Page 47 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Without hesitation, her heels carried her to my front, and she plopped down in a squat. I wasn’t a fan of her perfume; the scentwas too strong, in my opinion, and better suited for evening wear, but I wasn’t here to smell her. I’d already done enough smelling at Dasani’s Sniff-and-Sip to last me a month. I was here to bust a nut, and Uriah was one of the best to make sure that happened.
As she undid my zipper with precision, I reached into my pocket to remove my two phones, money, and wallet. By the time I had it all resting on the dresser, my dick had been spit on and was now being jerked.
“Stop playing with it, Uriah. Let that muthafucka meet your tonsils.”
Her sleek eyes were lined in black, giving them a more catlike effect than they naturally were, and her face had been made up as if a professional makeup artist had done it. She didn’t know it yet, but she would be riding dick till her knees were sore. The last time she came over, I had her face in the mattress as I beat her shit in from the back. My housekeeper couldn’t get all of the Fenty and Maybelline products out of my fucking sheets. To anyone else, that wouldn’t have been an issue, but I invested my coins in quality bedding. I wasn’t willing to risk her fucking up anymore of my good linen, especially since the set on this guest bed didn’t ship here anymore because of those damn tariffs.
Opening her mouth, I bit down on my bottom lip as her warm tongue lapped up the precum as if it were icing on a cake. I felt her relax her throat as she tried her best to get my dick as far down her throat as she could. I appreciated her attempt to do as I asked. It was one of the reasons she was on call. The other reason: Uriah’s mouth was a fucking vacuum. The pussy? I’d had better, but it was wet and warm enough. That throat, though? Her throat was the reason why she was my one call. I’d never been interested in having a slew of women. I didn’t have time for the shit. Only bedding one woman often gave her the inkling that she was the end game. Luckily for Uriah, she knew what itwas. I didn’t have a potential wife as of now, but I did have a fucking eater at my disposal, and at this moment, I was feeling good about that.
Her makeup was still in place even though she was making a sloppy mess on my shit. I liked it that way, and she was proving how well she’d learned me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I watched her swallow me up like her favorite popsicle. Sucking and slurping sounds filled the room, and I was sure that if one had good enough hearing, they would be able to hear the sound of my toes cracking in these hot-ass Timberland boots. The only reason I’d even worn them today was in case I had to put my foot upside Hobo’s head. Luckily for him, he was a bitch-made nigga that chose the safer route.
Normally, I watched Uriah do her thing, but in order not to nut, I looked straight ahead at the closed door of the en suite bathroom. Depending on how I felt, I would take Uriah down in the shower. I hadn’t done it yet because I didn’t want to cross any lines that would confuse her on what this shit was. I wasn’t one to play any games, and my intent was always forefront. I told women exactly what I could offer them, and to most, it wasn’t much. I didn’t disrespect women, nor did I use them. They provided a service, and I provided compensation. I didn’t hold conversations over the phone because, again, my life wasn’t set up to be sociable right now. Even if I could, Uriah wouldn’t even be in the lineup of potential companions. Yes, she was fine as fuck and the sex was decent, but nah. I was cool on her outside of her making my dick throw up.
Popping my dick out of her mouth, she kissed the tip, making chills cover my body before putting it back to its temporary home—her deep ass throat. If I had to call it, her dick sucking skills were the reason why she’d gotten a ring out of her ex-husband. I didn’t fuck married women, nor did I fuck taken women. The only reason Uriah had been able to even get aglimpse of the dick was because the day we met, she’d just finalized her divorce. Unfortunately for her, that was also the reason she couldn’t be anything more than my bedmate. To the mob, she wasn’t worth enough to be a wife. In my eyes, though, I’d marry any fucking body I felt like it and dared the mob to speak on it. But Uriah wasn’t someone I saw myself being tied to, so regardless of the circumstance, the only vow she was getting from me was the vow to pay her for her time.
With my hand planted on the wooden dresser, I looked down at Uriah, whose lashes were now resting on her cheeks. When she closed her eyes, that meant she was really locked in, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she was making my dick spit up. I never gave her the chance to swallow, though. I didn’t want a woman consuming my DNA on any level if she wasn’t to be tied to me indefinitely.
Reaching behind the mirror mounted to the dresser, I removed the gun that was taped there and pointed it at the bathroom door as it was opening. A gasp filled the air as the unwanted guest threw their hands up. Steam surrounded the silhouette, but I couldn’t see through the fog clearly. Once I could, my dick betrayed me and grew longer. Perfectly crafted curves were revealed as the towel fell from shielding the body that had to belong to a woman. Uriah wasn’t expecting my growth and began choking. Only then did she open her eyes, and seeing the gun pointing toward the bathroom caused her to stop.
“Aht, aht. Keep sucking. I’m almost there,” I informed her without looking down.
Like the obedient little housewife she'd been portraying for the last ten years, she closed her eyes and kept doing what the fuck she was called here to do. Getting my dick gobbled while catching someone breaking and entering wasn’t on my list of things to do today, but here we were. Instead of focusing onthe hardened nipples of the body of the woman I’d identified, I locked eyes with her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
When Samuel called about the female companion, I should have known I was right about already adding Uriah to the guest list.There were so many other questions I had, like how she even got inside, but even a badass kid could pick a lock. Still, something told me she didn’t do it herself. She had help getting inside my crib. Granted, I was the one who gave her access, but she was not on my list of tasks for today. The final task was currently on her knees, so I was puzzled as I stared at the naked intruder.
The scent from the Olay soap and eucalyptus oils I kept in all the bathrooms lingered in the air. Uriah must’ve caught the scent, too, because she started bobbing her head faster. Tucking my bottom lip in between my teeth, I held my nut. I needed answers more than I needed to come.
“Mi padre me envió aquí?—”
“Aht, aht.” I waved the gun, making her stumble back with wide eyes.
Her breast dribbled, making my dick expand further down Uriah’s throat. Not many could handle him when he reached his full potential, and the way she was gagging and smearing all of her makeup now was proof she was struggling.
“Me no speak no Espanol today. English… before I send you back across the water with a hole in your head and in a pine box.” My voice was strained from me fighting a nut, but I know she heard me because her round, brown eyes looked down at Uriah doing her thing.
“Eyes up here!”
She shifted her eyes back to my face, her wet lashes long and full. “Mi padre?—”
“Fuck! Turn around,” I shouted out.
Uriah had tightened her jaws as if to pull my attention away from our visitor. I couldn’t do that as I watched her spin, doing a one-eighty. Her dimpled ass didn’t make shit no better, and I swallowed the moisture that had accumulated in my mouth.
“Pick! Pick up the fucking towel!”
Without bending her knees, she snatched the towel from the floor, and the gap in between her thighs gave me a peek of her fat pussy lips. I kept my gun pointed toward the woman while looking down at Uriah. Her eyes were glossy from all the deep throating she was doing. Pulling my dick from her throat, I sat it on her left cheek and watched as it erupted all over her eyelash and forehead. My chest was pounding hard as fuck as I released. I’d had a lot of nuts, but this one was going down in the history books.
“Here.”
I picked up the money from the dresser, not caring how much it was, and handed it to Uriah. She stood to her full height while I opened the dresser with my free hand, pulled out a T-shirt, and pressed it against Uriah’s face. Once I was sure I’d gotten all of my DNA off of her, while taking half of her foundation too, I jutted my chin toward the door. I could see little Miss Break-in shaking in her towel, face forward, while the big-ass pink shower cap sagged on the back of her head.
“Um, would you like me to wait in the other room?”
Focusing back on Uriah, I watched as she pulled the trench coat back over her shoulders and stuffed the money into the pocket of her coat. I’d probably given her more than I should have, but I needed her to leave.
“Nah. You can leave. I’ll hit you up.” I left it at that.
