Page 25 of Good As Hell

“Uh-uh, lil’ mama,” shaking my head smiling a little because that is exactly what she is — my lil’ mama. “Seems like you need a little help remembering how we made our son, jameela.”

“Nah, I’m good. He’s here now,” she shrugs, clutching her purple notebook between her arms and luscious breasts like it will protect her or some shit like that.

She’s rooted to the spot as I stroll lazily over to where she stands beside the overstuffed queen bed I had dressed in the colors she favors, pink and purple.

She has on a nearly diaphanous lounge set that’s popular among the ladies of our set when they lounge at home. It flows yet still manages to huge every supple curve. The material dips in at her waist, revealing a little stripe of her skin where she has a diamond belly ring. That wasn’t there before and I’m envious I haven’t seen it until now. What other changes have I missed in her body besides the obvious one of her blossoming with my child? I resolve to plant my seed in her again. This time I won’t miss a moment.

Her breath flutters against my skin. I notice the pulse fluttering like the delicate beat of a hummingbird’s wings at her throat.

“You said you could barely remember,” I tease, plucking the notebook out of her hand, and placing it on the nightstand behind her. I hear a soft hitch when my shoulder brushes her left breast as I lean past her to toss it on the side table.

“See, I can’t have that now can I — my woman saying she can’t remember my loving,” I tsk, shaking my head. Reaching forward, I stroke her cheek. Her skin is as smooth as I remember. “Kisses forgotten?” Thumb sliding over plumb luscious lips, I groan, thinking of how they felt against mine. How they felt wrapped around my dick.

Just thinking about how she sucked me deep down her hot little throat has my come pearling at the head of my length.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” Taking her lips, catching her gasp, I cover her, consuming every inch of her mouth. I devour. Unbelievably, beautifully, she yields. She tastes like the morning tea of mint. Mouth wet, I know her pussy’s wetter. She tastes like mine. She is. Soon she will have no choice but to remember everything we do because if it takes every day of the rest of our lives I will remind her to whom she belongs.

For all her denials, she didn’t hesitate to kiss me back. In fact, she gets on her tip toes, pressing her plump little body against mine.

Pulling back, allowing a small smile to spread across my face, I look down in to those luminous brown pools filled with desire.

“I-I’m not your woman,” she stutters, the umber flush stealing across her cheekbones, screaming her deception. Her fists are balled tightly, trying to hide her need.

Ignoring her lie, I duck my head, taking the nipple pressing against the fabric into my mouth. I suck deep, pulling the harden little nub deep into my mouth. Once the material is saturated, I lean back to look at my handy work. Now her fingers spasmodically grip my arms, telling me everything I need to know. I dive back down, taking the other nipple, sucking, tasting. Sweet nectar meets my tongue. My dick throbs almost to bursting. I suck more, trying to draw more out to taste.

“Fuck, you taste even better than before. My son made you ever more delicious. I bet that pussy is just as good.” Glancing up, I notice she’s biting those lovely lips so hard she’s drawing blood.

“Uh-uh, we’re not hurting ourselves.” Tugging her lip free, I cover her mouth with mine, sucking away the hurt.

A soft moan escapes her, still she doesn’t move, doesn’t say stop. Her eyes say it all. She wants this. Tomorrow may be different, but right now she wants what only I can give.

More than happy to oblige if for no other reason than to prove to myself that night was not a figment of my imagination, I kneel.

“Little liar.” She’s drenched for me. Pulling back, I meet her pensive gaze. “My woman is wet for me.”

“N—” the lie dies on her tongue as I dip mine between her pussy lips. I won’t tolerate any more lies between us. The piquant pleasure of her taste is a delectable bouquet on my tongue. Inhaling, I take in the scent and the taste of her. I could taste her pussy all day. My dick kicks when she tilts those bountiful hips, pushing her pussy into my mouth.

“Hell yeah, give me that motherfucker, lil’ mama.” I growl, gripping her juicy ass, drawing her further into my mouth. I need more. Have to get more and I can’t get at her like I want through the material of the lounge pants thin as they are.

Setting back on my hunches, I stare at the fat ass pussy print pressing against the material. Fuck if I don’t want to take a picture just so I can occasionally look at it throughout the day.

“Let me see this pretty ass pussy you’re teasing me with.” Reaching her waist, I tug the material down, helping her step out of the pants.

Returning, I notice the scar peaking out beneath the curve of her soft tummy.

“What’s this?” I trace the slightly raised tissue just above her pubic bone.

She stills. Her hand comes to rest beside mine. “It’s from the C-section. Dr. Muhammad said Ayaan was too big to fit through my cervix.”

Something twists in my heart as her words register.

Leaning forward, I kiss the place she’s covering, pressing my lips against her hand. With a gentle pressure, I move her hand away so I can lay kisses along the line of her belly.

“Thank you so much for giving me a son, jameela,” I whisper up into her guarded expression. “You won’t have to go through anything alone again.”

She must believe me because her hands touch my curls with a reverence I’ve never felt from another.

“You deserve to be worshipped. Will you let me?”

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