When My Soul Met A Thug by Jessica N. Watkins

Author:Jessica N. Watkins [Watkins, Jessica N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Watkins Presents
Published: 2018-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

12

Angel

Russell and I had only been dating for about six months now. However, he had put in more work than any other man that I had ever experienced except my late husband. But I truly believed it was because he and Darnell were of the same caliber. Both were real men from the hood who knew how to stake claim on the woman that he wanted to become his. He knew how to court me and sweep me off of my feet with the same swag and confidence Darnell had. Russell and I had yet to discuss the details of a committed relationship. I believed it was because he knew that I had yet to even consider being with another man after Darnell. Yet, Russell had been so successful at changing my mind that my body had been yearning for his intimate touch for weeks.

“What are you thinking about?”

I jumped slightly at the sudden sound of Russell’s voice as if I weren’t lying in his bed right next to him. Nervously, I ran my hand over the back of my head through my tapered hair as I ignored the throbbing sensation between my legs.

“Angel…”

Shit. He was so dominant, so masculine.

“H-huh?” I stuttered.

When he chuckled, he was so undeniably handsome. “Baby, what’s up with you?” Before I responded, he reached over, placed his hand on my waist, and turned me towards him. “Talk to me.”

I had shared a bed with many men since Darnell, even in one of their T-shirts, as I currently was, but I had never felt such a need to be touched and loved.

I needed it. I had needed it for quite some time. I had just never felt comfortable enough to get it from anyone until now.

I just lay there smiling at Darnell, stuck between wanting him to fuck all five years of abstinence out of this pussy and not wanting to regret it.

He matched my smile, and we lay there in the darkness, the light from the television bouncing off of our faces.

Then he leaned over to kiss me, which wasn’t unnerving, because we had kissed so many times before. But, hell, I was forty years old, and I wanted him to do more than just kiss me. Finally, I wanted a man to make love to me. Russell had never pushed me any further than what I was comfortable with, but this was the first time I would do the pushing.

As we kissed, his hand held the front of my neck softly. I took my hand and placed it on top of it and slid it down, passed my chest and over my breast. His breathing became labored as he sensed what I wanted. He started playing with my breasts beneath his Nike shirt, and then my breath became heavy as well. I leaned into him, pressing my covered breasts to his bare chest. His tongue traced my lips as his hand started to hungrily caress my hips and ass. My fingers went into his hair, gripping his curls.

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