Single Husbands (18 page)

“Man, you need to stop lying to yourself,” Lexington said. “You cheat on Michelle just as much as I do on Donna.”

“I keep telling you, I never signed up for fidelity. That word is not in my wedding vows. I’ve never been monogamous and don’t
plan on starting now. The difference between us,” Brian said, “is you’re fucking playing Russian roulette, dicking-down Herschel’s
wife on the regular. There’s too much pussy out here, man. Stick with the sex clubs, if that’s your thing, but stop fucking
Nikki.”

There was no way Brian would fuck his neighbors’ or any of his boys’ wives. That was the type of foolishness that made people
homicidal and suicidal, then plead temporary insanity.

“Man, Nikki was my first piece of pussy, my first virgin, and my first love. No way I’ma stop making love to her. Besides,
if Herschel was handling his business, I wouldn’t have to keep Nikki happy. He should thank me.”

A person’s judgment could easily be altered if all they remembered was the immediate gratification they’d get from having
things their way. What about the long-term effects? That’s what Brian kept clear, at all times. No piece of ass was worth
his cash or his marriage. Pussy was free and plentiful, he hoped… thinking about Zahra.

“What about keeping Donna happy?” Brian asked. “Damn, man, spend some quality time with your wife and kids. Even if you don’t
want to have sex with her, take your family out.”

“Fuck Donna. She brought this shit on herself. I work too fucking hard to provide for her, for her to disrespect me in my
own damn house. I was done with Donna years ago. You’re the one in denial. Fucking around on Michelle. Now, Michelle is a
good woman. If I were married to your wife, I’d be faithful.”

Whateva.
Lexington must’ve forgotten whom he was talking to. Lexington could try to convince somebody else of that bullshit, but Brian
had known Lexington since they were in kindergarten when Lexington kept two or three girlfriends, and Nikki was one of them.
That’s why she never married his ass. Throughout their entire relationship in high school and college, Nikki was number-one,
but Lexington always had a number-two and a number-three chick on the side.

“Yeah, nigga, you’d be faithful. Just like me. I gotta go—this
badd,
big-booty Latina just walked into the bar. She’s got on a slightly see-through top. You should see her pretty titties, man.
Her hard nipples just made my dick hard. And she’s got that ‘I know I’m all that’ happy strut going on. I’ma be all up in
that ass before the end of the night,” Brian said.

Lexington replied, “You gon’ fuck the wrong chick in the ass and end up like ole boy when she go running off to the hospital
on your ass.”

“Man, unlike other fools ramming their dick in a woman’s ass, I’m a professional anal penetrator. I know how to hit that G-spot
from the ass and make women come in a way they didn’t know they could come. They like that shit when you hit it just right.
Besides, fucking these women in the ass assures me I will not have any woman trying to contact me, talking about she’s having
my baby.”

“Shit, you really think those chicks can’t find your ass once you’re gone?” Lexington asked.

Confidently Brian answered, “Got that right. That’s why I call them from a calling card, never my cell. I never give them
my phone number, e-mail, nothing where they can track my ass down. I don’t even give them my real name.”

“Yeah, yeah. Here we go with that shit again. Go on with all that Brother Malik bullshit,” Lexington said, laughing.

“Keep ’em guessing, man.” Kicking in his African accent, Brian said, “They believe I’m from Africa and in the Nation. I give
them as much misleading information as possible, and if you were smart, you would too. Stop fucking Nikki, man. Peace,” Brian
said, ending his call with Lexington.

Brian’s mouth watered and his tongue hardened as he watched the Latina woman hoist her booty in the air to sit on the bar
stool. Her pear-shaped ass was so nice. She smiled at him, then swung her long, dark, wavy hair behind her shoulders. She
leaned toward the bartender and opened her mouth.

Brian interrupted. With his African accent, he said, “Let me get that for you,” moving to occupy the empty stool beside her.
Damn, she smelled tasty.

Her mesmerizing brown eyes darted from his dick to his lips. “But you have no idea what I want,” she said, with the most amazing
smile. Her breath smelled fresh and refreshing at the same time, making him want to grab the back of her head, pull her lips
into his mouth, and tongue kiss her so he could taste what she tasted.

His offer wasn’t about what she wanted. It was all about what he wanted. Brian mentally undressed her, imagining her pussy
was smoothly waxed. The hairs between her butt cheeks were waxed too. Her asshole was silky soft and tight. Her shaft was
nice and short and her pussy was sweet and juicy.

The woman rubbed her leg against his underneath the bar table, then eased her hand up his thigh to his dick and said, “I’ll
have a slow screw with Goose.”

His dick throbbed in the palm of her hand.

She was so damn cute—with sparkles on her arms and enticing, kissable lips. She had a wide mouth he wanted to stick his dick
in, and her small waist made him want to hold her sides and bounce her pussy on his dick right at the bar. If no one was watching,
he’d fuck her right now. She smelled like a bouquet of roses. Grazing her tongue over her upper lip, pausing the tip of her
tongue in the corner of her mouth, she smiled, then circled her finger atop the glass that the bartender had poured her drink
into. His dick got harder.

“So, are you staying at this hotel?” she asked.

“Are you?”

She nodded, then smiled again. Her teeth were white; her tongue nice, clean, and pink. Her mouth was so fucking inviting.
“I’m Carmelita. I’m here for three days. Room 1018. You?”

“My flight leaves early in the morning,” he lied. “I’m staying downtown on West Michigan,” he lied again. His hotel was near
O’Hare International Airport.

Brian refused to give her accurate information. Definitely not enough info for her to track him down after he’d tapped her
ass. Oh, he was determined to get into her hotel room tonight.

“Married?” she asked, sticking the tip of her tongue inside the rim of her glass, scooping out the cherry.

Brian shook his head and smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Malik. Brother Malik,” Brian said.

“Well, Malik, if you’d like, we can take another round of drinks and this conversation to my room for a nightcap.”

Hell yes! “Ten-eighteen,” Brian repeated, motioning to the bartender for another round of drinks.

“Bring the drinks and that big-ass African dick to my room, will you?” she seductively asked, standing and putting her titties
in front of his mouth before he could answer.

With so many beautiful women walking around with succulent pussies, there was no way Brian could keep his dick and tongue
away from all of them. Michelle’s pussy was his favorite, but throughout his marriage, he had to taste other women in order
to appreciate his wife. Actually, he’d never stop fucking other women. What was the point?

Brian waited for his soon-to-be titty-flopping, ass-bouncing date for the night to step onto the elevator before adjusting
his Bluetooth over his ear and dialing Michelle’s cell phone. When she answered, he said, “I miss you, baby. How’d your meeting
go?”

“It went well. I’m so tired. Just made it home. I got off the phone with my mother a few minutes ago. The kids are asleep,
so I didn’t get to say good night to them. Did you talk with them?”

“No, I called you first. Why are they at your mother’s house?” he asked quizzically.

“She is their grandmother too. Your mom keeps them all the time. My mom is giving her a break. I’m too exhausted and sleepy
for you to make love to me over the phone, though I really, really want you to talk dirty to me and make me come.” Michelle
exhaled. “I’m about to shower and call it a night. How was your day, baby? Did you remember to take your vitamins?” she asked.

Watching the bartender set both drinks on the counter, Brian said, “Baby, hold on just a second while I take this call right
quick. It’s Lexington.”

Touching the mute button, Brian glanced at the forty-eight-dollar tab, handed the bartender $60, then said, “I’m good. The
rest is for you.”

“Where’d your date go?” he asked in an overfriendly tone.

Defensively Brian answered, “She’s not my date.”

“No need to get defensive with me. Aren’t you—”

“No, I’m not,” Brian spit out between his teeth, realizing he’d dropped his accent when he called his wife.

“You sure look like . . .” the bartender said, snapping his fingers and squinting his eyes. “What happened to the accent you
had a few minutes ago when you were talking to that hottie?”

Picking up the tray, Brian moved to a table far away from the bar, near the elevator. The Latina pussy that got on the elevator
and went upstairs should be showered, fresh, clean, and waiting for him to fellate with his tongue. Pressing the mute button
again, Brian said, “Baby, sorry about that. You know how long-winded Lexington can be.”

“I don’t like the way he treats Donna,” Michelle protested. “She could do a lot better, you know. I think I’m going to ask
Nikki to bake Donna some of her special brownies and sprinkle them with extra lovemaking chocolate and we can take them to
Donna this weekend and tell her to feed them to Lexington. I’m not condoning her cheating on him. She should try to work things
out, but if her husband isn’t treating her right, she needs to get with a man who’s going to treat her the way she deserves
to be treated. And if that man isn’t her husband, she needs to divorce him.”

“Baby, you are tired. Michelle, do not call Donna or Nikki. Stay out of it. They’re not the problem, or
our
problem. Donna knows what she signed up for.”

“Baby, I just want you to know if you ever treat me the way Lexington disrespects Donna, I’ll divorce you in a hot second.
I know exactly how to handle infidelity. Don’t ever let me find you cheating. It’s the blatant disrespect and pathological
lying that I wouldn’t accept. I’m glad you’re just as faithful to me, baby, as I am to you too.”

Wrinkles formed across Brian’s forehead. Silence settled between them. He knew Michelle was prompting him for confirmation
that he was faithful. “Baby, don’t go there. I’m happily married and I want us to be happy for a hundred-plus years. Let’s
not make their issue ours.”

The elevator door opened and the Latina woman who was supposed to be in room 1018 waiting for him stepped off, wearing blue
low-rise jeans, a tapered T-shirt clinging to her breasts, and sexy silver slip-on stilettos. Brian placed his finger over
his lips, signaling for the woman to be quiet. Plopping her irresistible ass in the chair next to him, she picked up her drink
and began sipping.

“That’s Lexington calling again. Let me call you in the morning. Good night,” Brian said, picking up his phone and ending
the call without responding after his wife had professed her love for him.

Smiling, Carmelita looked into his eyes, then said, “You are a very good liar, Malik. I’m going to spank you for being a naughty,
naughty man.”

Brian could hardly wait to fuck the shit out of Carmelita. He’d call his wife later, letting her know he accidentally pressed
the end call button before saying, “I love you too, baby.”

It didn’t take much to keep Michelle or any woman happy. Respect. Love. Affection. Investing quality time. And always keeping
family first. These were the basics to his healthy and happy relationship. Most men fucked up because they didn’t respect
or show appreciation for their wives. Brian felt bad about abruptly ending the call with his wife, but he was glad Michelle
wasn’t the type of wife that would relentlessly call him back until he answered the phone.

“Now I see what took you so long,” his fine-ass Latina woman said.

The freshness of her body lured him closer as he sipped on his martini.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, put on something sexier, and, I promise you, I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

“Your English is
ver-ry
good, Brother Malik,” she said, holding on to her drink.

Watching her walk away, Brian began having second thoughts about fucking Carmelita, but the arch in the thong hovering the
V above her ass persuaded him to hit it fast and furious.

Damn, that’s a nice ass,
Brian thought, quickly finishing his drink. Soon as the elevator door closed, he called Michelle back to say, “The call ended
before I could tell you, ‘I love you, baby.’ Now go back to sleep.”

Ending the call, Brian made his way to the elevator. Exiting on the tenth floor, he tapped on 1018, hoping she’d had enough
time to change into something sexy for him, but praying she still had on that thong. Brian wanted that thong and the ass in
it spread across his face.

She opened the door and his jaw dropped witnessing the prettiest set of perfect breasts he’d ever seen. And all she was wearing
was that black thong and a black beaded necklace.

“Get in here before somebody else sees me,” she said, closing the door behind him.

“Damn, you look hot! I can’t believe you’re not married,” Brian said, unbuckling his pants. His hard dick sprang forward.

“I never
said
I wasn’t married,” she said, kneeling before him and sucking his dick.

Brian moaned, “Aw, yes.” Whatever her marital status was didn’t matter to him, and the way she was sucking his balls, it obviously
didn’t matter to her either.

“Take off your shirt and relax. I want to show you something. I have a little fetish,” she said, reaching into her oversized
purse, with
Who’s Loving You
embroidered in gold on the front.

Women were far more promiscuous than men.

She pulled out a giant watermelon Blow Pop, slowly unwrapped it, then stuck it in his mouth. How did she know watermelon was
his favorite? He preferred watermelon Now and Later candies, but a watermelon Blow Pop was just as tasty.