Chapter 4
4
Mona
T he moment I sat across from Clinton, I wanted to fuck him. I wasn’t sure how I’d make it happen, but I’d begun plotting immediately. He was deliciously fine, with his chiseled features and medium brown skin. His lips looked as if they were made to be kissed, with his beard lined perfectly around them. He had just enough hair on the top of his head for me to grab while he dined on my pussy.
I knew he’d offer to walk me to my room because he was a gentleman, but for that same reason, I didn’t think getting the dick would be easy. Thank God for those edibles. When my eyes landed on his dick print, my mouth began to water, and I wouldn’t be satisfied until he filled it.
“Fuck!” he shouted when my mouth covered his dick.
I slowly bobbed my head up and down, covering as much of his length with my mouth as I could. What my mouth couldn’t cover, my hand did, and I slid it up and down, matching the tempo of my mouth.
“Mmm,” I moaned.
“You gon’ fuck around and have a mouth full of nut.”
His warning did nothing but encourage me to give it all I had. It had been quite some time since I last sucked a dick, but it was like riding a bike, and my tricks came back to me with ease.
Gently sucking, firmly gripping the base, slipping my tongue around the head, and letting it hit the back of my throat caused his dick to pulse. When he palmed the back of my head, I knew it wouldn’t be long before his warm semen filled my mouth.
“Argh!” he groaned. “Fuck! I shouldn’t have let you do that.”
He pushed me away, and his dick slipped from between my lips. I swallowed every drop he released and licked my lips.
“What’s wro—”
Before I could ask, he swooped me from the floor and tossed me on the bed.
“Take that shit off.”
I did what he demanded without hesitation, keeping my eyes on him as he undressed. Seeing his dick live and in color was different than seeing his print or even having him in my mouth. Clinton was long and girthy, and I prayed he knew what to do with all the Lord had blessed him with.
He stood at the foot of the bed and beckoned me with his index and middle fingers. I crawled toward him, stopped at the edge of the bed, and waited for more directions.
“As good as you look on all fours, I want you on your back with your legs open wide.”
Again, I didn’t hesitate to do what he asked. By this time, my pussy was sopping wet. I reached between my legs to touch myself but felt a sting on the back of my hand.
“Ouch.”
“Did I tell you to touch yourself?” I shook my head. “This is my pussy until I say different. You don’t touch my pussy unless I tell you to.”
My eyes widened as he got on his knees, wrapped his arms around the top of my thighs, pulled my ass to the edge of the bed, and buried his face in my pussy.
“Whew, shit!”
Upon contact, he almost took my breath away. Just as it had been ages since I’d sucked dick, it had been just as long since I’d had the pleasure of having a man’s face between my thighs.
Every lick, suck, swipe, and flicker of his tongue brought me closer to heaven. When he added his fingers to the mix, using his thumb to massage my clit and sliding his fingers inside me, all while his tongue worked its magic, I became undone.
“Oh my God! Shit, I cummin’!”
I’d never felt so good in my life, and I wanted to feel it again. The pulsing of my pussy was so intense I swore I could feel it pounding in my chest. Clinton didn’t stop until he pulled another orgasm from the depths of my soul.
His face and beard glistened with my juices when he came up for air. After the powerful climaxes I’d just experienced, I should’ve been ready to tap out. However, I was anxious to find out if he knew how to work his magic stick.
“Move up. I want you to look into my eyes while I fuck you like I’m the last nigga who’ll ever do it.”
I scooted to the center of the bed, and Clinton followed me, leaving kisses on my legs, inner thighs, stomach, breasts, neck, and finally, my lips. I opened my legs wider as he adjusted himself on top of me.
Slowly, his lips connected with mine, and I inhaled my scent as I tasted my nectar on his tongue. Something about us swapping the juices of my honeypot turned me on, and I began to grind against his erection that was pressing against my bud.
Our tongues continued to wrestle, becoming more aggressive as he slid his hand between us and positioned the head of his dick at my entrance. Aside from my dildo and vibrators, nothing had been inside my walls, so I tensed as he pressed his way inside.
He removed his mouth from mine and looked into my eyes. “Relax, baby. I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s been a while, so I’m a little—oh, shit!”
My walls stretched wide to fit his girth, momentarily taking my breath away.
“Damn, Mona. This pussy feels better than I imagined, baby.”
“Mmm.”
“Look at me.” I didn’t realize my eyes were closed until he said something. “You’re beautiful, inside and out, baby. Don’t ever let another soul determine your worth. You deserve to be loved, honored, and cherished.”
As he spoke, he applied slow, deep strokes. It felt amazing, but coupled with his words and the way he looked into my eyes, it was out of this world. Suddenly, the sides of my face felt wet.
“Mona, baby, why are you crying?”
“I, umm, I don’t know. It just… feels so good, and what you said was so sweet.”
“As long as they’re tears of joy, you can cry me a river. I’m gon’ make this pussy cry, too.”
Clinton told not one lie. Me and my pussy cried all night long. I’d never wanted time to stand still like I did that night. We didn’t doze off until light began to peek through the blinds. When I woke up, I was disappointed to find the other side of the bed empty.
“Well, it was good while it lasted.”
When I moved to get out of bed, the soreness between my thighs reminded me that last night… and this morning wasn’t a dream. As beautiful as the last ten hours had been, it was time for me to do what I’d come to New Orleans to do.
My life was nothing like I imagined it would be at this age. I was supposed to be a happily married, stay-at-home mother with at least three children. Instead, I’d failed at being a wife, and my body failed at allowing me to be a mother. Even if I wanted to stick around, no man wanted a woman who was almost forty and couldn’t have kids.
I almost felt hopeful after spending the last several hours with Clinton. The sex was everything, and the idea of a future with him zipped across my mind once or twice. Then reality struck, and I realized my time with him was temporary and would soon come to an end.
After cleaning the tub with the cleaning products I’d picked up when I arrived, I filled it with hot water and some bath salts. I then retrieved the pills I planned to take to make my transition peaceful and painless, lined them up along the edge of the tub, and poured myself a glass of wine.
I turned on the TV, chose a random channel, and returned to the bathroom. Before getting into the tub, I turned off my phone, placed it on the counter, and looked in the mirror. The first thing I saw was the passion marks Clinton had left all over my neck and breasts, which made me smile.
“Maybe in another life, things could be different.”
As I let my robe fall from my shoulders, I heard a knock on the door, causing me to freeze. I’d specifically told the people at the front desk to tell the cleaning people not to come to my room, and I had the sign on the door handle. They’d honored my wishes the past few days, but maybe this crew hadn’t gotten the message. I would have ignored them, but the knocking continued.
“Shit!”
I put my robe back on, tying it around my waist before leaving the bathroom and going to the door. I looked through the peephole and gasped when I saw Clinton.
I rushed back into the bathroom, poured my wine into the sink, gathered my pills, and swiped them into the wastebasket. When I finally opened the door, I was breathing like I’d just run a mile.
“Hey! What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t see my note?”
He entered my room with his luggage, letting the door close behind him.
“You left a note?”
“Yeah, I wanted to let you know I’d be back. My flight got canceled, but I had to check out of the room because the hotel didn’t have any vacancies for the next few nights. You want some company for the next few days?”
“You’re staying?” He nodded, and I jumped into his arms.
He came back. He actually came back. He would never understand what it meant to me… for me. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live, but not with the same mindset I’d lived with for the past decade. He would never know how he’d changed my life—a life that might have ended had he come a few minutes later. Clinton may have just saved my life.