Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got (21 page)

“Oh my,” Demi moaned in satisfaction.

“This my pussy?” he begged to know.

Demi told him that it was his pussy on several occasions, but he liked to be reminded every time they made love.

“Yes baby, it’s yours,” she moaned.

“I know it is,” he said cockily, as he gripped her waist and threw his dick around in her pussy. Papa made sure he hit every corner of her pussy. He looked down as he slid his dick in and out of her; her cream coating his dick caused his chest to tighten.

Sex was sex, true enough, but when you fucked the girl of your dreams, the woman you wanted to live with for the rest of your life, that shit was totally different.

He loved fucking Demi. He was told that after awhile her pussy would get old and he would cheat on her, but he couldn’t see it happening. In order, family and money were the only two things he busied himself with.

Papa didn’t give a shit about nothing else, he had everything he wanted plus so much more, and now it was time for him to make sure Demi’s dreams came true.

“I love you, bae,” he told her, as he sped his pace up. The night was young so he wasn’t tripping on cumming fast because he planned on busting her guts down a few more times before midnight even came. 

“Love you moreeeeeeeeeeeeee,” she moaned, as she threw it back.

“Shit, slow down,” he begged as he tried to keep up, but his plea fell on deaf ears. Demi felt her orgasm building and she was trying to catch it.

“Oh, oh, oh, yessssssssssss, oh my,” she whimpered at the euphoric feeling that good dick brought to her.

“Whew,” Papa said, as he pulled out of her and lay down beside her on the mink rug.

“That was so good,” she admitted.

“It’s always good,” he said, cockily.

Demi rolled over and straddled his lap. “You right about that, baby.”

“What you doing?” he asked, looking into her beautiful eyes.

Demi reached behind her and massaged his limp dick. Papa moved because right now he was very sensitive to touch.

“Aww babe, come on I got you,” she cooed, and placed his dick into her hands once more.

After awhile his dick was at attention and Demi slid down his pole.

“What you on?” he asked, as she rocked her hips and had him moaning.

“Trying to put you to sleep,” she told him, bending down and kissing his neck as she got comfortable in the crook of Papa’s neck and shoulder. She twerked on his dick and Papa reached up to see her cheeks moving in a slow motion.

“Hellll yeahhhhhhhhhhhh!” He smacked her ass, causing Demi’s clit to jump and twitch.

“Papa,” she moaned.

“Nah, don’t talk that shit now, work that dick!” he said, smacking her ass again. 

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Every time she went down on his dick, a sharp, yet powerful feeling raced to the pit of her stomach.

“Hell yeah,” he grunted.

Demi was getting tired so she slowed down, which somehow triggered Papa to speed up and that he did. He took control of the situation as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pumped his dick into her pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Demi squirmed.

“Take this dick,” Papa roared. He bit her nipple that had been dancing in his face for too long now.

Demi felt herself cumming all over again, and Papa felt it too.

“Rain on this dick,” he commanded, and that she did.

After she came, he removed her from his lap and Demi knew he now wanted his nut sucked out of him. She got straight to work, using her tongue and a li’l spit and wrapped her lips around his dick and bobbed up and down on her man’s dick.

Playing with her pussy, Papa loved to watch Demi give him head because she did it with so much passion.

“Suck it,” he taunted.

Demi smirked, but she never stopped slurping and making the nastiest sounds in the world as she brought him to a climax.

“Lick the tip,” Papa told her.

Demi pulled his dick from her mouth and made love to just the head of his dick. She nibbled on the tip and used her tongue to play with it and make it jump, before sliding her warm mouth down the base of his penis once more, before feeling him jerk and scream her name. As he came and the salty substance slid down her throat, Demi could have swore she saw a tear roll down Papa’s face.

Being that Ryan was now up and crying, she couldn’t lie out like Papa had just done.

After checking on Ryan and putting him back to bed, she came back to the living room, but Papa had already made his way to bed and was snoring loudly, like an old man.

Demi shook her head. “Mission accomplished,” she said, and went to take a shower.

***

The next morning, she kissed Papa goodbye and fed Ryan before leaving her two favorite men at home by themselves, which was something she rarely did. She couldn’t recall the last time she was home, and as in
home
she was referring to the million-dollar home she grew up in.

Demi parked her car in the circular driveway, the Bentley she drove compliments of her man. She rang the doorbell and when her housekeeper came to the door, Demi was brought to tears.

She jumped in Mickey’s arms. “Oh my God, I miss you so much, let me know if you wanna leave mama, I need you,” she told the lady who raised her from a baby, until the day she left home.

“Look at your hips,” Mickey slapped Demi’s thigh.

She laughed. “Just a li’l weight, not much,” she told Mickey.

“A little? Let’s try a lot,” Dorane said, standing at the top of the stairs with a cup of what Demi knew was tea in her hand.

Dorane had lost a lot of weight, but it looked good on her.

“Good morning to you too,” Demi told her mother, and followed Mickey into the kitchen.

Her mother had ONE time to piss her off before she decided she would leave and never talk to her again. Before Demi could take a bite into the homemade blueberry muffin that Mickey had just made, Dorane snatched it from her mouth and told her, “Your diet starts today, let’s go.”

Demi looked at her mom, but she said nothing as she followed her out of the house and into the dance studio they specifically made for Demi.

“I haven’t been here in forever,” she told her mother, as she ran her hands against the barre.

Her mother moved around the room, moving boxes out of the way, and pulling the cover from the piano.

“I’m assuming you brought your slippers,” Dorane said.

“Aren’t we going to talk?” Demi asked.

Dorane turned around and faced Demi, looking her up and down. “No,” she told her.

Demi didn’t argue. She took her jacket off, sat on the floor, and laced her shoes up. Although she danced every day, it wasn’t with her pointe shoes on.

After she laced up, she stood and stretched.

“It’s been so long since I played,” Dorane said, loudly.

She smiled. “It’s been a long time since I heard you,” she said, referring to her mother playing the piano.

Dorane was a jack of all trades, but dance was the only thing she talked about publically. Demi danced lazily as her mother tuned the piano and got reacquainted with the keys.

“Okay, let’s go, how long do I have you for today?” Dorane asked.

Demi told her, “For as long as I need to be here.”

Dorane smiled. “Sounds like you want to become a ballerina.”

“I do,” Demi told her confidently, and for the first time in a long time she felt that passion ignited all over again.

Hours later, Demi’s body ached and she was covered in sweat. The sun rose and fell and Papa had called her a few times just to make sure she was alive and her mother hadn’t taken her hostage, but Demi texted him and told she was rusty and was practicing.

She lay out on the floor with her arms spread and her toes bleeding profusely.

“So,” Dorane said.

Demi sat up and waited for her mom to continue. The entire day, she did nothing but bark out orders to Demi.

“You’re still an amazing dancer,” Dorane had to admit.

Those few words made her day, but she knew in order for her to land a position in the company she had to be way more dedicated to her craft than she was now.

“I’ll be here in the morning, same time,” she told her mom.

“Stay for dinner,” Dorane suggested.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she told her mom.

Demi didn’t tell her mom she had a crying baby at home. She didn’t understand why it was so hard for her to tell her mom she was now a mother, that she carried the greatest gift in her womb for seven months. The words never made their way out of her mouth. It was almost as if she was ashamed to tell her mom how much she loved her son.

The joy in Dorane’s eyes as she watched her twirl and jump all across the room, Demi couldn’t take that away from her mama, not today she couldn’t.

When she made it home, Papa and Ryan weren’t home. Demi took a long, hot shower and ate leftovers from Ryan’s party yesterday, and took an Aleve for her back before going to bed.

The next morning, she woke up before the sun hit the windows and was out the door again. This routine continued for six days before Papa woke her ass up when he made it in.

Demi turned over on her stomach, but Papa pulled the pillow from her head and the comforter from her back.

“Nah, wake your ass up and go see your son,” he shouted.

“Why are you yelling?” Demi yawned.

“Because your baby misses you, get your ass up,” he told her.

Demi knew he was telling the truth, but it wouldn’t always be like this.  She was just trying to prepare for the audition, but Papa didn’t want to hear it all.

Demi got up and went to Ryan’s nursery. He stopped playing with his toys and ran to his mama. As tired as she was, when she saw her son’s face energy filled her body and she lit up like a tree on Christmas.

“Mommy misses you so much,” she told her son, and showered him with kisses.

Ryan smiled and kissed his mama back.

“Play, play,” he told her, handing Demi a truck.

Demi didn’t care how exhausted she felt. Ryan wanted to play cars so she straightened up and played cars. About twenty minutes later, Papa saw her struggling to stay awake and he came and took Ryan to the tub.

Demi was thankful because she didn’t know how long she was supposed to stay up. Her eyes struggled to stay open. She crawled back into bed and was sleep in less than two minutes.

After Ryan was bathed and put into his crib, Papa went to smoke and eat a bowl of cereal.

He needed to talk to Demi, but he knew he would look selfish if he came down on her too hard, especially since there were plenty of nights Papa didn’t even make it home because a shipment came in.

He wanted to be understanding and supportive, but half of him couldn’t help but to feel like Dorane was trying to steal his Demi away from him. They were a family now, there was a child involved and Demi needed to understand that.

The next morning, Demi woke up and made breakfast for her family. Her mother had a doctor’s appointment so there was no practice today.

She made a tray of food and took it to their bedroom, waking Papa up with the fresh smell of French toast and bacon.

“Hmmmm,” Papa said, turning around and eyeing the plate. It had been so long since she cooked, so he sat up and dived in.

Demi got Ryan and placed him in bed with them. She fed him small pieces of the bread, careful so he wouldn’t choke.

“So, what’s up Demi?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “I know you’re mad, but I’m trying here, okay? I’m trying to find balance,” she told him.

“Why would you think I’m mad?” Papa asked.

“You basically dragged me out of bed last night,” she told him.

Papa acted as if he had forgotten his actions, but he didn’t and he would do that shit again if she ever went days without seeing their baby.

“How is it going though?” he asked.

“Good, I think I’ll be ready for auditions,” she said, confidently.

“When is it?” he asked.

“Soon,” she told him.

Demi prayed he didn’t want to come. Her mother was so excited about the audition. She wanted her and Demi to ride together and everything.

“What your mom say about Ryan?” he asked.

Demi played with her son, ignoring Papa’s question.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t tell her. Yo, what the fuck!” he snapped.

“Don’t curse in front of my son,” she told him, quickly.

“Demi, what is wrong with you? How do you deny your child?” he asked.

She saw the hurt in his eyes, but he didn’t understand the complicated position she was in right now.

Day in and out, her mother never asked her anything about how she was doing or what she had been up to. She treated Demi like a step-child, or a student who she had been paid to teach how to dance. There was no mother-daughter relationship being worked on, it was simply dance. The only they discussed was dance.