CHAPTER XXIII

08:15

Kenesha woke up groggily, slightly disoriented but at least not nauseous, for which she thanked her dad's genes - that man could drink a watering hole into the ground. Laying there a few minutes more, she wondered if good dick could make a woman go gaga. Apparently, it could, because last night had been superfluous to all kinds of dick she had had in years. After leaving Osteria, she had asked to see where he stayed and when they arrived, they had a few drinks... and the rest was history. Touching and kissing was an import part of foreplay, and exploring someone new was always a pleasure. Kingson's touch was feather soft, light and furtive. However, upon receiving positive feedback from the soft touch stimuli, he would then pursue and explore how much more pleasure he could give her. He pressed her in all the right places literally pushing her buttons: hypersensitive areas on a woman's body he well knew how to excite. He sucked gently on her neck, squeezing her ample buttocks and alternately caressing her back.

Then he would kiss her, their tongues exploring each other's mouth, sucking and pressing thick and sweet lips, one against another, the alcohol from earlier still prominent on their breath. Their clothes practically flew off and they found themselves in his bedroom and on his bed with the AC refreshing them in their heat. Kingson ate her pussy until her toes curled and she rocked to and fro several minutes. No man had eaten like that, ever! His tongue expertly swiveled and undulated inside her vagina, returning into his mouth only to suck her clitoris and excite her labia. She was shaken to her core with rivers of shivers and her entire body became one giant nerve, so sensitized that even the bit of AC keeping his room wonderfully cool and fresh caused goosebumps to form all over her body.

He noticed and continued bringing her body such pleasure as she thirsted for, dreamed about, in her dreams. He made her dream cine true. She came again and again and again and his mouth, nose and chin were saturated in vaginal liquids as the night wore on.

When his dick penetrated her pussy it was like love at first sight all over again, like the first time with her now deceased high school crush. Kingson, for his part, fucked partially her out of the grief he was experiencing after Mia had said what she had said some days earlier. He also superbly out of pride that he, out of every other nigga at his job, was seemingly first to get the pussy.

She lay on her back as he hovered over her, pounding her pussy into shards as he abused her tits by sucking and biting them sharply. Their bounciness and perkiness made him hold each in hand while slowing down the tempo of his strokes. He loved her tits - they were honey golden while the areolas were pinkish brown, a contrast that drove him wild.

He held on to one titty and lifted her leg up with the other hand as if holstering a sidearm. Holding her big ass thigh with an overhand grip was oddly satisfying because it was difficult and he struggled with her weight, a bit - he felt like he and Mia were fucking again. If anyone had told him that he was intensely attracted to Kenesha because of her obvious resemblance to Mia he would have dismissed that as absurd. She cramped and he saw her in pain so he allowed her leg to descend but now lay on top of her and with his hands under her ass. As he pumped into her his knees forced her legs wider open. Her pelvis was slightly and permanently raised by his uplifting hands, facilitating him to raise his ass high in the air, feeling the cool of the AC on his lubricated dick and wet balls before heavily plunging as deeply as he could go inside her. The motion was rapidly repeated and he felt more wetness as Kenesha grunted and moaned and came yet again, turning her body every which way, kissing his neck and biting his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him in delirium, trying to get more of and yet away from that devil dick.

Her newly released juices were pumped out of her pussy as Kingson continued hammering away, pleasuring her exceptionally well. He didn't know how long he managed to maintain that rhythm and speed but perhaps it was a new world record. She was flabbergasted at how much endurance and stamina Kingson was exhibiting.

She felt his knees tremble and the warmth of his ejaculate permeated her innards as his plunging motion reduced and, finally, stopped completely. She could still feel him coming inside of her, albeit slower. He pulled her ass up to him, sending the come deep inside of her, caught up in such ethereal moments of pleasure and release, trying his best to dive into her hot and clingy vagina. He then lay with half of his body atop her for several minutes, dick still throbbing and still inside her. He revived shortly thereafter to her utter amazement and fucked her again for another thirty-six minutes and twelve seconds before they both collapsed, sweat streaming from wide open pores due to their recent and exquisite exertions. They looked at each other, admiring the physical beauty and prowess of their bodies. She was not quite a redbone and not quite "high yellow"; she lay somewhere in-between, a real honey complexioned brickhouse. Laying in his sumptuously lavish bed, Kenesha thought, for a fact, this could be it: Kingson Jackson could just be "the one."

She got up and saw he had picked her clothes up from the floor from last night's romping. He had also folded and neatly laid them on one of the room's two dressers. This was another good sign. He had told her before leaving this morning to find a pair of sweats or boxes and one of his t-shirts whenever she got up. She chose a nice cashmere turtleneck that fit her like a short dress. There were extra toothbrushes and towels so she performer her morning ablutions and explored the kitchen. Not a gourmand but thick for all of her reticence in eating, Kenesha boiled an egg and made some coffee, adding two slices of toast with cream cheese to her light breakfast. The morning was almost halfway through when, at 09:30, the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" Kenesha asked at the door.

"Uh..., it's Mia!

Oh yeah, thought Kenesha. The heartbreak bitch.

Kenesha had seen Mia's picture in a few places in the room and had inquired about who she was.

"That is Mrs. Jackson, who I thought was my loving wife, up until some days ago when she told me I wasn't enough for her. Basically, she wants a divorce." Kenesha had been broken for Kingson and, as a woman, she knew, without having been told, that his wife was seeing someone else, no doubt. She opened the door and in front of her stood one of the most stunning women she had ever seen. Kenesha wasn't overly impressed because she knew that she herself was bad as a muthafucka!

And she knew that was exactly what was going through Mia's mind, too.

Mia was dressed in khaki shorts that had no choice but to accentuate her fatty, with a tightly tucked-in Phat Farm V-neck. Her hair was pulled back in a large and golden-edged afro bun and she had on the most minimal eyeshadow and edible name brand lip gloss. Two diamond studs graced Mia's left earlobe in the simplicity of merely highlighting her wondrous natural beauty. A stranger observing both women would automatically assume that they were sisters, they looked that much alike, and they were immediately aware of said uncanny resemblance.

They were both of a height. They both had naturally golden-tipped and gold-streaked auburn hair. Both women had fat asses. They both had big, round and firm titties. Their complexion was almost identical. They were both of greater than average beauty. And they both had hazel eyes, always a game changer, in almost any woman. Black African-American women with hazel or green eyes were rare and notoriously "bougie." They just knew their shit smelled like roses or lavender. Two unique sets of hazel eyes narrowed, regarding each other with knife-like judgement.

Each weighed the length and thickness of the other's eyebrows and eyelashes; each sought flaws in the lips or ears of the other; each hunted for skin discoloration on the other; each slyly eyed the other, maybe for bitten fingernails and each surreptitiously checked out the properness of the other's toes.

The thing, though, was that Kenesha wasn't as dressed up as Mia, though Mia, to her credit, barely had on any makeup herself.

When each had weighed the other in the most minute of ways and within the most complex of systems (the woman's mind) and found nothing wanting, they both simultaneously turned sideways so as to not have to be reminded of such intimidating competition.

"Can I talk to Kingson?" Mia asked.

"He's not here at the moment," Kenesha replied. "But you can always try calling him, if he hasn't changed his number... or if he doesn't have you blocked." Mia's eyes widened and she reddened in anger.

"Well please do tell him his wife is looking for him."

"I'll tell him."

"Yes, because nowadays a lot of unmarried heifers be looking to break up a happy home. You know how it is, surely." It was Kenesha's turn to redden.

"Well, if these so-called 'wives' were in the house more, nobody would be able to break up that 'happy home,' as you call it. However, nowadays, these 'heifers' can't ever be found at home. They're too busy parading their goods in public." Mia's face paled and she bowed her head. "Still, I'll tell Kingson that Mrs. Jackson dropped by." The door slammed shut and Mia flipped the bird at it. Just then, the locks to the door engaged. Mia stormed off.