Read Online Big Juicy Lips by Allison Hobbs - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Allison Hobbs
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Constantly plagued by freaky urges that involved men, Brick decided that although he wasn’t totally straight, he wasn’t totally homosexual either. He could back up that claim, too.
Sure, he allowed men to suck his dick and, yes, he engaged in sexual fantasies that revolved around men, but he had never performed or had been on the receiving end of anal sex with a man. As much as Misty badgered him and had tried to persuade him to give up some head to clients in order to increase their earnings, Brick flat-out refused.
A few years back, she’d bugged him about showing Shane some love; pleading with him to do it for her. She’d badgered him so badly that Brick finally broke down and agreed to it. But when she threw Shane some hints, Shane had frowned up, clearly appalled. After that, it seemed that Shane had gone out of his way to avoid Misty and Brick.
If Shane hadn’t slit his wrists and taken himself out the way he did, Brick was certain that Misty’s determined ass would have figured out a way to convince Shane to let Brick suck his dick. Truth be told, Brick would have done it. Misty was in love with Shane and Shane was his nigga. Shane was the only man that Brick would have even considered blowing.
Brick pondered his sexual orientation for a few more moments and came to the conclusion that neither Misty nor any other woman who’d ever sucked on his jawn could give head as well as a man could. But that’s just the freak in me. I ain’t no Fruit Loop!
“Brick!” Misty yelled again. “Bring a washcloth so you can wipe out all this slobber you left between my legs.”
“Aiight!” Brick opened the linen closet and sorted through a stack of colorful folded washcloths and selected a pink, fluffy one, which was monogrammed with fancy lettering spelling out Misty’s name.
Lovingly, he ran warm water over the expensive fabric and squeezed a few dollops of Misty’s favorite body gel. He’d clean her coochie slowly, tenderly—the way she liked it—until he lulled his pretty baby to dreamland.
“Here I come, Misty, baby,” Brick said, wearing a ready smile. He was pussywhipped and proud of it. His devotion to Misty’s coochie was evidence that Frankie the Freak had not turned him gay.
CHAPTER 9
T he day was passing peacefully. No tricks were lined up that evening and Misty had left him with a large quantity of weed—her way of appeasing him while she hijacked their only source of transportation, leaving him housebound for the day.
Misty was on yet another day-long shopping spree. She was on a binge again. Shopping every day, buying up the stores, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Most times, she returned home weighed down by shopping bags that she tossed in the closet without even admiring her purchases.
Sometimes, she mistakenly bought the same item twice. Brick didn’t mind, though. He enjoyed the solitude. Nothing soothed his soul like being able to fall back, undisturbed all day. He loved Misty to death, but having her out of the apartment was heaven. If he didn’t keep her fucked and sucked several times a day, she’d talk his ear off about her latest idea for him to make them more money. Her constant plotting on new ways to market his dick made his head hurt sometimes.
Last night, he’d fucked her extra long and extra hard, using his penis to wear her out and put her to sleep. Just before conking out, she kissed him and dreamily told him she was going to make him an internet porn star. Even in the state just before slumber, Misty was on top of her pimp game, hinting that she’d like to film him in action. He wasn’t even worried about it, though. It didn’t matter how big his dick was or how long he could last, nobody would pay to watch a porn flick with a disfigured star.
Blissfully, Brick watched hours of daytime TV, rented a couple pay-for-view flicks, and rolled one blunt after another, puffing away until his appetite became ravenous.
True, he loathed tricking, but admittedly his
Sure, he allowed men to suck his dick and, yes, he engaged in sexual fantasies that revolved around men, but he had never performed or had been on the receiving end of anal sex with a man. As much as Misty badgered him and had tried to persuade him to give up some head to clients in order to increase their earnings, Brick flat-out refused.
A few years back, she’d bugged him about showing Shane some love; pleading with him to do it for her. She’d badgered him so badly that Brick finally broke down and agreed to it. But when she threw Shane some hints, Shane had frowned up, clearly appalled. After that, it seemed that Shane had gone out of his way to avoid Misty and Brick.
If Shane hadn’t slit his wrists and taken himself out the way he did, Brick was certain that Misty’s determined ass would have figured out a way to convince Shane to let Brick suck his dick. Truth be told, Brick would have done it. Misty was in love with Shane and Shane was his nigga. Shane was the only man that Brick would have even considered blowing.
Brick pondered his sexual orientation for a few more moments and came to the conclusion that neither Misty nor any other woman who’d ever sucked on his jawn could give head as well as a man could. But that’s just the freak in me. I ain’t no Fruit Loop!
“Brick!” Misty yelled again. “Bring a washcloth so you can wipe out all this slobber you left between my legs.”
“Aiight!” Brick opened the linen closet and sorted through a stack of colorful folded washcloths and selected a pink, fluffy one, which was monogrammed with fancy lettering spelling out Misty’s name.
Lovingly, he ran warm water over the expensive fabric and squeezed a few dollops of Misty’s favorite body gel. He’d clean her coochie slowly, tenderly—the way she liked it—until he lulled his pretty baby to dreamland.
“Here I come, Misty, baby,” Brick said, wearing a ready smile. He was pussywhipped and proud of it. His devotion to Misty’s coochie was evidence that Frankie the Freak had not turned him gay.
CHAPTER 9
T he day was passing peacefully. No tricks were lined up that evening and Misty had left him with a large quantity of weed—her way of appeasing him while she hijacked their only source of transportation, leaving him housebound for the day.
Misty was on yet another day-long shopping spree. She was on a binge again. Shopping every day, buying up the stores, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Most times, she returned home weighed down by shopping bags that she tossed in the closet without even admiring her purchases.
Sometimes, she mistakenly bought the same item twice. Brick didn’t mind, though. He enjoyed the solitude. Nothing soothed his soul like being able to fall back, undisturbed all day. He loved Misty to death, but having her out of the apartment was heaven. If he didn’t keep her fucked and sucked several times a day, she’d talk his ear off about her latest idea for him to make them more money. Her constant plotting on new ways to market his dick made his head hurt sometimes.
Last night, he’d fucked her extra long and extra hard, using his penis to wear her out and put her to sleep. Just before conking out, she kissed him and dreamily told him she was going to make him an internet porn star. Even in the state just before slumber, Misty was on top of her pimp game, hinting that she’d like to film him in action. He wasn’t even worried about it, though. It didn’t matter how big his dick was or how long he could last, nobody would pay to watch a porn flick with a disfigured star.
Blissfully, Brick watched hours of daytime TV, rented a couple pay-for-view flicks, and rolled one blunt after another, puffing away until his appetite became ravenous.
True, he loathed tricking, but admittedly his
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