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"Pharaoh," she exhaled, her words came in a stifled breath as his lips reached hers once more. Not merely a whimper of objection but rather an unspoken plea for more indulgence, a silent entreaty for more; pulling her deeper into him. Impossibly warm, his presence enveloped her, their foreheads melding together in a shared intimacy, Each lingering caress, a testament to his calculated seduction, a mere whisper of his intentions, teasingly grazing against her ear.
it felt all too real, his consciousness regained, his eyes flickered open to a stark reality. No longer nestled in the confines of his car's backseat, she was not straddling him in a haze of desire. Instead, the warmth that enveloped his palm revealed itself to be the clammy embrace of a substance, staining his right hand with an unsettling stickiness.
Pharaoh muttered curses under his breath as he flexed his fingers, observing the viscous substance pooling and trailing along his skin in sticky tendrils. His gaze darted around, searching for the rag he employed to expunge these unwelcome remnants of unsavory moments.
the clock read six am, this is the earliest his mind had ever went to this place of prurience. There was never a vixen in his montage of naughty scenes that went on in his head. Pharaoh only had a body in mind, he took pictures from the raunchy ebony magazines his brother had hidden. The curvy dark skin women in bikinis, bent over or in another lewd position that allowed him to reach his peak.
Pharaoh wasn't a dirty man, His room was spotless, with neatly folded clothes and a breathable environment. Outwardly, he projected an image of pristine orderliness. However, beneath this facade lay a mind brimming with explicit imagery, fueled by a boundless and vivid imagination. While he appeared virtuous on the surface, his inner world was a realm teeming with provocative thoughts and fantasies.
Startled by the abrupt banging on his door, Pharaoh's heart raced with sudden alarm. In a flurry of movement, he hurled the rag, saturated with the sticky substance, across the room in haste. With urgency, he quickly pulled up his crimson pajama bottoms.
"Wake up, Dad needs you. " a voice grumbled, heavy with the remnants of sleep. Pharaoh released a weary sigh,
"It's six in the morning Eden" he grumbled, slowly rising from his bed with reluctance.
" why you telling me? tell that shit to dad." the annoying voice retorted. Pharaoh emitted another grumble as he shuffled toward the door, his tired feet dragging heavily.
He swung the door open, revealing his older brother standing there with a weary expression, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
" What did he say?" Pharaoh questioned as he pushed pass him.
" He just told me to come get you," came the tired response.
Pharaoh sighed in exasperation, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on him. "Alright, I'm coming," he muttered, resigned to his fate.
