Read Message from a Mistress Online
Authors: Niobia Bryant
“Depends on what it is,” he answered with hot eyes.
Aria pulled from her past the skillful art of the pick-up as she tilted her head to the side in full flirt mode. “Yes or no?” she demanded softly, reaching out to lift his shirt and trace the grooves of rock-hard abdomen.
“Hell yeah.”
“Aria!” Renee shouted from the doorway. “Step
away
from the dick.”
Malcolm frowned deeply as he shifted his eyes from Aria to over her shoulder. “You know what? You ladies tripping,” he said.
“What if it
wasn’t
Kingston, Aria?” Renee said as she walked up to them.
Aria closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was right. How would she feel if she gave this man—this stranger—her goodies and then Kingston came home and pulled her into his arms like he always did when he saw her? How could she live with herself if it wasn’t him?
But what if it was?
Aria had never felt so frustrated in all her life.
“Here you go, sir. We won’t be needing you any further today. Thank you,” Renee said.
Aria opened her eyes just in time to see Renee hand Malcolm money. “I’m sorry,” she said to him, not looking at him at all as she turned and made her way back up the walk and into the house.
Renee followed close behind her.
Jaime came down the stairs with the bottle of Patrón in her hands.
Aria eyed them both. She felt like their lives were on pause.
R
enee’s thoughts were filled with the memories of the early years of her marriage. The good old days. Before the arguing. Before the constant conflict and the constant pull to see who had the upper hand (i.e. the “dick”) in their marriage. When she
knew
nothing could stop them. It was them against the world and the world had better watch out….
“Happy anniversary, Mrs. Clinton.”
Renee smiled in pleasure as she stretched her nude frame against the length of her husband’s equally nude physique as his warm hands played in the luxurious lengths of her hair. “Mmm. Happy anniversary to you as well, Mr. Clinton.”
He reached down with his free hand and soundly slapped her round bottom. “Damn, I love this ass. My ass,” he told her possessively before he gripped it like a football and then jiggled it.
Renee giggled as she lifted her head from his chest just enough to twirl her tongue around his nipple, enjoying the feel of it hardening against her tongue. “Hmm,” she moaned.
His hand tightened in her hair as he pressed her mouth closer. “God, that feels good, Ne.”
She smiled as she flickered her tongue against the chocolate bud. “I have loved being married to you these last nine years, Jackson,” she whispered to him as she shifted her body to straddle his narrow hips.
Jackson shifted so that his dick now lay snuggled between her warm and moist lips. His own cocoon. His dick knew the intricacies of her pussy quite well. The rigid walls were molded to him, knowing how to grip him just the right way.
Renee sighed as she sat up and flipped the hair he loved over her shoulder before she lightly wiggled her shoulders, making her chocolate-tipped breasts sway back and forth—just the way she knew he loved.
“Which one?” she asked, working her hips to press her clit up and down the length of him. “Slow and hot? Or fast and freaky?”
Jackson shook his head against the downy pillows and wrapped one strong arm around her waist. “How about long and loving because you are my wife and I could stroke this dick deep inside of you all night?” he whispered against her neck as he rolled her body beneath his and settled between her open legs.
Renee smiled softly up to him. “All night long, huh?” she asked him softly as she languidly stroked his back and his square buttocks.
“I love your breasts.” He moaned against her cleavage, the soft twin swells of breasts cupping his cheeks as he kissed her there.
“And?” she prompted as she spread her legs wide.
Jackson sucked one pointed and plump nipple deeply, reveling in the shivers that he felt race over his wife’s body. “And I love your fat ass pussy.”
Renee tilted her head back and released a husky laugh up into the heated air they created. “Whoot, there it is,” she sang playfully as she flexed her hips and spread her legs wider, causing the moist lips of her pussy to spread before his throbbing thick tip
.
“Damn, I love you, Renee,” he swore fiercely, dipping his head to kiss her deeply as he plunged his dick inside her in a swift motion
.
She gasped, some of the essence of her soul entering his mouth as she shivered from the feel of his hard dick sliding with ease along her rigid and wet walls
.
Sweat covered their naked frames. Bed covers and sheets slipped to the floor. The sweet scent of sex funk clung to the air, mingling with their cries
.
“Oh, God, give me that dick,” she panted, reaching up to grab the headboard tightly as Jackson delivered strokes that seemed to touch her soul. “Harder, Jackson, harder.”
And he obliged without the slightest hesitation until the soft hairs surrounding his dick tickled her pussy lips.
But it was when he slowed his furious pumps down to a slow grind that Renee melted. Completely lost it.
“Aww, damn,” she cried out between pants.
“I love you, Renee,” he whispered in between kisses all along her collarbone.
“Oh, I love you too. I love you too,” she cried out, arching her back as her pussy walls spasmed against his dick.
“You cumming, ain’t you?” he asked hotly against her sweat-dampened neck. “I feel that pussy cumming on this dick.”
Renee just allowed herself to get lost in the waves that floated across her body starting at the very center of her core. In that moment as her man—her husband—stroked her walls, he also fed her soul. She felt so many emotions all at once. Emotions that intensified the high of her climax.
Love for her man.
Passion from her man.
Fear that he would ever leave her.
Anger that he would ever share that passion with someone else.
Comfort being in his arms.
“Jackson, it’s always gone be like this?” she asked, breathless, just as his body froze with the thick tip of throbbing dick sitting nestled just inside her lips.
“Always,” he swore, kissing a trail to her mouth to suck her tongue deeply as he thrust his hips and filled her with all eleven inches of his hard and curving dick.
Renee clung to him, desperate and sweaty, as he cried out wildly into her mouth when his dick swelled against her walls and he filled her time and time again with explosive spasms of his seed until the sounds of their sex rivaled the light smacking of their feverish kisses….
Renee shivered at the hot memory and then she shivered in anger thinking that her husband of the last eighteen years had shared his dick with another woman. Jackson had always been hell in bed, and when they said their vows she just knew that all that had been for her and her alone.
And she swore that she had been his equal. His freak when he wanted. She had done it all and had it all done to her with everything in between.
Had it been too much? Not enough?
Or had her career and equality with him in the workforce been too much? Had that sent him into another woman’s bed? Had she made him feel like the man that he swore she tried to devalue him as?
But then the thought struck her that this was more than an affair. An affair she could forgive. This was about more than worrying if Jessa’s pussy was better than hers. This was about the possible end of her marriage.
And that was not something Renee was ready to accept. Not yet.
Aria eyed Renee, who was lost in thought. In the last couple of hours since the message from the mistress, her own mind had wandered time and time again, trying to piece together the puzzle. “Renee, un-ass those shot glasses. And, Jaime, let me get that Patrón,” Aria told them as she moved across the living room to plop down on one of the swivel stools attached to the bar. “Might as well get fucked up while we sit here like three fools waiting to find out which of our marriages is over.”
“That’s not funny, Aria,” Jaime insisted as she walked over and set the bottle of liquor on the bar.
“I bet
she’s
just laughing her ass off,” Renee said bitterly as she walked over to the bar and dug the shot glasses out to place them atop the bar in a straight line before she sat down on the stool next to Aria.
Aria eyed Jaime and the cigarette she’d just lit. “So if we pretend our friend didn’t just drop a bombshell in all of our laps then it will go away, Jaime?” she asked.
Jaime placed the cigarette to her lips and cut her eyes over to watch Aria through the stream of silver smoke she released through pursed lips. “Who says
I’m
pretending?” she asked calmly. “I thought about it, and I’m sorry, ladies, but there is no way it can be Eric. Absolutely no way.”
Aria arched her perfectly shaped brow. “I can tell you who says you’re full of shit. Me,” she countered.
“Hey!” Renee exclaimed, loudly tapping her hand on the top of the bar. “We can’t turn on each other.”
Aria slid off the bar stool and walked out of the room.
“Where are you going, Aria?” Renee called behind her, sounding every bit of the mother.
“To see if that bitch missed and left something behind to use as a chaser,” Aria called over her shoulder as she strutted from the room and down the tiled hall leading to Jessa’s kitchen.
She paused in the doorway, taking in the noticeable lack of all personal items on the countertops and walls. She shook her head. It was true she hadn’t been to Jessa’s in a week or so, but it was obvious that a busy beaver had been busy packing her little heart away. Plotting. Scheming. Damn.
Aria leaned against the beautiful wooden island in the center of the kitchen. “Damn,” she swore again.
She felt like a fool when she remembered how Jessa had been the one to convince her to talk to Kingston about moving into Richmond Hills….
“Oh, Kingston, I love this house!” Aria exclaimed as she stood back from the box of dishes she was unpacking in their kitchen
.
“Me too. You did real good, baby,” Kingston said, squeezing her side as he walked by her to pick up another of the boxes they had to unpack.
Aria eyed his strong and muscular arms in appreciation as he lifted the large box easily. “Well, Jessa was the one who told me about the house. I can’t wait for you to finally meet her,” she told him. “We were thick as thieves—and almost as cutthroat with each other—in college. But one thing about it—we were competitive, but when the shit hit the fan with somebody else trying to step, we always had each other’s back.”
“Love-hate, huh?” he asked as he pulled the stack of paper-wrapped plates out of the box and sat them on the island.
“Like sisters with some serious sibling rivalry,” Aria assured him. “I cannot wait to show off my handsome, smart, sexy doctor husband.”
“Glad I can be of help in the pettiness,” he drawled.
“I’m happy to see her…it’s just that I don’t know if we’re going to fall back into the whole one-up we used to do. I just want to be ready.”
Kingston nodded, but Aria could tell he really didn’t understand.
“I’m glad that you accepted the position at UMDNJ and we were able to move from Pennsylvania.”
Kingston cut his eye over at her. “Me too, because that phone bill was getting as high as our rent for the apartment.”
Aria frowned playfully as she picked up a dishcloth and unceremoniously tossed it into his face. He came around the island and wrapped his arms around her waist to pick her body up against the length of his. “You want me to put you in time-out?” he asked with a broad smile that was more white, straight teeth than anything.
Aria brought her hands up to his shoulders as she looked down into his handsome face. “Are you going in time-out with me?” she asked huskily as she brought her legs up to wrap tightly around his waist while she massaged the muscles of his shoulders.
Kingston’s playful expression changed. “Oh, it’s like that?” he asked thickly.
Aria dipped down to stroke her tongue across his mouth. “Oh, it’s like that,” she confirmed.
Kingston sat her down on the edge of the island before he nearly pulled the white tube top she wore down around her waist. With a hungry grunt that was purely primal, he pressed her down until her upper body was sandwiched between the island and his own body. With snakelike motions of his tongue, he tasted one fat nipple and then the other.
“Oooh!” Aria moaned, arching her back.
“Oh, y’all wrong.”
Aria and Kingston jumped apart in surprise.
“Jessa!” Aria squealed as she rushed to cover her small but plump breasts with her tube top
.
Jessa leaned in the open doorway in white linen slacks and a ruffled white shirt that was feminine, chic, and cool—so like Jessa—while Aria felt like a twelve-year-old in her cut-offs and tube top
.
Aria scrambled down off the island to run across the room and into her friend’s open and waiting arms. “Jessa!”
“I see you’re still dressing like you’re in college,” Jessa joked in that husky voice
.
Kingston walked up to slide his hand into the back pocket of Aria’s frayed cut-off jeans. “She knows these turn me on,” he told her
.
“Jessa, this is the love of my life and the changer of my last name, Kingston,” Aria said with pride as she kissed his smooth cheek. She wanted to show off her handsome doctor husband to her frenemy
Jessa held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Livewell. I hope for Aria’s sake that you live up to your surname.”
Kingston wrapped his hand around hers. “Nice to meet you, Jessa, and you’ll have to ask your friend about that.”
Jessa nodded in agreement as she slid both of her hands into the pockets of her slacks. “Well, I hope you know you just met a new friend, Kingston.”
“Well, any friend of Aria’s is a friend of mine,” he told her with a friendly smile
.
“Where’s Marc? I want to meet him,” Aria asked, looking over Jessa’s smooth shoulder out the door
.
“He’s at work, but we’re taking you and two more couples from the subdivision out to dinner tonight. A little welcome to the neighborhood party. You will love Renee and Jaime.”
Aria waved her at the kitchen. “Good, I don’t think we’ll be done unpacking the kitchen for me to cook.”
“I had an appointment this morning but let me zip home and change so I can help you unpack.”
“Well…I was wondering if you were going to help a sistah out.”
Jessa smiled up at Kingston. “You see her trying to test our friendship?” she asked.
Kingston held up his hands. “My mama didn’t raise a fool. I’m staying out of that,” he said before turning to finish unpacking plates.