ARE YOU FREAKY DEAKY BOOK II

10. Cheesecake

I sucked on his asshole until all the cheesecake melted down my throat. I smacked my lips, standing up . I asked him to "Fuck me in the ass, baby."

"Thought you would never ask."

Wiping cheesecake on his dick he slid up in my ass, without a condom, and fucked me good and long. He bounced up and down in my ass, the eather chair wet from our sweat. We were sliding all over it.

He pulled my face back to his and kissed me, grinding that good dick in my ass, trying to recreate what my fingers did to his. I felt sensational.

I threw that booty back, the popping
and squishy sounds filling my ears. I was turned on.

I sweated so badly it got in my eyes and I couldn't see. This Niggah fucked me so good I began coming all over myself.

He felt my asshole throbbing.

He spread my ass cheeks, got up in there and just went to town.

Before long he pulled out, stood up over me and came poured down all over my hair, neck, face, lips, ass and thighs.

"Oh shit, bitch. Oh, shit."

And he lay down on the chair and fell asleep.

Holding me tightly to him.

With his dick deep in my ass.

💋💋💋💋💋

And now I was home, back in Miami, reading Rollingstone magazine with Led Zeppelin on the cover.

I smiled, thinking about Janet, New York and the sex I had.

I got a text message. I picked up my cell phone.

I smiled.

Meet me in the trap.
It's going down.

I sent a reply.

Nigga, I'm back home
In Miami.

He sent another one back.

I know.
I'm on the plane headed
for Miami right now.
Pick me up at the airport.

I smiled really big, dropping the phone and spent thirty minutes speed cleaning my house, washing my clothes and calling in to work.

"I won't be in today. Hold over in Georgia. Gotta wait three hours for the next flight. I know you want me at work. But I can't control the airlines. They had a bomb scare...uh yea, Boss!
You didn't see the news. Oh, ok, I'll call when the plane lands in Miami."

Click.

I hated lying, but Dick was on a plane
coming to see me. He was in for the time of his life.

I hopped in my black Impala and hotrod up the block, signaling right onto 4th Street. A yellow cab passed me, going up my block.

I did 85 MPH to the Florida Turnpike, heading for the Miami International Airport.