The Ex Factor: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

dick.
So fuck Celeste
, Monica thought, nearing an orgasm.
And fuck their marriage.Fuck the perfect house and fuck the perfect kids. The dish has been cheating on the spoon. Hell, if anything, Celeste should've never suggested that Sharief stay in Brooklyn with me. Big deal, if his shift didn't end until two sometimes three in the morning and his commute home would be riddled with darkness? Bitch, you knew how far Somerset, New Jersey, was when you insisted on taking your fat ass there! Nothing was wrong with Brooklyn. Nevertheless, ever since we were teenagers Church Ave. wasn't good enough for you. You had to be Miss Priss and move to the 'burbs.
    Always fuckin' lecturing me about being a fifteen-year-old pregnant statistic who dropped out of high school. You never got enough of putting me down, did you? Which is why when my baby was stillborn you told me you had no remorse for me, that I didn't need to be a baby mama anyway. I never forgot that, Celeste, and so, I say touché! You better hope the baby mama shoe doesn't hurt your wide-ass foot too much. And as far as me dropping out of high school, I got my GED, graduated from college, and now I'ma fifty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year registered nurse, and what? Now it's your turn to grovel, bitch, and wonder about your man who was just sucking my clit. Remember you wanted to be a stay-at-home soccer mom, so get ta car-poolin'.
    You knew your husband had just made detective … but did you care? Noooo, not Queen Bee. Well guess what? You left your fine-ass, bald-headed man with too much idle time. Eating too many dinners with me. Too many nights we were up late talking. I was the one waiting for him to come home. Bringing him late-night snacks and sitting with him during his breaks at the station. It was me, Monica, not you. All you did was sit home, get fat, and complain about the kids whining all the time. You stopped doing your hair and taking care of yourself. You slipped and I was there when you fucked up. So…from what I can see…you got what your hand called for.
    Didn't you ever listen when Mommy said men will be men, and all men cheat? Well, if you didn't, you should've 'cause I'm fuckin' the proof.
    Uncrossing her legs, Monica let the left one rest on the bed and threw the right one over Sharief's shoulder. “That's all you got?” she said, looking him dead in the eyes, trying not to scream at the hard-ass strokes he was rammin' into her.
    “That's all I got?” Sharief asked, surprised. “Oh, you want more?”
    “I thought you wanted to pop the cherry? You twirling it.”
    “Oh, so the dick ain't rough enough?” He grinned.
    “If it ain't rough it ain't right.”
    A snide smile ran across Sharief's face as he looked at Monica and started pounding her with the deepest and most intense strokes that he could muster up from the pit of his shaft. The swift motions of his hips caused his dick to run like a marathon in and out of her pussy, pounding against her G-spot and lightly kissing her clit with its movement.
    “That's it?” Monica snapped, trying not to stutter. “That was a li'l-boy stroke. I know this big dick got more back than that.”
    Motherfuck
, Sharief thought, his dick ready to bust.
Ai'ight, ai'ight, I gotta stay still for a second otherwise I'ma 'bout to lose control.
    “Why you so quiet?” Monica said, throwing Sharief a hard hip. “What? You trying not to bust a nut?” She started flexing her inner walls.
    “Oh, you playin' me?” Able to calm himself, Sharief started pounding Monica even harder than before. Flipping her over without ever causing his dick to fall out, he placed his hands at the small of her back and started bangin' her doggy-style. His dick wreaking havoc on her wetness, the friction causing her to squeeze her ass cheeks every time she felt his balls slapping against her skin. “I don't hear you talkin' shit now!” Sharief said. “What— what? Cat got your tongue?”
    “No, I'm waitin' for you to fuck me,”