Sexaholics (30 page)

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Authors: Pynk

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BOOK: Sexaholics
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“Damn, you’re so wet today. My balls are dripping wet from this
juicy vagina. No dry pussy here.” He sounded as though dry pussy was his
norm. He pumped her harder, to the left. “You like this angle, don’t
you?”

“Yes.” She watched him watch her.

“Look at you. This is how it should be always. I’ve never met a
woman in all my life who can get me off like you. No inhibitions. No hang-ups.
Just so damn sexy, Miki. So, so sexy. Heck, I’d have to go to Rio to find
a woman like you.”

Miki leaned back a bit and rocked him back and forth with her hips, sliding
his white dick in and out of her black pussy with a more side-to-side motion.
She rubbed her ass along his pubic area and ground his dick all the way
inside.

He slapped her ass and it wiggled in response. “Never seen ass like
this before in all my life.” He was in love with it.

“You love that big black ass. You can’t get enough of it, can
you?”

“No. Never.” He switched his sights from her ass, to the mirror,
to the ceiling, to her ass, and then back to the mirror. “Grab my balls.
Grab em.”

She leaned forward again and did as he asked, grabbing him by the testicles,
fondling them between her long fingers.

He watched her work. “Grab em. Harder. Squeeze em.”

Miki maneuvered his tawny-colored balls, getting rough like he liked it.

“Ohhhh, that’s it. That’s it. That’s my Miki. Grab
them. Grab my balls.”

His voice told her he was deep into his approaching cum-factor. The cock ring
was no match for her. Miki squeezed even harder.

“Oooooowwww, yes. Ooooohh, uhhhm, yes.” He jerked his body and
let out a high-pitched scream. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. That’s my
bitch.”

Miki ceased her bucking motion and her hand job against his balls. He would
always call her the B word when he came. It was the way it was. She’d
gotten used to the routine. He’d either jack off by looking at her ass
while she stood in front of him, or they’d take a position where she could
grope his balls and get him off the way he needed to. Either way, the name he
always called her was
bitch.
This time, for some reason, she climbed
off of him and said nothing.

He didn’t move but said, “There’s some money for you on the
dresser. That was amazing.” His breathing worked overtime.

He lay back to calm himself and closed his eyes.

His cell rang six times while Miki got dressed, putting back on her black
skirt suit and red heels. He simply lay back, and then he began snoring, resting
upon his back with a loose condom half off his limp dick, still breathing hard
with a nasally sound.

Miki looked at him again and shook her head. She headed toward the door and
his phone rang again. And again. He didn’t move an inch, but he did break
out into a loud, foghorn snore as he always did. And that always did drive her
nutty.

She left. This time, without taking the money.

He didn’t even notice.

As she exited the elevator and entered the hotel lobby, she was greeted.
“Oh, hi, Miki. Wow, you’re here late. I thought you were off
already. I was going to call you,” the hotel VP’s executive
assistant said. The woman wore cognac eyeglasses and had upswept hair.

“I just had to check on something. Call me about what?” Miki
fluffed up the hair on the back of her head with her fingers and then rubbed her
under eyes, checking for remnants of stray mascara.

“Miki, Mr. Walton asked me to set up a meeting with you for tomorrow
morning. What’s a good time?”

“Maybe late morning.”

“Oh, I know for a fact he’s booked. How about first thing, like
nine o’clock?”

“Okay. I guess I have no choice.”

“Good. I’ll let him know. See you in the morning.” The
woman walked away.

“Okay.” Miki exited the front door, stepped out into the early
nighttime, and answered her phone. “Hello.”

“Since you like to fuck so much, consider yourself fucked.
Bitch.”

Miki stopped in her tracks. She tried to keep her reaction down. “Look,
bitch.”

Click.

Miki noticed the doorman looking past her and then looking the other way
quickly. She gave an exasperated exhale, tossed her phone into her bag, and
headed toward her SUV, which was parked near the front in the end stall. Miki
removed her keys from her purse at the same time she heard her phone ring again.
She snatched it and read the display.

“Val. Hey, girl.”

“Hey, Miki. I was wondering. Are you free to hang out tonight? I really
would like to talk to you. Some shit happened with Greg and I wanted to tell you
at the meeting but you didn’t come. Greg found out about me and you and
Tariq.” Before Miki could reply, Valencia said, “Wait. Hold on for
one second, baby.” Miki was a few cars away from her own when she heard a
click
and then a voice. “Yeah. Hey, can I hit you back? I’m
on the phone with Miki right now.”

A familiar male voice said, “Okay. Can you meet for a minute? Just
maybe a half hour. At our regular spot?”

Valencia answered him saying, “I was gonna ask her to meet me but yes,
I guess I can. I’ll call you right back.”

“Okay, sexy.”

“Bye.” And then Valencia spoke to Miki. “Hello.”

Miki’s eyes bugged. Almost in automatic mode, she aimed her keys toward
her car and it beeped. She said as though begging, “Val?”

“Yeah. Oh, wait. Hold on. Let me check and make sure it hung
up.”

Miki heard silence.

Valencia said, sounding like she was moving around while she spoke.
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

From behind Miki, headlights suddenly blazed, and an immediate, horrendous
sound of screeching rubber against pavement shrilled into the nighttime air. A
thud
, an insurmountable shove, and a crushing weight struck
Miki’s frame. She was pushed up against her truck. Her fancy bag and
iPhone were catapulted into the air as a monstrous force squashed her flesh,
bones, and organs, crumbling her hips and legs into a flat mass. Her head jerked
back, and she fought to keep her mind alive.

The three-thousand-pound vehicle rapidly shifted into reverse, allowing Miki
to crumble to the ground. Her head met the concrete. Only the sound of skidding
tires and the smell of hot fiery rubber lingered.

Suddenly standing over her and peering down into the recesses of her eyes, an
older man with fear oozing from his face asked, “Ma’am, are you
alive?”

Miki’s blood wet lids barely separated. The look on his face told her
he expected her not to answer.

She was completely still, laying in the darkness.

Physically and mentally.

The only thing moving was a heavy tear that gravity sent traveling down the
side of her shocked and frightened face.

The concerned and boisterous male voice said, “I saw the license plate.
It read 14KGOLD. If you can hear me, help is on the way. Please don’t even
begin to try to move.”

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

She felt absolutely nothing.

26

“Sugar Walls”

Teela

T
eela visited Brandi right after work
the next day. Brandi had changed her plea to guilty, her bail was doubled, and
she was waiting to have her trial date set. She was not leaving anytime
soon.

It was a one-sided visit, and Brandi said very little to her new friend. The
conversation from the other side of the glass was taken in by Brandi, who looked
deep into Teela’s eyes and only listened. This time it was Teela who spoke
like a robot. And this time, Brandi was indeed crying.

“I remember the sound. It was right next door to my room. I was
nine.

“Daddy would wait outside of their own master bedroom upstairs,
standing guard, most of the time with his arms crossed over his wide belly.
He’d have a stern look on his face. And the louder the sounds got, the
sooner it would be over. When it became quiet, he’d open the door and go
inside, and the visitor would leave. But not before handing my dad some money in
the hallway or at the front door.

“One time, while the loud fucking noise went on, Dad opened the door
and watched. And he reached in his pants and pulled out his thing and yanked
it.

“One night Dad went ahead downstairs and slept on the couch while the
man was with my mother all night. I heard them go on for a while. And this time,
I was the one who just had to see. The door was left half open, and by the dim
light of the tiny bedside lamp I watched him mount my mother. They were under
the covers and his butt thrust was like he was on fire. She moaned and turned
her head up toward the ceiling with squinted eyes. I saw them do it and I kept
watching. My mother was in a pained pleasure state. It was like she wished it
would stop or wished it wouldn’t. But the look on her face was a glow of
passion that made my heart ache. They kept going and going, in the same
position. And it took a long time before he finished his business. But I guess I
still kept watching, a long time or not. I had told the members of SA before
that I’d watch my parents have sex. But the truth is that I watched a
strange man fuck my mother while my father slept downstairs.

“About four long years later, around the time puberty had just about
beat me up, my bedroom door opened and a man in the dark walked in my room. My
door then shut and the man came closer. I screamed and my dad jerked the door
open, walked up to me fast, stood over me with his evil, scruffy face and his
overweight body, and removed his belt. ‘You will keep your mouth shut.
I’ll be right back. You do as you’re told.’ And so I did. I
can still hear the sound of that belt buckle jiggling as he walked out. That man
he left in my teenage room was my own uncle.

“I remember one night, my mom made noises from her room, and I made
noises from my room at the same time. We moaned this particular night, together,
with only a wall separating us. At one point, the louder I got the quieter she
got, and I could have sworn her moans turned to whines, like she was crying for
my pain. But then her groans stopped. And I heard her bedroom door open and
close. I never heard her working in her room again after that. For the next five
years, I guess I was the sexual breadwinner of the family.

“I can’t explain it but in an odd way, I learned to like the
feeling. It felt good to have a man’s dick inside of me. It felt good to
have my neck kissed. It felt good to have someone’s mouth on my vagina and
their fingers inside of me. I’d have an orgasm while I cried, but I
couldn’t stop it from rushing. I’d hear my door open and my heart
would stop, yet I’d begin pulling down my panties by the time the stranger
got into my bed. It wasn’t like I learned to hate those men so much. I
just hated my dad for allowing it to happen.

“My mother sent me far away to go to school, and he died while I was in
college. I missed the funeral on purpose. But still, she didn’t leave him
on her own. Kinda why I could never understand her telling me to leave Austin. I
went to see her the other day for the first time in years and probably
won’t go back. She’s still grieving over him. See, God took my dad,
otherwise they’d still be together today. By the way, he died after having
a massive heart attack while he was fucking a hooker less than a mile away from
our home. Some things never change.

“I suppose all of this is what taught me to be fearful. I was sold by
my father. Through sex, I took back the power I didn’t have as a child.
And only God can grant me the power of the healing I need so badly
now.”

Brandi’s eyes were red from shedding stinging tears for her friend. She
lowered the receiver for a minute and wiped her face. The tears clouded her
vision, and she fought to focus her eyes and mind upon Teela. She put the
receiver to her ear and simply said, “I’m so proud of you.”
She sniffled like a five-year-old. “And since I’m sure he never
apologized, I want to apologize for what he did to you. I’m sorry,
Teela.”

Teela’s nose was flushed. Her eyes were dry. She winked. “Thank
you. And I’m sorry for what you’re going through.” Her voice
was nasal.

Brandi nodded as a simple acceptance of Teela’s words.
“Sometimes, we have to get lost to find ourselves. In time, I’ll be
good as new.”

“Me too, Brandi. Me too.”

27

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