Page 22 of Impacted by Love

Play slip and slide over your dick.

Onesti Michelle Jeffries!

I feel like I'm in a round of good girl versus bad girl when the warring thoughts invade my mind, causing me to hang my head. My current thoughts are far from a woman who has any church affiliation, making me feel the momentary chastising echoing over the sexually starving vixen within me.

Girl, please. You know, some of the biggest freaks shout during morning worship only to spend that night cracking the foundation of Hell. God is just to forgive. After all, He gave you?—

Okay, you're going too far.

"Are you with me, Onesti?" Asaiah asks, snapping me out of the internal debate between good and evil lurking within me.

"Yes. I don't know. Why don't you answer first?"

"Hm. Let's see. If I could be anywhere, it wouldn't be on the set of this horrible rendition of foreplay this man is attempting. The woman in the scene is disengaged regardless of the effort she's faking to make his actions believable."

Intrigue hits me, causing me to sit up straighter while muting my TV so I can focus on this conversation versus what Daphne and the gang are doing.

"What would you do differently?" I ask breathlessly, unable to mask the moment from the heavy sexual energy enveloping the conversation.

Maybe I’m playing with fire, but I'm out here now, so I might as well keep going, because the shift in this dialogue is the most exciting thing I've had in a long time with someone of the opposite sex.

"For starters, I wouldn't treat the woman's pearl like I didn't learn to savor exotic tastes with which I've been fortunate enough to saturate my palette. With precision and utmost care, I would allow my tongue to slowly enter her moist center by slurping, licking, and drinking the rapidly falling nectar. I?—"

Asaiah's words hit my clit like a target on a dartboard, causing me to squirm. The talk of flowing juices has mine increasing, and I cup my outer lips to stop the steady thrumming happening without my permission.

"I-I… Asaiah, I'm not sure if this is the conversation I need to be having right now," I mummer, closing my eyes despite Asaiah's inability to see me.

"I don't mind demonstrating with you."

Wait, what?

* * *

"I know you ain't considering meeting up with that man after only knowing him three to four business days," Jarielle says.

This is the first time I have talked to Jarielle about Asaiah, but I have been sitting in my bed like a deer caught in headlights for far too long since talking to him. Replaying our conversation and analyzing the things spoken has been the cause of my present predicament.

"I… uh?—"

"What haven't you left out of this conversation? I've known you too long to accept the sudden delay in your rational thinking. Several run-ins and a handsome person don't equate to promises of demonstrating something you have no confirmation of. Even though you said he hasn't been the most receptive man, what about him, other than your thirsty cootie-coo, would have you willing to walk on the wild side? Hell, you're a God-fearing educated wo?—"

"Leave God out of this because I'm hoping he'll forgive me should I let that man play a game ofits hidden but ready for you to seek."

"Tuh. What if he's another?—"

"If you plan to continue being my favorite bestie, I suggest you not say that name."

Heat dances on the tips of my earlobes, and my blood pressure spikes at the thought of the man whose dick I'd love to shred in a meat grinder. Being hit with that level of unexpected betrayal is why I'm only on social media for ten-minute intervals. I've also put my vagina in sexual timeout, hoping that being dormant will re-establish the virginity I lost in my early teens.

"Okay. Look, Onesti. I'm not trying to block your orgasms or keep you from a potential toe-curling opportunity. However, let's be logical here. What can this man possibly have to offer you but a wet ass? You don't know him even after a couple of encounters and two phone conversations. I let the last fool play with your heart, but no more. Are you prepared for me to spend Saturdays braiding Stankeisha's no-line three strings instead of brunch with you?"

"Who is Sta—what are you talking about, Jarielle?" My forehead wrinkles, and a frown forms while I try to decipher the code she's attempting to speak in.

"The big bitch whose ass I had to beat up my first week in the prison yard. Her ass now pays me to maintain the thread-like patches of hair she won't let the female barber cut off."

"Wow. This shit is getting good. What's that ho looking like in the face, bae?" Brent's voice sounds in the background, alerting me of his presence for the first time since Jarielle and I had begun talking.

"Tragedies and repercussions. You wouldn't find her attractive, baby," Jarielle says to Brent, inciting my laughter from the dejection in theohcoming from Brent.

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