Sweet Sick Love

“This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything!” Freaya repeated over and over inside her head as her lover,Shehara’s tongue probed her most intimate region.

Freaya gripped the fitted sheets ripping them from the mattress. Her moans had turned to screams of passion. Tears ran down her face. She came with such ferocity he heart skipped a beat. She wanted so badly to say, “I love you!” to Shehara, but that was forbidden.

Shehara sat on the side of the bed. She removed the joint from the nightstand and lit it. She inhaled the potent smoke, blew it out and braced herself for the predictable, emotionally weak thing that Freaya would do. Why couldn’t she just cum and go?

Though it was forbidden, Freaya could not resist the urge to kiss Shehara on the neck.

“I told you about that shit!” Frowned Shehara

“Damn, Shehara, can’t you allow yourself to accept a little affection?”

Freaya got out of the bed and gathered her clothes. Shehara couldn’t help but admire her beauty. She was petite with thick hips, a heart shaped ass, and small supple breast. Her blonde pixie cut complimented her rich cocoa skin tone. Instantly, Shehara’s admiration turned to disgust. How could a woman who was so aesthetically gifted be so needy and lacking in self-esteem? Shehara was certain that had Freaya liked men, she would’ve been with one who regularly cheated on her and beat her ass.

“I mean, I get that we’re not a thing, Shehara, but the fact that I can’t even touch you makes me feel some type of way.”

“Bitch, everything makes you feel some type of way.”

“You don’t have to insult me.” Freaya fastened her jeans. She frantically tried to get her shoes on and leave before Shehara became even nastier. Freaya never understood why Shehara was always so callous after sex.

“You don’t have to insult me,” mocked Shehara. “You are one weak and pathetic soul. Girl go on and get the fuck out of here and leave me alone until I send for you again.”

“Don’t bother to send for me”, cried Freaya, upset that she had given Shehara the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “I am tired of this toxic, loveless shit and I am tired of your toxic, soulless ass!”

“I didn’t hear you say that you were tired of this miraculous tongue. Little girl please stop playing yourself because at some point in the day, either on your way home or on your way to work your shift at McDonald’s, you’re going to do a complete 180. You always do.”

“Bitch, don’t count on it this time!” Freaya stormed from the room before Shehara had the chance to tear her down further.

On her way to the front door she caught a glance of the handsome, half naked man who sat in the dining area, just off from the living room, casually reading the morning paper. She hoped that he hadn’t seen her. Freaya always felt awkward whenever she encountered Shehara’s husband, even though he was fully aware of the affair. Freaya hurried out the front door, determined that she would never enter it again.

Shehara strode into the kitchen, still naked. Faruq admired his wife’s confidence. Her body was impeccable, and she knew it.

“You were brutal,” smiled Faruq. “The poor little pixie girl left out of here with tears in her eyes.”

“She’s so fucken weak.” Shehara rolled her eyes. “All that beauty and too stupid to compound it with confidence.”

“Is that why you treat her that way?”

“That, along with the fact that she lets me.” Shehara noticed for the first time that her husband only wore a pair of silk, ecru colored boxers. The color popped against his majestically dark skin. Instinctively, she touched herself. She sat on the counter, ever so slightly she spread her legs. “Has Hajee, left as well?” She asked

Faruq stood up. Not even erect, his bulge was impressive. His wife eyed his crotch with the same hunger and lust that Hajee had eyed it with an hour earlier. Faruq was as turned on by Shehara’s stare as he had been repulsed by Hajee’s.

“He’s long gone, thank God.”

“Did you fuck him?” Asked Shehara. Her legs parted a little more as she seductively caressed her inner thigh.

“God no!” Faruq was disgusted. “I would never lower myself enough to swim around in his scum hole.”

“What did you do?” Shehara’s lips moistened in anticipation of hearing the details of Faruq’s latest humiliation of Hajee. Her treatment of Freaya was mean, Faruq’s treatment of Hajee was downright sadistic. The fact that either of them continued to come back was sick and pathetic.

A smile crept across Faruq’s face as the image of Hajee, naked and desperately crawling on his hands and knees begging Faruq to just let him touch it flashed in his mind. Faruq stood in between his wife’s legs. She gasped as his fingers unraveled her delicate flower.

“I made him insert object into inside himself.”

“Really Faruq, do I have to do this; why don’t you just fuck me?” Pleaded Hajee.

The slap from Faruq reddened the entire left side of Hajee’s face. Hajee reluctantly took the pillar candle from his “lover’s" hand and rammed it deep inside of himself. Faruq’s cock throbbed erect.

“That is an obedient bitch.” He smiled as he looked around for the next item for Najee to insert…

“Objects…w-w-what objects?” She stammered. Her feet arched as his fingers probed deeper.

“His phone, a pillar candle, a Mag Light flashlight. The nasty bitch made them disappear inside himself. I got so hard watching him degrade himself, hoping that I would finally fuck him or at least let him suck it.” His tongue circled his wife’s nipple. She clutched his head trying to force him to go lower. He would not yield. Besides, there was more story to tell.

Faruq stood across the room from Najee masturbating. Najee crawled over to Faruq, crawled like a hungry dog.

“Please, Faruq, baby let me suck it; at least let me touch it.”

Najee reached for Faruq’s cock; Faruq stopped stoking himself long enough to deliver another viscous slap to Najee’s face. Najee was determined to at least touch the beautiful black cock that enticed him so much, he was willing to endure violence and humiliation from its owner.

“Stop it you pathetic little butter scotch bitch.” Warned Faruq.

Every time Najee reached for it, Faruq would slap him. Finally accepting defeat, Najee sat there on the floor crying and watching the man he loved stroke the thing that Najee most desired.. Faruq thoroughly pleased at Najee’s humiliation added more when he stood over Najee and came all over his face. Before Najee had a second to think that Faruq was showing him any affection, Faruq spat on Najee, then kicked him for good measure.

“You disgusting bitch,” frowned Faruq, “Get the fuck out of my house and don’t ever return.

“Can, I at least wash my face?”

“No, now leave before I really show you how much I despise you.

His head lowered, Najee put on his clothes and walked out of his “lover’s” home with cum and spit dripping from his face.

“Why wouldn’t you let him have just one little touch.” Shehara’s hips raised from the counter for a second. His middle finger had always been her weakness.

“Are you familiar with the story of Tantalus?”

“Tantalus?” She eased his boxer shorts down freeing his erection. She stroked it reveling in the privilege that Hajee had been denied.

Faruq entered her.

“Tantalus, my Love, is a character in Greek mythology. The word tantalize is derived from his name.”

“Tell me more.” She moaned. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Tantalus was the son of Zeus. He was king of Sipylus and had an intimate relationship with the Gods who permitted him to sit at their table. Tantalus didn’t know how to appreciate shit.” Faruq thrusted deeper as Shehara clawed his back. “He told humans the secrets of the Gods, he stole food from the Gods and gave them to mortals, the mother fucker even killed his own son and served him to the Gods at their table. Stupid, arrogant, disrespectful. Not too much unlike Hajee. His light skin, that soft hair, those greenish eyes make Hajee appeasing to most men and women. You read his social media and he’s always going on about how fine he is. Always posting pictures of himself. Pathetic little boy.”

“Tantalus!” She panted. “I want to know what happened to Tantalus” Her toes curled.

“Well my Dear.” His talk had accelerated to match his thrusting. “He was cast into hell and was made to thirst and hunger forever despite standing in water and having a tree of ripened fruit in plain sight. He sees everything that he needs to satisfy him, but it is forever out of reach. My dick will forever Hajee’s tree of tantalizing fruit.”

They both erupted, enraptured by their ability to treat two human beings like dog shit on the bottom of their shoes knowing that they would always return.

Shehara nestled closely to her husband in the same bed that she had pleased Freaya.

“Freaya swore she would never return.”

“Hasn’t she said that before?” laughed Faruq. “I at least admire the fact that she tries to break away from you. I have beaten Hajee, spat in his face, even pissed in his mouth, yet he always comes back, just to see what he can never have. I loathe him.”

“Damn, it has been hours and Freaya hasn’t called. Maybe she meant it this time.” Shehara shrugged. She was quite indifferent to the prospect of Freaya no longer returning.

Shehara’s cell phone rang. She didn’t bother to answer it. Even when the ringing stopped and started again. Damn, she had almost hoped that Freaya had gained some pride.

Only when the ringing had ceased did she remove the phone from the nightstand.

“There is a voicemail; should I play it?”

“You know you’re dying to.” Smiled Faruq.

Shehara put the phone on speaker.

“Shehara,” came Freaya’s shaky voice from the phone. “I fucked up and I am sorry for acting so stupid. From now on I will do everything that I am supposed to. I don’t want to lose you. I am yours if you’ll still have me. Please Shehara, send for me.”

Faruq and Shehara laughed.

“Please, Shehara, send for me.” Teased Faruq as his fingers caressed his wife’s flower. Shehara spread her legs as her husband, like a mighty God, made it rain in her garden.

The End