#illoriginal

It's a typical Atlanta Friday. Nothing glamorous. I took the day off to recover from an intense four days of negotiations and closing a major deal that blew out my quota for the quarter. I'm feeling like a Corporate Silverback- a beast in my career field- and things couldn't be going any better professionally. My girl is out of town and my weekend is free of responsibilities. Trying to figure out what I'm going to get into, I figured I'd straighten up the crib. Living such a washed up life to say the least.

We have this mutual friend named P. P is a stud who doesn't believe in not shooting her shot. If shooters shoot, nigga she's Kobe F. Jordan... the F standing for Fucking. P met a lady at the pool in our subdivision a few months back. I assume she was leaving from the neighbor's house and saw my car outside and decided to stop.

P came in, asked about my girl, and ended up on the couch with me while I was finishing folding clothes... the boring shit. We're shooting the shit and, never one to miss an opportunity to gloat, P says she was leaving from Pool Lady's house and noticed I was home. I took the bait and asked about her. Just like I figured, P wasted no time and spared no detail as she went on and on about how she ate her pussy until she came all over her face and how she fucked her with the strap. Typical nigga shit.

P is medium height, around 5'6", really petite, and has big titties but she wears a lot of baggy shit so it's hard to see her figure. I caught her sagging a few times, enough to notice she has a nice firm but round ass that she tries to hide. Listen, she's the homie BUT I still recognize her as a woman so her shape doesn't go unnoticed. All of that asside, the woman she met at the pool is taller and significantly thicker than P. I fucked with her by saying how that woman probably broke her in half and how she couldn't handle all of those curves on that woman. She kind of smirked and rolled her eyes. Seeing past my attempt to jab at her ego, she started flicking through channels on the TV and mumbled under her breath "I wish."

I had to pry a little bit and ask what she meant by that comment. She went on to explain how she always did all the work and how the woman was more of the pillow princess type and rarely returned the favor. She would never use the strap on P and just barely ate her out. Even getting fingered was just as rare. She was tired of being the woman's "little gay fetish" and wished she returned the favor sometimes. 

"Welcome to life as a nigga!" I replied.

She laughed but said niggas aren't any better.

"Bullshit." I told her how niggas love eating pussy and returning the favor and how women forget that. "My girl is gone for the weekend and left me backed up because she has been on her period all week. At least you got some. I'm over here, dick dry as fuck!"

We both got a good laugh and kind of let the conversation die on its own. No need to stir up something neither one of us was prepared to deal with.

I couldn't help but ask though, "what does my neighbor taste like?" I'd be lying if I said she didn't catch my attention that day at the pool. I could only sneak glances as my girl was at with me and P but I definitely remember this woman was stacked. She had to be around 5'11" or 6 feet. Her hair was styled in a pixie cut, black with strands of gray. She wore large framed glasses that hid her eyes but her lips were plump like she sucked the skin off her husband's dick. I seen him around a few times and could only wonder how they fuck he was able to keep, let alone bag, and stallion like that. She had huge double D cup breast that I could tell were natural. Her areola would spill from the cups of her bikini top causing her to adjust multiple times that day. She carried a little extra weight around her waist and visible stretch marks around her stomach, one could only assume were from pregnancy. Her hips spread and she carried the fattest ass that chewed up her bikini bottoms. They weren't thong bottoms but you wouldn't be able to tell if you weren't studying this woman like I was trying to. Even my girl made a couple comments in admiration for this woman's build. She was stacked with thick thighs, well pedicured toes and white toenail polish to tie it all together.

"She definitely takes care of herself," P said snapping me out of my daze. "She's always well put together, smells nice, and her skin is always smooth to the touch. She gets waxed regularly too."

"That explains it! She probably doesn't return the favor because you don't wax P!" I said half jokingly.

P fired back, "how you figure I don't wax my shit?"

"I just assumed Studs do what niggas do. Grab the clippers and trim that shit!" I said ignorantly.

"Nah nigga. I get my shit waxed too. My homegirl from high school do it and lick my shit clean when she done."

I lost it. Shit was hilarious! I told her I didn't believe her and to let me see.

"Nigga don't be weird."

I wasn't serious... just mildly curious.

Later that day, P and I decided to step out to find something to eat. We usually sit at the bar most places and talk shit. Louisiana Bistreaux was the move that night. P wanted to grab a shower before we left (typical P, making my house her home minus the bills and other household responsibilities). I needed to clean up as well. I had a remodeling project going on in the hallway bathroom so P had to use the shower in my room after I got done.

I could hear the shower running so I dropped my towel, sit on the edge of the bed and began lotioning my body. I thought I was in the clear since I assumed P was in the shower so I took the liberty to revisit the thoughts of my thick ass neighbor spread over my bed begging for me to dive in. I give my rock hard dick extra attention as I use the lotion to glide up and down my rigid pole as I thought about plunging inside my neighbor's plump, glistening pussy. Suddenly, the door swings open with P asking for a wash cloth. Fuck! I didn't expect her to open the door and sure she wasn't expecting to catch me on the bed, dick on hard sticking straight, and me stroking my shit! I know she caught me because she slammed the door and kept apologizing. I didn't really give a fuck. I had been horny all week and in need of a release. There was part of me that found this situation quite funny. I got up, grabbed her a wash cloth and towel, and took it to her in the nude and dick swanging. She called me crazy, took the towel, and closed the bathroom door in my face. I noticed her eyes never left my dick though. I also noticed she didn't lock the door.

I waited until I heard her get in the shower and start to wash off. I gave it a little more time until I figured she was almost done and walked I'm the bathroom. My shower is glass enclosed and I could make out her figure through the steam and water on the shower door. I was still naked and dick semi hard and she seen me approaching.

"Bro, what are you doing? Get out!"

"Come on P. You seen my shit already. Let me see yours."

"Nigga, what?"

"You said your girl hooks you up on the regular... let me see!"

P smacked her teeth, paused, then replied, "If I show you, you'll get out?"

"Only if you want me to," I said with a smirk, dick starting to stiffen.

As P opened the shower door, she propped her leg on the shower bench revealing a beautiful, slick, meaty pussy. Her lips were thick and full, one of her labia minora longer than the other, and her clit was huge. It came out from under her clit hood and it was a bright pink. It looked like the tip of someone's thumb. My dick throbbed as I watched her spread her pussy and run those same two fingers over her clit and through the trimmed bush of her landing strip before closing the shower door and commanding me to get out.

I felt intoxicated. All I could think about was wrapping my lips around her engorged clit and sucking it. Is this how women feel when they desire to suck a dick??? Fuck. I'm trippin!

Reluctantly, I got dressed and waited for P to get out of the bathroom. I threw on some light blue jeans, a white short sleeve button up, and sprayed my neck and wrist with Tom Ford Oud Wood. That's when P came emerged from the bathroom dressed in some black skinny fit men's jeans and a fitted black tee and gave me this weird look.

I made my way back into the bathroom to oil my beard while P hung out in the room. We sat in an awkward silence until I decided to break the ice.

"Ol' girl tripping if she seen that pussy and didn't want to eat it. Couldn't have been me!"

"The fuck you mean bro?"

"I'm just saying. The pussy you showed me would've gotten devoured. That clit looked too good to pass up."

"Man you trippin. Niggas can't eat pussy. Besides, women like it when I tell them to suck this dick since my clit big. You ain't ready for that lol."

I felt like she tried me with that one. "Pull that dick out then and let's see."

She paused for a minute, debating whether to make a move. She saw my eye contact didn't waiver so she stood up and pulled her pants down. She wasn't wearing any underwear and her clit was sticking out.

The silence was deafening.

"Yeah. All I see is a clit and a fat pussy that would get wrecked."

"Yeah right bro. Issa dick. Just like I figured, you ain't ready."

I turned to her, pulled my dick out and replied "THIS is a dick. That's a clit. And I'll suck it until you bust."

She tried to play it cool and pull her pants back up and I asked her what she was doing.

"Putting my pants back on because you bullshitting."

"Nah, leave them off and sit on the bed." My towel was still on the edge of the bed so she sat on it.

As I walked over to her, I told her to let me get a closer look. She spread her legs but was still sitting upright. As I approached, dick fully erect, I told her to take off her shirt and lay back. She laid there in front of me in a sports bra and her jeans bunched around her ankles. I got on my knees, removing each leg from her pants until shr just laid there in a sports bra as i slid my hands up her smooth legs.

"You want me to suck your dick?" I asked.

"Please."

For the first time, I heard P plead like a wanting little bitch in heat, needing a release. I slid my tongue between her lips and into her opening as far as it could go and pulled it out.

"Just like I thought, still a pussy."

She couldn't do shit but cover her face and question her decision. Before she could have a second thought, I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked hard while my tongue slid underneath and danced around her opening. She gasped and bucked. I grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed and onto my face while I inhaled her clit. I sucked it sloppily as her juices drenched my beard and slid down the crack of her ass. I took two finger and slid them inside her pussy and hooked her gspot and massaged it while she grinded on my face. My other hand reached up and freed her titties and pinched her nipples. I sucked her pussy like my air depended on it. Her pussy began to squeeze and pulse my fingers and I could tell she was about to cum. I kept my pressure on her clit and massaged her gspot harder until her body began to buck. She let out a wild scream and grabbed my head pulling me deeper into her pussy as she shook uncontrollably as wave after wave wrecked her body and she came nonstop all over my face. The side of the bed was a soaked mess and her body continued to spasm as each aftershock crashed her body. I wiped the wetness from her pussy and used it to stroke my dick while watching her come down from her climax. Before she could fully regain her composure, I rubbed the tip of my dick up the slit of her pussy and massaged it against her clit. I took off my shirt and began to play with my own nipples while rubbing my dick against her swollen clit.

"Our dicks feel good when they touch, don't they?" I asked with a devilish grin. My body and thoughts running on demon time.

She looked at me while biting her bottom lip and nodded her head. Her eyes began to roll to the back of her head as her head fell back to the bed and another orgasm crashed her body.

Grabbing her thighs so she wouldn't close them on me, I pulled her back to the edge of the bed. My dick slipped down and the bulb of my tip rest right at her openinging. She didn't do anything to stop me or move away so I slid my dick in as deep as her tight pussy would take me.

She screamed "oh fuck!" Her eyes shot open but she didn't tell me to stop or move away. I pulled out completely, giving her a split second to recover. I leaned over to give her delicious pussy a lick then realigned and dove in deeper.

"This is the dick ol' girl should've gave you with that strap on."

I grabbed her neck as I slammed into her aggressively, each thrust more violent than the last. She screamed "yes!" and grabbed my waist, pulling me closer. I fucked her tight pussy until she creamed all over my shaft. I played with her clit with my free hand while I filled her wanting hole, bringing her to another orgasm. I officially owned P's pussy in that moment.

I flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her, sliding deep inside her from the back. I hit a the bottom, right at her cervix, when I felt her legs kick. I breifly wondered if anyone had ever fucked her like this before. She was always the masculine one with all the women I seen her with. We referred to each other as bro and I always viewed and treated her as one of the guys. Yet, here I was fucking bro's pussy and loving every minute of it. There was even this dominant part of me that was insistent on showing her what it felt like to be a woman and under the control of a man. By this point, my ego was in control.

I pulled her locs and whispered in her ear "who got the dick now?"

"You do," she whimpered.

I pounded her pussy with hard, deep, slow strokes. She clawed the bed as I dug deep inside of her. As I bottomed on each down stroke, I could feel my balls slap against her swollen clit. As I continued to knock at the back of her pussy, grind at her cervix, and balls slam against her clit, she would cum again and again, squirting and soaking my bedding.

I leaned to her ear, nibbled on it, and told her "I love fucking this pussy, bro. You feel so fucking good. I know you feel me throbbing. You about to push me over the edge if you cum on my dick like that again."

I must have struck a nerve because I could feel her pulsing and rocking her hips back trying to meet my thrusts.

"oh fuck, I feel you P. You got a nigga so close!" I bottomed out and grinded my dick deep inside her pussy as I throbbed deep inside of her.

"Ohmygawd! I'm cumming daddy!!!" She screamed loudly as she began to cry in ecstasy as she trembled uncontrollably.

I couldn't hold it any more and moaned "fuck P! I cumming! I'm cummimg deep in this pussy! Oh fuck! I can't help it bro!"

I blasted P's insides and came rope after rope of hot cum deep inside her pussy. It brought P to another orgasm and she crashed flat onto the bed, limp and exhausted. I held my dick deep inside her pussy until every drop was well spent inside her pussy, no regard for the consequences. When I was fully drained, I rolled off and laid next to P for a moment. In that moment, I saw P as a person wanting and deserving of pleasure and I fortunate to be the one to give it to her. Bro or not and sexual orientation aside, all that mattered in that moment was giving the body what it craved... actually, what it deserved.

I rolled over to quench my body's thirst for your presence. As if from muscle memory, my body would contour your every curve. While offering my right right arm for you to lay your head on like a pillow, I'd make you feel secure in my warmth. Before wrapping my left arm around you, firmly coming across your chest yet letting my fingertips lightly dance across your collarbone- priming it to be kissed, I planned on brushing your locs from the back of your neck to let my lips start at the nape, making it the starting point for the marathon my tongue was prepared to run. Being pressed against you, you could feel my heart beat in two places: one against your back with sinew being the only boundaries between your heart and mine and the other, well, my body's reaction to my dream of you... there being a more immediate, physical desire for you. See, before being consumed with the day's list of demands and the stress of our daily grind, this was my plan for you... maybe stay in and play hooky for the day or at least put some things on pause to make time for us. Regardless of what we decided, I hoped to show you a good morning while whispering the same in your ear. When I rolled over though, your presence was just my imagination as the sheets on this king sized bed had a major void. So this is my way of texting you, telling you

I am completely addicted to you. I’m forever amazed by the depth of your strength, hypnotized by your melanin’s radiance, and become drunk off your magic. You are my heroine and your absence sends me through withdrawal worse than heroin. To shake it, I distance myself from you, similar to twelve steps. Just when I’ve fooled myself into believing I’m rehabilitated, I relapse. “Hey stranger” texts remind me of the void you once filled and my body fiends for you. We play the “just catching up” game like pros, filled with sexual undertones and innuendos, the equivalent of prepping 10cc. Your nectar is forbidden, illegal, yet I drink freely. Fuck prohibition. Bound under your influence, I’m hopeless. Shabari knots leave me helpless like forearms tied off with shoestrings. I humbly offer you this main vein and the ride that comes with it. Upon penetration, we get lifted. I feel you and I’m high. Nothing else matters but you when I’m trapped under your spell. More than a guilty pleasure, I rummage this haze to find the distinction between love and lust. Under your grasp is where you’ll find me; between your thighs I find God effortlessly and She speaks to me encouraging me to go deeper. I swear your sex is dope - straight drop - and the only cut is when I’m cutting. Each experience is an amazing trip filled with ecstasy. I get blowed and highly elevated off your vibrations as our surroundings turn into our Kingdom of Kush. Before I can come down, I’m already yearning for round two. It’s not a secret that you have me hooked.

I think of you. I think of how we were perfect for each other at the wrong time. I think of how, at those rare but special moments when I was with you, the world stopped… who I would be if our paths crossed earlier in life and we could be everything for each other that we truly wanted to be… what never going a day without making love to you would feel like. I think of that feeling of knowing I complete you… not settling for being the bar for other men to come along and try to meet, but being your man that our children outlined their standard of manhood.

I still think about you. I still think about the sweet taste of cherry gloss coating your passionate kiss, the electricity as our tongues danced, and the subtle pull as I nibbled on your lips then offered you mine. I still think about every curve and how I traversed them, each scar and how I appreciated them, and any blemish and how I cherished them. I still think about how you offered your yoniverse to me and I worshipped there, satisfied my hunger within the folds, and quenched my thirst with each drop. Within your womb, we built a home there. With each time I entered, you kept a fire burning. For every time I came home, your entrance had a way of never letting me leave.

I spoke about you in code to a friend today…

We talked about vices and he found it interesting that, after college days, years of working, and managing real world/grown up shit, I still didn’t drink or smoke.  I told him my high is good music and my Digga.  He asked what a “digga” was and I had to keep from explaining how you’re my dear and my nigga.  My dream girl in the flesh, you are.  My nigga on those days when you go from oolong to Crown Royal.  Instead, I told him how you’re this pen I love to write with.  He looked at me puzzled, his confusion heightened by the Remy he had been drinking.  I explained how the ergonomics, meaning the contours of your shape, make you fit perfectly in my hands.  I find inspiration to write when you’re near.  With every stroke, it’s like making love.  As the inspiration flows and the pen strokes increase, I push harder and deeper to get across my point.  If I’m the hand and you’re the pen, these white sheets must be the paper that we cover effortlessly with excretions of sweat and ink.  Sometimes I tap this pen, other times I just hold it and get lost on paper and in time.  Time stops and I dream.  I dream until dreams become words, words become strokes, and we write again.  A beautiful dance of hand and pen that so easily mimics those of woman and man.  If art imitates life, our love making is just that: art and life.

The homie told me I definitely need a woman.