Dapharoah69
06-08-2006, 01:22 PM
Joints, Beer and the Cheating Lover Part II
By Dapharoah305. Copyright @ 2006.
In the heat of Passion, anything can happen.
Cornelius Ryan, author, said The Longest Day happened to be June 6, 1944, D-Day. I said bullshit. Today was, January 8, 2006. The Longest Day of my life, D-Day. In two ways. Doomsday becasue my wife walked in on me after I nutted in my niggah. And Dick Day for my boy. I became his first. I bet you Cornelius couldn't write this Classic Epic Story.
Dancing around in her surreal life, Beatrice hungrily hit the weed, feeling like she was snatched into the Twilight Zone. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. I mean here I was, sitting in their living room, a living room that was once a teeming display of well-framed family portraits, paintings done up by their siblings, family gatherings, parties, and the whole nine. I had many spade card games in this room. I had many victories in this room. I jacked off in this room to pornos when I house sitted for them. We lived in the ghetto. Even with Brinks security in our homes and bars on the windows it was still safe to have someone you trusted watching your home because Niggahs could get around anything these days and the police, like Flavor Flav! said, were a joke. They took ten years to answer your call, plus I never called the crackers anyway. I was a thug. I handled my own business. I spent much time with my boy in this room. There used to be gorgeous red carpeting, very gorgeous vertical blinds, and soft pinks pouring into golden browns...African statues, tasteful shit. It wasn't over done. And my boy decorated it all. Beatrice always admired his skills with the interior. And now we were in a War Zone. Gone were the pictures, the carpet was snatched up. My boy snatched it up out of anger, when he learned his wife was sleeping with mine. He broke every picture frame, and when he got to the wedding picture he couldn't touch it, like some unknown force beckoned him not to. Brandy's Angel in Disguise played that day. She said, "An angel in Disguise she was...but some how you fell for her...until she broke your heart that day...and left you in the rain...but...still I LOVE YOU!"
"SHUT UP BRANDY!" He took the picture off the wall and attempted to slam it on the floor, a huge picture at that, but he froze. He cracked open. He couldn't. And I hugged him that day. "It'll be all right, pimpi. I know how you feel."
Brandy didn't help matters. "Yea, yea, yea...you fell for her...she broke your heart, yea...aww baby, baby, I waited for you baby...and left you in the rain..."
Brandy was right.
In the huge brown boxes sitting some of everywhere was all his shit packed up by All Over Moving and Storage. And then on top of that my wife walked out on me, blamed me for sleeping with her best friend. Excuse me, I never knew I held a gun to her head and suck another woman's bloody pussy.
But suffice it to say Beatrice smoked most of my weed. We still sat on the couch, naked, except for her. She was still in La La Land, trying to figure this all out. My Niggah threw his wedding ring at his wedding picture, which was the only picture hanging up in the room, ironically. It tore me apart to look at it. It really separated my feelings for my wife. She was my entire world. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And now it all changed.
"So I'm listening," she said with a major chip on her shoulder, looking past me and at her husband. She hated me. She hated my guts. Smoked my weed and hating me. I felt…used. It hurt him to look at her. And it took a lot for him to stop gazing into my eyes. My Niggah got his first piece of dick and I gave him the whole pie. Not a piece. I wasn't a peaceful Niggah, ya feel me.
The thug pranced around his mental zone. "Beatrice, we're not talking. Why should we talk?"
"Because, good or bad, we're married."
“Married. That was before or after you slept with my best friend’s wife?”
"I'm loyal to my boy now. I say that to you through clenched teeth. Call me a German General. Think of my boy as Nibelung loyalty. Think of us, you and I, as the German Alliance. We're at war. And I confess my loyalty through clenched teeth, like they did back in th early 1900s."
“Niggah, please. We'r not talking about World War I, Austria-Hungary or Generals. This is real life, right now. And you didn’t cheat on me? Have ya’ll always been screwing each other?”
“Nope. Never. Have you and my boy's wife always been licking pussy like its the new line of Laffy Taffy's?"
"Fuck you, niggah!"
"Nah, my Daddy'll do that when you leave, cunt bitch!"
"So when did this all start, husband?" she asked sarcastically, hurt from him calling her a cunt bitch. But she didn't show it on her face, but her eyes waved it like red flags.
"...Tonight, we needed each other. I let him fuck me because I wanted an understanding. Why would my wife who I gave everything tip toe and cheat in the next room with my boy’s wife! My boy’s woman! Goddamn Beatrice! Don’t TURN THIS SHIT ON ME!”
He glared at her, putting on his Ecko jacket and I didn't want all that ass covered so I reached up, high and half drunk, and snatched it off, throwing it across the room. Beatrice's mouth fell open and so did mine, mocking her.
"I’m sorry," I told her, THUG all across my face. "This ass belongs to Big Pimpin’ now; your husband is my bitch now. And that's my ass, I don't want it covered. I don't give a fuck if it’s your house or not."
With sympathy on his face, my Niggah looked at me, sparkles in his eyes. He smiled. "Then baby boy I'll leave it uncovered." I slapped his ass, watching those cheeks jiggle and Beatrice jumped up to her feet and pointed at me.
"You ungrateful asshole! This is my husband! I love him."
"No you don't," my boy protested darkly. "You Hoes always speak of love. You want a Niggah with a car. Not just a car, but a Lexus, a BMW, a Rolls Fucking Royce, not a brother who may be a hard working Niggah and happens to drive a beat-up Honda. You want a fairy tale Niggah: open my door! Cook my food! Help me clean up around the house! Your paycheck is peanuts! I want walnuts! And now, after you cheated on me, with my boy's wife, and we reciprocated the gesture, now I'm the bad guy?"
She was in tears. And it hurt me to see her cry; I mean I did love the woman. She was my boy's heart, his world, and we were best friends for a very long time, I loved anyone associated with him. "Then it's settled." She felt defeated. “I guess I’ll call my lawyer. No sense in going to a marriage counselor. Not with this Jerry Springer shit.”
I just looked at him. I saw the hurt, the deception, the pleasure of the get back all on his face. He sat next to me, gave me some tongue and rubbed my dick in her face. He smiled, and I died. I was in love with this Niggah, at what point I fell was beyond me. I didn't understand it. It’s like the more he smiled the more the love I had for my cheating spouse went out the window. And with that in mind I still had to confront her, talk to her. Work on it. See how she felt. Hear what she had to say. Yell. Scream. Blame. Point fingers. Justify. Edit. Censor. Uncensor. Maybe I didn't. Want. To. See. Her. Maybe. I. Wanted. Her. To. Die. In. Her. Sleep!
Trifling bitch!
"Leave Beatrice," I told her, kissing my bitch, rubbing that good ass, my dick standing up, and it was a killer. She died inside. "You motherfuckers! How could you--Baby, you gonna leave me--"
My boy looked at her maliciously. "You ain't left yet? I don’t want you. It’s over. I am moving on. And if you stay here I’ma start doing some shit that’s gonna hurt you deeper. I’m trying to spare you."
She exploded. "THIS MY HOUSE!"
"Mine, too! I live here, too, you think I'm MOVING OUT?"
"Die in hell bitch Niggah!"
"OK, Lesbian City, I most certainly will, as soon...as...I--" He started sucking my dick in front of her and my mouth fell open in shock, but it felt so good and I opened my legs so he can watch them nuts play double dutch with the way they bounced up and down. Devastated, she fell on the chair, holding her head. "She wants a show," my boy said, tonguing the head of my passion and trying to deep throat me. I had too much dick. No one could deep throat me. I fucked that mouth as slow as I could, holding his head, cute little Niggah. He slurped my shit, pulled and moaned like a Niggah and I wanted him moaning like a bitch.
"Moan like a bitch! I want to hear dat shit. Whimper for this dick. Beg for it. To. Be. In. That. Ass, bitch!"
"Daddy I want that dick...baby boy goddamn yo you making a Niggah beg for that dick."
"You want me to fuck that asshole my Niggah?" I pushed his bitch as on the low-table and he looked at me with so much urgency and anticipation on his handsome face. His skin was soft, beautiful skin tone under the chandelier lights. So sensual, provocative. He smelled of Cool Water cologne. Even around the parameters of his asshole he smelled of some body fragrance. He smelled so loving. His lips slightly parted he opened his legs and started rubbing around his asshole, slow, his eyes narrowed; his lips were in the kiss formation. He had sexy lips. Turned me on and made my heart skip a beat. And he was all mine. Finally. I found my soul mate. He was next to me for years and I had no idea. He was at my wedding, standing with me when we married two lesbians. And I never knew he was my rib, my chosen one, the one I wanted and needed and desired to spend the rest of my life with. Flashes of my wedding exploded in my mind. I remembered my tux. It matched my boy’s. We had on white top hats, angled over the left eye, like Gangsters. Well, like a Pimp. And once the real thugs got down on the dance floor, we cut a rug, dancing together, so happy we were married. I think life was trying to show us then, because when he hugged me in front of cheering family members and our wives, wearing $7,000 wedding dresses, the type with the long trains, he accidentally touched my dick and he apologized, embarrassed, but he didn’t look away from my heavenly eyes.
“No sweat,” I had said, but my dick was hard as a rock and I couldn’t stop looking at his ass when he walked off, but I played it off. At that moment I knew I was in love with someone else.
A man.
My boy.
I’d DIE FOR HIM!
Now I had him. And I wasn’t gonna let him go. He twirled that hot hole on his finger. Damn he was so sexy.
"Finger fuck yourself for Daddy. I'ma sit here on this couch and jack my shit and watch you fuck yourself."
He whined like a Ho. I loved it. "But Daddy fuck me baby boy." He stuck his index finger in all that flesh, and he moaned in pleasure. "I never knew my hole would make me feel so hot, so bitchy dawg!"
"Two fingers, bitch!"
He started fucking himself harder, faster. His legs started shaking; I could tell the pleasure was too much for his body to handle. I stood over him, slapping him in the face with my dick. "Fuck that pussy, bitch!"
Tears ran down his face, I forgot Beatrice was in the room. She was sobbing and that crying I fed off, she hurt me, she fucked my wife, probably watched her give her a show.
"WHY ARE YALL DOING THIS?"
Tears ran from my eyes. I didn't want to hurt her, I always had her back. When she almost died from Cancer I was there, with my wife and my boy, three years ago. I sat with her through Chemo Therapy. She lost all her hair. Lost weight. I was there, waiting on her hand a foot. SO was my wife. So was my boy. I was there when she had a miscarriage. I kept her secret from my boy.
"Please don't tell him I was pregnant. I wanted to surprise him. I put this baby before God and God took my baby away." I told my boy I didn’t know what was wrong with her. I was by her side when her Mama died. Her mother was raped by some prisoner who escaped prison and she died from the shock of the entire event. She died while a convict was beating up the pussy. I was by her side. With my boy. I never made moves on her, even though she was fine, of Halle Berry proportions.
And she repays me by fucking my wife.
So with that in mind I slapped my bitch with my dick, repeatedly. "Suck my dick and fuck that ass, bitch! SUCK IT BITCH!" He started blowing me off, love in his eyes; he beat that asshole with three fingers now, all that ass jiggling. “You don’t want this dick. You don’t want Daddy to nut. You playing Rainbow Bright with my dick, bitch! You are making me mad. I’ma beat your ass you don’t stop toying with my dick. Create a symphony with my Organ, bitch. Blow over the hole of my flute and pull that trombone. Let them fingers dance on the shaft like a Clarinet…blow that bitch like a saxophone! There ya go!” I leaned back, my dick falling from his pleasurable mouth and I snatched him up, bending him over the arm of the chair. "Didn't I say suck my dick, bitch?" I was slapping that booty. Those cheeks bounced. Damn. Hypnotized me. Fucking this Niggah was going to be the time of my life. And not that Patrick Swayze Dirty Dancing feeling, either.
"Yea, my Niggah."
"IT'S BIG DADDY BITCH! I'MA THUG NIGGAH I GET WHAT I WANT! I'MA FUCK YOU LIKE I FUCKED MR SAMUELS!"
"Fuck me, Daddy."
"You don’t want this dick, beg for it!" I started eating that ass, tonguing that soft place, tongue fucking him. He moaned so sensually. He started crying. I smelled that ass, getting high off the scent. So erotic. I tasted my nut out his ass from our session when we got caught. I swallowed my own nut, I sucked out some more, snatched him by the head, turned him into my face, slid my dick up in that ass, started fucking him and spit my nut in his mouth, a long line of nut and he swallowed every drop. “And you’re a dirty bitch, I love dat shit!” I pulled out the pussy and watched his body slump.
Time to taunt the bitch.
"I don't wanna live without you."
"Spread this pussy, bitch! I don't care what state this asshole in, I'ma clean this shit out with my tongue. OPEN DAT PUSY BITCH!" I slapped both ass cheeks so hard with my palms he jumped. I snatched him back down.
"Baby, you turning me out."
"Who pusy this belongs to?"
"Yours, Daddy!"
I started finger fucking him, one hand on the ass, while he spread his cheeks apart. "Yea, bitch...Yeeeeeeeea, bitch!"
"Aww, aww, aw, aw, aw daddy, aw AW AW AW SHIT AW SHIT FUCK THAT ASSHOLE NIGGH AW AW YOU FUCK BETTER THAN MY WIFE AW SHIT BITCH YOU SEE HOW YOU SHOULDA FUCKED YOUR HUSBAND GODAMN NIGGAH AWWWW SHIT THAT DICK AW SHIT YOU PUTTING THAT DICK IN MY ASS! AW SHIT GIVE IT ALL TO ME! AW DAMN NIGGAH!"
I had him doggy-style on the bare floor. I stared at all that ass while it jiggled on my dick. I fucked the dog shit out the bitch! I wasn't supposed to play around with the asshole, I was supposed to beat it up, boy or not. Best friend or not, ass was ass, and my heart wasn't in my dick or in his ass and I loved him, that’s why I turned the pussy out, I was molding this hole to my standards! We were drenched with sweat two thugs. TWO THUGS. Two ex gang bangers. In the streets and with the hoes we ran trains on. I gripped that ass and stuck all my dick in his hole and pressed my groin against flesh and paused and he fell on his face, with the ass up. "No bitch get the fuck up, you tired? I'ma fuck this pussy times ten if you are, you tired?"
He tried to play it off, take back his word. He tried to look so innocent, and it came off looking so hot. "I'm tired, daddy, I can't take no more." He started crying, really let go. "I can't take no more, I can't..."
I laid on top on him and fucked him as fast and hard as I could, I wanted this pussy moist, loose. He wrapped his arms around mine, lying on his stomach, looking into my face with wide eyes, throwing that booty hole back. "Damn bitch this some good pussy bitch I'll kill you if you give my shit away you my wifey now I want you Niggah you do what the fuck I say..."
"I love. You. Baby...." Beatrice couldn’t take it anymore. She ran from the room and opened her bedroom door, slamming it closed. Wham! Good for you, bitch. That was the thug talking. But the real me, I wanted to hug her and tell her I was sorry, that I wished I Could take it all back. After all a good friendship meant more than asshole.
His hole locked up and his body with it. "OH GOD IM BOUT TO NUT OH GOD YOU HITTING MY SPOT IM BOUT TO--"
"I'm bout to nut Niggah!" I screamed out and I started letting go all my Trojan knights deep in this pussy while his asshole throbbed and opened and closed on my shaft, goddamn what a feeling, I started screaming delightfully. "DAMN THIS FELS BETTER THAN MY WIFE'S PUSSY!"
When I rolled over on my back Beatrice, with a loaded gun, shot me in the chest, and then shot me in the right knee cap. The explosion of the gun deafened me and made my boy jump ten feet in the air.
My boy started screaming and all I could remember was the room turning black. The last image I had before I closed my eyes was a exhausted Niggah telling me, "Please, baby, don't leave me...YOU BITCH I'MA KILL YOU BITCH!"
And I was at peace
By Dapharoah305. Copyright @ 2006.
In the heat of Passion, anything can happen.
Cornelius Ryan, author, said The Longest Day happened to be June 6, 1944, D-Day. I said bullshit. Today was, January 8, 2006. The Longest Day of my life, D-Day. In two ways. Doomsday becasue my wife walked in on me after I nutted in my niggah. And Dick Day for my boy. I became his first. I bet you Cornelius couldn't write this Classic Epic Story.
Dancing around in her surreal life, Beatrice hungrily hit the weed, feeling like she was snatched into the Twilight Zone. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. I mean here I was, sitting in their living room, a living room that was once a teeming display of well-framed family portraits, paintings done up by their siblings, family gatherings, parties, and the whole nine. I had many spade card games in this room. I had many victories in this room. I jacked off in this room to pornos when I house sitted for them. We lived in the ghetto. Even with Brinks security in our homes and bars on the windows it was still safe to have someone you trusted watching your home because Niggahs could get around anything these days and the police, like Flavor Flav! said, were a joke. They took ten years to answer your call, plus I never called the crackers anyway. I was a thug. I handled my own business. I spent much time with my boy in this room. There used to be gorgeous red carpeting, very gorgeous vertical blinds, and soft pinks pouring into golden browns...African statues, tasteful shit. It wasn't over done. And my boy decorated it all. Beatrice always admired his skills with the interior. And now we were in a War Zone. Gone were the pictures, the carpet was snatched up. My boy snatched it up out of anger, when he learned his wife was sleeping with mine. He broke every picture frame, and when he got to the wedding picture he couldn't touch it, like some unknown force beckoned him not to. Brandy's Angel in Disguise played that day. She said, "An angel in Disguise she was...but some how you fell for her...until she broke your heart that day...and left you in the rain...but...still I LOVE YOU!"
"SHUT UP BRANDY!" He took the picture off the wall and attempted to slam it on the floor, a huge picture at that, but he froze. He cracked open. He couldn't. And I hugged him that day. "It'll be all right, pimpi. I know how you feel."
Brandy didn't help matters. "Yea, yea, yea...you fell for her...she broke your heart, yea...aww baby, baby, I waited for you baby...and left you in the rain..."
Brandy was right.
In the huge brown boxes sitting some of everywhere was all his shit packed up by All Over Moving and Storage. And then on top of that my wife walked out on me, blamed me for sleeping with her best friend. Excuse me, I never knew I held a gun to her head and suck another woman's bloody pussy.
But suffice it to say Beatrice smoked most of my weed. We still sat on the couch, naked, except for her. She was still in La La Land, trying to figure this all out. My Niggah threw his wedding ring at his wedding picture, which was the only picture hanging up in the room, ironically. It tore me apart to look at it. It really separated my feelings for my wife. She was my entire world. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And now it all changed.
"So I'm listening," she said with a major chip on her shoulder, looking past me and at her husband. She hated me. She hated my guts. Smoked my weed and hating me. I felt…used. It hurt him to look at her. And it took a lot for him to stop gazing into my eyes. My Niggah got his first piece of dick and I gave him the whole pie. Not a piece. I wasn't a peaceful Niggah, ya feel me.
The thug pranced around his mental zone. "Beatrice, we're not talking. Why should we talk?"
"Because, good or bad, we're married."
“Married. That was before or after you slept with my best friend’s wife?”
"I'm loyal to my boy now. I say that to you through clenched teeth. Call me a German General. Think of my boy as Nibelung loyalty. Think of us, you and I, as the German Alliance. We're at war. And I confess my loyalty through clenched teeth, like they did back in th early 1900s."
“Niggah, please. We'r not talking about World War I, Austria-Hungary or Generals. This is real life, right now. And you didn’t cheat on me? Have ya’ll always been screwing each other?”
“Nope. Never. Have you and my boy's wife always been licking pussy like its the new line of Laffy Taffy's?"
"Fuck you, niggah!"
"Nah, my Daddy'll do that when you leave, cunt bitch!"
"So when did this all start, husband?" she asked sarcastically, hurt from him calling her a cunt bitch. But she didn't show it on her face, but her eyes waved it like red flags.
"...Tonight, we needed each other. I let him fuck me because I wanted an understanding. Why would my wife who I gave everything tip toe and cheat in the next room with my boy’s wife! My boy’s woman! Goddamn Beatrice! Don’t TURN THIS SHIT ON ME!”
He glared at her, putting on his Ecko jacket and I didn't want all that ass covered so I reached up, high and half drunk, and snatched it off, throwing it across the room. Beatrice's mouth fell open and so did mine, mocking her.
"I’m sorry," I told her, THUG all across my face. "This ass belongs to Big Pimpin’ now; your husband is my bitch now. And that's my ass, I don't want it covered. I don't give a fuck if it’s your house or not."
With sympathy on his face, my Niggah looked at me, sparkles in his eyes. He smiled. "Then baby boy I'll leave it uncovered." I slapped his ass, watching those cheeks jiggle and Beatrice jumped up to her feet and pointed at me.
"You ungrateful asshole! This is my husband! I love him."
"No you don't," my boy protested darkly. "You Hoes always speak of love. You want a Niggah with a car. Not just a car, but a Lexus, a BMW, a Rolls Fucking Royce, not a brother who may be a hard working Niggah and happens to drive a beat-up Honda. You want a fairy tale Niggah: open my door! Cook my food! Help me clean up around the house! Your paycheck is peanuts! I want walnuts! And now, after you cheated on me, with my boy's wife, and we reciprocated the gesture, now I'm the bad guy?"
She was in tears. And it hurt me to see her cry; I mean I did love the woman. She was my boy's heart, his world, and we were best friends for a very long time, I loved anyone associated with him. "Then it's settled." She felt defeated. “I guess I’ll call my lawyer. No sense in going to a marriage counselor. Not with this Jerry Springer shit.”
I just looked at him. I saw the hurt, the deception, the pleasure of the get back all on his face. He sat next to me, gave me some tongue and rubbed my dick in her face. He smiled, and I died. I was in love with this Niggah, at what point I fell was beyond me. I didn't understand it. It’s like the more he smiled the more the love I had for my cheating spouse went out the window. And with that in mind I still had to confront her, talk to her. Work on it. See how she felt. Hear what she had to say. Yell. Scream. Blame. Point fingers. Justify. Edit. Censor. Uncensor. Maybe I didn't. Want. To. See. Her. Maybe. I. Wanted. Her. To. Die. In. Her. Sleep!
Trifling bitch!
"Leave Beatrice," I told her, kissing my bitch, rubbing that good ass, my dick standing up, and it was a killer. She died inside. "You motherfuckers! How could you--Baby, you gonna leave me--"
My boy looked at her maliciously. "You ain't left yet? I don’t want you. It’s over. I am moving on. And if you stay here I’ma start doing some shit that’s gonna hurt you deeper. I’m trying to spare you."
She exploded. "THIS MY HOUSE!"
"Mine, too! I live here, too, you think I'm MOVING OUT?"
"Die in hell bitch Niggah!"
"OK, Lesbian City, I most certainly will, as soon...as...I--" He started sucking my dick in front of her and my mouth fell open in shock, but it felt so good and I opened my legs so he can watch them nuts play double dutch with the way they bounced up and down. Devastated, she fell on the chair, holding her head. "She wants a show," my boy said, tonguing the head of my passion and trying to deep throat me. I had too much dick. No one could deep throat me. I fucked that mouth as slow as I could, holding his head, cute little Niggah. He slurped my shit, pulled and moaned like a Niggah and I wanted him moaning like a bitch.
"Moan like a bitch! I want to hear dat shit. Whimper for this dick. Beg for it. To. Be. In. That. Ass, bitch!"
"Daddy I want that dick...baby boy goddamn yo you making a Niggah beg for that dick."
"You want me to fuck that asshole my Niggah?" I pushed his bitch as on the low-table and he looked at me with so much urgency and anticipation on his handsome face. His skin was soft, beautiful skin tone under the chandelier lights. So sensual, provocative. He smelled of Cool Water cologne. Even around the parameters of his asshole he smelled of some body fragrance. He smelled so loving. His lips slightly parted he opened his legs and started rubbing around his asshole, slow, his eyes narrowed; his lips were in the kiss formation. He had sexy lips. Turned me on and made my heart skip a beat. And he was all mine. Finally. I found my soul mate. He was next to me for years and I had no idea. He was at my wedding, standing with me when we married two lesbians. And I never knew he was my rib, my chosen one, the one I wanted and needed and desired to spend the rest of my life with. Flashes of my wedding exploded in my mind. I remembered my tux. It matched my boy’s. We had on white top hats, angled over the left eye, like Gangsters. Well, like a Pimp. And once the real thugs got down on the dance floor, we cut a rug, dancing together, so happy we were married. I think life was trying to show us then, because when he hugged me in front of cheering family members and our wives, wearing $7,000 wedding dresses, the type with the long trains, he accidentally touched my dick and he apologized, embarrassed, but he didn’t look away from my heavenly eyes.
“No sweat,” I had said, but my dick was hard as a rock and I couldn’t stop looking at his ass when he walked off, but I played it off. At that moment I knew I was in love with someone else.
A man.
My boy.
I’d DIE FOR HIM!
Now I had him. And I wasn’t gonna let him go. He twirled that hot hole on his finger. Damn he was so sexy.
"Finger fuck yourself for Daddy. I'ma sit here on this couch and jack my shit and watch you fuck yourself."
He whined like a Ho. I loved it. "But Daddy fuck me baby boy." He stuck his index finger in all that flesh, and he moaned in pleasure. "I never knew my hole would make me feel so hot, so bitchy dawg!"
"Two fingers, bitch!"
He started fucking himself harder, faster. His legs started shaking; I could tell the pleasure was too much for his body to handle. I stood over him, slapping him in the face with my dick. "Fuck that pussy, bitch!"
Tears ran down his face, I forgot Beatrice was in the room. She was sobbing and that crying I fed off, she hurt me, she fucked my wife, probably watched her give her a show.
"WHY ARE YALL DOING THIS?"
Tears ran from my eyes. I didn't want to hurt her, I always had her back. When she almost died from Cancer I was there, with my wife and my boy, three years ago. I sat with her through Chemo Therapy. She lost all her hair. Lost weight. I was there, waiting on her hand a foot. SO was my wife. So was my boy. I was there when she had a miscarriage. I kept her secret from my boy.
"Please don't tell him I was pregnant. I wanted to surprise him. I put this baby before God and God took my baby away." I told my boy I didn’t know what was wrong with her. I was by her side when her Mama died. Her mother was raped by some prisoner who escaped prison and she died from the shock of the entire event. She died while a convict was beating up the pussy. I was by her side. With my boy. I never made moves on her, even though she was fine, of Halle Berry proportions.
And she repays me by fucking my wife.
So with that in mind I slapped my bitch with my dick, repeatedly. "Suck my dick and fuck that ass, bitch! SUCK IT BITCH!" He started blowing me off, love in his eyes; he beat that asshole with three fingers now, all that ass jiggling. “You don’t want this dick. You don’t want Daddy to nut. You playing Rainbow Bright with my dick, bitch! You are making me mad. I’ma beat your ass you don’t stop toying with my dick. Create a symphony with my Organ, bitch. Blow over the hole of my flute and pull that trombone. Let them fingers dance on the shaft like a Clarinet…blow that bitch like a saxophone! There ya go!” I leaned back, my dick falling from his pleasurable mouth and I snatched him up, bending him over the arm of the chair. "Didn't I say suck my dick, bitch?" I was slapping that booty. Those cheeks bounced. Damn. Hypnotized me. Fucking this Niggah was going to be the time of my life. And not that Patrick Swayze Dirty Dancing feeling, either.
"Yea, my Niggah."
"IT'S BIG DADDY BITCH! I'MA THUG NIGGAH I GET WHAT I WANT! I'MA FUCK YOU LIKE I FUCKED MR SAMUELS!"
"Fuck me, Daddy."
"You don’t want this dick, beg for it!" I started eating that ass, tonguing that soft place, tongue fucking him. He moaned so sensually. He started crying. I smelled that ass, getting high off the scent. So erotic. I tasted my nut out his ass from our session when we got caught. I swallowed my own nut, I sucked out some more, snatched him by the head, turned him into my face, slid my dick up in that ass, started fucking him and spit my nut in his mouth, a long line of nut and he swallowed every drop. “And you’re a dirty bitch, I love dat shit!” I pulled out the pussy and watched his body slump.
Time to taunt the bitch.
"I don't wanna live without you."
"Spread this pussy, bitch! I don't care what state this asshole in, I'ma clean this shit out with my tongue. OPEN DAT PUSY BITCH!" I slapped both ass cheeks so hard with my palms he jumped. I snatched him back down.
"Baby, you turning me out."
"Who pusy this belongs to?"
"Yours, Daddy!"
I started finger fucking him, one hand on the ass, while he spread his cheeks apart. "Yea, bitch...Yeeeeeeeea, bitch!"
"Aww, aww, aw, aw, aw daddy, aw AW AW AW SHIT AW SHIT FUCK THAT ASSHOLE NIGGH AW AW YOU FUCK BETTER THAN MY WIFE AW SHIT BITCH YOU SEE HOW YOU SHOULDA FUCKED YOUR HUSBAND GODAMN NIGGAH AWWWW SHIT THAT DICK AW SHIT YOU PUTTING THAT DICK IN MY ASS! AW SHIT GIVE IT ALL TO ME! AW DAMN NIGGAH!"
I had him doggy-style on the bare floor. I stared at all that ass while it jiggled on my dick. I fucked the dog shit out the bitch! I wasn't supposed to play around with the asshole, I was supposed to beat it up, boy or not. Best friend or not, ass was ass, and my heart wasn't in my dick or in his ass and I loved him, that’s why I turned the pussy out, I was molding this hole to my standards! We were drenched with sweat two thugs. TWO THUGS. Two ex gang bangers. In the streets and with the hoes we ran trains on. I gripped that ass and stuck all my dick in his hole and pressed my groin against flesh and paused and he fell on his face, with the ass up. "No bitch get the fuck up, you tired? I'ma fuck this pussy times ten if you are, you tired?"
He tried to play it off, take back his word. He tried to look so innocent, and it came off looking so hot. "I'm tired, daddy, I can't take no more." He started crying, really let go. "I can't take no more, I can't..."
I laid on top on him and fucked him as fast and hard as I could, I wanted this pussy moist, loose. He wrapped his arms around mine, lying on his stomach, looking into my face with wide eyes, throwing that booty hole back. "Damn bitch this some good pussy bitch I'll kill you if you give my shit away you my wifey now I want you Niggah you do what the fuck I say..."
"I love. You. Baby...." Beatrice couldn’t take it anymore. She ran from the room and opened her bedroom door, slamming it closed. Wham! Good for you, bitch. That was the thug talking. But the real me, I wanted to hug her and tell her I was sorry, that I wished I Could take it all back. After all a good friendship meant more than asshole.
His hole locked up and his body with it. "OH GOD IM BOUT TO NUT OH GOD YOU HITTING MY SPOT IM BOUT TO--"
"I'm bout to nut Niggah!" I screamed out and I started letting go all my Trojan knights deep in this pussy while his asshole throbbed and opened and closed on my shaft, goddamn what a feeling, I started screaming delightfully. "DAMN THIS FELS BETTER THAN MY WIFE'S PUSSY!"
When I rolled over on my back Beatrice, with a loaded gun, shot me in the chest, and then shot me in the right knee cap. The explosion of the gun deafened me and made my boy jump ten feet in the air.
My boy started screaming and all I could remember was the room turning black. The last image I had before I closed my eyes was a exhausted Niggah telling me, "Please, baby, don't leave me...YOU BITCH I'MA KILL YOU BITCH!"
And I was at peace