Shattering the Myth (32 page)

The whole night was delicious, and we finished it off with a bang. After seeing Karlin to the door and giving her kisses on her cheeks, you and I retired to the bedroom and fucked like minks till the sun came up. You were in rare form that night, baby. I've never regretted sharing that experience with you.

If you ever feel bored again and want Karlin to come over, maybe even Sandy too, just whisper three words in my ear, baby: “I wanna watch!”

My name is Page, and I'm a nymphomaniac, a sexual thrill-seeker, a sexual renegade. I love playing with fire, living a life full of drama and excitement, defying all the good girl rules, approaching situations that are both sexy and perilous. I'm a sexual rebel, and to me, danger itself is the most tremendous sexual stimulant of all.

One night I was at a club, and this sorry excuse for a man asked me was I pure. I asked him, “Do you mean pure as in pure chewing satisfaction?” He was dumbfounded, so I added, “Unless you want to suck on this pussy tonight, get the fuck!”

Like most men, he was intimidated by the sexual prowess I exude. Men like him disgust me. They brag about how they're all that in bed and can make a woman scream out their name when half the time they have trouble even finding the clit. As for the G spot, forget about it. They couldn't find a woman's G spot if she handed him written instructions and a map.

Fortunately for me, there are plenty of mad fuckers around too. A mad fucker is a man who doesn't talk about turning a sista out. He just does it. A mad fucker is a man whose cum
tastes so damn good, it makes a sista feel drunk. A mad fucker is someone who fucks a sista so hard, the next day her pussy and nipples are sore, she has a helluva stomachache, and she has trouble sitting down. That's how you know you've been the victim of a mad fucker drive-by.

Sex to a nymphomaniac is like doughnuts to a police officer. We both gotta have it. My body is so accustomed to cumming, if I don't have at least three orgasms a day, I feel sick. Sometimes when there's no man around, which is extremely rare because I have more male bitches than the electric company has switches, I make myself cum through the art of masturbation.

Masturbation is damn sure an art too. Everyone can't do that shit like a master. Those of us who have surpassed the amateurs masturbate so well, sometimes it seems like we're actually fucking. I often wonder why people feel it's more kosher and acceptable to touch the private parts of someone else than their own. Silly as shit, if you ask me. If you don't want to play with your own coochie-coo, why should a man?

I play my whole body like it's a trivia game. What's the strongest part of a woman's body? Her tongue. What are the most sensitive parts of a woman's body? Her tits and clit. Where does a woman like a man to insert a finger during sex? In her ass. What's a woman's favorite sexual position? Doggy-style. What parts of a woman's body should be sucked and licked on during foreplay? All of them bad boys.

When it comes to sucking dick, move over, 'cause there's a new sheriff in town. I can just picture a big juicy dick in front of my face right now. Slobbering all over it, making those slurping sounds, teasing it around the tip just before I deep-throat the whole thing, bouncing my head up and down as I catch a good rhythm, licking and gently sucking on the nutsack,
swallowing every last drop of cum. Ummm, damn, makes my pussy ache just thinking about it.

There have been several mad fuckers in my life, starting way back in high school with Ryan. I remember one Thanksgiving, he invited me over his parents' house for dinner. After dinner was over, everyone except the two of us went downstairs to the family room to watch a football game.

Ryan and I were supposed to be cleaning off the table and washing the dishes, but we got sidetracked. Ryan took me off guard by forcing me up onto the dining room table and sitting in the chair between my legs. He pushed my panties to the side and starting fucking me with a roasted turkey leg. After he fucked me with it, he ate it down to the bone.

Ordinarily, the notion of being screwed with a greasy-ass turkey leg would be unappealing to me, but the fact his family was just a split-level away cheering for their respective football teams to win turned my ass on. That was the first sign I was kind of out there.

Then I started a scrapbook in high school where I kept everything from nude photos of myself and some of my menz to a male pubic hair collection. I even had a collection of used condoms with the guys' names written beside them in the book. My friends thought I was a true freak, and they were right.

There were other signs as well, omens so to speak, of what I would be like as I got older. I used to wear teddies under jackets to school with no shirt and flash the boys. My sex education teacher made me go to the principal's office for bringing a small vial of Ryan's sperm to class as a visual aid for my project on the reproductive system.

I was so desperate to go to a sold-out Prince concert one time that I bet these two guys I could sit on their dicks without making a noise in exchange for a pair of tickets. I couldn't sit
on their dicks without making that dick-slapping-against-the-pussy-walls noise, but I fucked them both big-time and they gave up the tickets anyway.

Yeah, I was a bit out there in high school, but that's what growing up is all about. My senior year in high school was the year I discovered watching others having sex was just as big, if not bigger, a turn-on as doing the nasty myself. I'm quite the voyeur.

Camcorders were not popular back in the day. When I couldn't actually witness the act, I would ask my gurls to audiotape their sexual escapades for me so I could cop a listen. My gurls were wild also, but nowhere near as off da hook as me.

Four of us had a female singing group. We called ourselves Rough, Ready, Sexy, and Steady. We used to prance around in my gurl Winnie's living room after school in lingerie, singing everything from Teena Marie to Vanity 6.

When I got to college, my sexual rebellion really took off. Freshman year, I joined the sweetheart court for one of the fraternities on campus. Once again, another year brought with it yet another revelation. My freshman year, I discovered I like trains, and I don't mean Amtrak. The only thing better than one good dick is ten good dicks. The more the merrier!

I used to have men wait in my gurl Cherise's dorm room, down the hall from mine until it was their turn. One day I had so many men waiting to hit this, some had to wait out in the hall. Hell, I even had my manager from the fast-food restaurant, a married man, up in that bitch. It's all good, though. Often times, married dick is the best dick of all.

Don't turn your nose up at me because I fuck other women's husbands. I never took vows with and promised to love, honor, and respect no damn body. I can tell you this much. I'm the woman your mother warned you about. Don't let me in
your house, because if he's fine, I
will
take your man. If I borrow a pair of shoes, your best bet is to make me throw them bad boys out the window of my car at 50 mph, 'cause if you let me in, I'm leaving with more than some 9 West pumps. And don't let your man have some of that turn-your-ass-out-Alabama-black-snake-make-a-pussy-scream-out-his-daddy's-name-dick. Forget about it! I'm going to fuck his ass every day, married or not. Well, at least I'm honest. Most women will just go behind your back and do it. I'm telling you my plans straight up.

Am I a freak? Hell, yeah! Do I care what you think about me? Hell, no! You can kiss my black ass. As long as there's a breath in my body and I can spread my legs, I'm gonna get some dick.

My favorite mad fucker of all time was Sutton. Sutton was this dude I met at the house party of all mutha-fuckin' house parties. A friend of mine, Faye, was house-sitting for a wealthy couple in the upper-crust part of town. The house was the bomb. It had eight bedrooms, a circular living room, and a full staff of servants. It also had both indoor and outdoor swimming pools.

There were a good hundred people at the bash Faye threw, the food was slamming, and the bars were stocked with enough liquor to fuck everyone up. I had on a black hoochie dress covering up my black thong bikini. Yes, I did say hoochie dress.
Hoochie
happens to be my middle name.

Anyway, I was in the basement level, chillin' with some of the peeps around the indoor pool. The pool had a water-level brick bar going along one entire side of it. There was also a sitting area with a leather sectional sofa and bearskin rug in front of a huge fireplace with a roaring fire.

I was sitting on the sofa, tore the hell up, listening to the kicking-ass music coming from the speaker system wired into the walls. Some girl was trying to talk me into letting her eat me out, and to be honest, I was about ready to take a walk on
the wild side. I hear a woman can eat pussy just as good, if not better, than a man. Sutton walked up behind us and eavesdropped on our conversation.

He stated his objection. “Ladies, no need for all that. It would be my pleasure to devour both of you!”

“That's what I'm talking about!” I was quick to reply because he was definitely my type of I-don't-give-a-flying-fuck-what-you-think man. “I get to go first, though. Bet?”

The other girl got mad. Apparently, she was strictly about the nana and didn't want a man doing shit for her. She got up and walked away, cussing under her breath. Didn't faze me one bit, since that meant more tongue action for me.

After thoroughly checking Sutton out from the top of his slick, bald head to his bulge to his satiny smooth skin, I was ready to get busy. He was about six feet even, built and F-I-O-N-E. The bald head just did my ass in, though, 'cause that's my weakness. He was wearing a pair of swimming trunks and nothing else, which suited me just fine.

I was ready for him to dig right in and start eating me like the fabulous and delicious feast I am. Instead, he took me off guard. “Let's take a swim!” With that, he left me on the sofa, walked away, and jumped into the pool. The way he squeezed his nose and yelled out before he jumped in reminded me of little boys jumping off a wooden pier at a lake.

I decided what the hell. Following a good dick around is a small price to pay for hellified sex. So I seductively got up from the couch and pulled my dress up over my head as I switched toward the pool. My little show was not only for Sutton's benefit but also for the other men in the room to witness. For a hoochie like me, every move I make is carefully planned out to be sexy, and my entire life is a masquerade.

I continued my little show by sitting on the edge of the
pool with my revealing thong bikini on and splashing the water around with my perfectly manicured toes. I used my hand to fling my hair back over my shoulder, and all eyes were on me 'cause I got it like that.

Sutton was over by the pool bar. I got all the way in the pool and swam across it with the grace of a swan. He was ordering a drink from whoever was standing in as bartender at that moment. The guy behind the bar appeared to be drunker than everyone else put together. Sutton ordered a rum and Coke and asked me what I wanted. I told the truth: “I want you!”

Our eyes met, and he started blushing. I turned toward the bar and asked for a frozen strawberry daiquiri. I made sure to ask for an orange slice and cherry, so I could show off my oral skills, and boy, did I. While Sutton was watching, I took the cherry, arched my neck back, and slowly dipped it into my mouth, sticking my long, pink tongue out to meet it. Then I chewed it seductively, just the way I perfected it when I practiced at home on a regular basis. I followed the cherry up with the big finale, the orange slice. I took the orange slice and put it in my mouth, letting the rind fill out the entire outline of my lips, and then sucked on it and whispered, “Yummy!”

It was time for my pitch. “I wonder if anything on you tastes as yummy.” My eyes were locked on his dick like a missile locked on an enemy fighter jet.

He was still blushing. “Well, there's only one way to find out!”

I kept my head down, but flashed my eyes up at his. “Ummm, do tell!”

Sutton took me by the hand. We carried our drinks along the ledge on the wall of the pool until we got to one of the corners. I pressed my back into the contour of the corner, sat my drink on the tiled floor surrounding the pool, and propped
my elbows on the edge of the pool so my breasts would look even more enticing than they already are.

He put his hands around my waist after setting his drink down also. “Now, what's all this shit you've been talking, missy? I bet you're all talk and no action, just like all the rest.”

I took one of my hands, placed it in the water, and started rubbing his dick through his swimming trunks. “Try me!”

The pool had at least twenty people in it and another dozen or so standing around, who all ended up getting an added treat when Sutton and I turned the house party into a live sex show.

As our kisses began, Sutton picked me up, and I locked my lengthy legs around his waist. He wasted no time untying the skimpy top of my bikini, removing it, and letting it float away on top of the chlorinated water. I leaned my shoulders back as his head moved down to discover the sweetness of my dark, hard pearls. While he was sucking my nipples, I noticed the same girl who had offered to eat me out standing on the other side of the pool, glaring at us. Thank goodness looks can't kill, or I would be one dead hoochie.