Chapter 4 9 Inch Red Bottoms (Husband)

He could not see past the piss all over me and I did not care because I could not see past his tongue deep inside me. He tried to walk away, and I grabbed his hips and shoved his dick in my hot mouth, pulling on the shaft like I was some forgotten verse in Psalms and the green pastures in my titties wanted to relocate into my clit and build a city of wet walls sliding on his decadent chocolate until the milky way.

He seemed bothered. "Baby, this is nasty. You smell like piss."

I slurped loud enough for him to hear. I did not want piss on me either, but when your man put you on dick punishment for absolutely no reason then something had to give.

I was on fire. "Tell me to stop pleasuring you, big daddy."

He tried too, but his voice failed him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he grabbed my hand, putting it on his ass. I pulled away from his stick, held it up and hummed on his balls while my tongue smoothed over his well-cut pubic hairs. He died from my touch.

He had to hold the counter. Putting him back in my slick mouth, he gyrated along my tongue, and I smiled, huge globs of spit trailing to the floor. He was getting rough. Oh, Yea. Let the beast out you anal retentive motherfucker!

"Rub my ass, baby," he said possessively, grabbing my weave with those thick fingers. His head leaning back, he pumped my mouth like he was pumping gas.

I had to spice it up.

"Oh, yea, Daddy!"

Expertly, I pulled his dick out of my mouth and shook it like a Frisbee. "You have a hot stick, baby..."

I beat myself in the face with his beef stick, moaning like his little dirty whore. He was getting even more excited. "Want me to put it back in my mouth?" I asked him.

He smiled big. "Fuck yea!"

Fuck yea! But he's a Christian, right? I didn't know Christians had potty mouths! I put it back in my mouth, tossing my weave all over the place like I partied like a rock star. My nipples erect, he was playing with them through the pissy lace. Being honest, smelling his piss turned me the fuck on. Maybe he should give me Golden Showers on the regular. I would not mind. Just as long as he did not shit on me then we're straight.

"Put your finger in my ass," he said, and I put both my hands in his boxers, with his dick still deep in my mouth. My fingers went on the hunt, and when they found his warm opening, they went crazy. I was finger fucking him, making his legs buckle. I think he was gay, but I didn't care because he supplied our home with key essential things and he was a good father so if he liked it in the ass, that was his problem. At least he was being kinky with his loving wife. Just as long as I didn't find out, then we were cool.

"Oh, God, baby! Fuck me! Damn! I'm about to cum!"

Oh, No, Mister!!!

If I couldn't come, then fuck you.

You couldn't either...

4:49 a.m.

Faking a yawn, I pushed him into the tub and turned on the cold shower. It splashed all over him, sending him into shock.

His dick lost its erection instantly. Wide-eyed, he stammered, "What the fuck!"

"But you're Christian, right?" I asked, my hand on my hip. I needed a gahdamn cigarette.

"I am!"

"Yea, right! You haven't made love to me in ages, yet when I ask for some head you bring up religion. Where was God when I finger fucked you in the ass?"

"Baby!"

He was trying to stand up.

I turned the shower knob up higher, and water blasted him back on his back, his pants clinging to his skin.

I turned on my heel. "Good night!"

He protested. "But..."

I looked over my shoulder, tossing my hair behind my head.

"I just fucked you in the butt. Good night!"

And I slammed the door behind me.

A Month Later. 11 p.m.

My name was Been It, and I want a man In It. Let's be real. I loved dick just as much as I loved money. One could not exist without the other, in my opinion. If I didn't have any money, I was a feisty bitch. I would buy a leather mask, shake these huge breasts at the Crib Strip Joint on U.S.1 in the Dirty South, Goulds, Florida the Forgotten City, and put this pussy in a man's face if he was forking over that fast green paper. And I was not talking about construction paper either, bitches. Fuck your plastic toys and porn shops. I didn't look like a blow-up doll on sale for $459.95 and I wasn't Jenna Jameson.

I was a stone-cold freak and I loved dick. Fuck me, talk dirty to me and drop some bills on my nightstand and voilà: take your ass home. Frankly, I was a blunt bitch. And I really didn't care who gave a hoot or not. Men were games to be conquered, and as long as their tongues played Chutes and Ladders with my pussy and clit then all was fair in the game of war. I didn't get these crazy bitches as of late. They wanted a man but wasn't willing to use the pussy to keep one. If your man wanted you to spit on his dick, jack it like a man who couldn't afford toys for his son's Christmas festivities and you declined every single time, then you will lose the man because, and it was quite simple, if you did not do anything to keep him then another bitch lay in the wings, waiting for Icarus to fall from the sun so she could step up and cuff him. And I was that bitch.

It was cuffing season, ladies and gentlemen. I needed extra holiday money so I wouldn't have to tap into my lavish income from my nine to five.

I would take your man, fuck your man, and make him come on my pretty face or my ample bosom. Then I would rub my sweet juices in his face and send his ass home to his Mama, sister or wife, whichever one applied. I wanted Kept Men. Men who wasn't getting it at home.

Because I wasn't getting it at home.

Sucking a Kept Dick opened the door for some serious cash flow to keep you under wraps. I did not mind being a man's best kept secret. Since my body was his Best Laid Plan, why the hell not? Just buy me some outfits, give me some money, dress me up Like I was Madonna on the Sticky and Sweet Tour and you had my loyalty forever. Until you pissed me off.

Since I was overly freaky, I will leave my name out of this. Because I had a career and a husband.

But since family life became boring, my children were practical and predictable. My sons were into girls, so I let their father handle the birds and the bees. I had my own life. My entire life wasn't all about my family. I had to do something outside of my household. Doing that made me realize something: I was a woman who liked to occasionally get fucked in the ass without being slut shamed. Every time I asked my husband he laughed in my face and told me to take a yoga class. That really hurt my feelings. I fulfilled his every fantasy, even fingering him in the ass when I gave him head because he claimed it made him cum harder and I never judged him or called him gay for it.

Why couldn't he fulfill my fantasies? Was marriage the final destination? Did he expect me to stay barefooted and pregnant? Maybe I should have listened to Eartha Kitt and laughed at him when he asked me to compromise. Men slept with tons of women all the time and received a free pass. Why when a woman took control of her urges we had to be seen as hoes with no class? Nonetheless, since my husband said it was nasty and degrading, I tip toed past my bedroom when he was sleeping, and I hopped in my car. Clad in my Hoochie mama lingerie, black trench coat 9-inch red bottoms.

On a secret mission, I drove halfway across town.