His Betrayal Her Lies Read Online Free PDF
Author: Angel de'Amor
of
it down the sink. “I’ll add more vodka ma’am.”
Before he could do it, she said, “Dump more
out; add more vodka.”Ari couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman.
He looked at Maci out the corner of his eye.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Ari?” she asked
taking the now-potent drink from the bartender.
“I never met a lady like you.”
“What do you mean a lady like me? And where
are you from? Your accent is provocative.”
Ari threw caution to the wind and decided a
little conversation wouldn’t hurt. “I mean, I never met a lady who
wanted such a stiff drink. And I’m from Kingston, Jamaica, but
moved to Chicago when I was thirteen. Why do you ask?”
Maci wrapped her moist lips around the tiny
straw in her drink and took a sip, her eyes fixed on Ari. “Oh
nothing. I just never met a Jamaican with hazel eyes and wavy,
cropped hair. I’ve never been to Jamaica. How is it there?” She
crossed her legs, not trying to hide her exposed thigh. Ari
scratched his forehead, stealing a glance at her toned legs. “I
really don’t remember a lot. I left when I was a teenager. All I
remember is my time in school and there being a lot of poverty
there,” he answered, not wanting to get sucked into a conversation
with her.
“Oh, well, I hope we get to go back
together.” She gave him a sinful look.
Ari started to correct her. He knew he
wouldn’t be going anywhere with this lady. But as the drinks kept
coming and the alcohol started to take control, it felt so natural
talking to her. They chatted about everything from her parents to
where she lived. She happened to live in Chicago as well. He
listened as she told him her dog Susie’s whole life story—even
though he didn’t really care for pets one way or the other. Ari
told her about the death of his parents. When the words left his
mouth, he didn’t understand why he would tell this outsider
something so personal.
By 4:00 a.m., the bar was closing and Ari
didn’t know how many drinks he had had. He was sure that Maci was
drunk. She had her arms around his neck, gushing and running her
hands up and down his chest. They stumbled out of the bar and
flagged down a taxi.
Ari looked over at Maci in the cab. “What
hotel are you in?”
Maci started babbling off names of hotels
that weren’t even located on South Beach. Ari told the driver to
take him back to his hotel. They had just started the five-minute
cab ride when Maci grabbed Ari’s dick and squeezed it.
He let out a squeal. “Oh, watch it girl, you
don’t want any of this.”
Maci licked her lips. “Maybe I do.” She
unbuckled his jeans and slid down his zipper. With three fingers,
she reached inside the hole in his boxers and grabbed his limp
dick. Ari hissed at the sudden force she applied.
Maci leaned down and licked the tip of his
manhood and ran her tongue straight down the sides.
His dick stood at attention and he grabbed a
hand full of her curly hair to pull her head up and down.
She spit on his dick and took the whole thing
in her mouth, his full length.
Ari felt the tip of his dick hitting against
her tonsils. He thought she would gag, but she let up a little.
She bobbed her head up down his shaft, while
he started groaning and saying incoherent things in a Jamaican
tongue. His body jerked beneath her and she tried to rise up. He
kept her head pinned to his member and released his white creamy
liquid into her mouth. “Swallow it now,” he ordered.
Maci responded to dominating boom of Ari’s
voice. She swallowed every bit of his creamy texture and licked her
lips. “Ummm, that was good, Ari.”
The cab driver parked in front of the hotel.
“That will be six dollars and forty cents,” the Indian man said
with a huge grin on his face.
Inside the hotel room, Ari fell back on the
bed. He watched as Maci danced around the room singing and taking
off her clothes. Ari wasn’t completely drunk; he could hold his
liquor. He thought about making Maci leave, but hell, he was
it down the sink. “I’ll add more vodka ma’am.”
Before he could do it, she said, “Dump more
out; add more vodka.”Ari couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman.
He looked at Maci out the corner of his eye.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Ari?” she asked
taking the now-potent drink from the bartender.
“I never met a lady like you.”
“What do you mean a lady like me? And where
are you from? Your accent is provocative.”
Ari threw caution to the wind and decided a
little conversation wouldn’t hurt. “I mean, I never met a lady who
wanted such a stiff drink. And I’m from Kingston, Jamaica, but
moved to Chicago when I was thirteen. Why do you ask?”
Maci wrapped her moist lips around the tiny
straw in her drink and took a sip, her eyes fixed on Ari. “Oh
nothing. I just never met a Jamaican with hazel eyes and wavy,
cropped hair. I’ve never been to Jamaica. How is it there?” She
crossed her legs, not trying to hide her exposed thigh. Ari
scratched his forehead, stealing a glance at her toned legs. “I
really don’t remember a lot. I left when I was a teenager. All I
remember is my time in school and there being a lot of poverty
there,” he answered, not wanting to get sucked into a conversation
with her.
“Oh, well, I hope we get to go back
together.” She gave him a sinful look.
Ari started to correct her. He knew he
wouldn’t be going anywhere with this lady. But as the drinks kept
coming and the alcohol started to take control, it felt so natural
talking to her. They chatted about everything from her parents to
where she lived. She happened to live in Chicago as well. He
listened as she told him her dog Susie’s whole life story—even
though he didn’t really care for pets one way or the other. Ari
told her about the death of his parents. When the words left his
mouth, he didn’t understand why he would tell this outsider
something so personal.
By 4:00 a.m., the bar was closing and Ari
didn’t know how many drinks he had had. He was sure that Maci was
drunk. She had her arms around his neck, gushing and running her
hands up and down his chest. They stumbled out of the bar and
flagged down a taxi.
Ari looked over at Maci in the cab. “What
hotel are you in?”
Maci started babbling off names of hotels
that weren’t even located on South Beach. Ari told the driver to
take him back to his hotel. They had just started the five-minute
cab ride when Maci grabbed Ari’s dick and squeezed it.
He let out a squeal. “Oh, watch it girl, you
don’t want any of this.”
Maci licked her lips. “Maybe I do.” She
unbuckled his jeans and slid down his zipper. With three fingers,
she reached inside the hole in his boxers and grabbed his limp
dick. Ari hissed at the sudden force she applied.
Maci leaned down and licked the tip of his
manhood and ran her tongue straight down the sides.
His dick stood at attention and he grabbed a
hand full of her curly hair to pull her head up and down.
She spit on his dick and took the whole thing
in her mouth, his full length.
Ari felt the tip of his dick hitting against
her tonsils. He thought she would gag, but she let up a little.
She bobbed her head up down his shaft, while
he started groaning and saying incoherent things in a Jamaican
tongue. His body jerked beneath her and she tried to rise up. He
kept her head pinned to his member and released his white creamy
liquid into her mouth. “Swallow it now,” he ordered.
Maci responded to dominating boom of Ari’s
voice. She swallowed every bit of his creamy texture and licked her
lips. “Ummm, that was good, Ari.”
The cab driver parked in front of the hotel.
“That will be six dollars and forty cents,” the Indian man said
with a huge grin on his face.
Inside the hotel room, Ari fell back on the
bed. He watched as Maci danced around the room singing and taking
off her clothes. Ari wasn’t completely drunk; he could hold his
liquor. He thought about making Maci leave, but hell, he was