Eleven

“
They say the truth will set you free. Tha
t’
s why we lie to who we love
.‘
Cuz we do
n’
t want them to go anywhere
.”
- Me

Krys Seabron

©
2015 by Krys Seabron

Houston, TX

Eleven

Chapter 1

The Race

Even the white smoke that blew from her light pink lips turned me on. My breathing became short and choppy, almost to the point of a light pant. Her light brown eyes instinctively locked into mine. I wanted so badly to look away. To be unfazed. To be completely unaffected by her sexy ass mouth and dreamy bedroom eyes. I'm not even fuckin' gay! The dampened seat of these black laced Vickies would call me a liar though.

The dimly lit club was thick with hookah vapors and cigarette smoke. Hip hop music blared through the overhead speakers. I tucked the heel of my red pumps behind the footrest of the wooden barstool.

"I need that pussy on this dick right now," Jason Jackson leaned over and whispered in my ear. For a brief moment, I completely forgot I was here with my boyfriend. My man of two and a half years. My consistently good dick. I readjusted in my seat, clenching my thighs together, shifting my weight closer to his muscular build. Jason's raspy voice snatched my attention from Kai St. Laraunt’s pretty, golden face.

Jason scooted his seat back from the pub table and excused himself to the bathroom. I counted to sixty silently in my head twice, hoping this would disguise the toilet sex Jason and I were about to have while Kai and her girl, Ashley, sat unassumingly at the table and waited for us to come back. I dryly chuckled at whatever Ashley said, not really paying any attention to her, but merely responding the way that seemed most appropriate considering her and Kai were both laughing.

I was on 39 for the second time and I found myself once again imagining what Kai's wet tongue would feel like sliding against the most sensitive part of me. The softness of her caramel cheeks against the smoothness of my thick, cinnamon thighs.  

"Excuse me ladies," I said as I grabbed my white and black leather Michael Kors satchel.

I pushed the rickety men's restroom door open. The second the door closed behind me, Jason's massive hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the handicapped restroom stall. He jammed the lock closed and proceeded to push me face forward against the wall. Even though I'm a plus sized Barbie, Jason slings me around as if this ass and these hips are packed tight with feathers. All that college football he played bulked him up and kept him in shape. 

His chocolate hands crawled under my black and gold off the shoulder BCBG blouse and cupped my D cups. He pulled me into him. He was so hard it felt like a tree branch pressing against the small of my back. I loved it. I wanted it. I stood on my tippy toes and pushed my butt against his stiffness, allowing my body to beg for it. Grinding my hips back, showing him how bad I needed to feel him inside me.

He gripped my waist and pulled me away from the wall. His hand then quickly moved to the dip between my shoulder blades as he pushed me forward, bent over while he quickly unfastened his True Religion’s. My heart raced against my chest. I panted as I stared at  the tiny gray squares on the bathroom floor.

Then it dawned on me…I'm wasting time. I can't stand here and do nothing. There's a finish line to get to and fuck what everybody else learned about the tortoise and the hare, the bunny rabbit always wins the race. I placed my left flat against the wall for support as I widened my stance and rushed my fingers to my clitoris.

Okay, remember when I said I had consistently good dick? Well, I kind of lied. It's not only good, it's amazing. It's mind blowing...for exactly eleven pumps. No more. No less. With a cock ring or even jacking before sex…nothing helped. It was still eleven pumps. It has always been, and I'm sure it probably always will be.

I feverishly ran my fingertips over my slippery, swollen pleasure center as he pulled my ass cheeks apart and pushed his spit-shined member deep inside me. I was so wet he slid all nine and a half inches right in.

My knees buckled but I straightened them back out. With my hand planted firmly against the cold tiled wall, I absorbed pumps two and three with ease. My walls throbbed around his thickness. I struggled not to scream. He gripped my shoulders and began forcing his hardness deeper into me, knocking my hand from between my legs. Pump 7. Pump 8. A moan escaped his goatee traced lips. I fought against the natural urge to squeeze my pussy tight around him. Mainly because I still had hope. Maybe this could be the time I finally get to see what twelve feels like.

Pump 8. Pump 9. His hands fumbled to my waist for stability. Pump ten was harder and deeper than nine. He was in my stomach. I covered my mouth. I could smell the sweet aroma of my own juices. I wanted to cum so bad. I wanted to release everything I was feeling as he exploded inside me. I just wanted us to both cum together. Something we have never done before.

Pump 11. I could feel him spilling inside me. He hunched forward. His right leg shook, as it always does after he cums. "Don't pull out," I whispered as I rushed my fingers back between my legs. I rubbed circles. I stroked vertically. I did everything I could think of to pop the top on this shaken bottle of hot coke.

I closed my eyes and without warning, Kai's face appeared. I have never been attracted to a girl before, but somehow, she had me. I thought about her all the time. Sex with Jason is usually the only time I can control it. But not now. My mind so vividly held a picture of the long curved eyelashes that lined her bright brown eyes. Her cute, button like nose. That u-shaped curve in the center of her top lip. Her curly, bushy, sandy-brown mane that she keeps in a pony tail at the back of her head. That perfect, coke-bottled shaped body that demands looks from almost any man though she normally wears snap-back caps which almost always implies lesbian. Kai was beautiful in every way. She had just the right amount of femme to offset the masculinity she put out there with the hats and sneakers. She played the middle. She walked the line. I bet she could eat it good. I bet
she
could make me cum.

Suddenly my body started to quiver and I released the best orgasm I'd had in two months. Jason moaned at the intense contraction of insides as I came hard on his dick. For a second, I almost forgot he was there.

I fought to catch my breath as I pulled myself off of him. I was somewhat disappointed in yet another fail on his end.

"Daddy can make you cum by just standing still. You can't tell me I'm not the best." Jason's arrogant boasting after a job not well done always seemed to strike a nerve. I mean, I'm clearly fucking myself. I've never seen anyone congratulate the tripod for the pictures the camera took.

I unravelled some toilet paper and wiped the mess we made from between my legs.

"Of course, daddy, you know you put it down." I smiled as I turned to face him and flush the dirty paper down the toilet. There was no sense in shutting him down. Technically, his sex is off the chain...it just never makes it off the chain. He’s the best tease ever. But he's got so many other great attributes. He's handsome. Tall, smooth dark brown skin. His deep waves complimented his tapered fade. He's also a builder. He buys land and hires workers to build a home. He also owns a few ghetto apartments in the hood. Not too bad for a thirty two year old. He takes care of me. He loves me like I've never been loved before. He treats me like a queen. He's the type of guy to run me a bubble bath and line the tub with candles just to show me how much he appreciates me. So if short cumming is his only short coming, fuck leaving, I've hit the husband lottery. Especially considering how trifling niggas can be these days.

I pulled my black leggings up and wrapped my arms around his neck. His 6'4" always looked so far away from my 5'5" stance. He leaned forward and gently kissed me. His lips felt so soft planted against mine. "We better get going before they think we died...or had sex."

I giggled as I pushed out of the stall and to the mirror to check my make-up. My dark eyeliner was still in tact. My lip gloss, on the other hand, was smeared all over my mouth. I cleaned up the shiny smears from my caramel colored skin with my thumb. I fluffed my curly brown and black fro back out and smoothed my blouse back down over my stomach. Even though I was thick, I've always managed to keep a flat stomach. Just the way Jason likes.

Chapter 2

Did That Just Happened?

"If she's not pleasing you sexually, Kai, then why don't you just leave?" I asked as I held the cell phone between my cheek and shoulder while I flipped through the hundreds of U-verse channels searching for something to watch.

"You're one to talk," she responded in a low, sarcastic tone.

Kai and I had been best friends since the ninth grade. We are coming up on our fifteen year frienniversary. I can still remember the very first time I ever saw her. I was sitting next to my boyfriend at the popular table in the green and yellow themed high school cafeteria. This was the popular table because everyone who sat there was either a cheerleader, football player, or on the step team. I sat quietly wearing my dude's green and yellow letterman when Kai walked into the double doors right across from us. The second she crossed the threshold from the outside, she demanded all of my attention. Her physical appearance alone made me question my sexuality. I felt so drawn to her. She had on this fitted white Polo shirt and tight khakis. Her large, unruly mane commanded almost as much attention as the sway of her hips . I wanted so bad to say hi to her. To get to know her.  She paused as she passed me and made unmistakable eye contact. My entire body tingled. My core shuttered. I was instantly turned on from just her light browns. I looked down, quickly breaking away from the sin she almost brought upon me by looking my way.

We ended up in the same class. She sat next to me, cracked a joke, and we have been laughing together ever since. We tell each other everything. Well, I tell her everything. I always feel like she's holding something back.

I leaned back on the chaise of the black contemporary styled sectional and propped my feet up on the cool leather surface.

"So tell me, Erica Thomas: why do you stay? Why don't you find someone that can please you?" Her voice lowered. Her tone became more sensual. I took a deep breath and stared blankly at the pristine white ceiling. As if I could somehow find an answer there.

"He does please me. Just not sexually," I responded, trying to defend my man.

The line went completely silent minus a bit a background noise from her tv. She inhaled deeply, like a grade school boy takes that deep breath before he hands the infamous "circle yes or no" note to the girl he's been crushing on since kindergarten.

Butterflies began to stir in the pit of my stomach. I knew where this conversation was going. I could practically map it out on Google. Whenever Jason's name comes up, she becomes compelled to convince me that maybe I should try girls. As tempting as cumming by someone else's effort sounds, I just can't bring myself to be with a girl. Besides, my father is a pastor. He barely approves of Kai as my
friend
. He never wanted me to spend the night at her house in high school. I had to sneak around just to hang out with her. To this day, whenever her name comes up he spews out homophobic scriptures as if gay is contagious and he's trying to quarantine me.

"Maybe you need somebody that knows you better."

I paused. Normally her opening line is straightforward. She never beats around the bush in telling me I need a girlfriend or trying to persuade me to participate in some other lesbian escapades. My interest was peeked. I wanted to know where this was going, even though there was a small voice in my head saying 'bitch, don't go there.'