Chapter 9
M y l e g s w e r e still a little shaky when I made it to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet with a sigh, thighs wide, robe hanging open, body sore in the best way. My pussy felt like it had been through war and lost, but I couldn’t stop smirking.
Ahmad was different. A menace with a third leg.
Pussy monster for real. He was younger than me, I could tell.
But the way he moved, the way he talked me through every orgasm like he’d studied my body in a past life?
I wasn’t even mad at the YN or the fact that I never opened my package.
I had the real dick delivered, and whew… did he deliver.
I peed, wiped, then washed my hands. That deep stroke he hit me with bent over the bench had my whole lower half feeling a way. I brushed my teeth with one hand against the sink, still replaying the way he told me to “stay up” while he was fucking me through a leg tremble.
I leaned against the counter, took a bite of banana, and let the cold water chase it down.
I was just about to tiptoe back to the bedroom when knocks came at my door.
I paused mid-sip because I wasn’t expecting anybody.
I grabbed the hem of my robe and tied it tighter around my waist, then went to look through the peephole.
My stomach dropped, then flipped, before I rolled my eyes.
“This one…”
I pulled the door open halfway and leaned my hip against the frame, eyes narrowed. Standing there, with flowers in one hand and a stupid ass smile on his face, was Travis.
“Hey, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over me. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
I crossed my arms, robe shifting with the motion. “You got me fucked up, showing up unannounced.”
He held the flowers out like they fixed anything. “I know, I know. I just… I felt bad about last night. Shit got complicated but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Complicated?” I scoffed. “You canceled. That’s not complicated.”
He frowned. “Come on, don’t do that. I didn’t want to stand you up.”
“But you did.”
“Tae…”
“You missed your window,” I snapped, voice low but sharp. “I was hot and ready to go, and somebody else slid through. And he didn’t come with excuses.”
Travis’s head tilted. “You serious?”
“You missed out, and truthfully, we should just end… whatever this is. Go home to your wife, Travis.”
He blinked, adjusting his stance like he was trying to wrap his ego around it. “So what, you're letting random dudes in your crib now?”
“Funny,” I said with a laugh. “That’s bold coming from a married man.”
“The ring never seemed to bother you before.”
“Maybe because I’ve barely seen you wear it.”
Right then, I heard the bedroom door creak open. I glanced back to see Ahmad, shirtless, wearing boxer briefs. Fine as fuck with his chains resting against his chest. He stretched like he wasn’t bothered, then leaned against the hallway wall with that cocky smirk I was starting to like too much.
“Everything good, mamas?” he asked, voice deep and still raspy from sleep. “You get lost on the way back?”
Lord, have mercy.
Travis scoffed. “Who the fuck is this, Taelyn?”
Ahmad glanced at him like he was sizing up a problem too small to stress about. “I’m Ahmad, lil’ buddy. Tae’s friend.”
I damn near choked trying not to laugh. Meanwhile, Travis looked at me like he’d just been punched in the gut. “You let him…”
“I let him do everything you were supposed to do and more,” I said with a smile. “And he didn’t have to lie to a whole wife to do it.”
Ahmad walked over casually, BDE dripping, big pressure, and slid his arm around my neck from the side. He kissed my cheek once, slow and firm, then whispered in my ear, “Hurry back. I still owe you another nut.” Then he smacked my ass and walked off all calm and unbothered.
I turned back to the married one and smiled sweetly. “You can keep the flowers. Put them on your wife’s nightstand.”
And with that, I shut the door in Travis’s face. I stood at the door for a second after I closed it, lips pressed together, pulse still jumping from the little scene that just played out. The audacity.
I turned around, finished my banana and water, and tossed the remains.
Then, I walked back down the hall and leaned against the doorway to the bedroom.
He was stretched out across my bed like he owned it.
He had his hands behind his head with one leg up, chest out, and that dick starting to stiffen again in his boxer briefs like it was responding to my energy.
“Handled yo’ lil’ situation?” he asked, eyes half-lidded.
I nodded. “Yep. Sent him back to his wife with blue balls and a bouquet.”
Ahmad smirked. “That’s cold.”
“It’s honest,” I said. “He had a chance. You took it.”
“Nah,” he said, sitting up, arms flexing. “I ain’t take shit. You gave it to me. That’s the difference. Besides, you shouldn’t be out here lettin’ married niggas fuck on you.”
I licked my lips. “Yeah. Just young ones named the pussy monster, huh?”
“How young you think I am?”
“If I had to guess… twenty-five.”
He smirked, reaching for me as I climbed onto the bed and straddled him slowly. “Close enough. Twenty-six.”
“Hmm. Five years apart,” I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You handle me well.”
“Built for it.”
“But now I need you clean.”
He raised a brow. “You tryna bathe me?”
“I’m tryna taste you again,” I murmured. “But I want you fresh out of the shower when I do.”
He sat up fully, grabbing my ass in both hands. “Lead the way then.”
We made our way to the bathroom with Ahmad trailing behind me, hands grazing my hips, dick already thick again against my backside.
I turned on the water, steam filling the space in seconds, and stepped in after removing my robe and lingerie.
I let the heat run over my body while I reached for my body wash.
He stepped in behind me, that warm, hard body pressing into mine.
I passed him the loofah. “Wash my back.”
He chuckled low. “I’ll wash anything you ask me to.”
And he did. Hands slick with soap, he moved slowly, dragging the loofah down my back, over my ass, around to my thighs. His fingers slipped between my legs, teasing my pussy just enough to make me lean forward, chest pressing to the wet tile.
“Damn,” he muttered behind me. “Yo’ pussy stay wet, huh?”
I looked over my shoulder. “You tryna find out or keep guessing?”
That made him grin. But before he could flex, I dropped to my knees. Warm water ran over both of us as I reached up, gripping that thick dick. “You tryna earn a title or somethin’?” he asked, voice deep as hell.
I looked up at him. “I just like this whole competitive vibe we have.”
I gripped the base and licked from tip to root, watching his face the whole time.
His jaw tightened, one hand landing on the back of my head.
I took him slow at first, tongue swirling, lips wrapping tight as I started bobbing my head.
The water hit my back, steam rising, his deep groans echoing off the tile.
“Fuuuck…” he grunted. “You tryna suck the life outta me.”
I moaned around him and went deeper. His hips jerked just slightly. I pulled back, spit trailing from my lips to his tip, and stroked him while I caught my breath. “Are you trembling already?”
He grabbed my jaw, pulled me up, and kissed me like I was his. Then he spun me around, gripped my ass, and lifted me like it was nothing. “You wanna talk shit? Let me show you somethin’.”
He stepped out of the shower and pulled me with him, instantly bending me forward against the bathroom sink. Back arched, ass up, titties pressed to the cool counter. My eyes locked on his in the foggy mirror. His fingers spread me from behind, and he leaned in close, breathing against my ear.
“You know what I see?” he asked, voice low and full of heat. “I see a pussy that loves bein’ fucked.” I whimpered. “You already drippin and I haven’t even slipped inside this mahfucka yet.” He lowered himself, sliding his tongue from my ass crack to my throbbing pussy.
“Oh God…” I moaned, lashes filtering. Then, Ahmad slid in deep with one stroke, and my mouth flew open as I gripped the counter, tightening. “Ahmad… fuck!”
“That’s what you needed, right?” he groaned, picking up the pace. “Real dick. Real pressure. Not no sneaky link, no silicone dick. A real nigga.”
His hips slapped into my ass, hard and wet, filling the whole bathroom with filthy sounds. The counter creaked. His fingers dug into my waist. I looked at us in the foggy mirror—his body behind mine, dick stroking deep, my face twisted in pure pleasure.
“Fuck me back, mamas,” he growled. “Show me what you got.”
I met every stroke with the same force, ass clapping, water dripping off both of us, my moans turning into damn near screams. “This dick… ohhh, fuuckkk…”
“I know, Tae,” he groaned, tilting his head back as he plunged into me. “Fuck.”
“I’m gonna… oooohhhh, shit, I’m…”
“I feel it,” he said, biting my shoulder. “Let go, mamas. Cream on this dick.”
My body shook and my legs almost gave out as I came all over his dick.
He held me up, kept stroking, chasing his nut with deep, hard strokes that made my vision blur.
Then he grunted deep in his chest, cursed low, and nutted inside me again.
He stayed there for a minute. Both of us bent over the counter, breathing hard, skin wet, mirror fogged, floor slippery.
When he pulled out, I whimpered, and he laughed. “Ahmad,” I said, catching my breath. “If I can’t walk on Monday, I’m calling out of work and blaming you.”
He kissed my shoulder, still out of breath. “Good. Let ‘em know I do deliveries.” He kissed my neck, lips warm, breath thick against my skin. “Special deliveries,” he added, palm sliding slowly over my ass.
I laughed, still folded over the counter, muscles aching, knees weak. “You’re really proud of yourself, huh?”
“Shit, I’m proud of you,” he said, stepping back to grab a towel. “You kept up better than I thought.”
I stood up on shaky legs and walked back towards the shower, eyebrow raised. “Better than you thought?”
He looked me up and down, smirked. “Aight. You showed out. I’ll admit it.”
I smiled back, still catching my breath. “Don’t play with me, Ahmad. I’ll have you back in that bed for round four.”
He licked his lips. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
I paused, then turned to face him. “You wanna do this again sometime?”
“Just say when.”
I shrugged. “Maybe… Valentine’s Day? Hold the flowers and just bring the chocolate dick.”
He smirked as I bit my lip, pulse ticking up again. “Bet.”
As we showered again and continued talking shit about who made the ugliest sex faces, all I could think about was riding his face first next time. Fine ass. Yeah, next time we were going to make a movie… literally.