As I reminisced on the night I indulged in what would now be my favorite dessert, I began to stroke my dick in the shower.
“Gage, baby, fuck,” she moaned as I lapped my tongue between her folds.
Remembering how she massaged the back of my head with both her hands while I softly but firmly sucked on her pearl made me stroke myself faster.
I inserted two fingers inside her as I continued to lick her beautiful pussy. Plenty of women I’ve dealt with tried to entice me by exposing and rubbing their pussy in front of me, but it always looked like they were petting that talking alien plant fromLittle Shop of Horrors. It just wasn’t aesthetically pleasing. Mahasin’s pussy, however, looked and smelled like a blooming rose. The fact that her petals were glistening with her nectar because of me made me spontaneous.
“Ride my face,” I whispered into her pussy.
The vibration from my voice caused her to cream all over my face, and I did my best to lick up what didn’t attach itself to my beard. I laid on my back as she placed her opening over my mouth, her legs spread as she leaned forward, holding my headboard, her body positioned on her knees. I lowered her to my mouth and went to work, tongue-kissing her pussy.
Still in the shower, I damn near busted just remembering her voice commanding me to smack her ass as she rode my face. Her command to choke her earlier let me know my baby knew exactly what she wanted—and wasn’t shy about letting me know. Without hesitation, I smacked her ass hard, making her tilt her head back and moan out in pure ecstasy. She came once again, and her honey was thicker and sweeter than the first time. Being a greedy nigga, I asked, “You got one more for me?”
“Gage, baby, I can’t…” she tried to finish her sentence. But she paused the second I inserted my pointer and middle finger into her pussy and used my thumb to massage her clit.
“Yeah, you got one more for me,” I smirked. “Can I try something?” I asked, staring into her beautiful, watery eyes.
I took my free hand and used two fingers to massage the outside of her asshole.
“I already said you can do whatever the fuck you want to do to me, Mr. Blaque,” she panted out.
Remembering those words, I grunted in the shower. “Fuck.”
I removed my coated fingers from her pussy and gently plugged them in and out of her ass while continuing to suck her clit.
“Oh my gosh, Mr. Fucking Blaque, I am about to—”
I slapped my hand against the shower wall to catch myself. Justrememberingmaking Mahasin cum hard while I was sucking her clit and fingering her ass caused me to release all over my shower floor.
After catching my breath, I bathed, moisturized my body, and slipped on a pair of my Saint Laurent boxer briefs.
Throwing myself back on my bed, my feet flat on the floor, I chuckled. Dollface was so spent from that last orgasm, she asked me what I wanted for Christmas.
“And don’t make it corny either—God ain’t on a budget, so make it wild. Like Bentley making a car just for you and never duplicating the model again,” she said, curly hair all over her head, while her beautiful smile felt like it recharged my soul.
“Honestly, I have everything I could imagine, so it wouldn’t be anything materialistic. I’d ask for snow in December in Havenbrook. I think we’d all enjoy that,” I said, then pulled her into my body.
“I think you’re right, Mr. Blaque. And you’d deserve for your wish to come true,” she yawned, as we drifted asleep in each other’s arms.
Mahasin
(3 months later, sometime in July)
The sky was clear and beautiful, the sun rejuvenating on my skin. Normally, on a day like this, I’d run to the bookstore, cop a new read, and spend the afternoon lounging in the park. But today? I wanted to go home, pull down my blackout curtains, and curl up in bed.
I’d only been at Serenity for a few hours, but my head was already spinning—like I was on my fourteenth patient and tryingto convince her that mixing her pee with baking sodawasn’ta trustworthy way to predict her baby’s gender. Shaking my head and clearing my throat for what felt like the millionth time, I slid the ultrasound wand across my patient’s belly and did my best to explain what we were seeing on the monitor.
Saliva kept rushing to my mouth, and I couldn’t swallow fast enough. I justknewI was about to throw up. The baby’s heartbeat thumped through the speakers—steady,whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—making my ears ring.
Shit… do I have COVID? I thought to myself, trying not to panic.
“Dr. St. James, you good?” Amber asked, eyebrows arching over her mask.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly—too quickly—because I was afraid if I opened my mouth any longer, I’d set free the vomit monster climbing up my throat. “Just need some water.”
She raised one eyebrow like The Rock, and I already knew it was because she didn’t believe a damn word I said.
Finishing the scan, I smiled at my patient and reassured her, “Your baby is growing perfectly, and I’m proud of you for cutting back on the sweets.” As Amber began wiping the jelly off her belly, I slipped out of the room like a kid about to catch an old-school ass-whupping.
