Pasha felt her cheeks heat. She wondered if Nairobia knew of her whorish, dick-sucking ways. Wondered if she knew how she’d gotten aroused, so deliciously wet, from plotting the demise of Jasper and his goons—the men who’d fucked her throat raw and held her captive down in a basement for days at the orders of Jasper. Wondered if she knew how she’d fucked her own husband’s cousin as part of some twisted revenge, then carried his seed in her womb, giving birth to his son. And if Nairobia knew all of this, she wondered how the hell she’d found out. Wondered how long she’d known.
Then she thought better of it and said to herself to hell with it. So what if she knew. She owed her nothing but top-of-the line salon service, nothing more, nothing less.
Her personal life was none of her—or anyone else’s—concern.
Yes, she had at one time in her life been compulsive, almost obsessed with giving head—and lots of it. She simply loved dick. Loved sucking it into her wet, silky mouth. Loved the way it hit the back of her throat and pushed past her uvula—her other clit. Loved the feeling of it stretching her neck. Spit and drool splashing out of her mouth while being face-fucked. She loved, loved, loved…sucking dick.
She was able to admit that. She was a cock and cum whore. But, these days, she wasn’t out here sucking dick all reckless; she wasn’t brandishing her dick-sucking skills on random men. Those days were over. That was a part of her past. A past she was devoting her life to, not ever forgetting, but accepting as a consequence of her own choices.
So to hell with what people thought about her. She was rich and fabulous. Had two beautiful children. And had a man in her life who adored her. The only regret she had was marrying Jasper.
But he had given her, her firstborn, Jaylen. And, in spite of everything he’d put her through, she’d walked away from that life with peace of mind knowing justice had been served for everything Jasper had put her through.
And she’d walked away with her life, and…millions.
And there was nothing he could ever do to her again, because he was dead.
So she was happy. Very.
Pasha smiled, then whispered, almost conspiratorial, “Well then. The tramp in me thanks you for the treats. I love the Clit Licker and the Pussy Pounder.”
Nairobia smiled. “Well, it’s simply a small token of my appreciation. Your referral has turned out to be more than I’d ever hoped for.”
Pasha returned the smile. “So, I take it Lamar’s services are working out well.”
Nairobia moaned her approval, seductively sliding a fingernail between her teeth. “Yes, my darling. His services are quite delightful. I find him most…mmm…”
Pasha inhaled. She’d grown fond of Lamar during the six months he’d worked for her, and was forever indebted to him for all he’d done for her during his employ with her. He had been eye candy for the women who’d come into her East Coast salon, but for her, he was more than just a handsomely rugged sexual object. He’d become her lifeline when she’d needed it most.
He was a good man. Loyal. And she knew unequivocally that he would have done anything for her—without word, without question. And he’d proven more times than Pasha could count that he would.
And he had.
A part of Pasha felt guilty for using him the way she had. He’d been simply a pawn, a means to a greater cause. It had been a time in her life when she was desperate to get from under her then husband Jasper’s vicious grasp. Sucking dick had become her obsession while Jasper had been incarcerated—and it had become the root of her troubles with him. She’d become the infamous Deep Throat Diva.
And, as a result, Jasper had proven himself more dangerous and deadly than she’d ever imagined. He’d beaten her and tried to have her killed more than once. And she wanted him handled before he succeeded at putting her in a coffin.
She had a son to think about.
So when Lamar told her that he would “ride or die” for her, then licked his lips—in that moment she saw the hunger in his eyes as his gaze roamed over her body—she decided to test him.
“Come eat my pussy,” she had told him over the phone.
And he’d come to her, his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, causing heat to flare through her pussy. Pasha felt shivers traveling through her body as the recollection of Lamar’s pussy-eating skills slid through her memory. They’d been heavenly. And so had his smooth, dark dick. Delicious. Thick and curved. Nestled in a thick patch of black pubic hair.
She felt drool gathering in her mouth as she remembered the way she’d cupped his balls. Massaged them. Then slipped them into her mouth, slathering them with lots of spit. He’d loved his dick sucked sloppily. Her mouth had become luxuriously wet the first time she’d sucked him into her mouth, his dick pushing past her tonsils, the warmth of her throat heating his cock until he spilled his hot, creamy seeds into her mouth, and down in her throat.