“Whenever you have a problem, you come to me, and I make it better. Is that understood?”
“Yes!” She screamed and writhed against him as he fucked her with all of his might against the smooth wall of tiles.
“Ummm!” Harder and harder he went, faster and faster until their moans and pleas for sweet release tumbled over one another’s, echoed in stereo.
“Baby!” she yelled. “Oh, God! Nix! Yes!”
She came hard against him, her pussy pulsating, swallowing his dick and pouring nectar all over it. He tossed the vibrator down, grabbed her by the neck and squeezed. Her eyes fluttered and then he kissed her – a hard, ruthless kiss. Wild-eyed, she worked her body against him.
They made love in the harsh colors of want and need. Desires hit a plateau, and then weathered the storm. The water cascaded along their twisting bodies but it had been on so long, it was growing cold. Depositing her back on her feet, he removed the arm restraints, one by one. He worked quickly to dry off her body, limb by limb. He followed suit and dried himself off, then scanned her from head to toe.
“Just stand there…”
Grabbing a small bottle of coconut oil, he rubbed it all over her shoulders, back, the soft globes of her ass, her breasts, thighs, and each and every toe. He took his sweet time, giving her the attention she deserved. Then, he wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her body.
She blinked several times, as if holding back deep-seeded emotions that threatened to spill. Like him, she kept a lot trapped inside. Now her insides were toxic, and she needed help with purifying her heart, releasing the poisonous build-up within. It wasn’t sadness but resentment, and he could tell she was trying with all of her might to suppress it like a bad cough. Taking her by the hand, he led her into his master suite closet. He pulled out a drawer full of some of his favorite over-sized T-shirts and told her to select one of her liking. As she did so, he retreated to the bedroom and turned up the music, switched on the fireplace, and slipped on a pair of loose jogging pants. Cleo Sol’s ‘When I’m in Your Arms’ started to play. Perfect. He got into the bed, reached for a folder on his nightstand, and perused some papers for a client he planned to meet with the following week.
Yasmine emerged from his closet sporting a dark blue and white Chicago Bears T-shirt. It hit right mid-thigh on her. Placing one beautiful foot in front of the other, she rounded the bed and slid between the sheets. He lay on his back, allowing her full access to him as she maneuvered around, then wrapped herself around his frame like a ribbon in a braid. He held onto her, closing his eyes as her sweet kisses dotted his face. ‘Why iii Love The Moon’ by Phony PPL set the mood. He raised one leg and moved his foot to the beat of the music as he caressed her arm. That’s when he noticed their heart rates matched, their breathing in sync. He didn’t know if he believed in soulmates until right at that moment.
She moved away suddenly and left the bedroom. Perhaps she needed food or something to drink. A couple minutes later she was back with that same gold bottle of wine they’d been drinking in one hand, and her journal in the other. She plopped down beside him, and he caught a glimpse of her ass and pussy lips before she sat cross-legged. Taking a swig of the wine, she set the bottle on the nightstand then flipped through the journal. He turned the music to low volume and crossed his arms, giving her space and his full attention. She took a couple deep breaths, then began to read aloud:
“…I sit in my office thinking about my life right now. I am with a man who understands and knows me in a way that no other ever has, but he can’t fully get how I feel right now because he’s not in my shoes. I wish that he could. I am running away to his house once I leave here. A part of me feels like I’m in foreign territory, as if this environment is no longer my own. I feel like the black sheep. Black. That’s the crux of this issue.