“Our relationship is in jeopardy, Lyulle,” I muttered to him.
Duh, I said to myself after releasing those words into the atmosphere. Our relationship had been in jeopardy since nearly the beginning, yet I refused to let go.
“What makes you say that?” Lyulle replied.
“Well, I don’t know,” I responded, not wanting to come right out with it as I sat there, silent for the next few minutes, tears swelling in my eyes. He played dumb, and I was torn up inside, thinking about what was now my love life. I was ashamed.
A late night or early morning some weeks prior, Lyulle had come home to the apartment in the late early morning, sometime around four o’clock. It was not abnormal, and I had learned not to be on his back about things like that. He was gonna come home when he felt like it anyway, and who could blame him? I did not want to be there either, but I had to try for Brooklyn, who was now around eighteen months old or so.
I’d awakened as I often did some time in the middle of the night to find Brooklyn in bed next to me but no Lyulle. Where was he? Who was he with? I’d asked myself all the questions because there was no asking him. I hoped he was okay, but I dared not reach for my phone to call him. Maybe if I would have called him, he would have come home and without her.
He came into the room and told me to wake up. The bathroom in our room, he pointed to in the darkness.
“Get in the shower.”
I did as I was told.
He grabbed the BIC razor. He had shaved me before. I thought it was cool. It was our thing. He shaved me. When I was all clean, he led me into the living area in our home. He pulled out a bottle of what may have been Hennessy or something else dark and told me to drink. He told me to drink another. I downed the liquor, and he began to kiss me. This was odd. I had assumed Lyulle wanted to bury the hatchet, somehow make love and make up for all of the lost time and arguing. I wanted him. I wanted to make up for lost time.
He separated himself from me and went into the front bathroom. He disappeared, emerging with her. I could not believe my eyes. I was in a dream. I had to be. Whelp, here goes.
He lay me down flat on my back, legs bent at the knee, knees up, legs open wide, wider. He placed her over me. I smelled her hair spray, and my stomach turned. He pushed her head firmly in the direction of my vagina. She complied, and her mouth opened to receive me. I felt her warm, wet tongue on my clitoris, and it pulsated in her mouth. I was frozen. I placed my arm over my eyes and head so as to drown out and blind myself from any memory of this night as I was not as wasted as I should have been in this moment. I wanted to be anywhere but there. He grabbed my arm from my head, and my eyes popped open. He entered her from behind, and I died right there. I died. He pumped a few times. Having lost it already, I took a second and digested what was happening before me. He was enjoying this. I slid away from her and was quickly on my feet. His eyes were closed, and he could not see me.
Slap! I slapped the dog piss out of him, unable to control my hostility, yelling some type of passionate and disappointed catchphrase, and burst into tears, furious!
He followed me down the hallway and into our bedroom. The quarrel continued.
“I cannot believe you’d do this. How could you? You didn’t even tell me what you were planning. I would have told you no. Do you know the difference between real life and fantasy? That was fantasy.”
Months prior, I had shown Lyulle a bit of artwork I had done. I had always kept a sketchbook. Drawing was once a favored pastime of mine. These pictures were quite naughty, drawn as if from life or stillness but of pure imagination. They were hardcore XXX. I was a freak in my mind, and I had drawn some wild things, mostly visuals of women and their bodies exposed. I had drawn women licking each other in delicate places, come dripping from their pussies and hard dicks also dripping just as much. I had drawn big-ass titties being sucked, women with legs wide open. That was what turned me on. It was a secret I now wish I would have kept hidden and only shared with those who valued it. Instead, I was exposed.
I had wanted to do this, but what did it mean for us? And that was what I was afraid of. Did he love this girl, and who was she anyway? How did she get to come into my house and into my reality without my acknowledging that it was okay? I had never previously spoken with her. I had never seen her before. Had I let this happen? How would it make sense?
Lyulle was done. He lay down and asked me to lie down with him. He placed his arm around me and flipped my body over, opening my legs to enter me, and I jumped.
“And then you try to sleep with me?” I felt used. I grabbed the nearest clothes I could find—a pink hooded Aéropostale pullover and jeans. “I’ll be back for Brooklyn in two weeks. I’m leaving, and I am taking the truck. I am going.”
Before I knew it, my head had snapped back, and my ears were now ringing.
“What?” I heard. “You’re going where?”
I reached for the door to our bedroom to exit the room. He grabbed the door, slamming it in front of me. I was now off my feet and into the air, sideways. I never took my eyes off him. Only when my frail body hit the floor did I close them. I took a huge kick to the stomach, hugh!
“You ain’t going nowhere.”
Brooklyn was standing there in the room, now directly in front of me. He saw me pained, but I smiled at him. “Come here, baby. Mommy is okay.”
My face was swollen and burning directly above and below my right eye. The mark of a left-handed individual was a right-eye shiner that was beginning to form. My left eye had been bruised with broken blood vessels in the crease of my eyelid. My face was beaten.
I put Brooklyn back to bed, and when he had fallen asleep, I took off all of my clothes. Lyulle was somewhere, and Whatley was somewhere too. I exited the room, fully undressed. Naked, I found him in the kitchen. He walked across the room.
I said to him sternly to get his attention, “You want this, huh? This is what you want. Let’s do it.”
He said, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
I looked at him with a skeptical face. “Yeah, we doin’ it,” I said to him. “Go get her.”
She was still in the house. She was in the front bathroom again. He did not budge. “I’ll get her then.”
I knocked and then opened the door to the bathroom. I had not been ready for what my eyes beheld. She was gorgeous. She was a beauty. I was taken and embarrassed.
It took her a minute to look up at me, and I gazed at her to behold her beauty. Astonishing, she was. I could see why he’d be interested in her. She was so his type. She was anatomically perfect, sculpted, and yes, I was checking her out. Pshhhhh, I had to. The bitch was drop-dead gorgeous. I was glad she was.
She was sexy, slender, with a pair of two big titties with caramel-colored nipples for all to suckle. Her long torso and hips were wide, just enough to cry, “Want me?” in a most teasing and tantalizing way. Her skin was mocha, her brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She was tall, at least five feet and seven inches. Her face was exquisite, covered in freckles and beautiful moles, big ones, small ones, like the universe had kissed her face, leaving a map of the stars strewn across her face. She had green eyes and full pink lips with a perfect pucker. Her smile was radiant and strong. She was a beauty. She was the type of woman who could have any man that she wanted at will. I wanted to be her.
The jealousy that consumed me was no match to her green eyes, and I could not see. I was blinded by hatred, anger, fear, and resentment, and my face hurt. I took her by the hand and pulled her sexy ass from the bathroom into the living room.
Once we were there in the middle of the living room floor, Lyulle was already lying down. Motioning for her to join us on the floor, I took the lead, bending her ass over, head down in the direction of Lyulle’s member. I began to undress her round plump ass, removing her neon green Spanx-style boy shorts. Slowly, I pulled them down, gripping the sides, revealing more and more of the crack of her ass. Her back and legs were covered in tattoos, some finished, most unfinished. Her ex-boyfriend had been a tattoo artist. He’d practiced on her beautiful body. It gave her much character and added to her immense sex appeal. Dammit, my vagina moistened with each glimpse. I did not want to like this. I did not want to like her, but I did. She was beautiful. I looked over at Lyulle, who was just as aroused as I was. Whatley was nervous but just as willing as before. I removed her panties, and she was spectacular.
Pulling Lyulle out from inside his pants, I began to suck him hard. He hardened in my mouth. I looked over to her.
“Here,” I said. “Suck this dick.”
Not wanting her to touch him but wanting him to be fulfilled, I held the shaft of his dick as she sucked the top and the tip. I snatched his dick from her mouth and vigorously began to suck again. The more I sucked, the more she took his balls into her mouth and sucked. We were now engaged. I laid him flat on his back, and I placed her lean body on his dick. She slid down on him. I mounted his face. He licked me between my legs, and she rode him. Putting my right tittle in her mouth, she sucked, and I moistened up again. Damn, I was gonna come. She and I switched positions. I was now riding him. She was getting that pussy eaten, facing him, and he was sucking on her clit. She was gonna come. He pumped me as I bounced. I was ready, he was ready, and she was ready. I squeezed both of her titties, and we all climaxed simultaneously. Together, we moaned and combusted, and our harmony was symphonic. I stood up, extending a kiss on the cheek to both him and her, and exited the room. They passed out right there in the living room, and I let them sleep.