Nympho

by Andrea Blackstone

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction

Synopsis

Meet Leslie Thompson, a sexually frustrated thirty-year-old teacher on summer break. Tired of being locked into a boring routine and conservative lifestyle, she just wants to feel good and have some erotic fun. Her fiancé Trey is everything she could hope for—minus the dull sex life.

When the best man, Rico, figures out that Leslie craves sheet-pulling orgasms, he proves to be the man who can deliver. After Leslie grows accustomed to having her cake and eating it too, sexing Rico ignites her desire to sow her wild oats with lovers other than her man on the side.

All hell breaks loose when Rico decides that one night with Leslie is not enough to keep their indiscretion quiet, proving that there is no fury like a man scorned. In the end, pleasure leads to pain, but not just for Leslie.

How will signing up to live a promiscuous double-life destroy everything that’s at stake in the lives of two close couples? Take a journey into Leslie’s secret world and prepare for a twisted, erotic experience.

Release date: August 1, 2015

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

The intense summer heat caused my sticky skin to glisten with sweat, despite it being nearly seven o’clock in the evening. As I walked nude around my fiancé’s three bedroom brick rancher, I mustered the strength to raise every window, and turned all the fans on high. I began thinking about how my once beautiful life was beginning to tarnish and lose its luster—I wanted a vacation. I crawled back into his bed for a much-needed nap, but feeling restless, I had no choice but to acknowledge that I really had nothing on my mind but fucking. After I did, I ended up lying on my back, closing my eyes, and slowly stroking my clitoris to relieve some pent up frustration and physical tension. I slid my middle finger into my slit as my mind scrolled through the hundreds of photos I’d viewed of fine men on the Internet. Masturbation had become the only way I could escape into my fantasy world—where I felt no rejection, or even a mere inkling of sexual frustration. Although I had a special man in my life, losing control discretely and alone was the only way I could try and stop the throbbing of my tight, hot, and hungry pussy.

Trey and I had been seeing each other less, and I’d been observing that he was supposedly at work more than he was with me. He stopped telling me that he loved me and would never leave me the way he did when our relationship was new and exciting. We stopped laughing together, slow dancing, flirting, going out on dates—I mean all of the good shit to keep me confident that he was feeling me, just dried up and blew away. I may as well have been invisible as far as he was concerned. In fact, the last time I spoke with him and asked where he’d been all day, he crankily responded that I don’t report my whereabouts to him blow by blow, so why should I expect him to do the same.

One Monday night, after arguing on his cell phone for two hours, I stopped craving his touch, stopped thinking about our upcoming seven-day honeymoon in Jamaica, and gradually released the comforting thought of him holding me as we lay under the moonlight. Out of sheer spite, I ate up both pieces of grilled salmon, polished off almost half the bottle of chardonnay, and took care of a healthy bowl of salad while sitting at my circular kitchen table . . . alone. Afterward, I felt sick as a dog.

It was then I realized Leslie Thompson was sick of the rigid computer programmer. Somehow, the love I had for my man was hardly enough to keep me satisfied. Hell, as far as I knew, maybe my man was getting it on with another chick, or these days, even another brother. I wasn’t sure if insecurities from childhood were creeping into my psyche, or if I was dealing with cold, hard facts. Either way, whether Trey realized it or not, our bond was blown to a billion smithereens because all traces of trust had vanished. Hell, I didn’t know the truth regarding why he wasn’t around. This thing between he and I was so twisted, I wasn’t sure I had the mental energy to straighten it out, even in light of deposits having been made, and the wedding planner having done her part to make our big day run as smoothly as possible.

Although I was tired of powering my cell phone on and off late at night, waiting to see if Trey would show up to hold me in his arms, or come hit it like most normal men, I knew that he would be an excellent provider, and take good care of the kids that we discussed having down the road. The thing is, a new game chose me after someone very close to the situation reminded me I could make up for the attention I wasn’t getting at home by lying and cheating.

In lieu of me not desiring a bridal shower, my best friend and maid of honor, Tanya opted to take me out for a day at the spa. The plan was to get manicures, massages, and just kick it about the old days. After the spa, we ended up eating at The Stonefish Grill at the Capital Center Boulevard in Largo. We had a great time eating and discussing the dirt men do, all on her dime. I opened the present Tanya gave me—it was a picture of me and her in the second grade, enclosed in a beautiful gold colored frame. After we shed a few tears, I opened a card that included a notice for a free subscription to Essence Magazine. We devoured our seafood, settling into the ambiance of the chic, modern place. I found out she was also having man problems with someone who just so happened to be my man’s best friend, Rico.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, but I don’t want to spoil our day.”

“Whatever, Tanya. Lay it on me.”

“I answered Rico’s phone and a woman seemed rather surprised to hear the sound of my voice,” Tanya explained.

“So . . . what’s the big deal? It’s his phone. Why’d you answer it—you don’t pay his telephone bill. A man is going to talk to whomever he wants.”

“A: I’m his woman. B: this hussy had that I-thought-he-was-single kind of tone going on, and C: I thought it was him calling me since I picked up his keys while he was at work. He told me to let myself in. I had no idea that I’d find out Rico was kicking it with his secretary. She and I talked a while, and she was sure to tell me that they had two tickets to see Raheem DeVaughn. Then, she had the nerve to ask me to hang up so she could call back and leave him a private message. I did and just let the phone ring so that—”

I cut Tanya off. “Don’t let me find out that you’ve got rocks for brains, girl. Come on!” I shook my head with disapproval. “Excuse me, but you can’t be nice to the competition. Kicking it was a different story. What’s wrong with you? You should’ve let her have it where it hurts. Everyone knows you and Rico are dating. How in the world did you manage to let her walk over you like that?”

“But it wasn’t just her fault. And she said they weren’t sleeping together. There’s something about Rico that’s mesmerizing. He just pulls me in and I can’t seem to let go. I can’t explain it because I’ve never experienced this feeling before,” Tanya insisted.

“How many ways can I tell you to adopt a zero tolerance cheating policy? You fuck up, you’re fired—that’s how it should be. If Rico hasn’t dipped his wick in her yet, he will. He’s no more magnetic than any other sucker out here with cheap lines, a decent job, a few good brains cells, and a mission to weave a tangled web to catch as many women off guard as possible. Don’t let that man brainwash you. It’s just a matter of time before you find out that he’s a pure dud who has no more appeal than the rest of them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m tired of listening to this bullshit, Tanya. This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for anyone. This isn’t Rico’s first time cheating on you. Maybe I should’ve kept a log and listed all of the times you woke my ass up wondering if he was at home or in someone else’s. No, you haven’t proven anything yet, but what in the hell are you waiting for—in-person proof that you’re nothing more than an onlooker in the hoochie parade? You’re celibate, Rico is man who likes to fuck, and you have no ring. Do you really think he’s going to be faithful under those circumstances, or do you think he’s going to keep playing these games?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore—I just don’t. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“Trey’s hands stay on me like an octopus, but he knows that I’m not giving him some ass until we get married,” I lied. “It’s not easy holding out on these Negroes when women are out here shaking their tail feathers in clubs and handing it over on the first night after a man pays for a cheesy fifteen-dollar entree. Somehow, I manage to remind him he’s not missing out because I’m worth the wait. I constantly remind him that these trifling hoochies who drop their drawers on demand will only be a convenience to him and those types have nothing lasting to offer.”

“What should I do? The last one picked his nose at the dinner table and went on and on about his swollen prostate. The one before that acted as if paying for a lunch date would ruin his savings account. The choice index is very slim out here.”

“Stop tripping—forget Rico’s peanut head self! Crack down, be tough, and date someone else. Think ahead. He’s a waste of your time despite the slim pickings. Rico is what I call a professional bachelor. He’s never going to get married, he’s set in his ways, and he may not even be trainable to do right by any woman . . . let alone, my girl.”

“You’re right. I’ve been acting like he was interested in having a wife and kids. Rico isn’t going to rig up a trailer hitch and pull it through weeds just so I can go camping. What was I thinking?” Tanya chuckled and shook her head.

“The blind sees! Thank you Jesus—she’s healed! Boo coo improvement! Break up with him so you can find your place in time. After you do, the membership drive of Tanya’s fan club will be on! If it’s the last thing I do, we’re going to find you someone worth keeping. But first I’m going to teach you how to grow a backbone so you can train a man to respect you. You’re a beautiful, strong woman, so be encouraged. It’s not you, it’s him.”

“Thanks Leslie. I’m glad I have you. You’re my best friend in this world,” Tanya told me, smiling.

“Well, prove that you want peace of mind by getting rid of the dead weight in your life. I found a good man and so can you, girl. Keep your standards high. Do what’s best for you by hooking up with a man who appreciates you, Miss Tanya. Now get going before you start tripping again,” I told her, patting the top of her left hand.

“But what about our girl’s day out? This was supposed to be all about you, not me.”

“Everything was nice, Tanya. Besides, I can head over to my man’s house. I assure you that a sister can take care of herself.” Just to pretend that everything was kosher, I dangled Trey’s key and grinned. I was showing off like I had Trey on lockdown by having it. My girl knew we didn’t live together, yet I had a key.

As Tanya walked away to handle the business in her private life, I began to rewind the situation in my head. Tanya and Rico hooked up after meeting at a cookout Trey threw early in the summer, a few months after her divorce. Like the hypocrite I was, I’d just advised her to cut the cord on Rico while pretending it was all gravy in my world. I wanted to portray the image of a secure woman in love, but in actuality, it was a fifty-fifty shot that Trey would be thrilled when my face met his. Sometimes people give advice they don’t follow themselves. You know how that goes.

I made it to Trey’s house about six o’clock that evening. He was nowhere to be found, but since traffic had been heavy due to construction work on the highway, I decided to stick around and plug in a good flick. The events that transpired in my own life should’ve given me pause. Watching porn and giving contraptions like the Rider Rocker Fucking Ball a spin were the only way in which I could become sexually adventurous. As soon as the UPS man dropped the box on my porch, I inflated the ball, attached the six-inch fake penis, and mounted it as if I expected a waterfall of satisfaction. I was ashamed of how far I’d go in pursuit of an orgasm because I claimed to be a born again Christian. Obviously, I hadn’t stopped denying my carnal pleasures. The only thing I was good at was leading a double life. In fact, I’d hidden some of the spiciest recorded trysts in the back of a closet that Trey never bothered to clean, in his very own place. Anytime I was tired of hearing my fiancé’s explanation that the mother of his children should never behave like a common slut by putting her mouth where he peed, I snuck to watch various women liberate themselves sexually by being very nasty girls and enjoying it. Those men didn’t seem to mind; in fact, they simply loved it. I wished I didn’t have to learn about the erotic side of life by hunting down someone who made ten-dollar bootleg porn videos and sold them in a pissy smelling cubbyhole near a metro stop. But my profession as a teacher, and Trey’s standards that involved placing me on a high pedestal, meant that I could never hold my head up high and openly walk into a sex shop—I had to sneak. And sneak I did, at least twice a week. I became my hook up man’s best customer, requesting him to recommend his new favorites and leaving with several flicks at a time.

After I put on my glasses so I could see every detail, I inserted a new freak show into the DVD player in Trey’s bedroom. Sex sounds immediately inspired me to stroke my clitoris. Just as my juices began to flow, my phone rang and disturbed my groove. Without realizing how close I was to feeling my first real orgasm, I picked up my cell phone, remembering to turn down the volume of the movie first, of course.

“Hello,” I said breathlessly.

“Damn, do you answer the phone sounding like that all of the time? I need to call looking for my girl more often,” Rico replied.

“Mmm. Mmm. Hold on,” I said. The sound of a living man’s voice aroused me so much I tried to kill off the naughty feeling, and send it back to its sender.

“I’m looking for Tanya, but from the sound of things, she’s not with you.”

“She isn’t . . . she isn’t . . . here. I’m at Trey’s place. How’d you get my number?” I replied, watching the TV screen.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Rico teased. “Someone was filling my girl’s head with a whole lot of garbage. We had some heated words, and I really need to talk to her. In fact, I thought maybe you could help me track her down.”

“Whatever went on, I’m not in it. I don’t even want to know.”

“Fuck it—fuck her! My mind is somewhere else now. You need some company over there, Leslie?”

“Rico, I’ve really got to go,” I said urgently. By this time, I meant to hit the mute button, but instead, I accidentally increased the volume.

“Don’t get mad at what I’m about to say, but it doesn’t sound like my man Trey is taking care of business in his neck of the woods. Why are you trying to independently inspire yourself, mami? You all acting like married people already, huh? I see you don’t knock boots anymore.” He chuckled. “That’s not right. Isn’t it a little early for the big marital drought? You have a whole lifetime to go that route,” Rico commented.

I didn’t like being busted, but that’s what happened. I blocked out Rico’s snide remarks and continued struggling to find relief for my body as a woman slurped and sucked on a beautiful looking, stiff penis. When her partner groped at her left breast, I thought of how mine were aching to be fondled, my ass craved a good spanking, and my mouth wanted something long and hard to suck on.

For whatever reason, Trey and I had only been making love about once every two weeks as opposed to our usual three times weekly. Summertime turned me on, and I wanted him to take me to London, Brazil, Paris, and Africa with his good loving, but the only way I’d get a mega-sex-fest was by means of a trip to the bootleg porn spot. Whooptie do. Maybe love and sex don’t mix because before Trey and I officially hooked up, he represented like a Mandingo warrior who had been chosen by a master for his baby making talents. I missed those times—they kept my libido fed and interested.

Out of the blue, Rico said, “Stroke it for me, Leslie.”

“What? I can’t masturbate to the sound of my best friend’s man’s voice . . . and my man’s boy,” I said innocently. But I was already doing the deed. “Tanya’s my girl and your horny ass is the best man in my wedding. Come on, it would be foul to go down this route, especially while I am in Trey’s bed,” I added.

The thought of Rico’s boldness turned me on. In fact, it was causing a steady stream of moistness to run down my brown thighs as I continued watching the TV screen.

Even though sleeping in Trey’s old T-shirt reminded me of him, it did nothing for the up close and personal attention I needed. I loved every minute of this smooth-talking brother flirting with me while betraying the one who was neglecting me.

“Everyone likes choices. It’s your choice if you want to pretend you don’t like this or you can live a little.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said, stroking my kitty kat.

“I know that I’m turning you on, and I can tell your hands are busy, too. Tanya and I broke up, so technically, I’m no longer her man. Since I’m putting it out there, just know that I went home and jacked off thinking about you after we were finally introduced. I’ve always wanted to hit it but the opportunity never presented itself. There’s something about you, Leslie—I can’t quite explain it. I’d lick you from head to toe.”

“You are a trip. Sure, Rico. Tell me anything,” I said, half giggling. “For someone who can’t explain something, you sure are long-winded,” I teased.

“I just think you’re sexy as hell, mentally and physically. When I found out your fine ass was a school teacher that just did it. I’ve always had this fantasy of breaking off a teacher who sports a bun and glasses to work like a sexy librarian, but likes to let loose when she comes home. From what I’m guessing, you have another side to your personality,” Rico said, ignoring my comments.

“Ya think?”

“I know what I peeped a while back. The glasses and innocent act didn’t fool me one bit.”

Rico’s choice of words fed my ego and caused me to journey down the slippery slope of betrayal—I proceeded to have phone sex with him. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. I began rubbing my clit faster, in circular motions, my eyes glued to the anonymous woman on the screen who began to scream as a man with dreadlocks pounded her without mercy. I lost control and began to heave.

“Are you still playing with yourself?” Rico asked.

I bit my lip and managed to squeeze out a few words. “Yes, I’m doing it.”

“What are you wearing?” Rico said in a voice so sexy it began to hypnotize me. When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “I asked, what you are wearing?”

“Nothing but my glasses.”

“That’s what I’m talking about . . . mmm. You’re butt naked? Leave the glasses on. Your girl wouldn’t get down like this. Damn—so are you on your back or on your stomach?”

“I’m on my stomach now.”

“I bet you’ve got that tight and wet freak pussy. Stick your finger inside. Are you wet? Check for me, Leslie.”

“Mm-hmm,” I moaned. My answer was obvious without me articulating the words. I put my body into it, feeling the electric energy of being hot and bothered.

“Good. I’m coming over,” Rico said.

I finally slipped back toward reality and turned my eyes away from the steamy scene. “No, Rico. Don’t. That wouldn’t be a good—”

“Wake up. You’re not a married woman on lockdown yet, and now I’m a free man who is more than willing to demonstrate how Trey should be putting it down. He’s lucky to have a woman who’s ten years younger than him. As far as Tanya, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She never has to know a damn thing. As well as you know me, you should know all I’ll do is make love to you like the queen you are. The problem is that you’re too much woman for the man you hooked up with, but you’re not too much woman for me. I’m going to beat the pussy up and enjoy every moment of it. Trust me, that nigga you’re marrying ain’t no saint. I should know. I’ve known him way longer than you. Stop acting like it’s 1920. Just because you and I get our freak on doesn’t mean you can’t put on your white dress in a few and live happily ever after with my boy. You’re not even living together yet, so don’t feel bad. Relax and take a chance on Rico…you won’t regret it.”

The cell phone call ended abruptly, and I heard the signal drop. Apparently, Rico wasn’t bluffing and wanted to take our phone fucking to the next level. All that I could manage to do was run to grab the disc from the DVD player and hide it in its proper place. Despite what would or wouldn’t happen next, no one needed to know how sexually unsatisfied I really was. I wanted everyone to be completely unaware of my frustration.

What I wanted to do was something many fantasized about but few would admit—fucking their man’s boy. Still, there’s a distinct difference between fantasy, and making fantasy into reality. Never did I imagine that the thoughts. . .