THE GHETTO HOOCHIE (Life & Times Of Princess Webster)

👸🏾 Thirteen: Weakly

I would not meet his demanding gaze.

“What about Georgia? I can’t do this to her.”

He tried to turn on the Rico Suave charm.

“Look. I love her. You love her. But I want you. I need you. Please, baby. Make love to me.”

“I can’t! I just can’t!”

“Just open yourself…uh, and let yourself be free.”

“Ed. This is not General Hospital. And I said ‘no.’”

He was pleading. He wanted me. He reached out for me. I grabbed both his hands and pulled myself into his arms and when I realized it was the business woman in me, the prostitute who was all about money, I made up my mind.

“Two hundred dollars and we can fuck all over this room. Georgia is my girl, but business is business.”

He smiled victoriously, pulling me into his embrace.

"Better yet, four thousand, cash and I'm not fucking around about my money."

We kissed, rising on tidal waves of lust together. We crashed on the bed, wetting the ocean shores.

We built sand castles with tongues, fingers and whispering sweet nothings that didn’t mean anything in each other’s ears...

He guided his rod into my green pastures. We spent an hour rewriting Psalms 23 all over the sheets, making me come over and over and over, while I dug my nails into his back.

His hips quivered between my legs the same time his dick throbbed between the pink walls.

“I’m gonna nut in this pussy,” he promised and he exploded deep inside, grinding me to oblivion
as my moans filled his ears. Yet it wasn’t powerful enough to fill the room.

When he fell on top of me, I hugged him, stroking his hair, kissing his lips, looking into his eyes.

“Where’s my money?”

He produced his wallet and gave me five hundred dollars.

He was standing by the bed.

"That's not four thousand, nigga."

"I'll bring you the rest later on, damn."

I weakly stood up and yawned.

“When can we do this again?” he asked, deeply in love with me.

Oh my. What have I done?

I felt like shit. I just fucked Georgia’s man and made him pay for it.

“Never, Ed. Georgia must never find out about this.”

I was nervous. I was ready to run out of the room the minute the time was right.

I tried putting on my clothes, but he took them and threw them across the room.

He took me into his arms, sucking on my neck, making me so weak in the
knees the left one slammed into his nuts.

In an instant he was on the floor, like a helpless lady bug, holding his sack, whimpering.

I snatched up my clothes and fled from the room. Stomping along the hallway, I accidentally knocked their wedding photo off the wall.

It fell on the floor, the glass shattering.

Fuck the picture! I gotta get out of this house! I gotta get far, far, far away from this hellishly induced scene.

Destroyed inside, I was running down the stairs, fumbling into my clothes, and hurriedly put on my heels...