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Every
few seconds J would peek out the window of her 3rd floor apartment in the
projects to see if Mitchell was walking up the block. The usual gang of suspects
from the projects was hanging on the corner smoking weed and blasting rap music
below her apartment window, which was close to the streets. A haze of smoke
drifted lazily through her bedroom window, and J expertly inhaled, and then
swallowed it as if she was swallowing Mitchell’s babies. J thought she
recognized one of them as her ex-boyfriend, Spliff but it turned out not to be
him. It was
Two
hours ago, Mitchell called talking that sweet shit that always got J’s panties
wet and smiling like a schoolgirl. She was far from a schoolgirl, but still held
on to the belief that she would fall in love and be loved. Her heart had been
broken many times before by silver tongued men who promised to love her until
the day she died, but they always left after the pussy became too familiar. She
was always replaced with someone new, but definitely not better. New doesn’t
mean better, but men just seem incapable of being satisfied with one pussy no
matter how sweet it is to them. J was pushing thirty and she was tired. But like
most women, still hopeful that there was still one good guy left out there to
love her, and men knew that this belief kept most women going long after they
should have given up on the male species.
“Just
make sure your sweet ass is naked,” Mitchell had told her. “We fucking like
rabbits as soon as I get there. I got a cock headache and your pussy is the
aspirin.” The shit that came out Mitchell’s mouth always made J cackle a
laugh that made her cringe at how she was wrapped around his finger like a piece
of string. All she wanted was for a man to see past her pussy and see how
beautiful her heart was also. There should be a timer on your pussy. It would
stay locked until there was reasonable assurances that a man was genuine in his
affections, and only then would it open to release the honey.
“You
always chat that shit when you need this pussy, but you never be answering your
damn phone when I call,” J’s voice was angry now and drinking almost an
entire bottle of Alize and two joints in her system always made her more
emotional. “Why you treat me this way all the time like I’m some kinda
fucking jump-off or some whore bitch? I know I’m not your woman but I ain’t
no jump off either.”
Drink
in one hand and cell phone in the other, J walked around her apartment in black
thongs and high heels and continued to rage to Mitchell about how he treated
her. She was near tears but got it
together before the waterworks started to fall. This drama with J had been going
on for a year now so Mitchell knew the deal. He let her vent then soothed her
with the words that always got him through the door and into her panties.
Ultimately, that’s all he cared about. Another
man could have the rest of the shit she was trying to give him. All he wanted
was to bust a big nut, have his dick sucked and then fall asleep.
“I’m
sorry baby,” he said for the thousandth time.
“There’s no excuse for my behavior especially since you’re always
so good to me. I miss you baby and I need to see you,” his voice always
dropped to barely a whisper to emote sincerity and longing. Every time, J would
fall for his bullshit. Mitchell knew how his words and dick affected J. He knew
she was crying silently at his sincerity, and he promised to make it up to her
as soon as he got there. Two hours later he walked through the projects empty
handed and headed to her apartment. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her
looking out the window already naked, and she was probably having a pussy stroke
at being kept waiting again. He would soon make her forget her anger and replace
it moans of intense passion. Mitchell knew the only thing that he needed to know
was that J had low-esteem, and he used it every time to get what he needed from
her. It was like taking candy from a baby, and every time it just got sweeter.
Coming
to the projects about twice a month to fuck J had been a new experience for
Mitchell. In this instance, the stereotype of what he imagined was all too real:
the stench of weed permeated the air, music of the most profane kind filtered
through the radios and rapped to precision by the young black men loitering in
front of J’s building. With his Ipod blasting in his ears, he would hurriedly
walk by them and exhale a sigh of relief once he was in her building.
He never took the elevator because it was too slow and there was always a
surprise of some disgusting kind waiting for his eyes and nose. The staircase
wasn’t that much better, and a few times he would have to navigate around a
drunken person that was passed out, a drug deal going down and even a couple in
the throes of passion. He might as well have been invisible because they never
paid attention to him. He was safe. They knew he was either slumming to get some
project pussy or looking for weed. Either way, he didn’t care what they were
doing so they let him go about his business in the projects.
A
few minutes had passed and still she hadn’t opened the door. Every time I have
to go through this shit with this girl Mitchell thought to himself. Why the fuck
do I keep coming back? It was about the best damn sex and blowjobs he had in his
forty years, and he wasn’t about to give it up that easily no matter how much
a pain in the ass seeing her could be at times. He lived out in
“It
took your black ass long enough to get here,” J said to him when she finally
opened the door. She had been standing there the whole time and wanted to make
him suffer, but she was the one dying inside to feel him close to her again. Not
wanting him to leave, she finally opened it and pretended to be upset, but she
was happy that he came to see her again. Mitchell would smile at her and hug her
but it always felt distant to J. It was only when they were having sex would he
allow himself to open up to her when she spread her legs-then he would become
vulnerable and treat her with compassion. She
was far from a beautiful woman. She was sexy with her size 2 waist and small
round basketball ass, but once men gazed up from her ass to her face; the look
on their faces usually was a telling sign for J. There wasn’t anything
discernable fugly about her except that the lower right side of her face was
slightly burned. An ex-lover in a weed-induced haze had poured hot water on her
face forever scarring her dark skin. She wasn’t able to afford plastic surgery
so the alternative was make up and long weaves to hide her scar. In the year
that she had dated Mitchell, he never asked about it and she didn’t volunteer
any information. She sometimes wondered if it didn’t matter to him that she
was scarred or maybe that he just didn’t give a shit, and all she was to him
was a warm, tight pussy.
Dressed
in a flimsy black thong and high heels, Mitchell imagined J as a streetwalker,
and the erection in his pants shifted at the scent of pussy in his vicinity. Her
apartment was dark and lit only by the light from the streetlights streaming
through the windows. It was more than enough to give him a full view of her
body. What she lacked in beauty was aptly made up with a body that screamed
sexuality. Her breasts were a nice handful with dark nipples that always seemed
erect; a line of soft baby hair ran down the middle of her flat stomach and led
directly to her clean-shaven peach, which was always wet and ready for action.
“You
see something you like, fucker?”
“Bet
you won’t be talking that shit in a minute when I’m fucking the shit out of
you.”
“Stop
running your damn mouth and do it. If I wanted to watch a fucking talk show I
would turn on the tv.”
J
turned around to give him a look at the ass he’d been neglecting and started
walking back to the bedroom. He grabbed her at the elbow and she spun in into
his body. Before she could protest, the heat of his tongue had snaked into her
mouth and she swallowed her words. His erection pressed against the outsides of
her vagina made her clit twitch with excitement. She turned to the side to avoid
his penetration. She knew this would only make his cock harder when she resisted
him. The fact that he was two hours late was slowly fading into memory because
she didn’t need to be angry right now. She needed to be pleasured. It
never took much for J to forget how angry she was at Mitchell for often treating
her like an after thought. The least he could do was bring some flowers or candy
she thought to make up for his bad behavior, but now, candy and flowers were the
last things on her mind. The only thought raging in her pussy was to be dicked
down for hours or until she couldn’t take anymore. Mitchell never left her
unsatisfied which in her book was a big plus.
It was only after he left that she felt like a whore for letting him
treat her like a jump off. For now, she just wanted his cock of pleasure to be
buried like a bone inside of her hungry pussy.
Mitchell
never wasted any time when he came over. Every minute was previous. He was on
the clock. Conversation was limited to the pleasantries and he would toss in a
few soft compliments to feed her ego. Other than that, it was straight to the
bedroom or right now up against the wall. J was a tiny woman Mitchell could
stand to lose a few pounds from his two hundred and seventy five pound, six foot
frame, but J liked her men big like that. She enjoyed the feeling of being lost
in a man and overwhelmed by his physical being and sexual prowess. The high
heels had slipped off her feet and her underwear laid at her feet in a bunch.
She had assumed the position for penetration: hands laid flat on the wall, head
tilted forward, ass cocked slightly in the air to receive Mitchell’s erect
manhood, but the fucker always teased her by letting the head of his cock tease
her enlarged pussy lips. The shit drove her crazy when he did that because it
just built up her frustration to a crescendo under he plunged his dagger through
her wetness.
“Don’t
tease me like that, baby,” her voice was low and aching with passion. She was
feening for that crack dick. Mitchell knew his dick was crack to J because she
repeatedly told how addicted she was to it. J had good dick before, but the way
Mitchell fucked her was the way a man should fuck a woman. He fucked her body,
mind and soul. She would lay in bed after they had finished fucking with her
body unable to physically take anymore dick, but she still craved to feel inside
of her. Five minutes after he sprayed all of his cum inside of her, sleep would
take him away to
“Fuck
me baby,” she whimpered as she bounced up and down on his cock like a
trampoline.
“Tell
me it’s mine. Tell me you love me,” he ordered her as J’s pussy juice
dripped down his shaft. He savagely fucked her and J bit down into his shoulders
to stop from screaming so all her neighbors could hear cumming with a force that
would leave her weak and admitting that she loved a man she didn’t even know.
“I
love you baby,” she said in answer to his question. You know this pussy is
yours. It’s yours anytime you want it, daddy.” The muscles of her vagina
gripped Mitchell’s shaft and milked it until he erupted like a volcano inside
of her. J had already cum multiple times and feeling Mitchell’s geyser of cum
exploding inside of her brought her to another one. They both laid down on the
bed, Mitchell on his back still trying to catch his breath and J in a fetal
position with her weave being sweated out and her pussy throbbing like a
migraine.
“You
want some water, baby?”
He
nodded yes. A stupid smile of self-satisfaction was etched on his face. J
glanced at Mitchell’s dick still semi-erect and kissed it as she left the
room. It didn’t take much to put him to sleep after sex. What is about men
that the minute after sex, they suddenly lose interest in a woman? It’s as if
all their strength is in their penis and once that’s emptied of all its
cum-they’re useless for everything else. It doesn’t take much too just hold
your woman in your arms. Selfish bastards the whole lot of them J thought to
herself as she bent over in the refrigerator butt naked. The cold air felt good
against her still hot skin. If she didn’t know any better, it felt as if
Mitchell’s dick was still inside of her and was being used as a third leg to
prop her up. J cracked open a bottle of
“Here
baby,” she whispered and opened the bottle of water for him. He took a long
drink without even opening his eyes, and handed her back the bottle expecting
her to be there waiting to receive it. In an hour, he would be going back to his
family and this excursion to the projects will be the furthest thing from his
mind. The beauty of being in J’s company was that it allowed him not to think,
but just allow his predatory instincts to take over. In his mind it was purely
sex, but J had done the unthinkable of falling for a man she could never have
because he didn’t want her in that way. How could she love a man so deeply
that she would do anything for him? J was certain that beyond the sex that
Mitchell didn’t care for her in the slightest. A few times she had threatened
to stop seeing him, but he remained unfazed. Mitchell told her that he would
understand if she couldn’t see him anymore. Afraid of losing him, J always
quickly relented. She was hooked and the only way that this sick dependency
would end- is if he ended it. She crawled into bed next to his naked body and
limp penis and lifted his arms to put around her. Maybe in time, when he
realized that she was a good woman and that she truly loved him; Mitchell would
come to his senses and appreciate her. Hope was all J had left as she fell
asleep in his arms dreaming dreams that would never come true.
Jéan-Pierre,
Dean
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