Man Swappers (29 page)

I close my eyes, block out the echoing of his words. My eyes snap open when he pulls his dick out of my pussy, leaving it yearning for it back inside of me, deep and thick and full of power. I plead with my eyes. Beg for him to put his dick back where it belongs. He ignores my pleas. Kisses down to my stomach, dips
his tongue into my navel, then slides it along my clit. I squirm and wiggle as he eats my pussy, lapping up my hot juices that spurt out onto his tongue. He mounts his mouth over my clit, dipping his tongue into my wetness, rapidly nursing on my clit until I start to shake and buck my hips.

I’m spent. But that doesn’t stop him from entering my cum-slick pussy and hitting my bottom all over again. “Ohhhh, shiiiit… you feel you so good, baby…”

“Oooooooh, Em…it’s your dick, baby…it’s all you, making me feel good…”

He kisses me. Tells me he loves again. I choke back tears.

We become silent, staring into each other’s eyes as he strokes my insides. The crackling of the fire becomes the music that guides our rhythm.

“How do you know?” I finally whisper against his lips in between kisses. He keeps his gaze locked on mine, kisses me deeply enough to leave no doubt that what he feels is real; that he is more than sure.

Paris
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I
pull back the sheets and stare at Desmond’s naked body as he sleeps. My eyes hungrily rove every inch of his sculpted physique, causing my mouth to water. I’m so turned on by the sight of him that I can barely contain my desire to fuck him all over again. My pussy aches, still wet from the last three rounds. But it’s hungry for more of him. I scoot down some, then take Desmond’s dick in my hand and gently stroke it, placing gentle kisses all over it before licking its head like an ice cream cone. I roll his beautiful dick between my palms, slowly gliding my hands up and down his shaft. I love this strong black dick. Love the way it tastes; the way it feels. Love the way its vein throbs when it’s aroused; the way its eye leaks clear, sticky nectar whenever it’s excited. He doesn’t have as much dick as I envisioned he would with his height and all. But, it’s not a disappointment in the least. The man knows how to use what he has. And that’s all that matters to me. It’s about six-and-three-quarter inches of dark chocolate, brick-hard and thick cock. Damn, did he work this pussy over!

He stirs, but doesn’t awake until I am rapidly sucking his hard dick. “Aaah, shit,” he moans, opening his eyes. “Damn, baby, you tryna suck the life outta a muhfucka.”

I pull his dick out of my mouth long enough to ask, “You got
a problem with that?” I wrap my lips back around the head and continue sucking before he can respond.

He laughs. “Hell no, baby. Do you. You got a muhfucka trippin’ hard right now.”

I smile. And for the next fifteen minutes, I suck and slurp until he’s grabbing at the sheets and bucking his hips, nutting down in my throat. I lick him clean, then flop back on the bed beside him. He attempts to steady his breathing, pulling me into his arms. He kisses me on the side of my head. “Damn, you really gotta muhfucka feeling some kinda way; got me all off my square. I’m really diggin’ you, ma. I wanna really get to know you. You know, spend some time with you.…”

I lay my head on his chest, playing in the patch of hair in the center of his chest. My hand glides over to his nipple, slowly swirl the tips of my fingers over it until it hardens. I am half-listening to him talk, half-listening to his beating heart.

“…no pressure, though.…”

The voice inside of my head is telling me to get up and put my clothes on; to tell him getting to know me isn’t an option, then walk out the door and never look back.

But he’s so damn fine
.

And you’re into foursomes with your sisters.

He doesn’t have to ever know about that part of your life.

But he will! It’s only a matter of time.

Then tell him before he hears it from someone else.

He wouldn’t understand.

Then let this be the last time you fuck him.

I’m only having fun with him, so he doesn’t need to know.

My gut tells me to roll out of his arms. Instead, I lie still. Stay wrapped in his embrace. His muscular body feels so good pressed up against mine. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, deciding that at this very moment, this is where I
want
to be.

Two hours later I awaken to Desmond watching me. He smiles at me, then kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Yo, anyone ever tell you how mad sexy you are when you sleep?”

I smile back at him, shaking my head. “No, this is the first time I’m hearing it. Thank you.”

“No doubt. So what you wanna do the rest of the day?”

I glance over at the digital clock. It reads: 4:18
P.M.
I still can’t believe that on my day off I snuck down to Atlantic City and have been laid up in a suite at the Borgata with this man since last night. Against my will, I find myself slowly liking him. Find myself thinking about the possibilities of a relationship; maybe not with him, but the idea of having someone special in my life surfaces. Yet, the thought of giving up what my sisters and I share…I sigh. A part of me is okay with giving it up all up for a more traditional life. Then there’s that other part of me—the kinky side, that looks forward to sharing every part of a man with my sisters. I enjoy the sexapades. Enjoy the randomness of it all.
Then why the hell are you here?

I don’t know.

Bitch, your ass is confused.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, shifting my attention back to him. “Maybe go downstairs and try to gamble a bit since I don’t know the first thing about gambling. Then grab something to eat. I’m in the mood for sushi.”

He grins. “Stick with me, baby. I’ll teach you.”

I smile. “Oh, is that so?”

“No doubt,” he says, kissing me on the tip of my nose. “So you dig sushi?”

“Yup, love it,” I say, stretching.

“Oh, word? That’s my shit, too. And they have a Japanese spot downstairs. My man told me it’s bangin’.”

I smile. “Sounds good to me. I can eat sushi every day.”

“Oh word?” he says, eyeing me. He kisses me on the lips, pulling back the covers. “So what else can you eat every day?”

“I’m not telling you all of my secrets,” I say, licking my lips, glancing under the covers at his cock. I climb out of bed. “A girl has to keep some things to herself.”

He laughs, watching as I walk over to the dresser, my bare ass shaking and bouncing. “Yeah, aiight. Damn, you gotta beautiful ass.”

“Glad you like it.” I pull my phone out of my handbag. I have four text messages. One from Porsha telling me Irwin’s going to be in town this weekend.

“Like it? Yo, I love it! You got one of those nice ol’ juicy-biscuit booties.” I glance over at Desmond, laughing.

“Ohmygod, hilarious.”

“Nah, baby. I’m serious. You sexy as fuck.”

“You’re full of compliments,” I say, scrolling through my phone. There’s a text from Felecia inviting us to Pasha’s bachelorette party the night before her wedding. And there’s one text from Persia, wanting to know if I want to order in. “What are you trying to get, some more pussy?”

He laughs. “Nah, I’m tryna get up in your heart.” I drop my phone, coughing. “Yo, you aiight?”

“Yeah,” I say, patting my chest. “You kind of caught me off-guard with that.”

“Yo, don’t choke, baby. I’m keepin’ shit real. I wanna snatch you up. That’s real talk.”

I pick up my cell from off the floor. I’m not going to be able to keep this up much longer. At some point, I’ll need to make a decision. I’ll either need to tell him about my man-sharing escapades or end this rendezvous before it turns into something complicated. Right now, I’m not going to worry about it. “Well,
how about we live in the moment and simply enjoy each other’s company. Whatever else happens…happens.”

“Aiight. That’s wassup. So since you wanna be in the moment, put that phone down and come back to bed. I wanna hold you in my arms.”

I smile. “Give me a sec. I need to let my sisters know where I’m at.” I text Persia, let her know I won’t be coming home, then shut off my phone and toss it back in my bag. “There,” I say, walking back over to him. He pulls back the covers as I climb into bed. “I’m all yours.”

He pulls me into my arms. “Aaaah, yeah. That’s what I wanna hear.”

Seven o’clock, we’re downstairs seated at Izakaya. The ambiance is sensual. The décor contemporary. I’ve ordered a shrimp, lobster, crab and scallop dish with a side of charred Japanese broccoli, and one baby dragon roll. Desmond’s ordered Japanese sea bass and a spicy tuna roll. He orders a two-hundred-and-twenty-dollar bottle of sake.

“So when you gonna hit me with them digits?” he asks, taking a slow sip of his drink.

I sweep my bang across my forehead, smiling. “When I’m ready for you to snatch me up. In the meantime, you know how to reach me. And you know where to find me. So there’s no need for you to have any other numbers. Not yet, anyway.”

He grins. “Oh, aiiight. That’s how you doin’ me?”

I eye him over the rim of my ceramic cup. “For now.”

“I see your work. I got you, though. It’s all good. I’ma just keep comin’ down to ya spot until you give in.”

I smile, raising my eyebrow. “Hmmm, sounds kind of stalkerish to me. Don’t have me call the cops on you.”

He laughs. “Oh, here you go with that again. You stay tryna call the police on a muhfucka. What’s gonna be my crime this time?”

“I don’t know” I say, teasingly. “I’ll think up something real creative.”

“Yeah, aiight. You do that. I’ll be bailed out before the ink dries, and right back at ya spot. Now what? You not shakin’ me that easy, ma. I already told you what it is.”

Girl, you better slow this down before it spins out of control. And you find your ass in something you can’t get out of.
I shrug. “I’ll take my chances.”

Every so often I find myself stealing glances at him. I can’t lie. He’s piqued my curiosity. A series of questions are racing through my head. What kind of work does he do? Does he have any children? How many baby mommas does he have? Did he go to college? Does he own his own place? Does he live alone? Is his credit all fucked up?

I ask the questions and learn that he’s thirty-one, has no children, and has never been married. That his family’s from New Haven, Connecticut, where he still lives; but has an apartment in Jersey that he shares with one of his cousins. That he has three brothers and two sisters; that he’s the middle child. He tells me his parents, along with a few other family members, live in Jersey, which is why he’s here so much. That he’s very family oriented, and spends a lot of time chilling with them.

“Speakin’ of which, one of my cousins is gettin’ married in a couple of months,” he says, taking a swig of his sake. “I’m actually his best man.”

I smile. “Nice. I bet you clean up really well, too.”

He rubs his chin, grinning. “Yeah, no doubt. I can definitely do a lil sumthin-sumthin.”

“I bet you can. You’ll have to take pictures so I can see for myself.”

“No doubt. I got you. On some real shit, wish I woulda met you sooner. I woulda had you on my arm so you could see firsthand how I get down.”

I laugh. “And what makes you think I’d want to be on your arm?”

He grins. “Don’t front. I know you diggin’ me. And you’d be on my arm, ’cause that’s where I’d want you to be. That’s real talk, baby.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sure that cockiness has gotten you real far.”

“Don’t confuse confidence with cockiness, baby. I get what I want.”

I eye him over the rim of my drink. “So, what kind of work do you do?”

He takes another sip of his drink. “Is that really important?”

I shrug; slowly shake my head. “No, actually it’s not. Forgive me for asking.”
I mean, it’s not like you tryna marry the nigga.

“Nah, you good. I don’t usually like discussin’ what I do for a livin’. Some chicks be on some gold-diggin’ type shit, feel me?”

I nod. “I understand. Trust me. I’m far from a gold digger. If you haven’t noticed, I do very well for myself.”

He takes in the two-carat diamond studs in my earlobes, the tennis bracelet and diamond-encrusted Rolex on my wrist, the two-thousand-dollar handbag. “Yeah, I see how you grind. You’d have a cat goin’ broke real quick, tryna get at you. He’ll have’ta dig real deep in them pockets.”

“That’s so not true,” I say, feigning insult as I take a slow sip from my drink. “I make my own money and buy whatever I want. Trust me. I don’t need a man to buy me anything. And I’m definitely not a gold digger.”

“Nah, baby, I wasn’t callin’ you a gold digger. I’m sayin’
if
I were your man, I’d
want
to buy you shit. You the type of woman I’d wanna spoil.”

I smile. “That’s so sweet of you.”

The rest of the night we eat our meal, laughing and talking and finishing up the bottle of sake. I glance down at my watch. It’s already nine-thirty. Desmond pays the check, then grabs my hand and leads the way out the restaurant. We walk around the casino for a while until he decides he wants to gamble. He wants to play
The Amazing Race
game, which is situated next to the
Sex and The City
slot machines. I’m impressed with the graphics. And see why every seat for the game is filled. He takes a seat at the last
Amazing Race
slot machine that’s next to the last
Sex and the City
machine. Surprisingly, the woman playing the machine decides to get up. I grab the seat, digging in my purse for my wallet.

“Yo, take this,” he says, pulling out a stack of bills and handing me two one-hundred-dollar bills. I tell him no, but he insists. I take the money, thanking him. He reaches over and kisses me on the lips. I’m shocked at his public display of affection, and even more shocked that I allow it. And like it.

“What was that for?”

“For good luck. And for bein’ so damn sexy.”