𝐁𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐗
衛ゑニ
𝐵𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒♡
Robyn and I weren't always eager for polyamory and threesomes with other women. We weren't always this exploitative and fowling to add another feminine element to our velour duvets. However, it began as a once-in-a-lifetime thing, to eventually loving the fact that we could both dominate one being, sexually.
I can be dominant and submissive, but only for my wife. And forging away that side of me for my lover's sake was prime for us, until it wasn't. I craved my demanding identity. I loved putting pressure on a bitch to make her do as I pleased under the intensity of my sharp tongue and piercing gaze. My authoritative demeanor had bitches ready to seep their lips onto the bottom of my feet, wishing and waiting if I'd fuck them and unleash my wrath on their bodies. I loved that. I missed that.
Robyn knew what I desired without me having to tell her so it was her suggestion to try something new. And before long, I was like a vampire through the night, hunting and questing out my next pulse to feed on. Then it became a craving. A craving to dominate multiplied, up until a year ago.
"So basically you're saying that you're afraid to date Kelly because we fucked before? That shouldn't really matter Lauren. It was like once and if I'm not mistaken, she probably knows already."
Her pout dropped identically to her jaw just now. I mean I don't tell Kelly everythingggg. Okay, maybe a bit too much, but damn, just because I'm a therapist doesn't mean I don't need therapeutic advice here and there too.
"Noooo! Why did you tell her?! Now she's probably going to look at me as some whore or sloppy seconds and butter me up just to fuck and drop me too."
The brown hairs on my eyebrows furrowed. "Is that what you think I did? Buttered you up, fucked then ducked? That's absurd and fictitious, and you know it."
Part of it is true, and she was actually our last fuck, but it's way more to the story than she's leading on. Lauren was the perfect submissive. She had the right tone of voice, she was gorgeous to me and her mannerisms alone begged for me to fuck her. The way my name rolled off her tongue, I knew it.
I knew I had to have her and share with my wife.
Coming into work this morning was already challenging, watching my babies knocked out, snoring beneath the white sheets of our bed. I kissed both their lips and left a love note on the dresser, not wanting to interrupt their dream-ville of peace.
The first thing I'm presented with as I functioned my door open was Lauren's short ass, sitting on the sofa with a grey jogger set on and the attached hood assembling her untamed straightened hair. Caught utterly off guard would be an understatement. Her eyes were tired and droopy as if she hadn't slept in days.
She wasn't her usual happy and jolly self, which had me worrisome for a change. Yes, my past behaviors towards my beloved assistant have been questionable and somewhat flawed, but I'm not malicious or corrupt by far. My heart could use a cap full of WD-40, but that's not the point.
We were now both indulging in a cup of decaf coffee with pure cane sugar, sitting on opposite ends of the nylon fabric couch that usually my patients would occupy. I felt it was my duty to hear her out. Not as her boss, but as a woman. As Beyoncé.
"It's not fictitious if I really believed you liked me. I know I agreed to only have sex that night, but how could you forget that you and your wife shared me over for a second time?
That first fuck was nice, y'all both took your turns releasing your kinks on me. You sucked my toes while she dug her large dick into my esophagus like it was nothing. Both of you had your way with my body and must've loved some part of it because I was back inside your home the next night.
The warmth of her cum painted my walls like pottery and you just sat back and watched. You watched her drizzle every drop of herself into me."
Fumbling with the silver rings that wrapped around her dainty light fingers, she finally glanced at my face as her head slowly lifted in my direction.
"She wasn't supposed to do that. That was one of your biggest rules. Do you recall, Mrs. Fenty?"
The smug that ran across my face expressed how disturbed I was hearing her say this shit out loud. Her being able to recall every detail of what occurred last year was stigmatizing. Yet, I still continued to hear her out.
"I signed a contract. No kissing, no defying, and no cumming until told to do so. Always expect protection. She wore a condom the first night and then she didn't even care to let her bare dick hang loose by the second night, provoking her to nut in me and you didn't even flinch.
I got pregnant within two weeks of our encounter. I knew my body and I was fatigue as a damn dog. I took it upon myself to buy several different tests and followed through with making an appointment with my OGBYN.
And T-Two months later, They couldn't locate my baby. I had an anembryonic pregnancy where I miscarried—"
"YOU GOT WHAT?!"
She was going way above her head with the shit that spilled from her so-called testimony. I promised to listen but this shit was getting out of hand. I wanted to kill her with my bare hands and watch her bleed out. Mind you, she kept this enigma locked up to herself for an entire year. Pregnant by my wife. MY WIFE. I never tied my hair up so fast as heat withdrew from my nostrils like an overweight bull in a cage.
"The contract said to never speak of—"
"I don't give a fuck about what the contract said, bitch. You had my wife's seed in your stomach for two, not one, but TWO whole months. Bringing me coffee every day, greeting me like a slick-ass bitch. I knew there was a reason for my hostility towards you. The way you enjoyed being treated by Robyn, how you emphasized your moans when calling her daddy.
I thought I was just jealous but you really liked her. You grew fond of how she fucked your back in and even let her spit in your mouth. It was a good ass time at the moment but actually replaying the shit in my head—it all makes sense now." I ranted as the heels of my red bottoms paced back and forth onto the carpeted flooring. "So again, fuck that contract. It was set in place for things like diseases, an NDA to never speak on the situation outside of my home, and an agreement to meet both of our sexual desires. Lauren, as a woman, you could've come to me about this. You were around me for days, weeks, and I can't say what how I would've felt but still, I could've helped you!"
My anger was more redirected at myself. Did I overlook what was in plain sight before my eyes? Was I so sexually satiated that I couldn't bring my head from the floating clouds? Pregnant. As many times as I've been filled up with Robyn's white adhesive, I've never even had a scare.
A loud scoff growled from her mouth, "Help me? Beyoncé, after that night you turned into a completely different person, you turned cold. Yes, we're in a professional environment, but we were still cool. We went to lunch together, we went clubbing on multiple occasions, even with your wife around. That's why I felt so comfortable taking you up on your offer that one of many, late nights here at the office. After nights of being stimulated, you just basically cut me off, acting as if we never knew one another, like your mouth wasn't glued to this pussy.
I cried every lunch break in my car trying to figure out what I did wrong. You never gave me the space or opportunity to confide in you after all the fucking we did in your bed.
I felt like I was just a wet ass. Used, and never thought of again."
Sitting on the edge of my desk, I watched as wetness flooded her cheeks like a forest storm. In the heat of the moment, I was feeling so many emotions at once. A bitch wanted to cry as well, that's how past frustrated I was, but I held it together because her shoes were more filled than mine. I handed her a box of Kleenex as I plopped down beside her. I can't necessarily recall what I would've done within her position either. I'm honestly trying to figure out how Lauren held herself up and came to work throughout that traumatic experience because I can't even fathom when she took time off, besides the time she had to undergo surgery about three or so months ago.
I allowed her to sob on my shoulder as I bit down into my lips feeling a boatload of tears advancing toward the corners of my eyes. The situation was fucked up all the way around and I couldn't help but sense sorrowfully liable on my end.
"I'm sorry for making you feel this way, Lo. I hate that I didn't leave that gateway for you to open up to me until now and that it had to boil down to this. As I process everything, my apologies are all that is needed First and foremost, and please know that I am coming from a genuine place.
If you need anything from here on out, my number has not changed, and well, I'm more than likely always a few feet away from you."
Prying her head from my shoulder, I noticed her fighting back her smile. "Thank you. I really needed that. For me, and for closure."
"I'm serious. Anything. I barely deserve your forgiveness but don't hesitate to reach out to me, Dimples.
And as for Kelly, I support you dating her. Kelly's good for you, and she definitely likes you. I can't tell you a moment where we're in the middle of a phone conversation and she doesn't bring up her boo, Lauren." I heard her chuckle for the first time today. "But if you need time, trust that she'll understand. She's not a total bitch like me. That's a good woman, for sure."
She sniffed, "So she won't think I'mma hoe?"
I tried so hard to hold back my laugh. I even tried to fight being my usual sarcastic self and say; yes, but it's okay because you're her hoe. But, growth.
"Nah. She's not really judgmental, and she's like catholic or something."
♡
Commencing from sending Lauren home to begin her weekend early, I was able to get many documents signed and health plans constructed for a few clients of mine, and answer a few emails.
My ringer endlessly went off after a couple of times of ignoring it. I wasn't in the mood for chit-chatting and it wasn't anyone anyway but Oni, FaceTiming me from Robyn's iPad. I clicked ignore again.
iMessage
RobynFen@icloud.com: Bich! 🖕🏽👂🏽
"I know you fucking lying."
Soon as that next call came in I immediately pressed answer because her badass is definitely pushing it, and has been for a minute now.
"Ghiutrr hguuhg H-HATER!" She yelled at me through her roaring sobs. I'm talking about snot running down her trembling lips and all.
"Calm down, Oni. Why are you crying? And who you calling a bitch?"
She was truly hyperventilating and I couldn't understand a word she was saying. It took me about two minutes to get her to finally calm down to a good four, eventually forging that her verbiage was clear to my hearing.
"Okay baby, tell mommy what's going on." Anxiousness laced my tone because I'd never seen her so riled up before.
"Robbie, f-fell! Hers not waking up. I scared!!! I call you a thousand times. No answer! Look, m-mommy!"
She proceeded to turn the camera around, and lo and behold Robyn was lying aimlessly upon the white marble floors of our kitchen floor, undoubtedly unconscious with a face so pale she was almost not recognizable. My heart sank to my feet and Oni's bawling only echoed louder.
What. The. Entire. Fuck.
𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑒...
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🙂
Thoughts?
Lauren and what happened with the Fenty's?
Her dropping the ball about her pregnancy? Was her grandma the baby?
Beyoncé's reaction?
Poor, Robbie. What happened to the Avon lady? 😞
Thanks for reading!