Passion Island, page 8
LaQuandra, Brenda, and Krista were then instructed to show their answers.
All three men answered correctly, and the women clapped.
“Okay, next question”—Dr. Dangerfield paused, giving everyone a chance to wipe their dry boards—“What is the name of your wife’s favorite love song, with name of its artist?”
Roselle and Kendall didn’t have to give much thought to the question. They’d heard the songs enough times to know the words to it.
“Mr. Lewis, answer, please,” Dr. Dangerfield prompted.
Hell if he knew. They rarely played music when they fucked. But he knew enough to know LaQuandra was strung-out on freaky-ass R. Kelly.
So he wrote his answer.
“Okay, gentlemen. Reveal your answers, please.”
Isaiah: HONEY LOVE R. KELLY
Roselle: XSCAPE WHO CAN I RUN TO
Kendall: SWEET LOVE ANITA BAKER
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said, “answers, please.”
Roselle and Kendall were correct.
LaQuandra slammed her board back on its easel. “Isaiah, you know Keyshia Cole’s ‘Love’ is my favorite song. Not ‘Honey Love.’ ”
He shrugged. “Thought you was big on him.”
She huffed. “I am. But that wasn’t the question, Isaaaaiah.”
Dr. Dangerfield kept from shaking her head. “Next question, gentlemen: what is your wife’s favorite television show?”
“Baby, you got this,” Brenda stated, and a buzzer blared out.
“Sorry, Mrs. Woods. That’ll cost you one point,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “There’s no talking across the Garden.”
“Shit,” she hissed.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Write out your answers, please.”
The music played again and LaQuandra found herself slowly rocking side-to-side as she hummed along. At this point, she didn’t give a damn if Isaiah knew her or not.
When the music faded again, that was everyone’s cue to show their answers.
Isaiah: THE HOUSEWIVES OF ATLANTA
Roselle: BEING MARY JANE
Kendall: RICH IN FAITH
Roselle and Kendall both answered correctly.
LaQuandra scoffed, revealing her answer: Little Women: Atlanta. “Isaiah, you know I don’t watch that trifling shit.”
He frowned. And Little Women: Atlanta wasn’t trifling? Whatever.
Brenda and Krista clapped.
The next question was, “What is your wife’s favorite color?”
The music faded again, and seconds later, each man was turning over his board.
Isaiah: BURGUNDY
Roselle: PINK
Kendall: NAVY BLUE
Roselle and Kendall were right yet again.
LaQuandra scoffed. “Ohmygod, Isaiah. How do you not know that one? You know I love purple.”
“Okay, gentlemen. Those were warm-ups. Now here come the real questions. Y’all ready?”
“Yeah!” Roselle said over a loud grunt. “Let’s do this!”
Dr. Dangerfield smiled. “Okay. Next question: what is the month and day of your wedding anniversary?”
Roselle and Kendall had their answers written in less than a minute.
“Mr. Lewis. Please. Your answer,” Dr. Dangerfield urged after the music had faded.
Isaiah scribbled his answer.
“Okay, gentlemen. Please turn your boards.”
Isaiah: 11/7
Roselle: 2/14
Kendall: 11/14
The women turned their boards around. Once again, Roselle and Kendall were correct. LaQuandra stamped her foot. “Motherfu—Isaiah, how you not gonna know this? It’s the seventeenth. Not the damn seventh.”
“I was close,” he said nonchalantly. What the fuck more did she want. At least he remembered the damn month. He took a long swig of his beer.
“Okay. So far we have the Evanses in the lead with ten. Followed by the Woodses with nine. And, finally, the Lewises with two.”
The next question was, “When is your wife’s birthday?”
Easy question, you would think. But Dr. Dangerfield knew many men who simply didn’t remember their wives’ birthdays.
Isaiah: JANUARY 1
Roselle: NOV 3
Kendall: APRIL 3
Once again, Roselle and Kendall had answered correctly.
LaQuandra was too through. Her birthday was December 31st. “C’mon, Isaiah. Get your head in the game, nigga!”
“Mrs. Lewis, please,” Dr. Dangerfield warned, pinning her with a raised brow. “I’m going to need you to refrain from using the N-word or any other derogatory language during the game. Please and thank you.”
LaQuandra rolled her eyes.
The next question was, “What is the most sensitive spot on your wife’s body?”
Brenda shimmied her shoulders. She knew her baby knew.
Several seconds later, the men were turning their boards.
Isaiah: BEHIND THE EARS
Roselle: CLITORIS
Kendall: NIPPLES
All three men answered correctly.
LaQuandra grunted. Finally, his ass got another one right. This motherfucker is gonna need to follow the yellow brick road in search of the Wizard for a new goddamn brain if he doesn’t step up his game, she mused as she shifted in her seat. She was still stuck on the fact that he hadn’t gotten their anniversary date right—or her goddamn birthday.
The last question for the men was, “At what age did your wife lose her virginity?”
Fuck if I know, Isaiah thought as he held the red marker in his hand and stared at the blank board.
Roselle and Kendall quickly wrote their answers.
“Mr. Lewis,” Dr. Dangerfield called out. “Answer, please.”
Isaiah: 11
Roselle: 14
Krista: 20
Roselle and Kendall were once again correct. LaQuandra nearly fell off her stool when she saw what Isaiah had written. The goddamn nerve of him! She hadn’t started fucking until she was twelve.
There was a brief intermission, giving the couples a chance to use the restrooms, saunter over toward the wet bar for a cocktail, or—in LaQuandra’s case—to curse Isaiah out.
“After all these years and you still don’t even know who I am, Isaiah,” she hissed. “How dare you embarrass us out here like that?”
Isaiah stared at her, hard. “So you think you can do better?”
LaQuandra grunted. “Nigga, I know I can.”
“Yeah, a’ight. We’ll see.” And then he walked off toward the bar. He needed something stronger than beer.
Several moments later, “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” played again and the men switched positions with the women.
Dr. Dangerfield shuffled her cards, and then spoke into the microphone as she glanced around the beautiful garden, before landing her gaze over at the women. “Okay, ladies. It’s time for one of you to bring it on home for the win. Each correct answer is now worth three points. Right now, we have the Evanses in the lead with sixteen points, followed by the Woodses with fifteen, and the Lewises with four.”
Everyone else clapped except LaQuandra and Isaiah. He’d utterly embarrassed her and now she would have to fight to carry them to a win. She wanted that trip.
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said as the music faded. “What is your husband’s favorite sport?”
The men wrote down their answers, and waited for the women.
LaQuandra: FOOTBALL
Brenda: BOXING
Krista: BASKETBALL
“Gentlemen, reveal your answers.”
Brenda and Krista were correct.
Isaiah smirked at LaQuandra, and then shook his head. Basketball was his thing.
The next question was, “What is your husband’s blood type?”
LaQuandra: HIV NEG?
Brenda: AB-
Krista: O+
Again, Brenda and Krista were correct.
Dr. Dangerfield blinked at LaQuandra’s answer. “Mrs. Lewis, the question was, what is your husband’s blood type, not his status.”
“I know,” LaQuandra stated flatly. “But are you, Isaiah?”
Roselle and Kendall slowly shook their heads, while Isaiah’s jaw twitched. This punk-ass bitch stays tryna play me, he thought as he gulped back his drink.
“Next question,” he snapped. Ignorant-ass. She knew he was O+.
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “What is your husband’s favorite sexual position?”
LaQuandra: DOGGY STYLE
Brenda: REVERSE COWGIRL
Krista: MISSIONARY
Dr. Dangerfield glanced over at the men. “Gentlemen, reveal your answers, please.”
Roselle’s tongue hung out of the side of his mouth, and then he rapidly moved it up and down at Brenda. She was the only one who’d gotten it right.
Isaiah preferred her to ride him, but he loved hitting his BM from the back. He loved watching all that ass bounce.
Kendall loved it doggy-style. He loved seeing his dick move in and out, while watching Krista’s asshole clench.
“Yasss,” Brenda said excitedly. “We’re in the lead, baby. Ha!”
Roselle rubbed his hands together. “French Riviera, here we come! Let’s do this, baby.”
“Okay, ladies. Next question: How often does your husband want sex with you?”
LaQuandra scoffed as she wrote her answer.
“Ladies, please turn your boards around.”
LaQuandra: NONE
Brenda: 3-4X A DAY
Krista: 4X A WEEK
All three women were correct. And now the score was twenty-five for the Woodses, twenty-three for the Evanses and the Lewises at seven.
“Next question: does your husband prefer to wear boxers or boxer briefs?”
Of course the women knew this one since they were the ones buying their husbands’ underwear.
LaQuandra: BOTH
Brenda: BOTH
Krista: BOTH
The next question was, “When giving your husband oral, does he prefer you to swallow or spit?”
Krista frowned as she wrote her answer.
“Your answers, ladies.”
LaQuandra: SWALLOW
Brenda: SWALLOW
Krista: NEITHER
LaQuandra and Brenda answered correctly. Krista narrowed her eyes at Kendall’s board, taking in his response in big red letters. SWALLOW
Oh, he must have had one drink too many to even think some shit like that, Krista thought, raising a brow, then erasing her answer.
Brenda hopped up and down and squealed. She felt like doing a happy dance. Unless she got the rest of her answers wrong (she’d be damned if she would, thank you very much!), there was no way Krista and Kendall would catch up to her and Roselle.
The next question was, “Does your husband have a fetish?”
While Dr. Dangerfield waited for the couples to write on their boards, she glanced over at the men, wondering what those fetishes might be. She imagined Roselle secretly enjoying bondage or the feel of women’s panties on under his True Religions; Isaiah was probably a pygophilia—sexually fixated on a woman’s ass; and, Kendall—well, Dr. Dangerfield imagined him either being a voyeur or lusting over women’s feet.
The music faded, pulling Dr. Dangerfield from her naughty thoughts. She licked her lips, then swallowed. “Okay, ladies. Your answers, please.”
The three women revealed their answers.
LaQuandra: NO
Brenda: YES
Krista: NO
When the men revealed their answers, LaQuandra frowned. Krista grimaced—she felt blindsided. Exactly what type of fetish did Kendall have? And why hadn’t she gotten the memo? And Brenda screamed excitedly as she hopped up and down.
LaQuandra blurted out, “What fetish do you have, Isaiah, huh? You just full of goddamn surprises tonight, nigga?”
Dr. Dangerfield cringed inwardly. “Mrs. Lewis, unfortunately, due to your blatant disregard of my request to refrain from using the N-word, that outburst will cost you six points, bringing your score back down to seven.”
“Womp, womp, womp,” came from out of the speakers.
LaQuandra scowled. Bitch, bye. Fuck a score. Fuck this shit.
Isaiah shook his head. She stayed doing the most.
“I don’t know what you over there shaking your head for, Isaaaaaiah. I wanna know who the fuck you out there having fetishes with?”
Dr. Dangerfield tapped on the microphone. “Um, hello. Mrs. Lewis. Do you need a moment?”
“No,” LaQuandra snapped, looking over at her. “I don’t need a moment.” She glared back over at Isaiah. “I need an answer, Isaaaaaaiah.”
“Mrs. Lewis, I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from any further outburst. Your concerns can be discussed further after the game—in private.”
LaQuandra took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Next question,” she snapped.
“Great. Okay, ladies. Right now we have the Woodses in the lead with thirty-six points, followed by the Evanses with twenty-eight points. And Mr. and Mrs. Lewis with seven points . . .”
Brenda rolled her eyes up in her head at the Lewises’ score. It was real telling. And a damn shame, she thought.
“This next and final question,” Dr. Dangerfield continued, “is for the win. Ladies, does your husband masturbate?”
Brenda and Krista were the first to write their answers on their respective boards.
“Mrs. Lewis. Your answer, please.”
The bastard probably is jacking his dick, LaQuandra thought as she wrote her answer, since he ain’t jacking it inside of me.
“Okay, ladies. Turn your boards.”
LaQuandra: YES
Brenda: YES
Krista: NO
The men revealed their answers. LaQuandra and Brenda were correct. Krista had a surprised look on her face at Kendall’s answer—yes. She wondered why the hell he would be playing with himself when she kept him fucked. Krista stood there dumbfounded as Brenda screamed and Roselle ran around from his booth and swept her in his arms, swinging her around.
Bells and horns blared out. Confetti burst out of trumpets.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Woods,” Dr. Dangerfield said over the hoopla. “You are the winners of . . .”
LaQuandra half-clapped.
“I . . .”
Isaiah headed for the bar.
“Know . . .”
Krista stared Kendall down.
“You . . .”
Kendall sighed.
“Best . . .”
Twelve
Roselle’s dick was hard. And if he were embarrassed by that fact, he wouldn’t have stood up in his Speedo swim trunks with his thick bulge on display. Fact was, he wasn’t ashamed of his dick, erect or flaccid. Shit. He was a man. All man. And men got aroused.
So what was there to be ashamed of?
He was proud of his smooth, golden-brown dick. Back when he was in high school, it’d been given the name “Beauty” because it was just that—beautiful. And because of the beauty mole on the front of his shaft, just over the thick vein. The name stuck with him all through high school, college, and even now.
Horny bitches loved his dick.
They loved Beauty.
So if a chick—or another motherfucker—was bold enough to stare at it, oh fucking well. He’d proudly give them a full view.
Roselle, Isaiah, and Kendall were ushered off to one of the private beaches without their wives and, so far, it was a day of peaceful bliss. There were about thirty half-naked women of different shapes and sizes (who all had one thing in common—they were stunningly beautiful) on the beach with them. Eye candy was everywhere, and none of the men could stop eyeballing all of the bouncing ass and jiggling breasts.
Arabian belly dance music played through the speakers, while the men were being waited on hand and foot. It wasn’t the type of music any of them would ordinarily listen to. But, then again, there was nothing ordinary about this island, or its inhabitants. So the men sat back and drank their respective drinks and watched as a group of women sensually danced for their viewing pleasure.
“Damn, that dark chocolate one gotta nice, fat ass,” Roselle said. “I’d like to bend her over while she holds open them ass cheeks and I push this meat up in her.”
Isaiah shook his head. “Bruh, you crazy.”
“Nah. I’m dead-ass. Tell me you wouldn’t go guts deep in that?”
Isaiah looked over at the thick-hipped, D-cup Antiguan with the dark chocolate nipples and an ass that would put most porn stars to shame. Yeah, he’d definitely fuck her. She slowly turned, bent at the waist, placing her hands on her knees and then making each ass cheek bounce in sync to the music.
Isaiah’s eyes stayed glued on her, and when he didn’t respond, Roselle laughed. “Bruh, you can’t even take your eyes off that ass. So don’t front. You’d fuck that. Shit. We all would.”
Kendall laughed as well, but said nothing. She was nice to look at, and he’d definitely be down to peek inside them cheeks and look at her butthole, maybe even lick over it. But fucking her—nah.
Roselle rubbed a hand over the front of his skimpy swimwear. “You think her pussy stink?” he asked, no one in particular.
“Fuck if I know,” Isaiah stated. He took a swig of his beer. “I would hope not. She too bad to be walking around with a stink-hole.”
Roselle gulped back his drink. “You’ll be surprised how many dimes look like they got that good-good until that shit gets wet ‘n’ starts smelling like a septic tank.”
Isaiah made a face. “Eww. Fuck.”
“Damn, man. That was some random shit,” Kendall said. “Where do you come up with this shit?”
“Can I get you gentlemen anything else to drink?” asked the young woman wearing a multicolored bikini top and matching sarong, walking up on them. She had smooth, deep-brown skin and slightly slanted brown eyes. She’d been serving the three men one of the island’s specialty drinks, Passion Drops, which consisted of part Grand Marnier, Chambord, Malibu Coconut Rum, cranberry and pineapple juices. And at the bottom of a chilled glass were layered chunks of pineapples that had been soaking in Jim Beam Honey whiskey.
Roselle was on his fourth drink. And he was lit. Two more and he’d be near drunk. While Isaiah and Roselle drank the island special, Kendall stuck with bottles of Vonu Pure Lager—a local beer.
All three men answered correctly, and the women clapped.
“Okay, next question”—Dr. Dangerfield paused, giving everyone a chance to wipe their dry boards—“What is the name of your wife’s favorite love song, with name of its artist?”
Roselle and Kendall didn’t have to give much thought to the question. They’d heard the songs enough times to know the words to it.
“Mr. Lewis, answer, please,” Dr. Dangerfield prompted.
Hell if he knew. They rarely played music when they fucked. But he knew enough to know LaQuandra was strung-out on freaky-ass R. Kelly.
So he wrote his answer.
“Okay, gentlemen. Reveal your answers, please.”
Isaiah: HONEY LOVE R. KELLY
Roselle: XSCAPE WHO CAN I RUN TO
Kendall: SWEET LOVE ANITA BAKER
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said, “answers, please.”
Roselle and Kendall were correct.
LaQuandra slammed her board back on its easel. “Isaiah, you know Keyshia Cole’s ‘Love’ is my favorite song. Not ‘Honey Love.’ ”
He shrugged. “Thought you was big on him.”
She huffed. “I am. But that wasn’t the question, Isaaaaiah.”
Dr. Dangerfield kept from shaking her head. “Next question, gentlemen: what is your wife’s favorite television show?”
“Baby, you got this,” Brenda stated, and a buzzer blared out.
“Sorry, Mrs. Woods. That’ll cost you one point,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “There’s no talking across the Garden.”
“Shit,” she hissed.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Write out your answers, please.”
The music played again and LaQuandra found herself slowly rocking side-to-side as she hummed along. At this point, she didn’t give a damn if Isaiah knew her or not.
When the music faded again, that was everyone’s cue to show their answers.
Isaiah: THE HOUSEWIVES OF ATLANTA
Roselle: BEING MARY JANE
Kendall: RICH IN FAITH
Roselle and Kendall both answered correctly.
LaQuandra scoffed, revealing her answer: Little Women: Atlanta. “Isaiah, you know I don’t watch that trifling shit.”
He frowned. And Little Women: Atlanta wasn’t trifling? Whatever.
Brenda and Krista clapped.
The next question was, “What is your wife’s favorite color?”
The music faded again, and seconds later, each man was turning over his board.
Isaiah: BURGUNDY
Roselle: PINK
Kendall: NAVY BLUE
Roselle and Kendall were right yet again.
LaQuandra scoffed. “Ohmygod, Isaiah. How do you not know that one? You know I love purple.”
“Okay, gentlemen. Those were warm-ups. Now here come the real questions. Y’all ready?”
“Yeah!” Roselle said over a loud grunt. “Let’s do this!”
Dr. Dangerfield smiled. “Okay. Next question: what is the month and day of your wedding anniversary?”
Roselle and Kendall had their answers written in less than a minute.
“Mr. Lewis. Please. Your answer,” Dr. Dangerfield urged after the music had faded.
Isaiah scribbled his answer.
“Okay, gentlemen. Please turn your boards.”
Isaiah: 11/7
Roselle: 2/14
Kendall: 11/14
The women turned their boards around. Once again, Roselle and Kendall were correct. LaQuandra stamped her foot. “Motherfu—Isaiah, how you not gonna know this? It’s the seventeenth. Not the damn seventh.”
“I was close,” he said nonchalantly. What the fuck more did she want. At least he remembered the damn month. He took a long swig of his beer.
“Okay. So far we have the Evanses in the lead with ten. Followed by the Woodses with nine. And, finally, the Lewises with two.”
The next question was, “When is your wife’s birthday?”
Easy question, you would think. But Dr. Dangerfield knew many men who simply didn’t remember their wives’ birthdays.
Isaiah: JANUARY 1
Roselle: NOV 3
Kendall: APRIL 3
Once again, Roselle and Kendall had answered correctly.
LaQuandra was too through. Her birthday was December 31st. “C’mon, Isaiah. Get your head in the game, nigga!”
“Mrs. Lewis, please,” Dr. Dangerfield warned, pinning her with a raised brow. “I’m going to need you to refrain from using the N-word or any other derogatory language during the game. Please and thank you.”
LaQuandra rolled her eyes.
The next question was, “What is the most sensitive spot on your wife’s body?”
Brenda shimmied her shoulders. She knew her baby knew.
Several seconds later, the men were turning their boards.
Isaiah: BEHIND THE EARS
Roselle: CLITORIS
Kendall: NIPPLES
All three men answered correctly.
LaQuandra grunted. Finally, his ass got another one right. This motherfucker is gonna need to follow the yellow brick road in search of the Wizard for a new goddamn brain if he doesn’t step up his game, she mused as she shifted in her seat. She was still stuck on the fact that he hadn’t gotten their anniversary date right—or her goddamn birthday.
The last question for the men was, “At what age did your wife lose her virginity?”
Fuck if I know, Isaiah thought as he held the red marker in his hand and stared at the blank board.
Roselle and Kendall quickly wrote their answers.
“Mr. Lewis,” Dr. Dangerfield called out. “Answer, please.”
Isaiah: 11
Roselle: 14
Krista: 20
Roselle and Kendall were once again correct. LaQuandra nearly fell off her stool when she saw what Isaiah had written. The goddamn nerve of him! She hadn’t started fucking until she was twelve.
There was a brief intermission, giving the couples a chance to use the restrooms, saunter over toward the wet bar for a cocktail, or—in LaQuandra’s case—to curse Isaiah out.
“After all these years and you still don’t even know who I am, Isaiah,” she hissed. “How dare you embarrass us out here like that?”
Isaiah stared at her, hard. “So you think you can do better?”
LaQuandra grunted. “Nigga, I know I can.”
“Yeah, a’ight. We’ll see.” And then he walked off toward the bar. He needed something stronger than beer.
Several moments later, “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” played again and the men switched positions with the women.
Dr. Dangerfield shuffled her cards, and then spoke into the microphone as she glanced around the beautiful garden, before landing her gaze over at the women. “Okay, ladies. It’s time for one of you to bring it on home for the win. Each correct answer is now worth three points. Right now, we have the Evanses in the lead with sixteen points, followed by the Woodses with fifteen, and the Lewises with four.”
Everyone else clapped except LaQuandra and Isaiah. He’d utterly embarrassed her and now she would have to fight to carry them to a win. She wanted that trip.
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said as the music faded. “What is your husband’s favorite sport?”
The men wrote down their answers, and waited for the women.
LaQuandra: FOOTBALL
Brenda: BOXING
Krista: BASKETBALL
“Gentlemen, reveal your answers.”
Brenda and Krista were correct.
Isaiah smirked at LaQuandra, and then shook his head. Basketball was his thing.
The next question was, “What is your husband’s blood type?”
LaQuandra: HIV NEG?
Brenda: AB-
Krista: O+
Again, Brenda and Krista were correct.
Dr. Dangerfield blinked at LaQuandra’s answer. “Mrs. Lewis, the question was, what is your husband’s blood type, not his status.”
“I know,” LaQuandra stated flatly. “But are you, Isaiah?”
Roselle and Kendall slowly shook their heads, while Isaiah’s jaw twitched. This punk-ass bitch stays tryna play me, he thought as he gulped back his drink.
“Next question,” he snapped. Ignorant-ass. She knew he was O+.
“Okay, ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “What is your husband’s favorite sexual position?”
LaQuandra: DOGGY STYLE
Brenda: REVERSE COWGIRL
Krista: MISSIONARY
Dr. Dangerfield glanced over at the men. “Gentlemen, reveal your answers, please.”
Roselle’s tongue hung out of the side of his mouth, and then he rapidly moved it up and down at Brenda. She was the only one who’d gotten it right.
Isaiah preferred her to ride him, but he loved hitting his BM from the back. He loved watching all that ass bounce.
Kendall loved it doggy-style. He loved seeing his dick move in and out, while watching Krista’s asshole clench.
“Yasss,” Brenda said excitedly. “We’re in the lead, baby. Ha!”
Roselle rubbed his hands together. “French Riviera, here we come! Let’s do this, baby.”
“Okay, ladies. Next question: How often does your husband want sex with you?”
LaQuandra scoffed as she wrote her answer.
“Ladies, please turn your boards around.”
LaQuandra: NONE
Brenda: 3-4X A DAY
Krista: 4X A WEEK
All three women were correct. And now the score was twenty-five for the Woodses, twenty-three for the Evanses and the Lewises at seven.
“Next question: does your husband prefer to wear boxers or boxer briefs?”
Of course the women knew this one since they were the ones buying their husbands’ underwear.
LaQuandra: BOTH
Brenda: BOTH
Krista: BOTH
The next question was, “When giving your husband oral, does he prefer you to swallow or spit?”
Krista frowned as she wrote her answer.
“Your answers, ladies.”
LaQuandra: SWALLOW
Brenda: SWALLOW
Krista: NEITHER
LaQuandra and Brenda answered correctly. Krista narrowed her eyes at Kendall’s board, taking in his response in big red letters. SWALLOW
Oh, he must have had one drink too many to even think some shit like that, Krista thought, raising a brow, then erasing her answer.
Brenda hopped up and down and squealed. She felt like doing a happy dance. Unless she got the rest of her answers wrong (she’d be damned if she would, thank you very much!), there was no way Krista and Kendall would catch up to her and Roselle.
The next question was, “Does your husband have a fetish?”
While Dr. Dangerfield waited for the couples to write on their boards, she glanced over at the men, wondering what those fetishes might be. She imagined Roselle secretly enjoying bondage or the feel of women’s panties on under his True Religions; Isaiah was probably a pygophilia—sexually fixated on a woman’s ass; and, Kendall—well, Dr. Dangerfield imagined him either being a voyeur or lusting over women’s feet.
The music faded, pulling Dr. Dangerfield from her naughty thoughts. She licked her lips, then swallowed. “Okay, ladies. Your answers, please.”
The three women revealed their answers.
LaQuandra: NO
Brenda: YES
Krista: NO
When the men revealed their answers, LaQuandra frowned. Krista grimaced—she felt blindsided. Exactly what type of fetish did Kendall have? And why hadn’t she gotten the memo? And Brenda screamed excitedly as she hopped up and down.
LaQuandra blurted out, “What fetish do you have, Isaiah, huh? You just full of goddamn surprises tonight, nigga?”
Dr. Dangerfield cringed inwardly. “Mrs. Lewis, unfortunately, due to your blatant disregard of my request to refrain from using the N-word, that outburst will cost you six points, bringing your score back down to seven.”
“Womp, womp, womp,” came from out of the speakers.
LaQuandra scowled. Bitch, bye. Fuck a score. Fuck this shit.
Isaiah shook his head. She stayed doing the most.
“I don’t know what you over there shaking your head for, Isaaaaaiah. I wanna know who the fuck you out there having fetishes with?”
Dr. Dangerfield tapped on the microphone. “Um, hello. Mrs. Lewis. Do you need a moment?”
“No,” LaQuandra snapped, looking over at her. “I don’t need a moment.” She glared back over at Isaiah. “I need an answer, Isaaaaaaiah.”
“Mrs. Lewis, I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from any further outburst. Your concerns can be discussed further after the game—in private.”
LaQuandra took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Next question,” she snapped.
“Great. Okay, ladies. Right now we have the Woodses in the lead with thirty-six points, followed by the Evanses with twenty-eight points. And Mr. and Mrs. Lewis with seven points . . .”
Brenda rolled her eyes up in her head at the Lewises’ score. It was real telling. And a damn shame, she thought.
“This next and final question,” Dr. Dangerfield continued, “is for the win. Ladies, does your husband masturbate?”
Brenda and Krista were the first to write their answers on their respective boards.
“Mrs. Lewis. Your answer, please.”
The bastard probably is jacking his dick, LaQuandra thought as she wrote her answer, since he ain’t jacking it inside of me.
“Okay, ladies. Turn your boards.”
LaQuandra: YES
Brenda: YES
Krista: NO
The men revealed their answers. LaQuandra and Brenda were correct. Krista had a surprised look on her face at Kendall’s answer—yes. She wondered why the hell he would be playing with himself when she kept him fucked. Krista stood there dumbfounded as Brenda screamed and Roselle ran around from his booth and swept her in his arms, swinging her around.
Bells and horns blared out. Confetti burst out of trumpets.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Woods,” Dr. Dangerfield said over the hoopla. “You are the winners of . . .”
LaQuandra half-clapped.
“I . . .”
Isaiah headed for the bar.
“Know . . .”
Krista stared Kendall down.
“You . . .”
Kendall sighed.
“Best . . .”
Twelve
Roselle’s dick was hard. And if he were embarrassed by that fact, he wouldn’t have stood up in his Speedo swim trunks with his thick bulge on display. Fact was, he wasn’t ashamed of his dick, erect or flaccid. Shit. He was a man. All man. And men got aroused.
So what was there to be ashamed of?
He was proud of his smooth, golden-brown dick. Back when he was in high school, it’d been given the name “Beauty” because it was just that—beautiful. And because of the beauty mole on the front of his shaft, just over the thick vein. The name stuck with him all through high school, college, and even now.
Horny bitches loved his dick.
They loved Beauty.
So if a chick—or another motherfucker—was bold enough to stare at it, oh fucking well. He’d proudly give them a full view.
Roselle, Isaiah, and Kendall were ushered off to one of the private beaches without their wives and, so far, it was a day of peaceful bliss. There were about thirty half-naked women of different shapes and sizes (who all had one thing in common—they were stunningly beautiful) on the beach with them. Eye candy was everywhere, and none of the men could stop eyeballing all of the bouncing ass and jiggling breasts.
Arabian belly dance music played through the speakers, while the men were being waited on hand and foot. It wasn’t the type of music any of them would ordinarily listen to. But, then again, there was nothing ordinary about this island, or its inhabitants. So the men sat back and drank their respective drinks and watched as a group of women sensually danced for their viewing pleasure.
“Damn, that dark chocolate one gotta nice, fat ass,” Roselle said. “I’d like to bend her over while she holds open them ass cheeks and I push this meat up in her.”
Isaiah shook his head. “Bruh, you crazy.”
“Nah. I’m dead-ass. Tell me you wouldn’t go guts deep in that?”
Isaiah looked over at the thick-hipped, D-cup Antiguan with the dark chocolate nipples and an ass that would put most porn stars to shame. Yeah, he’d definitely fuck her. She slowly turned, bent at the waist, placing her hands on her knees and then making each ass cheek bounce in sync to the music.
Isaiah’s eyes stayed glued on her, and when he didn’t respond, Roselle laughed. “Bruh, you can’t even take your eyes off that ass. So don’t front. You’d fuck that. Shit. We all would.”
Kendall laughed as well, but said nothing. She was nice to look at, and he’d definitely be down to peek inside them cheeks and look at her butthole, maybe even lick over it. But fucking her—nah.
Roselle rubbed a hand over the front of his skimpy swimwear. “You think her pussy stink?” he asked, no one in particular.
“Fuck if I know,” Isaiah stated. He took a swig of his beer. “I would hope not. She too bad to be walking around with a stink-hole.”
Roselle gulped back his drink. “You’ll be surprised how many dimes look like they got that good-good until that shit gets wet ‘n’ starts smelling like a septic tank.”
Isaiah made a face. “Eww. Fuck.”
“Damn, man. That was some random shit,” Kendall said. “Where do you come up with this shit?”
“Can I get you gentlemen anything else to drink?” asked the young woman wearing a multicolored bikini top and matching sarong, walking up on them. She had smooth, deep-brown skin and slightly slanted brown eyes. She’d been serving the three men one of the island’s specialty drinks, Passion Drops, which consisted of part Grand Marnier, Chambord, Malibu Coconut Rum, cranberry and pineapple juices. And at the bottom of a chilled glass were layered chunks of pineapples that had been soaking in Jim Beam Honey whiskey.
Roselle was on his fourth drink. And he was lit. Two more and he’d be near drunk. While Isaiah and Roselle drank the island special, Kendall stuck with bottles of Vonu Pure Lager—a local beer.
