My Husband's Mistress 2. Racquel Williams

My Husband's Mistress 2 - Racquel Williams


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days now.”

      “Well, I couldn’t answer the phone. I was busy.”

      “Busy? Nigga, did you see the motherfucking news?” he yelled.

      “News? Why would I need to see the news?” My anxiety level skyrocketed.

      What the fuck is this nigga talking about? I thought.

      “Nigga, you know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

      “No, I don’t know. As a matter of fact, if you need an attorney, I’m willing to be your attorney, Mr. Brooks.”

      “What the fuck! You acting like you ain’t hired me to off that nigga. Now you acting brand-new and shit. I’m telling you, pussy, if I go down, you going with me. I’m pretty sure there’s a district attorney that would love to give me a deal if I gave him a bigger fish to fry.”

      That statement got my attention fast. This old fake-ass thug was talking about snitching on me. I tell you about these streets niggas that claim they go hard, but all it takes is a charge, and they’d start singing like a bird.

      “Yo, what do you want from me?” I said in an aggressive tone.

      “Shit, it’s hot right now, and I need to be ghost. I need fifty grand by the end of the week.”

      “What the fuck! I ain’t got that kind of money lying around.”

      “Maybe not, but I know you got it somewhere. Shit, you might need to hit that wife of yours. She’s got a few coins,” he chuckled.

      “We’re getting a divorce.”

      “Listen up, fuck nigga. I ’ont give a fuck where you get it from. You have until Friday evening to get it to me.” Then he hung up.

      “Fuck,” I whispered as I rubbed my hand over my face.

      I couldn’t believe that this fuck nigga was blackmailing me. Where the fuck does he expect me to get fifty grand from without raising an alarm? I was also curious to find out what he was talking about. What was on the news that had him so spooked? God, I prayed my name wasn’t mixed up in this shit. I couldn’t go to prison—I just couldn’t.

      Chapter Seven

      Destiny Clarke

      The first night that I spent with Spencer was peaceful. He took me to his home. At first, I was a little reluctant because I really didn’t know too much about him. For all I knew, he could be a rapist. It was late, and I was tired from everything that had happened earlier. I was still shocked that Hassan popped up at the house like that.

      I took a quick shower and changed into my pajamas. Then I lay in the bed beside him, inhaling his masculine scent, which made me gasp for air. It’s been awhile since I was this close to a man, one that I was attracted to, physically and mentally. I relaxed as he lay behind me with his arms wrapped around me. I lay there thinking of how great it felt, wondering if this could possibly mean happiness. Neither of us spoke. Then I peacefully dozed off....

      * * *

      Spencer dropped me off at my house in the morning. Hassan was gone, which was great. I had such a great night and didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. I thought back on last night, and it was perfect, even though sex wasn’t involved. The mental part of it was all I needed.

      Spencer and my relationship grew stronger over the next couple of weeks. I still hadn’t slept with him, and he didn’t pursue me on that level, even though we slept in the same bed on the weekends when Amaiya was at my mother’s house.

      I ain’t going to lie. I was ready to feel him inside of me. At first, I didn’t want to rush into anything. But fuck Hassan. The truth is, he wasn’t worried about me when he was fucking them bitches, so why the fuck I should worry about his ass? Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean he can get away with dogging me out. I wish he had walked in on Spencer digging my guts out. I would’ve loved to see his face.

      One evening after dinner, Spencer and I went back to his house. We were sitting on the couch, drinking and talking. He leaned in and started kissing me. He began rubbing my legs. Then his hand slowly traveled up my dress. My body trembled as he found his way between my legs. I wanted him badly. Fuck that—I wanted him now. He pulled my underwear aside and gently massaged my clit. My pussy was already moist and ready for him to slide in. He eased up off the couch and kneeled in front of me. I knew exactly what he was about to do....

      “Stop! You can’t do that,” I blurted out.

      “Baby, I want to. You want me to. Let me please you like I know I can,” he pleaded.

      “It’s not that. I d-o, do want you,” I stuttered.

      “So, what’s the problem?”

      I took his hands in mine, and then I spoke. “I don’t want to scare you away, but I have herpes....” I held my breath after the words left my mouth.

      “You’re joking. You’re just trying to scare me off,” he laughed.

      “Seriously, A few months ago, I found out I had it. Hassan infected me.”

      There was a long pause between us. . . .

      He squeezed my hand. “Babe, I’m so sorry. Man, I want to kill that nigga for all the shit he put you through. Man, oh man.” He shook his head.

      My heart was racing because I didn’t know if he was going to break it off with me. I knew that this was a chance I was taking, but I didn’t have a choice. There was no way I was going to infect him or put his health at risk.

      “Babe, get out of your thoughts. I know you’re wondering if I’m going to leave you. Hell no, I’m a grown man, and you’re the woman that I want. There is nothing or no one that can get in the way of that. I ’ont know too much about herpes, but I guess there are ways to get around it. We’re goin’ figure it out together. I want you, Destiny, not just physically, but mentally.”

      I wiped away the tears as this man spoke from his heart. Just when I thought I was damaged goods because I had an STD that couldn’t be cured, this man was willing to accept me.

      “Dry them tears. You’re a beautiful person inside out, and I can only hope you will give me the chance to treat you like you deserve.”

      I couldn’t find the words to say anything, so I remained quiet and just let the tears flow.

      That night after we got all the emotional stuff out of the way, Spencer carried me upstairs. He slowly stripped off my clothes. I watched as he took off his clothes. My eyes popped open when I saw the little six-inch cock he pulled out.

      Lord, what is he going to do with that little thing? I thought. It was even worse when I saw him pull out a Magnum condom. I thought Magnums were made for big cocks. I couldn’t say another word. I just lay there.

      I closed my eyes as he massaged my breasts. His touch made my body tremble. I wanted him. I had no idea why, but I did. I was wet and bothered and wanted to be fucked. I was nervous because I didn’t know how it was going to work out with his little size. He spread my legs apart and slid his erect cock inside my hungry pussy.

      “Oh-oh,” I groaned out in ecstasy.

      He slowly slid in and worked the middle like a pro. In that instance, the size didn’t matter. He pounded my walls as I dug my fingernails into his back. I had multiple orgasms back-to-back. I felt like my brain was coming out of my head the way juice was spilling out of me.

      “Aargh, aargh, aaaargh,” he groaned as he busted.

      I couldn’t move. I felt like all my energy had evaporated from my body. I lay there for a few minutes, thinking. I actually enjoyed this. He made love to my mind and my body, and I loved every second of it. This was something that I could get used to, but, first, I needed to divorce that bum-ass nigga. Just the thought of him dimmed my happiness for a brief moment. I quickly snapped out of that foul mood and focused on the


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