The Sweetest Taboo (13 page)

“I don’t want Troi.”

“You have to go home. Jeff could come out at any minute.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” He pressed his lips against hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Tell me we’re finished,” he said while slipping his tongue in and out of her mouth. “Say it.” He began to play with the sash on her wrap dress.

“Britt—please,” she whined, snatching the sash from his hands and looking toward the door once more, her heart pounding so loud that she was sure Jeff heard it. “He gon’ come out the bathroom and he gon’ fuckin’—”

Britt cut her off by grabbing her face, cupping her chin and turning her around, “Fuck that niggah.” He kissed her roughly on the lips.

“Oh, God.” She broke the kiss and stomped her feet. “You gotta stop…for real. Please just leave.”

“Is it me, or you don’t get it? I ain’t goin’ no motherfuckin’ where.” He snatched her sash back, this time untying it, revealing her nude panty and bra set. He always loved the butterfly tattoo on her left breast, so he kissed it. Placing his hands around her waist he said, “Now, all you gotta do is tell me to my face.” He ran his hands across her hard nipples. Biting them through her bra he said, “I’m listening.”

Yuri’s heart was beating so loud she felt it was only a matter of time before the thumping would burst her eardrums. She loved being pinned up by Britt in her husband’s apartment, yet she was too scared to enjoy the risk of being caught. “I’m begging you, please.”

“Don’t beg, the shit doesn’t work.” He attempted to pull her panties down. “Step out of ’em,” he said, as she snatched them back up.

“N-n-nooo, baby,” she stuttered as her pussy dripped. “What are you doing?” she asked sternly. “You fuckin’ crazy?”

“And you fuckin’ tryin’ me…now take ’em off, Yuri.”

“No, Britt, stop playing.” She gripped the strings of her bikini panties tightly.

“You not listening now?” He moved her hands. “You want me to rip ’em off?”

“Yes—no—baby, please.”

“Then, take ’em off.”

She did as she was told and he placed them in his left pants pocket. Playing with her pussy lips he said, “Tell me you love me and then swear that you won’t do this shit again.”

“I can’t.”

“You got a lotta ass-whippin’s as a kid, didn’t you, cause you hardheaded as hell.” He unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out through the slit. Rubbing the head of it against her soaked lips he said, “I swear to God I’ll fuck the shit outta you right here.” He picked her up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She nervously complied.

“Now tell me, or I swear I’ll put my dick in.”

“Don’t do that,” she moaned, desperately wanting to ride his dick. She knew this wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help it. She not only missed fucking Britt, she missed his smell, his touch, the way he drooled in his sleep. She missed the hell out of him, and with him clutching her by the waist and threatening to fuck her, her mind was gone to a place beyond space.

“Stop being so fuckin’ stubborn.” He pushed his dick in and she screamed.

“Yuri!” Jeff yelled through the bathroom door. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Her voice quivered.

“I dare you to tell him you love this dick,” Britt whispered.

“No…yes…Jeff, I’m okay.”

They heard the shower resume running. Britt stroked and said, “Hurry up and say it.”

“I love you,” she whimpered, “and this won’t happen again.”

“That’s what I thought.” He stroked her at least four more times before sucking his inner cheek and making himself stop. “Meet me in an hour so we can finish.” He unwrapped her legs and placed her back on the floor.

Taking a deep breath and a sigh of relief that they didn’t get caught, Yuri retied her sash as she looked down and spotted Britt’s dick. It was the prettiest dick she’d ever seen, hard and long and thick like a fudge log, it looked so sweet she knew she could eat it. The more she stared the more her mouth watered.

“You wanna suck it, don’t you?” he said more as a statement than as a question.

“Yes…” She bit the corner of her lip. “It’s soooooo bigggggg…and it’s sooooo thick…and if we get caught…I’m moving in with you.”

Britt caressed her face as she squatted and rested on her knees. “Don’t worry ma’, I got you.” She grabbed his dick and slowly worked it into her mouth; stroking each inch with her tongue and playing with his oozing precum.

“I knew you missed it.” Britt rubbed the back of her neck and looked toward the bathroom door, the door was still closed and they could still hear the shower running. “Touch your pussy.”

She did as she was told. She slid two of her fingers between her aching lips and twirled them inside. Simultaneously sucking his dick and smearing her juices all over her clit, she began to moan until she felt like she was going to cry.

“That fat pussy nice and wet?”

“Yes.”

“Remember when I sucked it…it was like candy…wet, sticky and sweet. I started off by biting it and kissing it. Then I stuck my tongue into it and you came on my tongue. You gon’ do that again, baby? You gon’ fill my mouth with cum?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, baby.” Britt felt his nut creeping up and he knew Jeff’s shower had to be ending at any minute. “Hurry…make us cum and he better not come before we do.”

Flicking her clit and sucking his dick as fast she could, Yuri tried with all her might to have them climax together. As they heard the shower shut off, the nut rushed from the top of their heads and exploded. Britt’s nut slid down Yuri’s throat while her own made liquid between her thighs.

Quickly Britt slid his dick back in his pants and zipped them up. As he heard Jeff’s footsteps nearing, he reached down to help Yuri off the floor.

“How’d you get on the floor?” Jeff asked as he walked in the kitchen and looked at Yuri, who was still on her knees and clutching Britt’s hand.

“My foot.” Yuri got up and limped over to the counter, she knew she looked disheveled but she tried her best to play it off. “I think I twisted it.” She sat down and unbuckled her shoe. Feeling uneasy about Jeff staring at her, she asked Britt, “What about that chick you were seeing? How is she?”

“She got remarried on me.” He smirked. “Listen, I’ma get ready to roll.”

“Why you leaving so soon?” Jeff asked Britt, yet looking at Yuri. “Did she tell you what you needed to hear?”

“More than enough,” Britt said, shaking Jeff’s hand and turning to leave. “I can show myself out. Take care.”

Yuri stood by the counter as Jeff watched her and she watched Britt. Once Britt closed the front door, Jeff said, “You still got a thing for him?”

Seeing an opportunity, Yuri exploded, “What?! I…have had…enough of you and your mountain of accusations. Now you wanna accuse me of Britt? Who’s next, the doorman? Tell me something, Jeff, if you thought I was in love with Britt, then why did you let him in your house? Don’t even answer that, because it doesn’t even matter!” She slipped her shoe back on, grabbed her black clutch purse, and tucked it under her arm. “I need…to get away from you.” She picked up her keys. “And, by the way, happy motherfuckin’ anniversary.” Forgetting that she just pretended to have a limp, she stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

As she headed to the elevator she spotted Britt. “Wait,” she said to him.

Although his mouth didn’t say a word, his look said a million. They each stepped on the elevator and faced the door as it closed.

Drae

         “What I don’t understand is why pussies is always hatin’ on Nae-Nae!” Nae-Nae screamed as if he was making a public-service announcement.

It was Friday night and Drae, Nae-Nae and Yuri were hanging out at an uptown hole-in-the-wall called Queen of Sheba, a place where time stood still. Muddy Waters, Koko Taylor and Bobby “Blue” Bland were staples on the jukebox; naked black bulbs hung over the tables; there were no menus, but everyone knew what they served; and a good game of C-Lo was always going on.

“You feel me, Old Head?” Nae-Nae flung his wrist in the air and winked his eye at the owner’s brother Randy, who everyone knew was a sixty-seven-year-old latent faggot.

“I’m sho’ feelin’ you, Nathan.” He smiled at Nae-Nae, as he set three plates of fried chicken and waffles on the table. “And just so you know,” he whispered, “Nathan, I love that you call me ‘Old Head.’”

“Why?” Nae-Nae whispered back.

“’Cause Johnson finally gotta nickname.” He blushed. “Let me know when you ’bout to leave, Nathan.” And he turned to walk away.

“That’s exactly why Raphael bust all the windows outta your car,” Drae stated. “’Cause you a cheatin’ motherfucker.” She poured syrup on her waffle.

“Yuck,” Yuri said in disgust, while stuffing chicken in her mouth.

“It must be in a pussy’s nature to hate. And, for your information, Raphael was in the emergency room when my windows were bust out.”

“How’s Raphael doing?” Drae asked.

“He’s doing a little better. Our sex life is on hold for a little while because his knees are still sore right now.”

“Did I need to know that?” Yuri asked, putting her chicken down. “Now I can’t eat.”

“How did his knees get messed up?” Drae asked.

“He doesn’t know.” Nae-Nae rolled his eyes at Yuri. “He said whoever jumped him was so damn little he never saw ’im coming. Whoever it was had been there and gone before Raphael realized he’d had his ass kicked.”

“Why is shit always happening to y’all?” Yuri frowned.

“Y’all just some drama kings.” Drae sipped her drink.

“Speaking of drama, here come ya gurl.” Nae-Nae arched his eyebrows as they spotted Troi. “I can’t stand this bougie bitch…B.B.!” Nae-Nae screamed as she came to the table. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“Where else could I get chicken and waffles this time of night? Hello, everyone.” She waved at Yuri and Drae before taking a seat.

“Oh, Yuri, look at you.” She smiled.

“Hi, Troi, how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. And Drae, Nae-Nae.”

“Girl.” Drae smiled. “You look good.” Yuri kicked her under the table.

“Thank you.” Troi favored the actress Meagan Good. She leaned on one foot and smiled extra hard at Yuri. “I’m claiming all the things I left behind. Yuri, how’s Jeff?”

“About as well as your ex-husband.” Yuri ate a piece of waffle.

“Ahh haa!” Nae-Nae laughed. “That’s my bitch.” He gave Yuri a high five.

“Troi.” Drae gave Nae-Nae the evil eye. “Are you still practicing law?”

“Yes, actually I’m with Sony Music. Britt and I have been working closely together.”

“Whew, Yuri.” Nae-Nae wiped his brow. “Ring the alarm somebody!”

“So are you and Britt an item?” Yuri faked a smile. “Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

“I’m not sensing that you feel some kinda way, am I, Yuri?” Troi asked. “Because I know how you felt about him in high school, but obviously you married the best man for you. So, you don’t have an issue with me and Britt getting back together, do you?”

“Why would I have an issue?”

“I’m just asking. I mean, I thank you for being there for him, but I believe I got it from here.”

Troi’s order number was called as Randy motioned for her to come to the bar and collect her food. “Take care, everyone, our food is ready.”

Troi’s words stung Yuri like citrus piss invading a cracked lip. No, scratch that, it felt worse than that; Troi may as well have pulled out a blade from the side of her mouth and carved all of Yuri’s arteries out, at least Yuri would have a reason for not breathing.

Feeling she needed to come up for air, Yuri headed to the jukebox; the hem of her denim gauchos swayed in the swiftness of her walk, while her stiletto knee boots clapped against the tile floor like drums.

After debating if she should call Britt and cuss him out, she decided, at least for now, she would drop a quarter in the jukebox and have Elmore James sing to her about muddy shoes.

She sat down on the stool next to the jukebox and watched the makeshift dance floor fill with people.

On the other side of the room Drae carried on. “That’s what her ass fuckin’ get. See, I knew he was gon’ play her again.”

“And what the fuck is Hassan doing to you, Drae?” Nae-Nae asked. “Don’t forget who you talking to.”

Drae slid her chair back. “Before I have to check yo’ fuckin’ chin, I’ma go play me a game of C-Lo!” The wedge heels of her Coach boots stomped against the floor and her toned thighs made a statement as her black miniskirt clung to her ass.

“I came to collect yo’ money.” Drae parted the huddle of squatted knees, curled backs and thick chestnut-, caramel-, onyx-, and mocha-colored necks. “Move aside.” She bumped one of the men who’d just finished slamming his dice against the wall. She bent over slowly and dropped a hundred-dollar bill on top of the growing money pile. She knew all eyes were on her ass so she squatted for a few minutes longer and said, “I’m next.”

As she stood up she looked dead in Naz’s face. She couldn’t believe it. And just when she’d decided she was chasing a dream and that all dreams did were end…there he was…again…and, of course, he was beyond beautiful: skin the color of a flawless chocolate diamond, mustache with sides that melted into a goatee.

He had the sexiness of Tyson, but the looks of the R&B singer Tank. If she had to give his beauty a name, she would affectionately call him a “pretty black niggah,” a “don,” or if all else failed, “one fine motherfucker” would have to do. He was the epitome of dapper: slightly baggy black cargo pants, black cashmere sweater with the hem of the white tee that he wore underneath peeking out nicely, and on his feet were all-black throwback Pumas.

Naz knew he was staring a few minutes too long to play it off, but he couldn’t help it; either this chick was stalking him or there was something he was supposed to do with her. He just didn’t know. If only she wasn’t so fine or naturally gorgeous; or maybe a little more stand-up—a square—perhaps a librarian, a teacher or an usher for the church—or something—something that would convince him he wanted her for some other reason than a bomb-ass pussy. He hated that he remembered her real name, which was part of the reason that every time she ran across his mind he referred to her as Sunshine. It kept everything in perspective—but seeing her standing here now completely fucked him up.

Parallel to them, breaking their stare, the jukebox belted Koko Taylor as she sang, “I got what it takes to make a man forget his name and a bulldog break his chain…” Most of the time when Drae heard this blues classic, she grabbed something and sang, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t hold much of a melody…at least it didn’t…up until this point. So instead of singing, she prayed that her nerves bore with her. She cleared her throat and watched Naz lick his seductive lips.

“You can’t speak?” Drae suppressed her smile. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You tell me.” He juggled the dice in one hand. “Does the cat still have my tongue?”

Drae knew it was only a moment before her pussy began to speak the language of wetness. “And before you flatter yourself, I’m not stalking you,” she said sarcastically, feeling as if she needed to volunteer that information.

“Really?” He raised one of his thick eyebrows. “And I was just wondering that.”

“Whatever.” She flicked her hand. “You shootin’, or what?”

“Stop asking me loaded questions.” Never once taking his eyes off Drae, he sent the dice spinning through the air and hitting against the cement wall like cracking ice cubes. “Maybe, after tonight, you’ll stop running.”

“Running? From who?”

“Me.” He quickly counted the dots on the three red dice.

“I wasn’t running from you.”

“Stop lying.” He grabbed the dice. “Blow on these.”

Drae gave a deep swallow and tucked in her shiny bottom lip as she tried to shake loose her nerves. “How you want me to blow on ’em?” she said low enough so that Naz was the only one who could hear. “You want me to deep throat it, or you just need a little tease?” She gave a seductive smile and winked, all while doing her best to stop her knees from shaking. The best thing about standing in Naz’s face, especially since she never expected to see him here, was that she knew she was fly: black miniskirt, deep V-cut lavender sweater, abundance of cleavage, black Vickie Secrets fishnets and wedged-heel boots.

He held the dice to Drae’s lips. “Surprise me….” Drae gave her best I’m-the-shit performance, dredged up all the air in her body and blew it out as if she’d taken a smooth pull off a cigarette and was releasing the smoke.

“Oh goddamn,” one of the onlookers said, and everyone in the crowd burst into laughter. “This niggah already won.”

Naz shot the dice and came up short. “Looks to be your world, Sunshine.” Naz handed them to her.

“I’ma spank dat ass.” Drae smiled.

“Nah, I’ma spank
dat
ass.” He gave her a sly smile.

As Drae prepared to shoot, the crowd of mostly old men seemed to come alive, now more than before. There were a million whistles, a couple of must-be-jam-cause-jelly-don’t-shake-like-thats—and a few singing the chorus to the Commodores’ “Brick House.”

Naz stood behind Drae and his dick, along with a few others, was rock solid. But no one knew like Naz what a fine ass Drae really had to offer.

She squatted to the floor as if she were getting her eagle on in slow motion. The entire back of her body slid down the front of Naz’s as if he was a stripper’s pole. Once she reached his dick, she rubbed her ass in a circular motion. “Keep it up,” he said as he squatted behind her. As she crouched a few inches from the floor she could feel Naz slip his hand up her miniskirt, pop one of the fishnets shielding her pussy, and slide two of his fingers in.

“Ooooh…” Drae was surprised as she unexpectedly tipped to one knee, almost hitting the floor. Naz grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. “That’s what you get for not having no panties on.”

All Drae could do was close her eyes as the juice from her ill nana soaked his fingers and ran between her thighs. “Lil’ mama, you gon’ roll?” one of the men asked.

Drae tried to get her focus back on the game. She prayed that no one could see what Naz was doing, otherwise she would be embarrassed as shit.

“What happened to your panties?” Naz sucked lightly on her ear.

“I knew you were gon’ be here,” she lied. Although they were in a crowd, Drae wished that Naz would take his hand and palm her pussy instead of teasing her with his wet fingertip.

Drae held the dice in her hand and then placed them over her shoulder. “Hit it right in the center, baby.”

“Unless you wanna be fucked,” he said with a laugh, “you better quit playing with me.” He gave the dice a smooth blow.

She shook the dice in a closed fist. “Am I the one playing,” she asked, looking over her shoulder at his face, “or is it you?” She did her best to keep her balance.

“A’ight now,” he sighed. “You gon’ mess around”—Drae could tell his dick was hard by the sound of his voice—“and I’ma fuck the shit outta you.”

“Well…” she said, basking in the motion of his movement, “how you wanna fuck me, daddy, like this?” She rolled her hips to the right. “Or like this?” She rolled to the left. “Or is this it?” She bounced slightly up and down, not too high for everyone to notice, but high enough for him to get the point. Her wetness flowed like rain and made his dick feel like it was going to explode.

“Cut that shit and roll them fuckin’ dice.” He pumped his fingers faster, sliding them in and out. Drae knew at any minute she was about to cum. Doing her best not to scream, she shot the dice against the wall. “Five! Motherfuckin’ five!” she screamed, panting at the fact that she’d just cum and simultaneously won the dice game. Her inner thighs felt sticky and she could only imagine what Naz’s hands looked like. “I told you I was gon’ spank dat ass!” She jumped up.