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The Music & Me

Novel By: Shontaine
Erotica



The Music and Me is a carnal tale told through the eyes of a suave, yet crass man named Joshua. He keeps his affluent, yet irritating sexy girlfriend close and an affair with a mysterious chocolate covered nymphomaniac even closer. Things go up and down and in and out with words written so vivid and erotic, you’ll need a cigarette afterwards. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2

Submitted:Dec 8, 2011    Reads: 112    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


Prologue- Mannish

I look up at the ceiling as I lay on my back in the king size hotel penthouse bed. It's actually pretty comfortable, but I guess that's the least it could be for the three thousand per night they're charging me. Miami, I tell you is one hell of a city, but I ain't gonna do no Will Smith and make a crappy song about it when my home is the city of brotherly love. Philly is number one and number two in my heart and mind. Even though it's in the middle of November and probably snowing like crazy, I wish I was standing right in the midst of it butt naked. Now from your point of view, you probably think I'm a certified lunatic. Oh, my bad I didn't paint you a pretty damn picture well let me get right to it. As I'm looking up at the ceiling, a honey brown dime has a yard of my dick down her throat. Her name is Zaria Martin and when I tell you she's sexy, I'm not even doing her justice. She has jet black dyed hair with auburn highlights that suits her complexion. It's done up in that curly hairstyle bohemian and/or pothead chicks usually wear in movies and on TV. Her face is like Halle Berry's. I'm sorry that's the only generic description I can give, but seriously it's the best. She literally looks like Halle, in fact on occasion people do stop her in the middle of the street or do double takes unsure if they're really looking at the starlet or not. Not just that, but her body is pretty nice too. I mean she doesn't have tig ole bitties or an ass so fat, that you can see it from the front, but she's slender, yet ample and her walk is mean. You can tell she practiced her strut for years to perfect it just right. The physical isn't the only thing either. She's a 28 year old nurse at University of Pennsylvania hospital working towards a master's degree and planning to become a nurse practitioner and open her own practice in the near future. Her family is a Cosby replica and she'd make the ideal tamer for any wild player in the game of ladies. It's just too bad I'm not any wild player. Let me clarify that, I'm not a player at all even though my homies, Damon and Rick, would beg to differ. I don't have the gift of gab or an elaborate scheme to attract females to me, yet they come in droves. I'm not a pretty boy Chris Brown type; in fact for a good part of my thirty-one years on this earth I was ignored a majority of the time by the opposite sex. Now it wasn't because I had braces or big bifocal glasses, not that there's anything wrong with that, but I wasn't considered your hot guy. I wasn't your average nerd either; I played varsity football, had a date that wasn't related to me at the prom, and I got invited out to parties. I just didn't deal with the regular bullshit in my age group so I was more than less an outcast. Well, me and Damon and Rick. We, with the right gear and swag could have been playboys all throughout high school, but our minds were somewhere else. Damon liked politics, Rick liked science, and I liked psychology. So while the kids our age were talking about rappers and clothes, we were watching CNN, dissecting pigs, and observing social injustice. That's why Damon is an alderman in a Philly district working towards becoming a state representative, Rick is doing residency as a neurosurgeon, and I'm in advertisement. Ha, yeah you'd think that I'd be some kind of therapist, but honestly in this economy, it's one of those throw away jobs like an interior decorator or wedding planner. My degree and experience dealing with the mental mind has proven more lucrative in shallow ways than in profound manners. While my best friends find inner peace and truly love their work, I just like the money. It's why I can afford first class flights to Miami and penthouses in six star hotels. Before I go any further let me introduce myself as Joshua McKay. Mackey is what most call me, but the above is my government. I could tell you how I grew up and all the details of my life, but I know I'm boring you with this back story that I'm giving now. It's necessary for the Zaria thing I'm going to get into soon. Anyway though, I don't want you to think I'm some shallow, materialistic, low self esteem loser. After high school I went to Howard University, pledged phi beta sigma, and got a degree in psychology. That, for some strange reason, made me feel as though I were a true geek so to counter that, I joined the army. I was a lieutenant interrogator, became a ranger and dealt in psychological warfare. After a tour in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, I left the army to sit on my ass. As wonderful as it is to live off of Uncle Sam, I decided against it. I invested ten thousand of the dollars I made from my deployments and made a shit load of money. Now my investments were in things people at the time thought were minor or trivial like ITunes and Google so when I made a shit load of bread people sat up and watched. My business savvy caught the eye of a few VERY important companies and they used my ideas to make billions and in turn I make, well I make more than enough. I don't showboat and act like P. Diddy, since I have lots of free time, I volunteer as a teacher for a behavioral problem school and when I'm not doing that, I fund and operate four group homes spaced out in Southwest, North, South and West Philly. It gets rough, but my skills in the mental mind are so good, I made a kid who was sticking me up give me all the money in his pocket without ever using a gun. So that brings us back to the situation with Zaria. She has all that knowledge, yet she thinks a dick suck is going to win me over. Don't get me wrong Zaria's fellatio or in hood terms brain game is above and beyond. Whatever she does with her tongue and lips are like Novocain straight no chaser. Super head can't even wipe Zaria's ass. Like I said, she'd make a good wife; damn near perfect except she's a whiny moody bitch. She's use to getting her way like a spoiled brat and it drives me crazy. Yet I let her live with me and claim me as her man. I play like the pouting and crocodile tears are cute, but even with her great head game, I can drop her within a blink of the eye.

"Oh so you playing now?" She asks in the childish voice she likes to use when she's being seductive. She's use to me busting a nut in thirty seconds or less so she's surprised that I've been standing at attention for the last twenty minutes. She puts her mouth back on my manhood and slips it down her throat. I feel her jaw muscles tightening up making her mouth a suction cup, but it's useless.

"So did you already tell your friend that she could live with us?" I ask nonchalantly. She makes a face at my total disregard for her oral sex act. Yeah, right now it feels like she's clipping my toenails and not trying to pleasure me. Zaria sucks her teeth, rolls her eyes, and then huffs as she climbs from off of me. She stands and grabs a satin robe to match the violet colored thong she has on from a lush armchair. I pull my boxers back up from around my knees with an already deflated dick.

"You act like I didn't mention this to you two damn months ago!" She says with attitude before she grabs the gay ass Nuvo bottle off the dresser and turns it up to her lips.

"No, I remember things pretty clearly," I say in an easy, yet condescending tone. "You said your girl was moving back to Philly. You never said I'd have to house her freeloading ass." Zaria sucks her teeth.

"She's not a freeloader!"

"Right cuz only after her husband died and left her the insurance money; she decided California wasn't good enough for her anymore." I say sarcastically.

"Don't say it like she was a gold digger! Her husband was like fifty years older than her with money hungry kids. She did him a favor by marrying him. At least he died with somebody by his side."

"Yeah and the sixty grand he left her wasn't too bad either." I say smartly.

"Oh my God! You of all people are judging somebody you never met?" She says knowing that it'll hit a nerve. That's one thing I pride myself on, I never make assumptions and judgments unprovoked. While I let Zaria think it's because of spirituality, it's mainly because I know deception very well. Just because a person looks and even acts one way, they're always another.

"I'm not judging her; you just presented me with some detailed information that tells me she's a moocher."

"If its rent you're worried about, it'll be covered your highness." I smirk, but remain silent as I stand. I head to the balcony of the penthouse; the air isn't humid, but it's warm even for one in the morning. I stare at the Miami skyline unfazed by the beauty. It's sad, but after all the death and destruction I've seen, I can't even take joy in anything more than orgasms. From a psychological point of view, I guess it's the only way I can feel alive. That's probably why I have so much sex with so many women. Zaria would like to believe she's all I ever need and want, but that's simply not true. I may sport her in public, but she's not the first thing on my mind when I wake up or the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep at night. I don't bring her diseases or baby mama drama. In fact, my affairs are discreet and out of her circle, so she should never run into a jump-off (mistress for those of you without a hood dictionary). I feel her arms wrap around me from behind. "Baby, she won't be in anybody's way. She just gotta get back on her feet. She'll be out of our hair and on her way in no time."

"It sounds nice, but I'm gonna still give it some more thought."





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