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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

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BOOK: Baby, You're the Best
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CHAPTER 16
Blake
 
 
 
T
he garage door opened to his apartment building. I couldn’t breathe.
“This is where you live?” I asked as he drove past the fourth floor where Alexis usually parked. I didn’t see her car. She was probably at the strip club.
I wanted to switch seats, drop him off where he’d left his car, then pray I’d never see him again. He drove over one familiar speed bump then another until we were six stories high. Spencer backed my Ferrari into a space marked
VISITOR PARKING ONLY
. I’d been here before. I waited for him to open my door. He reached for my hand. Taking a deep breath, I was here now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, leading me to an entrance I’d walked through a week ago on my own.
I didn’t answer.
The elevator opened. At least he lived in a different building and we weren’t on the same floor as my daughter. Spencer did not need to know that Alexis lived in building four on the fourth floor and he was in number two on the fifth. Or maybe he was already aware but hadn’t mentioned it. Perhaps that was why they were friendly when she left the restaurant. I decided not to inquire. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.
“It might seem difficult to get into the building but it’s not. If a person’s timing is impeccable, they can follow another car into the garage, then wait for someone leaving or entering the building then walk right in.” He stared at me. “You chill?”
“I’m fine,” was all I’d said. I knew what he’d said was true. Wasn’t sure why he’d told me. Hoped he wasn’t the kind that encouraged women to stalk him.
There were almost four hundred apartments here. I barely saw Alexis’s next-door neighbors. Truth was, I knew my child well and I didn’t want them two friends or friendly.
Spencer slid his hand in his pocket, pulled out a black ring with a Falcons emblem. A lot of keys dangled but there was only one lock on his door. I wondered if any of those keys fit the home of any females he was sleeping with. I noticed how his fingers danced in a rhythmic motion until he found the one to unlock his front door.
“Welcome to my haven.” He unarmed the alarm, then sat my packages on a royal blue velvet bench at the entrance. “Get comfortable, sexy.”
I stood near the door. The chocolate hardwood floors, high ceilings, and stainless appliances were the same as Alexis’s. His layout was different. There wasn’t a loft; his living/dining area was more spacious. Most things in the room and on the walls were indigo-blue or black. A bookshelf was near the front door. The titles I scanned were all nonfiction.
“Oh, that’s what I call my sexology department top one hundred. I’ve learned shit they didn’t teach a brotha in college, like a woman’s clit have legs underneath the hood.” Confidently, he said, “Yeah, I wanna make you walk and talk at the same damn time.”
What?
My morals said,
I should exit.
My desires dictated me to stay. As I watched him stand at the kitchen counter preparing two vodka martinis, my heart rate increased. Two barstools faced him. I opted to sit on the black leather sofa. It was firm, yet soft. Spencer handed me a drink, then sat beside me.
“A toast. To a beautiful sexy
woman.
You make fifty fabulous. That’s what I’m going to call you. Fabulous.”
No man had given me that nickname. “I like it.”
“I like you,” he replied, taking a swig from his martini. He set his drink on a mirrored coaster on the black coffee table with silver mirrored trim. His hand traveled under my red dress, caressed my inner thigh, then slid down to my calf.
“Lay back. Relax.”
As he propped a black-and-blue pillow behind my back, I held on to my cocktail.
Spencer removed one of my shoes then the other. I let him. He scooted over, lifted my foot, placed it in his lap. My heel touched his dick. Opening a drawer under the coffee table, he retrieved a small bottle of baby oil, greased his palms. His strong hands massaged my ankle, arch, and toes.
I smiled.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“What?”
“Yes, it’s a warming drawer. I like to keep my oil heated at all times.”
He’d answered my thought.
Lawd, please don’t let this man connect with my daughter.
This was a first. No man who I’d met had pampered me like this. Not this soon. This youngster might know more about sex than I imagined.
“So what’s your story?” I asked. “Why aren’t you attracted to women your age?”
Soon as I’d said that, I wished I hadn’t.
Blake Crystal you sure know how to mess up a good mood.
He changed his voice. “It ain’t cool being no jive turkey so close to Thanksgiving.”
I frowned. “What?”
He stopped rubbing my toes. “Please do not tell me you haven’t seen
Trading Places
. Please.”
“Actually, I haven’t.” Was I wrong for that?
“Don’t make me have to put you out,” he said jokingly. Resuming my massage, Spencer shook his head. “Never said I wasn’t attracted to women my age. It’s just that I’m not usually fascinated by anyone.” Looking into my eyes, he continued, “But we have sick chemistry that’s undeniable. Do you know the major difference between mature and younger women?” he asked.
The olive in my mouth tasted like the fried chicken I loved at the Cheesecake Bistro at Atlantic Station. I was starving but food could wait. I had plans of feasting on this gorgeous young man. He was right. I couldn’t deny my sexual attraction.
I heard the chiming sound of a text message registering on my phone. I dug into my purse, got my cell.
Sandara’s text read,
Ty mama 4 always taking care of us.
A picture of my three grandbabies was attached. They were seated at the dining table. Each made an X with their chopsticks. Their plates were filled with chow mein, salt-n-pepper prawns, spare ribs, salmon, and broccoli beef. I showed Spencer the photo. “These are my grandbabies.”
Frowning, he asked, “They all have the same mom?”
“Yes.”
“Which one of your daughters? The dark one that looks exactly like you?”
He seemed a bit too concerned for my liking. The only one who had my complexion was Alexis and why was he pretending not to know her name.
“No,” was all I said.
“That’s what’s up. Family first. I like that.”
I wanted to say, “I like you and your ass had better not go there with my daughter.” Instead I replied, “You have any kids?”
Shaking his head, he said, “Not ready for that level.”
I tried to shift mental gears from dwelling on if he liked Alexis more.
Spencer stared into my eyes. “The world won’t miss us for a few hours.” Taking my cell, he placed it on the coffee table. “Live in this moment with me, Fabulous.”
I let him take my phone because I enjoyed the way he took the initiative. I should’ve skipped drink number four. Even if my count wasn’t right this younger man was what I needed. I convinced myself if I sipped slowly, I’d be done in an hour with both my martini and this gorgeous man. My pussy twitched causing me to shiver.
“Everything chill?” he asked.
“So what’s the difference?” I was curious.
“Why don’t I show you in the shower.”
Maybe he did expect something for his two hundred dollars since he hadn’t inquired as to what I’d bought. I closed my eyes. There was no denying I wanted this man sexually but to give myself to someone probably two decades my junior was out of character for me. His mother could be my age. She could be my customer. I was the president of a bank. Regardless of where a person opened an account, all of our customers were considered mine.
My cell rang. His picture appeared. It was Fortune. Again. Maybe his calling was my awakening to take my fifty-year-old ass home.
And do what? Sit on the sofa by myself and watch the housewives? Let Fortune back in and listen to him talk to me as though he knew everything and I knew nothing?
This time Spencer picked up my cell, powered it off, then placed it in my hand. “I’ll start. You decide if you want to join me. We can do this now. Or we can do this later. But you know I’m going to make love to you,” he said, exiting the living room.
CHAPTER 17
Blake
 
 
 
L
eave his apartment or stay? Sit on the sofa until he comes back? Take a shower with him?
I tossed my phone in my purse, untied my halter, removed my dress and panties. Placed them one on top of the other on the back of his couch. Exhaling, I picked up my drink, swallowed a mouthful of vodka, placed the empty glass on the mirrored coaster, then entered his bedroom.
Standing in the doorway of his bathroom, seeing the silhouette of his body made my heart race with lust. His ass sat high. His dick hung low. Spencer opened the glass door and extended his hand.
“Wow. You are so beautiful . . . to me,” he said.
His words made me feel desirable.
Spencer said, “Younger women want to fuck to impress. Mature women want to be sexed . . . real good. All women want to be loved.” He paused, then continued, “I got you, Fabulous.”
Sometimes all a woman needed was a man who cared enough to take his time, treat her like an angel, and Spencer was on point with me when he said, “Mature women want to be sexed . . . real good.”
That was what I’d come here for.
CHAPTER 18
Spencer
 
 
 
“F
abulous,” I whispered. “Don’t do anything you don’t want. But if we’re going to make love”—I paused, tilted her chin upward, stared into her eyes, then continued—“I want you here with me. It’ll feel better. Can you do that? For us.”
Nodding, she cried, covered her face, then turned her back to me. She let the shower wash away her tears.
“Why are you crying?” I asked.
Her voice trembled. “I, I barely know you.”
I could dismiss her emotions as her being on that premenopausal flotation or she might be one of those females longing for a man to show her some love. What I was feeling wasn’t that deep but I knew how to romance a woman with my sexy tone.
“You want this dick?”
Giving her a moment to respond, I soaped my hands with body wash, then squeezed her shoulders. My shit pointed straight up. I stepped closer. She shivered when my hard dick touched her spine. My six-two frame had a solid seven inches over her.
Fabulous was what I wanted. Maybe just for this moment. Maybe not. Depended on how the night went. I bet that Alexis would’ve taken charge. I liked a woman that took control like Charlotte. Make that a need. Passive chicks were cool but they couldn’t hold my attention.
She whispered, “Yes,” but didn’t move. Seemed as though she was mentally on some other page.
Repositioning myself in front of her, I said, “Let’s see if this can help you to stay focused.” I squatted, parted that sweet labia majora, closed my eyes. I teased her shaft. The tip of my tongue flicked on her clit.
She cupped her breasts. “Oh, my, God,” she said, grabbing my head.
That was chill. I stared up at her. “I knew you’d taste good but you have no idea how delicious your pussy is. Happy birthday, Blake.”
Standing before her, I penetrated her with my finger, then stroked her G-spot. Removing my finger, I slipped it into her mouth. What the water didn’t wash away, I asked her to, “Swallow,” then softly said, “Told you.”
Squatting again, I smothered her lips one kiss after another.
“Ohhhh!” she screamed when I gently clamped her clit between my teeth.
She pushed my head away. It probably hurt a little but if we were going to have great sex, I had to challenge Fabulous outside of her comfort zone.
I stood, turned off the water, then told her, “Come with me.” Escorting her, I motioned for her to sit on the edge of my king-size bed.
Fabulous stared at my dick, then waited for . . . I had no idea why my dick wasn’t in her mouth. Okay, chill. I took charge.
Walking to my oversize black leather chair in the corner, I nodded toward the seat. “Over here, bitch, right now.”
She frowned.
“Don’t make me come get your ass.”
Slowly, she approached. Firmly, I grabbed her hips, faced her toward the chair, pushed between her shoulder blades.
“On your knees, bitch,” I said in a commanding tone. “You gon’ take this birthday dick. All of it.”
I thought about the chocolate cheesecake in my fridge. I could get it and spread it all over her pussy, drizzle hot oil on her back, and eat her ass out from behind. She probably never had a dude do that.
She leaned back. I shoved her forward. Slapped her ass with this dick. “I said, on your fucking knees, bitch. Don’t make me ask again.”
If she were offended, she would’ve left by now, but I knew what she wanted. Kneeling on the chair, she braced her forearms on the top. Her titties leaned against the leather.
Sternly, I told her, “Back this sweet pussy up, place your knees on the edge.”
Fabulous wasn’t moving fast enough. I snatched her hips in my direction, shoved the crown of her head into the seat. She didn’t protest when her chin parted her breasts.
“That’s my gurl.”
I spread her cheeks. Let my tongue glide against her tight asshole. The tip of my tongue stretched to her clit, then to the inner left side of her pussy lips where most women had that sensitive spot. I revisited that asshole.
Smack! I slapped her ass. “Say something, bitch, you too quiet.”
“I have to make it to church to repent for this or I’m going straight to hell. I’m sure of it.”
“On second thought. Shut the fuck up!”
CHAPTER 19
Blake
 
 
 
G
oing from an old man who wasn’t comfortable saying the word
pussy
to a youngster calling me a bitch was a major turn-on.
I felt his finger penetrate my pussy. Pressing down, he circled my G-spot. Alternating the pressure against my now-plump tissue, his other hand played with my clit. He massaged my engorged shaft.
“Relax. You familiar with Lamaze?” he asked.
What in the hell?
I said, “Yes.”
“Then breathe like you’re giving birth to my baby.”
I started doing quick, sharp breaths in and out of my mouth. Instantly, I got a pleasure rush all over my body. Rotating my hips, I began riding his finger like it was his dick. I felt my pussy throbbing.
“Fuck me!” I yelled. “Faster!”
Lightly touching my lower back, Spencer said, “Fabulous. Relax. Let me do my job. I’m not letting up and I’m not letting you up but you need to chill.”
I slowed my breathing. I was so wet I wanted to slam him to the floor, take control.
He rubbed his dick on my pussy, put the head in, then quickly pulled out. In. Out. Slow. In. Out. Fast. All I felt was the head. I thrust my hips toward him while he placed his hand on my ass.
“Fabulous,” he whispered. “I told you. I got you. Let me make the sweetest love to you.”
Now I wanted to cry. My pussy was on the verge of exploding. Containing myself in the heat of the moment heightened my internal awareness.
What he’d done next made me pause. My ears perked. I lifted my head. Doggie-style never felt this damn amazing.
Whispering in my ear, he said, “Yeah, I just made your pussy whistle,” then he lowered the top of my head back toward the leather cushion. “Bitch, move again without my permission and I’m going to put this dick in your ass.”
Short, shallow breaths in and out my nose as though I was sniffling accompanied a desire for him to put it in my ass. Did I want a dick in my ass? Or not? His eargasm made my pussy juices flow. I moved my head side to side about an inch in opposite directions.
Damn!
Best to keep still.
Spencer’s finger massaged my G-spot. Removing his finger, he slid his dick all the way in. Out. Back in with his finger, massaging my G-spot. I knew I should’ve insisted on a condom but I didn’t have one. The pleasure of his flesh inside of mine made me crave all of him. Bare. But there were reasons to be responsible.
Spencer whispered, “The world can wait, Fabulous. Don’t make my shit go soft.”
His finger eased out of my vagina and his dick traded places. He pulled my back to his chest. Slowly. Gradually. He gave me more and more of himself until his head was so deep inside of me it couldn’t go any deeper.
His right hand cupped my breasts, then he pinched my nipples. His left played with my clit. At first it was gentle. Then he started applying pressure to the point of pain.
I covered his hands with mine. “Ease up, please.”
“Lamaze,” he insisted, not relinquishing the intensity.
Short, shallow, in and out my mouth. “I can’t take any more.”
He ignored me. Fucked me fast and hard with dick jabs like he was going straight for the knockout, not the technical.
“Damn, Fabulous. Your pussy is the shit. I’m about to go into the zone,” he said as he started twirling my clit hard.
“Ow!” I didn’t know which one hurt more, my nipple or my clit but his dick-head jabs gave me excruciating pleasure. Back and forth deeper and deeper he thrust. A minute later he pulled out fast and let go of my tit and clit at the same time.
What in the hell!
Instinctively, I pushed like I was giving birth to his baby. My pussy juices splashed against his leather chair like I was pissing on myself. I screamed, “Oh, my, God.”
“Push harder, Fabulous. That’s a good girl. Push it all out.” Spencer held me until my fluids finished flowing. I knew what squirting was but this was my first time. Not sure if I can handle a second, I collapsed in his arms.
“Good job, Fabulous,” he said, kissing the nape of my neck. He escorted me to his bed. “Lay down while I clean this up.”
I eased into bed, laid my head on his pillow. He raised covers to my shoulders. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed but I was sure I couldn’t make it to the living room where I’d left my clothes and shoes.
After cleaning up the chair and his hardwood floor, Spencer lowered the sheets, wiped a warm towel between my thighs, then covered me back up. He tossed the wet rag onto his end table.
Getting into bed, he pressed his chest to my back. This time the head and shaft weren’t firm. I felt his breath on the nape of my neck.
“Happy birthday, Fabulous,” he said, hugging my waist.
I covered Spencer’s hand with mine, then I closed my eyes.
BOOK: Baby, You're the Best
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