Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow Read Online Free PDF Page B

my clothing. “We start socializing and you might catch feelings, or I might catch feelings, and then that fucks up the entire arrangement.”
    He crossed his arms in rebelliousness, but as soon as I took my bra and panties off, his eyes were glued to my body.
    â€œI don’t like the term arrangement . You make it sound like I’m a male escort or something.”
    â€œThe only thing that I want you to escort me to is a hellified climax so I can hop in the shower and keep my dinner appointment.”
    â€œAppointment or date?” he asked vehemently.
    I smacked my lips and didn’t bother to respond.
    Anthony was about five-nine, much shorter than Tevin, had a few extra pounds on the belly, light-skinned with a bald head, and a gorgeous smile. We had met about a year before in the producesection of Shoppers Food Warehouse. Before I actually picked up a man in a grocery store, I always believed that it being a hot spot was nothing more than an urban legend, or a marketing ploy for certain major chains. But there he was, grinning at me as I selected some limes to make a homemade key lime pie.
    I had made it clear to him from the beginning that I was not interested in dating him. But we did hang out—movies, dinner, walks in the park—until it came time for me to cut the bullshit and confiscate the dick. I made sure that we were both tested for every STD known to man before we actually did anything. He bitched about it at first, but when I informed him that getting tested meant the possibility of one day fucking me and not getting tested meant that he might as well lose my number, he got the tests done.
    â€œAre you going to stand over there staring at me, or are you going to come over here and commence to fucking?” I asked and then turned around, making a show of exposing my entire caramel ass as I climbed on top of his bed. “I love the way that you hit all of this from the back. My pussy is in distress. Please . . . put it out of its misery.”
    I could hear him approaching behind me, removing his wife beater and shorts along the way. “This is the last time I’m doing this, Jemistry.”
    â€œThat’s what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.” I turned over, lay on my back, spread my legs, and started playing in my pussy with my fingers. “See how juicy Abigail is?”
    Anthony laughed. “You and your dumbass nicknames for your pussy. Every time you come through, you name her something different. Who the fuck is Abigail?”
    â€œAbigail Adams, wife of the second president of the United States, John Adams. Mother of John Quincy Adams, the sixth presidentof the United States. Mother of six, and if I want to call my cooter Abigail, then you need to shut the fuck up about it.”
    â€œYou’re so mean, but you’re smart. I love your bedroom trivia facts.” Anthony climbed on top of me, butt-ass naked, and started sucking on my breasts. “And I love these.”
    I glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was already five.
    â€œWhere are the condoms?” I asked. “That’s enough foreplay.”
    Anthony sat up on his elbow and stared at me. “Listen, this is getting kind of old for me.”
    I gazed into his eyes and then down at his rock-hard, eight-inch dick with a five-inch circumference. Yeah, I had measured that billy with a tape measure before. “Doesn’t look like Marcus Junius Brutus is getting tired of fucking me.”
    Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not even going to ask.”
    â€œMarcus Junius Brutus? The Roman politician and traitor who conspired to kill Julius Caesar and then later committed suicide.” I grabbed hold of his dick and started giving him a hand job. Pre-cum was already leaking from the head. “Yes, your dick has betrayed you. You may want to holler at him about that after I leave for