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and that’s a promise.”
    There was silence on the line, which meant he was mullingover my offer, fighting with himself on whether he should stay home or go get his dick sucked. He wasn’t like most of the guys I went after—he told me at the gas station that he’d been with men before—but he was still in denial. I knew I could win him over, though, because the other thing he’d admitted to me was that he’d never been with a black man. From the way he had been looking at me, I gathered he was having a real bad case of jungle fever.
    “Okay, where you want to meet?” His desire finally won over his conscience.
    “You remember the gas station we met at?”
    “Uh-huh, the BP on Jefferson Davis Highway.”
    “Well, there’s a short-stay hotel across the street. Meet me in the parking lot. No need to wear any underwear. They’ll just get in the way.”
    “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    “I’ll be there in fifteen. Get us a room.” I hung up the phone, wondering if he was going to make it back home before his wife woke up, because we were going to be there a hell of a lot longer than the twenty minutes I’d promised him.

Egypt
 5 
    “Oh, yeah, baby. That’s it. Take that shit. It’s all yours, boo,” I cooed into my husband’s ear.
    For lack of a better word, he was fucking the shit outta me, and every stroke was bringing me closer to an orgasm. All I needed was for him to hit the right spot one more time, and I swear I was going to explode. I locked my ankles around his and held on to his waist, grinding my hips against his every time he entered me. Rashad could be very long-winded when he wanted to be, so I always tried to hold out and reach my orgasm with him, but sometimes it just got too good to me, and I had to let it go. I couldn’t help myself. I let out a long moan, and when I finally did explode, my entire body tightened and then contorted underneath him. I can’t even imagine the faces I made as I climaxed, but I felt so good I didn’t give a damn. My God, did he know how to bring out the beast in me.
    By the time I had regained control of my body, I was ready to make him come. And, believe me, I did know how to make my man come when I wanted him to. I lowered my hands, taking hold of his butt cheeks to pull him in deeper. Then, lifting my head, I nibbled his earlobe with my lips, whispering as I dug my fingernails deep into the round flesh of his buttocks.
    “Come on, Daddy. Give Momma that love juice. I wanna feel your come deep inside me.” It’s amazing what a few words and a little pleasure/pain can do to take a man over the edge, because within seconds, Rashad was moaning and groaning loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.
    “Baby, I’m coming!”
    I placed my hand over his mouth. “Shhhh, baby. You’re being a little too loud. You’re gonna wake up my sister.”
    “Huh?” He stopped moving and glared down at me like I had robbed him of something. Considering he’d been in the middle of his orgasm when I quieted him, I guess he sort of had a point. But he knew how I felt about getting all loud with my sister in the house. We’d had this conversation before, so I really didn’t see why he was acting all indignant now.
    “What is wrong with you?” I asked.
    “If you have to ask, then it really doesn’t matter.” He rolled off of me, staring at the ceiling. I heard him mutter, “This is bullshit.”
    “Rashad,” I whined, trying to snuggle up against him, but I knew he wouldn’t forgive me that quickly. He’d explained to me plenty of times that he didn’t care who heard us having sex. As far as he was concerned, we were a married couple, and anyone who had a problem with the fact that we had a healthy sex life would just have to deal with it.
    That was fine with me, too, except when it came to my sister. I didn’t know how to explain it to him—hell, I barely understood it myself—but something just felt weird to me knowing she could be