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Sneak Peek Saturday: Side Piece Chronicles

It's the weekend.

You're quarantined and trying to remain COVID-free.

You've binge-streamed every show and movie that your heart desires, and you're looking for something new to pique your interest.

Well... Joi Miner to the rescue!

Welcome to Sneak Peek Saturday! Every Saturday, I'll share a snippet of one of my novels... either upcoming, or already available for you to enjoy.

This week's pick:


Anthony

“You don’t say you love me,” Sheila said, her head resting on my hairy chest.

“What?” I asked, as if I didn’t hear her.

“We’ve been together for six months and you never say you love me,” Sheila said a bit louder, although she knew I’d heard her the first time.

“I don’t have to tell you I love you, I show you all the time,” I said, attempting to rationalize.

I knew this day would come. Things had been going too well. Today had begun like so many other days; I had finished my jobs ahead of schedule and had been waiting for her to get home so that we could dampen her sheets for hours. By the time she had gotten home, I’d prepared dinner and run her a warm bath.

It was Friday so I knew her son, Jeffrey, was at his dad’s, meaning that we had the house all to ourselves. And I’d taken full advantage: lighting candles, playing mood music, laying her out on the table and devouring her for dessert after we’d finished our dinner. I’d made her howl, arch her back, and beg for penetration. Finally, I’d obliged her, carrying her into the bedroom, her legs wrapped around my neck, and finished the job.

Now, we lay there, sheets tangled around our naked selves, cuddling and dozing in and out of sleep, and here she comes with that love shit, ruining an otherwise pleasant evening.

“I know you love me, Bae,” she said, beginning to whine, “but it would be nice to hear it sometimes, ya know?”

I tried not to sigh, but my frustration was building. I already got this shit at home from my wife. Sheila was supposed to be my escape from the bullshit, but now she was proving that she could be just as big a headache. I took a deep breath and sat up, making her sit up and face me.

She was so beautiful. But not your classic beauty. You wouldn’t find her on the cover of any magazine. Her small, slanted eyes sat closely to her long nose, leading to her too-full-for-some lips, all encased within a round face. Her skin was a perfect Crayola brown. She didn’t have an excess of anything but thighs. Her body wasn’t toned and her breasts were, slightly more than a mouthful, set on respective sides of her chest. A scar from a childhood surgery served as a divider of left from right. I liked my women soft and she was just that. So soft. So warm. So loving and accepting. As I looked at her, my frustration melted away like snow on an Alabama windshield come dawn.

I smiled at her vulnerability. I knew she was too fragile to handle harshly; the world had done enough of that before I came into her life.

“Sheila,” I said, looking directly into her soft, brown eyes, “I love you.”

Her face lit up like a child at Christmas. Then, a devilish grin came across her face.

“See, that shit wasn’t as hard as you thought, was it?” she asked, matter-of-factly.

I couldn’t hide my laughter. She was a piece of work. I tackled her on the bed, holding her arms down on the mattress. She wrapped her legs around my waist instinctively.

“You didn’t say it back,” I laughed, shaking my head at her doe-eyed expression.

“Say what back?” she asked, innocently.

“Oh, ok,” I smirked, “I know how to get it outta you.”

I let her arms go and, in one swift motion, pushed her legs from around my waist, pinning them to the bed. I began to trail kisses from her navel, headed south.

“Say it.” I demanded between kisses.

“Say what?” She continued to play clueless.

I looked up one final time, my lips directly above her clitoris. “Last chance,” I cautioned.

“I have… no idea… what…” she started, breathlessly.

I took a mouthful of her clit, my lips pushing back the hood and revealing the man in the boat, put my tongue to work. I placed my left palm firmly on her abdomen so that she couldn’t move away and sexed her orally until the neighbors knew just how much she loved me.

Delilah

“You have reached Sheila Price. I apologize that I’m unavailable at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and the reason for your call, I’ll get back to you at my earliest convenience.” The phone beeped, signaling the caller to leave a message.

“Sheila, girl, it’s Lilah. Call me when you get this. Love you.” I dropped my message in Sheila’s voicemail box.

I know they’re together. My mind raced as I tried Anthony’s business cell since his personal phone was going straight to voicemail.

“You have reached Ant Bailey with Bailey Mechanic and Towing, Incorporated…”

I almost threw my phone across the room. He was supposed to come see me tonight. A moment of conscience overcame me when I realized I was upset about my best friend’s boyfriend being with her instead of me.

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on the edge of my bed. I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a porn star in my green and black lace corset and thong. My afro was in a pineapple bun on top of my head and my makeup was flawless. Why he’d abandon me to roll around with that frumpy assed chick was beyond me.

Sipping my wine, I checked my phone several times before I finally conceded, knowing he’d be trying to sneak over here tomorrow to get some ass and head because I know she doesn’t give head. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found one of my Plan B’s. I needed a good hood fuck so I hit up Scooter. He’d lay down the law and leave before Ant got here because his baby mom worked the night shift and he’d wanna be home before she got off.

It wasn’t twenty minutes after I’d sent him the sixty-nine text with a picture of me in my lingerie that he was knocking on my door. I opened it to find him in a tall tee, some baggy, deep blue Girbaud jeans and a pair of flawlessly white Air Force Ones. He had a blunt hanging out of his mouth and his locs swept his shoulders. I took the blunt out of his mouth and hit it, blowing a trail of smoke to lead the way to my bedroom. He stood in my doorway watching my ass and rubbing his palms together, his tongue tracing the width of his smoke-blackened lips.

“You gone come in or you tryna invite every bug and creature from out the door in my house with you?” I asked from the doorway to my bedroom.

“Tre and Tammy wit’ me, Boo. We was headed out when you hit me up,” he explained.

“So!” I said, not caring about anybody else but myself right now. “They can wait in the car or go on without you and I’ll drop you off.”

Scooter closed the door and walked over, cupping my ass into his big, rough hands.

“No. You gone pop a molly and we all gone party over here tonight,” he said, emphatically.

“Scooter, I ain’t tryna get into alla that tonight,” I protested.

He grabbed me around my neck with his left hand, just firm enough to turn me on, his right hand still full of my ass. He pressed his body up to mine letting me smell the Hennessey on his breath and feel his hard dick against my thigh. Letting go of my ass, he pulled a Ziploc bag from his back pocket and held it up so I could see its contents.

“I said you gone pop a molly and we gone party over here,” he repeated himself, squeezing my throat a little tighter.

I took the bag from him, opened it, and reached in to pull out a pill. I opened my mouth and placed it on my tongue obediently. He let go of my neck so that I could swallow before putting the bag back in his pocket and walking back to the door. Cracking it open he motioned to Tre and Tammy.

I had already started rolling by the time they got in the house. If I was gonna be in a four-way, it might as well be with these three. Scooter and Tre were both fine and hung like horses. Tammy was a mulatto who was the best of both worlds. Her jet black hair hung to her waist. Her face had African characteristics, big, hazel brown eyes, rounded nose and pouty lips but she was light enough to pass the paper bag test.

She had the kind of body that could make her famous. She was stacked up from top to bottom, and had on a sleeveless black denim short vest over her red bra, cutoff jean shorts showing off her thick thighs and perfectly round behind. In true Country Chic fashion, she sported some all black Converse All-Stars.

I smiled when she walked in, and she looked equally as happy to see me. The four of us were inseparable at Booker T. Washington High School and into college at Auburn University, where Tammy and I attended and Scooter and Tre just kinda tagged along. We all dated each other at one point or another, well, all but Tre and Scooter, of course. Scooter and Tammy. Me and Tre. Tammy and Tre. Me and Scooter. Me and Tammy. One night, we’d got real fucked up in mine and Tammy’s off-campus apartment and decided to cut out the complications and that’s when the foursomes had begun.

As I reminisced, Tammy walked over to me and kissed me with a passion that let me know she missed me. Tre locked both locks on the door before he and Scooter sat down on the sofa to enjoy the show. Tammy and I took our time with each other. I tasted her mouth, her neck, freed her breasts from her bra and sucked each of her tiny caramel nipples until they stood erect, headlights beaming in the direction of our spectators.

They rolled a blunt and smoked it as articles of clothing fell to the floor like petals as we deflowered one another. Once fully naked, I lead her to my bed and we pleasured one another in sixty-nine position for the men who had followed the exhibition into the next room. Tre took the baby oil from my dresser and, pulling his already too big pants down, oiled himself up before sliding into Tammy’s ass. She screamed in pained pleasure while I ate her and he fucked her. Scooter stood, grinning, smoking, and recording the entire scene. When Tre came, he smacked Tammy on her ass, making it ripple as she squirted her pleasure all over my face.

Tre went to wash up and Tammy collapsed on beside me on the bed. I sat up, face wet, and looked into Scooter’s camera. Licking Tammy off of my lips, I smirked.

“You just gone stand there and watch or you comin’ to get some of this pussy?”

Without a word, he sat his phone up on the dresser, continuing to record, and came out of his clothes, almost too easily. He walked up to the side of the bed to maintain a good recording angle, and motioned with his head.

“Come suck this dick,” he commanded.

Tre came out of the bathroom and stood beside him. I went back and forth between the two of them, taking each down my throat. Tammy joined in, sucking and fondling my breasts in between humming on their sacs. We’d gotten this thing down to a science and, though it had been years since all of us had been together, it was like riding a bike. They both came all over our faces and in our hair before tag teaming us into the dawn.

-----

The next morning, I woke up to limbs wrapped around each other. The sound of knocks on my door were the only thing that had broken my sound slumber. Ant only had a key to my bottom lock, so I knew it was him trying to get in. I smiled and, rather than go to the door, I took a mouthful of Tammy’s breast, her moans making me wet. She cracked her eyes and shook herself loose from Scooter’s grasp. We kissed and started up again.

Tre, who had fallen asleep inside of me, responded to our sex sounds and began stroking me from behind while Tammy gyrated on my face. Scooter woke up and joined the fun, shoving himself in Tammy’s mouth. His phone vibrated on the dresser. His baby mom was probably looking for him. Mine started vibrating, too. I smiled as I sucked on Tammy.

That’ll teach Ant to leave me hanging for Sheila, I thought to myself. The vengefulness of the act making Tammy taste that much sweeter.

*****

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If you want to read more, head on over to Amazon and grab your copy!

See you next time, loves! 'Til then, be kind to yourselves and each other!

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