Chapter Twenty-Three

Real Lovey-Dovey Like

It was still dark outside when I opened my eyes. Stretching, I lifted my head and peered at the glowing blue numbers on the digital LED clock on the nightstand to my right.

Four fifteen in the morning.

Sighing, I rolled over onto my left, propping my head up on my elbow. This was my favorite time of day because, not only was the house still cool since the sun had yet to bust through the sheer curtains like the Kool-Aid man, but everyone was asleep and the house was still. When I was in college, this was the time when I’d do my homework, even though it had just been me and Granny. It was one of the many reasons why Samir thought exotic dancing was the right profession for me; I was a night owl to my core.

Lifting the covers, I peered over at Poppa. Face relaxed, hands pressed together as a resting place for her cheek, she looked so...perfect. Like she was exactly where she should be, here in my bed beside me. The soft slack in her face was so appealing. Like clay I could mold if I dug my thumbs in with the right amount of pressure. But even if she were clay, the only thing I’d create would be another one of her, because she was already everything. Literally everything. It was her. My Poppa. The woman I loved.

But this slumbering person in front of me was also Poppa in her rarest form. When her brows weren’t pinched because she was deep in thought about the beat or melody or lyrics to a song. When her lips weren’t twisted to the side as she fought to hold her tongue because somebody said something ignorant. Hell, even without her face being half-hidden by the shadow of the bill of a fitted cap.

She was just...being.

I saw so much more of her face this way. And, more importantly, I was able to stare at her as long as I wanted without her interrupting me with a heated look and a searing kiss. I loved those moments but sometimes I just needed to stare at her face in peace.

Cyndi Thomas. A product of Carissa and Marvin Thomas’s love. A Mission Bend girl that tried to claim SWAT every now and then. The dopest producer this side of the Mississippi. My Poppa.

That was my baby and I loved her so much it should’ve been terrifying.

And yet...

Lifting the cover a bit more, I scooted closer, being careful to keep my movements light so as not to disturb her before I was ready. There was barely a foot of space between us, so in seconds her body heat was warming me, the first indicator that I’d breached her bubble. My lips curved up at the feeling. I was so head-over-heels about this woman that the mere sensation of being heated by her internal temperature had me a lil moist between the thighs.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

I continued moving until our knees touched and her cloth-covered titties brushed my own. Once I was as close as I could be without being on top of her, I lifted my chin and placed a feather-light kiss on the tip of her nose. Then I leaned back and waited.

Nothing happened. She didn’t move a muscle outside of her chest slowly rising and falling. I repeated the action on her exposed cheek, the one not pressed into the pillow, and waited for her reaction, but there was none.

That wouldn’t do.

Raising my leg, I eased it over her hip, bringing our bodies a few inches closer together.

“Poppa,” I whispered as I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Poppa. Wake up, baby.” I punctuated each word with another kiss.

By the time I was saying “baby,” Poppa was stirring. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she cracked one open. The slit was so small that I couldn’t even see the white around her pupil, and couldn’t even be sure she was wholly looking at me.

Grinning, I pecked her lips. “Good morning.”

She grumbled something low in her throat that sounded like “What are you doing?” and then she closed her eye again. Knowing that once she was awake she wouldn’t immediately fall back to sleep, I waited once more.

With a yawn, she rolled onto her back and stretched. I started to retract my leg but she quickly dropped a palm onto my thigh, holding it in place. Instead of being at her hip, my inner thigh was now draped across the divot between her thighs where I prayed a furnace was slowly heating up.

Fully stretched, Poppa turned her body back toward me, sliding my thigh higher up on her hip and pulling me even closer. Our bodies were flush against each other and my heart rate was quickly spiking as the early-morning lovemaking I’d initiated became a reality. Then she leaned into me, her head fitting into the notch between my neck and shoulder. I blew out a breath through my nose and immediately sucked another one in, inhaling her scent greedily while I waited for the press of her lips to my skin. My mouth fell open in a gasp when she pulled her head back and dug her teeth into the skin at the base of my neck. I then immediately expelled that air when she gripped the gusset of my panties and a first then second thick finger briefly pressed against my lower lips before sliding between them, moving up and down through the wetness that had been there when I’d awakened.

“Poppa,”I whined, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth as my eyelids lowered of their own accord. “I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “You shoulda just did that shit. Now, I’m gonna fingerfuck you until you cum on my hand.”

And then she breached me and my toes instantly curled at the delicious intrusion. I grabbed onto her shoulder with one hand and cupped one of my titties with the other, thumb and forefinger finding my already-stiffened nipple with ease. She pumped once, twice, three times before pulling out completely and returning with two fingers. I cried out; I couldn’t help it. The intrusion felt so damn good.

Narrowed eyes met mine and Poppa smirked at me.

“You better not wake up my baby,” she grumbled, her voice still rough with sleep.

Biting my lip, I nodded. I knew when I started this that the goal was to get to breakfast in bed before Amani woke up. It would fucking suck to rouse him ahead of time and not get my chance to moisturize my face with Poppa’s pussy.

The kiss I’d been expecting before finally landed, Poppa’s lips brushing over my collarbone before sweeping up my neck and along my chin as she steadily fucked me. My breaths were coming in pants and pressure was building in my middle.

A moan slipped from my lips. A little one though, nothing too crazy.

Her head popped up and our eyes met.

“Baby,” I whispered pleadingly. Not sure that I was asking for anything more than for her to keep doing what she was doing because if she stopped I might spontaneously combust, and that would be sure to wake Amani.

And because she was first my friend and she knew me, Poppa heard the unspoken request in my single endearment.

Stretching my neck, I met her halfway as she kissed me, our tongues touching just as she pulled free of me and used her wet fingers to assault my clit with short, deliberate strokes. This time, she caught my cry on her tongue and swallowed it down, slipping her free hand underneath my head to grab the back of my neck. The kiss was sloppy and messy, our mouths open, tongues dancing. I breathed through my nose, filing her scent away with every inhalation, knowing that at some point later in the day I would want her, and the memory of her unique aroma would sate me until I could hold her in my arms again.

With Cyndi Thomas, I was a goner.

Unequivocally.

My head was a film reel of moments from the future. Flashes of us spending our lives together, growing in love, growing as women—as parents. There were family vacations to Disney World and Christmas pictures with matching pajamas, meals cooked together, restaurants tried together, award shows attended as dates, matching outfits and—oh!

The crest of the orgasm that had been steadily building inside of me surfaced and my back bowed. Breaking our kiss, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.

“Hell naw,” she murmured as she used her hand on my neck to bring me right back to her. “Bring those lips back here.”

“Baby,”I panted. My eyes watered. The pressure was mounting and I felt a sharp stab of panic that I might actually wake my son by screaming my head off.

“Juleesa Marie,” Poppa gritted.

All I could do was blink at her. She hadn’t stopped nor slowed her strokes and I was about to fucking cum and yet she was being so fucking demanding.

“Gimme. My. Mutha. Fuckin’. Kiss.”

I surged forward, my teeth clacking against hers, our lips fusing together just in time. Tears fell from my eyes and my body shook as I came. Poppa held me, swallowing the sounds that would’ve surely roused my baby until they faded away and all that was left were hitched whimpers. Then she cuddled me, murmuring words of encouragement and praise. She kissed my lips and eased her hand from between us. I watched, eyes low and lids heavy, as she sucked my essence from each of her digits. And when she was finished, she tilted her chin up, just slightly.

It was an invitation, one I recognized and immediately accepted. The kiss was both salty and sweet. Unhurried, lazy like the dawn of the day easing upon us behind those sheer curtains. I sucked my own flavor off of those lips and tongue and then rolled her onto her back as I climbed on top of her. Her smirk was so fucking sexy; I couldn’t wait to watch the way it morphed into something else.

Sliding down her body, I took her boyshort briefs with me, tugging them off and tossing them up near my abandoned side of the bed. Her legs fell apart and I dropped a kiss onto her inner thigh as a reward for her being so helpful. With a hand on either side of her pussy framing my favorite dish, I laid flat on my stomach and dived in, spreading her lower lips with my tongue and nosing her clit. She was already so wet, evidence of her arousal pooling at the base of her opening, calling out to me like the “Hot Now” light at Krispy Kreme. Curving my tongue, I scooped it out and swallowed it down, her flavor dancing along my tongue and making me ravenous.

The low twinkling of my phone’s alarm ascended, letting me know that I only had about half an hour before my baby would come jumping into the bed with us. Slightly disappointed at having to trim my full-course meal down to a quick bite, I swiped my tongue up and down Poppa’s sopping pussy before shoving my whole face in and sucking her clit into my mouth as if I’d been a Hoover in a past life. Ten fingers dug into my scalp, twisting up in my braids and tugging.

The slight sting turned me on something fierce and in return, I ate Poppa like she was a ripe mango freshly plucked from a tree. I slid my hands underneath her, digging my fingers into her plush ass as her juices dripped down my chin. When her thighs began to cosplay as earmuffs, I knew she was close. Retracting one hand, I pushed two fingers inside of her and curled up, beckoning her orgasm to me as I increased my suction.

“Shit,” she panted, lifting her butt to press her pussy even closer to my face. I took it all, humming with pleasure, wanting every bit of the way she was losing control. Needing her to enjoy this just as much as I did.

Her pussy tightened on my fingers just as she started fucking my face, and I was in heaven. I might’ve been moaning louder than her. No. I absolutely was because Poppa had managed to keep her voice low this entire time, showing me how she felt with her body instead of verbally.

It was admirable and annoying all at once. I wanted to hear the desperation in her voice—wanted to hear her begging. But that just meant we’d have to run this back, and that was quite okay with me.

Poppa came with soft grunts, her back bowed as she pressed my face into her and clamped down on my fingers. Seemingly boneless, she collapsed back against the bed and released me. Crawling over her, I draped a thigh across her body, an echo of our positions just an hour earlier, and nuzzled her neck.

“Good morning,” I whispered, completely sated and filled with love for her.

Chuckling, she lifted my chin and kissed me as if we had all of the time in the world.

“Good morning, baby,” she cooed as she slowly pulled away before slapping a hand down onto my ass. “Now, get on up so we can shower real quick before baby boy comes in here.”

Grinning, I did as she said, relishing in the sting of her touch, giggling like a schoolgirl as she climbed out of bed behind me, hands firmly planted on my hips as she followed me into the bathroom.