Taking Another Man’s Wife Act II

“Are you fucking her?”

“Excuse me.”

“You heard me, are you fucking her!”

“That’s not any of your business, you have a husband. Worry about who he’s fucking.”

“I don’t have to worry about who he’s fucking, I gave him some this morning so he’s good.”

That was two hours ago, he hung up right after that and she’d been calling ever since. The last time he looked at his phone it was twenty missed calls. She only said it to hurt him; he knew that much, but what he also knew is that she was probably telling the truth.

What kind of right did he have to get mad at a woman for having sex with her husband? That was just as stupid as her getting mad at a woman posting about how good a time she’d had on his Facebook wall. The text started ten minutes after she’d wrote, “I had a great time last night, can’t wait to do it again.” The calls started five minutes after he responded, “The feelings mutual, you looked amazing last night, I needed that.” Nothing sexual happened, it just felt good to him being able to hold a conversation and kiss a woman good night knowing there was no one else in her life.

But she didn’t see it that way. Call it jealousy, call it insecurity, call it crazy. She just didn’t understand why he needed to go out with other women!

He wanted to turn his phone off but his grandfather was in the hospital and in case someone needed him he needed to have his phone on. She’d long ago filled his voicemail up, the messages went from, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” to “fuck you, if you can’t answer me, I’ll just call my husband to come home early from work.” Every insult was followed by an apology, every hateful word was followed by a lustful counter.

Washing his truck, the headphones drowning out everything around him he jumped when he felt the cold water hit his back. Turning around she was standing there holding the water hose. He started walking towards her when he saw the little boy in the car seat in the back; he looked just like his father. She sprayed him with the water hose again, this time in the face. He walked over and snatched it out her hand. “You can’t answer your fucking phone!” She said, loud enough for her son to hear though at his age he wasn’t sure if the boy understood his mom was a damn fool.

“What are you doing here? You have a bad habit of stopping by uninvited.”

She stepped closer, “You didn’t have a problem with me coming by uninvited when you were inside of me last night.” “You shouldn’t have brought his son over here like this,” he didn’t want to stare at the child but he couldn’t help feel guilty. “He’s a baby, he doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know his mother is over to her boyfriend’s house trying to apologize for being a bitch.” She tried to hug him but he stepped back. Kids had more sense than parents gave them credit for. “You need to leave.” He started back washing his car, he shouldn’t have turned his back to her. He didn’t know where it came from but as soon as he looked up the passenger side window on his truck shattered. Her baby was screaming in the back seat but she didn’t drop the tire iron that was in her hand. “I swear to God if you see that bitch again or ignore me the next time it won’t be your window I aim for.” She got in her car and calmly pulled off.

Chocolate Dreams and Nightmares

The lights off, the fan spinning overhead, the tress speaking outside my window. I can taste the chocolate on your skin. The wetness of it, the sweet flavor, the stickiness on the tip of my tongue, it’s all I taste.

The chill bumps on your thighs from the cold strawberries, the way you giggle when the juices fall in-between the crack of your ass. The way you suck the whipped cream off your finger showing me a prelude of things to come. You love putting on a show, you love performing. Sliding your tongue across your lips, the dark syrup dripping down your chin, you love it when I watch. “Lick it off” you tell me, “Don’t be scared” you say as you trace a chocolate trail for me to follow from your collarbone to your bellybutton to the spot no one gets to see but me.

Touching you feels amazing.

Your skin is soft and vibrant, moist and lickable.

You eyes are warm and flirty, there’s sexiness, love and nastiness in those eyes all at the same time.

Your body is a portrait, a canvas and my tongue and fingers are the paint brush. Sticking two fingers in the bowl of syrup I trace a circle around your most sensitive button. When I touch it you moan, when I flick it your legs open wider, when I lick it you scream my name as if I’m the only man that has ever brought you this sort of pleasure.




You cum hard. Really hard! You pull me until I’m on my back, your lips wrapped around by. The syrup in the palm of your hand, your hand wrapped around my nature. Once the chocolate is soaked in, you treat it like it’s an ice cream cone.

One long lick up the cone.

One long lick down the cone.

Our eyes never close, I never stop watching you bring me pleasure. You keep me on the verge of cumming but with every stroke you know my limits. I see in your eyes you enjoy teasing me, enjoy sucking me. You have no intentions of making me cum, you just love the game.

Pulling myself out of your mouth, I kiss you deeply! You lick some syrup off my cheek and sit down.

I wake up… I wake up… You’re not here.

The ceiling fan is blowing, the trees are talking but there’s no syrup, no you. Just dreams and nightmares.

Angelic Nastiness

We’ve all heard of ‘A lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets,’ but I don’t think people realize just how meaningful this saying is. As men we’re conditioned to be leaders, providers, strong in the face of adversity. And for most men the only piece of mind they’ll get will be when he’s with his woman.

For all of my romanticisms about women. The pretty skin and thick hair, the perfect accessories and ladylike diction when she speaks, at the core of what I want most is an Angelic Nastiness. A subtle sexual energy that invades my senses whenever I hear from her or see her. It’s the idea that her ladylike tendencies perfectly balance out with her bedroom desires.

Do you know why I write about women so much? Why men write so many love songs? Why CEO’s are willing to marry women with no prenups and risk half of fortunes?

It’s because at the essence of what makes us great is the freaky shit women do. As much as we love you for the children and support and love and care. We love you just as much for the kissing, sucking, swallowing and riding.
Trading in your slacks, heels and blouse for my t-shirt and jolly ranchers of the floor of my office.

Angelic Nastiness is perfection in motion.

‘Round Two: Her Pleasure His Desire’

The best moments are the moments when she doesn’t know I’m watching. The moments when she’s not trying to be sexy, not trying to arouse me, not trying to be what she naturally is. This morning was amazing, every morning is amazing when she’s motivated. I thought I was dreaming when I woke up to see her mouth on me, her head moving up and down, the thunder and drowning out her moans as she slurped and sucked. I looked at the clock and knew we didn’t have a lot of time and she knew it to because as soon as she felt me moving she climbed on top of me and kissed me before I slid inside of her.

“I need you to make me cum baby, we don’t have a lot of time so hurry up.”

I sat up and grabbed her ass, sucked her nipple and gave her leverage to do her thing. I knew I wouldn’t cum this morning, it always took me forever. But I knew my baby, she’d make it up to me after work.

Whenever I didn’t cum there was always a round two.


My only hope was that we’d have a thunderstorm to accompany us.

Seeing her towel drop, images of her screaming my name, watching her put on her panties. I slid in the room and she saw me in the mirror and smiled.

“Why did you let me put them on if you’re only going to take them off?” I kissed the back of her neck and rubbed her neck, squeezing just enough to excite her.

“Because it’s more fun when I just pull them to the side, you ready for round two?”


Round Two….



“It’s Yours!!!”

“Pull harder!”

“Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!”

I knew he was standing behind me the entire time I was putting on the lotion with that little ass towel on. So when he walked up behind me, his hand around my neck, his lips on my spine. All I wanted was to finish what we started.

Standing up, bent over, my hands on the ground. You would have thought I was getting ready to hike a football.

Panties pulled to the side, my hair wrapped around his left hand, his right hand holding my waist. I loved it when he got like this, when he took control and made me take it. Our love making was amazing, the nights when we lit candles and took our time.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights, he didn’t carry me to the bed and whisper in my ear. He bit the back of my neck and told me to bend over. Now all I could do was enjoy it, the more he moved inside of me, the more of my spots he found the wetter I got.

The more I pushed it back on him. The harder he pushed.

“I love you!”

“My God I love you!”

“I love you so much!”

It was crazy, in my mind I was calm, I was trying to control myself. I hated losing control. But his strokes were causing me to lose control. His strokes were taking me out of my zone so whenever I opened my mouth it wasn’t me I was hearing. The woman talking to him wasn’t me, it was me but it wasn’t….

“Fuck me!”

“I can feel you in my stomach baby!”

“I can feel you!”

He pulled out of me and picked me up, sitting me on the dresser and not slowing down a bit. He loved kissing and so did I so when he kissed me I could feel the vibration pulsate through my body. His back was going to me so scratched up but I didn’t care.

He needed to cum, I could feel how tense he was, how bad he wanted it. How bad he wanted me. I pulled back and rubbed my fingers across his lips.

“It’s yours baby, it’s yours…” I whispered in his ear.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! What are you doing!?”

He licked a trail to my bellybutton and then…..


Round three was about to began!!!

At The Same Damn Time… Consenting Adults

“Puttin on makeup, updatin my Facebook at the same damn time. Gettin ready to see the Lakers lose and get drunk at the same damn time! Ayeeee” She was standing in the bathroom mirror, the trendy song of the hour blasting through the Bose speakers in the living room.

If any one of her associates at her firm could see her now. No bra, no panties, one of my old dress shirts on, to buttons holding those c-cups in place. A half drunken Corona on the sink, curlers in her hand.

They were down 0-2 and she wasn’t going to let me forget about it.

“Watchin Kobe shoot bricks and Bynum pout at the same damn time!” She sat the curlers down and walked into the bedroom laughing like her raps were the funniest thing ever. I was a sore loser and we were playing for high stakes.

If I lose we have to go to the dealership and I put a down payment on her a new car. If I win I get to record us having sex in and around the hot tub in the back yard.

So needless to say her rap was pissing me off but the way her thighs were looking in the shirt and even with half curled hair she had me standing at attention.

“Stop pouting baaaby… Come here, let mama kiss it and make it better.” My resolve was weakening. She got in the bed and got behind me on her knees. With the Crown Black warming my body and the feel of her hands on my chest how the hell was I supposed to be mad?

“Kissing my mans ear and rubbin his dick at the same damn time. Being wet and ready to fuck at the same damn time!” The song changed but the new lyrics she was whispering in my ear deserved a fucking Grammy!

I turned around and she stood up on the bed. I was eye level with my best friend. She tore the shirt open and the two buttons popped.

I’d buy a new shirt.

I could never get tired of seeing her naked, half curled hair and all. “You do know if I let you get this pussy we’ll miss the first half of the Lakers losing right?” She backed away from me and started laughing.

I jumped on the bed and she jumped down and started running. She was screaming running down the hallway! “You have to catch what you want to eat around here!!!”

It was no easy task running through a house in the dark drunk with a hard dick but I caught her and we fell to the floor. The hardwood was cold on her back, I could see the goosebumps so I caught her left nipple in my mouth.

“Baaaby, put it inside of me. I’m coooold.” With every word she bit my lip and licked my tongue. I loved kissing her.

When I pulled my pajama pants down she grabbed my ass and pushed down. It was incredibly wet, incredibly warm.

Fuck the Lakers tonight!

Dear You…

Dear You,

I know to a lot of people today would be considered nasty. The rain, the cold, most of your friends and family on vacation if you have to go to work. But to me today is beautiful, today is perfect for the mood I have. In my world the glass is usually half full and today is no different. When I think about you I think about the glass being half full. I think about us this time next year.

You may be thinking next Christmas is a long time away but you’re wrong beautiful. Think about how fast 2011 has flown by, think about Valentines Day, 4th of July and Easter and how they seemed like they just happened last week.

Time is moving, our lives are moving! And I have faith! Writing and faith!

I won’t say I think of you every morning but I will say I think of you most mornings. There is something in every song that reminds me of some small part of you, there is something in every thing I write that has a small essence of you in it. Fading away doesn’t exist in the world I live in because my imagination has created someone that I’m not even sure exist?

I suppose I’m a man that has options, women aren’t exactly hard to get but what I want more than anything is to not hurt anyone because I still have these morning thoughts of perfection. No one is perfect and putting those expectations on people is only going to have me writing in the morning instead of calling into work and making love to you in the morning.

In my world there is really no black and white, it’s all gray and it’s all waiting and willing to make someone happy. I’m too blessed in this world to ever be sad but the emptiness does get to me at times. I can be man enough to admit that.

Smiles, thighs and engagements

Lips, tongues and sons

Passion, lust and love

Life, you and me

That’s sort of the life I’m about and I promise on everything I am, on every novel I write and on every road I build that I will stop bullshitting and do whatever it takes to open my eyes and make your pretty ass my wife in 2012. I’m actually sorry it’s taken this long.

So enjoy these Holidays with whomever you’re spending them with and just know you will never spend another Holiday alone again.

Sincerly Yours,

Demez F. White

12 Play… Her Plays

Six– Pleasure works both ways, pleasure is control. Pleasure is life in the moment! He was giving me these blasts of pleasure and I was starting to lose control, I couldn’t lose control, not yet. His fingers were moving inside of me at a pace that was breathtaking.

I needed to take back control.

“You’re hard, let see it. Take it out now! I’m going to suck your dick like I’m mad at it!”

Running my hand over the head, feeling the vein running down the side, cupping his balls. My hands were small and I knew he loved that. So I took advantage of it, I made sure he saw my hand moving. No mouth, no jacking him off. Just touching it, rubbing it, teasing it.

Seven– He loved his hair, it was soft, a good grade. Touching it made him smile, when he was eating me, playing in his hair made his tongue flick back and forth faster. His hair was like a remote control and my pussy was the TV.

“Do you want me to suck you dick like I’m mad at it?” My hand was still rubbing the head, his eyes were pleading.

“Yes!” His voice was low.

“If you want me to do that you need to promise me you want stop eating this when I’m about to cum.” My tone was serious, focused. My hand was still wrapped around his dick; my left hand was inside of me. I let him taste my fingers.

His answer was between my legs, his answer was my back against the passenger side door. His answer was my hand in his hair.

Eight- Some nights I liked it when he used his fingers, other nights all I wanted was his tongue. Tonight was a tongue night, a gentle tap on his hand and he knew what I wanted. My moaning urged him on, he loved to hear me moan. His pride was tied to my pleasure, he would be down there all night until he knew I’d cum.

“Don’t stop…. Eat this like you want me to suck your dick. Eat this like you want me to throw this condom out the window!” His voice had been in my ear, teasing me, making me wet. Now my voice was in his head pushing him to do great things with that golden tongue of his.

“I’m cuuuuuuuumiiiing……”

Nine– The smell of sex was thick in the air, his dick was even thicker hanging between the hole of his boxers. He’d done what I’d asked, I’d cum hard and he’d sucked it all up without complaint. I didn’t even want to look at my phone to see what time it was. Pleasure was taking over at the moment.

“Sit up and let your seat back and you better be hard!” His hands were on the steering wheel, I didn’t bother letting my skirt down or putting my breasts back in the proper place. Women didn’t spit so I let me mouth get wet while he was inside of me, the slurping sound thumping throughout the truck.

The harder I sucked, the more he moved in his seat, the wetter I got. The more I moved in my seat. I wanted to taste his cum, I wanted to give him the same feeling with my mouth he gave me with his but I needed it inside of me. The way it grew, the way it pushed against my throat, I needed to feel that. Ride that.

Ten– His seat was already reclined, the windows already fogged, my panties already wet beyond driving home in. They were now on the floor of the passenger side.

“You earned this pussy tonight.” My mouth found his again and straddling him felt like the most natural thing in the world. My hands on the edges of his seat, his hand on my ass, his mouth on my breast. There was no screaming, no words. Just breaths.

The feeling of him inside of me was life and death at the same time.

Life and death at the same time…

Eleven– I looked in his eyes, he looked in my eyes. I slowed down and started to grind, started to feel all the pressure he’d built up. I was supposed to get up, supposed to control the urge to feel him explode inside of me.

But lust doesn’t work like that.

Our bodies didn’t work like that.

Twelve– I love you.