Chapter 14 #3
With every toe I catered to, an inch of his pajama bottoms was pulled down.
The more I pulled them down, the more August moaned how thankful he was to have me.
His boulder was when he needed someone to take the reins.
That’s what it meant to have a partner, and he had no idea just how much of a partner he had in me.
Rising like a bear sick of the other bears’ shit, I had a nasty mug on my face when I gripped his neck. Squeezing it, his dick became hard. I was impressed and turned on more than he was, but he wouldn’t know.
Backing him into the wall, I grabbed his dick and hissed, “Shid, nigga, you already know why I’m in yo’ face.
I want this dick. If you move, I’m gon’ punch you in the balls, spin ‘round, grab my shit, an’ shoot yo’ ass.
Change the motherfuckin’ radio tune up in this bitch.
Ain’t no sensual shit going on. It’s som’ sexin’ an’ fuckin’ going on in this bitch.
I ain’t hear to do all that lovey dovey shit either.
I’m tryin’ to make yo’ ass chase me fo’ the rest of yo’ life …
tryin’ to get you to wife me the fuck up. ”
Raising his arms, he proudly stuttered, “I … I … I ain’t got no … no … problem wit’ … wit’ … wit’… that.”
And this is how he’ll ease into the position he designed for me. I got you when you aren’t fully in your shoes, baby. I know how to get your ass right, I thought, dragging my left hand down his body and jacking his dick as I descended rapidly.
“Good,” I growled, looking up at him, seeing his eyes drinking me in.
“Shit, my jackguh,” he held out as I ugly eyed the motherfucka that knocked me up twice.
Needing to put more fire under August’s ass when he regained his strength to take over, I spat, “Black, flat sheet bitch, you got me all types of fucked up. When you hear me, see me, smell me, you supposed to make that nigga gun fo’ me.
Since yo’ cloaked out ass ain’t been doing yo’ job, all ‘cause I was ready to ram my truck into my parents’ house …
I’m finna fix yo’ ass. You won’t see yo’ blanket fo’ a long time, turtleneck bitch you. That’s on God’s toes, bitch.”
“Oh, my Goddd. This motherfucka know she talkin’ ‘bout an’ to my dick rough than a motherfucka,” August whispered lowly as I nastily slurped his dickhead into my wet enough mouth.
I needed a dangerous mouth that would make his ass play hopscotch trying to get away from me. The only way to receive that was to gag on the dick until I pissed a little. For that to happen, the music needed to be changed.
August was too caught up in how I reverted us to the beginning of our budding relationship.
I wasn’t pleased with him not doing his job of changing the music so there wouldn’t be a skip in our wedding night, made just for us by us.
So, I spanked his ankles to the point it seemed as if ants were trampling on them.
“Change the damn radio’s tune, nigga, befo’ I fold yo’ ass up in this corner,” I declared as he pretended to be a scared nigga while retrieving his phone.
“What … what do … do … you … wanna …. wanna listen to?” he stammered as the bright light from his phone caused me to see pure happiness tumbling around his face.
“You see how I’m comin’ that should tell you want my ears need to hear so this mouth an’ pussy become ocean deep wet, fulla pressure,” I snarled, spanking his ankles fast. I needed them to feel as if red ants were eating his ass up.
He growled until Tear the Club Up Thugs & Three 6 Mafia’s “Slob on My Knob” slid around the room.
I didn’t know which one of us was more excited as I swayed my hips and rose on my tiptoes.
No longer spanking his ankles, I rammed my mouth down the shaft repeatedly and quickly.
Bouncing my ass to the beat and rocking my shoulders, I slid my mouth off August’s dick and blew in his dick hole as if it was a flute.
He shivered hard, causing me to giggle while suckling on his mushroom-shaped head.
My husband’s body relaxed more against the wall.
Needing him to stand like a statue, I beat my jaws, gums, the roof of my mouth, and that dangling area badly.
We were on the outskirts of Spitville. I needed us in the middle of that known area before I could seal my mouth, gargle the inches of dick inside, and the spit.
Once spit spilled from the sides of my mouth, we arrived in the center of Spitville. With my head back, ass high in the air, and hands resting on my thighs, I rolled my hips, bounced, and gargled the spit and dick as if it was mouthwash.
As if electrocuted, August shot from the wall, gripped my hair, and fucked my mouth. My tears were instant as my gag and gargles took turns tumbling around his dick.
When the chorus blasted through the too sensual room, I shook my head like a vicious dog attacking an intruder’s calf muscle.
Gripping his balls, I rolled them as if four dice were in my smooth palms. August’s knees buckled, giving me reason to believe his stomach sank.
As if I was itching to win some niggas money, I rolled his balls faster before slinging them hoes out of my hand.
“Shit!” August moaned loudly as I grabbed his balls and did that shit all over again.
Upon Juicy J breaking down his lyric before resuming his normal rapping speed, August was knocking the ridges off the roof of my mouth. Rising on his tiptoes, he dropped my head lower and rode my mouth passionately, dangerously, and attractively.
There’s my man. Fuck my mouth, baby. Come get your throne, I thought as he stopped pumping.
With tears threatening to have no eyelashes on my eyelids, August left his dick head idling in that dangly area. Consistently, I gagged. The lights were a cream hue as the music stopped.
Slowly turning his head in my direction and pulling my head back a bit, August grinned. “Peek-a-boo, I see you. Throat lookin’ like that roach man from Men in Black.”
I laughed ugly while shaking my head.
Becoming serious, August jogged his tongue across his lips.
Rubbing my face with his rock-hard pinky finger, he lovingly said, “I treasure you, my jackguh. Ain’t a bitch in this world gon’ take me from you.
I’m sorry fo’ fuckin’ up our first half of our first night as man an’ wife.
I’m no longer tryin’ to do som’ that ain’t fittin’ the bill.
I see you, Mona Abbott. I hear you, Mona Abbott.
I motherfuckin’ got you, Mona Abbott. From here on out, we just August an’ Mona Abbott.
Two street motherfuckas wingin’ life together they way.
Ruthless. Silly. Loving. Rough. Passionate.
Wild. Disobedient ‘til I bark … Saggin’ titties, poot box in the air, an’ a mouth quieter than a corpse.
I love you, my jackguh. Blink those words by the numbers if you love me too. ”
In love with him not wanting to change us, I gazed into his eyes. Slowly, I blinked once, followed by four times, and then three. His dick was no longer in my mouth when he barked our official submissive stance order.
“Saggin’ titties, poot box in the air, an’ a mouth quieter than a corpse.”
With glee hopping around me like a grasshopper plopping from one piece of grass to the other, I was in my submissive stance, eager for my husband to devour me … our way!