Between the Sheets (9781476775807) (18 page)

Her eyes widen in surprise as if they're ready to pop out of their sockets. “You'd do what?
Give
him the okay to cheat on you?”

Although Jasmine and I are very close, and she knows Marcel and I have had threesomes, I've never disclosed to her just how open my marriage to Marcel is. She doesn't know about the men whom we also share our bed with. That tidbit is none of her business, or anyone else's.

As freaky and open-minded as Jasmine might profess to be—and, yes, she's been known to fuck her husband Stevie in public places and allows him to fuck her in all three holes, her freak flag does not—and probably will never—fly as high as mine. And I don't feel like having to explain or defend my acceptance of Marcel's bisexuality, or the fact that I, too, am bisexual and enjoy watching him share himself with other men. And vice versa.

Yes, she's aware I've slept with other females. But as far as she knows it was a phase during college, a period of experimentation and self-exploration.

Nothing more.

What she doesn't know is how much I love the taste, feel, and smell of another woman. How I love sucking Marcel's dick after it's been coated in another woman's juices; although that—Marcel fucking his dick into another woman raw—has only happened twice and with the same woman. Nairobia. All others have been sexed using condoms.

But with Nairobia, it felt right. And it's what the three of us wanted.

To fuck and be fucked…raw.

Jasmine gives me an astonished look. “Ohmygod! Girl, you have got to be kidding me. You mean to tell me, you'd be okay with Marcel sleeping with another woman?”

I nod. “A one-night stand is simply about sex. So yes. If Marcel wanted to share his dick with another woman, I'd let him. The physical act is of no threat to me. At the end of the day, I know Marcel loves me. And I know, without question, that he's
in love
with me. I have him emotionally.”

She shakes her head. “Girrrl, you're more woman than I'd ever be to be okay with some shit like that. Emotional connections or not, love should keep his dick in his goddamn pants. Trust. If Stevie ever cheats on me, I'm taking his ass to the cleaners. And he knows it.”

“Well…” I pause when the waiter returns to see if we're enjoying our meals. We nod in unison. He smiles. Tells us if we need anything else to let him know. Then whisks off to a nearby table. “For me it isn't cheating, if I've given him permission to indulge if that's what
he
feels he wants to do. But he understands that that works both ways.”

She grunts, twisting her lips. “Mmph. The one thing I am not ever signing up for is having some side bitch disrupt my home.”

“Well…” I pause again when then maître d' stops by the table in all of his deliciousness to see how we are enjoying our dining experience. “Everything is fabulous,” I say, grinning; almost certain I have spinach stuck in between my teeth. I glide my tongue over my teeth. Then reach for my glass of water, and take several sips. “I always enjoy eating here.”

He smiles. “I'm glad to hear that. We appreciate your patronage.” He looks over at Jasmine. “And you? Did you find everything to your liking?”

“Oh, yes. Everything is delicious.”

He nods, smiling. Tells us to let him know if he can be of further assistance, then makes his rounds to the next few tables. Jasmine and I both eye him.

Ooh, I bet he has a long, thick dick with lots of veins and a big meaty head. Mmm. I bet Marcel would enjoy him in our bed.

“Girl, if I were single and slutty, I'd suck his dick raw and swallow my way back to
Roots
.”

I laugh, almost choking on my drink. “Okay, Miss Lollipop Lipz. With a
Zee
.”

She smacks her lips together. “That's right. Get it right.”

I shake my head. “Girl, you're a damn mess.”

“So,” Jasmine says, taking a quick sip of her drink. “You were getting ready to say something before Mister Tall Dark and Delicious came over.”

I take a sip of my drink as well, then set it down on the table. “Oh, right. I was going to say the
side bitch
—as you called her, isn't the problem. She's never the problem. She's not the one who disrupts anything. It's the one who invites her into his life. But I thought we were talking about simply going out and fucking someone else. Not having an affair with them. Those are two different things. Fucking someone once doesn't constitute as an affair, in my eyes. But if there's a side chick in the picture, then it's an affair. Now if Marcel were to have an affair with someone, then that is something I might struggle with.”

She gives me a confused look. “Well, what's the difference? He's still fucking someone else.” She finishes her drink in three long gulps while waiting for my response. It's still cheating,” she says as she motions for the waiter.

“Hon, it's not cheating if it's mutually agreed on.” I pause when the waiter returns to our table, and Jasmine orders another drink. “You asked me what I'd do if Marcel cheated on me,” I continue when the waiter is no longer in earshot. “And I'm simply saying he has no reason to ever cheat on me.”

“Well, what if he did? Would you want to know about it?”

I take another sip of my drink. “Of course I would. I have a right to know. And I have a right to decide how I want to deal with it.”

“But what if he didn't tell you? Would you leave him?”

I shift in my seat. Run a hand through my hair. “No, I wouldn't leave him. I married Marcel with the intention of growing old with him, till death do us part, so leaving him isn't something I entertain. Would I be disappointed? Yes. Would I be hurt? I'm sure I would. Why? Because like I said, there's no reason for him to ever do anything behind my back. And vice versa. Marcel extends to me the same opportunity to sleep with other people if I choose to. Marcel is everything to me. So anything I experience sexually, I intend on experiencing it with him included. Period.”

She blinks. “And have you?”

I feign ignorance. “Have I what?”

She leans in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Slept with other men?” I tell her I have. “Ohmygod! You tramp. I hate you. Stevie would blow a lid if I even thought to part my lips and tell him I wanted to fuck someone else. And I know as greedy and selfish as I am, I'd be ready to slice off his dick and toss it in a meat grinder if he came to me with that. I'm not one for sharing, especially when it comes to my man. And neither is he.”

“Trust me. I definitely understand.”

The waiter returns with Jasmine's drink, and sets it down in front of her.

“So let me ask you this,” she continues when he walks off. “I know you've said many times how well Mar
Sell
satisfies you sexually. Then if that were so, why would you need, or even want, to sleep with another man?”

I smile, sliding my bang over forehead, tucking the curled end behind my ear. “It's not that I
need
to sleep with other men. But I enjoy it because it adds excitement. There's not much Mar
Sell
and I wouldn't do to please the other. We both do a wonderful job at satisfying each other. But we're also always looking at ways to fulfill each other's fantasies. So if having someone else share our bed is a part of said fantasy, then we do what we can to make it happen. In the end, we are both pleasured and well-satisfied.”

I swallow back the rest of my drink, slowly starting to feel the effects of the Absolut and Cointreau. “Wait. Why are we having this discussion, anyway? Is there something going on with you and Stevie that you wish to talk about?”

She shifts in her seat. Takes two gulps of her drink. Then tells me she thought she was going to have to cut up his clothes and claw out his eyes a few months ago when he started acting distant, not wanting to sex her down as much.

“Girl, I'm embarrassed to say this, but I literally worked myself up thinking Stevie was fucking his secretary, or one of his paralegals. You should have seen me doing drop-ins two and three times a week at random times trying to catch the bitch with her panties wrapped around her ankles. I even cornered her ass and told her I had my eyes on her.”

I gasp. “Girl, no.”

She hangs her head. “Girl, yes. I went there. Every ounce of class and charm school etiquette went out the window once my imagination went to the left. You know a horny, wet pussy will have you doing and thinking some crazy shit when it's not being taken care of at home.”

All I can do is laugh at her nutty ass.

At nine o'clock, after three more rounds of cosmos, we're finally ready to go and the check arrives. I pull out my AMEX to pay the tab, but Jasmine insists on paying the two hundred-dollar bill. I agree only if she allows me to pay for the tip. I reach in my wallet and pull out a hundred-dollar bill, handing it to her.

Once the bill is paid, we gather our things. “Girl, I needed this,” she says, pushing open the glass doors and stepping out into the cool night air.

I smile. “Likewise.” I wait with her outside of the restaurant while she hails a taxi, then give her a hug and kiss when one pulls up and stops for her. “Girl, it was good seeing you. Thanks for dinner.”

She hugs me back. “No, thank you for always being here for me. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

I smile. “That's what sisters are for. I love you.”

“Ooh, and I love you more,” she says as she opens the cab door and slides in. I shut the door behind her, then wave as the driver pulls off.

Just as I'm making my way to my car, my cell rings. I maneuver the takeout bag in my hand, fishing out my phone down in my handbag. “Hello.”

“You good?”

I smile. “Always.”

“Cool. I got two hard dicks here waiting for you.”

I lick my lips. “I'm on my way.”

Marcel

Dick slaps my lips, hard and thick. And I try to keep from scowling. Real shit, yo. I have to catch myself from snapping on this muhfucka. I know it's all a sex game. A role. But still. I'm not used to a muhfucka slapping my mouth up with his muthafuckin' dick.

I look up at Bret, then quickly glance over at Marika, who's on her knees alongside me—one hand diddling her clit, the other playing with her breasts. Her glossy lips curl upward. Anticipation and lust sparkle in her eyes. She's finally getting her wish.

To have me sucking another muhfucka's dick with her.

“C'mon, man, suck this dick,” Bret says, pressing the head of his dick to my closed mouth.

I breathe deeply and exhale slowly, trying to get my mind right. Sucking my own shit is one thing, but having my lips wrapped around another muhfucka's dick is taking shit to a whole other level.

And, yeah, it was my idea for Bret to come through when he hit me up earlier and said he was in the city for a few days. Hell, after tossing back a few shots of Rémy white, my hormones were wide open and I wanted to get my freak on. And I already knew Marika was down for the get down since she'd already mentioned earlier this morning that she'd love to rock with him again. So when I hit her up and told her I had two hard dicks here for her, she knew what time it was.

So here he is.

Standing in front of Marika and me, with his balls dangling and the eye of his dick, wet and sticky, staring me dead in the face.

“Suck it,” he murmurs. “Slow and deep.” His tone is all husky and gruff with horny desire. The muhfucka licks his lips. He's been tryna get me to wet his dick for a minute. And now the moment has come.

Real shit, when I fuck with a muhfucka, kissing is a go. Jacking cocks is a go. Grinding dick to dick, no doubt…is a go. Ass eating, or rimming as it's called, is a go. But, uh, um…dick sucking, except for my own, hasn't been on the menu.

Until now.

Mouth open, tongue thick and wet, I bring my lips to his dick and kiss; swallow; lap it with my tongue, then run it along my lips.

“Aaah, shit.” He grabs the back of my head. “Damn, man. Them fucking sexy-ass lips feel so good on my dick.” He thrusts his hips, fucks my mouth open wider.

Marika moans. “That's right, Marcel. Suck his dick, baby.”

Bret grunts. “Uhh, fuck. Shit. Suck it deeper, man. Let me feel that throat.” He grinds into my face, the head of his dick, splashing into a mouthful of spit. “Damn, I wanna fuck your mouth, baby. Aaah, fuck…”

I look up at this muhfucka likes he's a three-headed clown. How the fuck is he gonna tryna to gut my neck out when I told his muhfuckin' ass to go easy? Yeah, he's seen me suck my own shit, so he knows sucking a dick isn't some new shit for me. Sucking
his
is, though. And I need this muhfucka to relax. Let me get my mind right.

I grip his shit at the base, then bob my head, controlling how much dick hits the back of my throat. But, yo, sucking this muhfucka's dick on my knees isn't the move for a muhfucka like me. Nah, fuck that. I'm six-eight, feel me? What I look like in this submissive permission? On my knees, no less, like I'm about to worship this muhfucka's cock with him towering over me. Nah. I'm a dominant muhfucka. And, yeah, I gave Marika my word that I'd put in some throat work with her. And I'ma real muhfucka. I stay true to my word. So I'ma suck the shit outta his muhfuckin' dick. But not like this.

I roll my tongue around his dick twice, then come up for air, pulling back from his dickhead.

Bret's eyes snap open. “Yo, why you stop? That shit was feeling good as hell.”

I stand. “I got you, playboy. But I ain't about to be on my knees worshipping your dick, or submitting to you, yo.”

I grab him by the dick and pull him into me, kissing him on the mouth. I jerk his dick, smearing his precum over the head. He groans into my mouth, sucking my tongue into his mouth.