Between the Sheets (9781476775807) Page 2

  “Oh. I’m sorry. Is that better?”

  “True. What’s good…whom am I speaking to?”

  “Oh, hi. This is Ciara.”

  “Uh, ohhkay, Ciara; you giving out them deep throat specials or what? Talk to me, ma-ma.”

  She giggles. “Umm, not really. I mean, I’ve tried it a few times, but I’m not that good at it. I’m hoping someone will call in, so I can get some tips to help me get better at it.”

  “Aiight, baby. Hold tight. In the meantime, ma-ma, the best way to get them skills up is practice, practice, practice. The more dingdong you suck, the better you’ll get. So drop down ‘n’ get ya suck on, baby. And remember: No teeth. And use lots of spit. Next caller.”

  “Hey, MarSell.” She smacks in my ear. I frown. “This Quita aka Head Nurse aka Bobble Head aka Slurpy aka Prime Time Neck Work aka Deep Throat Diva, straight from Brownsville.”

  Damn, this dick-suckin’ ho gotta lot of nicknames. “Aiight, Quita. What’s good, baby…?”

  “This head game, boo. That’s all I like to do. I can suck a whole block ‘n’ still want more.”

  “Damn, baby. What, you gotta motor in ya neck?”

  She laughs. “Nonstop, no-gag, neck action. East New York! We go hard! Make a niggah nut quick. And what?”

  “Oh, aiight, aiight, baby. I ain’t mad atcha. How often you puttin’ in that neck work?”

  “If not every day, then at least three, four, times a week. And all weekend long. I like to throw head parties.” I blink. Ask her what that entails. She smacks and chews in my ear. “Oh, it’s where I rent a room ‘n’ invite like five to ten niggahs to come through ‘n’ we drink ‘n’ smoke, then I give ’em all the business.”

  Goddam! This freaky broad’s sucking dick all willy-nilly. “Oh, word? Aiight, aiight. You the neighborhood cock-washer then.”

  She smacks in my ear again. “Somethin’ like that. I just love suckin’ di—bleep.”

  “You swallow?”

  “Swallow?” she says indignantly as if I’ve offended her. “I’m a guzzler. Don’t get it twisted, bae. I’ma guzzler, baby. And what?”

  “Then suck on, suck on, ma-ma. Just know you can’t draw a pension down on ya knees. Next caller. You’re on the air with ya boy, MarSell.”

  “Yeah, this is Trixie, from Hillside.”

  “Oh, aiight. What’s good, Trixie. You givin’ head, baby?”

  She sucks her teeth. “No. I’m not doin’ none’a that nasty shit. And all y’all hoes out there drankin’ ‘n’ sloshin’ watermelon all around in your filthy mouths are all a buncha nasty-asses. Ratchet-ass tramps. Dic—bleep—suckin’ tricks. I hope you nasty bitches get throat cancer. All of you nasty whores going to hell in a gasoline hand basket.”

  “Whoa, whoa…slow down, mami. Yo, you gotta man?”

  “Yeah, why?” she says defensively. I ask her how long they’ve been rocking. She says three months. “What my man got to do with all them nasty dic—bleep—suckin’ hoes out there? He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  “Oh, you think? Well, good luck with that,” I say, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. It’s mind-boggling how there are many whack muhfuckas out there who still don’t/won’t suck dick or eat pussy. “Know this Trixie, baby. If you plan on keepin’ him, you had better learn to do some tongue tricks ’cause if you ain’t toppin’ him off, he’s eventually gonna be out getting it somewhere else. A wet mouth is a wet mouth. And you better hope it’s with another chick. Be well.”

  I hang up.

  “Yo, my freaky peeps, I’ma say this. Lonely has a face ‘n’ it’s a chick who ain’t suckin’ a dic—bleep. Next caller. You’re on the air.”

  “This is Wanda from Jersey City. I don’t know where you’re getting your callers from, but they definitely can’t be black.” I frown. Ask her why she says that. “Because no real black woman is sucking no dic—bleep all willy-nilly and reckless like that. I’m sorry. I don’t know not one black woman who loves giving head like that or who just goes around putting her mouth on some random man’s penis.”

  “Well, baby. Dingaling sucking is real. Sorry to hear you’re not surrounded by head doctors. Or maybe you are but they do what they do ‘n’ just ain’t telling you because they know how judgmental you are.”

  “I’m not judgmental. Trust. I just know that black women don’t suck unless they’re getting something out of it.”

  “Oh, but they are. They’re getting a hot juicy nut. But thanks for the Public Service Announcement, baby. Let’s keep hope alive. Next caller, you’re on the air…”

  “Hi, boo. My name is Sabrina, from Irvington.”

  “What’s good, Sabrina from Irvington…please tell me, you puttin’ in that throat work?”

  “All day every day, boo. My man stays sucked. And I’m a proud black sistah who loves cock ‘n’ cum. Mmph. You don’t know? You betta ask somebody. Them uptight bitches who ain’t sucking need to get up off them pedestals ‘n’ drop down on them knees ‘n’ get their bobble on. Sucking dic—bleep does the body good!”

  I chuckle. “I heard that, baby. So tell us. What is it about puttin’ in that mouth work that turns you on?”

  She moans. “Mmm. Everything about it turns me on. The way it tastes. The way it stretches in my mouth ‘n’ hits the back of my throat. I swear I love sucking my man. It ain’t even gotta be hard. If I see it, my mouth automatically starts watering. My man is real freaky like me. He loves his balls ‘n’ ass licked, too. And, trust. I do it all for my man. If I don’t satisfy him, somebody else will. And ain’t no other ho getting up on my man’s dic—bleep. All I’ma say is, I’m in love with making him come. It gets me soaked every time. And that hot, gooey nut oozing down my horny throat.” She makes smacking sounds as if she’s licking her fingers. “Hmph, hmph, hmmph. My man’s baby batter is finger-licking good, boo. Right down to the last hot drop.”

  I press my legs shut, licking my lips. “Yo, I heard that. That’s what it is. Sounds like you know how’ta suck the chrome off a tail pipe. Thanks for sharing, baby. Keep wavin’ that freak flag. Next caller.”

  “Lawd God, listen to the hooligan from Brownsville!” my next caller cries out in her thick West Indian accent. “No class! She brite to come on radio a chat like some kinda downtown sketel bam. Just pure unattractiveness. She just come sprawl out her likkle black self like ole stinking pussy jezebel mother of harlot, prostitute hog! Lawd God! She mud up fi dat.” Click.

  “Alrighty then, ma-ma. Tell us how you really feel. Next caller.”

  “Yo, I ain’t no chick. But I suck a mean dic—bleep.”

  This dumb muhfucka. I shake my head, leaning up in my seat. I said chicks call in. “Oh, aiigh, aiight. Where you callin’ from, bruh?”

  “Yo, this Thug Throat. I bet I can suck a dic—bleep—better than any chick out there. DL masculine freak niggah out in Paterson tryna link up wit’ them DL thug bulls to blow a Dutch wit’ ‘n’ suck da shit outta his dic—bleep—‘n’ lick up on them balls. Yo, you want dat wet sloppy head, come holla at ya boy!”

  “Yo, Hol’up, hol’up, Thug Throat. Drop the flag, bruh.” I smirk. “Next time you wanna place an Ad, go hit up Nastyfreaks4u.com, or the classifieds. Next caller.”

  The next chick that calls in, Precious, says she’s been with her man for almost two years and he hasn’t eaten her pussy once. Won’t even lick it. But she sucks his dick on-call. And she’s getting frustrated with him always making excuses as to why he won’t chow down on her cunt.

  “Damn, ma,” I say, shaking my head. “Sounds like you need a replacement, baby. Cat should be feastin’ on the cookie. His tongue, mouth, fingers working in sync to cause heat to flare all through ya body, baby. He should have you soaking them sheets ‘n’ the room should be flooded with moans ‘n’ the wet smacking sounds coming from his mouth as he tongues, slurps ‘n’ gulps in all them sweet juices.”

  She grunts. “Mmph. Well, there sure isn’t any slurping or gulping going on over here. And these sheets are dri
er than a sandstorm.”

  “I feel for you, ma-ma. My advice. Get you a real man. Real men eat the cookie. Next caller. You’re on the air with ya boy, MarSell.”

  “Ooooh, daddy,” the caller seductively coos into the receiver, “you sound like you really know how to please a woman. Can I borrow you for the night?”

  I chuckle. “Nah, beautiful. I’m flattered. But I don’t think my wife would approve of that.”

  “Ooh, as sexy as you are, she’s more than welcome to come along for the show, if you need a chaperone.”

  My dick jumps. I lick my lips, opening and closing my legs. Her voice is like honey, thick ‘n’ sweet. “Oh, word? What’s ya name, baby?”

  “Anonymous,” she says. “And I have a question.”

  “Oh, aiight, Miss Anonymous. What’s your question, baby?”

  “I wanna know how can I get a taste of you? I bet you got that good nut. I’ll come up to the radio station ‘n’ suck your dic—bleep—and swallow your nut under the table. I’m playing in my kitty now imagining you sliding your tongue all up in it. I love hearing your voice on the radio. I tune in every Thursday night. But this is the first time I got up the nerve to call in. You keep my coño wet.”

  “That’s what it is. Keep that thing soaked, baby. Thanks for the luv.” I disconnect the call. We go into a quick commercial break, then Kelly Rowland’s “Kisses Down Low” plays over the airwaves. Nina struts her fine-ass over to me, sliding her hips on the edge of my desk.

  “You have so many callers on hold, you might have to split the segment,” she says, licking her lips. My gaze locks on the way her pink tongue slides over her full, glossy lips. I lick my lips and grin. Nina’s fine as fuck. Although I’ve never given her a dose of this dick, I know she wants it. And she knows I know she wants. I’ve caught her eyeing it on many occasions. But, as sexy as she is, as enticing as her plump ‘n’ juicy made-for-dick-sucking lips are, I’d never stretch her neck out or beat the box up. One, I love my wife too much to ever cheat on her. Two, I don’t believe in shitting where I eat. And, three, Nina isn’t Marika’s type. So, nah, I’m good.

  “Oh, aiight. I’ll take a few more calls, then we can call it a wrap. We can do”—I slowly lick my lips, dropping my gaze down between her legs—“pussy eating next week. Is that cool with you?”

  She smirks, getting up and heading back to the booth. “Whatever you want, MarSell.”

  I grin. “Yeah. Daddy likes the sound of that.”

  She laughs, flicking a dismissive wave at me. “Whatever.”

  We’re back on the air in five…four…three…two…one…

  “Aiight, my freaky peeps. We’re back.” I tell ’em we only have time for two more callers and will pick up the other portion of this segment when I’m back on the air next week. “Next caller. What’s poppin’…”

  “Ooh, yessss, gawtdammit! Is this my sugah-boo, MarSell? Am I on the radio?”

  “True indeed. Turn down ya radio, love.” I shake my head.

  “Fuquan, turn down that radio, boo!” There’s a bunch of yelling in the background. “Fuquan! Don’t do me, gawtdammit! I said turn down that gawtdamn radio before I punch ya eye sockets in.” There’s more yelling, then she’s back on. “Okay. I’m back. Oooh, these bad-ass kids stay tryna do me. Is that better, sugah-boo?”

  I frown. “Yeah, you good. Who are you ‘n’ where you callin’ from, baby?”

  “Yes, Fahvergawd! This Cassandra Simms from Brick City, boo. Oooh, you do me right, gawtdammit! Every time I hear ya voice on the radio, you get my drawz real gooey. Yes, Fahvergawd! But y’all need to get y’all a new system ’cause I’ve been on hold for almost thirty damn minutes tryna get to you, sugah-boo. You coons done made me miss half the male revue down at The Crack House tonight.”

  I chuckle. “Whoa, whoa…pump ya brakes, baby. You got through now. So what’s good…you suckin’ the snot outta ya man or what?”

  “Ooh, niggah-coon, boom! You tryna be messy. And I don’t do messy. No, I ain’t suckin’ no coon-niggah’s snot. Well, not unless I gotta suck a lil’ dingaling for me a new handbag or some heels. Otherwise, my mouth don’t go on no wee-wee, sugah-boo. No gawd. But that ain’t why I’m callin’. So don’t do me.”

  I raise a brow. This ghetto-ass broad. “Oh, aiight, then get to the point, baby. Why you callin’?”

  She huffs. “I’m callin’ ’cause I wanna say somethin’ to that lyin’ bitch from East New York, Quita or whatever that lyin’ whore’s name is. Boogah-coon, boom! You better pop you a molly ‘n’ spark you a blunt ‘n’ get yo’ gawtdamn mind right. You ain’t the real deep throat diva, bitch.”

  I blink. “Damn, baby. Why you goin’ in?”

  “ ’Cause that bitch is a fraud. Yeah, she prolly neck gobblin’ the dingaling a mile a minute, but she ain’t the official cum whore, sugah-boo. She ain’t blowin’ no real bubbles outta no man’s ass.”

  “Oh, word? Then who is?”

  She grunts. “It ain’t that bitch.”

  “Aiight, Then if it isn’t her ‘n’ it isn’t you, then who is it, ma? You wastin’ my time, baby.”

  “Ooh, thick daddy, see you tryna be messy, boo, with yo’ ole tall, fine chocolatey self. And I don’t do messy. I ain’t gonna say her name on the radio, but if you been down to her salon, Nappy No More, then you know who she is. Now can I give a shout-out, boo?”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, aiight. Make it quick.”

  “Ooh, yes, Fahvergawd! I wanna give a shout-out to all’a my sponsors. Yes, gawd! Y’all been good to me. And I wanna give a shout-out to my homegirl Dickalina ‘n’ her retarded daughters, Candylicious ‘n’ Clitina. And my nine sons—Darius, Jah’Mel, Da’Quan, Marquelle, Joshua, Isaiah, Elijah, ‘n’ da bad-ass twins, Fuquan ‘n’ Tyquan, ‘n’ my nasty-azz daughter, Day’Asia. Day’Asia, you better not have no bloody drawz in that muthafu—”

  Yo, this broad’s shot the fuck out. Bloody drawz? Really? I disconnect the call. Ratchet-ass hoes. “Yo, my peeps, ratchet is what ratchet does. And that babe right there sounds like she’s the official walking definition for it. Anyway, my freaky listeners, it’s about that time. I don’t know what your plans are for the rest of the night, but ya boy gotta beautiful wife at home waitin’ for him to climb up in them sheets ‘n’ heat it up. Hopefully, you’re about to do the same. ’Til the next time, remember this: what you won’t do, someone else gladly will. And that’s real. Keep it sexy, keep it wet…always keep it ready. I’m out.”

  Silk’s “Meeting In My Bedroom” blares over the air as I hit the switch and remove my headset. I gather my shit, say my goodbyes, and hit the door, anxious to get home to my baby to slide this hard dick all up in her.

  THREE

  Marcel

  “Dance for me,” Marika says low ‘n’ sexy, pulling at her thick, dark nipples, pinching them between her slender, manicured fingers. Her juicy lips, glossed and painted with siren-red lipstick, are parted and wet. The thought of her hot mouth wrapped around my dick, staining it with her painted lips ‘n’ spit, causes me to lick my lips.

  Man, fuck. I love seeing lipstick ‘n’ spit smeared on my dick.

  I’m standing in the middle of our master suite, bare-chested and in a pair of Polo boxers, dick stretching down my thigh, hands on my hips, eyeing my sexy wife as she spreads her thighs and slides her hand down her smooth belly, over her distended clit, then letting her fingers trail the rim of her swollen pussy lips.

  I grin, dimples flashing deep in my cheeks. I can’t front. My dick’s getting harder than a muhfucka right now. I wanna fuck! I wanna nut! I wanna bust all up in my baby’s guts! But I know she wants me to seduce her. To give her a slow, sexy striptease while she gets off, giving me a show of her own.

  She smacks her clit. Her pussy puckers. Drips sweet honey as she runs her fingers over her clit, then smacks it again.

  Yo, I’ma spit you some real shit. I’m the luckiest muhfucka in this world. I bagged a real live dime. Hands down. I have a bangin’-
ass wife. Brains, beauty, and a bad muthafuckin’ body, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about. A freak on deck, my baby stays ready to rock in the sheets. And there’s nothing she won’t do to keep her man happy. But this shit’s a two-way street. And, real shit, whatever my baby wants, she gets. Hold up. Don’t get it twisted. I’ma real open-minded muhfucka, but I do have a few restrictions just as my baby has hers. And we respect each other’s boundaries. But everything else is a go. No questions asked.

  So when she sits here with her fingers toying with her clit and playing in her pretty pink slit and asks me to dance for her, a mufucka’s gonna dance.

  I knew my baby was a freak the moment I laid eyes on her spring semester at Howard, coming out of an AKA rush. It wasn’t anything she said or did or what I heard about her that told me she was a freak. It was the way she licked her lips. It was in her walk, the way her long, sculpted legs stepped one foot in front of the other. The way her pelvis thrust when she strutted, the way her hips swayed, the way her ass shook in that lil’ plaid Catholic schoolgirl skirt and her full titties bounced in her white low-cut blouse. She walked with a confidence that screamed, “I’m that sexy bitch! And this pussy’s good as fuck! Nigga, what?”

  No lie. My dick bricked up just from looking at her. And I wanted her…along with practically every other muhfucka on campus who was tryna get at her. But, I laid low, waited until after she crossed the burning sands, the following fall semester, then swooped in and made my move. But I didn’t have to put too much work in ’cause she’d been eyeing me as well. And you see where she’s at, right? Right where she’s always wanted to be. ’Nough said.

  I keep my gaze fixed firmly on Marika as her pussy swallows in her fingers. Her juices drip wetly down her hand. My dick throbs in my boxers. Tingles. Pulses. I’m ready to rip these muhfuckas off and pounce on my woman. Ready to slide between her thighs. Ready to kiss her pussy and slide my tongue to the back of her lips. Ready to catch the sweet waterfall of her goodness on my tongue. Ready to lave at her clit, slowly circling my tongue around it. Ready to press my lips tight into her. Ready to push my tongue deep inside of her. Ready to soak in her wetness. Ready to suck her dry of all her juices. Ready to taste how delicious she is. I’m ready, ready, ready! Oh, I’m sooo muthafuckin’ ready.