Freaks Cum Out PT1 Kindle (7 page)

“What did you say earlier when I talked to you?” Brandon asked as he looked her straight in her eyes.

She seemed nervous as she stood there, thinking with makeup smeared across her face and her hair haphazardly lying all over her head. She looked more like the victim of a fight than a willing participant in one of Brandon’s fuck sessions.

“Well, I---I told you I’m like no other woman you have ever been with,” she said, stuttering a bit. She was reluctant to answer his question because she knew the point he was trying to make.

“No, let’s tell the truth. You said, ‘I will suck the cum out of your dick, lick the lent out of your ass, and fuck you to euphoria.’ Those were your exact words,” Brandon said as he grew irritated with her.

These hos were all the same. They put the pussy out on a platter and then get mad because you take a sample and leave, Brandon observed as she shifted her hands from across her chest to planting her hands on her waist. 

”You said those exact words because the shit made me laugh so hard that I dropped my phone, remember?” Brandon asked her.

She nodded

“So, you put yourself out there like that and you get mad cause I take you up on the offer?” Brandon half-asked her, but he didn’t expect a response.

She said nothing, and instead she looked at him with a blank stare. Her facial expression spoke volumes. She must have never thought of this concept before.

“You see that car? I gotta go to work and pay for that motherfucker. So I’ll talk to you later. I gotta get to work,” Brandon said, walking up the walkway from her house to his car.

“Call me later, please,” she said to Brandon’s back as he walked off.

He put his hand up to acknowledge that he heard her but he had no intention of calling. He slid into his car and sped off.

Brandon really did have to go to work but he could have stayed and cuddled with her. He could have even stayed for breakfast, but that was stupid to him.

He revved his engine and made it to the highway in record time. At 3am on a Sunday morning, the streets were clear. He turned the radio up loud and sped home. Drifting on the highway he started to think. I’m getting tired of ho-hopping. I need to be at home wrapped up in my woman’s legs.

Instead, Brandon found himself out in the streets doing 70 in a 55, dodging police radars, and drunks, trying to make it home.

Brandon tried to settle down but he always ran into the same shit; hoes disguised as good girls or some lazy freak thinking he was made of twenties, tens, and hundred dollar bills. He let out a long sigh and got off at the exit to his house.

He turned the radio all the way down and drove a little slower. The police around Brandon’s home didn’t like black men driving with nice cars. They especially didn’t like them late at night.

Only a few minutes removed from the highway, he pulled into his driveway and shut the car off. Looking up at his three-bedroom house, Brandon felt proud but couldn’t help but feel sadness as well. He was accomplishing everything he wanted, but finding a good woman to share it with was impossible.

A ringing from his pocket broke the silence in his car. There was no name to display on the screen of his cell phone, but he remembered it as the number of the girl he just left.

Why am I answering this? he asked himself as he pressed the green button on the phone.

“Yeah,” Brandon said instead of “hello.”

“Hey, boo. Did you make it home?” She asked, almost whispering.

“Yeah, I just got here. ‘Bout to take a shower and go to work,” Brandon said as he stepped out of his car.

“Oh, ok. I just wanted to ask since I forgot to ask while you were here. Ummmm…”

Here it comes, Brandon thought as he walked towards his door, bracing himself for the foolishness the girl had to offer.

“Could I, ah, borrow two hundred from you till my check comes next week?” she asked.

Brandon starred at the phone in amazement. He had no words for her. To Brandon, hanging up was the only reasonable answer. He pressed the red button and ended the call. To make sure she didn’t call back, he also turned off his phone.

“That’s the shit I’m talking about,” Brandon said aloud as he stuck the key in the door.

Entering the house, the alarm beeped, echoing through the walls of the home. As he punched the four digit code onto the keypad to silence the loud beep, he looked around and felt even lonelier now as he saw the spotless living room. 

The house was painfully clean but with no womanly touch. Brandon wasn’t much of a decorator. Despite his lack of décor experience, he had managed to pick out some nice furniture pieces, but no pictures adorned his walls.

He threw his keys down on the glass coffee table. Today, he didn’t care about scratching the glass. He just wanted the retreat of a hot shower.

I must be getting old ‘cause I remember a time when I could fuck three bitches in one night and not bat an eye, Brandon thought to himself. Shedding his clothes, he made his way to the bathroom.

His toned, but sleek six foot two frame is what kept his phone ringing. Brandon thought back to when the thought of being single forever and fucking a different woman every day was a luxury life. The last few months had brought about a change in his mind.

As he got older, so did his friends. Most of them had wives, the others had girlfriends, and all of them had kids. They looked happy with their families, and all Brandon had was an empty house and bothersome whores calling his phone.

In the shower, Brandon let all of the thoughts wash over him like the gushing water from the shower head. He had celebrated his 29th birthday a few weeks before. It was the loneliest birthday he had ever experienced.

All my boys could do was call and give me their wishes, and every woman I knew wanted me to take them out. Why would I wine and dine them on my birthday? he asked himself as he thought back on the day. He had opted for getting head from some hoe and spending the night at home, alone.

He was out of the shower now, staring at himself in the mirror. Brandon was handsome, but he was getting old. Father Time was on his back, or at least he felt like he was. His deep brown skin and black hair was all the same but his face was getting the mature look that hit most men at the near-thirty mark. That really scared him in a way.

 The fear was now that Brandon was at a point where he wanted to settle down, there was no one to settle down with. I guess it’s my fault since I’ve fucked over so many good women, he admitted to himself.

He breathed deeply and opened the door to the shower again, turning the water back on to as hot as possible. Stepping into the burning blast, Brandon thought, maybe I can wash this money-hungry bitch bait off me and get a real woman before I lose my mind.

CHAPTER 6

Black mask, feathers, glue and glitter.

She was nervous and naked, sitting on a chair in her room and staring at all her work supplies. Was this new profession what I really wanted? She thought as she scanned her room, she looked at her desk and saw the pile of brand-new textbooks. Instantly, she got a small headache. Those books cost at least one thousand dollars. Her mind began to rethink her day in the school bookstore when the register rang the ridiculous total for four text books. Next to them was a tuition bill for at least twice the amount of the books.

She shook her head and subconsciously started rubbing her nipples. Since she was younger, sex had always been a stress reliever for her.

Sabrina thought back to being sixteen and getting irritated with her algebra homework. She would excuse herself from the dining-room table to take a “break.” That break consisted of going to her room, laying on her stomach, and squeezing her legs together real tight until she came.

Not sure where or when she discovered that little technique, but it was better than a counselor or a stress ball.

Sabrina guessed that’s what started her on her way to being a sex connoisseur. She hated the word, “freak.” She never understood why it couldn’t be that she loved to fuck and cum all over herself.

She hadn’t asked anyone that question, nor did she tell people about her freakish ambition. The fact that CeCe told Sabrina about her bedroom sessions was surprising to her and she was glad Cece did. So, after Cece had showed her the video, Sabrina made an account on the website and watched a few shows. At the moment, she was massaging her clit thinking about the live videos she had seen.

Sabrina had been on the site for a month or so, thinking and wishing she could do what those people were doing. She loved the thought of someone watching her and drooling over a screen while she got fucked from the back or sucked some dick.

She was rubbing faster now, stretching her legs out. She dipped her finger in her pussy to get it wet and rubbed the fresh juices on her clit. Her pussy got so wet she used to think there was something wrong with her.

That was until she found out that the fellas loved it. The way the fellas loved her wetness, she hoped they would love her videos.

Sabrina’s rising expenses were what forced her to make the final decision on taping herself. As much as she loved to be watched, she still didn’t want everybody to know it was her on camera.

 After all the years she took off, Sabrina was back on track to finish school. I will shit bricks if I work my ass off in school but unable to get my dream job because of this bullshit, she thought to herself.

That’s when she found AmateurU.com. Sabrina couldn’t do her videos on the same site that CeCe told her about, or else she would be in one of her lunchtime gossip stories just like the other girl. Instead, she searched and found someplace else where, hopefully, no one would recognize her.

That, in combination with the mask, would disguise her. Sabrina came up with an idea for the mask, thus the reason for her supplies. If no one knew it was her, then she would be just another “freak” online, showing her goods. Plus, the mask separated her from the rest of the people on the site and surrounded her with mystery.

She had to force herself to stop playing with her pussy so she could finish gluing the feathers to her mask. It didn’t take her long to get everything glued on the mask and spread the glitter around.

Sabrina put the mask on, which would separate her from the rest of the world. She went over to her full length mirror to take a look. Her melon-sized breasts stared back at her. Her cocoa complexion was glistening from the baby oil she had rubbed on herself and the mask looked majestic with her hair wildly cascading down her back. She thought that her hazel eyes, peeping through the eye slits, looked sexy. It was only a half-mask, like those worn at Mardi Gras, but it was perfect.

She picked up her breasts and smashed them together in a playful way as she continued to watch herself in the mirror. Sabrina wanted to see what her viewers would see. She even put one in her mouth and ran her tongue around her areola. It looked sexier than it felt. She would have eaten her own pussy if she had the chance.

Satisfied with what she saw, Sabrina put her breasts in a black, lace bra and went to the camera to arrange things for the show. She got everything situated and turned the camera on.

You can do this. Pretend like it’s not there, she told herself.

Sabrina took a deep breath, and sat down on the bed, holding her favorite toy. She started by getting down on all fours in the middle of the bed and sucking the plastic dick.

She closed her eyes and imagined it was real flesh that she was thrusting down her throat. As she was about to lay back and give her pussy what it was craving, Sabrina got the weird feeling that somebody else was in the room.