Page 37 of His Favorite Felon

Pussy would’ve been my preferred payment option since I hadn’t had sex in eight months. He was the last person I had fucked. I know, it’s pitiful. It’s just that since my release, niggas were the last thing on my mind. Between him and my dad, I was good on men. I purchased a few toys to help me get off, but my hand normally did the job. I was quite skilled at getting my rocks off.

It was as if my body was reacting on its own. As I washed myself up twice, my hand seemed to get lower and lower even though I had washed my pussy twice. I was so horny, I didn’t want to masturbate while he was in my apartment, but I couldn’t help it.

I used my index and middle finger to slowly separate my lips. The water from the shower felt fucking amazing as I used my two fingers to circle my clit slowly. But it was like I was overly sensitive. I used my free hand to tweak my nipple, which caused me to throw my head back, enjoying this moment of pure bliss.

I slid my fingers inside and started to fuck them like it was Chance fingers. At the thought of his fingers being inside me, I came apart, hard. The hand that was on my breast was now covering my mouth.

I hope I wasn’t loud. Not that I cared, not really, but I needed that release. I left the bathroom to find my bedroom was empty. I took that time to moisturize and get dressed. I threw on some boy shorts and an oversized shirt. I went back into the bathroom to brush my teeth and to do my skincare routine.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw a full spread that was laid out before me. He had eggs, grits, pancakes, sausage, bacon, fruit, potatoes, biscuits, orange juice, and coffee. It looked like he had ordered everything off the menu and enough to feed ten people.

I stared at the spread. “Who exactly are we feeding?”

“You.”

“You are ridiculous. This is too much food,” I said as I looked around the kitchen.

He shrugged. “I’m sure your sister will be grateful whenever she gets home.”

Yeah, I guess he was right. He looked so fucking good, and he knew it too. He made our plates and set them at the little dining table we had. Before I could dig in, he grabbed my hand and bowed his head. He started to pray over our food. I was completely shocked at that because I don’t recall him ever praying the few times we shared a meal when I was locked up. Either way, prayer looked good on him, almost made me want to take him back to my bedroom and commit another sin but wth him instead of by myself.

We sat in comfortable silence for the most part. We talked about random things, but I mainly talked. I asked him about some of his favorite shows and music. Basic things, because clearly we were both starving.

Before leaving, he picked up my phone from the table.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Not that I had anything to hide, but I was suspicious of him just grabbing my phone. He turned my old iPhone 11 towards me to unlock it.

I hadn’t gotten around to getting an upgrade since I came home.

“Giving you my number.”

I blinked.

“You mean I didn’t have it?” The number I had for him was in service. I just assumed he didn’t want to answer when I was calling him.

“That was my old number. I got a new joint.”

I watched him type on my phone before handing it back to me.

“Call me if you need anything. I got to handle some business, but I’m around if you need me.”

“What kind of business you got on Saturday morning?” I asked.

“The kind that pays for whatever you want.”

I squinted my eyes at his vagueness. “Ummm, that sounds like a drug dealer answer.”

He laughed. “Stay out my business, Justice.”

“That sounds even more drug dealer-ish.”

He kissed my forehead and my attitude vanished instantly.

“Go use that black card today,” he suggested.

“For what?”

“Clothes. Shoes. Whatever you need,” he shrugged.