After we finished dessert and another round of drinks, Grant paid the bill, then took my hand and led me out the door. His big, warm hand made my pussy tingle. And as soon as we got back into his whip, he reached over and started kissin’ all over my neck and rubbin’ my titties and circlin’ my nipple with his thumb. My nipples hardened and I let out a moan. It felt like a bitch’s whole body was bein’ electrocuted. Sparks shot through me. His hands were big, strong, and soft…and his touch was sendin’ a bitch over the edge. I had to stop him before I ended up fuckin’ him in the front seat of his whip. My mind was tellin’ me to push him off me, but my body was in need of a thug- nigga’s touch. It had been so fuckin’ long since a bitch had a real nigga slay this pussy. I couldn’t think straight.
Since the only niggas I’ve fucked and sucked for the last four years have been the ones I’ve slumped, fuckin’ them allowed me to get my nut off and not have to worry ’bout a nigga puttin’ me on front street. Murkin’ their asses made fuckin’ them that much easier. They’d take my slutty deeds to their graves.
I know I’m a ho like the next bitch, but…fuck! Not on the first date. Not in the front seat of a car. Not in a parking lot. No. No. No. No. I heard the words in my head, but can’t remember sayin’ them. A bitch became a fuckin’ mute. My tongue was stuck in the back of my throat, right where I wanted his dick to be.
He nibbled on my chin, lightly brushed his thick, soft lips against mine, then pulled away, flickin’ the tip of his tongue against my upper lip. “I better get you home,” he finally said in his deep, sexy voice. Just like that! He had a bitch’s thong drenched. Had her pussy cracklin’, and…“I better get you home” is what he hits me with. What the fuck?!
“I wanna fuck,” I whispered in his ear. “You got a bitch on fire.” I sucked on his earlobe, traced his ear with my tongue.
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned. His head was pressed back on his headrest, and his eyes were half-closed as his fingas found the center of my wet pussy. He slid his hand under my dress and pulled at the string of my thong. He slid one finga, then two, inside my slit.
I moaned. “Mmm…you got some thick fingas.”
“That’s not the only thing thick,” he said in between soft, warm kisses on my lips.
“That’s what ya mouth says.”
“And that’s what my dick says.”
His fingas stirred my hole. “Deeper,” I said. Twinge of desire shot from my asshole all the way to my clit, like sparks. The steam from my pussy could have fogged up the tinted windows. I arched my back, pressin’ up against the leather steerin’ wheel. I reached underneath me and felt the thickness of his dick pressin’ against his slacks. He was stirrin’ my pussy up just right, and I was on my way to bustin’ a thick nut. My body started buckin’. “Mmmmm…you wanna feed me that dick, daddy?”
“Yeah, baby.” He brushed his lips against mine, losin’ his fingas in my wetness. I moaned again. “That’s right, baby. Bust that nut for daddy; wet daddy’s fingers.” I clenched his fingas with my pussy, started grindin’ deep and hard on his hand, bit him on his bottom lip, and nutted all over his fingas. Sweat dripped from my face.
“Damn, you got a a nice, hot pussy.” He smiled, pullin’ his cummy fingas from outta my hole. Then he fucked a bitch up when he stuck them in his mouth and sucked the cream off ’em. “Mmmm…and it tastes like honey, too.” He kissed me on the lips, then stuck his fingas in my mouth. He watched me, grinnin’ as I sucked them down to the knuckles. I ran my tongue in between each one, then climbed off him and sat back in my seat. My nut ran down between my legs as I shifted in my seat, tryna fix my short dress so my wet ass wouldn’t stick to his leather seats.
I flipped down the visor to check my face. I smiled. Sweaty and all, a bitch’s face was still in place. “Shit,” I said. “This was a real bird move.”
“What?” he asked, startin’ the ignition and pullin’ outta the space.
“Lettin’ you run ya fingas all up in me.”
“Nah, baby,” he said real easy-like, lookin’ over at me. “It’s all good. You ain’t rustlin’ no feathers. This was just the beginning of what’s to come. You’se a real dime. And I’m tryna be the man you need. Real talk.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah. And what makes ya think I need a man?”
He grinned. “’Cause ya body told me all I needed to know.”
I sucked my teeth. “Whatever, nigga!” I snapped, playfully hittin’ him on the arm.
He bust out laughin’, makin’ his way back to my spot.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
At ten a.m. the followin’ mornin’, I was sittin’ in my office lookin’ at the flick of my next target. He was a nice-lookin’ older cat with a full beard, a thick nose, and full lips. I read his stats:
I got up and walked to my master bathroom and turned on the shower, then went into one of my bedroom walk-ins and pulled down my yellow Tumi bag. I tossed some wears and cosmetics in the bag before goin’ back into the bathroom to shower. My flight to San Diego was at one-thirty, and I needed to get ready to make my way to the airport.
At four-forty their time, I landed at San Diego International Airport. After I got my bag, I headed toward the shuttle bus to pick up my rental—a burgundy Toyota Corolla. My destination was the Humphries Half Moon Inn & Suites on Shelter Island. My mark was conveniently stayin’ there for some type of week-long business conference and typically stayed in his rooms alone, so unless he was totally committed in a relationship, or was strictly suckin’ dick, enticin’ him with a dish of this deep pussy would be easy, just the way I liked it. On some crazy shit, I often wondered what I’d do if one of my targets proved to be a bit more challengin’ than I hoped for and refused a bitch some dick. Unfortunately, I’d have to go into plan B: straight sharp-shoot his ass on the spot, then peel rubber. Ugh, that’d be some real borin’ shit!
Ten minutes later, I was turnin’ onto Shelter Island Drive and slowly makin’ my way to the hotel. When I saw the entrance, I pulled into the packed parkin’ lot and strutted my way to the front desk. Keepin’ shit real, I was really diggin’ the hotel’s layout. All these big tropical trees and exotic flowers ’n shit had me thinkin’ I was in some kinda paradise or somethin’. The receptionist smiled as I walked through the slidin’ glass doors.
“Hello, welcome to Humphries Half Moon Inn and Suites.”
“Hi, I’d like to check in.”
“Sure, your name, please?” I smiled and gave her one of my aliases. For this trip, I was Natasha Simmons. I handed her my fake ID. The room, as with all the others, was already paid for through Cash. Don’t ask how, ’cause on some real shit, I’ve never asked, and I honestly didn’t give a shit how or what he did to make it happen; or where and how he got his connects. I was only ’bout the business of killin’, feel me? All that extra shit was of no concern to me.
“Oh, yes, Ms. Simmons,” she stated, clickin’ the keyboard with her thin fingas. “Here you are. We have you in one of our marina-view suites. I think you’ll find it to be lovely as it overlooks the marina and the tropical garden. And at night, you’ll be able to see downtown San Diego. Will you need more than one key?”
“Here you go,” she said, handin’ me the key. “You’re in Marina Suite 105.” She pointed in the direction I should go. “It’s out this door to the left, then around the side on your left. You can go all the way around the
