He's Just A Friend (28 page)
Read He's Just A Friend Online
Authors: Mary B. Morrison
“Fuck, him!” Darius yelled. “This is bullshit!” What a trip. What a goddamn trip.
Damn, Darius's dick was functioning independent of his brain. His dick was hot from the friction and hard as steel ready to explode in his hand. Pumping Slugger several times, Darius slowed his pace to prolong his ejaculation.
“Fuck 'em! Treating me like some orphan. Shit! I'd starve before kissing their asses or work for “the man.” That's not how Darius Jones gets down. I'm a man. The man.”
And that fine sistah Darius had met at church on New Year's Eve, what was her name, Fancy, yeah Fancy Tyler or Taylor or somethin' like that, she was all woman. Picturing sliding his dick between Fancy's nice large perky breasts with firm nipples beckoning him to suck 'em, Darius stroked faster.
Sexy teasing cocoa complexion. Beautiful brown eyes. Immaculate physique. From her pedicure to the top of her head Fancy was without question the most beautiful woman Darius had ever met. They'd make a great-looking couple. He'd wanted to hit that pussy for almost a year, and Darius would be straight lyin' if he said he cared that Fancy was dating his boy Byron. She'd mentioned something about being single when they'd met so maybe she was no longer dating Byron. Either way, Darius wasn't trying to take Fancy from Byron, be her man, be her sponsor, marry her, or any ig'nant shit like that. Why did females take him seriously? He just wanted to bang her a time or two 'til the backed-up cum inside his balls rumbled through his big-ass nuts and blasted inside his jimmie, then he'd move on to the next female.
“Whoa!” Darius watched his thick white cum squirt in the air like a fountain landing in the crevices of his stomach. “Wheeww. Oh, my gosh. Damn, that shit felt good.” Massaging the semen into his balls, Darius's erection wouldn't subside so he continued stroking his shaft. Forget Fancy, today wasn't a good day for anything except putting his life in order.
Three expecting women were liable for Darius's fucked-up mood: Ciara, Ashlee, and Desire. Ciara had it coming. Any woman who tried to date like a man could only blame herself for getting caught up in the game.
Darius was lucky, and luck did have a way of protecting his ass from the dumb shit he'd done, but he hadn't been very fortunate since Ma Dear had died. Ma Dear was his foundation. His salvation. The edge of his bed moved again. Cool air swept his feet. Darius lifted his head to witness a different indent, only this time the imprint was at the edge of his bed, closer, seemingly holding his feet. Darius smiled.
Every man needed a woman that he cherished. If Ma Dear were alive instead of visiting him in spirit, Darius was positive she'd convince his mother to give him back his business. Death was inevitable and having his grandmother was impossible. Or so he'd thought until now. He knew she was there with him. Darius was a survivor but hopefully his mom wouldn't let him suffer much longer.
With a measly quarter of a million dollars in his combined accounts, Darius could sponge off of that until he started college at UCLA in the fall, about seven months from now. Around the same time all of those money-consuming brats were due to arrive, crying, eating, shitting, and sleeping all day long. Fortunately child-rearing was a woman's job. The only dependent Darius wanted to treasure was Ashlee.
Ashlee. Darius thought he could trust his stepsister. They shared everything from childhood memories to walking down the aisle in their parents' wedding to a hospital room after they were injured when Darius rescued Ashlee from the fire that Ciara had set to his office building. But when Ashlee's nurse handed Darius that small brown paper bag with a bottle of prenatal vitamins inside prescribed for Ashlee Anderson, that's how Darius had discovered Ashlee was carrying his child. Ashlee was the one woman who wouldn't fuck around on him.
“Huuhhh.”
Sighing heavily, Darius couldn't imagine another guy nibbling on Ashlee's pink nipples, gently kissing her small clit, or bringing Ashlee to a sweet, savory release of vaginal fluids that he'd grown to enjoy tasting. Narrowing his eyes, Darius couldn't envision another man's dick roaming inside Ashlee, spitting seeds inside his woman. No man could love a woman better than Darius. Leaning on his side, Darius held his dick at the base of his shaft, smiling. Slugger was nine and three-quarters of an inch long, four inches thick, skilled in pussy satisfaction, and certified triple platinum. A dick made to share.
Sighing heavily, Darius couldn't imagine another guy nibbling on Ashlee's pink nipples, gently kissing her small clit, or bringing Ashlee to a sweet, savory release of vaginal fluids that he'd grown to enjoy tasting. Narrowing his eyes, Darius couldn't envision another man's dick roaming inside Ashlee, spitting seeds inside his woman. No man could love a woman better than Darius. Leaning on his side, Darius held his dick at the base of his shaft, smiling. Slugger was nine and three-quarters of an inch long, four inches thick, skilled in pussy satisfaction, and certified triple platinum. A dick made to share.
Thinking of dicks, the corners of Darius's mouth retracted as he rolled onto his back. If his half-brother, Kevin, hadn't stolen over a million dollars from his company, well the company wasn't his anymore but that nigga had done righteous to get out of town overnight. Kevin wasn't slick. But Darius blamed himself for going against his main principal, to never trust anyone except himself. After Darius announced Kevin as his Executive Vice President at Somebody's Gotta Be on Top, Kevin had gotten closer to Ashlee, and Darius had foolishly appointed Ashlee as his Finance Director. No woman would ever manage his money again. Kevin was clever enough not to steal any checks. Instead, Kevin had copied one check then ordered duplicates.
Kevin had probably flown the red-eye back to Harlem to beg for that old janitorial position he'd had before working for Darius. Lots of shit fell apart last year, all in one day. That same night Kevin left L.A., Ashlee's father picked her up from the hospital in Los Angeles and flew her back with him to live in Dallas like he was her knight in shining armor and shit. Darius hadn't seen nor spoken with Ashlee since that night because Lawrence kept answering her goddamn phone. When would Lawrence realize he couldn't protect his grown-ass daughter from Slugger? No man could. With or without Lawrence's blessings Darius would fulfill his desires of divorcing Ciara and marrying Ashlee.
Desire. Now that was a bitch who had a slither of faith so shallow it could effortlessly slide underneath the belly of a dead snake without touching a thing. Darius was too drunk to remember to put on a condom and Desire was too eager to claim her baby from a twenty-two year old multimillionaire. Trickster. That's why she'd raced back to London, so Darius wouldn't confront her and make her have an abortion. Desire's baby probably wasn't his anyway. A one night stand and passions for hardcore sex was all they'd shared in common.
The way Desire circled the outside of Darius's ass-hole with her tongue then tea-bagged his balls into her mouth before squatting down onto his thick chocolate bar as she wrapped her pussy muscles around his shaft, suctioning the cum from his nuts, made Darius yell her name twice, and that was a first. If he could remember all that shit, why couldn't he remember to wrap up Slugger? Wait a minute. Sitting up in his bed, Darius suddenly recalled he had put on a condom. But it was nowhere in sight the next morning. “That trickster pulled my protection off.” Otherwise how could she possibly be pregnant with his baby?
The hell with females. Darius decided to chill at his Oakland residenceâhis home away from his Los Angeles homeâfor a few more days until after his half-brother's funeral. Darius didn't mean to sound as though he didn't give a damn about Darryl Jr., but
“Ou-wee,”
Darius was relieved like a muthafucka when Kevin clarified that the Darryl who was shot and killed on New Year's Eve wasn't their father.
“Ou-wee,”
Darius was relieved like a muthafucka when Kevin clarified that the Darryl who was shot and killed on New Year's Eve wasn't their father.
Answering his phone on New Year's Day, Darius was ready to hang up as soon as he'd recognized Kevin's voice then Kevin yelled, “Darryl's dead!”
Immediately Darius thought it was Darryl Sr., his father. The dad he'd never known. The dad who'd finally accepted responsibility for being his father. Darius was speechless.
“Man you still there?” Kevin had asked.
Darius recalled whispering, “What happened?”
“On that corner, mein. Wrong place. Wrong time.”
“You mean DJ? Not Dad?”
“Yes, brother. Our brother. DJ.”
Inhaling through his nostrils for what appeared to be a full sixty seconds, Darius's lungs had inflated. Slowly the warm air escaped his mouth. “Where are you?”
“Don't worry about me, mein. I gotta run. I'll see you at the funeral.”
Darius was relieved because his biological dad, a former NBA All-Star had become more of a friend than a father, and Darius was so happy to have Darryl Sr. acknowledge him as his son.
Irrespective of age, every man needed his father just as much as his mother, if not more. And hearing his real dad say, “I love you, son,” allowed Darius to shed tears of forgiveness for Darryl Sr. not being a part of his childhood. Now that Darius's funds were dwindling, and his Mom and Wellington were trippin', Darius desperately needed Darryl's continuous help. Darryl Sr. had single-handedly gotten Darius the full basketball scholarship to UCLA with the promise of Darius entering the NBA draft within a year or two.
The lubricant had dried to a crust but Darius's dick was still on swole. He hadn't had sex in over a week. That was ridiculous.
Let me call Fancy, Darius thought. I know we just met a few days ago but I need to bust this second nut before my balls erupt. All I really need is a warm pulsating pussy. And since I'm in Oakland, based on proximity, Fancy happens to be option number one.
Lowering his bed, Darius retrieved Fancy's business card from his nightstand which only contained her first name, e-mail address, and phone number.
Fancy answered on the first ring, “Hello.”
“Hey, Ladycat. What's up?”
“Who's this?” Fancy replied.
Yeah, right. Women. Like she didn't have caller ID. “Darius, you wanna hang for a minute?”
Fancy snapped, “I don't just hang. You need a destination. Call me back in five.”
“Whateva nigga you talkin' to on the other line can wait. You've got a real man now.”
“Apparently not, because a real man would respect my choice to call back. Hold on.”
“Yeah, she's no fool,” Darius mumbled, waiting for Fancy to click back over.
“Hey, I apologize. I've had a pretty hectic day. I was just finishing up scheduling an interview for a job and earlier I was surfing the employment section.”
“Okay. That's cool, I guess,” Darius said pretending to be interested. “So when do you start work?”
“Who knows? You know how bad this job market is. I would've started at this property management company today if they'd offered a managerial position. Hey, maybe you can give me a job with your company. I've got great skills.”
“Well, let me invite you over for a private screening. Who knows? Maybe I'll cast you in one of my films.”
“Thanks, but I'm not that easy. I don't do bedside interviews. Besides I already have plans. In fact, I need to start getting ready for my date, but if you'd like, you can take me out this Saturday night and we can talk. Call me tomorrow. Bye, Darius.”
“Talk?” Darius shook his head. “Bye, Ladycat.”
“By the way, I like that nickname. I'll keep it. Good-bye.”
Ladycat was just like all the rest of the women and Darius knew Fancy wasn't independent. But she was a fool if she thought Darius would pay her bills and give her money like Byron. Kimberly Stokes was the only pussy Darius ever had or would pay for. Women. Thinking of tricksters, he was still holding the cordless in his hand when his mom's name popped up on the caller ID.
Reluctantly, Darius answered, “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”
“Depressed,” Darius lied. “Can't believe my brother is actually dead. But,” Darius sniffled, “I'll be okay. Eventually. I guess.”
“Oh, honey, I know it's so sad. When are you coming back to L.A.? Your father and I need to sit and talk with you about finding a job. And you still need to sign off on this check.”
Forcing tears, Darius cried, “I just said I was depressed. I can't think about anything right now. I need time to myself.”
“Okay, honey. Don't cry. But Wellington is threatening toâ”
Darius cried louder.
“Never mind. It can wait. I'll deal with Wellington. Just let me know when you can make it back to L.A. Sometime this week or at least before the end of January would be good.”
Sniffling, Darius replied, “Sure, Mom. Whateva you want.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I know you're sad but you really didn't know Darryl that well.”
“What?!” Darius yelled, “I don't believe you! I'm suffering and as usual you're being selfish.”
“You'll be all right. I've got to go. I love you, sweetie. Call me tomorrow.”
“You sure don't act like you love me. Bye.” Darius lay the phone beside his thigh. The person his mom truly loved was her husband and anything Wellington said went, even if it was against her only child.
“Fuck 'em!” Darius didn't need his mom. Or Wellington. Looking up in the mirror, Darius's dick stood alone, lonely with no playmates, pointing toward the ceiling. Darius had to release his frustration so he picked up the cordless and dialed option number two, Kimberly Stokes.
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