You're the One I Want (26 page)

“Now see, you keep that up, and you will be surprised where flattery will get you.”

Amir wiped the bar with a white hand towel. His smile alone was already making my lavender Victoria's Secret panties wet. I took a sip from my watermelon martini to cool myself down.

“Amir, that's an interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Originally from Hollywood, Florida, but my father is Pakistani and my mother is black. They moved to Florida when I was five. I moved up here to study law at Florida A & M University.”

Just as I was losing myself in Amir's cinnamon-brown eyes, three loud-ass hoochies strolled up at the other end of the bar.

“Hello, bartender,” one of them yelled.

“Barkeep,” hollered another, the three of them laughing like three ugly hyenas.

“We are in need of some libations down here.”

They were three of the most trifling skanks I had ever laid my eyes on. Humph, ladies was the last thing that came to mind looking at these hood rats.

“What Dumpster did they slither out of?”

One of them had weave that had all the colors of the rainbow.
All three of them wore skin-tight pencil dresses. There was only one store in Tallahassee that sold those hooker ensembles they were dressed in: Diamondaire's over on South Adams Street where Church's Chicken used to be. Street walker couture, I call it.

“I'll be back. Let me go take care of these ladies,” Amir said.

“Hurry back,” I said before taking a sip of my fruity martini.

I felt like poor Amir was about to wander into a den of man-hungry lionesses. One of the hoochies was plump, wearing a short blond wig and bronze lipstick. Who the hell wears bronze lipstick? Obviously this heifer. Who in the world told her she was cute? The other one reminded me of Halle Berry from that movie
B.A.P.S
with this synthetic monstrosity on her head. She was wearing white lipstick, looking like she had just bit into a powdered doughnut. Of course, they were the loudest bitches in the club. Once the DJ put on Nicky da B, you couldn't hold them back from hitting the dance floor. They were out there, shaking their asses so hard, I thought something was going to drop out. They thought they looked cute, but came off looking like corny-ass skanks. I couldn't keep my eyes off Amir, his coffee bean-brown skin glistening under white strobe lights. I could tell he had dick for days. He noticed that I was running low and made his way back down to my end of the bar.

“You want another one?”

“Absolutely.”

Amir took my empty glass and started making me another watermelon martini.

“I'm glad you came out of that unscathed.”

“Who? Oh, them? It's cool. They come here just about every weekend. I'm used to them.”

“Yes, but why would you ever want to get used to…that?” I studied them with pity on my face.

“You're a funny lady, Tangela.”

“Are they your type?”

“Not really, no. I'm more into someone from the human species.”

“Yeah, I could tell they weren't your type.”

Amir finished off my watermelon with a cherry and set it in front of me. He grinned, showing those pretty white teeth. “And what type do you think I'm into? Girls are cool, but I like a woman, you feel me? A lady who has herself together. Someone like you.” Damn, Amir was laying it on thick. Peanut butter, crunchy style.

I let loose a flirtatious laugh. “What makes you think I have it together?”

“I could tell how you slinked in here. You're a woman who knows what she wants and, what you don't have, you're not scared to get out here and take it. Am I right?”

I traced the rim of my martini glass with my finger. “True. True.”

“Yeah, see. That's what's up. I know these things.”

“Look, brother, I'm not going to lie. You're a good-looking man.”

“Thank you.”

“But you ought to be on the cover of magazines instead of working in this shit hole-in-the-wall.”

“Well, thank you, I'm flattered.”

“What exactly is your type?” I asked.

“Someone with brains.”

“That's me.”

“A lady who knows what she wants.”

“That's me.”

“And someone who likes to live a little on the wild side.”

“Oh, that is most definitely me right there.”

“A lady who knows who she is.”

“Um, hello, here I am.” I pointed at myself. “Look no further.”

“You're funny. I haven't stopped laughing since you walked in here.”

“That's a good sign then.”

Amir stood in front of me, drying some glasses. “Of what?”

“That it's likely that I might take you home tonight and fuck your brains out.”

Amir chuckled. “Damn, ma, you don't pull any punches, do you?”

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“It's like you said. A lady who knows what she wants.”

“And that's me.”

“And, yeah, my going home with you is pretty likely.”

“Well, let's do this then. What time do you get off?”

“In about forty-five minutes.”

“Good. Let's get out of here,” I said.

“The bartender who's here to relieve me just walked in,” Amir said.

My pussy was dripping to the thought of Amir between my chunky, chocolate thighs. It felt good, knowing that I didn't have to compete with Bree. Back in the day, she already would have had someone like Amir cornered, deep-throating him in the supply closet. I wouldn't have stood a chance. I didn't want to drink too much. I didn't want Amir to think that I was some drunk-ass lush before the night even started. I was ready to leave. The club was getting thick and DJ Master Blaster's techno was taking a toll on my nerves. The shit that was going on in the club was the last thing I was thinking about, being that my libido was going into four-wheel overdrive. If I didn't get some dick soon, my pussy was going to shrivel up and fall out. I'd always believed that a pussy can't survive without a steady diet of dick. I loved Kashawn, but I got tired of holding out, hoping for a booty call from his Bree-whipped ass. And I loved my vibrator, but nothing beat the real thing, and tonight, some real dick was exactly what I was going to get.

T
he club was thick with bodies filling every corner of the dance floor to the point where you could barely move. Amir made his way toward me through the crowd of people dancing, drinking, and smoking. He was wearing a black tank top and black jeans.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Lead the way.”

Amir took my hand into his, leading me past the schools of people toward the exit.

“Hey, where are you going?” one of the hood rats asked, tugging at Amir's arm. They rolled their eyes, mean-mugging me when they saw that he had made his choice for tonight of who he wanted to be with. They were hating on me hard. If they had heat ray vision, they would have burned a hole clean through me.

“My wife and I have to get home. I think we left the iron on,” Amir joked.

“You married?” the one with the bronze lipstick asked loudly, hooking her hand on her side.

“Happily,” he said, gripping my hand.

I snickered at the element of surprise that ran across their faces like the cheap, Walmart makeup that caked their ugly mugs. As we walked hand in hand out of the club, I glanced over my left shoulder at the thirsty bitches and winked. They sucked their teeth and sneered.

All is not always fair, girls,
I thought.

“So you want to follow me back to my place?” I asked.

“Girl, I would follow you anywhere. I'm parked over here in the black Mountaineer.”

“This is me right here.”

“I'll be right behind you.”

I pushed my SUV as fast as I could back to my house, careful not to get stopped by the cops. They're always out, looking to catch drunk drivers. By the time I was done with Amir, I would have him speaking in tongues once I threw this pussy down on him. He pulled up behind me in my driveway.

“This is nice.”

I tucked my clutch under my arm as we made our way to the front door. “It isn't much, but this little box of sanity is mine.”

“So what kind of work do you do, if you don't mind my asking?”

Amir's question forced me to pull a lie out of my ass that would impress him. “I own my own salon over on South Monroe. Slick Cuts.” I pressed a key into the gold-plated lock and opened the door.

“I know it. My sister goes there to get her hair done. That's a pretty high-end salon.”

“You didn't know. It's only the best hair salon in Tallahassee.”

As soon as we stepped in, Amir felt on my booty. I threw my clutch on the sofa and turned around to face him. This brother wasted no time pulling me into those massive muscle-bound arms of his, grabbing me like I was some prize he won. I wanted to be controlled tonight, taken over. We started kissing. Amir shoved his tongue into my mouth, but I didn't give a damn. I ran my hand down to his crotch where the biggest bulge tented those tight black jeans. I began fighting with his belt, pulling it loose. I had problems with the clasp. Amir undid his jeans without any effort and unzipped. The imprint of his dick stretched the tight, white cotton of his
drawers. I yanked the black denim down around his firm thighs.

Fuck yeah.

“Damn, Tangela,” he moaned as I traced his dick with my fingers.

A spot of sticky pre-cum soaked through the cotton. I used my tongue to lap it up. This was about to be some straight-up, freak-nasty shit. I had teased his young ass enough. I hooked my fingers over the elastic waistband of his underwear and pulled until Amir's dick popped free from its cotton cocoon as if it had been held prisoner, aching to be released. It was nine inches, maybe ten, from what I could tell. Amir's dick was circumcised with a single pencil-thick vein running along the top of the shaft. The crown of his piece was a caramel-sweet hue with a teardrop piss slit. His Brazil nut-size balls hung like earrings.

Damn,
I thought.

A brother this fine, I don't know why I was surprised by his endowment. I looked up at Amir as I started licking the tip of his dick, as I roped my juicy, cherry-red lips around the fat tip. I gently started to suck him, taking inch after Mandingo inch as I slid down his battering ram. I played with his balls, caressing them with two middle fingers. I pictured Kashawn's face in the place of Amir's as I slurped on his dick. I devoured him until I had his entire dick in my mouth, the tip of it banging against my tonsils.

“You keep on, and I'm gonna nut.”

I slowly pulled off his dick that was dripping wet with spit. He had another thing coming if he thought he was going to nut without satisfying my hungry pussy.

I got up off my knees. “Let's continue this in my bedroom.”

With his dick hanging limp but hard over the waistband of his drawers, I led Amir up the stairs to my bedroom. You could have set your watch in the time it took for us to get out of our clothes. Amir couldn't cut his eyes away from my breasts. I probably was
the finest bitch that had ever stood in front of him. We were both butt-booty naked. His dick was throbbing like it was breathing. As we made out, I could feel Amir's dick pressing hot and erect against my thighs. Amir moved down to my breasts, tongue-tickling my nipples, sucking them past his lips. I pulled this gorgeous half-black, half-Pakistani man onto the bed with me, his dick mashing against the pink lips of my pussy. Amir kept at my breasts, sucking crazy like he was trying to suck milk out of my breasts. I rolled on top of him. He moaned when I slid his dick in easy. He held onto my ass like handlebars as I rode his dick as if it was a Harley-Davidson between my robust thighs. I worked him steady, his dick stretching my sugar walls.

“Shit, girl,” he moaned under his breath.

Amir felt good as hell inside me. Before I could blink, he rolled me over, switching positions. He took my legs and pinned them atop his shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Tear it up, deep-dick this pussy.”

That night, Amir fucked me every which way: on my back, on my side, on my hands and knees, laying some Barnum & Bailey, acrobatic kind of fucking on me. The sound of the bed springs echoed throughout the bedroom.

“Damn, this is some good pussy.”

It turns me on when men talk dirty. “Take it. This pussy's yours.”

I grabbed his ass with both hands, holding onto his double-chocolate, bubble booty tight. Each time I shut my eyes, Kashawn appeared, smiling down at me as he twisted me out. Bree didn't deserve a man as good as him. It should be me. It always should have been me in that big house, sharing his bed, driving expensive cars, covered in furs, drenched in jewels from head to toenail. Amir flipped me over on my stomach, pulling my ass to his dick soaked with my juices. I thought to object when I felt the tip of his dick
at my booty hole. I wasn't too experienced in getting fucked up the ass. It wasn't my favorite sexual position, but I didn't mind it so much. A hole was a hole. I fisted the pillows over the slight discomfort that lasted for a few seconds. I was good once Amir slipped his dick in my butt.

The last man who took me from the back was Tyrique. It happened a few nights before Bree and Kashawn's wedding. I never told a soul, not even Bree. Tallahassee is microscopic, and people around here can't hold water. That's why Tyrique was always throwing shade whenever he saw me, thinking that I was going to tell his wife. I didn't find out that he was Kashawn's friend until I saw him standing alongside Kashawn at the altar as the best man. And I was literally sitting behind Ebonya at the wedding. As far as I'm concerned, we both got what we wanted.

“Damn, I'm about to pop.”

“Do it. I want to feel your juices inside me.”

“Are you on the pill?”