The Pleasure Trap (2 page)

The cable box said it was after ten.

Graham frowned as he opened the bedroom door to check if his father was sleeping on the couch.

“You love this good pussy, don't you, Ty?”

Graham froze at the sound of the whispered words floating toward him from the living room. One of the lamps on an end table dimly lighted the room, just enough to cast a glow on the two bodies on the couch. One straddling the other. One curvier than the other. One moving against the other.

“Give me that good pussy,” he heard his father whisper back.

Graham stood transfixed in the hall just inches from the entrance to the living room, looking on as some woman he couldn't place gripped the back of the couch as she glided her hips back and forth. She leaned back, and the move thrust her breasts up with her hard nipples almost pointed to the ceiling.

His dick hardened in a rush. He couldn't move. He couldn't look away.

He didn't want to.

His father moved his hands from where they gripped her buttocks to palm her breasts and then stroke her nipples with his thumbs.

She gasped hotly before she moaned.

“Damn, you can ride a dick,” Tylar said, leaning over a bit to watch the back-and-forth motion of her hips.

She sat up straighter and then shifted her body easily to press her feet into the sofa as she squatted above him to slowly move her hips in a tight circle as she sat atop the tip.

“Mo-ther-
fuck
-er,” Tylar groaned in sweet agony as his legs shot out straight with his uniform pants and boxers still gathered around the top of his boots.

She laughed and licked her lips as she rose onto her toes and began vibrating her ass up and down with the speed and intensity of a power driver.

Graham's eyes and mouth widened.
Look at that chick go
.

“That's the nut drainer,” she said, looking down into Tylar's face before licking hotly at his open mouth.

Suddenly her eyes darted up and locked on Graham where he stood with his dick hard as jail time.

His body became tense with alarm as he stepped back, expecting her to scream out in surprise or shock—or something.

But she didn't.

Her smile was devilish as she leaned forward and pressed a thick brown nipple into his father's mouth, keeping her eyes locked on Graham. “I love dick-dick-dick-dick-dick,” she said huskily as she continued to ride his father and then lifted a finger to beckon Graham forward from the darkness.

But he didn't move. Excitement had his heart racing and his dick throbbing at a crazy pace as she caused the blood to rush through his body.

“Dick-dick-dick-dick-dick,” she said, uncurling her tongue to wickedly flicker the tip of it as she continued to stare in Graham's direction.

He knew she could still see him and she wanted him to see her.

Graham swallowed over a lump in his throat, his hand going down to wrap around his aching erection.
Damn.

“Your pussy getting hotter,” Tylar moaned against her fleshy breast.

“I wonder why,” she said, smiling at Graham over his father's shoulder as she pressed his face against her body.

Graham felt out of breath. Hot. Bothered. Horny. Needing to nut. Needing to nut so badly. He panted as he reached inside his shorts to free his dick as he watched her watching him as she rode his father harder.

Tylar broke his head free of her grip. “This dick gone cum,” he said thickly.

“Cum for me,” she ordered them both softly, her fingers digging deeply into the softness of the couch.

Graham locked his knees and bit his mouth to keep from crying out as he felt the first surge of cum fill the line. He jacked his dick harder and nearly broke the skin beneath his lip as he bit down to keep from hollering out at the exact moment that his father's cries of passion roughly filled the air.

Never once did she break her gaze on him even as she soon let out short, high-pitched shrieks as she found her own release.

“Shh,” Tylar whispered. “You gone wake my son.”

She just smiled weakly and blew said son a kiss.

Graham's heart was pounding as he backed into the bedroom with his hand and dick wet and sticky with his release. He eased the door closed with his shoulder before he snatched his T-shirt off with his free hand and quickly cleaned himself with it.

He had barely dropped the shirt to the floor and lain on the bed before the door opened. Closing his eyes, he feigned sleep.

“Did we wake him?” she whispered.

“No,” his father answered.

At the sound of her voice, Graham's gut clenched. He was glad when the door closed and he was alone. As he rolled over onto his stomach, the nervous anxiety clashed with his after-nut glow. He couldn't believe what he'd just experienced, and any shame he could possibly feel for being a peeping—and jacking off—Tom were barely noticeable.

Essie

 

 

G
raham hitched the wide black straps of his Nike backpack higher on his shoulders as he strolled up the block toward their apartment building. It was late morning and everything was relatively quiet for a summer day. He figured the majority of their neighbors were working or sleeping—something he would've been doing if he hadn't hit the streets early to hunt for a job.

He hoped the four applications he'd filled out and the one interview he'd had that day turned into something. His mama used to give him a weekly allowance. Unless it was a necessity, the only paper his father was giving out was the want ads.

Jogging up the brick steps of the duplex, he paused when the front door opened and Essie Nunez leaned her frame against the doorjamb. She didn't say a word even as she leveled her wide-set eyes on him and gave him a knowing smile. The same knowing smile she'd given him since the night he watched
her
sex his father and she watched
him
jack off.

Graham's gut instantly clenched as if in a reflex to an oncoming punch. He felt nervous in her presence. Nervous and out of sorts. He fought between a desire to rush past her so fast that he knocked her over, or to turn to run back down the stairs and up the street away from that smile.

Essie was well into her thirties—if not older—but had the type of body and wardrobe that made teenage girls seem boyish. From her messy topknot down to the crimson polish on her toes, everything spoke of being sexy and knowing it.

Unable to deny himself, he flicked his gaze over everything from her juicy gloss-covered lips to a red tube top that did nothing to hide hard nipples in the center of large, pendulous breasts. Her middle was a little soft from the three kids she'd borne, but even the slight muffin top over the top of her cutoff shorts looked inviting to him. And those shorts exposed her thick thighs, and her plump pussy pressed against the seat like a fist.

Essie was thick, maybe even thicker than a lot of men's taste, but Graham had seen firsthand that she knew how to move every bit of her pounds with ease. Lots and lots of ease. He licked his lips and glanced away at the hot memory of her shifting from a sitting to a squatting position.

When he looked back at her with his eyes squinted against the summer sun, she hadn't moved from her spot blocking the doorway. She gave him that knowing smile again as she reached inside her tube top to pull a soft pack of Newport cigarettes and a lighter from her cleavage. She pressed a cigarette between her glossy red lips.

I wish it was my dick in her mouth
.

It jumped to life like it agreed.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, taking the last two steps up onto the wide porch to stand before her.

Essie took a deep inhale on the cigarette, causing her breasts to rise high. “I asked your daddy to help me move some boxes down to the basement and he said to ask you,” she said, turning to press her back against the doorjamb to allow him to enter the apartment building. “You mind?”

Graham shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Good,” she said, giving him a slow once-over before pushing off the doorjamb and turning to enter the foyer.

Graham followed behind her, forcing his eyes not to dip down to take in the motion of her hips and buttocks as she made her way down the long hallway to her apartment. Essie was the resident babysitter/bootleg daycare for the block, and he could hear the noises of children grow louder as they neared her place.

She opened the door and Graham's eyes widened at the sight of kids of varying ages laid out on the floor staring at a cartoon on the flat-screen television. Eight set of eyes—including that of a one-year-old who was digging in his nose—all locked on him.

“ ‘Sup?”

Graham's eyes shifted to a dark-skinned, round-faced boy with eyes that were wide, serious, and as white as milk. “Whassup, li'l man?” he said before turning to follow where Essie disappeared through a door.

He stepped inside her bedroom. The scent of stale cigarettes and her perfume surrounded him as he quickly took in the unmade queen-sized bed, melted candles, and dozens of saucers stationed about the room with dried coffee and cigarette ashes in them.

It didn't feel right to be in her bedroom.

“In here,” she called.

He walked across the spacious room and came to a stop at the door leading into her bathroom. She was sitting on the edge of a claw-foot tub with her legs crossed as she lifted her chin to push out a stream of silver smoke through her pursed lips.

His eyes shifted about the small bathroom. “The boxes?” he reminded her gently when he didn't see any.

“Box,” she emphasized.

Graham frowned. “Huh?”

She smirked as she took another drag from her cigarette before dropping it into the open commode and rising to her now-bare feet. The hiss of the ember put out by the water echoed as she snatched her tube top down around her waist, exposing her breasts to him.

Graham's mouth fell open.
Titties. Big-ass titties.

She unbuttoned her shorts and eased them down over her hips to fall down around her ankles.

Graham nervously backed into the wall, knocking something off it and onto the floor.

BAM.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at a broken picture frame on the floor by his foot. He tried to bend to pick it up.

Essie stepped close to him and pressed a hand to his stomach.

Graham tried again to step back from her, but the wall resisted him. “Ms. Nunez—”

She swallowed the rest of his protests when she kissed him.

His eyes widened at the feel of her tongue easing between his open lips. The first feel of it made his heart pound. The soft, quick flicker of the tip against his made his dick hard in a rush.

She chuckled softly against his mouth. “Dick-dick-dick-dick,” she whispered, reaching quickly to stroke the length of him.

Graham gasped in shock and pleasure as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Dick-dick-dick-dick.”

Graham felt like he wanted to run—needed to run—but he couldn't. This was a woman his father had slept with, but that didn't matter. Nothing did except the feel of her lips and hand. His heart pounded. His thighs trembled. He felt light-headed.

She stopped kissing him.

Graham cried out when he opened his eyes just as she squatted before him.

He released a high-pitched squeal.

The bathroom door leading from the hall squeaked as it opened.

Shock replaced the pleasure in Graham's eyes as he looked down at the solemn and wide eyes of one of the little boys Essie babysat.

“Go watch TV, Esai,” she said gently to the boy over her shoulder, Graham's dick still in her hand.

Even as the boy turned and walked back out of the bathroom, politely closing the door behind himself, Graham tried to free his dick from Essie's grasp.

She looked up at him, her mouth still glistening wet from her neck game on him. “Don't worry about him. He mute. He couldn't tell nobody even if he wanted to.”

“I'm good, Ms. Nunez,” he said, forcing firmness to his voice as he pressed his palm to her forehead.

She licked her lips and looked at his dick—eye to eye—before shifting her gaze to look back up at him. “Oh, you're
real
good . . . and you'll be just as good as your daddy in a few more years. Keep drinking your milk,” she said, finally freeing his privates as she stood up.

As Graham fought to shove his hard penis back inside his shorts and boxers, he admitted to himself the regret and relief he felt.

Essie stepped inside the tub and then turned on the shower.

Graham stood there watching the soft sway of her body as she moved.

“I won't tell if you won't tell,” she said, reaching her hand out to beckon him to join her.

His eyes locked on the way the water from the showerhead splashed off her body.

That's what his head said.

That's what the harder head said.

“You know you want it,” she taunted. “Come and get this pussy, boy.”

He rushed out of his clothes feeling—and he was sure looking—awkward and lacking in experience.

All of that was about to change.

He reached behind him and turned the lock on the door leading into her bedroom.

 

 

Graham raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled the scent still clinging to his skin. He didn't want to ever wash his hand. The smell of Ms. Nunez was just too damn good to him. Everything about her was good to him.

Shaking his head in wonder, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he sat on the sofa not even paying attention to the television casting its lighting on his face.

“Why the hell you keep smiling like you crazy?”

Graham stopped grinning with a quickness as his father walked into the living room. “Something funny on TV,” he mumbled, feeling guilty.

“
Law & Order
?” his father asked.

Graham's eyes focused on the bloody crime scene on the television. He hadn't noticed it. Shrugging, he looked over his thin shoulder at his dad. “You going out?” he asked.

“Nah. Got a friend coming over for a li'l bit,” Tylar said, walking into the kitchen to pull a can of beer from the fridge.

“Who?” Graham asked, hating the thought of having to listen to his father sex Ms. Nunez again.
That would be awkward as hell.

Tylar frowned. “Since when do you care?”

Graham just shrugged and picked up the remote to flip through the channels. “You want me to bounce?” he asked.

“Nah,” Tylar said over his shoulder on his way back into his bedroom.

Graham dropped the remote not caring what show was on the television as he replayed in his mind finally losing his virginity. Again and again and again. A chill raced over his body as his cocky grin spread across his face again.
Way better than jacking off.

He couldn't believe it.

Damn
.

He was still lost in his memories of the feel, the smell, and the taste of pussy when the downstairs doorbell sounded. “I got it, Dad,” he called out, pulling on his semi-hardness as he rolled off the sofa and made his way to the front door of their apartment.

The system to buzz the downstairs door open was broken. Graham jogged down the stairs in his sock-covered feet. He paused on the steps at the sight of Ms. Nunez opening the front door to let in his father's date for the night.

“Thank you,” the woman he didn't recognize said as she eased past Ms. Nunez's unmoving figure.

“Who you here to see?” Ms. Nunez asked, her Spanish accent heavy.

The woman, a tall and slender cutie with an ultra-short pixie cut, looked taken aback. “Ty—”

“Thanks for letting her in for me,” Graham rushed to say, moving down the stairs quickly and drawing the eyes of both women. “Right up here.”

Ms. Nunez arched her brow even as she smiled slowly at him. She mumbled something in Spanish as the woman moved up the stairs.

“You're Tylar's son?” she asked.

Graham didn't bother to answer as he led her up the stairs. He was too busy hoping Ms. Nunez didn't flip and start some trouble before he could get them safely inside the apartment.

“Gra-ham,” she called up the stairs in a singsong fashion.

He kept it moving, pushing the door to the apartment open wide and stepping back to allow her in just as his father walked out of the bedroom.

“Hey, Missy,” his father said warmly.

“Hey you,” she said, biting her bottom lip as he pulled her close for a hug.

Graham rolled his eyes and closed the door.
Daddy keeps me in the middle of his drama.

As they made their way into the bedroom, he dropped back down onto his spot on the sofa.

“I got it,” he called out even though there was no way in hell his father was answering the phone while he had company over.

Turning the volume on the television down, Graham snatched up the cordless phone. At the sight of his mother's info on the Caller ID, he started not to answer. It had been a few days since they spoke on the phone, and twice he'd missed his weekend to stay with her. “Hello,” he said, already regretting his choice to talk to her.

“Well hello, stranger,” she said.

He lowered his head until his chin almost touched his chest. He heard the sadness in her voice and he felt guilty. He loved his mother and he didn't want to hurt her.
She just don't understand.

“So y'all phone
is
working?” Cara asked.

“Yes ma'am,” he said, rubbing his large, slender hand over his head. “What you doing, Ma?”