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If Your Girl Only Knew, Part II

I always felt some kind of way when dudes swallowed my nut, especially if we weren’t in a committed relationship and being black and gay, you may as well say that fucking is a relationship. Gay men aren’t like lesbians. As soon as them bitches meet and they like each other, they are married with a dog, a BMW station wagon and they are going on trips to Barbados every 6 months. Men? Please, they are more dramatic than women, which is half of the reason why most men settle for sex. They aren’t even interested in getting to know you, they just wanna suck the dick up, until they hiccup

But like I was saying, when a man swallowed my nut, I felt like i had been violated. They weren’t supposed to do that. They had my children and I didn’t.

I went back to sleep, but before I did I just did a quick survey of my apartment just to make sure anything wasn’t missing. Even though I didn’t think he would steal from me, you never know.

I had no concept of time all; I know is that my phone ringing woke me up.

“Damn you still sleep?”
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“Oh. It’s like that?”
“It ain't like shit. I’m sleep. Who is it?” I demanded.
“Sup wit you?”
“Nothin. Thinkin about that dick.”
“You didn’t have to leave.” I said, waking up all the way. His experience still fresh on my mind.
“Damn. I had to be at church this morning. I’ll hit you up later. What you doing tonight?”
 “Just hit me up.” I replied.
“Aiight sexy.”

I hung up the phone smiling. But one thought still hung over my head. Church? Nigga you just got fucked in the ass, you wasn’t thinking about church too hard.

Later that night, his call never came. It didn’t matter. I was busy working. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had past, before I got a text from him.

I didn’t trip. Because I already knew what it was - and i was fine with that.

He would text randomly. The middle of the day even, which was a deal breaker for me, had he wanted to be a friend he wouldn’t have made the moves on me. He would have left the frothiness in his loins at the bar and on the bank of the river after we smoked that blunt. But it wasn’t his entire fault either. I didn’t have to invite him upstairs. I already knew what was up, which is why I did it. But calling me and texting me during non-booty call hours, is a muthafuckin hell to the nah nigga!

Then there was that one day he called me as I was getting ready to board the train.

“Whats good?” I asked.
“That dick.” He replied in his deep baritone.

I instantly became aroused. It was a turn on for him to talk to me like that - he wanted the dick and the best part about it all he wasn’t the type that looked like he liked to be fucked. But that was usually the case, most people assumed that because you’re effeminate, you weren’t capable of being “the man” in sexual encounters. Wrong! Most men that you wouldn’t even detect being gay, hit higher notes than Mariah Carey did in 1993.

 I thought about the way he arched his back when i slid all of the way inside of him. The thoughts replayed throughout my brain how I fucked him against the moonlight, right against the wall. I fucked him like i loved him. I fucked him like I was married to him. I fucked him intensely passionate. I made love to him.

“Like that?” I asked him.
“Come thru.”
“Where you at?”
“110th & Morningside” he replied.
“Bet. I’m on my way then.”

And just like that, I was on my way to his house. It was apparent that our bodies had made commitments whether we wanted to or not. But before I scouted the A, B and C train stop closest to me, he sent me his address and told me to call him once I got to his block.

I didn't think twice about going, besides we already fucked at my apartment, it was his turn. That's what real jump-off’s do.

I exited the train and called him as he requested. As I waited on the other end of the phone anxiously i tried to control the growing problem that was giving my loins more than a tingle.

"You there?"
"Yeah." I responded seductively.
"Aiight 182 is the number. Down the stairs to the basement." he instructed.

As I mobbed down his block my heart raced and it matched the pulsing intensity of my throbbing dick. I was never one to walk fast, but the adrenaline was bring me as close to a power walk as I was ever going to get. To an outsider, it looked as if I was rushing to the nearest toilet. It wasn't before long until I was in the front of his off colored gray brownstone that sat in the middle of the block.

It was a well-kept house. Nice, small fence blocked off the front, quaintly decorated with a patio table that look like it was used regularly.

I opened the gate. By nature I looked around to see if any of his neighbors caught a view of me coming in. I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anyone was watching. Someone was always watching. I didn’t even knock on the door or ring the doorbell before the door opened. He was beyond ready. His dick stood straight out at attention. “Sup?” He said as he licked his lips, tilted his head up while seductively looking me over.

I walked in. I grabbed his, thick, veiny chocolate dick and gave it a gentle tug while pushing myself in his mouth. He backed into the room; pulling me towards him and closing the door, letting me know that he was ready for the take down.

I pushed him against the door. I kissed him deep while pinning him down. I stroked my tongue across his lips, down his to neck. Where I made circles and slowly bit, while releasing my hands in bondage and place him one on his member and the other giving his nipple a slight flicker.

He moaned in ecstasy, “shit.” He said. I kept going – knowing that I read him right and gave him exactly what his body had been missing. He didn’t give me what I was missing, in my mind this was just sex.

Sex. Something I used to replace the void that I had always felt. Sex. Something to validate me and make me feel some sort of temporarily belonging that ultimately never worked. I had always tripped my mind into believing that I would fall in love and have  intense, erotic, deeply passionate sex to show him how much I cared. That shit ain’t happened and the last time it did, he was fucking everyone else too. I guess. But shit, I can’t be the only one that’s having a logical conversation while having some deep sexual contact. Hell, I was having a Savannah moment, “My body needed it.” Shit, 6 months in a city with no sex will drive a nigga crazy. Ya dig?

I followed him up the stairs while I glanced at his home studio on the way up, taking note, why he probably didn’t have a lot of people to his house, because he also worked there. And he was protective of himself anyway.

As he walked, I stared at his plumply firm ass, that I knew I was would be for the taking in a few minutes. We continued up another flight of stairs to the top level of the house where his bedroom was.

It was the typical male bedroom. The way your shit looked in college – everywhere. Except for me, I had OCD then. It’s worse now.

I took my clothes off without hesitation as he laid on his back in the bed, legs spread eagle, exposing his hanging sack and the split of his slightly hairy ass.

I got on the bed, taking his balls in my mouth. I slowly circled my tongue around them while I use my lips to suction them in place. He moaned “Ahhh. Fuck. That shit feel so fuckin’ Good. Damn I wanna tape this shit.” I didn’t stop, except, I ran my tongue, slowly, up the back of his dick. While taking a deep rest on the tip, slowly circling my tongue around the slit of his pee hole.

He took the deepest moan ever and I took him all the way down my throat. Forcing him to fuck my throat while his hands perfectly mounted the top of my head. “Suck that dick nigga. Fuck.” He instructed me.

I stopped.  Knowing that if he enjoyed it any further, he might not be able to handle what was coming towards him next.

I slowly guided my tongue down to the split of his ass and allowed my tongue to gently part him, just enough to give his body a shocking pulse that he felt from his head to his toe. “Damn muthafucka.” He said. He forcefully took his hands and pulled my head towards his. He looked me and started kissing me. He was turned on. He flipped me over and got on top of me while his tongue was in my mouth. His dick hit mine and he grinded on me. I grabbed his ass and smashed him into my body.

Our body contact was intense. He licked and sucked all over my body until he found his way to my dick, in which he went to town on. I felt like I was in a porno and he was one of those white girls that just drooled, slobbered and just went crazy while the dick was in her mouth. He was giving me the ultimate Becky. He didn’t lack technique either. It felt as if he was tongue kissing my dick. Keeping most of it in his mouth for what seemed like hours.

He 69’d me. He turned around with his dick in my mouth, placing his ass right in my face. I knew what he wanted and I gave right in to him, pulling him back, taking my hands an spreading open his ass ready to slide tongue right into his warm hole of clenching pleasure.

As soon as I gave him a whip of my tongue, he arched his back and stopped sucking my dick, sitting straight up on my face.

I tasted him an enjoyed it like it was my favorite food. The sweet scent and taste of him was pleasantly familiar as it was just days before, I was trying him out for the first time. I ran my tongue up and down and in and out of him. It was mutual enjoyment that I never wanted to end.

I gently gripped and squeezed his nipples as he erectly perched on my face allowing my tongue to go as deep as it could inside of him. He was overwhelmed and I am sure his body was being taken to places that he had never been before.

“Fuck me!” He moaned out. “I can’t take it anymore!” He continued. Just the way I remembered him saying it before.

I motioned him off my face and I watched him flip over and lay on his stomach, arching his ass perfectly in the air.

“Where the condom at?” I asked. He pointed at his top nightstand dresser drawer. I crawled over and got what I needed and I geared up the pony for the ride.

I pulled him apart. I gently rubbed the tip of my dick softly against his ass and watched him squirm in ecstasy. I slowly slid inside of him. Not to punish him or make him feel every piece of me as I slid in. I did it slow because I wanted to take my time. I didn’t want to rush. I wanted to revel in every moment of being inside of him.

He opened up right away. Allowing me to take residency in side of him, I let him bounce back on me to get the total feel of my dick again. I wanted him to take control before I took it myself. I put my hands around his waist and I mounted him. I put all of myself inside of him, pounding, giving him relentless thrusts as I place my hands on the wall, becoming one with him, while I stroked his hard, throbbing dick.

It was intense, and I didn’t stop. He collapsed further onto his stomach, leaving his ass in the air, burying his face in the pillow – enjoying the pleasuring pain that shot through is body.

After I worked up a sweat, I couldn’t take it anymore. His checks and my thighs were marinated in the same moisture. I pulled out and rolled over on my back while I continued to stoke myself.

He kneeled over me and gave himself a few pulls before he exploded on my stomach. He placed his face down in my crotch and gave my dick a reason to explode.

“I’m about to nut.” I said out of breath. He came up an as soon as he did, I shot everywhere. The traces landed on my chin.

We laid there for a moment, what he thought was the greatest sex wasn’t even a 1/10th of what I had done before. I wasn’t intimate with him and there was no real connection. The entire time I was thinking about my fling from the summer before, Young Fresh. I hadn’t had sex like that since him, but I wasn’t necessarily looking for it. Because all I had to do was have that connection with someone and it was on. After I came, he made me want to stop having sex. He was a turn off. My logic seemed to be working again.

As I laid there, I was ready to go. He got up from the bed and found a towel and tossed it to me so I could begin the cleanup process. I wiped myself down, getting up from the bed to assemble myself. As I picked up my underwear I couldn’t help but notice a flimsy pair of powder blue material near the closet door. It made me stop in my tracks.

He looked me. I looked at him. Then he saw what I was looking at.

“You a cross dresser?” I asked him firmly.
“What?” He questioned.
“You like to wear panties?” I asked him showing my disdain and confusion.
“What the fuck you talkin’ son?”

I looked at the panties. He looked back at me. I looked at him. He looked at the panties. Again, he looked back at me.

“Those are my wife’s.”
"You muthafucka."2

1 comment:

Kristina said...

I made that a movie in my head. Love the ending.