by Cairo
“Whatever,” I say, shutting off the water.
He grabs me by the arm as I attempt to brush past him. He pulls me into him. “C’mon, baby. You know I was only fuckin’ wit’ you.”
I mush him in his face as he tries to kiss me. “Nigga, please.”
“C’mon, don’t start ya shit, yo. You got my dick all hard ’n shit.”
He presses himself into me. “That’s too bad,” I say, trying to ignore his growing dick. He interlocks his fingers into mine. Kisses me on the forehead, then slowly moves down to my nose, my lips, then nibbles on my neck. I don’t stop him, quickly forgetting my weak attempt at being mad at him. Before I know it, I have his hard dick in my hand, jerking it as we kiss. He slips his hand in between my thighs, plays with my clit, then dips two fingers into my sticky honey.
In no time, I am down on my knees, doing what I love most—sucking his dick. This is the only time—besides when I’m riding his dick—that Jasper submits. That he lets me have control.
I take him into my mouth and suck him, lovingly. Suck him with everything that is in me. He moans, grabs the back of my head, rocks on the back of his heels, trying to brace himself as I spit shine his nozzle.
I pull his dick from out of my neck, then begin twirling my tongue around the head of his dick, lapping at the precum. I lick the slit of his dick, then cup my lips around the head again, popping his dick with my lips and mouth. I take the shaft of his dick back in my mouth, then swallow him again. He lets out another moan of pleasure. I glance up at him and see that his eyes are shut, tight. The minute I tickle his balls with my tongue, Jasper’s leg starts to shake.
Two minutes later, I can feel the head of his dick swelling inside of my throat. I rapidly bob my head back and forth on his cock until he empties his balls down in my throat. I gulp his cream down, then pull his dick out of my mouth and suck and lick it clean, getting the last remaining drops of his creamy milk. I stand up, licking my lips. He kisses me, looking dazed, sliding his tongue back into my mouth. Jasper’s an undercover freak. Not too many niggas would tongue down their girl while she still has his nut on her tongue. But Jasper isn’t ever bothered by it. It seems to turn him on more. And that within itself turns me on even more.
When I am done, Jasper staggers back over to the bed and collapses. I turn on the shower and step in. By the time I get out, and walk back into the room, Jasper is sprawled out in the middle of the bed, snoring. I smile, getting dressed, then making my way to my doctor’s appointment to confirm what I already know in my heart.
Two weeks later, Jasper and I are in Philadelphia having an early dinner at Warmdaddy’s—a Rhythm & Blues soul food spot on Columbus Boulevard. I haven’t been to Philly in years, so when Jasper said he wanted to take a drive down here I was pleasantly surprised; particularly since he wanted to go to Penn’s Landing, the waterfront area of Center City. The weather was beautiful today so it was perfect for a stroll along the river, holding hands, talking and laughing. Something we haven’t done in years. It felt good to spend the day out of the house doing something other than fucking and sucking—which I do enjoy, don’t get me wrong. Still, the fact that Jasper wanted to get up early and do a road trip was a nice break from our normal Saturday routine.
After our stroll along the river, then ferry ride over to Camden, New Jersey to check out the Aquarium, we caught the ferry back to Philly, then walked over the bridge into South Street. Though long and exhausting, overall, it’s been a wonderful day.
Warmdaddy’s is packed as usual. We decide to eat upstairs instead of paying the extra cost to see a show. Once we’re seated, the waiter hands us our menus. At first glance, I already know what I’m going to have: the Southern Neptune Seafood Salad, and for my entrée the Eastern Coast Crab Cakes with a side of smoked turkey collards. It takes Jasper a while longer before he decides on having the Southern Fried Chicken Dinner—white meat, with a side of collards and macaroni and cheese.
The waiter takes our orders, then walks off. I am surprised when Jasper asks me what’s going on with the wedding. Usually he is not interested in any of the details; just how much it’s going to cost. We decided to have a formal, yet small intimate wedding. Well, actually I did. Still, we both agreed to keep it very small. Twenty-to-twenty-five people at the most. However, somehow, the list has grown to close to fifty guests.
He shakes his head. “Why we need all them muhfuckas there? I thought you said this was going to be a small wedding.”
“It is,” I tell him. “It’s still small enough for it to be intimate.”
He smiles. “Yeah, aiight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Yo, it’s your day,” he says thoughtfully, “so do it however, beautiful.”
“No, it’s our day,” I correct him, reaching over and touching his hand. He takes mine into his and brings it up to his lips, kissing it.
There’s a moment of silence between us before he asks, “Are you happy?”
Though his question catches me by surprise, I nod, smiling. “Do you even have to ask? I’ve waited my whole life for this. To be married, have my own family. I love a man who I know loves me back. How could I not be happy? I have everything I could ever want.”
“You sure about that?” he asks, sounding almost skeptical.
I tread lightly. “Jasper, please, let’s not ruin a potentially wonderful evening with this. Of course I’m sure.”
“Oh, aiight; just checkin’.”
“And if I told you I wasn’t?” I ask, pushing the envelope.
He smirks. “Then I’da told your sexy-ass to get over it; too fuckin’ bad. You’re stuck wit’ me. And that’s what it is. ’Til death do us part, baby.”
His emphasis on death makes me jittery and on edge. I shift in my seat, relieved when the waiter returns to the table with our pan of homemade cornbread.
“You know I love you, right?”
Cautiously, I nod, cutting a slice of cornbread. “I know you do. I love you, too.” I bite into the buttery sweet bread, practically moaning. It’s delicious.
“This, you and me,” he says, cutting himself a piece as well. “Is real, baby. You do understand there’s no turning back, right?” He keeps his stare locked on mine, placing the knife down. The way he’s looking at me, there’s a mixture of love and something else I can’t quite put my finger on—suspicion, yeah, that’s it—in his eyes.
He takes a bite into his bread, and smiles. “Yo, this shit is bangin’.”
I agree, hoping it changes the course of this conversation. “It tastes like cake. I could eat this whole pan,” I add, cutting another slice.
“No doubt. Listen,” he pauses. His intense stare dashes any hopes that this discussion is. “You got anything you wanna tell me? No jokes, no games, keep it a hunnid.”
I blink, shocked at the question. I am relieved when the waiter returns with my salad and Jasper’s cell rings. He ignores it. I share half of it with Jasper. Jasper tells the waiter he would like to order a Chimay Grand Reserve, then looks over at me to see if I want something. As bad as I want one of their mango mojitos, I decline. Order myself a passion fruit punch instead.
While I’m eating my seafood salad, it gets quiet between us. I find myself wondering why he asked if I had something to tell him. Other than being pregnant, what else would he think I had to tell? I shake it from my head, shifting to thoughts of being a mother. I try to imagine what our baby will look like. Will he or she have Jasper’s dark beautiful skin tone? Will he or she have my eyes, or Jasper’s? I wonder what kind of baby Jasper was. Was he a happy, always cooing-and-smiling baby, or was he one of those fussy, whining-colicky babies?
I steal glances at Jasper and smile. In less than three months, I’ll be almost five months pregnant and Jasper and I will be married. Of all the bitches he’s fucked, I’m the one who’s giving him a child; I’m the one he’s wifing.
He looks up from his plate, catches my smile. “Why you smilin’?”
&
nbsp; “When you asked me if I had something to tell you, I do.”
He leans up in his seat, resting his elbows up on the table as if he’s waiting for me to drop a bomb on him. “Oh, word?”
“It’s a secret I’ve been keeping; actually a surprise for you,” I say, grinning now from ear-to-ear. “I was going to wait a little longer to tell you, but I can’t hold it in any longer.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m pregnant.”
His eyes widen. “You’re pregnant?” he asks, clearly surprised about the news. I nod. “Stop playin’ wit’ me, yo. You carryin’ my seed for real?”
“Yes, baby. That’s why I was going to the doctor’s a couple of weeks ago. I went to get tested. I’m five weeks pregnant.
His face lights up with a wide Kool-Aid smile. “Oh, shit, that’s wassup, baby.” He pulls me toward him, leans in and kisses me on the lips. “Yo, you just made me the happiest man alive, word up, yo.” He flags the waiter over. “Yo, my man, skip the beer. Let me get a bottle of that Dom P. My wife’s pregnant, yo.” The waiter congratulates us, and the couple sitting in earshot next to us does the same. Jasper goes to pull out his phone to call all his people to share the news, but I quickly stop him.
“No, baby, let’s wait,” I say, grabbing his hand. “I want to keep this between us for now. Let’s surprise everyone in a few more months.”
“Oh, aiight. No doubt.” He leans over and kisses me again. “I’ma be a father. I love the hell outta you, girl.” When the waiter returns with the bottle of champagne, he pours it into flutes. Jasper waits for him to walk off, then raises his glass. “To us. Me, you and our beautiful baby; together forever.”
Our glasses click. And for the rest of the night, Jasper talks incessantly about our life together and how nothing will come between us; how he’s going to give his child everything he never had; and be what his father could never be: A dad. A tear slides down his handsome face. He quickly brushes it away. I reach over and grab his hand; kiss it. It is the first time I’ve ever seen my man cry.
TWENTY-EIGHT
It is after two A.M. when I slyly slip out of bed, careful not to wake up Jasper. We finished our nightly fuck session almost two hours ago, and I’m still restless. Jasper collapsed over on the side of his bed and passed out sweaty shortly after he busted his third round up in me. I can hear his heavy breathing and light snoring, letting me know he’s in a deep sleep—one I fucked him into. One I should be in as well. But I am not. Instead, I have been lying in bed staring up into the darkness. I steal one last peek at Jasper as I ease out of the bedroom and saunter into the spare bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me.
My laptop is sitting over on the cherry wood desk in sleep mode, but quickly comes to life with the touch of the mouse. I sit at the desk, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath. It’s been almost three weeks since I’ve shut down my Nastyfreaks4u page and close to two weeks since I’ve logged onto my AOL account to check my emails.
Girl, what the fuck is wrong with you? You have a fine-ass man who fucked you down lovely lying up in the other room and your trifling ass is in here on creep mode. Not to mention all the drama that nut brought you. That nigga almost turned your whole world upside down. Being the hardheaded ho that I am, I ignore my inner voice, and sign onto AOL. I wait for the screen to open. The voice alerts me I have new messages.
I open the first email. Hello. Nice ad. Professional, happily involved white man here. 36, 5’10”, 178 lbs, lean, toned body. Nice cock for your hot mouth and throat. Would love to meet. Looking for someone who is into swallowing my cock juice. I’d like to see you on your knees looking into my eyes as you feel my cock pump a hot load down your throat.
I delete, going to the next email. Hey Deep Throat. I’m 5’11 black 195lbs with a nice 8.5 thick, fat cock for your mouth and throat. Private, very discreet. Married with family here. Cool, laidback guy. D/D disease free here. Need the same.
Although the email is two weeks old, I decide to send a reply, anyway. Hello there. If you are still looking to get sucked, I’m interested in sucking your thick, fat dick. If you can, send a pic. Thanks! Five minutes later an IM box pops up.
Ready2nutInU: Hey. What’s good? Got ya email. I sent pic
Deepthroatdiva: Hey back. Don’t C it in inbox, yet
When I hear, “You’ve got mail,” I minimize the IM box, then click on the new message. The second it opens I am immediately greeted with a pic of a beautifully curved dick with a mouthwatering, juicy head. My mouth starts to drool. I reopen the IM box and type.
Deepthroatdiva: Beautiful dick! It looks like it tastes good 2
Ready2nutInU: LOL. Thx! U wanna taste it 4 urself?
Deepthroatdiva: YES!
Ready2nutInU: what u look like?
Deepthroatdiva: sexy, classy-type. U’d never know I do what I do, the way I do it
Ready2nutInU: cool. Can u send a pic?
Deepthroatdiva: No. VERY, VERY discreet here
Ready2nutInU: Cool. U married?
Deepthroatdiva: engaged. What u look like?
Ready2nutInU: brown-skin, avg type cat. Low-cut fade. Luv my dick sucked
Deepthroatdiva: Nice
Ready2nutInU: u got webcam?
Deepthroatdiva: No
Ready2nutInU: Damn. Gotta go. Wife call’n 4 me. I go to gym @ 6am. Can we meet?
I blink, try to convince myself that this is not only a bad idea; it’s a dangerous one. However, I’m too caught up in the idea of sucking on his dick to see, think, clearly enough to tell this nigga no can do. Tell him that I’m engaged; that my man is in the next room; that I’m a little over two months’ pregnant. I am too blinded by lust to listen to the nagging voice in my head warning me, reminding me, that Jasper is home now. Instead, I assure myself that it’ll be the last time. That Jasper won’t find out. I tell him yes. Tell him I go to the gym as well; that I can meet him at seven. We decide to meet at Mountainside Park. We exchange car info. I tell him how I can’t wait to taste his fat dick; how I can’t wait to make love to it with my mouth, lips, tongue and hands; how I love to deep throat; how I am going to suck his dick in a way his wife never has. I tell him how I am fantasizing about being on my knees and worshiping his cock and swallowing his creamy load. He tells me how hard I’m making his dick; how he can’t wait to have it sucked; that his wife half-sucks it. I ask him if he’s ready to bust a fat nut from some good head and a deep throat. He types: HELL muthafuckn YEAH!
I am so caught up in the cyber-sex play that I don’t hear Jasper when he comes into the room. It isn’t until he walks up on me that he startles me. “Aye, yo,” he says, standing in back of me, “what you doin’ in here? Who you online talkin’ to this time’a night?”
I quickly click out of the screen. “Oh, hey,” I say, shutting my laptop. I get up and face him. He’s standing in front of me naked. “Umm, uh, I didn’t hear you get up.”
He studies me; narrows his eyes. “Yo, I asked you who the fuck you on the internet wit’?” I can see the veins in his neck starting to swell, which tells me if I don’t give him a suitable answer within the next few seconds there’s going to be major problem up in here.
I suck my teeth. “I was online with a rep from the bridal shop where I’m ordering favors for the wedding,” I tell him. I let the lie continue to roll off of my tongue. “Most online stores now have agents who will ask you if you need any help.”
He stares at me, clenching his jaws. “Why the fuck you online this time of night ordering shit, then?”
“Because, one, I can’t get anything done during the day when I’m down at the salon. And, two, sometimes you can find cheaper deals when you shop late at night.”
The vein on the side of his neck relaxes and he unclenches his jaw. “Show me the fucking website you were on then,” he demands.
I suck my teeth. Flip open the laptop, then wait for the screen to come alive. I click into my web server, then pull up a bridal site. I click on a few butto
ns, bring up my customer account number and show him my order. “Satisfied?” I ask. I step back so he can see for himself, hoping like hell it keeps his suspicions at bay.
“Yeah, aiight. Don’t let me find out some other shit, yo.”
“Some other shit like what, Jasper?”
“Like you tryna fuckin’ play me.”
I huff. “Here we go with this shit again. I don’t know why you always acting so paranoid.”
“’Cause I know how bitches can be.”
“You know what, I’m so sick of you saying that shit. If you feel like every bitch is on it like that, then we need to end this shit, now,” I storm past him, heading back into the bedroom. “You got the wrong one if you think I’m about to keep going through this with you. We need to call off this wedding and be done with this dumb shit. You go on about your business; take care of our baby and leave me the fuck alone. I’m done.”
“Yo, hold the fuck up,” he snaps, grabbing me by the arm.
I yank my arm away. “Get the fuck off of me, nigga.”
He blocks the doorway. “I’m not done talkin’, yo.”
“Well, I am. Now move the fuck out my way.” The only reason I’m talking extra greasy is because I’m pregnant and he’d never hit me while I’m carrying his seed. I try to push him out of the way, but he doesn’t budge. “Nigga, get the fuck out the way.”
“Aye yo, what I tell you ’bout ya mouth? You ’bout to get ya whole front knocked out, word up.”
I fold my arms across my chest defiantly. “Whatever. All I know is I’m sick of this shit with you.”
“Well, you need to get the fuck over that,” he says, eyeing me. “’Cause like I told you before, you ain’t goin’ nowhere, and neither am I. And now you havin’ my seed, it’s a wrap. You stuck wit’ me, baby. So watch ya mouth or get smacked in it.”
I grunt, placing my hands on my hips. “Mmmph. Well, if that’s so, then know this. I’ve rode shit out with you your whole fucking bid. I’ve waited for your black ass to get home, nigga. And don’t think for one fucking minute the shit was easy, because it wasn’t. The next bitch woulda been done bounced on you. But I stayed. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. So stop coming at me all aggressive and shit. I’m yours, nigga.”