Richard was calling but Robert was waiting.
This was the first time she ever dated two guys with names that were all too easy for her to get mixed up in bed. Last week she caught herself just before she was about to scream “Robert!” in Richard’s ear – so it came out awkwardly like “Ro-ichard!”
She knew it sounded odd to him, so she followed it with a loud moan and pretended it was so good she could barely speak English. As he sunk into her most sacred place over and over again, she went from moaning dirty phrases to speaking gibberish, from pretending to orgasm to actually screaming out loud because he hit her spot – again and again. Then again.
Maybe he noticed. Maybe he didn’t. Jade didn’t give even half a fuck because she knew Richard got around town – flaunting and flirting with any fine chick that stared into his eyes a second too long. That’s what happened to her. She saw him in a bar – casually dressed in dark jeans, a black tee, and Timberland boots. He wasn’t the sharpest dresser in the world but he was fine as hell so she gave his dick a ring every now and then.
Jade gathered her belongings in her purse, put on her black stiletto heels to match Robert’s favorite little black dress and dashed out the door. His thick milky brown biceps and Rick Ross beard were waiting in a black Bentley two stories below in the parking lot of her apartment building. He wasn’t the absolute best fuck she ever had – because Richard held that title – but he did have money and class, provided a free meal every time she saw him, and paid a few bills whenever she gave him a sob story. He checked on his pussy at least every other week to see if she needed anything or happened to be in serious, debilitating need of a dick-down. Though she suspected he might be married, Jade appreciated his position in her life for the little things. She enjoyed being pampered and not having to pay for anything. If he was married, then so be it. That wasn’t her business. I’m gon get mine while the gettin is damn good, Jade often said to herself.
She met him in his impeccably clean ride that reeked of aged banana peels and “Black Magic” car freshener. Robert greeted her with a wet kiss on the lips and sped away into the moonlight where he would take her to an expensive hotel somewhere in the city and fuck her freely in every position imaginable, licking every crease and crevice until dawn.
As for Richard, they only spoke after dark. He only texted her when he wanted some pussy, and she only called him when she was hungry for some dick. They had an unspoken understanding that nothing would ever become of their infrequent late-night rendezvous sessions but Jade, at one point in time, secretly hoped for something more. He was a gentleman in a façade. He opened doors, addressed her tenderly, conversed in metaphors like a poet about God being a woman and the Black man rising from the dust of the white man’s stolen land, yet he treated every woman who crossed his path like a lost sex toy ready to be slapped with his phallic then politely sent home with a tinge of disappointment and a tingly pussy.
He picked Jade up and set her down whenever and wherever it suited him. Though she didn’t mind because his dick, when aroused, was about 8-9 inches long and juicy – what Jade considered to be the perfect size. Jade didn’t keep measuring tape handy but she know dat thang was a biggun. It was about the size of a plastic water bottle or a thick ass polish sausage in a bun. That didn’t stop the infamous Jade from fitting his entire dick in her mouth every time they crossed paths.
He marveled at how she could slob it down and deep-throat the length of it on command – even positioning her lips to catch it and slide it back down her throat when it was half-hard and threatening to leave her grasp. She could stroke and lick at the same time or use no hands at all. She could wrap the tip of her tongue on and around the tip or engulf all he had to give at once. Richard shouted her name every single time because every single time she made him cum, and he could feel his very soul sweep down to his toes then throw itself back into the crux of his heart. He dreaded the thought of potentially falling in love because with her creamy pussy and mystical magic tricks, she fucked like chocolate fairy, a seraphim dipped in honey, there to grant all his sacred, sexual wishes – he couldn’t seem to let her go, even it if he killed him.
It all started for Jade junior year in high school under the bleachers or in the locker room during gym class when Ms. Wallace would roam around searching for her, threatening to call her mother if she didn’t participate. Luckily for Jade, she never got caught – but she always got fucked, and that pleased her. It wasn’t much, but at the time it was all the light she had. To be heavily sexed – and therefore thrust into ecstasy and rebellion against imprisoning social and behavioral standards – Jade felt free. She secretly bought or stole condoms, checked herself into Planned Parenthood for birth control, thus saving herself from teen pregnancy or the shameful curse of being burned from a fancy fling in the bathroom stall in-between classes.
Now, as the wind ripped through her locs, Robert – whipping his whip kinda like he whipped his dick – was driving 85mph on the freeway to the next city over. She had a moment of epiphany, and suddenly it became obvious that he was hiding something or someone, especially because he silenced his phone every time it rang. Whenever he decided to answer, it was in half whispers and sly movements to hide his lips. He kept it brief and was careful not to mention what he was doing or who he was with.
She briefly side-eyed him in the driver’s seat – as if to measure his soul in a reckoning glance, listening for answers from the wind whistling in her ear. Time will surely tell, she thought. Jade shrugged her shoulders then decidedly turned her body towards him and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “less do sumthin crazy ta night.”
(To Be Continued)