Читать книгу Who's Loving You - Mary B. Morrison - Страница 12

“I’m out. Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom,” I said.

“Bye, bro. I’ll see you later,” Benito’s sorry ass said, gnawing on a piece of my bacon.

Stopping in the restroom adjacent to the foyer, I took a piss, shook my dick, washed my hands, then left my parents’ house. I got in my car. “Ooh-wee, I wish he wasn’t my damn brother,” I said, checking my messages. Honey had texted again, at nine o’clock. I give. You win.

“Good. No, great. Me too. I hope you mean it this time,” I said. “I hate when Benito’s fucking ass is right.” I was angry at Honey. She had made me look like a fool in front of my parents. Wasn’t she obligated to disclose beforehand situations that could embarrass us?

I pulled into Starbucks to get a grande soy White Chocolate Mocha Expresso, no whip, extra hot. I’d stopped adding the whipped cream after Honey and I broke up. The things she could do with whipped cream made me shiver. Damn. The line was long. I’d wait. Give myself time to cool off before getting to my office. I swear, I wished I could’ve hit Benito’s ass one time, right in his big mouth.

“Ooh, he’s got a nice big one,” I heard the woman in front of me tell the lady she was with.

Frowning, I thought, Is she talking about me within listening range? D.C. women didn’t hold back on anything, particularly on pursuing men.

Her friend turned around, looked at my dick, smiled, then nodded. “He sure does, girl. Good looking out. You don’t miss anything. That’s big enough to share. We could double-dip fuck him at the same time.”

The woman who’d checked me out first handed me her business card. “Call me, on my cell. We’re having a private party tomorrow night. We’d love for you to come with us.”

I didn’t want to embarrass her by saying, “I’m not interested,” so I took the card and said, “Thanks,” putting it in my pocket.

Her opening line reminded me of a cheerleader I’d met in Las Vegas damn near fourteen years ago. I was fourteen years old at that time.

“Ooh, you got a nice big one. Please let me suck this pretty dick,” she’d pleaded. “That is why you invited me over, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts, silly. Come here and shut up,” she’d said, peeling the plastic off of a small square pack of…peanut butter?

Frowning, I’d stood by the edge of my hotel bed, looking down at her. “What’s that for?”

“It’s my favorite,” she’d said.

A devious grin had crossed her face. She’d scooped the peanut butter onto her tongue, smeared it all over my dick, then jokingly asked, “Got milk?” Then she’d opened a small packet of strawberry preserves. Layering the preserves over the peanut butter with her wet tongue, she’d put both of my nuts in her mouth at the same time.

“Ooh, my lord that feels good,” I’d said, trying to control my shaky teenage legs.

Gripping my dick like a microphone, she’d spat on it, started singing like she was on stage, then licked everything off, including my cum. I’d recalled thinking, Girls in D.C. don’t swallow.

“Sir, you’re holding up the line,” the cashier said. “May I please”—her eyes darted down to my dick—“take your order.” She smiled a little too hard.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, ordering my drink. I had to see what they were seeing. Damn! Those freaky-ass women. I had to start wearing underwear. One of them could’ve told me my dick was out. Tucking myself away, I dug into my pocket and pulled out a twenty.

The cashier held her hands up in the air. “Uh, that’s okay. The ladies in front of you paid for whatever you wanted,” she said, grinning. “Here’s your Starbucks card. You have a ninety-five-dollar credit.”

I was flattered but not convinced to call. Waiting for my mocha, I continued thinking. I’d never forget my first blow job. That shit felt ooh-wee! incredible, but I couldn’t say I loved, strongly liked, or even knew the girl who’d done it. In fact, I lost respect for her because she didn’t respect herself by going around and sucking dicks for fun while all the guys on our sophomore field trip in Las Vegas talked bad about her.

“Man, she’ll suck your dick in the bathroom, in the hallway, in the stairway, anywhere you want,” one guy had said. “All you have to do is pretend you like her ass, give her a few compliments, and that trick will drop to her knees and let your nuts bang against her chin until you cum in her mouth.”

To see if they were telling the truth, I joined in the experience. I felt like shit immediately after I’d cum in Tiffany Davis’s mouth. I doubted the other guys even knew her name. From that day forth, I promised myself I’d never disrespect another woman. If I didn’t care anything about her, I wasn’t putting my dick inside any part of her, no matter how attractive she was.

Tiffany was definitely not the type of woman I wanted to call my own or invite to my house to meet my parents. Damn! What made that girl do that shit? At times I wondered who or what had made Tiffany that way. What was she doing now? Probably somewhere prostituting. What had made my Honey fuck strange men for money?

“I guess I’ll never know,” I said aloud.