Page 6 of Gotta Jones For Ya
She opened her car door, and I blocked her from gettin’ in. “Stop fuckin’ playin’ wit’ me,” I said low, breath ragged. “You know damn well I’m not one of these regular ass niggas.”
“Yeah, I see that. You’re really cra—” I kissed her hard, and she fought it for two seconds, then melted like I knew she would.Her hand hit my chest, then gripped my Versace shirt. “You piss me off,” she muttered.
“Whatever. I know that pussy wet,” I replied. I yanked her car door open some more, climbed into the driver's seat, and pulled her onto my lap wit’ the door still cracked.
“Keon, what the fuck? Someone could see us!”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
She was cussin’ me out while straddlin’ me. That’s what made it hotter. “You’re fucking crazy, seriously. I should call the cops on you,” she spat, even as she gripped my shirt again wit’ both fists, breath hitchin’.
I reached down and shoved my fingers into her leggings, enjoyin’ that slick heat. She was warm, wet, and her clit was already swollen for a nigga. She gasped and bit her lip. I grinned. “Seems like you mad… but this pussy happy to see a nigga.”
“Shut the… shit…” Her eyes fluttered. “Don’t fucking start…”
“Oh, I’m past startin’, baby. I’m bout toremindyou what the fuck it is.”
She tried to push me back, but I already had my dick out, thick and achin’, before tuggin’ her leggings down. I gripped her by the throat and kissed her open mouth while pullin’ her panties to the side and slippin’ inside her slowly and deeply.
She moaned into my mouth like I’d snatched the soul from her diaphragm. “Fuck…”
“Exactly.”
She tried to lift off me, but I grabbed her hips and locked her down, slid even deeper, balls touchin’. She was soaked, clutchin’ me like her body was tryna apologize for her smart assmouth. “Knuck, don’t…stop.” By now, Nyomi was rockin’ her hips, ridin’ like she wanted to fuck the crazy outta me.
“Youearnedthis dick, remember?” I bounced her harder. Slappin’. Sweaty. Her nails clawed my neck as she rode my dick wit’ rage,tryna punish me wit’ pussy. “Think I won’t fuck you into submission right here?” I growled. “Say some shit I don’t like and I’ma nut in you and take you to meet my fuckin’ grandmama after.”
She gasped—half turned on, half terrified. “You’re a whole psycho.”
I pulled her crop hoodie up over her tits, sucked her left nipple, then popped it out and smacked it just to be petty. “Yeah. A psycho wit’ good dick. Tell the truth.”
She grabbed my face wit' both hands. “Ihatehow good you feel.”
“I know. Now bounce, baby.”
She did. Hard. Fast. Her ass clapped against my thighs, the sound echoin’ in her fogged-up car like porn wit’ no background music. I grunted, gripped her cheeks, slapped them once for control, and her walls clenched around me.
“Oh myGod! Keonnnn!!! I’m cumming!!!” The shit was messy as fuck, but I loved that shit.
Her legs shook as I whispered, “You done?” I whispered.
“No…”
I lifted her up, told her ass to get in the back seat, and arch that fuckin’ back. Quickly bendin’ her over, I spit on her pussy, slid back in, then gripped her ponytail wit' one hand and her waist wit' the other. “Keep playin’ wit’ me, and I’mma shoot the next nigga you out wit’. You hear me?”
“What…? Fuucckkk! Oh, my God…”
I drilled her shit. Stroke for stroke. Long, hard, possessive strokes like I was tryna fuck her back into a relationship that didn’t exist… yet. Her hands clawed the leather. Her voice cracked from moanin’. She came again, loudly. I pulled out and nutted all over her ass wit’ a growl, jaw clenched. We collapsed in a mess of sweat, breaths and curses before she went to fixin’ her hair while I adjusted my clothes, smirkin’.
“You done bein’ mad?” I asked.
“Boy, fuck you,” she said, damn near pushin’ my ass out. “I’m gonna be late for my first client.”
“I’ll write you a note,” I smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “Bye, Keon.”
“You gon’ lemme follow you home?” She slammed the door. I licked two fingers slowly and made a V wit' my tongue between them. “Hit me later. I’ll be here ‘til tomorrow.”
