Jones
Jenna’s little ass was nasty. While I didn’t have any feelings about her one way or the other, I definitely liked the fact that she was a freak.
The way she spit the cum back on my dick and started licking and sucking again immediately bricked me right back up.
Her damn jaws had to have been part of a vacuum cleaner in another lifetime.
The grip she had on me was otherworldly.
“Shit,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth.
I pumped her face with no regard for her ability to breathe.
I only cared about my nut. As I felt it building, I glanced down at her.
She had me about to blow my second nut in record-breaking time.
Shit, if she wasn’t such a bop, I would’ve kept her for her dick-sucking skills alone, but I was a bop myself.
There was no way two bops would ever do anything productive together. Fucking would get in the way. So, nah.
I kept pumping Jenna’s face, but I slowly opened my eyes to see Kylena standing there behind the barn, in the thicket of trees where Jenna and I had ducked off to .
. . engage. How the fuck did Kylena find us out here?
It was like once you gave a bitch the dick, she automatically got an internal GPS for your whereabouts. I didn’t need that shit.
“Don’t stop,” I told Jenna, not knowing that she heard me until the force of her suction increased. I smiled to myself. She was definitely gonna be my go-to for head.
“You gonna keep fucking that bitch in the mouth while I’m standing here? Like it wasn’t my mouth you was fucking on Friday?”
Sometimes, I worried about the future of women.
Did they even pay attention to shit that came out of their own mouths?
They called men disrespectful, when they didn’t have respect for themselves.
You want me to give you something you don’t give yourself?
Make it make sense. Watching Kylena watch me fuck Jenna’s mouth made my dick even harder. “Say, come here,” I said to Kylena.
“Fuck you!” She crossed her arms across her chest, her head shaking back and forth.
“Get your ass over here!”
She stomped her way closer to Jenna and me. “What?”
“Take your arms down.”
She took her arms down. I pulled her closer.
We sandwiched Jenna between us. I reached my hands under Kylena’s t-shirt and found her titties.
She gasped as I palmed them. I lifted her bra and rolled her nipples between my fingers.
“Jenna, swallow,” I directed as my nut continued to build.
“Open your mouth,” I told Kylena. She did, and I spit in her mouth mere seconds before my load of semen shot down Jenna’s throat.
The feeling of having both of them swallowing my bodily fluids was heady as hell.
“I want some nut.” Kylena basically pouted once her mouth was free of my spit. I bent and lifted Jenna off the ground by her forearms. We were on a dirt road. I knew her knees had to be crying for mercy.
“Give her a kiss, and let her get some of that nut,” I told Jenna. She turned to Kylena, and the two women kissed. I smirked and shook my head as I fixed my jeans then adjusted my belt. They were still kissing. “Get in the truck,” I told them. “Let’s go have some fun.”
The next day, my phone rang just as I pulled onto the client’s property.
It was Bright. I already knew what it was.
He was calling to bitch at me. I didn’t want to answer.
Yeah. I knew it was my first day on the job, and the client already didn’t trust me to take her job seriously.
I knew the workday started at 8:00 a.m. I knew it was currently a quarter to ten. I was late.
My morning had been a shit show of me trying to disentangle myself from two women who clearly caught loads of nut for a living.
Those chicks drained the fuck out of me.
A twelve-count box of condoms hated to see those two coming.
And the number of loads they’d swallowed between the two of them had to belong in the book of records or some shit.
“I just pulled up,” I said as soon as I accepted the call.
“Just pulled up? You’re almost two hours late, Joe.”
“I know. I know. I wasn’t feelin’ good this—”
“Motherfucka, save your lies for the women you fuck. I already know you were on some bullshit.” He took a beat. “In Jackson Falls, people talk. They saw you leave the trail ride with two women.”
I shook my head. Small towns weren’t for me. People never minded their own business, and they talked too damn much. “Whatever. Like I said, I’m here now.”
“Let this be the last time you’re late, or I’ma have to replace you. This business has my name on it. My family’s name. I don’t fuck around with the Strong name.”
That caused me pause because I knew that the Strong name meant something in this part of the country.
The Strong name was a certain kind of currency, just like the Sumners name was.
But still, I wasn’t trying to hear that shit.
“Your sister-in-law ain’t finna bad-mouth your family name. It’s practically her family name, too.”
“Nah, Church wouldn’t bad-mouth me. But you represent me. And right now, you’ve got me looking like shit, Joe.”
If Bright was acting like this, I hated to see how lil’ mama was gonna act. “Yeah, well, I’ma be even later if I keep sitting here talkin’ to your ass.”
“Fuck you. Don’t get fired.”
The line went dead. Shit. I needed to get my act together and figure out who I wanted to be.
Did I want to be a grown man who had his shit together, or did I want to be an immature dude who led with his dick and dropped important deadlines?
I climbed out of the truck and made my way to the front door.
She showed up less than a minute after I rang. “Can you meet me around the back?” She motioned with her hand.
Shit! Here I went, messing up again. I knew better than to ring the front doorbell. Why would she want me to walk through her newly remodeled house? I went through the side gate and met her at the door of the former carport.
That was the project. The former owners of her house had done a janky-ass conversion of their carport into what, to me, was a shed.
She had a gang of apple trees on her property, so the former owners probably used to sell apples out of it.
It was in terrible shape. They’d done a piss-poor job of enclosing the carport, and time and lack of upkeep had done the rest. She was converting the space into a production room for her haircare business.
Then she was building a detached garage on the other side of her house.
The house she bought was a small cottage, but it came with a lot of property.
I could hear hammering as I walked around to the back of the house, so I knew that, even though I was late, my crew had come on time.
I was thankful for that. Maybe since she didn’t have to wait for me, she wouldn’t be all that annoyed.
She opened the door while typing into her phone. “What’s up? Good morning,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t start her shit.
“Hey.”
I looked past her, and I could see Mario and Felix working on demolition.
“I’m not a cop,” she said, and I had to hold in a sigh.
She was gonna start her shit. “I don’t police grown folks.
I stated the other day how serious I am about my project, and you seemed offended that I would question your work ethic.
Now, on the first day of the project, you’re two hours late.
I’m building a brand. I don’t have two hours built into my daily schedule under the waste time category.
I should’ve been at my current production facility . . . producing. I—”
I cut her off. “Say, don’t put that on me. My guys were here. You could’ve left.”
“And left two strangers in my brand-new house? I don’t know them.
I was introduced to you. I was told you’re the foreman.
If you have better things to do than be present at my project, then please feel free to get in the wind.
Otherwise, be here on time, . . . ready to do your fucking job.
You know, the one both me and Bright are paying you to do? ”
Right before I could light into her ass about the shit she said, a voice spoke out. “What’s up?” It was Bright. I figured he had to show up to the job site to make sure his precious baby sister-in-law’s project was on track.
“Nothing,” Church told him. “I’m just a little pissed that I wasted two hours waiting for my foreman to arrive. I should’ve been working on getting products made for Manor Days.”
He sighed. “We’re here now. Go ’head and go. Get done what you can. Jones’ll be here on time from now on. Won’t you, Jones?”
I wanted to tell his bitch-ass to shut the fuck up. Bright was my first cousin, and I fucked with him the long way, but the way he was on Church’s titties pissed me off. “Wow. Her sister must have your nuts in a chokehold.”
“Nah. It’s not about my wife or my sister-in-law. It’s about you.” He jammed his finger in my direction.
“I’m out.” Church stormed into the house.
“I did my shit,” Bright continued once she’d left.
“I fucked off and fucked around. But then I grew up. This is my damn brand. My name is on this company. And when I hired you, my name went on you. If you don’t give a shit about your name, .
. . about your life, that’s on you. Go back to doing whatever you were doing before you fell into Jackson Falls.
Keep roaming around the motherfuckin’ country, laying up on one woman after another.
Nobody gives a fuck. But if you’re really trying to do something different—like you said you were—don’t piss on this opportunity.
And definitely don’t piss on my sister-in-law.
This business puts bread in her pocket. She needs it to be successful.
She’s a young black woman out here getting it for herself.
Ain’t that what all you young niggas want?
A woman who brings something to the table?
How is she supposed to bring something to the table when the motherfucka that’s makin’ the table keeps showin’ up late to work? ”
“I’m not always late. It’s day one, dawg.”
“And your ass was late. How does that look, Jones?” His expression was both serious and disappointed. “Come on, Joe. Be the man you claimed you’re finally ready to be.”
I managed to make it to work on time for the rest of the week, even getting up early on Saturday morning to help Bright out at a local event.
Saturday was the first day of Manor Days.
Manor Days was a week-long event hosted by my aunt and uncle’s lodge, Manor at Sienna Sunset Resort, on the property’s grounds.
It was a display of all the best that both the lodge and the Strong family had to offer.
There were nightly cookouts for the lodge guests, guided tours of the property, vendors, a rodeo, a parade, a chili cook-off, and all manner of festivity.
The vendor booth for Bright’s company, Jackson Strong, was situated between his wife’s booth and Church’s booth.
Bailey’s booth showcased her bed and breakfast, Stronghart Manor.
I couldn’t really tell what Church was selling, but Manor Days officially kicked off at 9:30 a.m., and by 10:00 a.m., Church had a long ass line.
“What’s your sister-in-law over there slingin’?” I asked Bright. “I know the line ain’t that long for beard oil.”
Bailey overheard me ask about her sister.
“Church and Mari’s haircare products actually are that girl,” she informed me.
“They usually only sell wholesale to salons, barbershops, and stuff. These vending events are the only opportunity regular folks have to get their hands on the product. They show up and show out for Apple Head.”
“Apple Head?”
“It’s the name of their company.”
I watched Church and the woman working with her service the customers and work to keep the line moving.
When she was talking shit in my face about having things to do, I paid her no mind, thinking she was just one of those spoiled, whining-ass chicks.
But looking at the line, it dawned on me that she probably spent the last few months preparing for this event.
Seeing her in action made me better understand the urgency of having a production room at her house.
Yeah. I would stop bullshitting and get her project done for her.
If she was as young as my cousin thought she was, and she was on her shit enough to have the long-ass line she had, she needed support. I would give it to her.