She had me right where she wanted. It had been several months since my last fix and the withdrawal symptoms were more than I could bear. What other excuse could I give for racing down I-20 at 1 AM in the dead of night? There wasn’t. Her drug was addictive. All I knew is that I needed to feel better. Her love had an uncanny knack for making me whole. Even when I was broken into pieces, the touch of her tongue reignited my soul. My mind knew this dependency would sooner or later be the death of me. I was constantly living on the edge. As the speedometer increased to triple digits, my imagination was hijacked by previous encounters . . . . .
A million days had passed since the last time I breathed Nichole. Our decade of friendship was lost. Carnal pleasure became more than our bond. I yearned to merge both worlds but that could never be. Her purpose was clear. We could never discuss what happened in between the four walls of her chamber. It would be too much like right. We had to pretend that the copulation never took place. Despite our denial, the sex was everything we both wanted. Everything we both needed. My undoing (according to her) was that I knew all of her flaws. I knew her morbid history. Still, I desired to love her.
I stood on the sidelines like a simp as other men attempted to play my position. Even though they would make the team, they could never be me. My exile never lasted long as I would be summoned to come off the bench. I didn’t know why it was me that she called every time. I believed that it was because she loved me, but those three words were never uttered. Instead, a Ne-Yo playlist would be the only words to fill the atmosphere as I submitted to her cravings. She would motion me to the bed and have me disrobe while she sat in the corner . . . . watching. . . . waiting. I would close my eyes in expectancy of her touch. Each start was different but the ending was always beautiful.
Nichole lived to have me in her mouth. I would lay in sweet submission as she relieved me of all of my stress. Nichole was skilled and sensual. She enjoyed the therapy more than I did receiving. She hummed along to each song as she bathed my soul over and over. I was helpless as to when I could finish. Nichole controlled me. All of me. And at the beginning of our midnight escapades, that’s all she requested. She didn’t want me to return the favor. Nichole reveled in how she was able to make my body convulse uncontrollably before going limp. She would touch herself as she rubbed her breast with my offering.
Then that last night, we went too far. My replacement had left her for his baby momma and I was summoned yet again. When I walked into the boudoir, our normal soundtrack was replaced with candles and Xscape confessing that Nichole was the softest place on Earth. Our session started off the same but after several minutes, she disrobed feverishly and mounted me. I was in shock as she took me in . . . . slowly, inch by inch. She trembled as she commenced her trot. I beheld the beauty that was her chest. I immersed myself in heaven as she took every part of me continually. I could feel her walls burst as her sweetness fell beneath my shaft. Her moans transformed into screams as she started to slow wine. She muffled her cries with her lip so that she wouldn’t wake her daughter down the hall.
I grabbed her waist and focused my strength into each stroke. She was on the brink of waking the neighbors as well as the house! She shook her head as she attempted to regain control. When she was no longer able, Nichole quickly buried her face in the pillow beside me and let go. Her soul wanted more although her legs could no longer support her weight. I gently laid Nichole on her side and held her, kissing the small of her neck and everywhere in between. Her breaths were deep as if she had gone without for years.
As we laid there in that moment, I envisioned us together. We seemed to be made for each other but Nichole refused to see what I saw. Yet, I continued to believe that she would. I wrestled with telling her how I felt but I had been down this road before. Instead of getting caught up in what could be, I regained focus on the present. As she laid on her side, I rose to a kneeling position and went in for the kill. The way she felt around me, I never wanted it to end. Her walls continued to give way as I attempted to make a case for being hired permanently. She grabbed the pillow and put it over her face. As the tempo increased, I could feel myself giving over to her will. The more she cried, the more it turned me on. After a few more strokes. Nichole’s hip and backside was saturated in my endowment.
I fell off to the side feeling that I had solidified my place in her heart. After a few moments to breathe, I rose to complete my bathroom routine before making my exit. After cleaning her off, Nichole said something that troubled me on my way back home:
“We can never do this again”
“The agreement was that I give you head. That’s all. You broke the rules tonight”
“Wait a minute? You called me! You had the candles going! You climbed on top of me!”
“Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have. I’m still trying to work it out with dude”
And just like that, my heart was crushed yet again. I shook my head in agreement and proceeded out the door. As much as I wanted to be angry, I couldn’t get over what just happened. It was more than I ever imagined. I had daydreamed about it, sure, but the reality far exceeded the fantasy! For Nichole, it was far more real than she would let on. . . . . .
As I pulled up to the side of her house, my mind came back into focus. I sent a text to Nichole to let her know that I was outside. After a few minutes, she opened the door and signaled me to come in. My heart began to race. Before I exited the car, I told myself that I was going to tell her tonight. I no longer wanted to be a secret. I wanted to be more than just the side dish. I made my way back to her world again. I could hear Maxwell serenading in the background. As she closed the door, all she had on was a smile. She began to help me undress as she kissed me passionately. She whispered in my ear that her daughter wasn’t home. My heart raced faster than before. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Will you marry me?“
Written by Michael Dock, Founder of the Wednesday Gentleman and author of the forthcoming novel, “Addicted to Chaos”