Page 66 of Man Swappers

“I will. You enjoy yours as well.”

As soon as I hang up, the phone rings again. I answer on the third ring. “Paradise Boutique, how can I help you?”

“You can help me by going away with me,” the deep, baritone voice says.

I smile. “And why should I do that?”

He laughs. “’Cause I can’t stop thinkin’ ’bout ya sexy ass. You’ve become my love drug.”

I laugh as well. “Oh, okay, Raheem DeVaughn. What you gonna do now, sing?”

He keeps laughing. “Yo, if that’s what it’s gonna take to get a yes, then hell yeah.” He starts singing.

“Oh, nooooooo,” I say, laughing. “Please don’t.”

“Am I gonna get a yes?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Yo, you killin’ me, ma. You got me sprung.”

“Oh, please,” I say, laughing. “You don’t even know me. And you probably say that to all the girls.”

“Nah, I ain’t that dude. I keep shit a hunnid, ma. I don’t know you, know you, but what I know so far, I’m diggin’. And I wanna get to know you better. But, I tell you what. We can hold off on going away—for now, if you come chill wit’ me down in Atlantic City for the night.”

“I’m flattered,” I say, smiling. “But—”

“No ‘but’, ma. So wassup? Spend one day wit’ me, and let’s see what happens. If you ain’t feelin’ me after that...cool. We part ways and go on ’bout our business.”

“How ’bout you part my cunt lips with your tongue,” I hear myself saying, feeling a rush of heat searing through me as I replay our night together. Blood rushes to my clit. I close my eyes. Feel his fingers on the curve of my hips, pulling my pussy deeper into his mouth, burying his tongue in between my soft, sticky folds. I’m horny. And I want to fuck him again.

“I tell you what. Come lick my pussy.”

He laughs. “Yo, you wildin’, ma.”

“I’m not laughing,” I tell him low and sexy. “I don’t have on any panties.”

“Yo, don’t tease me, ma,” he says in a throaty whisper.

I smile. There is definitely a lot of sexual chemistry between the two of us. But more than that, I really am starting to like him. “I’m not. Does it sound like I’m teasing? I wanna feel your tongue. Don’t you wanna taste this pussy, again?”

“Hell, yeah I do. I wanna get all up in that shit. You got my dick hard as steel right now.”

I moan. “Mmmm...I like the sound of that. The store closes at six. Bring me that hard-ass dick, and that long tongue.”

“I’ll be there at five-fifty-nine.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I say before disconnecting.

Porsha

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I’m naked standing in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection. Jaguar Wright’s “Do Your Worst” is playing on my Bose stereo. I sway a bit as I oil my body. Do your worst...but damn it...make sure it’s your best... I grab the remote from off the dresser and raise the volume. I part my thighs, massaging my clit. I work myself up to an orgasm, then stop when I feel myself on the brink of coming. I walk into the bathroom to retrieve my bottle of Wet, then squirt some all over my Luna Pleasure Beads. I slip the weighted balls into my pussy, then slide on a pair of black spandex shorts and a matching tank top. While I’m out getting my two-mile run on, I’ll be working my pussy muscles out as well. I love the feeling of those tiny vibrations rippling through my pussy as my feet hit the pavement. My walls milk these balls, trying to keep them from slipping out. Thirty minutes a day and this pussy stays extra tight.

I step into my Nikes, humming along to Jaguar as she sings the shit out of this song. I don’t understand...how I can I tell you what it takes to make me happy...and for some reason whyyyy... you only seem to do what makes me crazy....

Persia walks in, wearing a pair of pink short-shorts and a white tank top. Her dark nipples are showing through her shirt. “You off to the gym?”

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