Big Juicy Lips (8 page)

M
isty peeled off her jeans and stood in front of Brick. She rubbed the crotch of her gold, lace-trimmed panties. “I got something for you. Come over here and smell it.”

Playing his role in the fantasy that he enjoyed, Brick pressed his face between her legs and took a deep whiff. Shocked by the strong and unmistakable scent of male ejaculation, Brick yanked his head up in bewilderment. Misty smiled and pulled her panties to the side. “That nigga has some strong cum, right?”

Confusion creased Brick’s face as he assumed a kneeled position. Misty beamed proudly as she presented Brick with her cum-soaked pussy. “Get it, boo. Go ahead and taste it.” Following her order, he slipped his tongue between her coochie lips.

“Is it good?” she whispered and caressed the side of his face.

She smelled musky; her taste was a mixture of sweet and sour—the way she’d tasted after making love with Shane.

“Is it good, nigga?”

He nodded and excitedly performed cunnilingus, uncertain if he was role-playing or really ingesting semen. Playing the game was a huge turn-on. It gave him permission to lose control and moan with wild abandon while fervently sucking another man’s seed out of Misty’s coochie.

She cried out with unabashed abandon, panting, gasping for breath. Undulating, as ripples of white lava overflowed, she smeared female ejaculation on Brick’s face. When she finally caught her breath, she appreciatively noted the thick sheen that covered Brick’s cheeks, lips, and the tip of his nose.

“Damn, boo. You look good like that,” she said warmly. “You got sperm and pussy juice smeared all around your mouth.”

Reflexively, Brick raised his hand toward his mouth.

“No, don’t wipe it off. It looks good, boo. That’s a money shot!”

He put his hand back down. Misty picked up the camera. “Get sexy for me—lick your lips, Brick.”

Helpless to defy her wishes, Brick’s reluctant tongue swept across his lips.

Envisioning dollar signs, Misty snapped the picture. “Ooo, that’s hot! Yeah, that’s good money right there, baby. I’m gonna put a caption under that flick. It’s gonna say,
Cum-sucking, Pussy-Eating Lips!
Tricks are gonna love that shot.”

Brick’s eyes welled with tears.

“Are you about to cry?” Incredulous, Misty stared at Brick.

“Hell, no!” His facial muscles twitched, but he managed to contort his features into a fierce scowl.

“Don’t worry, boo. I’m not gonna expose you. I’m gonna crop out your eyes.”

“What about my scar? How you gonna get that out of the picture?” His voice cracked. “I don’t wanna risk getting recognized, having niggas think I suck cum.”

“Damn, Brick. Pull yourself together.”

“I’m trying. But, you got me confused. I’m all fucked up.” Though he hated giving in, unable to fight the tears, he allowed them to fall.

She sighed. “Listen, Brick. You don’t have to worry about being recognized by anyone who knows you. Only freaks who dabble in twisted sex visit my site. I think the scar gives the picture more sex appeal. I mean, think about it. A hardcore dude with a scar, posing with cum smeared around his mouth. Man, that’s good money and I’m about my paper. We gotta show the scar. You feel me?”

Head bowed, Brick uttered a consenting sound.

“Are you ashamed of your scar?” Her tone was soft and sympathetic. Her fingers traveled to his face, traced the scar tenderly.

“Yeah, I’m real ashamed of it, Misty,” Brick admitted, anguish cracking his voice.

Misty tried to wrap her arms around his huge body, but her arms weren’t long enough. She gave up and pulled his head down; let it rest on her lap. His large head and broad shoulders felt extremely heavy on her lap, but she endured his weight. She caressed the jagged scar. “You feel insecure and inferior, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And getting down with men makes you feel like you might be a homo, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, only me and you know your secret, Brick. I’ve never told a soul. Not even Shane.”

“I know, Misty, baby.”

“If it makes you feel better, I want you to know that I looked up your case—online.”

“Whatchu mean?” He raised his head.

“I did some research and you’re definitely not a homosexual.” She looked down at him. “Feel better?”

“A little bit.”

“But—” she added and then paused for several moments.

“But, what?” He sat up straight.

Misty sighed. “You’re not gay, but from what I’ve read, you do have tendencies.”

“I ain’t got no gay tendencies,” he yelled and then covered his face in anguish.

“Calm down. It’s not your fault.” She peeled his fingers away, removed his hands from his face. “If Frankie hadn’t done that freak shit to you, you’d be a normal man. But, you’re not and you and I both know it. I need you to stop worrying about it so much. I gotchu, boo. With me, you can explore all your tendencies and never have to worry about being judged. I think I’m giving you a good life. We get paid while you play.” Misty smiled. “Feel better?”

Brick gave her a small, forced smile. “But, I gotta ask you something.” He looked deeply into her eyes.

Misty tilted her head. “What?”

“Did you really fuck a dude named Dane?”

Misty instantly relaxed. Laughing, she gave him a sexy wink. “Did my coochie taste like cum?”

“It was kind of salty; it didn’t taste the way it usually does.” Brick eyed Misty suspiciously. “Tell me the truth. Did you feed me some dude’s seed or were you just fucking with my head?”

Smiling, she wagged a finger. “If I told you the truth, it would ruin the fantasy.”

He thought about it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“One of these days, I’m gonna take our little game to a whole different level. I’m gonna bring a nigga home to our bed and tell your ass to move over.” Misty cut her eye at Brick’s groin. His penis, she noticed, was lengthening as she spoke. “When that day comes, I don’t want to hear no shit. Ya heard?”

“I won’t say nothing.”

“I’m gonna make your fantasy come true. I’m gonna let you watch while a long-dick mufucka slides his dick deep up in my pussy hole. Can you deal with that?”

“Yeah, I can deal with it.” His voice was raspy.

“If it makes it easier on you, if you don’t want to look at the nigga, face-to-face, you can pretend like you’re sound asleep, you know, like you did when Shane used to hit it. Remember how we played Shane? We let that nigga think he was fucking me on the sly. Man, you used to get rock hard and ram the shit out of my coochie after Shane busted a nut and fell asleep.”

Aroused by the memory, Brick’s dick quivered and stretched even longer.

“Just knowing you were about to get some sloppy seconds made your dick hard. Those were good times, Brick.” Misty smiled wistfully, and then her smile faded. “But the party ended after we let Shane in our little secret. After we admitted that you knew what was up, that mufucka got ghost. That nigga was so slimy, he’d rather fuck me behind your back than act like a man and fuck me right in front of your face.” Misty shook her head in disgust.

“Yeah, he was my dawg and everything. But the way he bailed on us was lame.” Brick twisted his lips indignantly.

“He fronted on us like we were asking him to get into some type of gay shit.”

“I know!” Brick blurted, sounding offended. “I just wanted him to know I was cool with it—”

“Exactly,” Misty chimed in. “All you wanted to do was watch. But, see, being the kind of person I am…I believe in letting shit do what it do. If it had gotten to the point where the three of us could have gotten honest about the situation, I know you probably would have broken down and gave Shane some head. You would have done it for me, right, Brick?”

Brick looked up at the ceiling and thought about it, briefly. “If Shane was with it, I probably would have. Not for me, though. I would have done it because that’s what you wanted.”

“Why you make it seem like you wouldn’t suck his dick for your own pleasure? It’s not a secret, Brick. I know you loved Shane just as much as I did.”

“I dug him, but I wasn’t in love with him.”

“So, let me ask you something?” Misty gave him a sneaky smile. “If you had a second chance, would you handle things different?”

“Whatchu mean?”

“If you could do it all over again, if Shane was still alive, would you give in to your homosexual tendencies?”

Brick shrugged uncomfortably, not sure how to respond.

“Boo, if we could turn back the hands of time, how far would you go to please me?”

“As far as you wanted me to go.”

“I just want to know, if you had another chance, would you let me and Shane fuck you over?”

Brick frowned. He bit down on his lip, looking too tortured to speak.

“It’s me, boo. This is between me and you. Let’s pretend like he’s still alive.”

“Okay,” Brick agreed, going along with Misty.

“If Shane showed you love and told you he wanted you to be his bitch, would you give up your manhood for him?”

He took a deep, pained breath and then exhaled. “I don’t know, Misty. That’s hard to call.”

Misty sighed.

“Okay, Misty, baby. I probably would.”

“What about me?”

Brick looked at her like she was crazy. “I wouldn’t leave you. Not for Shane or no other mufucka. We’d be a threesome, like you said.”

Misty didn’t look happy.

“What?”

“Who would you take orders from—me or Shane?”

“You! Ain’t no doubt about that. I do what you say.”

A bright smile lit Misty’s face. “That’s good to know.” Hit with an idea, she cocked her head to the side. “I just got an idea for another sweet money shot. Let’s go in the kitchen.”

Uncertain as to why she suddenly changed the subject, Brick looked perplexed, but unwilling to risk Misty throwing another tantrum, he headed for the kitchen without asking any questions. Trailing behind him, Misty barked orders, “Put on my Betty Boop apron and then I want you hold up a frying pan or something to make it look good. I’m gonna call that picture
Domesticated Bitch
. After freaks click on that shot, they gonna come out of their pockets big time to get with you.”

Brick felt deeply unhappy. Admitting that he would have been willing to be Shane’s bitch was one thing, selling ass to strangers over the internet was an entirely different matter. He really didn’t think he was gay. Sure, he had a slight weakness for Shane. The dude was pretty and masculine at the same time. Strong and sensitive. Brick used to hear Shane crying at night when they were locked up at the juvenile detention center. Crying for his mother. Hearing someone as hardcore and aggressive as Shane, crying like a baby, used to touch Brick’s heart. Made him want to crawl in Shane’s bed, kiss his lips, wipe his tears away—suck his dick if he had to—if it would have soothed Shane’s heart. But he had never tried anything with Shane. The closest he came to being Shane’s bitch was putting his dick inside Misty’s pussy while it was filled up with Shane’s cum.

“After I snap the first picture, I want you to change poses, then put your foot up on a chair, so I get a close-up of your hairy, hanging balls.”

Thinking about Shane gave Brick a monster of an erection. He took the bright-colored apron off a hook on the kitchen wall and tied the strings around his waist. When he turned around for Misty’s approval, his dick had started leaking. A circle of moisture dampened the image of the female cartoon character.

“Damn, Brick,” Misty snapped. “You need to get some control over yourself, before you bust a nut all over Betty Boop’s face.”

S
omething was terribly wrong. Misty couldn’t keep her mind on business. Dane was driving her crazy. He’d told her that he was in financial straits and couldn’t afford the plane fare to Philly. Wanting his dick in close proximity, she’d quickly sent him money for a ticket by Western Union.

Twelve hours later, while she stood in the baggage claim area of the terminal, waiting for his flight to touch down, his personalized ring tone blared. “Hey, Lil’ Bit,” he said breathlessly when she answered.

“Where are you?”

“Still in Detroit.”

“What!”

He sighed. “Yeah, I ran into some problems. After I get my situation straight, I’ll be on the next plane.”

“Can you be more specific?” Misty said, extremely irritated by his vague explanation. She pulled off her large hoop earring and pressed the phone closer to her ear.

“I know how you get, so don’t stress yourself. I’ll be there in the morning.” Dane’s voice held a tone of amusement.

“What time?” Misty hadn’t felt this vulnerable since the days she’d tried to control Shane’s activities.

“Yo, I’m not on nobody’s time frame. There’s a couple flights tomorrow morning. I haven’t decided which one I’m taking. I’ll let you know when I get to Monroe’s crib. Stay sweet, Lil’ Bit.”

Before she could protest and state that she preferred picking him up, he disconnected the call.

No, that nigga didn’t just hang up in my ear!
Indignant, Misty pushed the speed dial button and instantly got his voicemail. Huffily, she stuffed her phone inside her purse and stomped through the terminal. Fuming mad, she pushed through the throng of travelers, aggressively stepping on the heels of anyone who made a sudden stop, bumping into people who moved at a leisurely pace, knocking against rolling luggage, and forcing parents to snatch up their toddling youngsters before she steamrolled them.

Inside her SUV, she tried his number again. Voicemail.
Ignorant asshole!
Dane’s behavior was unacceptable. But she was helpless to get any kind of control until she had him in her clutches. Once that nigga stepped foot in Philly, it would be a wrap. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she was going to let him treat her like Shane had. She’d been given a second chance and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

She’d never uncovered Shane’s weaknesses, but she intended to make it her business to look for Dane’s Achilles’ heel. And when she did…that arrogant mufucka was going to bend to her will. Fuck trying to be fair and dividing the power equally. Niggas didn’t play fair and neither would she.

Unable to stop herself, she called Dane again.
Voice-fucking-mail!
Disrespect of this degree was too painful to endure. She needed healing—medication—a quick fix. Misty pointed her vehicle in the direction of the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Listening to her favorite Keyshia Cole CD, she embarked on the long trip to the designer outlet mall in Reading, Pennsylvania.

Burdened with a plethora of shopping bags from Dress Barn Woman, Lane Bryant, Maidenform, Reebok, and Sag Harbor, armed with an excessive amount of enticements, Misty rang her mother’s doorbell.

Thomasina cracked the door, and then swung it wide open. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

“I come bearing gifts,” Misty said, faking her best, hearty tone as she entered her mother’s small, well-kept home.

“It’s too early for Christmas, so what’s the occasion?” Excitedly, she relieved Misty of some of the bags and set them down on the floor near the front door.

“There’s more. I’ll be right back.” Misty gave her mother a wink.

Beaming, Thomasina shook her head in disbelief. Her child could be so sweet when she wanted to be.

Misty went to the back of the SUV and returned with bags from Bath & Body Works, Corningware, and Factory Linens. A small bag from Zales Jewelers was hidden inside her purse.

Flattered and surprised, Thomasina smiled extravagantly.

“Mom, I’m running late. I can’t wait around while you look at all your goodies, but I wanted to see your face when you open this…” Misty fell silent and dug inside her purse. She handed her mother the small package from Zales.

Thomasina gasped after opening the velvet case. Inside was a circle pendant with the word
Mom
in the center. A diamond chip was set inside the letter “
M
.”

The pendant was dirt cheap with the chintzy little diamond chip, but her mom was flipping out like she’d given her a sizeable rock. Laughing inside, Misty took the chain from her mother’s hands and delicately hung it around her neck. “Even though it wasn’t my fault, because I really was stuck in traffic, I know your feelings were hurt and this is my way of saying I’m sorry.” Misty’s voice went low. “I love you, Mom,” she whispered. Then, she laughed and threw in, “Ya heard?”

Thomasina hugged her daughter tight. “Misty, sometimes I think all that beauty you got was a curse. You’ve been hearing folks talk about how pretty you are since the day you were born. I thought your looks had you messed up in the head. But, maybe some of my ways have rubbed off on you after all. I was seriously starting to think that all you had was your Puerto Rican father’s good looks and rotten traits.”

Thomasina hugged and kissed her daughter. “There’s hope for you. I know it!” She looked down at the abundant shopping bags. “Look at all this stuff; you didn’t have to buy me all these presents.”

“I wanted to. And don’t forget—we’re still going out shopping together. This is just the beginning.”

Misty had never met her father and didn’t give two shits about him. She had no desire to look him up or question him for abandoning her. She thanked him for her looks and her cunning ability to skillfully maneuver in life. She wasn’t anything like her mother, but she’d let the old bat believe whatever she wanted to believe.

“I have to pee.” Misty headed for the stairs, yelling, “Mom! Check out that lingerie I bought you. With all that line-dancing you’re doing, you’re gonna have your shape back in no time. I thought you’d want some cute loungewear to entertain your man…when you get yourself a new one. You look real pretty, Mom. That line-dancing is doing something for you.”

Thomasina blushed and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Hooking up with another no-good man is the last thing on my mind. I’m taking those classes for the cardio benefits.”

“Sure, Mom,” Misty teased, and ran up the stairs. When she reached the top, she made a quick left turn, slipping inside her mother’s bedroom. Stealthily, she crept to a corner near the bed. She eased out her mother’s handbag that was tucked safely behind a stack of shoe boxes.

Fearful of robbers, Thomasina never left her bag out in plain view—not even in her own bedroom. With her footsteps and movements masked by the sounds of her mother excitedly rustling through tissue paper, Misty tiptoed to the bathroom. She turned the faucets on full force, muffling the sound as she rifled through her mother’s wallet. After locating the credit cards she was looking for, she jotted down the information, and returned the handbag to its hiding place. Elated, Misty bounced down the stairs.

“I have to run, Mom. Hope you like your presents.”

“I love them! Feels like Christmas in July. How much did all this cost you, Misty?”

“A couple thou,” she said nonchalantly.

“A couple thousand!” Thomasina shouted, shocked.

“Yeah, but you’re worth it.” Misty gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek. “I have to go, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t be late!” Thomasina cautioned. “It’s embarrassing walking into that class after it gets started.”

“I’ll be on time. I promise.” Misty breezed out the front door.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, she looked in the backseat of her ride, and eyeballed her own purchases—Coach, Guess, Kenneth Cole, Nine West, Movado, Enzo Angiolini, The Sunglass Hut, Ecko Unlimited. She’d bought the good stuff for herself.

Shopping for her corny mother had been bad enough. Taxing her remaining strength to hunt down clothes in Brick’s big-ass size was absolutely out of the question. There were only two bags for Brick—a pair of boots from the Timberland shop and a Fossil watch.

She squinted inside her purse; her eyes twinkled when they located the piece of paper with her mom’s credit card information. Misty had already obtained Thomasina’s social security number and her bank account information when her mom signed for her new X5. The money she’d spent on her mother was a drop in the bucket compared to what she’d be able to earn after she used the required credit card to open an online bank account.

At the bottom of her purse was a second bag from Zales. She peered inside the jewelry case. The diamond studs shone as brilliantly as her smile—the gift was welcome home bling that she intended to give Dane when he arrived in the morning.
Lemme upgrade ya, pretty mufucka
.

Brick was drunk and passed out on the sofa when she got home.
Good!
She needed some privacy to check the activity on the website. Misty dropped the bags in the middle of the living room floor, and rushed to the second bedroom, which served as her office. She smiled up at a picture of her draped in a full-length chinchilla and skimpy lingerie posing next to her X5. She fondly recalled that day. Though it had been hot as hell on the day of the photo shoot, wearing chinchilla and lingerie was so sexy that she endured the heat.

Dane was so fine; she’d probably include him in the next photo shoot. Shit, maybe she’d let Brick film Dane hitting it. Smiling, she snapped open her laptop and impatiently waited for the computer to spring to life. She logged online, and was shocked to discover that there had been seventeen hundred hits on her sex site.
Brick is a star!

There were also dozens of emails from both men and women from all over the country, complimenting Brick’s attributes. With her heart pumping with adrenaline, Misty began responding to emails, narrowing down her responses to those who lived near the Philadelphia area. She’d get in touch with those who were willing to travel at a later date. Her emotional shopping binge had cost her a fortune. Funds were getting low and she needed to quickly fatten up her pocketbook.

First thing tomorrow, she’d set up an online bank account. There’d be no more freebies. Freaks were going to have to pay to peek at Brick’s jewels.