She lay on the bed beneath him, filling her lungs slowly beneath his weight. She liked the feel of every part of him–his beard scratching at the smoothness of her cheek, his tongue, hot and wet, playing along her earlobe, his fingertips tightening the slightest bit around her wrists.
“Oh, D’Clarkeon,” she whimpered in his ear, squirming.
“You like that, Sh’Quaydra’Nique?” he cooed back. By the way she was beginning to squirm, he already knew the answer. …Or so he thought.
“Yes, baby, it feels good, but something is wrong,” she said, throwing a hard arch into her back and pulling violently at the thong she wore.
“Yeah, you can’t wait to get outta them draws, can you girl?” he said.
“NO!” she screamed, throwing him off of her. “It burns! It BURNS!! Lord Jesus in heaven it feels like I’m bout to birth Beelzebub!!!”
It was then that she knew she had to tell him about the gonorrhea.
(h/t to britters_43!)
(note: actual title of an actual book, but not the actual text of said book. but it probably should be.)
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