Applying Pressure

by Shvonne Latrice

Walking up behind her and placing one arm around her body, I spoke against her ear. “Make sure you answer when I call, and make sure you cum real hard for me when I’m eating ya pussy by next week, aight?”

“Who was that?” he asked as we trekked it out to the parking lot of the hotel. “My future wife,” I replied. “Nigga, what?” He frowned, genuinely shocked and making a nigga chuckle. “Since when did you want a wife?” “Since I met her pretty ass. You saw her.” I licked my lips at the thought of her hips, pretty ass skin, and lips.

I was coming for her ass, applying straight muthafuckin pressure and not letting up.

“I’m young, but this dick is well seasoned. Let me show you… prove ya ass wrong.”

“She’s a woman, not a female, nigga. Female is what we call bitches, hos, and animals. This a queen right here.”

“This shit is sopping, baby. Let me in that shit; you feel me knocking.” He pressed his rock-hard crotch against me.

“Damn. That’s right, baby. Take this dick. You taking all of that shit. Fuck.” He hammered me. I couldn’t say a word, only snivel. “What’s my name?” he inquired.

“You’ll understand this shit more when you run into a woman you want. As the man of the relationship, you dictate the mood of yo’ fucking relationship, and I’ll be damned if exes, homeboys, and loose pussy thots come in between me and my baby. Handle the shit.” I stood up.