Someone once told me my pussy tasted like diamonds.
And I already knew what you're thinking: that bitch's pussy was sharp and caused internal bleeding. And I knew what you were thinking because I thought the same thing. Exactly when that sentence came out that boy's mouth, I raised an eyebrow and asked him to explain what the fuck he was thinking, on saying that horrible thing about my vagina.
His excuse: I heard it in a song.
He was lucky I also had heard it in a song, but that still didn't make anything more clear. It actual made it worst because then, he looked like a dumbass. You are never supposed to say the shit that they say in songs out loud. Who even says song lyrics out loud if you're supposed to be lost in horniness and fucking someone?
When I came, did I fucking say, Boy you got that yummy yum, that yummy yum? No? Yeah, no I didn't. So who told him it was okay to say that shit out loud? His mom? His brother? His divorced uncle with the four kids, all from different baby-mommas? He thought that wrinkly sack of droopy balls knew how to please a woman?
This was why I didn't fuck with boys anymore. This was why my taste had changed. This why I hadn't had sex in over six months. Okay, maybe not because of that reason alone but it was all building up. Boys were needy. Boys were selfish. Boys didn't know what foreplay was. Nor did they know how to bring a woman to climax. I promise you if you were to ask a girl about how many boys have really made her come, it would be a number under ten.
Sad, really. 'Tis was the reason why I had been shielding my vagina from the boys. And completely exposing them to men. Men. Oh, men. I go crazy with men. Especially when I think about this certain man, but that was a story for later.
I was in my last year of college, my last year of the hoorays and last year to get crazy. Real crazy. A twenty-two-year-old who would be graduating in a couple months? It was basically required for you to go crazy.
I learned it from my mom. She went crazy during her college years - the birth of me. No, I will not be getting that crazy, but real close to it. You could describe my mom's and I relationship more like a friendship rather then the typical mother-daughter relationship. When my dad died, we became inseparable. Shopping together, sharing secrets together, watching movies together, gossiping together. My mother was my best friend. And I was not ashamed to say it: My mother was my bestest friend.
Eventhough I hadn't had sex in some time, I was still satisfied. I would venture my little amazing body downtown, to a nice club, find a man, and he would escort me sometimes to his house or sometimes to a nice hotel. I seemingly always found the good ones. And the good ones meant that the watch that was on his wrist looked like money. No, I wouldn't call myself a gold digger, I just didn't want to do sexual acts with someone in a place that looked like it belonged to Patrick Star.
And these sexual acts would consist of him pleasing me or me pleasing him. None would ever go near my vagina or back hole, I was saving them for someone special. Saving them for someone who probably would kill me if he knew that I was doing that. Saving it for someone who was. . .oh how do I say this? Fuck it, someone who was. . .married.
I paused, lightening did not strike me down yet. I was still alive. The ground was not swallowing me up. My locs were fire free. My two legs were stronger than ever. My head had not been chopped off- I was fine.
Fucking fine.
Was it a bad thing that I wanted to pursue a married man? Some would say yes. Well most would say yes, but who would really be in the wrong here? Me or him? Fuck. . .both of us, but sometimes in life you had to do some wrong to find something right.
And fucking Veer would be a right and wrong thing. Coach Epps had been waiting for it. It seemed like it had been waiting for me to make the first move. I had known the man for four years- start of my college freshman year to this senior year. Longer than he had been married to his wife. I had been crushing on the man, since the first time I saw him. It was at the first try-outs for cheer. He was coaching the football team, already on the field, and cheer was doing try-outs. We made eye-contact and I swore that I saw him pause and suck in a breath for a second. We held eyes for about a minute more, then he turned back to his team and forgot I existed. That was what he wanted me to believe. . .that he wasn't interested. That he only wanted his wife. That he didn't want me to suck in dick, with my cheer uniform on, in his office as his wife was one door down, away in hers.
That was what he wanted me to believe. He was lucky I was so Goddamn smart or I might have fell into his little I dont want you trap, but I saw the looks. I saw the wondering eyes. I saw every single thing like I had a third eye on my ass.
Oh I forgot to mention the best fucking part. His wife? She was the cheer coach. A bitch of a coach, I had to add. And I wasn't only calling her an annoying bitch because she stole my never-before-ex, but because she was plain rude and disrespectful. To us, to other people, and to her husband. (Sometimes, or else why would he marry her?)
I would give her this- she was a great choreographer and always made up the best chants, but that was as far as my positive talking of her was going to get. I didn't like badmouthing people, but sometimes it was needed and when it was needed- I would take joy in doing it. Especially talking about that man-stealer.
I wanted to be the one he came home to every night. I wanted to be the one who he fucked every night. I can't even imagine him fucking her. She didn't look like the type that enjoyed sex. Her body was nice though. She got herself in shape because of the coaching I bet and her face wasn't bad to look at, but she just always had this bored hard expression on her face. Like that uhhhhh expression. Her eyes also rolled. I can't imagine a person like that passionately fucking her hot as hell husband. I bet every time he dirty talked, all she would say was, uhhhhh okay.
Fuck, that's a tight pussy.
Uhhhhh okay. . .
You gonna come for daddy?
Uhhhhh whatever. . .
Your pussy taste like diamonds.
Uhh- wait what?
See, boring. I bet he was dying to cheat. I bet he was dying to finally stick his dick in something responsive. I bet he was dying to find a reason to separate himself from that marriage. He wanted a way out.
Well, that's how I looked at it. And that was the exact reason I was going to use on why I took extra long on my makeup today. Why I took extra long in styling my baby hairs. Why I always wore my shortest shorts and best push-up bras when I knew that he would be on the field. See it wasn't just because it made me feel good, it was because I knew he was desperate for some skin. For some eye-candy. For something else.
For me.
"Sevyn, you present today or should I have you run another lap?" And here was the happy wife I was talking about before. Coach Taylor. She hadn't changed her last name when they had gotten married. Ha, she got my mental messages and knew he was mine.
"Nope, present." I said while popping my gum. Head now cocking to the side, looking past her to find something more interesting. . .her husband seemed like the perfect fit.
"Alright ladies, stand in position!" She gathered our attention. My teammates and I listened and stood in position. "Now perform the choreo again, so I can take a closer last look. Stay on counts everyone."
She had us do the whole routine five more times after the first time and as always, she was yelling down our throats. Yelling down our threats because the games were only a couple weeks away. Yelling down our threats because shit wasn't perfect, as she said. Yelling down our throats because she was just a cranky bitch.
And it was kinda sad because as she was facing us, even her back was toward her husband- he still wasn't looking at her ass. He was looking at me. I felt them burning through me every time I did a spin, flip, or bent down; he was watching. I even caught him once or twice because he couldn't look away fast enough. He always did that shit: trying to hide as if the third eye on my ass was blind. Or thinking the chills I got on my legs were because of the wind. I wished he would just move from that standing position, run to me, yank my hand and lead me to his office so he could fuck away all the tension.
"Sevyn, stand up! Stretches are over with." Coach Taylor said with a hint of irritation. I knew she only said that because my bottom was facing the bleachers. Aka: where her husband was always be standing. Was it so bad that I needed to do a quick stretch? Stretching was good for the body.
"Sevyn take a lap, you've been off your game today." I guess it was a bad thing. Dammit. "Get your shit in order and I except you to do the choreo right when you come back. And stop lallygagging." She blew her whistle and I knew that meant stat.
"Lily! Didn't I say stop talking? Give me a lap!" Another whistle blow. "Hurry ladies." What got her in such a crank mood? No dick for breakfast?
Me and Lily start walking to the sidelines then start jogging on the pathway. We stay in the inner portion of the track as we make our way around the field. And making our whole way around the field meant passing by a certain someone. I had a plan in action.
We passed the football team as they were running their plays and I noticed Veer by the water stand, filling up his bottle. I had a fucking plan. I let Lilly pass me and I faked me getting tired. I slowly jogged up to the other coach that was on the field, right next to the water, and put my plan in action. I brought my leg up and placed it on the first bleacher. Bending all the way down - arching more than necessary and tying my already tied shoes. By the angle I was bent, I knew that my bottom cheeks were showing. The flimsy shorts I wore made sure that they would be showing if I bent down an inch and I knew that I was more than one inch of bent over.
I heard someone loudly whistle and knew that the boys were also enjoying the only-one-person-could-afford-the-ticket show (Internal gag).
"Sevyn, stand up and get back on your side of the field."
Said my favorite person ever. My longing crush. Veer Epps. Coach Epps. Shit, when he said my name, why did it sound so desperate? Like he was asking me to do something completely different. Did he say for me to get on my back so he could fuck me on the field?
"Almost. . .done." I said with a small smirk on my face. With one last second of me bending down, showing him a real good look at my bottom ass cheeks, I then stood back up and faced the man of my dreams. And, oh shit, I could never get used to that face.
His pissed off expression made everything in me go crazy. His brown eyes slightly telling me to disobey him made me insane. His hands. . .oh God his hands making me imagine the baddest things. The worst things. Especially because his wife was a few yards away.
"I had to tie my shoes." I smiled brightly his way. I loved seeing him in the sunlight. It felt like a dream. "I wouldn't want to trip and fall and have the school shut down because the ghost of Sevyn Haren would be haunting the halls."
Not a twitch of movement. And that was a funny joke? "Sevyn, get back to your side. My wife needs you back over there."
Now it was my turn to stay stotic. Emotionless. How dare he throw that word in my face? He wanted to play. . .I could fucking play. I removed my eyes from him and spotted a familiar face about to run past us. "You- Morgan!" I shouted to get his attention. The boy, Morgan, ran a little faster and came to stand next to us - Veer and I.
"Morgan, you wanna fuck me tonight?"
I kept my eyes on Veer as I asked the question, awaiting for Morgan's answer. And what I saw pleased me very much: Veer's nostrils flared. I looked slightly down to notice that he had one of his big hands clutching his clipboard very tightly. Aw, was someone mad?
"I-I- what?" Morgan, the poor boy, stuttered.
"Yes or no?"
"Yes" I heard something that sounded like a low roar come from my favorite coach. ". . .I mean no?"
"You got my number? Here let me write it down for you." I grabbed Veer's clipboard out of his shaking hands and wrote my number on an empty part of sheet of paper. I then ripped out a piece of paper, where my number was wrote, and handed it to the boy. "Text me and I'll send you my dorm number."
Was I going to fuck Morgan? Hell no. Was I going entertain him though with other activities? I thought about it for a second. . .I had a fear because I was so invested with Veer, that I was going to be purring his name instead of the person who I had invited over, imaging him doing that do me instead. So that had to be a no to both.
But it would be less fun for me if I let my thoughts become free and put those things out in the open. All I needed to do now was to make sure that Veer thought we were going to be fucking tonight. And no, I usually never resorted to jealously or pawing with other people's feelings, but I had needed to think of something quick before he thought that he pulled one over me.
And to put the cherry on top of the ha-ha-fuck-you Sunday, I raised on the tips of my toes and brought my lips to the side of Morgan's cheek. "Actually, call me." I made contact, lips to cheek (ew), and lowered myself back on my feet.
"Oh, o-okay." Morgan said, mildly confused. I kinda felt bad for the kid. Maybe I could pop a titty then send him on his way?
I watched as he turned away and restart with his jogging, moving right past us. Now that was dealt with- Point one for Sevyn and zero points for Veer -, I restarted our pleasant conversation. "Anyways as I saw saying, I would hate to fall-"
His next set of words were spoken with as much stiffness as his dick probably was a second ago. He took one careful step toward me. "Get the fuck back over to your side."
I digged the temper. The anger. When he lit a fume, my insides became on fire. I looked right into his fiery gaze and said, "Make me."
"Sevyn?" I heard a bird screech. "What are you doing?" Coach Taylor always had to make her horrible presence always known. She approached us and her hands crossed around her chest. "What did I say about staying focused? A conversation with coach is not you staying focused. Get back to the team and now you're stationed in the front. I better see every move hit correctly too." Blah, blah, blah eat a dick. (Not your husband's tho.)
But since I didn't want to get kicked off the team or kicked out of the school for punching a teacher, I moved a couple steps away from her husband and surrendered. "Yes coach."
I had moved about three steps over before her questioning started up. Her questioning which was directed right at her husband. "What did she want? Why were you talking to her?" The concerned wife asked.
I couldn't hear on what he replied back to her because I had to hit the road, well hit the track. I knew if I stood there, plainly ear-hustling, she would for sure make me drop down and give her fifty pushups. I didn't have the energy for that.
She didn't have the energy for any shit. She as in my coach (aka: the man-stealer). When she came back from her yelling match with her husband (not really a match since I only heard and saw her mouth moving a mile a second and he had that same hard look on his face), she was on one. And by on one: she didn't have time for anymore slacking and anymore shit. Since I had been placed right in front, I couldn't do my slow suggestive sensual extra as hell content, to show off in front of her man. (Boo-hoo.) The rest of practice, she put our booties in gear. Had us tight and in check. When she finally hollered out a, Practice over, I was thanking God. She really had me praying to God earlier, saying that I was going to change my ways and not be a sneaky slut if he ended this practice. He had delivered, but my promise was going to be held off. . .just for a little. (Please don't strike me with lightning God.)
I practically ran to the locker room. Ran to the shower and rushed to put my clothes on. Ready to get the fuck out of here. Actually, ready to get the fuck out of the presence of coach Taylor. Her husband on the other hand. . .I was ready to fuck him. Shocker?
With my clothes situated on, locs in a tight bun, I sprayed some perfume over my body and put my dirty workout clothes in my set bag, ready to go. But someone had stopped me.
"Hey, Sev. You busy today?" Kiana asked me. Kiana, one of my closet friends. I had met the special Kiana my first year of college. We had both been at the try-outs and it was amazing that we both had made it. We clicked when we saw each other outside of school though. Her and I go to the same hair lady. I was getting my locs re-did and she had been getting twists. Now her hair was in two cute puff balls. With us being the only two darkskin black girls on the team, we felt that magnetic pull, you know? But even off the field, we were still close. Her dorm was not that far from mine and we had many sleepovers, stories times and just basic breakfasts. She was my second bestest friend, right after my mom.
"I need to get some new shoes." She continued talking, stopping her movement by my locker. "I'm going to the Nike store at the mall. Wanna come?"
Yes, I did want to come. I could always use more shoes. Also I had no classes scheduled for today. But I also wanted to do something before we left. . ."Yeah, I wanna come. But I gotta talk to coach first." Which coach? I did not specify nor did she ask.
"Oh okay, that's fine. Just come to the parking lot when you're done. I'll be parked right next to the exiting doors."
"I got you, Ki. See you in a bit." I replied back to her then grabbed my bags and made my way out the locker room and into the hallway. The good thing about this college and how the locker rooms and offices were set up, it was really private. The locker rooms were locker rooms and the offices were right outside. The coaches offices were the next doors on the right of the big locker room doors. And did I mention very private? It was a room, with two windows on each side of the desk. Well coach Taylor's was. I had been in Coach Taylor's office one time too many, but never in Coach Epps. Probably because I was trying to keep my devilish side in check- but no more of that. I was going to unbreak these chains and do what the fuck I wanted. Last year hello.
I was so glad I picked out another short shirt, with a big sweater that would hang off my shoulder today. I needed to give him something to look at, but not too much? (He-he)
I walked my hot self to his office door and knocked on the wood twice. He heard and the words, "Come in" were spoken. In that deep voice of his, I needed to add.
I complied and moved my body inside his office room which was nice and clean. Dark colors coated the walls. Basic solid color chairs were placed on both sides of the big office desk, which was made from the finest wood. He had a bookshelf, a brown rug under his desk, multiple lightbulbs on the walls and ceilings and when I finally took a look at the man behind the desk- he looked pissed.
Too bad. I walked more inside the room, shut the door to lock us in completely and placed myself in one of his chairs. Looking him straight in his eyes. Looking a sexy ass man straight in his eyes. Have I already said that? Well now that we were significantly closer - in this compact office - and without the blinding sun in the background, I could see and describe every single detail of this man's face and body to sell the package on why he really was the hottest man I have ever seen. So keep your vagina in check and fingers in lock, above that beating spot, for this next paragraph. (He's mine).
Veer was the type of man that looked like he lived at the gym. He looked like the type to ask you: what do you consider to be a balanced breakfast? before you had intercourse. And your answer to that question would determine if you're getting that meaty dick or not. He was the type of man that exactly fit the casting role for: football coach. He had wide shoulders, tall muscular body and a bald head. Perfect for someone like me to climb that tree, flutter those leaves and secure that banana.
His eyes. . .God, his eyes were that perfect shade of brown. That deep chocolate brown. And did I love me some chocolate. His teeth straight and white. His lips were the perfect shape; round and big and his nose was perfect. Everything that had to do with this man was perfect. He was made perfect. And it was a Goddamn shame that he had picked someone else to share that perfectness with.
But I wasn't mad (Yes I was). I wasn't jealous (Yes I was). I was happy and me coming into this room was to congratulate him on his marriage. (Which had occurred two years ago? Really, you lying bitch?)
"What do you want?"
What did I want? Oh, your dick, your heart and your ring. Deal? "I just wanted to stop by and ask if I could help in anyway? I know your wife was kinda mad that she saw me talking to you. Want me to talk to her and reassure her that nothing had been going on?"
Ha, I was full of shit.
And he knew it too. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. Face showing not one lick of emotion. "What game are you playing?"
"Game?" I sputtered out the words so confused-like. "What game?" I knew the game, the rules, and was in first place.
"You're not dumb Ms. Haren. You know exactly what I am talking about." His eyes looked like they grew a shade darker? Was the sun coming down already? "You are supposed to say on your side and not-"
"But I had to run the track? It's a whole circle?"
I waited for him to acknowledge my statement, he didn't. He just stayed frozen: mouth not moving, body not moving, eyes not moving from mine. I started to feel the fuzzies because hello it had now been at least a minute of us staring at each other and his eyes were a wonder. He was a wonder. Oh shit, why was it so hot in here?
He cleared his throat then said, "What was with your little display earlier?
"What do you mean?" Say the Goddamn words coach.
Another second of us staring, back and forth. More goosebumps started to rise. Shit, shit. "You know what? Nevermind. Things are fine with me and my wife. You don't need to talk to her and this conversation is done."
What? It was too soon for the conversation to be done. I hadn't even gotten a chance to stick my tongue inside his butthole and he wanted me to leave? Think. Think. Would he believe me if I said that I had a condition that says that I needed to have a dick in my mouth every hour or I'll start going insane? Like even more insane?
"Ms. Haren, you are dismissed. Make your exit silently."
Fuck. Think hoe. I stood up, too quick for my liking, and started making my way to his desk. Two more steps and I ended up at my destination. I laid my palms flat on his desk and the man who was seated behind said desk looked very tortured. Tortured because he had just cleaned the wooden surface and my sweaty palms were messing it all up? Or tortured because he wanted to grab me and fuck me on the desk?
"Sevyn, step back." Oh his voice very much gave him away and I had a feeling on which reason he was in distressed for.
I repeated my famous last words from before. "Make me."
Annnd guess who walked in right on the perfect time? The same cockblock from before. His lovely wife. I heard one knock, backed up, and the cockblock had opened the door and made her way inside. "Hey, I wanted to ask you- Sevyn? Why are you in here?"
Trying to seduce your husband, why? Want some pointers? "I was just asking Coach Epps about the upcoming game and stuff. I wanted my mom to have the best seats in the house and was asking him which places he recommends."
"Oh." She quickly looked at her husband. "Okay. Remember practice is early tomorrow so I need all you girls to come on time. Remind your teammates that as you make your way out, kay?"
No, you selfish non sharing bitc- "Sure." I moved away from the desk and moved closer to the door, hand on the knob, opening. "Enjoy the rest of your day." And then I left the room and shut the door.
Well that wasn't awkward at all. Why did she always find the most perfect scenes and ruin them? She had some kind of sixth scene for spotting this shit out. And damn, did her mother ever tell her that sharing was caring?
I made my way into the lockeroom to grab the rest of my stuff. Once it was in my hand, I walked my way to the exiting doors, exited and found Kiana's car exactly where she told me it would be. I walked and found myself in front of her backdoors, opened and dropped my bags in, then went to the passenger side door and got in. "Sorry, did I take long?"
"No, I was on the phone with Trey so you're good." She said, putting her phone back in her bag and re-arranging her seatbelt back on.
Trey was her boyfriend. No wait, her ex? Actually it was a struggle trying to keep up with them half of the time. He was into sports, as well as us. He played basketball and was actually pretty good. He wasn't bad looking either. Also darkskin, tall, with dreads. A college boy (ew), but very cute. I would never say that out loud though or Ki would physically harm me and I loved all my fingers.
"What did he want?" I asked while putting on my seatbelt.
"Same shit. A quick fuck before practice, but I told him that I was going to the mall with you. Also, I said that if he wanted to mess with me again, he needed to buy me a meal first." She put the keys in the ignition and put the car in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. "I'm not trying to be known as that 'toxic couple.' If he really wants to be with me or even fuck me, he needs to treat me better."
I nodded my head. Completely supporting her and very happy that he is now coming to that realization. I had said it one, twice, bout a million times. "Good, I'm happy that you are finally realizing your worth. Trey may be a good fuck, but he's not really boyfriend material. You guys have tried that route like a thousand times and he still manages to fuck up. Maybe its time for you to try something new?"
She turned onto the busy street. "Yeah. . .maybe you're right."
And the funny thing about this whole conversation was that I was not even going to be listening to my own advice.
Oh well. Once a hypocrite always a hypocrite.
•
a/n: SOOOOO new story ! and it's a HOMEWRECKING story (no kids in this story tho, just marriage). imma state it again: she is a homewrecker and this story is FIC-TION-AL. no think pieces, this is purely for entertainment. if u don't like cheating (i completely understand), do not read.
Veer pronounced like beer but switch the b to v. and Sevyn like the number seven.
ALSO THANK U FOR READING the first chpt AAAA i'm excited