Between the Sheets (9781476775807) (2 page)

And here we are sixteen years later, and nothing's changed. I am still in love with my husband, more so now than ever before. With him, there are no sexual limits. He has pushed and tested and tried every one over the years, taking me to places beyond my own imagination. And there is
nothing
I will not do to pleasure him. There is
nothing
he will not do to pleasure me. My fantasies are his. And his deepest desires are mine. All within reason, of course.

And, together, we are a never-ending inferno. A wild, thrashing river of hot sensations, forbidden desires, and fulfilled fantasies.

I gasp as Marcel sucks on my labia like it's a juicy peach and my heart nearly stops beating as my nipples pebble and my pussy floods with more liquid warmth. “Oh, yes, baby,” I whimper, grinding into his mouth. “I love you, I love you, I looove you…”

I fight to keep my eyes open, fight through the glaze of encroaching pleasure slowly blinding me. I don't know how much longer I can hold on. I am hanging on the edge of the cliff, losing myself, my mind falling deeper into the haze as he pulls his fingers from between my slick heat and brings them up to my lips.

“Taste your pussy,” he murmurs, sliding two fingers into my drooling mouth. I flick my tongue over his fingers, tasting the sweet thickness of my cunt cream, sucking him into me, pretending it is his thick dick in my mouth. Wishing it was.

Oh how I wish, yearn, for him to inch up over my body, hoist my legs up over my head and aim the thick, bulbous head of his dark, veiny dick at the opening of my slit, then fuck his way into the scorching heat. But he doesn't.

Instead, he pulls his fingers out of my mouth and sucks them into his own, sliding them in and out, then flicking his tongue over each finger.

“I want you to come for me, Marika. Give me that sweet, juice, baby. Squirt it all over my face…” His gaze shimmers with heat and want—and determination. Then his face disappears, again, his tongue circling over my clit, then plunging back into my hot pussy, darting in and out, in and out, hard, fast.

Marcel slides a wet finger along the crack of my ass—my asshole is juicy and slick from my pussy and his spit—then pushes it inside of me. In synchronized motion, his finger and tongue work in harmony with Jill Scott's “He Loves Me.” He tongue-fucks my pussy. Finger-fucks my ass.

And now I am gasping for breath. Sweet torture. That's what this is.

I open my mouth to speak, to murmur, to moan, to babble…anything, but nothing comes out. Mouth agape, my eyes float around in their sockets as a jolt, the tingles, a surge of rippling fire, coils through my body and causes my pussy to spasm uncontrollably.

I am overwhelmed.

Powerless.

The searing heat completely takes over.

And I come. And come. And come. Clasping my thighs around my lover's head, I squirt and soak him, wetting the sheets beneath me.

Marcel

“Yo, what's good, my beauties, cuties, hookers, hoes, pimps, and playboys…this is ya boy, Mar
Sell
, coming at you live with another steamy segment of
Creepin' ‘n' Freakin' After Dark.
All of my peeps who get down with me know how I like to serve it up: Hot, raw ‘n' ohhhh so nasty. So if you're just tuning in to the Tri-State area's hottest radio station, 93.3
The Heat
, sit back…relax…light a candle…pour yourself a glass of your favorite wine…pull out your favorite lube…your favorite toy…or hit up that special someone…and prepare to be stimulated beyond your own imagination as we get into tonight's topic of putting in that tongue ‘n' neck work.

“That's right, my freaky peeps. Oral sex. It's not an option. It's a requirement. And tonight it's going down. But before we get it poppin', we're gonna slowly heat you up with this sexy Janet Jackson joint, ‘Warmth.' I don't know 'bout you, but I like it when it's real wet ‘n' nasty…”

I adjust my microphone as Janet whispers over the air about nothing comparing to the warmth of her mouth. I'm looking forward to tonight's segment, already anticipating the freak-nasty comments callers would make about their dick-sucking-and pussy-eating sexapades. All things real, I love getting my dick sucked. Love fucking it down into a wet, tight throat. Hearing them juicy smack-suck sounds coming out of a mouth while I'm sliding this dick in ‘n' out turns me the fuck on.

Shit.

I slip my hand down into my sweats and stroke myself on the sly underneath my desk; the urgent need to bust this nut deep inside a wet mouth slowly swells up in my balls.

I reach for my buzzing cell with my free hand. I smile, opening the text message. O
OH
I
LOVE HEARING UR VOICE OVER THE AIRWAVES
. C
AN'T WAIT TO HEAR TONIGHT'S HOT TOPIC.
I
BET UR ALREADY PLAYING W/THAT JUICY DICK

I grin, removing my hand from my sweats, temporarily leaving my thick, aching dick stretching along my thigh. I text back, U
KNO ME SO WELL, BABY.
C
AN'T WAIT 2 STRETCH DAT WET PUSSY N FEEL ALL THIS DICK DEEP UP N U

Less than three seconds, another text comes through.
HMMM
!
THIS PUSSY MISSES U
!
U TEASED N TONGUED ME REAL GOOD 2NIGHT. I CAN STILL FEEL UR TONGUE INSIDE OF ME.
U
LEFT ME SO WET N HORNY 4 MORE OF U

I smile, sliding my hand back down into my sweats, then quickly glance over into the control room at my producer, Nina, who is staring back at me licking her succulent lips. I wink at her. She smiles, shaking her head.

Janet Jackson fades out and Marsha Ambrosius' “69” eases over the airwaves as I squeeze the head of my dick. I'm ready to fuck. Ready to gut a throat and beat some pussy up. I glance down at my watch.
Two more hours to go.
I've been working the 8 p.m. to 12 a.m. slot on Thursday nights at the radio station for the past seven years. It was supposed to be a temp thing, but when the ratings shot through the fuckin' roof and peeps started calling in begging for me to come through and hit 'em with that nasty heat, that sealed the deal.

And here I am one night a week, keeping the heat cranked up and the freaks
turnt
up. Not because I need the paper. Nah, I'm paid out the ass. I'm on the air doing what I do because—despite having built my own empire—my first love has, and will always be, radio broadcasting. Being on the air as a radio personality is all I ever dreamed of as a kid. And it's what I went to school for.

I look over and eye Nina, who gives me the signal that we're back on the air in five…four…three…two…one…

“What's good, my peeps. We're back on the air ready to turn up. And tonight we're talking about putting your mouth on it. That's right, my freaky peeps. Sucking. Licking. Slurping. Tonguing it down. Fellatio. Top. Dome. Head. Neck. Becky. Brain. Pole Smoke. Knob Slob. Whatever lil' term you wanna call it, I wanna hear from the ladies, first. Where are all my bobble heads ‘n' deep throat divas at? Holla at ya boy. 212-FreakMe.”

Instantly the lines light up.

I grin.
Aiight. Let's see how many cock swabbers are callin' in.

“Hello?”

“What's good, beautiful? You're on the air.” There's a bunch of unnecessary feedback. “Yo, do me a favor, love. Turn ya radio down or
off
for me.”
Why the fuck I gotta keep telling these dumb hoes this shit?
I shake my head.

“Oh. I'm sorry. Is that better?”

“True. What's good…whom am I speaking to?”

“Oh, hi. This is Ciara.”

“Uh, ohhkay, Ciara; you giving out them deep throat specials or what? Talk to me, ma-ma.”

She giggles. “Umm, not really. I mean, I've tried it a few times, but I'm not that good at it. I'm hoping someone will call in, so I can get some tips to help me get better at it.”

“Aiight, baby. Hold tight. In the meantime, ma-ma, the best way to get them skills up is practice, practice, practice. The more dingdong you suck, the better you'll get. So drop down ‘n' get ya suck on, baby. And remember: No teeth. And use lots of spit. Next caller.”

“Hey, Mar
Sell.”
She smacks in my ear. I frown. “This Quita aka Head Nurse aka Bobble Head aka Slurpy aka Prime Time Neck Work aka Deep Throat Diva, straight from Brownsville.”

Damn, this dick-suckin' ho gotta lot of nicknames.
“Aiight, Quita. What's good, baby…?”

“This head game, boo. That's all I like to do. I can suck a whole block ‘n' still want more.”

“Damn, baby. What, you gotta motor in ya neck?”

She laughs. “Nonstop, no-gag, neck action. East New York! We go hard! Make a niggah nut quick. And
what?
”

“Oh, aiight, aiight, baby. I ain't mad atcha. How often you puttin' in that neck work?”

“If not every day, then at least three, four, times a week. And all weekend long. I like to throw head parties.” I blink. Ask her what that entails. She smacks and chews in my ear. “Oh, it's where I rent a room ‘n' invite like five to ten niggahs to come through ‘n' we drink ‘n' smoke, then I give 'em all the business.”

Goddam! This freaky broad's sucking dick all willy-nilly.
“Oh, word? Aiight, aiight. You the neighborhood cock-washer then.”

She smacks in my ear again. “Somethin' like that. I just love suckin' di—
bleep.
”

“You swallow?”

“Swallow?”
she says indignantly as if I've offended her. “I'm a
guzzler
. Don't get it twisted, bae. I'ma guzzler, baby. And
what?
”

“Then suck on, suck on, ma-ma. Just know you can't draw a pension down on ya knees. Next caller. You're on the air with ya boy, Mar
Sell
.”

“Yeah, this is Trixie, from Hillside.”

“Oh, aiight. What's good, Trixie. You givin' head, baby?”

She sucks her teeth. “No. I'm not doin' none'a that nasty shit. And all y'all hoes out there drankin' ‘n' sloshin' watermelon all around in your filthy mouths are all a buncha nasty-asses. Ratchet-ass tramps. Dic—
bleep
—suckin' tricks. I hope you nasty bitches get throat cancer. All of you nasty whores going to hell in a gasoline hand basket.”

“Whoa, whoa…slow down,
mami
. Yo, you gotta man?”

“Yeah, why?” she says defensively. I ask her how long they've been rocking. She says three months. “What my man got to do with all them nasty dic—
bleep
—suckin' hoes out there? He ain't goin' nowhere.”

“Oh, you think? Well, good luck with that,” I say, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. It's mind-boggling how there are many whack muhfuckas out there who
still
don't/won't suck dick or eat pussy. “Know this Trixie, baby. If you plan on keepin' him, you had better learn to do some tongue tricks 'cause if you ain't toppin' him off, he's eventually gonna be out getting it somewhere else. A wet mouth is a wet mouth. And you better hope it's with another chick. Be well.”

I hang up.

“Yo, my freaky peeps, I'ma say this. Lonely has a face ‘n' it's a chick who ain't suckin' a dic—
bleep
. Next caller. You're on the air.”

“This is Wanda from Jersey City. I don't know where you're getting your callers from, but they definitely can't be black.” I frown. Ask her why she says that. “Because no
real
black woman is sucking no
dic
—
bleep
all willy-nilly and reckless like that. I'm sorry. I don't know not one black woman who loves giving head like that or who just goes around putting her mouth on some random man's penis.”

“Well, baby. Dingaling sucking is real. Sorry to hear you're not surrounded by head doctors. Or maybe you are but they do what they do ‘n' just ain't telling
you
because they know how judgmental you are.”

“I'm
not
judgmental. Trust. I just know that black women don't suck unless they're getting something out of it.”

“Oh, but they are. They're getting a hot juicy nut. But thanks for the Public Service Announcement, baby. Let's keep hope alive. Next caller, you're on the air…”

“Hi, boo. My name is Sabrina, from Irvington.”

“What's good, Sabrina from Irvington…please tell me, you puttin' in that throat work?”

“All day every day, boo. My man stays sucked. And I'm a proud black sistah who loves cock ‘n' cum. Mmph. You don't know? You betta ask somebody. Them uptight bitches who ain't sucking need to get up off them pedestals ‘n' drop down on them knees ‘n' get their bobble on. Sucking dic—
bleep
does the body good!”

I chuckle. “I heard that, baby. So tell us. What is it about puttin' in that mouth work that turns you on?”