Page 59 of The Man Handler

“Then I guess I’ll keep looking,” I huff.

“Yeah, you do that,” he says, glaring at me. I think I see a hint of pity burning in his eyes. But I do not entertain it. There is nothing pitiful about me wanting to fulfill my sexual desires. As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing shameful in my actions. And I offer no excuses, or apologies. He opens the door, preparing to walk out, then abruptly stops and turns to face me. “And the fucked up thing is I don’t even think you know what the hell you want.”

I say nothing. Just watch him as he walks out, slamming the door behind him. He leaves me standing in the middle of my living room, shaking my head. Good riddance! I think, cutting out the lights, then making my way back up the stairs. Just like the rest of ’em, he’ll be missing this good pussy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Fuck, I’m so damn horny! I know, I know, after that mess with Garrett a week ago, dick should be the last thing on my mind. But it is, damn it! I want a man inside of me, feeling my walls wrap around his dick as I pull him deep into my pussy. Then I want my wet pussy in his face while I’m sucking his dick, grinding my hole down on his mouth while he has a finger in my tight ass. That’s what I want tonight.

I’m telling you, if I were into animals, I could fuck a horse right about now. I swear it’s nights like this that having my own man would come in handy. But, then I come to my senses, realizing how much work that would require and get sick to my stomach thinking about having one man crowding my space all the damn time. Ugh! Oh, well, I think, scrolling through my cell . Can’t miss what you don’t have. But you can damn sure use what you got, to get what you need, so let me see who I can call. Hmmm…Got dick?

I decide to call Ian.

But just as I am getting ready to dial his number, my phone rings. It’s an 860 area code, a number I’m not familiar with. But I answer anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello, can I speak to Janaye?”

“Speaking,” I say. “Who is this?”

“It’s Q…we met a while back at Studio 9.”

I smile. Lady Luck and the Fuck Gods must be smiling down on me tonight, I think. “Oh, so you finally got around to calling me; took you long enough.”

“I couldn’t remember the last two numbers,” he offers. “I’ve been trying to get at you for a minute, ma. I tried every combination of numbers until I got you.”

“Well, tonight’s your lucky night.”

“Yo, that’s wassup. How ’bout I come through and scoop you up; you know, take you out to dinner and a movie?”

Dinner and a movie? I think, shaking my head. Awwww, how cute! I can’t see myself sitting up in a restaurant with this young boy. But, I can definitely see him between my legs rocking this pussy. Of course, I’m not going to waste time telling him my no-dating rule. I glance at my watch. 7:18 p.m.

“How about you come fuck me instead,” I say.

I can see him cheesing through the phone. “No doubt, baby. Where you rest at?” I give him the address. “Bet, give me forty-five minutes, and I’m there. You want anything?”

“Yeah,” I moan into the phone, “that big dick ramming in and out of my ass.”

“Ah, shit. That’s what it is. You got my dick hard as hell.”

“Just make sure it stays hard,” I playfully warn. “I don’t wanna have to throw your young ass out.”

“Listen, baby girl, check this out. I might be young, but I ain’t no chump when it comes to pussy. I’ve been fucking since I was twelve. And the one thing I can do is fuck all night.”

“That’s what your mouth says,” I tease. “Now let’s see if you can follow through.”

“Well, I tell you what. I hope you can handle all this young dick ’cause I’m ’bout to come through and put it on you.”

I laugh. “Baby, I was born to take dick. So, bring it on.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I drop my man off at his spot.”

We hang up. I close my eyes, stretch my neck back and inhale, then exhale. “Bitch, I can’t believe you are really going to fuck that boy; he’s barely legal,” I say out loud.

And, your point? I say in my head as I walk into my bathroom. I turn on the shower, take off my clothes, then step in. The nigga’s talking like he knows how to put the work in. So, hell yeah, I’m going to let him clock in. It’s not like his ass is under eighteen. Shit, he’s almost grown. Besides, anyone over the age of eighteen is fair game in my book.

I step into the shower, grab my Dial Tropical Escape body wash and lather up my body. When I am done, I rinse off, then remove the shower head, place it between my legs and allow the pulsating stream of water to beat against my clit and pussy lips, spreading them open and letting the warmth of the water tease me. I press the shower head up against my hole and wind my hips. I grind my pussy into the water. Yeah, I’m gonna ride the shit out of that young nigga. Wet that dick up all night. A moan escapes me as I feel the budding of an orgasm. I press down on my clit, then cum in a thunderous roar.

An hour-and-a-half later, I open the door, wearing a black silk robe and a pair of red stilettos, along with a scowl. The nigga’s late, and I’m not pleased. He waltzes his fine-ass in like he’s got it like that. I take a deep breath. Think to tell him to go the fuck back where he came from for being so damn late. But the minute he grins and licks his lips, I quickly exhale and decide against it.

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