contact with your father.”
“Maybe that’s because it’s none of your fucking business?” I put my hands on my hips. “And, for the record, I’m not acting. This is the real me, so deal with it or get to stepping.”
He just stood there looking brainless so I was about to slam the door in his face. He blocked it with his hand and asked, “Why are you doing this?”
I smirked. “The better question is why are
“I’m not doing anything,” he stated defensively.
“Oh, yes the hell you are. You’re disrupting my flow. Everything was cool until you came into the picture. Life was exactly as it should be and then you came along with your smooth talk and pretty-ass face and fucked it all up.”
“You’re sounding crazy,” he said. “I thought we were feeling each other.”
“Well, you thought wrong.”
I wanted to make sure Mason never bothered Jon again. She was perfectly content with her bleak life until he entered it. His ass had to go.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, pulling him by the hand into the apartment. “Let’s just get it over with.”
“Get what over with?” he asked.
“Fucking.” I bypassed the living room and continued down the hall to the bedroom, pushing him backward on the bed and straddling his thighs. “This is your ultimate goal anyway, right? Getting Jon in bed.”
I realized my slip immediately; referring to Jon in third person. Mason must have been too stunned to catch on because he didn’t reference it.
“You know you want this pussy,” I whispered, ripping the buttons off his oxford shirt. “I’m going to do you up real nice so you can move on to your next victim.”
He attempted to push me off without getting rough but I was relentless. Besides, I could feel his dick getting hard beneath me.
“I don’t consider women to be victims, Jonquinette,” the little puppy whimpered. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
I started licking up and down the center of his chest and then nibbled on his left nipple. “Just relax, baby,” I said. “I’m about to give you the fuck of the century.”
He flipped me over so that he was on top.
“Oh, you want to plummet in and out of me in this position, huh? Cool by me.”
I started trying to get my panties off but he grabbed both of my wrists and pressed them up above my head.
“Stop it, Jonquinette!” he yelled out.
I ground my hips underneath his dick and licked my lips. “Damn, I knew you were probably well-hung but shit! Let me put it in my mouth, Mason. Let me drain that long-ass pipe of yours.”
“Jon, stop talking like a whore,” he said. “You’re acting like some one-night stand a brother would pick up in a nightclub. That’s not like you.”
“Oh, but it is like me. It’s exactly like me. I am a whore. I’ve picked up so many men in clubs and fucked them that I lost count years ago.”
The pain in Mason’s eyes was obvious. That elated the hell out of me.
“That’s right. I’m a whore. I’m not even a common whore. I’m a
Mason got off me, left the bedroom, and headed down the hall for the door. I followed him. “I’ll just talk to you later, Jonquinette. You must have had a bad day because I know you’re lying. For some reason, you’re trying to push me out of your life but it’s not going to be that easy. I won’t go away without a fight.”
“You won’t go away without a fight? This isn’t fuckin’
He turned and stared me in the eyes. “This is already more than that. You and I both know it.”
“I’m going to say this
“I don’t believe that.” He went out of the apartment and started down the steps. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Since you refuse to face reality, I’m just going to have to validate it for you.” I paused for a second before I went in for the kill. “Call up your buddy, Logan, and ask him if I’m a whore!”
He started back up the stairs. “What did you just say?”
“I didn’t stutter. Call Logan and ask him what’s up with me. Ask him what happened between me and him at the wedding reception. Ask him if he enjoyed the way I rode that big, juicy dick of his on top of that table in the back room.”
Mason seemed like he was trying to maintain his composure. I knew he wanted to beat the shit of me, or rather Jon. I was hoping he would jump so that I could really fuck up Jon’s relationship with him. I would have kneed his balls so hard that he would have felt the impact in the back of his throat.
Instead, he just stood there in silence momentarily and stomped down the steps.
“And don’t come back!” I yelled after him.
When I went out that night, I partied like it was 1999 all over again. After downing a series of two-dollar Jell-O shots at a tavern, a couple of brothers told me about a foam party being held at an “undisclosed location.” It didn’t interest me in the least until they said it was a “nude foam party.” Then I was down.
I trailed them in Jon’s car and we ended up at what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. When we got inside, it was cold, wet, and crazy. There was this huge Plexiglas cage in the middle of the floor, which they called “The Playpen.” Fifty or more people were inside of it buck-ass-naked while a few dozen more hung around the bar area looking on.
An overhead machine was dropping gigantic bucketfuls of fly-weight bubbles onto the crowd of people who were jumping around like children. I couldn’t wait to get in there. One of the men I followed to the party came up behind me and asked, “Wanna get naked with me?”
I slid my tongue into his mouth and then drew his bottom lip into my mouth and bit it gently. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We got naked and were welcomed into the cage by “The Goodwill Ambassador,” who was in charge of helping people in and out without them busting their asses and handing out towels.
As soon as we climbed in, they started a nude conga line. It was off the damn hook. The brother I was hanging with grabbed onto my ass instead of my hips and started caressing it. His slippery hands aroused me.
“What’s your name?” he asked over my shoulder. “I’m Dennis.”
I broke off the line and threw my hands around his neck, jumping up and locking my long legs behind his back. Even though I wasn’t feeling doing the stripper thing on the regular, I was still quite fond of the ingenious handle I’d come up with.
I kissed him on the tip of his nose, gazed into his eyes, and said, “Just call me Mercy because that’s what you’ll be begging me for once I slay your dick.”
The brother was no joke. He carried me over to the wall of the cage and pressed me up against it. I helped him guide his slick dick into me and it was on: the biggest foam orgy one could ever imagine.
“Open the fucking door!” was the first thing I heard when I woke up Saturday morning. I thought I was imagining things until I heard it again. “Open the fucking door now, bitch!”
I realized it was Darnetta and wondered out loud, “What did I do now?”
