behind me needed to relax. Get laid. Stop blowing her horn and blow a man. Damn. I hadn’t sucked his dick. Didn’t even kiss it. Should I apologize? He didn’t seem to care. Glancing at my cell, I tapped my message app, then Spencer’s name.
A call came in from Mercedes as the person behind me skidded around my car at the Sidney Marcus Boulevard intersection. I stopped at the red light by Chick-fil-A to give her time to move on.
I answered, “Hey, honey.”
“Don’t hey-honey me. Where are you?” she demanded.
“On my way to the salon. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Mother, why haven’t you an—”
I ended the call, blasted Beyoncé’s “Drunk in Love,” playing on 107.5, then shouted, “Oh, baby!” in my most raspy tone. All the way to the salon, I replayed the scene with my knees on his oversize chair.
As I turned onto Edgewood Avenue, thoughts of Spencer’s big dick inside my pussy filled me up. Gushing all over his smooth black leather chair made me shout, “Oh, baby!” I whipped my sports car into a space next to Mercedes’s car.
Marcus Darlin opened the door. “Blake, get your behind in here! If it weren’t for Mercedes begging me to stay, you’d be off my schedule.”
I was only fifteen minutes behind schedule. I rushed inside. Mercedes was in a stylist chair with her legs crossed. Her foot swayed back and forth.
Marcus Darlin pointed at his chair. “Sit.”
Fingering my hair, he commented, “No need to ask what you’ve been doing. What style do you have in mind?”
“Give her something elegant and age-appropriate. And trim those edges,” Mercedes said, thumbing through the recent issue of Hair magazine.
“Honey, too late for that. Her edges have already been trimmed,” Marcus Darlin said, then added, “Real good.”
Mercedes eyed my attire. “Mama, why did you still have that on?”
“Have what on?” Devereaux asked, entering the salon. She stopped. Stared. “Mama, you could’ve changed your clothes. Do you have on the same underwear?”
“Blake, plead the fifth,” Marcus Darlin said. “That’s why I never wear any.” He took my cell out of my hand and placed it in his drawer.
I laughed. I was in a great mood. “I’m clean. That’s all that matters,” I said.
Suddenly, I remembered Spencer’s car was at his job.
“Mercedes, Devereaux, out!” Marcus Darlin, shouted. “Come back in three hours to pick up Ms. Blake.”
“I need my phone, Marcus Darlin,” I told him.
My girls walked out. Brandon entered.
Marcus said, “You too. Out! Come back in three hours. And Ms. Blake, no. You are not getting your phone until I’m done.”
Spencer seemed resourceful. He’d get to his car. His seeing my new do would make him happy. I was actually relieved Marcus Darlin had put everyone out. That way I could get the style I wanted without their input.
CHAPTER 22
Spencer
R olling over, I snagged my cell from the nightstand, ignored the messages from Charlotte, then texted Fabulous, miss you already
Lying on my back, I spread my thighs to let my nuts breathe. I did twelve dick curls. Had six more to go. Had to keep my foundation strong. Got the next half dozen out of the way, then moved on to my pull-and-resist exercise. Squeezing my shaft, I tugged my dick away from my body then I used my PC muscles to bring my dick toward me. I went back and forth until I’d done twenty. I did that every morning.
I’d read in one of my books that a hard dick drove women wild. That shit was true. Females didn’t care which hole my piece was in. They were fascinated that this motherfucka felt like steel. Glad I learned early on that fucking wasn’t the same as exercising. Pumping didn’t account for much if after busting loose I couldn’t get my shit right back up.
Damn, I didn’t know which was hotter, that blazin’ Ferrari, or Fabulous in that tight red halter dress with all that cleavage facing me while a brotha was trying to serve up cocktails last
A call came in from Mercedes as the person behind me skidded around my car at the Sidney Marcus Boulevard intersection. I stopped at the red light by Chick-fil-A to give her time to move on.
I answered, “Hey, honey.”
“Don’t hey-honey me. Where are you?” she demanded.
“On my way to the salon. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Mother, why haven’t you an—”
I ended the call, blasted Beyoncé’s “Drunk in Love,” playing on 107.5, then shouted, “Oh, baby!” in my most raspy tone. All the way to the salon, I replayed the scene with my knees on his oversize chair.
As I turned onto Edgewood Avenue, thoughts of Spencer’s big dick inside my pussy filled me up. Gushing all over his smooth black leather chair made me shout, “Oh, baby!” I whipped my sports car into a space next to Mercedes’s car.
Marcus Darlin opened the door. “Blake, get your behind in here! If it weren’t for Mercedes begging me to stay, you’d be off my schedule.”
I was only fifteen minutes behind schedule. I rushed inside. Mercedes was in a stylist chair with her legs crossed. Her foot swayed back and forth.
Marcus Darlin pointed at his chair. “Sit.”
Fingering my hair, he commented, “No need to ask what you’ve been doing. What style do you have in mind?”
“Give her something elegant and age-appropriate. And trim those edges,” Mercedes said, thumbing through the recent issue of Hair magazine.
“Honey, too late for that. Her edges have already been trimmed,” Marcus Darlin said, then added, “Real good.”
Mercedes eyed my attire. “Mama, why did you still have that on?”
“Have what on?” Devereaux asked, entering the salon. She stopped. Stared. “Mama, you could’ve changed your clothes. Do you have on the same underwear?”
“Blake, plead the fifth,” Marcus Darlin said. “That’s why I never wear any.” He took my cell out of my hand and placed it in his drawer.
I laughed. I was in a great mood. “I’m clean. That’s all that matters,” I said.
Suddenly, I remembered Spencer’s car was at his job.
“Mercedes, Devereaux, out!” Marcus Darlin, shouted. “Come back in three hours to pick up Ms. Blake.”
“I need my phone, Marcus Darlin,” I told him.
My girls walked out. Brandon entered.
Marcus said, “You too. Out! Come back in three hours. And Ms. Blake, no. You are not getting your phone until I’m done.”
Spencer seemed resourceful. He’d get to his car. His seeing my new do would make him happy. I was actually relieved Marcus Darlin had put everyone out. That way I could get the style I wanted without their input.
CHAPTER 22
Spencer
R olling over, I snagged my cell from the nightstand, ignored the messages from Charlotte, then texted Fabulous, miss you already
Lying on my back, I spread my thighs to let my nuts breathe. I did twelve dick curls. Had six more to go. Had to keep my foundation strong. Got the next half dozen out of the way, then moved on to my pull-and-resist exercise. Squeezing my shaft, I tugged my dick away from my body then I used my PC muscles to bring my dick toward me. I went back and forth until I’d done twenty. I did that every morning.
I’d read in one of my books that a hard dick drove women wild. That shit was true. Females didn’t care which hole my piece was in. They were fascinated that this motherfucka felt like steel. Glad I learned early on that fucking wasn’t the same as exercising. Pumping didn’t account for much if after busting loose I couldn’t get my shit right back up.
Damn, I didn’t know which was hotter, that blazin’ Ferrari, or Fabulous in that tight red halter dress with all that cleavage facing me while a brotha was trying to serve up cocktails last
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