The Man Handler Page 5

  Bottom line: No matter what her hole looks like, I believe all women should love their pussies. Admire their pussies. Be proud of their pussies. Never forsake their pussies. Never be afraid to look at their pussies. And most importantly, be in control of their pussies. No one should ever rob a woman of her freedom (of her right) to deny someone access to her pussy. Yes, dammit! Women from all walks of life should unite in their femininity, celebrate their womanhood, and behold the essence of their pussies. We are women. We are one. We are good pussy.

  I am so deep in my musings over pussy that I don’t even hear Garrett step into the shower until his voice slices into my thoughts. I return the shower head to its resting place.

  “You know I enjoy spending time with you,” he says, taking his strong hands and massaging my shoulders, then replacing his hands with kisses. I hand him my washcloth and the bar of soap so that he can wash my back.

  I take a deep breath, hold it in, then slowly release it under the stream of warm water beating against my face. I turn to face him and begin washing the front of his body without saying a word—starting with his chiseled chest, massaging his nipples, before trailing down to his smooth abs lined by fine hair around his navel. He stands in front of me, allowing my hands to explore his body. He licks his lips as I make my way down to his semi-hard dick. I take it in my soapy hands and lather it up, stroking it until he hardens and thickens. When it swells to its capacity, I rub it between the palms of both of my hands as if I’m rubbing two sticks together, then slide my slippery hands up and down the length of it, twisting and turning my hand over the head of his dick like I’m turning a doorknob.

  He moans. “Damn, baby…oh, shit…”

  I keep my eyes locked on his, giving him a variety of hand-work. From stroking his dick from the top to the bottom with one hand, then releasing, bringing my other hand to the top, then repeating, alternating with both hands; to grabbing his balls with one hand and lightly pulling as I stroke him with the other. This gets him off all the time.

  “Aaah, fuck…oh, shiiiiit,” he moans again.

  His eyes open and close, then roll in the back of his head.

  “That’s right, daddy, give me that dick milk,” I coo. “Bust that big nut in my hand.”

  He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, then kisses me softly on them. “Why you fucking with me?” he asks, dipping at the knees.

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?” The way he is looking at me is making my temperature rise. I can feel my boiling juices trickling down my inner thighs.

  “You know what you’re doing, girl,” he says.

  I smile, knowing if there was a condom in here with us, he would have ripped it open, rolled it over his dick, then turned me around, slammed me up against the wet tile, and relentlessly fucked me from the back. Garrett is the type of man who can’t stand having his dick hard and not being able to bury it inside of me. Stroking and sucking his dick is good, but he’s the kind of man who will eventually want the pussy. It’s sweet, hot, and tasty, and he’s gonna want it to wet his dick. But he knows there’s a line that doesn’t ever get crossed, and that’s him fucking me without a condom. Since there are no condoms around us, he will settle for a soapy hand job. Although I enjoy living on the edge, I will not compromise my health by playing Russian roulette with him or any other man. Now, some may say that that’s what I’m already doing with the number of men I fuck. They’re entitled to their opinions. But I consider it doing what I enjoy doing responsibly. So we can agree to disagree.

  Anyway, I suppose if I ever did decide to have a man (of my own) in my life, the one advantage would be not having to use a condom. ’Cause, honestly, I don’t like using them. But like I said, I refuse to jeopardize my health by fucking without one. So if he ain’t strapped with a Durex, then there’s no sex. That’s the only condom that feels like he’s using nothing. I will say, it sure would be nice to get fucked in the ass the way I like. Straight up raw. I love to feel a man nut in my asshole. There’s something about feeling his dick throbbing inside of me as his cum is spurting out and into my tight hole, filling it up with his thick, hot cream, then it starts oozing out as I use my muscles to push it back out. Mmm. I can almost feel it running down the crack of my ass as I speak. Oooh, baby, and to be able to swallow a man’s gooey nut would be a delicious treat. Yep. It sure would. The thought of a nigga’s hot love custard hitting the back of my throat has my mouth drooling.

  However, the way so many men are out here creeping on their wives and girls, it’d be my luck that my man would end up being one of those cheating-ass niggas like the ones I already fuck. And the risk of him getting sloppy and bringing me something home…oh, hell no! I’d rather be fucking who I want, and know I have to protect myself, than have a man I think I can trust, who I believe is respecting our relationship, and he’s out behind my back sticking his dick in the next chick.

  So tell me. Who’s the one really at risk, them or me?

  Garrett kisses me again, bringing me back to the reason I’m holding his dick in my hand. “I love this big dick,” I tell him, stroking his dick—and his ego—faster, and harder, kneading it and twisting my hands over the head of it. “It feels so good in my hands.”

  “Oh yeah, you love that dick, baby?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I moan. “Bust that nut for me.”

  “Yeah, you want this nut…you want this nut, huh? Huh?” I spread open my legs as he reaches over and slides his hand between my thighs. His fingers find their way to my treasure chest and toy with its opening, causing my pussy to clamp around each finger. I increase my strokes on his dick as he increases his strokes against my clit and inside of me. Within a matter of moments we are each shuddering and exploding into the other’s hands.

  “What you trying to do to me?” he asks, kissing me on the lips again.

  Now between you and me, this kissing between us has really gotten out of hand. And I am still trying to figure out how in the hell what Garrett and I share—umm, let me see—how it has evolved from strictly fucking to fucking and kissing. But it has. That wasn’t supposed to be a part of the equation, but somehow over the last year it has found its way into it; probably because of him being in my bed as many times as he has over the last three years. It seemed to happen all of a sudden. Come to think about it, I allow Maurice to kiss me as well, most likely for the same reason. Hmmm, then there’s Wade who tongues me down too.

  I shrug, half-smiling. “Nothing you don’t want me to,” I offer, turning around to face the shower head. I rewash myself, then step out of the shower, leaving Garrett to finish his shower.

  Twenty minutes later, I am sitting downstairs on the sofa in my silk robe, waiting for Garrett to come downstairs. When he does, I get up and walk him toward the front door. “As always,” I say, opening the door, “thanks for the dick.”

  He smiles. “It’s all yours anytime you want it.”

  Of course it is, I think, returning the smile. I know I can fuck Garrett seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day if I wanted to. But I don’t. However, lately, it seems like I’ve been riding his dick at least two, sometimes three times a month, if not more. “It was good seeing you,” I say, dismissing his comment.

  “It was good seeing you too, baby,” he says, stepping into me and kissing me on the forehead. “I’ll call you later. Maybe—”

  I reach up on my tippy-toes and shove my tongue in his mouth to cut off what he is about to say: “Maybe I can come by later on tomorrow.”

  “No, I don’t think so” will end up being my response if he says it, so I kiss him before he has the chance to. As much as I enjoy spending time with Garrett, I only want to see him once in a while, meaning once every few months. Seeing me more than once in the same week starts to look like something more than what it is and I’m not interested.

  “Call me,” I finally say, stepping back from him, then opening the door wider. It is his cue to bounce, and he takes it.

  “Good night, baby,”
he says, walking out the door.

  “Good night,” I say, shutting the door behind him. I press my back up against it, then close my eyes, hoping Garrett isn’t crazy enough to start catching feelings.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Question: Have you ever wondered what’s really in a man’s nut? I read somewhere that a man’s cum is ten percent sperm, and the rest is enzymes, vitamin C, calcium, protein, sodium, zinc, citric acid, and fructose. Hmmm…now, if this is true, then I’d say this is the makings of a wonderful, rich protein shake. Imagine a thick, gooey, hot, and creamy nut first thing in the morning, sliding down your throat. Hmmm…delicious! What a way to start your day. Wouldn’t you agree?

  Oh well, it’s been so long since I’ve swallowed a nut. I’d probably throw it back up if I even tried to. Speaking of cum, how many women do you think enjoy having a man crack his nut on her face? Hmmm. That would make for an interesting survey. Well, I tried it once, about six years ago. I was on my knees feverishly sucking the hell out of an ex-boyfriend’s dick when he asked me if he could nut on my face. He got to stroking and yanking and pumping his dick in his hand, and talking real dirty. The sight of the head of his dick sliding in and out of his hand sent a fire through me. I begged him for that nut, waited with anticipation to feel his cream on my face. He deepened his strokes, slowed his rhythm, and a blast of white gook shot out of the slit of his dick straight into my damn eye. Ugh! It was so hot and thick. I screamed, thinking the fool had blinded me. I got up scrambling, tripping over shit trying to get to the bathroom to wipe my eye. Seemed like I smeared it deeper into my eye and made it worse. My vision was cloudy for almost two hours afterward. I was so damn disgusted. The idea of having cum dangling from my nose, on my eyelashes, or in my eye isn’t exactly an exciting thought. So, no thank you. He can shoot his load on my back, on my stomach, my titties, or my ass. And if he’s my man—something I haven’t had in a very long time—I want him to pull out and nut on my pussy, then smear it with his dick all over my clit. Or he can bust deep in my ass. Then again, he can pull out and let me suck it out of him. Mmmm. There’s nothing tastier than a dick soaked in pussy juice.

  For some reason, I am having a flashback moment. I am remembering years ago riding the Greyhound bus late at night to D.C. from New York to visit my brother Terrance at Howard for their homecoming. I was like seventeen, and this older dude was sitting in the back row of the bus with me, drinking a forty ounce. I don’t remember exactly how we started talking, but by the time we had crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge, I had his long dick in my hand and was jerking him off. I didn’t ask him his name, and didn’t give him mine. The only thing I wanted to know was how thick and hot his cum was. I remember pulling out my bottle of baby oil, pouring it all over his dick and in my hands, then rubbing his dick between the palms of my hand as if I were rubbing two sticks together. In swift, deep motions, I went up and down the shaft of his dick, stroking him from the top to the bottom, then releasing, bringing my other hand to the top of his dick, then repeating, alternating with both hands. He begged me to suck it, so I flicked my tongue over the head, just enough to tease him. And, before his dick was about to spit, it swelled to maximum capacity, then spurted out a hot, thick nut. I knew then I was at a point of no return. I was hooked on dick cream.

  Anyway, Tyrese is here, standing in the middle of my bedroom floor, with his dick in his hand, stroking it for me. I lean back on my left forearm, spread open my legs, and rub my clit over my thong. Me’shell Ndegeocello’s “Trust”—from the album Cookie: The Anthropological Mixtape—is playing in the background. The title is so unfitting for his cheating-ass since he can’t be trusted, but the words say what I want. “…Lay me down…Spread my legs…tell me…what’s it like…inside me…Let me stroke you with my warmth…make you cum…”

  The song is sexy, and sitting here watching him stroke his fat dick makes my pussy cry out for a taste of passion. I gesture with my index finger for him to come to me. He slowly moves toward me. I smile, taking in his nude body. The male anatomy deeply fascinates me. Every man I’m with, I make it a point to examine every part, every inch, of his body. I love making him strip down and prance around naked. Without him even knowing it, I am taking him all in from head to toe. And I’m always amazed at the different shapes, sizes, and colors of dicks there are. There is also a wide variety of balls. Loose balls, tight balls, hairy balls, hairless balls, and those extra-long, bull balls. Mmmmm. The thought of a man’s dick and balls gets me hot. I can play in my pussy and imagine all the different types of dick attached to a man’s body, and cum all over my fingers. I think this is why I constantly crave variety. This is why I lust for dick.

  But please don’t get it twisted. My fascination with watching a man undress himself and taking in all of his nakedness is also about being able to see whether or not he has any abnormalities, scars, blemishes, bruises, discolorations, lesions, leakage, etc. When I take his dick in my hands and slowly stroke him into a throbbing erection, I’m not only doing it to bring him pleasure; I’m doing it as part of my cock inspection. Hell, I need to be up close and damn personal with his dick to see what’s really good before I go any further.

  This is Tyrese’s fifth time being here, and I still inspect the dick to make sure there are no changes from the last time he was here. He steps up in front of me. His dick is thick and rigid and heavy and excited, its tip already leaking sweet, sticky strands of pre-cum. I get off the bed, sink down to my knees on the floor, and take it into my hands, squeeze it at the base, then lift up his balls and gently squeeze and bounce them in the palm of my hand. Then I run my thumb over the slit of his dick, rubbing his lust over the head. Once again, he passes my inspection.

  “You like playing with daddy’s big dick, don’t you?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I moan, licking my lips. Now, I don’t actually consider his dick big, but I indulge him nonetheless. I mean it is fat and all, but measuring in at seven-and-a-half inches doesn’t exactly qualify as “big” in my book. Nevertheless, it is meaty, and definitely a beautiful, mouthwatering piece. I look up at him, then kiss and bury my face into his groin. The coarseness of his pubic hairs tickles my nose. I inhale his scent, taking in his manliness. I cup his balls, kiss them, then slowly lick them, wetting them with my spit. I use my free hand to play with my clit.

  “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Wet daddy’s balls up. Mmm…Oh, shit.”

  I replace my tongue with my fingers and fondle his balls, tracing a slow sensual path over and behind the heavy sacs. In my head, I’m pretending to be Tyrese’s personal dick sucker: soothing him, relieving him, sucking away his stress, enveloping and riding his dick with wet lips and a warm tongue, flicking, tickling, and probing all around and over it. Swallowing him down into a deep, pulsing throat, contracting around every inch of his dick like a boa constrictor, squeezing his thick dick in a vice-like grip until it spasms, convulses, and erupts a tidal wave of hot foaming cum. Mmmmm. My imagination causes me to let out another deep moan.

  “You want me to wet this dick up?” I ask, looking up at him in between licks along the shaft of his hot dick. The eye of his dick continues to leak a stream of clear, sticky nectar. I will myself not to run my tongue over it, but, despite myself, I give in to temptation and lap at its slit, savoring the stream of sweetness.

  “Yeah, I want a wet, sloppy dick suck, baby.” He reaches for my breasts and fondles them. Pinching my nipples, he causes the milk from my pussy to explode onto my fingers and run down my hand.

  “Go lie down in the middle of the bed,” I order him. I get up from my knees and suck my cum-soaked fingers as I watch Tyrese walk over to the bed. I take in the back of his heart-shaped calves, admire his muscled thighs, and amazing ass.

  Tyrese stretches out in the center of my bed, waiting to get his dick wet. He sneaks his ass over to get piped every chance he gets—when I allow it—because his girl is scared to suck his dick. Matter of fact, she doesn’t even like sucking it, and when she does, it’s onl
y for a few minutes, before she complains about her jaws being tired. The last time she did it, he claims she ended up throwing up all over his dick. Humph. Lame-ass! That shit is so fucking whack! Who in the hell doesn’t suck dick in the twenty-first century? Humph.

  Well, obviously, that bitch sure as hell doesn’t. So, every now and again, when I feel up to it, I suck him all the way down to the base while licking his balls and let him get his nut, then send him back home to his non-dick-sucking whack-ass “wifey” with my pussy juice smeared all over his face and thick lips.

  Tyrese strokes his dick as he watches me suck on my fingers. Now listen up. The key to sucking a man’s dick is seducing him mentally first, then sucking him like you love him. Fuck his mind, make love to his dick. Stroke his ego, and worship the dick. That’s my strategy. And it generally works. Every time he sees you or hears your voice, he’ll think about how good you sucked down his cock. In the still of the night, when he’s lying next to his woman, his dick will brick up thinking about your head game. He’ll be wondering when (and how) he can get you to wrap your soft lips around his shit again. Trust me. Nine times out of ten, his chick isn’t doing it right or doing it at all, as in Tyrese’s case. And for the record, there’s not a man yet who hasn’t begged me to suck him again once he’s experienced this bottomless throat.

  “Yeah, daddy, just like that. Stroke that fat cock for me.”

  “You like watching me stroke this big dick, don’t you? You want me to slam this fat dick in your pussy?”

  “Yessss, daddy,” I coo, turning around and pulling open my ass cheeks, giving him a rear view of my pussy. “Look how wet you got this pussy.” I reach between my legs and slide two fingers into my love nest, winding and thrusting my hips. I glance over my shoulder to see him stroking his cock a mile a minute. “I’ma suck that dick so good. Ooh, I can’t wait to suck that big dick,” I tell him, turning back to face him, slowly making my way over to the bed. “I want you to wrap your hands around my head and shove it all the way down my throat. I want you to pump and grind your cock down in my throat. Fuck my hot throat like it’s a pussy. I want you to watch your dick get lost in and out of my neck. Can you do that, daddy?”