“What?”
He leaned over until his mouth was mere inches from mine. “You.”
When our mouths joined, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was just the beginning though. I wanted to feel the rhythm of his talented tongue on my other pair of lips. As if reading my mind, Tony pushed me back on the bed and began a slow descent from my mouth to my throat, then to my chest. He paused to show equal attention to both of my breasts and nipples. His hands were as busy as his tongue. One caressed my ass while he inserted three fing
ers of the other hand in me.
“Mmm…,” I moaned.
His mouth traveled down my stomach and finally to my flaming heat. He licked the fingers he took out of me one by one, then used his hands to lift my hips so he could have better access to the essence of me. He first licked each of my thighs, then kissed me between my legs before using his tongue to pleasure me in the most erotic way. “Ohh…Tony! Give it to me now!” He lifted his head long enough to push his boxers off and place his chocolate-colored dick at my pussy’s entrance. My femininity practically sucked him in.
“You feel so good, baby!” Tony said as he pushed and pulled in and out of me. He mumbled something, but it was said so fast, I couldn’t understand him. My vaginal muscles clenched him as a climax ripped me from my head to my toes. Before I could fully regain my composure, Tony had me on top, his mouth was fastened to my nipple, and his hands were around my waist, guiding me as I rode him up and down. “Shit! You feel amazing, Theresa! I’m about to cum, baby!”
“You call me baby like that again and I’ll be cumming with you.”
“Baby…baby…baby.”
“Cum with me, Tony!” I started moving up and down faster. He flipped me over and began riding me doggie-style. I could tell this was one of Tony’s favorite positions by how hard he rode me. He gripped my waist, licked my neck, bit my ear, and pulled my hair. I could feel the front of his powerful thighs smacking the back of my thighs. I also felt the familiar sensations of an orgasm.
“I’m there, Theresa! Cum with me, baby!”
I did. I felt Tony shoot his load all the way to my stomach. He practically collapsed on my back. He rolled over and pulled me on top of him. We covered ourselves with a sheet. A half hour later, Tony woke me up for another round. This time, I satisfied a craving I’d had since first meeting him. I licked him from base to tip and everywhere in between. I had his balls in my mouth as I masturbated him to give him double the pleasure. His dick was my chocolate ice cream cone, and I licked him like it was the Fourth of July.
The sexual trysts between Tony and me were amazing. I’d become a FANatic of his. Our appetite for one another was insatiable. He only ventured into his room for work clothes. Tony and I went to several events together. We went to movies and out to eat a lot. Occasionally I would surprise him at work. On Sundays we would attend church together. I could see myself changing for the better. I was no longer a fidgety little girl in church. When I felt myself become antsy, it was as if Tony knew and he would grab my hand. Mrs. Williams would catch my eye during service and flash me a knowing smile. I realized that she was happy for me. Tony was like a breath of fresh air in my life. We complemented each other. As much as we enjoyed going out together, we would have lots of fun relaxing in the living room watching television or playing cards or dominoes. Sometimes I’d lie across Tony’s chest and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. We would lounge on the couch and listen to ballads. Love ballads. I didn’t know how he felt about me, but I loved him. What had started out as lust, which had got fulfilled time and time again, had turned to love. Two weeks later, I found out how Tony felt about me, when he dropped to one knee in front of my church family and asked me to be his wife.
Now, six months later, I am Mrs. Theresa Winfield-Brown. We are currently expecting our first child, a daughter, whom we’ll name…Katrina.
The Hard-Boiled Dick
Chris Hayden
Sam was cheatin’!
No ’bout a doubt it! He was creeping home at funny hours, getting up to leave in the middle of the night, coppin’ ’tudes about nothin’, slinking around the house when he was home looking like a mangy old mutt who had been caught in the garbage, and generally slippin’ so badly that he was even forgetting to scrub the smell of his outside bitches off him before he came to bed!
How could he? LaTisha had always been the good and faithful wife! She resolved to put it to him righteous—but she needed proof!
A coworker suggested that she retain the services of a private investigator.
Sharpetta Kensington, P.I., had a posh office in an upscale part of town, but when LaTisha saw her—playin’ a “Hell up in Harlem” black fedora (broke down gangsta-style), a butchy black pin-striped pants suit, some come-fuck-me pumps with stiletto heels—sitting with her feet up on her desk reading a racing form and smoking a cigarillo like a young Samantha Spade, LaTisha started to kick her to the curb.
During the interview, Sharpetta tossed off an impressive list of credentials, cases solved, and clients served.
“Make no mistake about it, I’m an ace dick,” she said.
“Excuse me?” LaTisha said.
“That’s slang for ‘expert detective,’” Sharpetta explained. “I’m worth every dime, I ga-ron-tee.”
Still harboring some misgivings, LaTisha cut her a check for five thousand dollars, her initial retainer.
A couple of weeks later, early one afternoon, the “ace dick” summoned LaTisha to her office.
“Mrs. Jenkins, yo’ man is a dirty bird,” Sharpetta announced.
LaTisha shouted, “Wait till he gets home tonight! I’ll—”
“Chill. You need to catch him in the act.”