Big Juicy Lips

Dear Reader:

It is my pleasure to present yet another engrossing novel from bestselling Allison Hobbs. Hobbs is the author of
The Climax, A Bona Fide Gold Digger, The Enchantress, Double Dippin’, Dangerously in Love, Insatiable
and
Pandora’s Box
; all published by Strebor Books. A “Queen of Erotic Fiction” in her own right, Hobbs now puts a new spin on her previous works by taking her talent to the next level in
Big Juicy Lips
.

Get ready for the dramatic ride of a lifetime as you enjoy this loosely based sequel to
Double Dippin’
in which a young lady decides that controlling men is the most powerful high. But when the men comply, it turns into a deadly game of lust and despair. Chocked full of surprises, you will not be able to put this book down after the very first page.

I first met Allison at the Baltimore Book Festival several years ago and was immediately impressed with her talent. Not everyone has a natural writing ability, but Allison was born to create masterpieces like the one you are about to read. She is ever positive and determined, much like myself, and will go far in this industry as her next three books are already scheduled for publication.

Thanks for supporting Allison’s efforts and for supporting my imprint, Strebor Books. I am overwhelmed by the legions of avid readers who genuinely appreciate not only my personal work but the works of the dozens that I publish. For a complete listing of titles, please visit www.streborbooks.com

If you are interesting in making extra income, please email [email protected] to be sent an “Opportunity” packet. Now sit back in your favorite chair or, better yet, chill in the bed, and be prepared to be tantalized by yet another great read.

Peace and Many Blessings,

Zane

Publisher

Strebor Books International

www.simonsays.com/streborbooks

Five years have passed since the publication of my first novel. Now, eight books later, I’m as thrilled and as grateful as I was the first time I saw my name on a book cover. Still, I’m very much aware that the angels who’ve touched my life in a number of ways have all had a hand in making this writer’s life such an amazing journey.

So, here’s a shout-out to all my sistahgurl/angelfriends:

Karen Dempsey Hammond, Shari Reason, Aletha Dempsey, Chanelle Sealy, Elysha Perry, Charmaine Parker, Tandace Wilson, Tina Brooks McKinney, Jessica Holter, Janet Stevens Cook, Kimberly Kay Terry, Radiah Hubbert, Tiffany L. Smith, Michelle Coates, Locksie, Anna J, and of course, my publisher and friend, Zane.

“I
wonder if those creams really work.” Misty trailed a finger over Brick’s soft penis, trying to caress the sagging appendage back to life.

Lying on his back, his head resting on his clasped palms, Brick jerked himself upright. “What kind of cream?”

“Stay-hard cream,” she said nonchalantly, knowing Brick would become incensed.

“What the hell do I need that for?”

“It’s supposed to make you stay hard…last longer.” Misty sighed, withdrew her finger, clearly giving up on any hope that Brick would become erect.

“Cut that shit!” Brick scowled, further distorting his face, which was already disfigured by a cruel scar that ran jagged from his hairline down to his chin. “I pounded on you for two straight hours—killing that pussy. But I held back, didn’t bust ’til after you did.” Brick gave Misty a look of disbelief. “What? You expect my jawn to stay hard for two, three days?” Brick gave a little chuckle, but the sound lacked mirth. “Come on, Misty, stop being so greedy. I gotta get some sleep.” Brick rolled over on his side. He pulled the top sheet over his mountainous body and also over his head. His back, broad and hard as granite, was turned stubbornly toward Misty.

“You claim you love me, but you’re so selfish, sometimes!” Being spiteful, Misty plucked Brick in the back of his sheet-covered head.

“Stop frontin’; you know you got yours,” Brick mumbled, his face buried in the pillow.

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t get shit; I faked it! I knew you were tired, so I faked it so you could bust, rest up and start all over again. I didn’t think you’d lay your selfish ass down and try to get your snore on.” Growing more resentful by the minute, Misty swatted Brick with her pillow.

He threw the sheet off his head. “Stop lying. After all these years, you think I don’t know when your lil’ ass is faking?” He flung the pillow she’d hit him with, but used much more force than he’d intended. The sound of the thumping sound made by the pillow, as it connected with Misty’s face, resonated inside the bedroom.

Misty’s mouth dropped open, stunned that Brick had hit her. It didn’t matter that it was just a playful smack of a pillow and that no real harm had been done. She was furious at his audacity. The five-foot, one hundred and five-pound little dynamo pummeled Brick’s hard-as-concrete arm and shoulder, but quickly realized that he barely felt the blows from her small fists. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?” she yelled and then, using all her strength, she elbowed him as viciously as she could.

Brick laughed and said, “Ow! I might need an ambulance.”

Misty rubbed her cheek. “I don’t see anything funny about a big-ass man whipping my ass and leaving welts all over my face.”

“Whipping your ass? Is that what you gon’ tell the po-po?” He laughed even harder, his loving eyes adoring her, despite her fury.

“It’s not funny, Brick! My face feels like it’s starting to swell up.”

Brick sat up. His unattractive, scarred face was frowned in confusion and concern. “I didn’t mean to throw the pillow that hard. Misty, baby. I’m sorry, aiight?”

“No! It’s not aiight. You threw that jawn like it was a football; acting like you Donovan McNabb or somebody.”

Gently, the giant of a man pulled Misty’s small, delicate hand away from her face. With increased concern, he scrutinized the right side of her undeniably beautiful face and then he inspected the left side. “It’s aiight, Misty. Ain’t no marks,” he said, genuinely contrite. “I didn’t mean it. You know I forget my strength. I’d hurt myself before I’d put a mark on your pretty face.” Involuntarily, his hand touched the gruesome, jagged scar on his face, taking both him and Misty back to the dreadful night it happened.

Shaking away the memory, Misty refused to dwell on the past. “You gotta stop playin’ all the time. If it wasn’t for me—the way I look—we couldn’t make any money. Shit, we wouldn’t get in all those clubs for free or nothing.” Misty sighed, giving Brick a look of disgust. Suddenly, she grimaced and clutched her stomach.

“What’s wrong? Did I go too far up in you?”

“No,” she uttered in a pained, raspy whisper. “Cramps.” She bent at the waist and commenced to rock and moan softly.

The worry lines that intermingled with his jagged scar made Brick appear more grotesque than he actually was. “I didn’t know you had cramps. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were acting all sleepy and everything, so I was going to try to get you in the mood—trying to get you aroused.”

Brick’s eyes saddened. “Misty, baby, why’d you let me fuck you so hard if your stomach was hurting?”

“It wasn’t that bad, yet.”

“So, why you have to come at me all shady, pretending that you were horny? If I banged you again, you’d be in worse pain.” He looked in her eyes intently. “You gotta let me know, when you feeling bad. It don’t matter how tired I am, I’d never go to sleep and leave you laying awake, in pain. And you know it.” His voice rose in anger.

“I said that I’m sorry for not telling you, so stop yelling. That’s not making it any better.” Annoyed, Misty sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Can I get something off of my chest?” he asked, voice lowered.

She nodded, her expression becoming increasingly pained.

“Why you got so much game, Misty? You be trying to get over when you don’t even have to?”

Misty smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Brick. You know that I have a big problem with honesty.”

“I know.” Brick caressed her silky hair. “It’s all good, though. You were a born scam artist. Real talk; your game is tight. But you act like you in this by yourself.” He shook his head. “I’m on your side. How many times I gotta prove myself? I’m ride or die.” Brick nodded emphatically.

“I know you’re on my side, Brick,” she said, and tenderly traced his scar with her fingertip, silently acknowledging the sacrifice he’d made for her.

“This is our crib,” Brick went on. “This is where you rest your head at night. When you come home, you gotta leave all the game at the door.”

Pretending remorse, Misty lowered her head, while Brick continued to adoringly run his fingers through her long hair. Misty spoke softly. “I hear what you’re saying, but don’t get it twisted. I like you and everything, but there ain’t nothing but larceny in my heart. That’s how I keep us living good. My brain is working overtime, always figuring out new ways to scam mufuckas. I don’t have time for that lovey-dovey shit. Feel me?”

He nodded, head bowed in sorrow.

“Don’t take it personally, Brick. It’s hard doing what I do,” she said, pouting.

“I know, I know.” Brick raised his head, reached up and massaged Misty’s shoulders.

“And tonight…dealing with all this pain—” She winced and pressed her hands against her stomach. “I can’t think straight. Brick, you gotta make a run to the store. Get me some Midol for these cramps.”

“Midol! You don’t need that! Whatchu think you got me for? I got the best remedy for your cramps.”

“Well, do something. I’m in pain,” she whimpered, biting her lip as if fighting unbearable agony.

Brick repositioned Misty, pulled her to the edge of the bed, allowing her legs to dangle. He bent low and crouched between her thighs.

Misty shivered when she felt Brick’s rough facial hairs scrape against her thighs. “I’m sorry for lying to you, Brick,” she murmured, speaking in the fake, tiny voice she used on tricks, Brick, and her mother to get what she wanted.

She could feel Brick’s semen starting to bubble outside her pussy, slowly saturating her pubic hairs.

“Hold up,” he said. “I’ll get a washcloth and clean you up.”

“Ow!” she blurted and rubbed her stomach frantically.

Brick looked in the direction of the bathroom and back at Misty. “You hurting, real bad?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Oh, God!” she cried out, and tried to sit up as if the pain had gone up a notch. The extra effort exerted inadvertently caused more semen to erupt and trickle out. Misty pressed her thighs together, while moaning in pain. “Hurry up, Brick, go get the washcloth,” she said pitifully. She knew he disliked the sour taste of his own semen and only ate her cumdrenched pussy under extreme emergencies. But watching him suck his thick ejaculation out of her coochie aroused her like crazy; gave her a body-quacking orgasm.

She pretended to cry.

“Don’t cry, Misty, baby. You know I gotchu, girl,” Brick assured her with eyes filled with love.

Playing her part to the hilt, Misty continued to twist and writhe, all the while rubbing her stomach and moaning, “It hurts. Oh, Brick. Help me, it hurts so bad.” She could feel a thick stream of his semen, trailing down one of her thighs. Just in case the sight of it repelled him, she cunningly took her theatrics to another level, sobbing as if she were in critical condition.

“Relax, Misty. Open your legs.”

Misty wanted to break into a wide grin, but she grimaced as if in excruciating pain. Brick tenderly parted her thighs. She could feel the slimy ejaculation, now stuck on both thighs. Brick’s loving lips went straight to the center of her semen-saturated honey pot, sucking and kissing it; showing her coochie mad love. He gently separated her cum-stuck pussy lips with his moist tongue. Once he had her pussy wide open, he sucked on her snatch—healing it—giving it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

He went from sucking to licking. His tongue strokes felt so good, so soothing, it took an enormous amount of willpower for Misty to resist wrapping her legs around his neck and grinding her slushy coochie all over his scarred face. “Mmm,” she uttered spontaneously. “Oh, baby. I feel so much better,” she moaned, twisting and shuddering, no longer able to restrain herself.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.” She sounded tentative.

“Go for it, then.”

“For real?”

“Yeah,” Brick said huskily. “Don’t worry about me. Do you. Get your thing off, baby.”

That was all Misty needed to hear. She placed frantic pussy rotations on Brick’s lips for a few moments. Then crudely, disrespectfully, she slid her cunt up and down his face, abusively smearing cum and pussy juice on his forehead, eyelids, nose, mouth, and chin, all the while crying out and calling Brick horrible, degrading names.

Seconds later, Misty felt her coochie walls contracting. Heightening her arousal, she called Brick an ugly monster, a beast, and every other deplorable name that seemed fitting. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she geared up for an erotic explosion that would soon gush out and splatter Brick’s ugly face.