Page 48 of The Man Handler

“Hell, yeah,” he snapped. “I’m down.” He paused, sipping his drink. “Listen, you got condoms? ’Cause I ain’t ’bout bringing no shit home, feel me.”

I frowned. “I don’t fuck raw, baby. I got a whole box, especially for you.”

“Oh, word. Then that’s what it is.”

I smiled. “And so it shall be.”

So after another hour of back and forth, and two more rounds of drinks, he walked out behind me, then followed me home in his steel-grey Jag. The crazy thing is, I didn’t even know the nigga’s name, or give him mine, until after we were done. I simply told him what I wanted, and how I wanted it, and he was more than willing to oblige.

As soon as I got him in the house, I attacked him like a wild, dick-hungry ho-beast. Pushed his ass down on the sofa, unzipped his sagging jeans, fished down in his boxers, then unleashed his big, juicy dick with the reddish brown tip. I’m not going to lie, I was so damn relieved his dick was meaty. A little dick would have only been an appetizer for me, so I was more than happy when I saw he was packing. My mouth watered, and my panties got wet while looking at it. The shit was eight inches soft, and eleven inches hard. I know because I always pull out my ruler and measure the dick to know what I’m really working with. I like to jot down their measurements when they leave for future reference.

Anyway, I lowered my pussy onto his face, then leaned down and sucked him silly. It was all good the minute he stuck his tongue in my ass, licked my pussy and sucked on my clit until I couldn’t take it any longer. Yeah, dude had a bitch begging him to fuck me. Mmmm. He flipped me over, strapped on a Durex, then dug my insides out like there was no tomorrow, and he did it doggie-style…exactly how I like it.

The dick was soooo damn good. He has rhythm like no other. Whew! The brotha even made his dick pulsate inside my pussy. No joke. I could actually feel his shit jumping inside of me. Now that bugged me the fuck out.

And the minute I started talking dirty—telling him how big his dick felt inside of me, how good it felt; chanting and moaning, telling him to fuck me harder—his thrusts quickened, and deepened. As soon as he was about ready to nut, I asked him to pull his dick out of me so I could jerk him off. I wanted to see how much he came. I got a thing with seeing all that white, stickiness shooting, spurting or oozing out of the tip of a man’s dick. Oh, how that drives me wild.

Of course, my fuck of the night obliged, and I snatched the condom off, jerked him with both hands, and was pleasantly surprised when his dick spurted a big load of thick, hot cream. If I would have known him better I probably would have licked it up, right down to the last damn drop. But there will definitely be a round two. I’ve decided to give Mr. Majestic five stars, and add him to my “charm” list. He’ll be filling someone’s spot real soon. Believe that!

Anyway, I am all fucked out from my weekend activities. And, today, I am curled up on the sofa relaxing. I plan to spend the whole day lying around the house and doing absolutely nothing. Well, that’s not completely true. In between masturbating, I will finish reading this book Dangerously in Love by this chick Allison Hobbs. Talk about a freaky, engaging read. Then I had the nerve to run out to Borders and pick up her other books Insatiable, Pandora’s Box, A Bona Fide Gold Digger, and The Climax.

I won’t go into details about the books, but DAMN her! What a freak! A few times, she had me slipping my fingers into my already cum-soaked snatch. Now this is one kinky chick. I’ll bet she’s probably a real greedy, dick-rider type chick. I’d love to meet her in person, and pick her freaky brain.

Anyway, let me finish telling you about last night’s adventure, and what I figured out by sitting at that strip joint for almost three hours, watching. See. I realize that the strip clubs are a ho’s paradise. Okay? Roll your eyes if you want. But trust me. Testosterone is everywhere. A plethora of dick and balls await you. At the bar, at tables, in corners, against the wall, young and old, there are men of all shapes, colors and sizes. Some who are there to have a few drinks, watch some ass shake, be entertained, then take their asses home. Others are there to get their drink on, get a few lap dances, maybe even some back room head, then take their asses home. And then there are the men who are there hoping to fuck. But, no matter what their intentions, at least ninety-eight percent of them are going to leave out of that spot wanting something hot and wet to slide their cocks up in—mouth, pussy, ass, or all three. Trust me, it won’t matter. And it’s a greedy, man-loving, dick-craving ho like me who’s going to be perched up at the bar, batting her eyes, licking her lips and marking her target for the night. Believe that!

Another thing I will say is—knowing what I know now, if my man was tricking up his money in some titty bar every week, I don’t know if that would sit well with me, especially since I know what’s really popping off inside most of them spots. Besides the dancers, it’s hoes like me in those spots, swarming around like vultures ready to swoop down on unsuspecting prey. Hell, I’d let him go with his boys and all, but you best believe I’d be somewhere on the other side of the room, at the other end of the bar, dipped down real low, making sure his ass stayed focused.

I lay my book face down on the sofa and allow my mind to reflect on how good Majestic fucked me. There’s something about a man hitting this soft ass from the back, deep, that drives me bananas. Especially when he has a long, thick dick, digging in and out, nice and slow, then grabbing me by the hips or pulling my ass cheeks apart, or sticking his finger in my asshole. I’ll arch my back, swing and shake my hair wildly, then tell him to fuck me hard, to slap my ass. Mmmm. I’m telling you, fuck me from the back and watch me turn into a wild, freaky, ho-beast. And this morning, Majestic’s sexy-chocolate ass could have fucked me in every damn hole. I can go for another round for sure. But I will wait for him to call me. If he doesn’t, two more will. They always do.

My ringing cell snaps me out of my reverie. I glance at the screen. It’s Garrett.

“Hello,” I answer.

“How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I check in on you to make sure everything’s okay.”

Didn’t I just speak to this nigga a few days ago? I pull in a deep breath. “I’m good,” I say.

“I was hoping to see you today.”

Hmm, thinking about my night with Majestic on top of the rain does have me wanting to ride a dick. And although my pussy is still aching, the fact still remains. Garrett always aims to please. Like I shared before, every time he’s inside of me, he strokes my pussy and clit just right. Not only is he good with his dick and talented with his tongue, he’s the kind of man who is obedient. He does exactly what is asked of him without complaint. If I w

ant my pussy in his mouth or his tongue in my ass, he does it and doesn’t expect me to reciprocate. Which is why I don’t mind sucking down his dick or gargling his cow-like balls because, with him, there’s no pressure. No fuss. Even though he’s not scheduled—in my head—for another dish of this pussy for a few more weeks, against my better judgment, I think I will invite him over for a treat. Humph…so much for lounging around today doing nothing.

“Hmm. Sounds like you want a dose of this good stuff,” I say, jokingly.

He laughs. “Well, when it’s good, it’s good.”

“Unh-huh, and haven’t you heard too much of a good thing ain’t always good for you?”

“I’ll take my chances,” he says.

“Well, don’t say you haven’t been warned,” I tease. “So what time you want to come by?”

“Your warning has been duly noted. Let me see,” he says. “It’s three-thirty now. How ’bout around seven?”

“Seven is good,” I state. “You feel up to doing a little role-playing?”

He laughs. “What you have in mind?”

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