if you want.
“I’m going back to bed,” I lie, deleting the message, then clicking down to the next email. 6’3” 220, handsome, 8 cut brown eyes. Need a great SLOW BJ. Tonight!!! Working midnight shift. Come thru and suck my dick in the parking lot. I’ll finger your pussy for you.
“Yo, I gotta bounce. This nosey punk-ass counselor is comin’ through doin’ rounds and he be on some bitch-type shit tryna hem muhfuckas up. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He abruptly hangs up, and I go back to reading emails. Damn, baby. U sound hot! 22. Italian. 6’4 195 8c. Always wanted to experience skull-fucking a sexy black chick. Hit me up. Young, horny and full of hot cum for your throat.
I smile, tempted to give his young ass a taste of what this deep throat is all about. I type: Baby, if u think you’re ready for the dick suck of ur life, then hit me back with a pic of ur sausage. I’ve always heard Italians had good cock!
After I send my reply I decide to delete the remaining emails. However, just as I’m preparing to exit out of my account, an IM screen pops up from mister Italian Stud Cock.
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: watz up?
DEEPTHROATDIVA: sucking a clean, fat cock
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: Then I’m ur man, baby. Got that stud cock 4 u. Thick, clean and always hard. Multiple cummer here. Shoot big loads. U host? Travel?
DEEPTHROATDIVA: Travel
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: what r ur stats?
DEEPTHROATDIVA: 34-22-38. Soft, luscious lips, hot tongue with a long, deep throat. Can swallow a dick in one gulp
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: Damn, that sounds good. I like that!
DEEPTHROATDIVA: And it feels even better
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: Itz gettin late. Can we meet? I’m ready if u r
I glance over at the clock. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I contemplate what I should do. The idea of tasting some young Italian dick is appealing to me. I tell him to send me a dick flick before I make my decision. In the meantime, another IM screen pops up.
THICKSEVEN-AND-A-HALF4U: wassup, ma? How u?
DEEPTHROATDIVA: hey there. I’m good, and U?
THICKSEVEN-AND-A-HALF4U: chilln-chilln. Horny as fuk 4 some of that deep throat
DEEPTHROATDIVA: is that ur way of say’n u wanna c me?
Italian Stud sends me an email with an attachment of two pics. I click it open. My mouth waters the minute his dick appears on the screen. It’s a nice thick piece with a big, juicy mushroom shaped head. There’s a big vein that runs across the top of it. I can’t deny, it looks…delicious. And I’m tempted.
THICKSEVEN-AND-A-HALF: Maybe. But I’ma respect ya space. My dick is hard 4 more.
DEEPTHROATDIVA: U betta be glad I’m on a dick-fast; otherwise U’d be in trouble. LOL
THICKSEVEN-AND-A-HALF: LOL. Me and my dick like trouble.
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: U still there?
DEEPTHROATDIVA: where u @?
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: Union. Earl Street
DEEPTHROATDIVA: do u have a safe spot we can go?
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: yeah.
DEEPTHROATDIVA: is 40 mins too late?
ITALIANSTUDCOCK: Nah. Itz good. I can meet u on the corner. I’ll be in blue jeans, white tee, and white sneakers wearing a blue fitted. 908-444-1111
DEEPTHROATDIVA: k. C u then!
I write his number down, then close out the screen. Mister Thick Seven and I chat back and forth for a few more minutes before he tells me he has to go. That he has to go jack off because I got his dick rocked.
DEEPTHROATDIVA: Ooooh. *licks lips* U nasty. Imagine me on my knees with my head back and mouth open wtg 4 u to bust ur nut in my hot mouth
THICKSEVEN-AND-A-HALF: Daaaaaamn. No doubt! Gotta go, babe. TTYL
I click out of the box and shake my head, knowing damn well I have no business entertaining any of these niggas after all the shit I’ve been going through. Girl, turn this shit off and take your crazy ass back to sleep, I think, mulling over my options. Suck dick. Go to sleep. Suck dick. Go to sleep. What’s a girl to do? Before I am able to make a decision one way or the other my cell rings. And in that instant my choice is already made for me. I sigh, feeling almost relieved. “Hello.”
“You sleep?”
“No, Jasper,” I say, leaning over the side of the bed, sitting my laptop on the floor. I slide it under the bed. I lie back against the pillows, resting my head up against the headboard. “I’m sitting up in bed.”
“Oh, word? Doing what?”
“Thinking about you,” I tell him.
“Oh, word? That’s wassup. What you thinkin’ ‘bout?”
“Sucking on that dick.”
“Damn, baby. I wish I was home in bed wit’ you.”
I let out a soft moan. “Me, too. Right now I’d be all over you.”
“Yo, you feel like gettin’ off?”
“Where you at?”
“In my bunk,” he says in almost a whisper. “I got my locker door blocking me. I wanna bust this nut, baby.”
I smile. “You got your dick out?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s do it, Daddy.” I cut off my night lamp, then begin removing my panties. I toss them across the room. “I’m sticking my hand in between my thighs, rubbing my clit while I’m on my knees sucking your big-ass dick, baby…you like that?”
“Ah, shit, yeah…you gonna let me taste that pussy?”
I moan. Then for the next twenty minutes, Jasper and I go back and forth, moaning and groaning and talking nasty shit to each other until we both cum all over ourselves; me all over my fingers, him on his chest and stomach. I clutch the phone to my ear, breathing heavy into his ear.
“Damn, baby…that was good,” Jasper says, catching his breath as well. “Yo, my shit is still hard. I need to be way up in that pussy, yo.”
“I need you up in it, too.” I glance over at the clock. 2:42 A.M. Fuck! I yawn, feeling sleep coming down on me. “But I need to go to sleep now. I’
m exhausted.”
“I feel you; me too. Good night, baby. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Jasper.” We hang up. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep with no other thoughts of sucking dick—for now.
TWENTY-TWO
The following morning, I wake up late and wrong. It’s almost eight o’clock. And I have to be at the shop by ten. I have six appointments scheduled today, back to back, starting at ten. I race around the house, trying to get myself ready. I jump in the shower, wash the snatch real good, then hop out.
Thirty minutes later, I’m peeling out of my driveway. As I’m turning out of my development, my cell rings. I pull it from out of my bag, then glance at the screen. It’s Mona. “Hey, girl,” I say, pressing on the Bluetooth connection.
“Pasha, girl, is everything okay? I heard what happened down at the shop. Stax told Sparks. And you know how his ass can’t keep shit to himself.”
I laugh, knowingly. “Yeah, everything’s good. Thanks. The police, of course, still haven’t found the motherfucker who did me in. But it’s all good.”
“Hmmph, figures. Were you able to see what he looked like?”
“Not really,” I tell her. “One of the customers caught a glimpse of him, but it wasn’t enough for an accurate description of him.” I tell her he was brown-skinned and wearing a hoodie and a pair of baggy blue jeans. “So, in a nutshell, with no fingerprints and no concrete description to go on, the police still have no leads.”
She laughs. “Chile, that description fits half the nigga’s in the hood.”
I laugh with her. “Girl, you ain’t never lied about that. I only hope they catch this kook before his nutty ass does something else.” Shit, shit, shit, I say to myself, realizing I’ve said more than I should have. Mona picks up on this and doesn’t miss a beat.
“Wait, what do you mean ’before he does something else’? Are you trying to tell me he’s done some other shit besides smashing out the shop’s window? Do you know this nigga?”
“Oh no, not at all,” I quickly state, trying to clean it up. I make a left turn onto Central Avenue. “All I’m saying is, with that nigga still lurking around there’s no telling who else’s property he’ll damage. And I don’t want his ass coming back to mine.”
“Mmm…yeah, you right. But, why the fuck would someone wanna smash out your window like that in broad daylight? That shit makes no sense to me.”
“Me either,” I say, regretting I ever answered this call.
“And the nigga didn’t even try to rob ya’ll.” She pauses. “Mmmph. Girl, you know like I do, anyone busting out windows is usually on some personal shit.”
I sigh, feeling a headache stirring. Mona has always been someone who doesn’t let too much shit get by her. If you ask me, she’s too damn smart for her own damn good sometimes. “Well, shit. I don’t know why. I haven’t done shit to anyone.”
“Girl, I’m talking about one of them stylists you got working up in there. Shit, as messy as Shuwanda is, who’s to say it’s not some nigga she done put on blast?”
I roll my eyes. OhmyGod, I need to change the subject, I think, before she keeps dragging this shit on. “Well, I hope not. Anyway, enough talk about that. Jasper and I set a wedding date,” I tell her, stopping at a red light.
She laughs. “Is this your version? ’Cause it definitely isn’t the story Jasper’s telling.”
“Girl, whatever,” I say, laughing with her. “The point is the date is set.”
“Yeah, the point is Jasper put his foot down on that ass.” She continues laughing. “Whew. I sure got a kick outta that when he told me.”
“Whatever.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter who set the date. All that matters is that it’s finally happening. So congratulations. It’s about damn time.”
I smile. “That’s more like it. Thanks.”
“Now the real work begins. So, what’s next?”
“Well, first I gotta work on the guest list, then find a place so I can get the invitations printed up. Then I need to find a dress…” Shit, shit, shit! I have all this stuff to do, and only five months to get it all done. “…the flowers, the cake and—”
“Girl, slow down,” she says, cutting me off. She chuckles. “You don’t have to do it all yourself. That’s what you have me and Felecia for—your Matron and Maid of Honor.”
“Now who said anything about having your ugly face all up in my wedding?” I tease, laughing.
“Shit, you’re uglier than me,” she says, teasing back, “but that’s beside the point, Miss Celie. Jasper wouldn’t know ya funky-ass if it wasn’t for me so you owe me, boo.”
I’m cracking up as I turn into the salon’s parking lot. “Well, since you put it like that. I guess it’s a done deal. Find me a florist. Then see if you can get Raven the Cake Man to do my wedding cake. I want his slamming red velvet cake. I don’t have a design in mind, yet. He’s usually booked months in advance, but let him know I’m willing to pay extra if he can fit me in.”
She laughs. “Well, damn…shall I wash your feet while I’m at it, your highness?”
“No, that’ll be all for now. I’ll give Felecia her things-to-do list next.” I shut off the engine, then gather my things, getting out of the car. I glance at my watch. 8:22 A.M. “Well, let me get off this phone. I’m getting ready to walk up in the shop. Call me later with an update.”
“I swear, girl. If you turn into a Bridezilla I’m gonna set your dress and hair on fire. Speaking of dresses, do you have any idea what your colors are gonna be?” I tell her that since it’s a fall wedding I’m going to go with an ivory gown—either Valentino or Chanel; I tell her that chocolate brown will be the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses. Tell her that their floral arrangements will be pink roses, hyacinth and gloriosa lilies.
“Alright now. I like. But, remember what I said. If you turn into the Bride of Frankenstein, it’s off with your damn head.” We laugh, hanging up.
The minute I walk into the salon, I see Stax leaning on the counter talking to Felecia. He’s wearing a grey and black Nike muscle shirt and a pair of nylon sweats. The way his muscles are bulging, I can tell he’s been to the gym. Felecia stops speaking when she sees me. And it makes me suspicious. But I don’t plan on letting it occupy my thoughts today. “Hey, girl,” she says, grinning. The way she’s cheesing definitely lets me know the two of them were talking about something. I don’t know what. But whatever they were discussing, I’d bet my last hundred that it had everything to do with me.
“Hey, ya’ll,” I say.
“What’s good, Pash?” Stax says, smiling.
“Hey, girl,” Felecia says.
“Nothing much,” I say before bringing my attention back to Felecia. “Any cancellations so far?”
“Not yet. So far, it looks like it’s going to be another money-making day for us.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, smiling.
“I know that’s right.”
“Anything else going on?”
“Nope,” she says, adjusting her burgundy blunt-cut wig.
“You good, Pash?” Stax asks.
“I’m doing great,” I tell him. “Couldn’t be better; how about you?”
“I’m good, ma. You know how I do.”
“Mmm-hmm. That’s why I asked.”
He laughs. “Nah, it’s all good.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“You lookin’ fly as usual,” he says, running his eyes all over my body. The way he dips his voice and gazes at me when he says this causes me to nervously shift my weight from one foot to another.
I playfully roll my eyes. “Whatever. Flattery will get you no-where. What brings you by so early in the morning?”
“I was hopin’ I could holla at you for a minute.”
I glance at my watch, raising my eye, then placing a hand on my hip. “At eight-thirty in the morning? Stax please. You could have called.”
“I was over this way anyway. My gym’s not
too far from here so I decided to swing by. I saw Felecia’s whip and stopped in. I know you’re usually here early. Plus Jasp wanted me to come through to make sure everything was aiight here.”
I suck my teeth, shaking my head. “I should have known. You can tell my husband-to-be that everything’s okay here.” I grab my things from off the counter. “C’mon to my office so we can talk.” I glance over at Felecia, narrowing my eyes. She shakes her head, shrugging. I walk off with Stax following behind me. The whole way to the office I can practically feel his eyes on my ass. I unlock the door, then walk in. He shuts the door behind him.
I plop my things on the sofa, then take a seat at my desk. “So what’s up?”
“My girl wanted me to holla at you to see if you could put her on.”
I raise my brow. “Put her on how?” Braiding hair here, he tells me. “Which girl?” I tease.
He grins, playfully rolling his eyes up in his head. “Oh, you got jokes, I see. Mariah; my baby’s mother. Who else?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you were talking about one of your jump offs.”
“Nah, that’s not how I do mine,” he says, eyeing me.
“That’s good to know. Umm, wait a minute. Isn’t your girl about ready to drop soon?”
“Oh, nah,” he says nonchalantly, “she lost it.” He doesn’t seem fazed by the loss. Then, again, I guess he wouldn’t be since he wasn’t beat to have another baby with her, anyway.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is she alright?”
“Yeah, she’s good.” And knowing her, she’ll be trying to get pregnant again real soon.
I’ve never really cared for Mariah. Not that I know her personally. I might have seen her three, maybe four, times—and have seen Stax out in public with her once or twice—since I’ve known him. Now I will say this about her, she’s a cute chick, and she wears some of the fliest shit. Other than that, she’s loud and obnoxious. And ghetto as hell when she’s set off, cursing and fighting. Hell, I don’t think she’s ever held down a job longer than a month or two before she’s knocking somebody in the head. Shit, I can see her now, smacking up Shuwanda for trying to come at her sideways. And the way Shuwanda runs her mouth, she’d definitely try her. “I don’t know, Stax. Your girl is a bit on the wild side, if you know what I mean.”