When Somebody Loves You Back. Mary B. Morrison

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СКАЧАТЬ explained that to him when Darius’s ex-fiancée, Maxine, tested positive and he tested negative. Somethin’ about a viral load in the first few days. Whatever. Hopefully his results would fare the same. If not, how many women had he blasted off in? He’d lost count. Wasn’t his fault. They wanted what he’d given them—an opportunity to brag to their friends that Slugger was their best lover and how they’d fucked the shit out of a millionaire who was now an NBA-bound player.

      Damn, reflecting on the pussies he’d stroked, there really were too many females to track, trace, or remember names of, let alone faces, places, pussylicious tastes. Darius’s tongue got hard, sliding along his lips. “Umm.” Fancy’s honey-suckle milky soft pussy lingered as he inhaled. His mental palate always tasted her on his lips. Darius drew an imaginary outline along the bumpy tips of pretty Miss Kitty. “Um, um, um.” Ever so sweet, better than the most decadent dessert.

      Just use a condom, dawg. If Fancy questions why…lie. Better yet, don’t answer her: You’re the man, that’s your pussy, and she has the rock on her finger to solidify. Fuck! I see why so many people are infected. I got it. You’re a genius, man! Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Fuck her in the ass. Condom necessary. Explanation unnecessary. Darius would legitimately protect everybody’s best interest.

      Knowing he could’ve been positive didn’t give his morality a reality check. Darius had to die someday from something. Why not go out like a G, on top?

      Sex wasn’t everything. Sex was the only thing that mattered to Darius. To any man who was a real man. When Darius wasn’t getting his head straight-up waxed, he thought about busting nuts like that Thoroughbred that got paid a half million a pop. His sperm was priceless. Wham! Bam! Gotta go! Who invented that cuddling nonsense? Pillow talk? If his woman was too busy to fulfill her duties, another woman of his liking would do if she’d let him bang her a time or two. Now that he was a professional player, Darius’s new rule: a two-fuck maximum to minimize the drama.

      Sex. Master or slave? So powerfully tempting, made his legs weak before, during, and after orgasms. Don’t fight the feeling. Go on. Succumb to the cum. Do her. One better. Do you.

      Flawless beauty graced Fancy’s entire body. Perfect full lips. Supple, firm tits. Blemish-free skin. Tight phat ass. Unbeweavably long hair that tickled his dick. Great tone with the right amount of definition to accentuate her femininity. Other than his mother, Darius had never met a woman so obsessed with her appearance.

      Fancy was highly intelligent. Owned a thriving real estate firm. Plus, she was a self-made millionaire like his mom. For the first time Darius realized why he loved Fancy. Her beauty and self-determination reminded him of all the things he admired about his mother. Only difference was, Fancy couldn’t cook worth a damn. Thus, he’d have to hire a chef. Female, ’cause no nigga was hangin’ around his woman when he wasn’t home.

      The train of her gold gown sparkled, covering the limousine floor. Her lips puckered fractions of an inch from his dick, making Slugger harden into an aching throb. Darius imagined Fancy sucking him again until he exploded all over her face before waking her. Badly he had to moisturize her pussy with his creamy sperms. Could he think of anything other than sex? No. Not really. Nothing felt better than cumming.

      Lovingly massaging her scalp, Darius gently said, “Ladycat, we’re home.”

      Sleepily opening her eyes, Fancy sat up, stretching her arms across his face. “What was all that about?”

      “What?” Darius’s eyes shifted to the corners.

      “Don’t play me for stupid. Who’d you call?”

      “Call, who?”

      Frowning, Fancy stared at the house, then at Darius. “Did the lights just go out?”

      “No, I mean yes, it’s the timer,” Darius lied, feeling his dick slump between his shrinking balls. Exhaling, he said, “Wait right here.” Any reason to escape Fancy’s series of questions was welcome.

      Zipping his pants, Darius left his belt unbuckled just in case he had to whup ass. Cautiously he entered his home. “Ashlee?” he whispered.

      Darius searched the downstairs hallway, then trotted upstairs. Bypassing Ashlee’s old bedroom, he stopped, backed up, then slowly opened the door and hissed, “Ashlee? What the hell?” A wedding gown was on the bed. Darius closed the door, locking it from the inside first. Fuck! Ashlee wasn’t lying. That conniving crazy woman was somewhere in his house.

      “Ashlee!” he yelled this time. “I’m not going to play games with you! If you’re in my muthafuckin’ house, I’ma beat your ass, then call the cops, and have you arrested for breaking and entering!”

      The threat sounded good. No way in hell would Darius hit a woman. Ciara could’ve died from gashing her head after she pulled away from his embrace, slipped, then hit her head on the sharp edge of a table.

      The house was eerily quiet. Darius heard himself breathing heavily.

      Checking the remaining rooms, Darius returned to the limo. Hesitantly he escorted Fancy to the door. One hand braced her back, the other swooped under her legs as Darius carried his bride-to-be over the threshold, then kissed her lips before she opened her mouth. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I have to go check on someone, I mean something. You know where everything is. Um, make yourself comfortable.” Raising his voice, Darius continued, “I love you, Ladycat! I want you to stay here with me. Move in.”

      Fancy poked Darius’s side, then hugged him. “You’re so silly. I’m not deaf. Stop yelling.” Pulling him down to her, she pressed her lips tenderly along his neck, then on his ear. Juices trickled off her wiggling tongue into his eardrum. Another hot spot. “And just because we didn’t get married,” she said pinching his nipple, “doesn’t mean we can’t have honeymoon sex. Me-ow.” Fancy purred, licking from his chin to his cheek. “I wanna do the private dance I’ve practiced all month exclusively for my man.”

      Darius watched Fancy’s hips grind the number eight into the air, then into his heads. Pushing her away, he said, “Later,” then removed Fancy’s hands from his sizzling nipples.

      “Baby, this has been a long and hectic day, I need you to take the edge off Miss Kitty. And don’t think I forgot about your conversation in the car.”

      “Okay, tell me, what did you hear?” Right now starting an argument was better than fucking.

      Tilting her head down, batting her eyes up at him, Fancy pleaded, “I don’t wanna argue. Make love to me. I need to feel your dick inside here.” Massaging her clit, Fancy reached behind her back, then stood in the foyer peeling away her gown.

      Swaying like a tree in a gusty wind, Fancy caressed her breasts. Darius’s eye followed her hands’ movement. Sucking her fingers, touching her navel, twirling her pubic hairs, then spreading her pussy lips wide, invitingly she swiped between her thighs. Darius bit his fist as Fancy pasted a mustache of sweetness under his nose, easing her scented fingers into his mouth alongside his knuckles. Lusting to lick her protruding nipples, suck her engorged shaft, bury his face in her pretty money bag with a dollar-sign-shaped bush, then cum deep enough inside her to impregnate her again, Darius said, “Later. Not now. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” His love for Fancy refused to let him put her at risk ever again.

      “Well, I do too. Come on. Don’t make me take your magic stick,” Fancy protested, palming Darius’s stiff dick like a pitcher warming up on the mound.

      “Oh, СКАЧАТЬ