Chapter 9 #3
I loosened my grip. Giving into my intrusive thoughts, I placed my thumb against the tip of Royce’s crack. I slipped my index and middle fingers into her ass.
“Oh fuck.”
She melted against me.
Up.
Down.
I drilled into her. She was dripping wet. Sounds of our connection promised to end me.
“Yesssss. Yesssss. Yessss.”
Up.
Down.
My movements slowed to a creep. I wanted to hear more of what her pussy had to say to me. It was loud and quiet at once. Sloppy yet maintaining its structure. Slippery yet suffocating. Soft yet hard to fathom more days without.
Up.
Down.
“Shit feels too good, my baby.”
“Um hmmmm.” Royce moaned against my mouth.
“Kiss me.”
Her lips parted, pulling me in. I was preparing for my end. As our tongues touched, I understood I was near my ending. At any given second, my dick would be spitting out my minions. I prayed her womb could withstand the weight of my military.
“You ’bout to make that dick spit up, Mommas.”
Up.
Down.
“Um hmm.”
She was climbing a mountain of her own.
“Where you want it?”
“Uhhhh.”
“Hm? Where you want it?”
I tightened my grip around her neck. Her pussy tightened around me.
Fuck.
On the tips of her toes, she placed both hands on my chest. I was no longer driving into her. She was rolling her pussy while bouncing. Completely dismantling me, one stroke at a time. Her eyes were open. Wide with wilderness.
The final shift awakened the beast within me.
“Royce–” I warned, “I’m about to cum all in this mot– mother– fuc– ker.”
I didn’t finish my statement before my clip began to unload in her womb. My ass bounced off the chair. My limbs grew stiffer with each pump.
“Fuck, my baby,” I panted.
Uncontrollably, my seeds continued painting her walls.
What the fuck?
“Ohhhhhhhh fuuuuuuucc–”
Royce’s body slammed into mine. She was no longer bouncing on my pole. Her hips rolled, grinding her pussy against me. The contractions within drew more semen from me, forcing me to question the actual capacity of her pussy and just how extensive her pussy’s power truly was.
Fuck.
I tongued her down as I tried stifling my flow. My efforts were in vain and her pussy runneth over with all that had been stored in my sack.
She smelled like spices, oak, butterscotch, and myrrh. Like me. I’d cleaned her from head to toe without a single light in the bathroom to guide me. Dark showers weren’t an indulgence of mine, but it didn’t take much convincing from Royce.
I had her from behind in the glass encasing.
Then, I had her against the tile.
And, underneath the showerhead.
Though her hair was wrapped in a towel and one of my plain white shirts adorned her body, she was still unbelievable.
A gem.
I loved so many parts of Royce already, I wondered if time was a systematic flaw or a forgotten phenomenon in our universe. The screen of my phone obstructed my view. But, just as quickly, her body appeared on the glass rectangle. I snapped a photo.
Then another.
And another.
And others.
My obsession was growing at an alarming rate.
I exited the camera application and opened the Instagram application.
The page that Royce had created for me wouldn’t be a personal outlet or way for the world to keep up with my life.
It would only give them the false sense of closeness.
It would also make them feel as if they knew and understood me. They never would.
The page would be dedicated to the woman in my life.
Not the one presented to them with scandalous images.
But, the one in my bed. The eighth wonder of the world.
The narrative that was being written about her needed to be rewritten.
For me, it was fuck every news outlet and blog who’d reported false information. This would be our outlet.
A well-tailored, carefully curated outlet. One that emphasized Royce’s beauty and my falling–head first.
I uploaded the image I’d just snapped to a story, sure to end it where the white shirt stopped at her thighs. Most parts of her would be reserved for my eyes only.
I scrolled through the tunes, settling on Everybody’s Business by Kehlani. It was most fitting. Because what we were building was nobody’s fucking business, but a coward had made it Berkeley’s business, and as a result I’d won.
I’d won her.
I’d won at life.
And, eventually, I’d win the fucking race.
“Sleep tight, my baby.”
I lowered the light and exited. The thought of her leaving in the morning made my stomach turn. She had business to tend to. She’d made that clear. But, the first time her fine ass was free again, I’d be in her space.
Mouth on her clit.
Dick all up in her.
I searched my contacts, finding one I used more often than not. Indigo’s last text reminded me that I’d ignored his foolishness and decided not to respond.
Maybe you were right. I won’t miss that two mill.
Pointless ass message. Knew damn well you’d find your way to her. She had you whipped from the moment you met her.
Fuck you. I chuckled. It wasn’t often Indigo was right and I was wrong.
Just know we’re both wearing Burberry shirts to the baby shower. I’ll even let you walk in first.
Won’t be no baby shower.
One of us has to give our old lady some grandkids.
You’ve got that.
Ain’t ran into nobody worthy of her presence yet. You have.
You will.
I shut down my screen and took a seat in my study. With my thumb against my chin, I pondered on my next move. Everything was aligning as it should. And, there was a sleeping beauty in my bed who I refused to become background noise as I ran the last leg of the mayoral race.
It was critical that she understood her vote was just as essential as the votes of the Berkeley residents.