Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow (10 page)

BOOK: Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow
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I let my breasts fall out of my bra and then tossed it over his shoulder. I grabbed each one of my breasts in a hand, and then lifted my left one and licked it with the tip of my tongue.

Tevin remained silent, taking in my every move, and my every word.

“I want you to suck my breasts as though you've never done it before. Like you've been waiting since forever to do this, like a teenaged boy waiting for his first time getting lucky.”

I stood up completely on the bed and unfastened the string on my pants, then let them fall so Tevin could see my black-lace thong.

“I want you to rip my panties off with your teeth and then eat my pussy like it is the sustenance you need in order to wake up in the morning. And then I want you to feed me your dick so I can wake up with a smile on my face in the morning.”

Tevin grinned.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just feel so blessed right now. Even though I'm crazy about you, and I love you, I never expected you to be so freaky in the bedroom.”

“We haven't done anything yet.”

He grabbed one of my ass cheeks in each hand and pulled me closer to him. “Exactly, and my dick is already hard enough to split bricks. Everything about you is turning me on. Keep looking at me like that and talking dirty to me. What do you want me to do after I feed you this dick?”

“Well, after I hum out several tunes on your mic, I want you to stick it in me and fuck me until I come all over it.”

He grinned from ear to ear and then set my ass free.

“Let me go get my condoms out the next room,” he said, and started to turn away.

“We've both been tested.”

I had delivered my speech to Tevin a couple of weeks earlier and he had agreed to be tested. I was tested as well. We were both clean.

I could tell that he seemed a bit apprehensive so I wanted to clarify that he was the exception.

“I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Tevin. I did use condoms with the others, who shall remain nameless. If we are going to be together, I want us to be together. I want to taste you and I want you to taste me. I want you to be able to lick your breakfast and taste all of this good-good.”

I let go of my breasts and reached my right hand down into my thong while I was grabbing Tevin by the back of his neck, drawing his face closer to me, and starting to kiss him. I played in my pussy for a moment; it was hotter than the flames of hell.

Then I took my two damp fingers and put them in between our mouths so we could both suck on them together.

“You like that?” I asked, breathing directly into Tevin's mouth.

“Ummmmmmm hmmmmm,” he mumbled. “I love it.”

I lay down on the bed and reached for him to get on top of me. “Kiss me again.”

Tevin didn't hesitate a second and he was on me, tonguing me down and grinding his dick between my legs.

We continued the kiss until I felt like I was about to scream. I had to come up for air. No one had ever kissed me like that before . . . ever.

“Damn,” I whispered. “I can tell you have a humongous dick, even through your pants.”

“Want to see it?” he asked, and then grinned.

“I want to see it, touch it, lick it, suck it, and then fuck it.”

Tevin stood up and took off his pants. He had no underwear on and what popped out damn near made me jump off the bed. He indeed had a huge dick—ten inches minimum and the girth was
outlandish
.

He sensed my apprehension. “I hope you don't run from this. I probably should have brought this up before, but I didn't want to disrespect you by talking about my size.”

“I'm not going anywhere, but I can imagine that it has been an issue with some women.”

He chuckled. “Somewhat.”

I sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled him toward me by his hips. “Since I plan on being the last woman who ever does this to you, it should no longer be an issue.”

I took his dick in my right hand, directed the head to my mouth, and started sucking on the head. “Ummmm, you taste so good.”

Tevin started moaning while I took him in and out of my mouth, more and more each time until I caught a rhythm. Then I started picking up the speed and giving him a hand job on the part of his dick closer to his scrotum. I used my other hand to caress his testicles.

“Damn, baby. That feels so good,” he whispered.

I let his dick go and then lay down on my back, turning my head so that it was dangling off the bed. “Come here,” I said, then joked, “but don't come too quick.”

I opened my mouth and allowed him to place his dick back in it and move it in and out. It allowed my throat to open up more and also let him see my tits bouncing up and down as he watched the way that I was playing in my pussy.

I had to take frequent breaths, and each time that I did, I used my tongue to lick and suck on his balls from underneath.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed about five minutes later, before he exploded inside my mouth. I let every single drop go down my throat, then turned over and sucked on him gently, admiring and worshiping his dick: my new best friend.

“My turn. I want to taste your pussy,” Tevin said, still trying to catch his breath.

I sat up, pulled him down on the bed, put a pillow under his head, and then yanked my thong off.

“I thought you wanted me to rip those off with my teeth.”

“There's always next time.” I giggled. “Right now, I'm about to feed you dessert.”

I climbed on top of his face, leaned back, and placed my hands on each side of his thighs. Then I started riding his tongue like I was in a cunnilingus rodeo. He grabbed the front of my legs and started eating me like I was his last feast. It was some amazing shit. His tongue was at least half as long as his dick. He made me come all over his tongue within minutes.

I fell off of him. “I need a break.”

He chuckled. “No; no breaks.”

“I don't think I've ever come so hard!” I exclaimed.

“You'd better get used to it then.” He lay beside me and we cuddled so that our chests were touching and we could gaze into each other's eyes. “I'm planning on making love to you as much as possible, and I haven't actually even done it yet.”

“All of it is a part of making love,” I replied, playing with his hairless chest.

“Yeah, but here comes the good part.”

“Oh my!”

That was all that I got out before he was inside of me.

“Oh, Jemistry!” he whispered right after he entered me. I was trying to deal with the initial pain of his dick being so big. “You feel so good!”

Now I will say this. In my lifetime, I had only been rendered speechless by one other dick. I had screwed this guy back in college off the cuff one night and he put it on me so bad that I couldn't even find the words. Tevin was the second man to render me speechless when he started slowly grinding his dick into me.

I spread my legs into a wide V because it was all that I could think of to try to give him the most access possible. He started going deeper and deeper and I was moaning like crazy . . . but
could find no words. And I was considered a “shit talker” in the bedroom. Not that night.

It seemed like Tevin fucked me for hours. It was really more like thirty minutes, but it was like being in heaven. Getting that first nut out when I sucked his dick made Tevin last a long-ass time. I planned to keep that in mind in the future. Saving the oral until after so he would come faster.

When he finally came, he looked like he was having a seizure. He clenched his face up and let his head fall down by my right thigh.

He then looked up in my eyes, said, “I love you, Jemistry,” and then climbed off of me.

When he went into the bathroom to clean up and get me a towel, I laid there someplace between bliss and wondering if I could actually make a relationship work for once in my life. I wasn't prepared to consider it love, yet, but it was definitely something worth exploring further.

TEVIN
Chapter Twelve

“The art of love is largely the art of persistence.”

—Albert Ellis

Two Months Later

I
t was a rainy day in May and the traffic was ridiculous as I tried to get to work. Sibley Memorial was in a quiet area, but getting into the vicinity meant driving through downtown DC from my house near Rock Creek Park. People in DC started panicking and driving crazy when it rained badly; during the winter, snow created absolute havoc. Whenever there were several days of bad weather, I would stay at the hospital like many of the other staff.

Being a doctor meant going into work when I was supposed to be there. When I didn't show up, someone could literally die. I had a scheduled surgery that morning. A seventy-eight-year-old woman had vascular dementia. She was already suffering from Alzheimer's when she had a stroke that ended up blocking the blood flow to her brain. I planned to go in and clear out the blockage from her veins and, hopefully, improve her ability to function.

When I first became a doctor, I had it embedded in my mind that I could save
anyone's
life. Becoming a vascular surgeon made all the sense in the world to me; growing up, my father would always seem so prideful when he would sit at the dinner table and tell us all how he had prevented yet another person from dying. In our presence, he never mentioned the ones who didn't make it, although I am sure he did to my mother.

I could appreciate him wanting to shield us from the fact that
we are all dying. It is only a matter of the hour and the day. Even when I did realize that inadequate blood flow could damage and eventually kill cells anywhere in the body, I was still inspired to try to allow as many people as possible some additional time. If it ended up being ten more years, ten more days, or even ten more hours, it all counted.

Watching people deal with sickness and death still bothered me, even though I paid witness to it daily. Delivering the news of death was the worst, even though I never made promises that I could not keep. I was always honest about the complications that might arise, the percentage of people who survived certain things. I understood the importance of being realistic.

Still, Mrs. Sparrow Turner had touched my heart when I met her, and I prayed that she would survive the surgery. She was a sweet older woman, a widow who had been married for more than forty years before her husband dropped dead of a heart attack a few years prior. She had four children, eleven grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. It always made it harder when people came from larger families. The waiting room would be packed with people pacing the floor, or clinging to one another, and sometimes a relative or two actually had to be admitted for observation because the stress would overwhelm them.

I will never forget one time when a woman was visiting her husband, who was on life support, after a repair of his abdominal aortic aneurysm. He had been without oxygen for a long time. She was so distraught when I told her that we were checking to see if he was brain dead, and advised her to start considering removing him from the machine, that on the way to the elevator she fell out. She ended up dying from an undiagnosed brain tumor and he ended up recovering. Having to tell him about his wife's death was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my entire life.

Being a doctor had truly humbled me as a person. A lot of my
colleagues were arrogant and often made mistakes because of their egos and not wanting to be team players. I was the type who loved to consult with others to get the benefit of their expertise. I realized that different people viewed things in different ways. Being confident was one thing; thinking you were God was quite another. After all, that job was already taken.

As I pulled into the parking garage in my white E63 AMG Benz, I noticed Katrina Maxwell getting out of her Ford Mustang. She waved and then waited for me to park and get out. Katrina was cool but she was overstepping being professional to try to get me into bed. It was not about to happen. I loved Jemistry and, as I had promised, I would never do anything to hurt or disrespect her.

“Hey, you,” Katrina said as I walked up beside her. “Don't you look sexy this morning! Then again, you always look appetizing to me.”

“Good morning, Katrina.”

We walked toward the elevator together. I tried not to seem irritated by her, but it wasn't easy.

Once we got on, she tried to step closer to me. “I've got tickets to see Kem at Constitution Hall next weekend. You want to go with me?”

“No, but thanks for letting me know he's coming to town. I didn't realize that. Jemistry loves Kem; I'll have to try to snag some tickets.”

Katrina looked disappointed but she shouldn't have been surprised. In the six plus years she had been trying to get me to date her, I had never agreed.

“Well, I'm sure some man will be happy to have me on his arm for the night.” She rolled her eyes. “Even though you think you're too good for me.”

I glanced down at her. “Katrina, I don't think that I'm too good for you. I simply don't want to date you. We work together. I've
been around you enough to be able to gauge whether or not we make sense, and most importantly, I'm already taken.”

“Oh yeah?”

I chuckled as the elevator ascended to the fifth floor. “Yes, indeed. She's an amazing woman and I love her. That's the end of it but I wish you well.”

Katrina rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “I'm sick of men turning down all of this.” She rubbed her hands over her body. “I'm too fine to be single.”

“I agree. You're too fine to be single and maybe if you let men approach you, you could easily tell who's interested and who's not.”

“Men approach me all damn day, but all they want is sex. I need a provider. Someone who wants to be with me and only me.”

“Well, like I said, I really do wish you the best,” I said as I started to get off on my floor. She was going up two more floors. I used my hand to hold the elevator open for a few additional seconds. “And if for some reason you can't find a date, I'm willing to buy the tickets off you for what you paid for them plus twenty percent.”

BOOK: Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow
4.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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