Single Husbands (19 page)

Trying to impress her, he sucked it, pretending it was her clit as he fluttered his tongue on the top of the sucker. He couldn’t
wait to roll the sucker over her clit, then pop her clit in his mouth. He watched her ease the sucker out of his mouth, lick
it all over, and then put it back in his mouth.

“I enjoy sharing,” she said.

She dug into her purse, pulled out a small bottle of baby oil, and began massaging her titties. She teased her nipples. Lying
on the bed, she said, “Stand in front of me. I want you to watch me play with my pussy, baby.”

Spreading her labia, she dripped oil onto her shaft, her stomach, and her thighs. Rubbing the oil all over her body, she used
both hands to open her pretty pussy nice and wide. Sucking the Blow Pop, he lusted to lick her protruding clit.

Brian started stroking his dick as he watched her shaft swell. Never had his body been so fucking hot from watching a woman
play with herself. He wanted to explode all over her pussy.

Toying with her necklace, she unhooked the small gadget that was attached and pressed a tiny black button at the top three
times. “Come. Feel this,” she said, dropping the short black weiner-shaped attachment in his hand.

“What the hell?” Brian said as the gadget vibrated in his palm. He felt the pulsation throughout his entire body.

“Give it to me. That’s my handy bullet. I never leave home without one,” she said, strumming the tip along the side of her
slippery shaft.

Brian’s heart pounded fast, thumping against his chest. Anxiously, he wanted in on the action as she rotated the bullet on
the tip of her clit.

“Ah, ah, ou, yes, ah, I’m coming,” she said, humping her hips upward toward the bullet.

Damn, that was fast,
Brian thought, feeling he was going to come equally as fast inside her ass in less than one minute.

“Now that my pussy is all wet, it’s time for you to get down to business and satisfy me,” she said. “Five hundred.”

Brian frowned. “Five hundred what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You wanna come or what?” she asked.

She eased off the bed and took his dick out of his hand. Slowly sliding his erection into her mouth, she asked, “Like what
you’ve seen so far?”

Brian sighed heavily.

Taking the sucker out of his mouth, she placed it in hers, then reached into her purse again. She pulled out three gold condom
packets and a small blue packet of WET lube. She held the sucker in her mouth while opening the condom. Squeezing a few drops
of lube inside the condom, she rolled the latex onto his rock-hard dick, then feverishly kissed his sticky lips, like they’d
met someplace before.

“You don’t have to say a word,” she whispered in his ear. “Just put the money on the chair beside the bed and I’ll do the
rest.” Crawling onto the mattress, she glanced over her shoulder. Softening her eyes, she squirted baby oil on her ass, smoothed
the oil over her butt, then asked, “You ready to fuck me in my big, beautiful, lovable ass?”

Brian had never directly paid for pussy. Obviously, this woman was a prostitute, or one smart, beautiful lady. If he left,
she could cry rape, and although there’d be no evidence, his wife would find out about him being with another woman. If he
paid, he might get arrested. He’d take his chances on getting laid. Reluctantly he counted out 5 one-hundred-dollar bills,
then crawled onto the bed behind her. Her asshole was nicely lubed and wide open. Moving her thong aside, he stuck his dickhead
in.

“Aw, fuck,” he moaned, leaning his head back.

He groped her oily ass. And what a pretty ass she had. He stroked a little deeper.

“Ah, yes. Take your time, baby, or you can bang this pussy real hard if you want to. I like whatever you like,” she said,
slapping her own ass.

She didn’t have to offer it rough twice. He did want to fuck her hard. Grabbing her hair, Brian slid his dick all the way
in her ass, pounding her ass. She slammed her ass onto his dick.

“Ou, yeah. Um. Yes. You’re making my pussy so wet,” she moaned, reaching for her bullet.

Turning on her gadget, she pressed it against her clit until she came really hard. Then she reached back with one hand, pulled
his dick out of her ass, stroked it tight, then put it back in. She massaged his balls with the vibrator, making him come
before he realized the condom was gone and he wasn’t in her ass. He had exploded a full load inside her pussy.

Coming, Brian yelled, “Aw, fuck!” He was in too deep to stop the flow of his cum. By the time he pulled his dick out of her
pussy, he was drained and pissed off. “What the fuck happened here?”

Looking over her shoulder, frowning, she asked, “What? What’s wrong, baby? Didn’t you like it? Didn’t you come?”

“You know damn well I came! Why did you take off the fucking condom and stick my dick in your pussy?”

She started shaking her head. Tears flooded her face. “No, no.” She inserted her finger inside her ass, pulled out the condom,
and started crying harder. “My husband is going to kill us if I’m pregnant,” she cried. “You gotta give me another five hundred
dollars for an abortion.”

“
Us? Husband? Pregnant? Abortion?
What the fuck are you talking about?” Brian asked, putting on his clothes.

Walking over to the chair to pick up his $500, he glanced at the notepad on the nightstand beside the bed, looked away, then
back again. “What the fuck!” How did Carmelita know his wife’s name and cell phone number?

“I’ll be damned. Bitch, you’re trying to set me up?”

Carmelita smiled up at him. “Make that ten thousand, or should I call and ask Michelle?”

L
ove. Lust. Lies.

Herschel stood outside his lover’s bedroom door. They’d shared their beachfront condo almost as many years as he’d been married
to Nikki. At the condo, Herschel spent quality time making love to Anthony, resonating in their moments of being away from
their wives. Away from a world filled with judgmental people. Away from those who wouldn’t try or care to understand how two
men could genuinely love one another.

What difference did it make if a man sexed a male or female? Human companionship came in many forms. To Herschel, both men
and women looked and felt great. Both were aesthetically and intellectually stimulating. Front door, back door, pussy, asshole,
mouth—his erect penis penetrated exactly where his lovers craved.

The mental connections between Nikki, Ivory, and Anthony vastly differed. The orgasmic outcomes produced by the emotional
attachment to each of them created the same explosive reactions from his nuts. Contrary to what some women believed, bisexual
men were emotionally and physically attracted to one another. Herschel loved Anthony. The depths that two men related to one
another was magnified times ten in comparison to the minuscule level of communication men had with women.

Attitude. Ranting. Crying. Making up their minds before the dyad ever began. Most women never genuinely tried to understand
the inner struggle of their men. The women who thought they knew their men well probably drew reactionary insight from how
the man treated her, not from how he’d felt about her or himself. Every man fought internally with how society viewed him,
shielding all vulnerabilities that could strip away his manhood. Herschel shouldn’t have married a woman like Nikki, who’d
spit gasoline on his flaming insecurities with her careless, lethal tongue. Anthony had never degraded him the way Nikki had.

Opening his bedroom door, Anthony said, “How long you been standing there? Come in here, man.” As he reached inside his cotton
boxers, and adjusted his limp dick, Anthony commented, “You look a hot mess. You’re not living right. You need to decide which
family you want to be associated with.”

Why?
Herschel thought.

“You hungry?” Anthony asked. “I can whip you up something to eat.”

“No, I don’t have an appetite for food, but thanks.” Herschel motioned for Anthony to come into their living room, then replied,
“Stop acting like you’re one hundred percent gay. You know you’re not divorcing your wife either.”

“Please, I haven’t touched hers or any other woman’s pussy in years,” Anthony countered. “I have a marriage of convenience,
’cause I love living on The Island and neither one of us wants to downgrade our lifestyles. She does her thing and I do mine.
You know that. You’re the one who is still fucking Nikki once a month and your baby mama every time you feel like controlling
somebody,” Anthony exclaimed, massaging Herschel’s shoulders. “Relax. I know what you’re going through. Once I accepted the
fact that I’m gay, I stopped pretending, and met you. You need to do the same so we can move forward.”

Herschel slouched on the black leather sectional in their living room. Anthony stood behind him and continued massaging his
neck and shoulders. Herschel stretched his neck left, then right.

“You know what it would take for me to get Nikki to give me a massage?”

“A handwritten demand note from God cemented on stone like the Ten Commandments,” Anthony said jokingly. “And even then, she
might take her chances on going to hell.”

Herschel didn’t share in Anthony’s laughter. “You think she hates me? Am I that bad of a person?” Herschel asked. He needed
answers to the multitude of questions plaguing him. Slowly he exhaled, figuring he’d go to his grave without understanding
his wife.

“Stop avoiding my question,” Anthony said, rubbing the nape of Herschel’s neck.

“I’m not avoiding choosing sides. That’s not it. I don’t need to choose if we’re going to be together or if I’m going to be
with my wife. I have intentions on leaving Nikki, but she’s the one who doesn’t want me to go,” Herschel lied, wondering why
Nikki hadn’t mentioned Anthony or Ivory again, then continued, “Besides, I don’t want to downgrade my lifestyle any more than
you do.”

Anthony dug his fingertips deeper, saying, “What about Ivory? What’s your excuse for still fucking her?” Walking over to the
entertainment center, he turned on the sports channel so they could watch the basketball pregame show.

“What about Ivory? I’m never going to marry her. She’s not the marrying kind,” Herschel said.

“And Nikki was?” Anthony said rhetorically, then asked, “Aren’t you considering moving in with Ivory?” Anthony stretched his
body across the floor in front of the television.

Herschel then lay on the floor beside Anthony, reclining in his arms. “Hell no. And live full-time with a gay kid? Never.
I’m cool with what Ivory and I have.”

Sliding from underneath Herschel, Anthony braced himself on his elbow, then stared down at Herschel in disbelief of what he’d
heard. “
A gay kid?
That’s your damn son, man. That’s your seed. So you’re lying to Ivory about being with her? You’re fucking confused. You
can’t accept Kwan, ’cause you haven’t accepted yourself,” Anthony said, sitting up and bracing his back against the sofa.

“I’m not gay.” Herschel sat up too. “I love Ivory in my special way, but she complains too much. I couldn’t deal with that
headache every day. She’d make me go off.” Herschel wanted to stand and pace the floor, but he continued sitting next to Anthony.

“Can you blame her for being upset? She’s not stupid. She probably senses something’s up with you, but she can’t imagine we—two
masculine-looking men—would be sexing each other crazy. She has no idea you come here to kick it with me the same way you
chill with her, except without all the drama. You invite me over to your place to hang and have sex whenever Nikki is gone.
Correction, whenever you want me to suck your dick and you don’t want to be alone.”

Herschel shook his head. “Stop. You don’t even know where you’re going with all of this nonsense. You’re all over the place.
That last part isn’t true, man, and you know it. Our shit is special. For real.”

“Then why can’t you tell me you love me?” Anthony asked, staring into Herschel’s eyes.

Herschel’s eyes drifted to the television. The truth was, Herschel didn’t want to love Anthony. Loving Anthony was too permanent.
Too gay. Just not right. Herschel was married. He had a mistress. A kid. Those were the people society dictated that he should
love, not Anthony.

Herschel glanced at Anthony. His eyes darted back to the television. His thoughts were scattered. He felt Anthony staring
at him. The silence made Herschel uncomfortable. Easing his hand onto Anthony’s thigh, Herschel said, “I do care about you.”
Herschel massaged inside Anthony’s thigh, inching his hand toward Anthony’s dick. Anthony’s erection sent a signal of approval.
A stiff dick was always in search of a hole.

“Lie down and let me make love to you,” Herschel said, sliding Anthony’s boxers over his butt. Anthony’s dick sprang forward.

Herschel took his time enjoying and exploring Anthony’s body as though it were their first time together, but he was searching
for signs of infidelity. Anthony had to have somebody on the side. Herschel’s fingers strummed over Anthony’s chest, down
to his abs. There was no need to rush the moment. They could catch the highlights of the basketball game at halftime.

His lips pressed against Anthony’s pubic hairs. Lowering his mouth over Anthony’s erection, Herschel extended his wet tongue,
then glazed his saliva from Anthony’s balls up his shaft to his head. He savored the slight saltiness that lingered in their
exchanging moisture.

Stroking his own dick, Herschel gripped Anthony’s dick, shoving the head deep into his throat until Herschel’s lips pressed
against his hand. Precum oozed from both of their dicks. “Stay right there,” Herschel insisted, unwrapping a condom. He slid
the condom over his dick, reached for the water-based lubrication, squirted it onto Anthony’s swollen erection, and began
massaging him.

Anthony exhaled. Herschel knew Anthony wanted to hear him say, “I love you,” but he couldn’t say it. Professing love during
sex was bad timing. Sex clouded judgment. Orgasms eclipsed reality.

Herschel smeared more lube over Anthony’s asshole, raised Anthony’s legs missionary-style, slowly penetrating him. Herschel
fucked Anthony hard, never raw. Their moments together were more than sexual; they were spiritual.