I grunted, and jerked, my flapping balls boiling over. I bit into Monique’s tongue and clamped down on her nipples, blasting inside the babe, spurting to the jolting rhythm of my orgasm. She shivered in my arms and screamed into my mouth, feeling every bit of what I was feeling in white-hot rushes.
Or maybe not.
Returning to my hotel room, I found the door ajar, the closet unlocked, my two sample cases full of pearls, diamonds, and gold jewelry gone. There was a scent of perfume in the air. I looked over at the window across the way—dark.
The shadow dancer had lured me away from my precious inventory so her girlfriend could rob me. Our triple-X tango behind the shade had merely been the signal for timing the heist.
But even the sneak-thief had still made time to leave behind a sticky squirt of her own enthusiasm on the carpet, no doubt after watching Monique’s magnificent performance.
The bitches.
Keeping Him
Cynthia Marie
Dasia lay across her bed, exhausted. Another day had come to an end and the twins were sleeping soundly. Whoever said being a stay-at-home mother was easy and anyone who felt differently were truly fucked up in the head. Dasia was looking forward to her weekly outing tomorrow, just to get a break from her boring-ass life.
Once a popular news anchor for WSB-TV in Atlanta, Dasia met Stephen Anderson when he pulled her over for a speeding ticket. Afterward, they were inseparable and after two years of dating, they married at twenty-five. Their life was good until, nine months after their first anniversary, a set of twin boys made their debut. In an attempt to allow Dasia to be what she felt was a good mother, the couple decided it was best for her to quit her job and care for the kids until they were school-age.
Dasia missed the excitement of her life and career. She loved her boys, but neither she nor Stephen was prepared for the drastic change in their lives. No more weekend getaways, spontaneity, alone time, sleeping late, and no more bomb-ass sex. Dasia was self-conscious about her body. Not only were her breasts constantly leaking and her stomach was no longer taut, she was concerned that two seven-pound babies had stretched her pussy out and Stephen wouldn’t be satisfied. She refused to let him see her naked for fear that he wouldn’t see her the same way as before and it became a sore spot in their marriage. For the past four months, their lives revolved around the babies but neither wanted to address how they were feeling.
Dozing off, Dasia stirred when she heard her bedroom door close. Her eyes fluttered and her husband’s body came into full view.
“Hey, bay,” she greeted him, sitting up on her elbows and yawning.
“Hey.” Stephen looked at his wife and saw that, as usual, she wore a pair of his sweats and her hair was wrapped.
“How was your day?” Dasia watched him remove his artillery and undress. Stephen’s hard work had gotten him promoted to the fugitive recovery team and he always shared funny stories.
“Same ole, same ole. Ran up on a lot of folks tonight who missed their court dates. Had to remind them and put them in time out,” he joked.
Dasia laughed.
“We even ran up on some hookers who were too bu
sy working to go to court.” He finished unfastening his bulletproof vest and flung it over the chair.
“Hookers, huh?”
“Yeah. You’d never believe the kind of shit they’d do to avoid going to jail.”
“Did someone do something to you?” She glared at him, wondering if he’d tell her the truth.
He caught the sarcasm in his wife’s voice but didn’t feed into it. He didn’t want to tell her that he was close to letting one of the chicks blow him as her get-out-of-jail-free card. She definitely wouldn’t have understood. Things at home were tense and the couple hadn’t been intimate since the twins were born. Stephen loved his wife but felt like she didn’t have time for him. Because he loved her, instead of cheating, he worked longer and harder.
“No, babe.” Kicking off his shoes and pulling off his pants, he changed the subject because he knew where it would lead. “How was your day?”
“Besides changing diapers and being a human milk machine, I was able to make dinner for you. It’s in the microwave.”
“I ate earlier. I realize that you’re busy so I didn’t want you to do anything extra just for me.”
“Stephen,” she huffed, “I don’t mind but you could have called.”
Standing in front of her in his boxers, he looked at his wife. “I’m sorry and you’re right. Well, maybe I can make it up to you.”
Dasia looked at his crotch and saw an erection. “Hmm . . . maybe.” She smiled. He still turned her on, and she wanted nothing more than to please her man, but was afraid of what he’d think.
Stephen knew that any chance of making love to his wife was damn near impossible, but he was going to try. With anticipation, he trotted off to the bathroom for a quick shower but his anticipation turned to frustration when he returned. His wife was curled up on her side of the bed, asleep.