"Why didn’t you tell her, you’ve already been there and done that?" Kori turned her attention back to her food, then looked up. "Yeah, like Toni Braxton said, he wasn’t man enough for you right?" Kori sang before filling her mouth.
Persha laughed and nodded agreeing, but deep inside she knew the truth. And even after all these years, when it came to Clarke Hudson, unfortunately, her love for him was still all too painfully real to deny.
~The Thrill is gone
"I just can’t baby, I’m so sorry, but you know how I feel about doing that," Kelsa, Clarke’s wife said in a whiny voice, the frown was still plastered on her face.
He was fuming as he sat staring down at her pathetic ass. She was kneeling down in front of his open legs, his dick was rock hard and he needed release.
"So lemme’ get this straight, you don’t mind when I do it to you, but you can’t hook a brotha back up right?" He shrugged, disgusted and frustrated.
"Clarke, now, you know I try my best to keep you happy and satisfied. But you asking me to do something that I’m very uncomfortable with. You know I love you, but I just can’t do it baby, I can’t." Kelsa fell back onto her butt. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
"’Sides it’s not like I ever ask you to go down on me, you do that because you want to." She was no longer looking at her husband. It was as if she couldn’t face him.
"So you trynta’ tell me that you don’t like it when I do it?" Clarke felt himself getting heated. He looked at His wife. She was about 5’4 a with a Mocha complexion and light eyes, but at this very moment she was nothing more than a child who didn’t want to step up to her womanly duties. And he didn’t have time to playing her childish game.
"That isn’t even what I’m saying, let’s just stop talking about it, ‘cause I feel like you’re just gonna start twisting my words around," she sobbed.
"I just don’t understand why a man can’t even get his dick sucked at home by his own fucking wife!" Clarke snapped.
He heard her sniffling but he didn’t care, he was sick and tired of her shit. She wanted to sit back and reap all of the benefits of him pleasing her, but when it came down to what he wanted, she wanted to sit up there acting like a child. Clarke looked down at his fading erection. He thought about how things had gotten so heated between them in the first place.
Kelsa had walked into the bathroom just as he stepped out of the shower. One sight of him naked caused her to rush him. So he moved it into their bedroom, quickly undressing her and laying her on top of their bed.
"Oh, yes baby," she had squealed.
Clarke spread her legs and sucked her dry until she hollered. Then instead of entering her, he figured he’d try to get back some of what he had given. And Kelsa was doing pretty good at first. She started kissing his nipples, and playing with his chest. When he sat upright and she eased herself between his legs, he actually got excited, he thought she was finally going to do it. Nothing felt better to Clarke that a great blowjob. Hell, any kind of blowjob really.
When Kelsa started kissing his bellybutton and palming his balls he just knew he had finally broken her down. For years he had been trying to convince his wife that there was nothing wrong with sucking her man off, but she refused to give in. She was always talking about how nasty it was, at times he wanted to say he married her thinking he had gotten himself a nasty girl, shit, there’s was nothing wrong with being nasty when you’re married he surmised.
Things were going good at first, Kelsa started kissing his thighs, playfully biting at them and squeezing his balls with a bit of force, just the way he liked it. The shit had him all worked up and he was ready to get in her mouth. But the more he moaned and squealed with delight, the more she kissed near or around his crotch.
Finally Clarke put his hands on top of her head and tried to guide her closer to the target, but Kelsa still managed to ease away.
He let her kiss some more, one time she even allowed his member to rub against her cheek, but that’s as far as she would go.
"’Come on baby, just kiss it," he encouraged. "You can at least lick it a little for me."
She gazed up at him and shook her head saying no. Soon she eased back down onto the floor and away from him completely.
"Clarke!" Kelsa snapped.
He looked at her, "Yeah?"
"So what’s it gonna be? I asked you a question," she huffed.
"Oh, my bad, my mind was somewhere else, whassup?"
"I asked if you don’t want to have sex with me now just because I won’t, you know, go down on you."
"Nah, nah, it ain’t even like that, here, why don’t you come up here, I’m not into making you do anything you really don’t want to do. If you don’t like giving head you ain’t gonna be any good at it anyway."
Kelsa wasted no time crawling back onto the bed. When Clarke saw her lie on her back and spread her legs, he nearly wanted to bolt from the room. Their love making had become so mundane. It was like the missionary position was all she knew.
First came the kissing, then sucking nipples a few times, then he’d stroke her to see if she was wet and he’d enter her. Kelsa usually just laid there, she didn’t want to let him do it from the side, didn’t want him to take her from behind and she sure wasn’t about to ride. He was fed up, but he’d fuck her and get it over with. At least she laid there and allowed him to bust a nut.
Clarke crawled on top of his wife, entered her, closed his eyes and immediately started thinking about Persha. Because he knew, she’d do it all, and she’d like it too, or well at least she used to. One thing he knew for sure was, he’d have to find out as soon as possible.
~ The Seduction
When Persha had called Clarke saying she had just been thinking about him, he suggested they meet up. It had been two days since their chance encounter at the restaurant, and although her brain knew better, her heart wouldn’t allow her to pass up an opportunity to see him alone and in the privacy of her own home.
When she told herself it would be a great chance to ‘catch up’ she shook the thought from her mind. She had stopped lying to herself years ago, she knew for sure she wanted to do a whole lot more than just catch up with Clarke. But, she did decide, she wouldn’t make the first move, if and when he did, she wouldn’t turn him away, but she wouldn’t strike first.
The moment Clarke knocked on the door; Persha couldn’t differentiate between the knock and the sound of her pounding heart. She was more than just a little excited about seeing him, although thoughts of him being married stayed on her mind, it would take more than a ring to keep her away. She justified her forbidden lust for this sexy married man by telling herself he had been hers to begin with.
Persha pulled the door open and Clarke strolled in. He was carrying a vase of flowers that he put on a table in the foyer. He wore a pair of chocolate colored slacks and a fitted bronze colored silk shirt. She stood still at the door, leaning against it as he walked into her living room.
"And thanks for the flowers, they’re lovely," she managed.
"This is what’s lovely," he said looking around, "It’s nice, Shorty, real nice," he added.
Persha watched him closely as he looked around her place. Just when she thought she should offer up a tour of the place, he was in her face. The way she was pinned up against the door and he was moving in, she knew they were headed to a point of no return. But she didn’t care.
"Um," Persha licked her glossy lips. She silently kicked herself for not changing into a matching bra and panty set, the good stuff she wore when she knew she’d be getting busy.
"I’m so glad you like it," she cooed.
Their eyes met, and he stood so close and near, she could feel his warm mint laced breath bearing down on her face. After all these years, she still enjoyed having him close.
"I like everything I’m seeing in here," he said. Clarke moved a step closer, taking up what little room separated them.
Before she could blink again, his lips were on top of hers. His tongue was strong, it shoved its way into her mouth, flickering along her gums and pushing toward her throat. Persha kept up, struggling to suckle his with hers. It didn’t take long for the panting to start. She clawed at his bald head, rubbing it vigorously.
He pulled back, took her face into his hands and planted wet kisses all over her cheeks, nose and lips. As this was going on, Persha started tugging at his shirt, she managed to pull it out of his slacks, and ran her hands up and down his moist bare chest. She inhaled his scent, filling her lungs with as much of his aroma as she could stand.
"Emmmm," she moaned.
Clarke kissed behind her ear, and sucked her earlobe. It turned her on immensely. By now his hands had wandered beneath her blouse, and into her bra. When he pulled at the lace cup and squeezed her nipple between his forefinger and thumb, the sensation brought water to her eyes, but still she liked it.
"I want, no I need to taste you, to have you in my mouth, inside me," she cried.
Clarke ran his fingers through her hair and grabbed a fistful of it. He pulled her face into his and kissed her again, this time harder than before. When they pulled apart again, they were both struggling for air. Clarke took her by the shoulders and moved her away from the door. With his body now leaning against it, he pulled the shirt over his head.
His chest, with its magnificent muscles and ripples, was so pretty, and even better than before, she decided. Using her tongue Persha slopped from his nipple, down the center to his bellybutton, then back up again.
"Take what you want Shorty… it’s all here waiting for you," he said.
Persha dropped to her knees and used trembling fingers to unbuckle his belt. She fumbled at first, but finally gripped the leather strap and tugged at it to loosen the clasp. If he was just as eager, he masked it better.
"Hurry," he breathe.
Her eyes glanced up briefly then she mumbled, "I am." Before she returned to his belt, she French kissed the side of his bare hip where love handles would normally be on a 34 year old man.
Persha savored the salty taste of his skin. He yelped as she seductively worked his flesh with her tongue. With the belt undone, she glanced up again and smiled.
The room was quiet, so much so that every breath they took made sounds that filled the room. Their breathing had calmed a bit, but there was no denying the building passion that had erupted the moment Clarke stepped into the room. When his pants fell to the floor, his erection stood stiff and long.
She smiled as she greeted her old friend with a wet and wanting mouth.
"Aaah. SSsssssss," Clarke moaned.
He felt bigger than she remembered. Persha tried to deep throat him, but settled on sucking after she had to fight the desire to gag. She wanted to be better than his wife. She sucked, then raked along his shaft with her teeth.
Clarke’s eyes rolled back up into his head as he clutched Persha’s head to hold her in place. When she felt his body quiver she suckled the head even more and pulled herself back.
"Damn girl, that was tight," Clarke said, still struggling to breathe steady.
When Persha stood, he reached into his pocket and pulled a black and gold wrapper from his pocket. He used his teeth to rip the packet open, strapped the condom on and pulled up her skirt.
Persha looked down at his covered erection and smiled.
He guided her body toward the nearby sofa. He tore off her panties, bent her over the back of the couch, and rammed himself into her.
"Oooh, Clarke, Oh God Clarke," she cried.
"Yes Persha?" He worked his hips.
"Welcome home baby," she huffed as she looked back over her shoulder, smiled and bucked, shoving her hips to meet his thrust. "Wwel-come home."
"I don’t know why I ever left," he said, as he used his thigh to spread her legs even farther apart. Clarke dipped his legs ever so slightly and held on to her by the waist. He rotated his hips, licked her back and moved at a wild pace.
She matched his every move. She loved him taking her from behind. His strokes were long and strong, she enjoyed his passion. She struggled to squeeze her walls around him.
Nearly an hour later, they collapsed next to each other on the floor. With her chest heaving up and down and his moving just as much, they gazed into each other’s eyes.
"Damn, that shit was right on time Shorty. I see you ain’t lost a damn thing over the years huh?"
"Whew! I could say the same to you," she smiled. "You want something to drink?"
"Yup, then I wanna eat something, and I ain’t talking about no food either," he grinned.
Persha stumbled to her feet, kicked the torn panty over to the side and made her way to the kitchen. She knew then she was hooked.
All over again.
***
Three days later at work, when she should’ve been focusing on writing out new policies, Persha was re reading the lovely email Clarke had sent hours prior. It was a poem titled My Someone Who.
My needs are small my wants are few,
All I need is someone who…
Someone who I can call in the wee hours of the night,
Someone who takes me for me whether I’m wrong or right…
Someone who can stand the laughter, despite the rain…
Someone who know the heart, and yet the pain,
Someone who listens and protects my secrets,
Someone who knows imperfect love and still wants to keep it…
Someone who can make me laugh when I want to cry,
Someone who cares whether I live or die…
Someone who will take my faults and not cast blame,
Someone who will still love me all the same…
Someone who will catch my tears before they fall,
Someone who will answer each and every call…
All of these things, and so many more I have found in you…
My thoughtful someone who, I love you, you know I do.
She had nearly memorized the poem by the time he called. It warmed her heart to know the years had done little to diminish what they had shared in the past. When she saw his number appear on the caller ID, her heart nearly stopped.