Chapter 9
Juniper Weaver
I always managed to get myself in situations that I didn’t have the upper hand in.
All my hours of wiggling, I’d managed to loosen the ropes on my hands, which I didn’t willingly allow Faheem’s stupid ass to put on me this morning.
His big, ugly ass got me while I was sleeping.
He didn’t even change me out of the biker shorts and oversized tee-shirt I wore to bed.
He put fucking socks on my feet and called it a day.
I cussed him out so badly, he eventually tied a cloth over my mouth preventing me from speaking.
I might have not been able to speak that didn’t stop me from cussing him out in my head.
Why he thought it was a good idea to take me to meet his family in night clothes and socks was beyond me.
Honestly, I didn’t understand why I needed to meet them.
We weren't really going to be together. This marriage wasn’t real.
It was about saving my life, not even clearing my dad’s debt.
That was just an added bonus I threw in there to play hardball.
I didn’t need nor did I want to know Faheem’s family.
I’m sure they were going to be ass holes because they liked his girlfriend and saw me as the outsider.
I’d pass on meeting the passive aggressive family.
All I wanted to do was keep this fake marriage as simple as possible.
Soon as I was able to divorce Faheem, I could with no problems.
Now, when I was able to wiggle my hands loose, I thought it was a blessing from above.
Maybe I could escape and get out of here without having to marry Faheem.
I was just about to leave when I heard Faheem and his little funky ass girlfriend arguing–another person I didn’t want to deal with.
Mixie, or whatever her name was, had nothing to worry about with me.
I had zero desire to fuck with her nigga.
He was cute or whatever, but I didn’t like dick that didn’t belong to me.
All that hostile energy, she needed to save for her nigga.
I came up with the bright idea to knock the next person who came into the room, so I hid behind the door, with the small white table lamp in hand.
I waited, thinking I could catch whoever off guard.
Wrong, being that it was Faheem who came into the room.
That nigga easily got the upper hand like he’d been expecting me to be there, leaving me defenseless, and him in control once again.
Faheem pinned my arms at the sides of my head to the bed and using his weight to straddle me, keeping my lower body pinned down with the weight of his body.
His black eyes seemed darker than normal, and the way he yelled at me said he was pissed off.
It had me questioning if I made a mistake in trying to knock him out.
Faheem cocked his head to the side, licking his lips before smirking at me.
I thought he was about to say something smart.
Instead, he did the unexpected… Bending his neck, he aggressively crashed his lips into mine, forcing a kiss I didn’t have the power to reject.
My lips followed the lead of his sensually aggressive kiss.
When his tongue slipped into my mouth, a moan fell from my lips.
I felt him pulling my hands above my head and clasping them with one of his massive hands, with his free hand slowly roaming the length of my body.
Sneaking his hand under my tee-shirt, he found his way to my titties, kneading them tenderly.
Unwillingly, I arched my back, desperately moaning to feel more pleasure from his hands.
He squeezed my breast then rubbed my nipple slowly, I felt my pussy gushing from anticipation.
Our lips locked as our tongues battled for dominance going back and forth between our mouths.
His hand moved from my breast to the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down enough to get his hand inside my pants.
Cupping my pussy, he rubbed his palm over my clit.
His fingers played in the wetness of my folds.
I broke the intense kiss we were locked in. “Fuck,” I moaned frantically on the verge of crying. It felt like I was about to cum any second.
Then, out of nowhere, Faheem stopped playing with my pussy, pulling his hand from my pants, fingers glistening from my juices.
A sinister smile formed on his lips as he looked down at me.
“For someone who swore they didn’t want me, you let a nigga have his way with you.
And that pussy is snitchin’ on ya ass. She wetter than mutha fuckin’ water. ”
It felt like cold water was poured on me looking up at Faheem’s smug ass grin.
“Get the fuck off me,” I angrily said the first thing that came to mind, using my attitude, trying to mask my embarrassment. My overly eager ass was ready to just give up the pussy. After all that shit I talked, I needed my ass whooped for being so willing.
“Ion know, you might flood the room. I know that pussy wet as fuck still,” Faheem joked, making me roll my eyes.
“Just like that, it’s a desert again.”
“Yeah, aight. Don’t try no crazy shit again. I’ma lay ya ass out next time you try to hit me again.” Faheem gave me a serious look letting me know he meant what he said. Then he got up, releasing my hands. “Here.”
Faheem threw a bag at me as I slowly sat up. I didn’t know where the bag had come from, but it had clothes in it.
“Hurry up and put that shit on, so we can get this shit over with,” he commanded me.
Making my way to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me.
Pulling the clothes from the bag, I smiled seeing the bra and panties along with the matching purple fitted track suit.
Looking around the bathroom, I found a shelf with rags.
I grabbed one of the rag, then wetting it, with soap and water.
As I was about to clean my still drenched pussy, the bathroom door flung open.
“I’m coming, damn!” I snapped seeing Faheem standing in the doorway.
Not saying a word he snatched the rag from me.
I frowned about to say some slick shit to him when he pushed me into the sink.
Lifting my leg with one hand, the other went to work assaulting my clit rendering me speechless.
My lips were stuck in an O shape. Moans were the only sound I could make as my hands gripped his arms to brace myself for the orgasm that hit my body.
Tears really slipped from the corner of my eyes while my body spasmed uncontrollably.
Faheem grinned, watching me intently as I came.
He refused to stop rubbing my clit, prolonging my orgasm.
“Pleaseee,” I begged, looking up at him. I needed relief before I passed out. My orgasm was still going strong.
Finally relenting after a few more minutes, Faheem allowed me to catch my bearings, laying my forehead on his chest. “Now you can clean that pussy off.” Faheem smirked then licked his fingers clean as he walked out the bathroom, leaving me with my head spinning.
***
The walk towards the living room felt like the longest walk of my life.
I was mad at myself for letting Faheem have his way with me so easily, but I would be a liar if I said that it didn’t feel amazing.
That one touch and kiss had me seconding guessing everything that I knew.
He had my head in the fucking clouds, I didn’t like that.
I was ready to risk it all whenever I was around Faheem.
His dick had to be half of his body size.
Feeling his hard dick pressed against my pussy, it felt huge and had my mind curious to see if it was as big as I thought it was.
I could see how Faheem had bitches going crazy over him.
Hell, if I was weak minded, I would believe that Faheem really wanted me just off of the passion from his kiss.
Luckily, I wasn’t stupid enough to think a nigga like him wanted me forreal.
His ass probably didn’t have a faithful bone in his body.
He’d just fingered me like his girlfriend wasn’t in the same house as us.
I would never take Faheem serious, only a dummy would.
For my own sanity, I had to chalk up the intense desire for Faheem to being overly horny with not many options.
Walking into the living room, all eyes were on us.
The first face I spotted was Big Frank sitting in a large chair with the woman who had come into the room earlier today, sitting on his lap.
She had to be Faheem’s mom; they looked a lot more alike than Faheem and Big Frank.
It made sense, I just knew she was going to help me earlier, but all she did was apologize and shut the door back.
She was short, petite, with a honey brown skin complexion.
She had a short pixie cut that complimented her slender face, the same chinky black eyes as Faheem, and thick heart-shaped lips. The woman was a beauty for sure.
On the loveseat to our right was another female, I assumed Faheem’s sister.
Not because she looked like him, but Big Frank was her twin.
She had his gingerbread colored skin complexion, round face, light brown round eyes, high cheekbones, and wide lips that filled her face.
Even though she was sitting down, you could tell her body was stacked.
Her hair laid out flawlessly in a jet black bob that framed her face perfectly.
Then there was Mixie standing off to the left side frowning.
“Why you just wash yo’ hands?” Mixie asked, not missing a beat. She had daggers shooting from her eyes at the both of us. I looked back at Faheem seeing him drying his hands off with a paper towel.
“ ‘Cause I can.” Faheem shot Mixie a warning with his eyes. Niggas really weren’t shit. He was checking her when his ass was up to no good.
“I’m Toi, and you are?” Faheem’s mom said, standing from Big Frank’s lap, walking to me with her hand extended for me to shake.