The Pitch: Can We F**k? (erotica excerpt)
Let me set the tone … in 2008, I was invited to take part in an erotica anthology. Eventually, my agreement with the project organizer elapsed, meaning I was free to publish it however I saw fit. I came up with an ebook called All We Want For X-Mas Is An Orgy, which I published in … oh shit, I don’t even remember. Needless to say, the entire theme is literally baked into the title. (Boy oh boy my writing has come a long way.)
Here’s a chapter excerpt:
I lead Darius into our immaculate bedroom, the place where it went down on a daily basis … literally. At 23 years old, my sex game is A1 with an appetite that can’t be rivaled by even some of the freakiest porn bitches. I’ll take it in the rear standing on my head, bitch what?
Our intimate space is decked out with everything thing needed to keep a bitch in the mood. Accentuating candles positioned on miniature pillars stationed in each corner of the room. An enormous plasma screen TV that keeps my man hard and vicious with hardcore pornographic cinema like Assiliciously Delicious. Plush soft red carpet to tickle my ass cheeks when he throws me on the floor and hungrily eats my pussy. The works!
Our bed is a lovemaking temple in its own right, positioned nearly four feet off the ground, elevated to a point where I feel as if I ridin’ that big dick up in the heavens. Yes indeed, this is where Darius and I spend a lot of our time together. Just being in there alone made me wanna tear the clothing from his muscular frame and get it poppin’ right then. But fuck that … I gotta get to the bottom of this trickery.
“What’s goin’ on Bay,” I asked playfully, pushing him inside and shutting the door behind me. He gave little resistance, climbing backwards onto the bed.
“What’s up girl.” Darius gave a playful chuckle, unbuckling his pants like he was gettin’ some pussy or head … one or the other.
“What ya’ll up to?” A smile covered my face but I was dead serious, intimately familiar with the stories from Darius and Devin’s reckless days, swapping girls and whatnot. I felt the need for concern was warranted.
“What you mean, girl?” My mans tried to maintain his innocence but I knew it was all bullshit. Forming an expression that indicated my feelings, he followed up with, “I’m lookin’ out fa you. Fa us.”
Portraying a slight attitude, I settled next to him on the bed, knowing well right where the conversation was headed. The mere thought had me nervous, ready to storm downstairs and retrieve the blunt and return a bit more prepared for what he was about to spit at me. Although we were both tow up from the flo up, I remembered our conversation about miss Krystal quite vividly.
Yeah, she was hot to death … for real. Natural hazel colored eyes. Smooth, honey toned skin. Flawless figure of a goddess. Like a horn-dog ass nigga, my head tilted and turned every time she left her seat, scoping that juicy booty hard, following that mesmerizing panty line to whatever crevice it crept to. I never considered myself to be a lesbian. Hadn’t even much as kissed a girl. Something about Krystal drove me to that point, though. Wettin’ the panties on sight, provoking these deep, pussy lickin’ ambitions that had recently overcome me more frequently.
I started to get somewhat antsy, hoping this nigga wasn’t playin’ wit my emotions. “So what you sayin’ Darius? Stop beatin’ around the bush and shit.”
Knowing that I was quick to cop a tude and fuck up a good moment, he admitted, “Alright look … member how we was talkin’ bout the three way shit? How YOU brought up how Krystal might be a bitch you could fuck wit? Well, we might be able to make this shit go down … tonight.”
Oh shit! This nigga work fast. Seem like Darius propositioned me with the menage’ concept every other day but this is a conversation we had just last week. How could he be so confident? Did he spit somethin’ in Devin’s ear? Did he come at Krystal on some extra friendly shit? I seen how he look at her. Shit, that bitch had to feel both of our eyes on that ass every time she walked pass.
Don’t get me wrong … a bitch ain’t stupid, alright? I know my man do his thang in the street. I ain’t dumb enough to believe that all the moves he make in the street are money or even dope related. What I do know is that he all mine. His heart belongs to me. So if he did go behind my back and slung dick to Krystal just to get her to fuck me … yeah, I’d have major problems with that.
Hip to the game, but I still needed a little more clarification. “So what you sayin’ is, Krystal down to do the damn thang wit us? What’s up wit yo boy, though?”
Thoughts of sharing Krystal with my man constantly crossed my mind. Shit I even pictured it goin’ down … just the three of us, that big beautiful ass squatted over my face … Darius hovering, shoving long dick down her throat. Better yet, with his head comfortably situated between my legs, lapping up my pussy juice as only he can do.
Ya see, I put a lot of thought into this shit, but where does Devin fit into the mix? To be honest, he was never a part of my heated vision. Hated to say it, but at that point, I had a hard time accepting Devin into the group. Three’s a menage’ trois, but four’s a straight up orgy. Not sure if I was quite ready for that. I mean, he ain’t it ugly or nothin’ but you know … that’s just hoe-ish. Well ain’t it?
Forever the voice of reason, my man shared his two cents about my insecurities. “Know what I’m sayin’ … that’s his girl.” Darius ran his game and I listened. “He wanted to make her feel comfortable. I kicked it wit him bout the situation … he hollered at her. Den it was like …”
“Hold up,” I had to intervene. “Did ya’ll fuck her? Did you fuck her?” Had to put it out there. Shit, this was a major step in our relationship. Had the power to make our sex lives much steamier or completely fuck up the whole relationship. I mean, so much was riding on this one proposed moment of pleasure.
Darius gave me that smile, one that signified one of two things … assurance or guilt. “Girl chill out. You know it ain’t even like that wit me and you. We talked about it and you was all for it. Nigga pulled it off, now you runnin’ away?”
I simply gave a silent nod on that one. Darius thought he had me in a vice, knowing I wouldn’t go back on my word, especially after all the shit I talked about sticking my tongue in places it had never traveled. His punk ass still didn’t answer the question of whether or not he tapped Krystal into persuasion. Fuck it. Maybe I should’ve never told him about my dream because it seemed to be the factor that ultimately piqued his interest. The shit was a lil weird but oh so real.
Me and Krystal on an island. Don’t know how we got there but we were. No men, just us. Shit got heated real fast, to say the least. It had been a few days so the visions were just bits and pieces, yet clear as genuine crystal. I still recall Krystal’s bubble booty mounted on one end of a 69, kitty mashed against my face, my tongue dashing gracefully over her clit, just how I like to be eaten. I woke up tripping that morning, not dripping, but partially wet. Thanks to my conniving lover, it seemed as if that dream was about to become reality.
Though still full of questions, I managed to compose myself the best I could, straightening up like the young soldier I was groomed to be. If he and Krystal had something going on, I ‘d definitely find out at all costs. Tonight, on this X-Mas Eve … I figured to get it while the gettin’ was good.
“Alright,” I agreed. “Whatever happens, happens. And I’m ridin’ wit you the whole way.” A bright smile signified the pledging of my pussy to Darius and whomever he wanted me to share it with. I assured him with a hand on his limp but firm manhood, following up with a grin that caused it to stretch inside of his pants.
Darius and I reached an agreement … it was goin’ down, taking a chance that Devin may slide in too. He never admitted to being in love like us but that was his woman. He wouldn’t just sit there and watch her get fucked without wanting something hot and wet in an exchange. Once I unleashed this perfect bubble of an ass and the aroma of my intoxicating pussy sweetened the air, he’d wanna roam over and taste all this on impulse. I understood the game. Had to. However, none of that eased the tension tightening my body. Bitch had to relax. If it was to jump, I wanted everything to be perfect.
Heard Devin came through with a half-gallon bottle of Tango. That would get it hoppin’ fa sho. Darius kept at least an ounce laying around, so we were good on the dosia. At the same time, I felt this bash called for a lil somethin’ extra. Six Rudolph The Reindeer rolls sat cozy in a plastic bag in my panty drawer … alongside a collection of high speed vibrators, conventional dildos and anal beads … party favors that cum in handy with or without a partner.
Thank goodness I hadn’t met up with Sara yet. Sarah, that’s my white girlfriend. Coolest, craziest bitch you’ll ever meet. For a few months I’ve had the pleasure of being her supplier when she feels like gettin’ loose on that other level. I grab the pills from my boy, tax her a lil bit and strengthen my bottom line. Shit, it’s hustle in my blood too. Fuck, I’d just have to get her back. I was more concerned with my own selfish desires at the time. When factoring X into the picture, this night was bound to get very intriguing …
Contel Bradford is a mystical and complex individual. You can attempt to unravel some of the mystery by visiting his author site at countkrewpublications.com.
