Dear Zane,
First and foremost, allow me to say thank you for novels that are intensifying to the mind, body and soul! My boyfriend and I have been together for six years, on and off. We both decided to give up the lives we once led to share one together. He is twenty-seven with one child and I am twenty-six with no offspring…at the moment! This is the first consistent year that we have been together. We now live together. However, he is beginning his law career in another state next year and asked me to come with him. I happily agreed. Because of our past, I wanted to take precautions. Would it be absurd for me to insist that we become engaged before we continue our journey together?
Signed,
Needed Advice
Dear Needed Advice,
What would be absurd is for you not to insist on being engaged—or better yet married—before you move with him to another state. While you are both still relatively young (under 30), six years is long enough for anyone to test drive a vehicle for any journey, like the one you have agreed to take together. You already live together, you have accepted his child, but now you are planning to make a huge sacrifice by following the man across state lines. I commend you for wanting to make sure that you will not find yourself in a crazy predicament after giving up so much to be with him. If he is not ready to get married, or at least ready to start making preparations to get married, you should reconsider the move. That does not mean that the relationship has to end but you certainly have to protect your best interest.
Blessings,
Zane
Monday, December 27, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sexing the Wrong Man
Dear Zane,
I have been sexing my godmother’s best friend that she’s in love with. She has no clue. The sex is great and he brings out all of the freak in me. He’s the best man that I’ve ever fucked…period. His head game is also the best. We were giving each other head before we fucked. He makes me feel so comfortable with myself. We can text and talk for hours. He has had sex with her a number of times but lately, he says he’s only been fucking me. I want him all to myself but I know that’s not possible. Should I leave him alone totally or continue as we are?
Signed,
Sexing the Wrong Man
Dear Sexing the Wrong Man,
You are definitely not going to like my response. Hell yes, you should leave his nasty ass alone. What would make you want to suck on or spread your legs for a man who is doing the same thing to your godmother? You should find the mere thought of that repulsive but it is obvious that he has penis-whipped you into a mental lapse.
Your godmother is much more important in your life than this man who has no self-respect and, thus, certainly has no respect for you, or her. There are wayyyyyyyyyyyyy too many men in this world for you to share one PERIOD, rather less with someone who regards you highly enough to agree to be your godmother.
Ironically, you mention not a single word of having any feelings for him. Only that he has a serious head game and brings out the freak in you. This “sexing” might last for a hot minute, he might teach you a few tricks, but in the end, you will be left feeling like a trick. Regardless of what he says to you, you are nothing but a piece of meat to him. How could you be anything more?
You need to stop talking this fool’s calls, text messages, emails, or any other form of communication. Times are hard but they are not that damn hard. You need to leave him alone and you also need to work on self-love because it is ridiculous for you to even entertain sleeping with him, rather less actually doing it. As to whether or not you should tell your godmother, that it tricky. If you tell her, she will definitely be hurt because she has trusted both of you. If you don’t tell her, you are leaving her in the arms of a predator and she will ultimately be hurt anyway. I guarantee you that he is bullshitting you about not sleeping with her anymore. He is still sleeping with her and probably a few other chicks that you don’t know about. You can do better. Great sex is cool but not at such a high expense.
Blessings,
Zane
I have been sexing my godmother’s best friend that she’s in love with. She has no clue. The sex is great and he brings out all of the freak in me. He’s the best man that I’ve ever fucked…period. His head game is also the best. We were giving each other head before we fucked. He makes me feel so comfortable with myself. We can text and talk for hours. He has had sex with her a number of times but lately, he says he’s only been fucking me. I want him all to myself but I know that’s not possible. Should I leave him alone totally or continue as we are?
Signed,
Sexing the Wrong Man
Dear Sexing the Wrong Man,
You are definitely not going to like my response. Hell yes, you should leave his nasty ass alone. What would make you want to suck on or spread your legs for a man who is doing the same thing to your godmother? You should find the mere thought of that repulsive but it is obvious that he has penis-whipped you into a mental lapse.
Your godmother is much more important in your life than this man who has no self-respect and, thus, certainly has no respect for you, or her. There are wayyyyyyyyyyyyy too many men in this world for you to share one PERIOD, rather less with someone who regards you highly enough to agree to be your godmother.
Ironically, you mention not a single word of having any feelings for him. Only that he has a serious head game and brings out the freak in you. This “sexing” might last for a hot minute, he might teach you a few tricks, but in the end, you will be left feeling like a trick. Regardless of what he says to you, you are nothing but a piece of meat to him. How could you be anything more?
You need to stop talking this fool’s calls, text messages, emails, or any other form of communication. Times are hard but they are not that damn hard. You need to leave him alone and you also need to work on self-love because it is ridiculous for you to even entertain sleeping with him, rather less actually doing it. As to whether or not you should tell your godmother, that it tricky. If you tell her, she will definitely be hurt because she has trusted both of you. If you don’t tell her, you are leaving her in the arms of a predator and she will ultimately be hurt anyway. I guarantee you that he is bullshitting you about not sleeping with her anymore. He is still sleeping with her and probably a few other chicks that you don’t know about. You can do better. Great sex is cool but not at such a high expense.
Blessings,
Zane
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Here is your chance to be in a Zane book!
CHOCOLATE FLAVA 3: The Eroticanoir.com Anthology Edited by Zane
Zane is seeking submissions for Chocolate Flava 3: The Eroticanoir.com Anthology to be published by ATRIA/Simon and Schuster. Stories must prominently feature African-Americans in one or more of the key roles. Stories should be between 2,500-3,500 in length (no longer). Stories must not just be strictly sex-filled but must actually have a storyline and character development. The deadline for submissions is March 1, 2011. Please allow 4-5 months for a response to your submissions as the submissions process will be very competitive.
Contributors will be paid a one-time fee of $300 and receive 5 complimentary copies of the finished book. Emailed submissions will not be accepted. All submissions must be double-spaced with 1" margins and in 12-pt. Times New Roman font or will not be considered. Poorly edited submissions will automatically be rejected. This is a great opportunity for those seeking exposure for their writing. Succulent: Chocolate Flava 2 spent six weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List; something unheard of for an anthology in any genre.
Please send your submissions to: Strebor Books/Simon and Schuster, ATTN: Chocolate Flava 2, PO Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
Zane is seeking submissions for Chocolate Flava 3: The Eroticanoir.com Anthology to be published by ATRIA/Simon and Schuster. Stories must prominently feature African-Americans in one or more of the key roles. Stories should be between 2,500-3,500 in length (no longer). Stories must not just be strictly sex-filled but must actually have a storyline and character development. The deadline for submissions is March 1, 2011. Please allow 4-5 months for a response to your submissions as the submissions process will be very competitive.
Contributors will be paid a one-time fee of $300 and receive 5 complimentary copies of the finished book. Emailed submissions will not be accepted. All submissions must be double-spaced with 1" margins and in 12-pt. Times New Roman font or will not be considered. Poorly edited submissions will automatically be rejected. This is a great opportunity for those seeking exposure for their writing. Succulent: Chocolate Flava 2 spent six weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List; something unheard of for an anthology in any genre.
Please send your submissions to: Strebor Books/Simon and Schuster, ATTN: Chocolate Flava 2, PO Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Excerpt from The Hot Box by Zane
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
EXCERPT-PAGE 115 of The Hot Box by Zane
Lydia
I seriously had a problem. Sunday morning, the day after Jacour’s party, I got up at seven and told Glenn that I was going to the eight o’clock church service. In all actuality, I was mad as hell that Glenn hadn’t come home until after three. The dance had ended at midnight and he’d claimed that he was going to help console Jacour’s devastated heart after Milena showed up with Randolph. While I was extremely confident that Glenn was wrapped around my pinkie finger, I didn’t want him staying out that late. Now that Jacour was back, unless Milena got back with him, Glenn would be gone all the time and I wasn’t having it. Worse yet, Phil would likely be right along with them. Not only would my man be missing in action, but my dick action, too? No fucking way!
I couldn’t wait to get the rest of the dirt from Milena about this Yosef dude, but first, I had something else to attend to. While I was sitting on the toilet taking my morning dump, I sent Phil a text message. Yes, women take morning dumps, too. Any woman who denies it will also claim her shit doesn’t stink. Memo: there is no such thing as sweet‐smelling shit; real talk.
me: meet me at baker’s creek.
phil: right now?
me: yes, right now.
phil: why? what’s up?
me: you know why.
phil: no, tell me.
me: get your ass over there. 30 minutes.
phil: i’m still sleep.
me: 30 minutes. don’t be late.
phil: i’m going back to sleep. holla later.
As much shit as Phil talked, he would show up. He wasn’t going to turn down pussy; not my pussy. I started to put something raunchy in the text message but wasn’t about to be a fool. Text messages had gotten more people busted than used condoms in the wastebasket. Former Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick had more than 14,000 of those bad boys leaked all over the internet after the powers that be decided to do his ass in. I wasn’t a politician, but I still had shit to worry about. Glenn was covering the bills that I couldn’t afford from my part‐time job at Food Lion and I needed him to keep paying them. One day, I was going to get the hell out of that dismal town, but until then, I needed him to stay put. If he found out that I was fucking Phil, and had been fucking Phil even before I started fucking him, my life as I knew it would be history.
Now you would think that the possibility of not being able to pay bills would’ve been sufficient enough to encourage me to stop fucking Phil. But, like I said, I seriously had a problem, and it was entirely related to the need for dick.
•••
Less than twenty‐five minutes later, I was sitting in the parking lot at Baker’s Creek Park. That’s the beauty of small‐town life. You could shower, get dressed—oh yeah, take a morning shit—and still be anyplace in town within a half hour.
There wasn’t a soul out there that time of morning. It wasn’t like Central Park or South Beach or the Santa Monica Pier or the other places they showed in movies. People weren’t riding bikes, jogging in expensive spandex, or rollerblading at Baker’s Creek. The only things getting exercise around there were the squirrels, possums, and raccoons. And shortly, my pussy was going to get a workout.
My clit started throbbing at the thought of it. I tried to decide what I was going to demand that Phil do to me first: suckle on my tits, eat my pussy, or lick my ass. Yes, my ass. I showered after my morning shit. Did you?
That was one thing I never played with; proper hygiene. I remember when Donita was dating Timmy, her now husband. Milena had forced me to have dinner with the chicken at the Golden Corral. You know it’s a small town when the hottest meal ticket is the Golden Fucking Corral. Anyway, we were chowing down on the selections when Donita said something that almost made me barf up my salisbury steak and gravy.
“Timmy keeps leaving beads on my sheets,” Donita said.
“Beads! What kind of beads?” Milena asked.
“Poop beads.” Donita looked terribly uncomfortable as the words left her lips. “Should I say something?”
I placed my fork down on my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. “Please tell me that you’re not talking about what I think you’re talking about. Not while I’m trying to eat.”
Milena giggled. “It’s okay, Lydia. At least she’s not getting graphic.”
That’s when Donita went and did it. She got graphic. “Every time we get finished fucking, there are these little pieces of shit all over my sheets. As soon as he leaves, I have to strip the bed and throw everything in the washer.”
“Not graphic, huh?” I glared at Milena. “Little pieces of shit all over her sheets?” I turned my attention to Donita. “Donita, let me help you out here. Yes, the hell you need to tell that Negro to stop shitting in your bed.”
“I don’t think he’s actually shitting in the bed. I’m saying, the beads are already there from when he did take a shit, and they end up on my sheets.”
“In other words, Timmy’s not wiping his ass when he takes a dump,” Milena added. “A lot of men don’t wipe properly.”
“And how would you know that, Miss Never Fucked Another Man In My Life Besides Jacour? Did Jacour wipe his ass?”
“Of course he did,” Milena replied.
“And all of my men have always wiped their asses,” I said. “Furthermore, no funk occupies my space. I take a shower before I go to bed, and I’ll be damned if any man that I’m fucking around with is lying with me with a musty dick.”
There was an older couple sitting in the booth behind us. The man cleared his throat. I tried to see if I recognized them, but I didn’t. While the blacks and whites in Kannapolis dealt with each other in some respects, the area was still very segregated as far as living space and communicating with one another. There was a ton of jungle fever going on though. My mother used to always say that future generations of black boys were going to be lost between the thighs of white women. I believed in to each his or her own, and I wasn’t down with the swirl.
I didn’t know the couple, but they needed to mind their business. If they didn’t want to hear real talk, stay the fuck out of the real world.
I cleared my throat back, loudly, and then stared at Donita. “You nasty, Donita. Real, real nasty. The first time that man left a single bead in my bed, not that I ever would’ve allowed it, his ass would’ve been told. For you to even have to ask us if you should say something proves that you’re hard the fuck up.”
“Ease up, Lydia,” Milena said, taking a sip of her lemonade. I couldn’t see how she could still drink, much less eat, after Donita’s “shit talk.” “You shouldn’t make fun of her. Obviously, this is really bothering her or she wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Well, she shouldn’t have mentioned it when we weren’t eating.”
Donita seemed like she was on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry. You’re right, Lydia. This was the wrong time to bring it up. It’s just that I care about Timmy, a lot, and I don’t want to say anything that might upset him or make him stop dating me.”
Milena was about to say something, but I held my index finger up to hush her.
“Let me get this one,” I said. Milena gave me a warning look. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be nice about it.” I looked at Donita, who was wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I can tell this is a serious matter.”
I sat up straighter in the booth and noticed the man in the next one cropping his neck to try to listen. Now the old dirty bastard was all into it. He’d probably left his share of shit beads in the bed over the years his damn self.
“Donita, if you can’t talk to Timmy without feeling like you have to walk on eggshells, then it’s not a true relationship. When you’re with someone intimately, you should be able to talk to them about anything. Ask the man—no, tell him—that he needs to bathe before you have sex. In fact, make it a sensual time. Suggest that you bathe together before you get it in. That way you can make sure that he’s nice and clean all over: his ass, his dick, his balls. He’d probably get a kick out of being able to lather up your pussy and dig out the coochie with a washcloth. Hell, it might even lead to some freaky shit in the shower.”
“Freaky shit like what?” Milena asked.
“One time,” I whispered, sick of the man in the next booth being nosy, “I sucked Ph . . . a dude’s dick in the shower with a bar of soap in my mouth.”
Damn, I had almost fucked up and mentioned Phil. Even though Glenn and I were not together way back then when Donita was dating Timmy, I still didn’t want anyone to know that I was fucking Phil.
“Damn, you do things like that?” Milena asked.
“That’s hot!” Donita seemed excited and perked up. “I need to try that. Thanks, Lydia.”
I glanced at Milena. “Yes, I do things like that. I never play when it comes to sex. If I’m going to fuck a man, I’m going to give him the fuck of his life. If I can’t win a game, I don’t want to play; real talk.”
“You and all of your real talk is going to make you write a check one day that your ass can’t cash,” Milena said.
Sitting there at Baker’s Creek, waiting for Phil to show up with his dick in tow, made me recall those words. I had certainly written the check. Hopefully, I’d never have to cash the damn thing.
Phil came speeding into the parking lot in his pimped‐out metallic blue Ford Fusion with the vanity plate that read URideMe. Nasty ass!
He pulled up beside my white Honda Civic and rolled his window down. I did the same.
“You’re late,” I told him.
“No, I’m not. You said thirty minutes.”
I glanced at the time on my dash. “And it’s been thirty‐two minutes.”
“Whatever, Lydia. I couldn’t be considered late anyway since I told you that I wasn’t coming in the first place.”
“Well, then, why are you here?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Shit, I’m not turning down your pussy.”
I blushed as he rolled up his window, cut his engine, and got out. He climbed into my car.
“You want this dick in here or you want to fuck out in the woods with the animals?”
“Ooh, that’s what I like about you.”
He reached between my legs. I was dressed for church, where I would eventually end up late for the service, in order to cover my ass, but I hadn’t bothered to put on panties. Phil started fingering my wet pussy and I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
“You’ve got that premium shit, Lydia. Men would go to war over this pussy. You know that?” He kept fingering me, setting my pussy on fire. “Sometimes, while I’m at work in that factory, all I can think about is your pussy. How lovely it smells. How wet and creamy it is. How good it tastes. How it drives me crazy when I’m deep inside of you.”
“Damn, Phil, I love it when you do that sexy talk.” I squirmed in the seat, gyrating my pussy on his fingers and holding onto his wrist, guiding the motion. “You’re going to make me come already.”
“No . . .” He tried to pull his fingers out but I continued to grasp his wrist and locked my thighs around his hand. “I don’t want you to come all over that beautiful dress or your car seat. Neither one of them will appreciate your juices as much as me. Let me lick that cat real good for you.”
“I don’t want to do it in the car.” I changed course and pulled Phil’s fingers out of me. “Let’s go out in the woods like you said. I feel like doing something really freaky this morning.”
“You’ve always been my little freak.” Phil smiled as I sucked my own juice off of his fingers. “That shit with Glenn makes no damn sense. He’ll never fuck you like me; that’s why you won’t stop.”
“You won’t stop either,” I reminded him. “I’ve never forced myself on you.”
“And as long as there is a breath in my body, you won’t have to.” Phil licked his fingers one by one to see if I’d left any juice for him. “No one turns me on more than you do, Lydia. We need to come out with it and tell Glenn the truth.”
I slapped Phil across his face, damn near drawing blood. “Don’t ever make that suggestion again, Phil. It’s not going down like that.”
Now the typical man would’ve either slapped my ass back, followed by a serious beatdown, or gotten out of my car and rolled out. Phil sat there, staring at me intently for a moment.
“I’m sorry that I hit you,” I said. “I’m really hormonal right now; that’s not an excuse though. But you know how I get when my period’s about to start.”
“Yeah, it is about that time. Couple more days or so.”
See, that’s the type of shit that Glenn should’ve been on top of, being that we lived together. Phil was more up on my bleeding calendar than my own man. Then again, he’d been digging my back out much longer.
“I bet you are horny, huh? You women start acting all crazy and shit when your Aunt Flo is headed to town.”
“Yeah, we do.” I grabbed Phil’s chin, slipped my thick tongue into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip gently. “But you don’t need to busy yourself worrying about any other woman. I take good care of you, don’t I?”
“Sure you do.” Phil sighed. “But sometimes I wish things were different. What are we really doing here . . . with each other? We fuck damn near every day. I’ve been seeing you longer than Glenn. Yet you want to keep it a secret . . . like you’re ashamed of me or something.”
“It’s not like that, and you know it.” It was exactly like that but I had to lie. “You’ve got a roommate. What do you expect from me? For me to move up in your crib with you and Briscoe? Don’t forget that Glenn has brought me over there before. Briscoe can’t even spell housekeeping, much less do any.”
Phil looked extremely upset. I had to do something quick or he might’ve withheld the dick.
I started rubbing him through his jeans. He was already so hard, he could’ve split bricks. “Come on, Phil. Let’s not start tripping. It’s Sunday morning . . .” I looked around the park. “We’re out here all alone. Last night, you looked so damn good at the party. All I could think about was sucking on your big dick.”
That perked his ass up. “Really?”
“Ooh, yeah.” I unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. “Look at that. It’s a thing of beauty. I was so horny for you last night that I went in the bathroom and played in my pussy until I came.”
“Word?”
“Word.” I ran the tip of my thumb back and forth across the head of his dick. “I was yearning for you, baby. I imagined your fingers all over my body, caressing my tits, my ass. I wanted you to split my pussy wide open with this piece of wood right here.”
I was lying my ass off. There was no way that I would’ve masturbated at the Elks lodge, especially not in that same stall that Ms. Bart was pissing and shitting in half the night.
“You still want to go out in the woods?” Phil asked, grinning.
“Uh‐huh, I want you to fuck me rough . . . hard . . . punish me with your dick.”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t even be able to walk straight.”
I giggled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I reached down on the side of my seat and popped the trunk. “I’ve got a blanket in the trunk. Go get it so we can get it in.”
Phil chuckled and got out of the car. I cut the engine and was about to get out when my phone rang. It was Glenn. I sent him a text message, letting him know that church had started and I would be home right after. Glenn never went to church, unless it was for a funeral or a wedding, so there was no chance of him showing up and seeing that I wasn’t there. However, it was a small town, and I was running the chance that he might bring it up to someone in casual conversation. People in Kannapolis took great joy in busting someone’s bubble. I couldn’t blame them. Boredom could make people do all kinds of trifling shit, like what I was about to do with Phil.
All I can say is there was much to be said for fucking out in the bush. It had its pros and cons, but the idea of doing it someplace different did it for me. I could’ve done without the insects, both those on the ground and the ones flying by. I definitely could’ve done without the animals rustling through the woods and making it seem like a scene out of Friday the 13th when Jason would sneak up on a naked couple so busy getting their groove on that they didn’t notice him about to whack one of their heads off. But what I did like was the breeze teasing my nipples and the hardness of the ground underneath the blanket as Phil plummeted his dick in and out of my pussy. There had been a terrible storm the night before and the ground was still fairly damp, another reason why the park was so deserted.
When we first got out there, I told him to put the blanket down. I lowered to my knees and gave him a serious dick‐sucking. TOOT MOTHERFUCKING TOOT! I had him screaming out like a maniac by the time he came all down in my throat.
“Take your dress off,” Phil said, dropping to the ground in front of me and groping at my clothes. “I want to see every inch of you.”
As soon as it was visible, he grabbed my left tit and started milking it for dear life. “Umm, that’s it. I love breastfeeding you, baby.”
“I want you so bad, Lydia.”
I slipped the rest of my dress off but kept my heels on. “Then take me. Take me right here like a beast. Show me what a powerful fuck feels like. Drill a hole in my snatch.”
I turned around and got down on all fours.
“Oh, you want it from the back, huh?” Phil asked.
“Damn straight. Take all this pussy.”
Phil grabbed onto the sides of my ass and crouched down with his thighs on both sides of me, his knees still elevated and brushing against my sides. Then he laid it on me. I felt the tip of his dick enter me, and within seconds, he was all the way in. He fucked me with reckless abandon. That shit was off the chain and lasted for a good twenty minutes.
I came all over his dick and collapsed to the ground.
“You need to be careful what you ask for.” Phil panted and tried to catch his breath. He lay beside me on the blanket. “I don’t play when it comes to working pussy over.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” I turned over onto my back and then threw my leg over his and started playing with the small hairs on his chest. I kissed the underside of his armpit gently, then laid my head on him. “You’re the truth; real talk.”
Phil was quiet for a moment, and I sensed something was wrong.
I looked up into his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I was wondering, if I’m the truth, why are we out here fucking in the woods instead of setting up house together?”
I rolled my eyes to the sky. “Didn’t we have this conversation back in the car?”
“No, not really. You spoke and I listened.” He pushed me off of him and sat up on his elbows. “Now you’re going to listen to me.”
“Phil, can’t you tell when you’re beating a dead horse? I’m not going to change my mind. You and I function well . . . as fuck buddies. A relationship? That would never work.”
“You don’t know that. How can you even make an assumption like that? We’ve never tried to do the real thing. You were with me first, and instead of trying to make something serious work with me, you went out and made a commitment to my friend. My best fucking friend. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
I took a long breath and counted to ten in silence.
“Do you hear me, Lydia? This is really bothering me, and you don’t seem to get it.” I started to get up. Phil pulled me back down. “I’m sick of you running away from me. We’re going to talk about this. You send me a text message early in the morning, expecting me to whip my dick out on demand, like some good little doggie.”
You are a good little doggie!
“You leave Glenn at home, playing him for a fool, and then come out here and fuck me in the woods. This can’t be the kind of life you want to lead. This shit is wrong.”
“If it’s so fucking wrong, then why are you here, Phil? Huh? Why the fuck are you here?”
Phil sighed and threw his hands over his face. “Because I love you, Lydia. A man doesn’t have sex with a woman for over a decade without developing feelings. A few weeks, a few months, we probably don’t give a damn, but this long? It doesn’t go down that way.”
I could’ve tried to reason with Phil about that. I could’ve tried to convince him that what he thought he was feeling was simply embedded in the power of my vajayjay. But I couldn’t; he was in love with me and part of me had always realized that. It felt good to have him love me. It felt good to always have him near whenever I needed someone to talk to, someone to make me feel wanted . . . and needed.
I decided to put a different spin on it and play on his friendship with Glenn. “Glenn doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good man.”
Phil took his hands off his face and stared at me. “I know that he’s a good man . . . and he’s an even better friend. And no, he doesn’t deserve this, but neither do I.”
“No, you don’t. I dig that. But you’re already hurting. What sense would it make to hurt him also?” I shrugged. “If we officially become a couple, we’d never live that shit down in this town. Everyone in Kannapolis would hate us.”
I thought I had him . . . for a second.
“People cheat in Kannapolis all the time. Hell, having sex is about the only thing to do around here to kill time; either that or getting high or drunk.”
“I could sure use a joint right about now,” I said, mad at myself for not rolling at least one joint before I left the house.
“Who you telling? Me too, and some Jack Daniel’s. You always have that primo shit. I can’t believe you won’t share your hookup with me.”
Now I could get with some weed in the morning to smooth out my thoughts, but the fact that Phil wanted to hit the bottle was a bit much; yet not a surprise. That was typical Phil.
“I don’t tell anybody where I get my weed, Phil. That’s between my supplier and me.”
“What? You his only customer or something? What kind of drug dealer only has one customer?”
“I’m not saying all that,” I replied, thinking that I wasn’t dealing shit, simply growing my own stash. “I’ll ask him if I can bring you around, but I’m not giving you his number, or taking you past his crib without permission. Dealers don’t be playing that, and he’s a huge, brawny motherfucker with an arsenal sitting close by.”
“Shit, is it safe for you to roll through there?”
“Yes, it’s all copacetic between us. Plus, I’ve become a chat buddy of his chick.”
“That’s cool. That’s cool.”
I was a bit upset that Phil had gone from professing his love for me in one breath to worrying about where I bought my ciggaweed the next. How significant could I really have been?
“I need to get to church,” I said, getting up and starting to get dressed.
“You’re a trip. Fucking me out in the woods and then going to church.”
“Hey, I’m not the only sinner that’ll be packing the pews this morning. Except I’ve never professed to be a saint. There are plenty of sluts up in church every Sunday.”
“You’re not a slut, Lydia. You’re special.” Phil got up and pulled his pants up.
“Yes, I am special. One of these days I’m going to get out of this town. Maybe go to Hollywood and become a movie star.” I twirled in my dress and heels. “You think I’m pretty enough to be a movie star? Or a model?”
“I think you’re pretty enough to be whatever you want to be. Look how wide open you’ve got my nose. I’m not an easy man to catch, but you’ve got me; hook, line, and sinker.”
“Are you seriously telling me that you don’t fuck around with any other women?”
“I have in the past. I won’t lie. But lately, it hasn’t felt right . . . being with someone else. They don’t do anything for me, so there’s no point in bothering with it. If I know I can get a broad, that’s the thrilling part. These women around here are easy. No challenge. No challenge at all.”
Phil started folding up the blanket as I stared at his ass through his jeans.
“Is that what it is with me? Am I a challenge, Phil?”
“That you are.” He must’ve realized what I was thinking. “But that’s not why I want you. I love you; always have.”
“I bet that if I was ever foolish enough to leave Glenn for you, we’d be all lovey dovey for a few months and then you’d leave me for the next piece of ass.”
Phil finished folding up the blanket, lodged it under his right arm, and wrapped his left arm around my waist. He gazed into my eyes. “Never. I would never leave you. In fact, I’m never going to leave you now. I’ll always be with you, for as long as you want to be with me.”
Phil sounded so sincere; it frightened me.
I pulled away from his embrace. “We need to get out of here.” I lifted one of my heels. “Look at all of this mud on my shoes.”
“Yeah, that rain last night was no joke.” I laughed. “That wasn’t rain. That was a kick‐ass storm. For a minute it looked like the lightning was coming in through the front door, doing the electric slide across the carpet, and break-dancing out the back door.”
“Yeah, that storm was deep. Must’ve been because it was so hot yesterday.”
“Well, it was hot out here in these woods today.” I kissed Phil gently on the lips. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Thanks for letting me dick feed you for breakfast.”
“You’re so nasty . . . but I like it.”
Phil and I walked back toward our cars, hand in hand. It was too late for me to make the eight o’clock church service, even entering late. I decided to take my chances, kill about thirty minutes at the local Target, head on home, and pretend like I’d been there all along. I planned to take a shower, get my Sunday dinner started, and then head over to Milena’s to get the 4‐1‐1 on Yosef.
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
EXCERPT-PAGE 115 of The Hot Box by Zane
Lydia
I seriously had a problem. Sunday morning, the day after Jacour’s party, I got up at seven and told Glenn that I was going to the eight o’clock church service. In all actuality, I was mad as hell that Glenn hadn’t come home until after three. The dance had ended at midnight and he’d claimed that he was going to help console Jacour’s devastated heart after Milena showed up with Randolph. While I was extremely confident that Glenn was wrapped around my pinkie finger, I didn’t want him staying out that late. Now that Jacour was back, unless Milena got back with him, Glenn would be gone all the time and I wasn’t having it. Worse yet, Phil would likely be right along with them. Not only would my man be missing in action, but my dick action, too? No fucking way!
I couldn’t wait to get the rest of the dirt from Milena about this Yosef dude, but first, I had something else to attend to. While I was sitting on the toilet taking my morning dump, I sent Phil a text message. Yes, women take morning dumps, too. Any woman who denies it will also claim her shit doesn’t stink. Memo: there is no such thing as sweet‐smelling shit; real talk.
me: meet me at baker’s creek.
phil: right now?
me: yes, right now.
phil: why? what’s up?
me: you know why.
phil: no, tell me.
me: get your ass over there. 30 minutes.
phil: i’m still sleep.
me: 30 minutes. don’t be late.
phil: i’m going back to sleep. holla later.
As much shit as Phil talked, he would show up. He wasn’t going to turn down pussy; not my pussy. I started to put something raunchy in the text message but wasn’t about to be a fool. Text messages had gotten more people busted than used condoms in the wastebasket. Former Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick had more than 14,000 of those bad boys leaked all over the internet after the powers that be decided to do his ass in. I wasn’t a politician, but I still had shit to worry about. Glenn was covering the bills that I couldn’t afford from my part‐time job at Food Lion and I needed him to keep paying them. One day, I was going to get the hell out of that dismal town, but until then, I needed him to stay put. If he found out that I was fucking Phil, and had been fucking Phil even before I started fucking him, my life as I knew it would be history.
Now you would think that the possibility of not being able to pay bills would’ve been sufficient enough to encourage me to stop fucking Phil. But, like I said, I seriously had a problem, and it was entirely related to the need for dick.
•••
Less than twenty‐five minutes later, I was sitting in the parking lot at Baker’s Creek Park. That’s the beauty of small‐town life. You could shower, get dressed—oh yeah, take a morning shit—and still be anyplace in town within a half hour.
There wasn’t a soul out there that time of morning. It wasn’t like Central Park or South Beach or the Santa Monica Pier or the other places they showed in movies. People weren’t riding bikes, jogging in expensive spandex, or rollerblading at Baker’s Creek. The only things getting exercise around there were the squirrels, possums, and raccoons. And shortly, my pussy was going to get a workout.
My clit started throbbing at the thought of it. I tried to decide what I was going to demand that Phil do to me first: suckle on my tits, eat my pussy, or lick my ass. Yes, my ass. I showered after my morning shit. Did you?
That was one thing I never played with; proper hygiene. I remember when Donita was dating Timmy, her now husband. Milena had forced me to have dinner with the chicken at the Golden Corral. You know it’s a small town when the hottest meal ticket is the Golden Fucking Corral. Anyway, we were chowing down on the selections when Donita said something that almost made me barf up my salisbury steak and gravy.
“Timmy keeps leaving beads on my sheets,” Donita said.
“Beads! What kind of beads?” Milena asked.
“Poop beads.” Donita looked terribly uncomfortable as the words left her lips. “Should I say something?”
I placed my fork down on my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. “Please tell me that you’re not talking about what I think you’re talking about. Not while I’m trying to eat.”
Milena giggled. “It’s okay, Lydia. At least she’s not getting graphic.”
That’s when Donita went and did it. She got graphic. “Every time we get finished fucking, there are these little pieces of shit all over my sheets. As soon as he leaves, I have to strip the bed and throw everything in the washer.”
“Not graphic, huh?” I glared at Milena. “Little pieces of shit all over her sheets?” I turned my attention to Donita. “Donita, let me help you out here. Yes, the hell you need to tell that Negro to stop shitting in your bed.”
“I don’t think he’s actually shitting in the bed. I’m saying, the beads are already there from when he did take a shit, and they end up on my sheets.”
“In other words, Timmy’s not wiping his ass when he takes a dump,” Milena added. “A lot of men don’t wipe properly.”
“And how would you know that, Miss Never Fucked Another Man In My Life Besides Jacour? Did Jacour wipe his ass?”
“Of course he did,” Milena replied.
“And all of my men have always wiped their asses,” I said. “Furthermore, no funk occupies my space. I take a shower before I go to bed, and I’ll be damned if any man that I’m fucking around with is lying with me with a musty dick.”
There was an older couple sitting in the booth behind us. The man cleared his throat. I tried to see if I recognized them, but I didn’t. While the blacks and whites in Kannapolis dealt with each other in some respects, the area was still very segregated as far as living space and communicating with one another. There was a ton of jungle fever going on though. My mother used to always say that future generations of black boys were going to be lost between the thighs of white women. I believed in to each his or her own, and I wasn’t down with the swirl.
I didn’t know the couple, but they needed to mind their business. If they didn’t want to hear real talk, stay the fuck out of the real world.
I cleared my throat back, loudly, and then stared at Donita. “You nasty, Donita. Real, real nasty. The first time that man left a single bead in my bed, not that I ever would’ve allowed it, his ass would’ve been told. For you to even have to ask us if you should say something proves that you’re hard the fuck up.”
“Ease up, Lydia,” Milena said, taking a sip of her lemonade. I couldn’t see how she could still drink, much less eat, after Donita’s “shit talk.” “You shouldn’t make fun of her. Obviously, this is really bothering her or she wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Well, she shouldn’t have mentioned it when we weren’t eating.”
Donita seemed like she was on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry. You’re right, Lydia. This was the wrong time to bring it up. It’s just that I care about Timmy, a lot, and I don’t want to say anything that might upset him or make him stop dating me.”
Milena was about to say something, but I held my index finger up to hush her.
“Let me get this one,” I said. Milena gave me a warning look. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be nice about it.” I looked at Donita, who was wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I can tell this is a serious matter.”
I sat up straighter in the booth and noticed the man in the next one cropping his neck to try to listen. Now the old dirty bastard was all into it. He’d probably left his share of shit beads in the bed over the years his damn self.
“Donita, if you can’t talk to Timmy without feeling like you have to walk on eggshells, then it’s not a true relationship. When you’re with someone intimately, you should be able to talk to them about anything. Ask the man—no, tell him—that he needs to bathe before you have sex. In fact, make it a sensual time. Suggest that you bathe together before you get it in. That way you can make sure that he’s nice and clean all over: his ass, his dick, his balls. He’d probably get a kick out of being able to lather up your pussy and dig out the coochie with a washcloth. Hell, it might even lead to some freaky shit in the shower.”
“Freaky shit like what?” Milena asked.
“One time,” I whispered, sick of the man in the next booth being nosy, “I sucked Ph . . . a dude’s dick in the shower with a bar of soap in my mouth.”
Damn, I had almost fucked up and mentioned Phil. Even though Glenn and I were not together way back then when Donita was dating Timmy, I still didn’t want anyone to know that I was fucking Phil.
“Damn, you do things like that?” Milena asked.
“That’s hot!” Donita seemed excited and perked up. “I need to try that. Thanks, Lydia.”
I glanced at Milena. “Yes, I do things like that. I never play when it comes to sex. If I’m going to fuck a man, I’m going to give him the fuck of his life. If I can’t win a game, I don’t want to play; real talk.”
“You and all of your real talk is going to make you write a check one day that your ass can’t cash,” Milena said.
Sitting there at Baker’s Creek, waiting for Phil to show up with his dick in tow, made me recall those words. I had certainly written the check. Hopefully, I’d never have to cash the damn thing.
Phil came speeding into the parking lot in his pimped‐out metallic blue Ford Fusion with the vanity plate that read URideMe. Nasty ass!
He pulled up beside my white Honda Civic and rolled his window down. I did the same.
“You’re late,” I told him.
“No, I’m not. You said thirty minutes.”
I glanced at the time on my dash. “And it’s been thirty‐two minutes.”
“Whatever, Lydia. I couldn’t be considered late anyway since I told you that I wasn’t coming in the first place.”
“Well, then, why are you here?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Shit, I’m not turning down your pussy.”
I blushed as he rolled up his window, cut his engine, and got out. He climbed into my car.
“You want this dick in here or you want to fuck out in the woods with the animals?”
“Ooh, that’s what I like about you.”
He reached between my legs. I was dressed for church, where I would eventually end up late for the service, in order to cover my ass, but I hadn’t bothered to put on panties. Phil started fingering my wet pussy and I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
“You’ve got that premium shit, Lydia. Men would go to war over this pussy. You know that?” He kept fingering me, setting my pussy on fire. “Sometimes, while I’m at work in that factory, all I can think about is your pussy. How lovely it smells. How wet and creamy it is. How good it tastes. How it drives me crazy when I’m deep inside of you.”
“Damn, Phil, I love it when you do that sexy talk.” I squirmed in the seat, gyrating my pussy on his fingers and holding onto his wrist, guiding the motion. “You’re going to make me come already.”
“No . . .” He tried to pull his fingers out but I continued to grasp his wrist and locked my thighs around his hand. “I don’t want you to come all over that beautiful dress or your car seat. Neither one of them will appreciate your juices as much as me. Let me lick that cat real good for you.”
“I don’t want to do it in the car.” I changed course and pulled Phil’s fingers out of me. “Let’s go out in the woods like you said. I feel like doing something really freaky this morning.”
“You’ve always been my little freak.” Phil smiled as I sucked my own juice off of his fingers. “That shit with Glenn makes no damn sense. He’ll never fuck you like me; that’s why you won’t stop.”
“You won’t stop either,” I reminded him. “I’ve never forced myself on you.”
“And as long as there is a breath in my body, you won’t have to.” Phil licked his fingers one by one to see if I’d left any juice for him. “No one turns me on more than you do, Lydia. We need to come out with it and tell Glenn the truth.”
I slapped Phil across his face, damn near drawing blood. “Don’t ever make that suggestion again, Phil. It’s not going down like that.”
Now the typical man would’ve either slapped my ass back, followed by a serious beatdown, or gotten out of my car and rolled out. Phil sat there, staring at me intently for a moment.
“I’m sorry that I hit you,” I said. “I’m really hormonal right now; that’s not an excuse though. But you know how I get when my period’s about to start.”
“Yeah, it is about that time. Couple more days or so.”
See, that’s the type of shit that Glenn should’ve been on top of, being that we lived together. Phil was more up on my bleeding calendar than my own man. Then again, he’d been digging my back out much longer.
“I bet you are horny, huh? You women start acting all crazy and shit when your Aunt Flo is headed to town.”
“Yeah, we do.” I grabbed Phil’s chin, slipped my thick tongue into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip gently. “But you don’t need to busy yourself worrying about any other woman. I take good care of you, don’t I?”
“Sure you do.” Phil sighed. “But sometimes I wish things were different. What are we really doing here . . . with each other? We fuck damn near every day. I’ve been seeing you longer than Glenn. Yet you want to keep it a secret . . . like you’re ashamed of me or something.”
“It’s not like that, and you know it.” It was exactly like that but I had to lie. “You’ve got a roommate. What do you expect from me? For me to move up in your crib with you and Briscoe? Don’t forget that Glenn has brought me over there before. Briscoe can’t even spell housekeeping, much less do any.”
Phil looked extremely upset. I had to do something quick or he might’ve withheld the dick.
I started rubbing him through his jeans. He was already so hard, he could’ve split bricks. “Come on, Phil. Let’s not start tripping. It’s Sunday morning . . .” I looked around the park. “We’re out here all alone. Last night, you looked so damn good at the party. All I could think about was sucking on your big dick.”
That perked his ass up. “Really?”
“Ooh, yeah.” I unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. “Look at that. It’s a thing of beauty. I was so horny for you last night that I went in the bathroom and played in my pussy until I came.”
“Word?”
“Word.” I ran the tip of my thumb back and forth across the head of his dick. “I was yearning for you, baby. I imagined your fingers all over my body, caressing my tits, my ass. I wanted you to split my pussy wide open with this piece of wood right here.”
I was lying my ass off. There was no way that I would’ve masturbated at the Elks lodge, especially not in that same stall that Ms. Bart was pissing and shitting in half the night.
“You still want to go out in the woods?” Phil asked, grinning.
“Uh‐huh, I want you to fuck me rough . . . hard . . . punish me with your dick.”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t even be able to walk straight.”
I giggled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I reached down on the side of my seat and popped the trunk. “I’ve got a blanket in the trunk. Go get it so we can get it in.”
Phil chuckled and got out of the car. I cut the engine and was about to get out when my phone rang. It was Glenn. I sent him a text message, letting him know that church had started and I would be home right after. Glenn never went to church, unless it was for a funeral or a wedding, so there was no chance of him showing up and seeing that I wasn’t there. However, it was a small town, and I was running the chance that he might bring it up to someone in casual conversation. People in Kannapolis took great joy in busting someone’s bubble. I couldn’t blame them. Boredom could make people do all kinds of trifling shit, like what I was about to do with Phil.
All I can say is there was much to be said for fucking out in the bush. It had its pros and cons, but the idea of doing it someplace different did it for me. I could’ve done without the insects, both those on the ground and the ones flying by. I definitely could’ve done without the animals rustling through the woods and making it seem like a scene out of Friday the 13th when Jason would sneak up on a naked couple so busy getting their groove on that they didn’t notice him about to whack one of their heads off. But what I did like was the breeze teasing my nipples and the hardness of the ground underneath the blanket as Phil plummeted his dick in and out of my pussy. There had been a terrible storm the night before and the ground was still fairly damp, another reason why the park was so deserted.
When we first got out there, I told him to put the blanket down. I lowered to my knees and gave him a serious dick‐sucking. TOOT MOTHERFUCKING TOOT! I had him screaming out like a maniac by the time he came all down in my throat.
“Take your dress off,” Phil said, dropping to the ground in front of me and groping at my clothes. “I want to see every inch of you.”
As soon as it was visible, he grabbed my left tit and started milking it for dear life. “Umm, that’s it. I love breastfeeding you, baby.”
“I want you so bad, Lydia.”
I slipped the rest of my dress off but kept my heels on. “Then take me. Take me right here like a beast. Show me what a powerful fuck feels like. Drill a hole in my snatch.”
I turned around and got down on all fours.
“Oh, you want it from the back, huh?” Phil asked.
“Damn straight. Take all this pussy.”
Phil grabbed onto the sides of my ass and crouched down with his thighs on both sides of me, his knees still elevated and brushing against my sides. Then he laid it on me. I felt the tip of his dick enter me, and within seconds, he was all the way in. He fucked me with reckless abandon. That shit was off the chain and lasted for a good twenty minutes.
I came all over his dick and collapsed to the ground.
“You need to be careful what you ask for.” Phil panted and tried to catch his breath. He lay beside me on the blanket. “I don’t play when it comes to working pussy over.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” I turned over onto my back and then threw my leg over his and started playing with the small hairs on his chest. I kissed the underside of his armpit gently, then laid my head on him. “You’re the truth; real talk.”
Phil was quiet for a moment, and I sensed something was wrong.
I looked up into his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I was wondering, if I’m the truth, why are we out here fucking in the woods instead of setting up house together?”
I rolled my eyes to the sky. “Didn’t we have this conversation back in the car?”
“No, not really. You spoke and I listened.” He pushed me off of him and sat up on his elbows. “Now you’re going to listen to me.”
“Phil, can’t you tell when you’re beating a dead horse? I’m not going to change my mind. You and I function well . . . as fuck buddies. A relationship? That would never work.”
“You don’t know that. How can you even make an assumption like that? We’ve never tried to do the real thing. You were with me first, and instead of trying to make something serious work with me, you went out and made a commitment to my friend. My best fucking friend. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
I took a long breath and counted to ten in silence.
“Do you hear me, Lydia? This is really bothering me, and you don’t seem to get it.” I started to get up. Phil pulled me back down. “I’m sick of you running away from me. We’re going to talk about this. You send me a text message early in the morning, expecting me to whip my dick out on demand, like some good little doggie.”
You are a good little doggie!
“You leave Glenn at home, playing him for a fool, and then come out here and fuck me in the woods. This can’t be the kind of life you want to lead. This shit is wrong.”
“If it’s so fucking wrong, then why are you here, Phil? Huh? Why the fuck are you here?”
Phil sighed and threw his hands over his face. “Because I love you, Lydia. A man doesn’t have sex with a woman for over a decade without developing feelings. A few weeks, a few months, we probably don’t give a damn, but this long? It doesn’t go down that way.”
I could’ve tried to reason with Phil about that. I could’ve tried to convince him that what he thought he was feeling was simply embedded in the power of my vajayjay. But I couldn’t; he was in love with me and part of me had always realized that. It felt good to have him love me. It felt good to always have him near whenever I needed someone to talk to, someone to make me feel wanted . . . and needed.
I decided to put a different spin on it and play on his friendship with Glenn. “Glenn doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good man.”
Phil took his hands off his face and stared at me. “I know that he’s a good man . . . and he’s an even better friend. And no, he doesn’t deserve this, but neither do I.”
“No, you don’t. I dig that. But you’re already hurting. What sense would it make to hurt him also?” I shrugged. “If we officially become a couple, we’d never live that shit down in this town. Everyone in Kannapolis would hate us.”
I thought I had him . . . for a second.
“People cheat in Kannapolis all the time. Hell, having sex is about the only thing to do around here to kill time; either that or getting high or drunk.”
“I could sure use a joint right about now,” I said, mad at myself for not rolling at least one joint before I left the house.
“Who you telling? Me too, and some Jack Daniel’s. You always have that primo shit. I can’t believe you won’t share your hookup with me.”
Now I could get with some weed in the morning to smooth out my thoughts, but the fact that Phil wanted to hit the bottle was a bit much; yet not a surprise. That was typical Phil.
“I don’t tell anybody where I get my weed, Phil. That’s between my supplier and me.”
“What? You his only customer or something? What kind of drug dealer only has one customer?”
“I’m not saying all that,” I replied, thinking that I wasn’t dealing shit, simply growing my own stash. “I’ll ask him if I can bring you around, but I’m not giving you his number, or taking you past his crib without permission. Dealers don’t be playing that, and he’s a huge, brawny motherfucker with an arsenal sitting close by.”
“Shit, is it safe for you to roll through there?”
“Yes, it’s all copacetic between us. Plus, I’ve become a chat buddy of his chick.”
“That’s cool. That’s cool.”
I was a bit upset that Phil had gone from professing his love for me in one breath to worrying about where I bought my ciggaweed the next. How significant could I really have been?
“I need to get to church,” I said, getting up and starting to get dressed.
“You’re a trip. Fucking me out in the woods and then going to church.”
“Hey, I’m not the only sinner that’ll be packing the pews this morning. Except I’ve never professed to be a saint. There are plenty of sluts up in church every Sunday.”
“You’re not a slut, Lydia. You’re special.” Phil got up and pulled his pants up.
“Yes, I am special. One of these days I’m going to get out of this town. Maybe go to Hollywood and become a movie star.” I twirled in my dress and heels. “You think I’m pretty enough to be a movie star? Or a model?”
“I think you’re pretty enough to be whatever you want to be. Look how wide open you’ve got my nose. I’m not an easy man to catch, but you’ve got me; hook, line, and sinker.”
“Are you seriously telling me that you don’t fuck around with any other women?”
“I have in the past. I won’t lie. But lately, it hasn’t felt right . . . being with someone else. They don’t do anything for me, so there’s no point in bothering with it. If I know I can get a broad, that’s the thrilling part. These women around here are easy. No challenge. No challenge at all.”
Phil started folding up the blanket as I stared at his ass through his jeans.
“Is that what it is with me? Am I a challenge, Phil?”
“That you are.” He must’ve realized what I was thinking. “But that’s not why I want you. I love you; always have.”
“I bet that if I was ever foolish enough to leave Glenn for you, we’d be all lovey dovey for a few months and then you’d leave me for the next piece of ass.”
Phil finished folding up the blanket, lodged it under his right arm, and wrapped his left arm around my waist. He gazed into my eyes. “Never. I would never leave you. In fact, I’m never going to leave you now. I’ll always be with you, for as long as you want to be with me.”
Phil sounded so sincere; it frightened me.
I pulled away from his embrace. “We need to get out of here.” I lifted one of my heels. “Look at all of this mud on my shoes.”
“Yeah, that rain last night was no joke.” I laughed. “That wasn’t rain. That was a kick‐ass storm. For a minute it looked like the lightning was coming in through the front door, doing the electric slide across the carpet, and break-dancing out the back door.”
“Yeah, that storm was deep. Must’ve been because it was so hot yesterday.”
“Well, it was hot out here in these woods today.” I kissed Phil gently on the lips. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Thanks for letting me dick feed you for breakfast.”
“You’re so nasty . . . but I like it.”
Phil and I walked back toward our cars, hand in hand. It was too late for me to make the eight o’clock church service, even entering late. I decided to take my chances, kill about thirty minutes at the local Target, head on home, and pretend like I’d been there all along. I planned to take a shower, get my Sunday dinner started, and then head over to Milena’s to get the 4‐1‐1 on Yosef.
Friday, June 4, 2010
A Momma's Boy or a Concerned Son and Great Catch?: An Advice Question
Dear Zane,
I have had problems with women for a long time. I wanted to quit dealing with them altogether and concentrate on work for the rest of my life, but then I found a good woman. The relationship started off nice and slow, but she wanted to speed things up. Everything started to fall apart since she rushed it. I haven’t cheated on her or anything like that.
The thing is that she wants me to spend the night with her, but she waits until the last minute to ask. Memorial Day Weekend was the worst. I was invited to her father’s to meet him for the first time. He was the coolest O.G. that I have ever met and the rest of the family was cool, too. As we left to go home, she said a lot of things since she had consumed three drinks.
I reside with my mother because she is sick. I try to make sure that she is okay and handle some of the bills. My so-called girlfriend called me a “Momma’s Boy” because I wouldn’t spend the night with her. I prefer to plan things ahead of time. We were only supposed to be going to her father’s house to eat and hang out with the family. I am not happy in this relationship. It has gotten so bad that I have completely lost my sex drive. Please help me out with any advice. I am thinking about leaving her and go back to working until I can’t work anymore.
Signed,
Not a Momma’s Boy
Dear Not a Momma’s Boy,
Let me start by saying that even if this current relationship ends, you cannot conclude that burying yourself in work is the only alternative. I understand that you have had a string of bad relationships but you have to keep that door of possibilities open. There is a lovely young lady out there that would accept you as you are and love you. The two of you have to simply have the same priorities in life and she has to be understanding.
It is a wonderful thing that you are so concerned about your mother. Some “selfish” women will see that as a negative but other “smarter” women will realize that if you are capable of sacrificing so much for your mother, that means that you would do the same for your wife. I would not give up on your current relationship so quickly. There was something that drew you to her in the first place; something that made you take a chance. That something is still there. What you have to do is have a serious discussion with her. Let her know that you considered her statements to be disrespectful and that, unless she plans to change her outlook, you no longer will be aroused by her. Either she is willing to change or she is not. If she goes to calling you names again, then she is probably too selfish or immature to appreciate you. Work ethics are a good thing but never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.
Blessings,
Zane
I have had problems with women for a long time. I wanted to quit dealing with them altogether and concentrate on work for the rest of my life, but then I found a good woman. The relationship started off nice and slow, but she wanted to speed things up. Everything started to fall apart since she rushed it. I haven’t cheated on her or anything like that.
The thing is that she wants me to spend the night with her, but she waits until the last minute to ask. Memorial Day Weekend was the worst. I was invited to her father’s to meet him for the first time. He was the coolest O.G. that I have ever met and the rest of the family was cool, too. As we left to go home, she said a lot of things since she had consumed three drinks.
I reside with my mother because she is sick. I try to make sure that she is okay and handle some of the bills. My so-called girlfriend called me a “Momma’s Boy” because I wouldn’t spend the night with her. I prefer to plan things ahead of time. We were only supposed to be going to her father’s house to eat and hang out with the family. I am not happy in this relationship. It has gotten so bad that I have completely lost my sex drive. Please help me out with any advice. I am thinking about leaving her and go back to working until I can’t work anymore.
Signed,
Not a Momma’s Boy
Dear Not a Momma’s Boy,
Let me start by saying that even if this current relationship ends, you cannot conclude that burying yourself in work is the only alternative. I understand that you have had a string of bad relationships but you have to keep that door of possibilities open. There is a lovely young lady out there that would accept you as you are and love you. The two of you have to simply have the same priorities in life and she has to be understanding.
It is a wonderful thing that you are so concerned about your mother. Some “selfish” women will see that as a negative but other “smarter” women will realize that if you are capable of sacrificing so much for your mother, that means that you would do the same for your wife. I would not give up on your current relationship so quickly. There was something that drew you to her in the first place; something that made you take a chance. That something is still there. What you have to do is have a serious discussion with her. Let her know that you considered her statements to be disrespectful and that, unless she plans to change her outlook, you no longer will be aroused by her. Either she is willing to change or she is not. If she goes to calling you names again, then she is probably too selfish or immature to appreciate you. Work ethics are a good thing but never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.
Blessings,
Zane
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Season Finale of Zane's Sex Chronicles TONIGHT!
Do not forget to tune into the SEASON FINALE of "ZANE'S SEX CHRONICLES" tonight on CINEMAX at 12:05 AM. We are going out with a bang as the lead-in movie is one of my all-time favorites, TRAINING DAY, with Denzel Washington and Ethan Hawke.
I want to thank everyone for supporting the series over the course of both seasons. If no one has told you that you are loved and appreciated today, I love and appreciate you.
My next book, THE HOT BOX, will be released on August 10th. Please read the synopsis below. You can preorder it on most web sites. Also, so that I can heat up your summer with more than words, I am proud to announce that ZANE'S BOUDOIR, my lingerie company will have a soft launch in July and a hard launch in conjunction with the release of my book. THE HOT BOX COLLECTION is the first line, where I plan to redefine sensuality and style one body at a time. More details to follow.
Also, if you are looking for a hot read for this weekend, you should check out any book by ALLISON HOBBS, the only woman on the planet freakier than me. Please visit www.stealingcandy.net for information about her upcoming title dealing with sex trafficking, something that has become much too prevalent in today's society. We have to protect our youth.
I cannot express how grateful I am for all of your support. If you have not joined Planet Zane, you are missing out. We have such a good time over there. You can find all of the super freaks at www.planetzane.org. Lastly, do not forget that I have a free dating web site, www.blackgentlemen.com, also know as www.singledivas.net. And you can find me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/18088876726.
Have a blessed weekend and please let me know your thoughts about the season finale.
Blessings,
Zane
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
I want to thank everyone for supporting the series over the course of both seasons. If no one has told you that you are loved and appreciated today, I love and appreciate you.
My next book, THE HOT BOX, will be released on August 10th. Please read the synopsis below. You can preorder it on most web sites. Also, so that I can heat up your summer with more than words, I am proud to announce that ZANE'S BOUDOIR, my lingerie company will have a soft launch in July and a hard launch in conjunction with the release of my book. THE HOT BOX COLLECTION is the first line, where I plan to redefine sensuality and style one body at a time. More details to follow.
Also, if you are looking for a hot read for this weekend, you should check out any book by ALLISON HOBBS, the only woman on the planet freakier than me. Please visit www.stealingcandy.net for information about her upcoming title dealing with sex trafficking, something that has become much too prevalent in today's society. We have to protect our youth.
I cannot express how grateful I am for all of your support. If you have not joined Planet Zane, you are missing out. We have such a good time over there. You can find all of the super freaks at www.planetzane.org. Lastly, do not forget that I have a free dating web site, www.blackgentlemen.com, also know as www.singledivas.net. And you can find me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/18088876726.
Have a blessed weekend and please let me know your thoughts about the season finale.
Blessings,
Zane
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
A Female Condom Hater: An Advice Question
Dear Zane,
Everyone has a freaky side but society makes it seems like it shouldn’t be that way. Your books make us open up. I have been having sex since the age of fifteen and I am now twenty. I can recall some of the times when the sex was good but my experiences have been more on the negative side. I have had sex raw a couple of times and it feels better than using a condom. The dude that I’m messing with will not have sex without a condom. The last time we had sex, I had to bring some lubricant. I can never stay wet when he has a condom on. Foreplay makes me soaking wet but as soon as he puts the condom on, I dry up quickly. Why is that? Another thing is that he has a big dick and the condom makes sex more difficult. I can’t even fuck him long enough for him to bust a nut in me. I have to give him a blowjob for him to come.
Signed,
A Condom Hater
Dear Condom Hater,
People never cease to amaze me. They insist on using condoms during intercourse but leave them out of the equation during oral sex. Diseases can run rampant more in the mouth than anywhere else. It is admirable that the young man you are dealing with insists on using condoms but he is not truly protecting himself if you are sucking his dick. As for the dryness, I would suggest using various types of condoms until you find the right one that has enough lubricant to do the job. It could be that you are so hell bent on having sex raw that you have a mental block that defiantly ignites as soon as you see a condom whipped out. If this dryness persists, consult your OB/GYN. But the first thing you need to do is discuss his purpose in using condoms. It is only because he does not want to get you pregnant or is it to prevent STDs? Again, if you are humming on the mic, you are not preventing a damn thing.
Blessings,
Zane
Everyone has a freaky side but society makes it seems like it shouldn’t be that way. Your books make us open up. I have been having sex since the age of fifteen and I am now twenty. I can recall some of the times when the sex was good but my experiences have been more on the negative side. I have had sex raw a couple of times and it feels better than using a condom. The dude that I’m messing with will not have sex without a condom. The last time we had sex, I had to bring some lubricant. I can never stay wet when he has a condom on. Foreplay makes me soaking wet but as soon as he puts the condom on, I dry up quickly. Why is that? Another thing is that he has a big dick and the condom makes sex more difficult. I can’t even fuck him long enough for him to bust a nut in me. I have to give him a blowjob for him to come.
Signed,
A Condom Hater
Dear Condom Hater,
People never cease to amaze me. They insist on using condoms during intercourse but leave them out of the equation during oral sex. Diseases can run rampant more in the mouth than anywhere else. It is admirable that the young man you are dealing with insists on using condoms but he is not truly protecting himself if you are sucking his dick. As for the dryness, I would suggest using various types of condoms until you find the right one that has enough lubricant to do the job. It could be that you are so hell bent on having sex raw that you have a mental block that defiantly ignites as soon as you see a condom whipped out. If this dryness persists, consult your OB/GYN. But the first thing you need to do is discuss his purpose in using condoms. It is only because he does not want to get you pregnant or is it to prevent STDs? Again, if you are humming on the mic, you are not preventing a damn thing.
Blessings,
Zane
Out of Control, Or Not?: An Advice Question
Dear Zane,
I have been friends with this man for three years; he is blowing my mind both mentally and sexually. For the past couple of months, I find myself dreaming about him all of the time. With the exception of having sex once two years ago, we have remained simply friends. I did not let myself get caught up because he is in the reserves and I can’t see him as much as I want. After we had sex that one time, he was distant and avoided my text messages and phone calls. We eventually started our friendship back up and left sex out of the equation. Whenever he is in town, we hang out. He comes by my place or I drop by his. He never wants to leave and we talks for hours. We sleep on the sofa and he never forces sex. He comforts me whenever I have a problem.
The no-sex, friendship thing has been turning me on. A couple of weeks ago, he came into town and over to my place. When I saw him, I wanted to fuck him so badly, and I did. It was so intense and afterwards I expected him to fall asleep but he didn’t. He asked where did that leave us. He is about to be on active duty full-time and he is not happy about that. I don’t want to stress him out even more but I do crave for a relationship. I thought that I had it all under control but I cannot just be his fuck buddy. He has all of the qualities that I desire in a man. We are both thirty-three. What advice do you have?
Signed,
Out of Control
Dear Out of Control,
I don’t really see a negative in this, with the exception of your insecurities. The man has remained your friend for several years without sexing you on the regular. In my world, that means that his feelings for you are quite sincere and you should appreciate that. People fear the unknown and I think that while the two of you are quite comfortable in your connection, and feelings for each other, you both fear what may or may not happen. The one thing that I do know for sure is that trials and tribulations in life are much easier to bear with someone to walk beside of you and hold your hand. Yes, he is going on active duty and yes, you crave a lot of attention, so while the conditions may not be ideal, that does not negate you being ideal for each other.
What you need to do now is have a deep, heartfelt conversation. He asked you where the recent lovemaking session leaves you. Only you can define your happiness and what you are willing or not willing to sacrifice in order to obtain it. He may not be there for you every day but there are some men who are around 24-7 and yet their women do not feel an ounce of love. Stop doubting him, and yourself, and appreciate and love that man.
Blessings,
Zane
I have been friends with this man for three years; he is blowing my mind both mentally and sexually. For the past couple of months, I find myself dreaming about him all of the time. With the exception of having sex once two years ago, we have remained simply friends. I did not let myself get caught up because he is in the reserves and I can’t see him as much as I want. After we had sex that one time, he was distant and avoided my text messages and phone calls. We eventually started our friendship back up and left sex out of the equation. Whenever he is in town, we hang out. He comes by my place or I drop by his. He never wants to leave and we talks for hours. We sleep on the sofa and he never forces sex. He comforts me whenever I have a problem.
The no-sex, friendship thing has been turning me on. A couple of weeks ago, he came into town and over to my place. When I saw him, I wanted to fuck him so badly, and I did. It was so intense and afterwards I expected him to fall asleep but he didn’t. He asked where did that leave us. He is about to be on active duty full-time and he is not happy about that. I don’t want to stress him out even more but I do crave for a relationship. I thought that I had it all under control but I cannot just be his fuck buddy. He has all of the qualities that I desire in a man. We are both thirty-three. What advice do you have?
Signed,
Out of Control
Dear Out of Control,
I don’t really see a negative in this, with the exception of your insecurities. The man has remained your friend for several years without sexing you on the regular. In my world, that means that his feelings for you are quite sincere and you should appreciate that. People fear the unknown and I think that while the two of you are quite comfortable in your connection, and feelings for each other, you both fear what may or may not happen. The one thing that I do know for sure is that trials and tribulations in life are much easier to bear with someone to walk beside of you and hold your hand. Yes, he is going on active duty and yes, you crave a lot of attention, so while the conditions may not be ideal, that does not negate you being ideal for each other.
What you need to do now is have a deep, heartfelt conversation. He asked you where the recent lovemaking session leaves you. Only you can define your happiness and what you are willing or not willing to sacrifice in order to obtain it. He may not be there for you every day but there are some men who are around 24-7 and yet their women do not feel an ounce of love. Stop doubting him, and yourself, and appreciate and love that man.
Blessings,
Zane
Monday, May 24, 2010
A Horny Lost Teen: An Advice Question
Dear Zane,
I have two problems. I have a skin disorder called psoriasis on my lower back and my crack. It is not that severe but I usually don’t let men hit it from the back because of it. How can I tell my partners that I’m self-cautious about that? My second problem is that I am five-four and I am a big girl. I weight about 234 pounds and I have stretch marks. I hate to take my shirt off during sex. How can I get over that?
Signed,
Horny Lost Teen
Dear Horny Lost Teen,
Any man who lies down with you has already accepted you as you are. Without some level of attraction, you would not even be in the position to feel uncomfortable. As far as your weight, you can change that by simply realizing that you must burn more calories than you eat. That, coupled with exercise, will work wonders but until then, accept who you are. There is beauty in everyone and for those shallow-minded individuals who do not realize that, that is their issue and not yours.
If you have not been to a dermatologist because of your psoriasis, then you should seek out an opinion. If you are on medication for it, then wait and see what happens. My bigger concern is that you do not feel comfortable with your lovers. That is what making love is all about. Being one with another person, free of worry and judgment. If that is not what you are getting from the experiences, you are lying down with the wrong men.
Blessings,
Zane
I have two problems. I have a skin disorder called psoriasis on my lower back and my crack. It is not that severe but I usually don’t let men hit it from the back because of it. How can I tell my partners that I’m self-cautious about that? My second problem is that I am five-four and I am a big girl. I weight about 234 pounds and I have stretch marks. I hate to take my shirt off during sex. How can I get over that?
Signed,
Horny Lost Teen
Dear Horny Lost Teen,
Any man who lies down with you has already accepted you as you are. Without some level of attraction, you would not even be in the position to feel uncomfortable. As far as your weight, you can change that by simply realizing that you must burn more calories than you eat. That, coupled with exercise, will work wonders but until then, accept who you are. There is beauty in everyone and for those shallow-minded individuals who do not realize that, that is their issue and not yours.
If you have not been to a dermatologist because of your psoriasis, then you should seek out an opinion. If you are on medication for it, then wait and see what happens. My bigger concern is that you do not feel comfortable with your lovers. That is what making love is all about. Being one with another person, free of worry and judgment. If that is not what you are getting from the experiences, you are lying down with the wrong men.
Blessings,
Zane
A Wife Scorned: An Advice Question
Dear Zane,
I have been married for four years. Over the course of the past three, he has been flirting with other women on the computer and over the phone. He went out of town earlier this year and since the phone is in my name, I have full access to the call logs. Even though he realizes that, when I checked his photo files, there was a picture of what appeared to be his face buried in this bitch’s pussy. He denied it and went through a crying spell. I tried to confront the girl but she wouldn’t respond. We are still together and I don’t know why. There is some love there but he irks the shit out of me. I don’t even want him to touch me, let alone sex me, but I don’t know if I should try and make it work. Maybe you can give me some advice. Please help.
Signed,
Wife Scorned
Dear Wife Scorned,
Even though your husband’s behavior is sad, what is truly sad is your confusion over what you should do about it. That level of disrespect can only lead to a continuance of the same, or worse. If seeing a photo of his face in another chick’s snatch is not enough to make you realize that he is not worth your time, I am not sure what would be. The fact that he has spent three-fourths of your marriage flirting with other women on the Internet and talking to them on the phone means that he is married but still looking. He clearly does not feel that you complete what he perceives to be his total package. You cannot make something work unless both parties are going to put forth the effort. So what if he cried? That’s what most men do when they get busted. They cry, beg for forgiveness, promise to never do it again, whip out their dicks to soothe things over, and then go right back to their doggish ways as soon as the opportunity presents itself; sometimes even the same day.
He may have denied it but you know it was him. Why would a man have a photo of another man performing oral sex on a woman in his phone? Besides, you can recognize your own husband; even if it is only the back of his head. You have two options: you can accept that your husband is going to cheat on you regardless of your feelings, or you can put a stop to the ridiculous situation. He is not going to do anything because since you have apparently accepted that nonsense, he thinks that he has it made. Unfortunately way too many women do put up with blatant disrespect and that’s why men continue to do it.
Blessings,
Zane
I have been married for four years. Over the course of the past three, he has been flirting with other women on the computer and over the phone. He went out of town earlier this year and since the phone is in my name, I have full access to the call logs. Even though he realizes that, when I checked his photo files, there was a picture of what appeared to be his face buried in this bitch’s pussy. He denied it and went through a crying spell. I tried to confront the girl but she wouldn’t respond. We are still together and I don’t know why. There is some love there but he irks the shit out of me. I don’t even want him to touch me, let alone sex me, but I don’t know if I should try and make it work. Maybe you can give me some advice. Please help.
Signed,
Wife Scorned
Dear Wife Scorned,
Even though your husband’s behavior is sad, what is truly sad is your confusion over what you should do about it. That level of disrespect can only lead to a continuance of the same, or worse. If seeing a photo of his face in another chick’s snatch is not enough to make you realize that he is not worth your time, I am not sure what would be. The fact that he has spent three-fourths of your marriage flirting with other women on the Internet and talking to them on the phone means that he is married but still looking. He clearly does not feel that you complete what he perceives to be his total package. You cannot make something work unless both parties are going to put forth the effort. So what if he cried? That’s what most men do when they get busted. They cry, beg for forgiveness, promise to never do it again, whip out their dicks to soothe things over, and then go right back to their doggish ways as soon as the opportunity presents itself; sometimes even the same day.
He may have denied it but you know it was him. Why would a man have a photo of another man performing oral sex on a woman in his phone? Besides, you can recognize your own husband; even if it is only the back of his head. You have two options: you can accept that your husband is going to cheat on you regardless of your feelings, or you can put a stop to the ridiculous situation. He is not going to do anything because since you have apparently accepted that nonsense, he thinks that he has it made. Unfortunately way too many women do put up with blatant disrespect and that’s why men continue to do it.
Blessings,
Zane
Friday, April 23, 2010
An Update from Zane
Do not forget to check out "Zane's Sex Chronicles" tonight on Cinemax at 11:50 PM EST. The episode is called "The Stakeout" and you definitely don't want to miss it. We are more than halfway through the season and things are about to really heat up! If you are wondering about the web site that Hunter has been hanging out on to meet women on the show, www.blackgentlemen.com, does really exist. I own it and it is free to join. Please spread the word.
Also, my next book “The Hot Box” will be released in August. You can find the synopsis below. It is a “scorcher!”
Meanwhile, if you haven’t read “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” I hope that you will give it a shot. I have not heard one person say that they did not “LOVE” the book yet. That is a wonderful feeling as an author.
“Stealing Candy” by my protégé, Allison Hobbs, is being released in July, along with “The Punany Experience: The War Between Tops and Bottoms” by Jessica Holter of The Punany Poets. We are going to heat up your summer! Right now, if you make any purchase on www.zanestore.com, you will receive a free advanced reading copy of one of those titles. Yes, you can get them before anyone else!
You can also purchase the first season of “Zane’s Sex Chronicles” on DVD at www.zanestore.com.
As always, thanks for the love. I love and appreciate you all. Have a wonderful and productive weekend. And remember: When God doesn’t give you what you want, it is because it’s not what you need.
Follow me on Twitter at “PlanetZane.” MySpace at “Zaneland” and FaceBook as “ZaneStrebor.” Also, if you are really looking for the freakiest space on the Internet, join PlanetZane.org. In the coming weeks and months, I will be offering exclusive material only on Planet Zane. On Mondays, join me for my weekly Zaniac Chat at 10 PM EST. That is the only time and place that I chat. Planet Zane is 100% free so check it out.
Blessings,
Zane
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
Also, my next book “The Hot Box” will be released in August. You can find the synopsis below. It is a “scorcher!”
Meanwhile, if you haven’t read “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” I hope that you will give it a shot. I have not heard one person say that they did not “LOVE” the book yet. That is a wonderful feeling as an author.
“Stealing Candy” by my protégé, Allison Hobbs, is being released in July, along with “The Punany Experience: The War Between Tops and Bottoms” by Jessica Holter of The Punany Poets. We are going to heat up your summer! Right now, if you make any purchase on www.zanestore.com, you will receive a free advanced reading copy of one of those titles. Yes, you can get them before anyone else!
You can also purchase the first season of “Zane’s Sex Chronicles” on DVD at www.zanestore.com.
As always, thanks for the love. I love and appreciate you all. Have a wonderful and productive weekend. And remember: When God doesn’t give you what you want, it is because it’s not what you need.
Follow me on Twitter at “PlanetZane.” MySpace at “Zaneland” and FaceBook as “ZaneStrebor.” Also, if you are really looking for the freakiest space on the Internet, join PlanetZane.org. In the coming weeks and months, I will be offering exclusive material only on Planet Zane. On Mondays, join me for my weekly Zaniac Chat at 10 PM EST. That is the only time and place that I chat. Planet Zane is 100% free so check it out.
Blessings,
Zane
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Hot Box by Zane--Coming this August
The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
Zane's Sex Chronicles on Cinemax Tonight
Don't miss tonight's episode of "Zane's Sex Chronicles" on Cinemax at 11:50 PM. It is called "On The Prowl." Please spread the word.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Zane's Sex Chronicles Tonight!
Please tune into Blind Date: Episode 6 of Zane’s Sex Chronicles, Season Two tonight at 11:35 PM on Cinemax. Thanks for all of the continuous support and love.
Also, I am extremely flattered to be among the other women in the below article on Black Voices.
http://www.bvonmoney.com/2010/04/08/top-10-african-american-women-business/
If you have not read my latest book Total Eclipse of the Heart, I hope that you will check it out.
For those of you interested in the DVDs of the first season of Zane’s Sex Chronicles, they can be purchased online from various web sites, including www.zanestore.com. Right now, if you place an order on www.zanestore.com, you will receive a free advanced reading copy of Allison Hobbs latest book, Stealing Candy. The book will not be released until July 2010 so you can be one of the first to read it. Like all of Allison Hobbs’ books, this one is a real page-turner. If you haven’t read any of her books, you are truly missing out as she is the only woman on the planet freakier than me.
As always, thanks for the love and the support. I truly love and appreciate you all.
Blessings,
Zane
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Air Dates for Zane's Sex Chronicles
Here are the airdates for the episode that premiered last Friday, in case you missed it, and the next three episodes. Please let everyone know. Thanks, Zane
Episode 17: Physical Therapy
April 2nd, 12:30am – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 4th, 3:00am
April 6th, 11:50pm
April 7th, 1:20am
April 10th, 12:10am
April 11th, 12:20am
Episode 18: Blind Date
April 9th, 11:35pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 11th, 12:50am
April 13th, 11:45pm
April 14th, 1:45am
April 17th, 1:10am
Episode 19: On the Prowl
April 16th, 11:50pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 18th, 3:10am
April 20th, 12:05am
April 21st, 3:00am
April 24th, 12:00am
Episode 20: The Stakeout
April 23rd, 11:50pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 25th, 3:00am
April 27th, 12:15am
April 28th, 1:30am
May 1st, 11:45pm
May 2nd, 12:40am
Episode 17: Physical Therapy
April 2nd, 12:30am – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 4th, 3:00am
April 6th, 11:50pm
April 7th, 1:20am
April 10th, 12:10am
April 11th, 12:20am
Episode 18: Blind Date
April 9th, 11:35pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 11th, 12:50am
April 13th, 11:45pm
April 14th, 1:45am
April 17th, 1:10am
Episode 19: On the Prowl
April 16th, 11:50pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 18th, 3:10am
April 20th, 12:05am
April 21st, 3:00am
April 24th, 12:00am
Episode 20: The Stakeout
April 23rd, 11:50pm – EPISODE PREMIERE
April 25th, 3:00am
April 27th, 12:15am
April 28th, 1:30am
May 1st, 11:45pm
May 2nd, 12:40am
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Excerpt of Big Juicy Lipps: Double Dippin' 2 by Allison Hobbs
Here is an excerpt from the book Big Juicy Lipps by Allison Hobbs that I had Ana Marie reading at the end of the second episode this year. Like I said, Allison is on fire. You can get all of her titles on www.zanestore.com
CHAPTER 1
“I wonder if those creams really work.” Misty trailed a finger over Brick’s soft penis, trying to caress the sagging appendage back to life.
Lying on his back, his head resting on his clasped palms, Brick jerked himself upright. “What kind of cream?”
“Stay-hard cream,” she said nonchalantly, knowing Brick would become incensed.
“What the hell do I need that for?”
“It’s supposed to make you stay hard…last longer.” Misty sighed, withdrew her finger, clearly giving up on any hope that Brick would become erect.
“Cut that shit!” Brick scowled, further distorting his face, which was already disfigured by a cruel scar that ran jagged from his hairline down to his chin. “I pounded on you for two straight hours—killing that pussy. But I held back, didn’t bust ’til after you did.” Brick gave Misty a look of disbelief. “What? You expect my jawn to stay hard for two, three days?” Brick gave a little chuckle, but the sound lacked mirth. “Come on, Misty, stop being so greedy. I gotta get some sleep.” Brick rolled over on his side. He pulled the top sheet over his mountainous body and also over his head. His back, broad and hard as granite, was turned stubbornly toward Misty.
“You claim you love me, but you’re so selfish, sometimes!” Being spiteful, Misty plucked Brick in the back of his sheet-covered head.
“Stop frontin’; you know you got yours,” Brick mumbled, his face buried in the pillow.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t get shit; I faked it! I knew you were tired, so I faked it so you could bust, rest up and start all over again. I didn’t think you’d lay your selfish ass down and try to get your snore on.” Growing more resentful by the minute, Misty swatted Brick with her pillow.
He threw the sheet off his head. “Stop lying. After all these years, you think I don’t know when your lil’ ass is faking?” He flung the pillow she’d hit him with, but used much more force than he’d intended. The thumping sound made by the pillow, as it connected with Misty in the face, resonated inside the bedroom.
Misty’s mouth dropped open, stunned that Brick had hit her. It didn’t matter that it was just a playful smack of a pillow and that no real harm had been done. She was furious at his audacity. The five-foot, one hundred and five pound little dynamo pummeled Brick’s hard-as-concrete arm and shoulder, but quickly realized that he barely felt the blows from her small fists. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?” she yelled and then, using all her strength, she elbowed him viciously, but couldn’t do any damage to the big man.
Brick laughed and said, “Ow! I might need an ambulance.”
Misty rubbed her cheek. “I don’t see anything funny about a big ass man whipping my ass and leaving welts all over my face.”
“Whipping your ass? Is that what you gon’ tell the po-po?” He laughed even harder, his loving eyes adoring her, despite her fury.
“It’s not funny, Brick! My face feels like it’s starting to swell up.”
Brick sat up. His unattractive, scarred face was frowned in confusion and concern. “I didn’t mean to throw the pillow that hard. Misty, baby. I’m sorry, aiight?”
“No! It’s not aiight. You threw that jawn like it was a football; acting like you Donovan McNabb or somebody.”
Gently, the giant of a man pulled Misty’s small, delicate hand away from her face. With increased concern, he scrutinized the right side of her undeniably beautiful face and then he inspected the left side. “It’s aiight, Misty. Ain’t no marks,” he said, genuinely contrite. “I didn’t mean it. You know I forget my strength. I’d hurt myself before I’d put a mark on your pretty face.” Involuntarily, his hand touched the gruesome, jagged scar on his face, taking both him and Misty back to the dreadful night it happened.
Shaking away the memory, Misty refused to dwell on the past. “You gotta stop playin’ all the time. If it wasn’t for me—the way I look—we couldn’t make any money. Shit, we wouldn’t get in all those clubs for free or nothing,” Misty sighed, giving Brick a look of disgust. Suddenly, she grimaced and clutched her stomach.
“What’s wrong? Did I go too far up in you?”
“No,” she uttered in a pained, raspy whisper. “Cramps.” She bent at the waist and commenced to rock and moan softly.
The worry lines that intermingled with his jagged scar made Brick appear more grotesque than he actually was. “I didn’t know you had cramps. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were acting all sleepy and everything, so I was going to try to get you in the mood—trying to get you aroused.”
Brick’s eyes saddened. “Misty, baby, why’d you let me fuck you so hard if your stomach was hurting?”
“It wasn’t that bad, yet.”
“So, why you have to come at me all shady, pretending that you were horny? If I banged you again, you’d be in worse pain.” He looked in her eyes intently. “You gotta let me know, when you feeling bad. It don’t matter how tired I am, I’d never go to sleep and leave you laying awake, in pain. And you know it.” His voice rose in anger.
“I said that I’m sorry for not telling you, so stop yelling. That’s not making it any better.” Annoyed, Misty sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Can I get something off of my chest?” he asked, voice lowered.
She nodded, her expression becoming increasingly pained.
“Why you got so much game, Misty? You be trying to get over when you don’t even have to?”
Misty smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Brick. You know that I have a big problem with honesty.”
“I know.” Brick caressed her silky hair. “It’s all good, though. You were a born scam artist. Real talk; your game is tight. But you act like you in this by yourself.” He shook his head. “I’m on your side. How many times I gotta prove myself? I’m ride or die.” Brick nodded, emphatically.
“I know you’re on my side, Brick,” she said, and tenderly traced his scar with her fingertip, silently acknowledging the sacrifice he’d made for her.
“This is our crib,” Brick went on. “This is where you rest your head at night. When you come home, you gotta leave all the game at the door.”
Pretending remorse, Misty lowered her head, while Brick continued to adoringly run his fingers through her long hair. Misty spoke softly. “I hear what you’re saying, but don’t get it twisted. I like you and everything, but there ain’t nothing but larceny in my heart. That’s how I keep us living good. My brain is working overtime, always figuring out new ways to scam mufuckas. I don’t have time for that lovey dovey shit. Feel me?”
He nodded, head bowed in sorrow.
“Don’t take it personally, Brick. It’s hard doing what I do,” she said, pouting.
“I know, I know.” Brick raised his head, reached up and massaged Misty’s shoulders.
“And tonight…dealing with all this pain—” She winced and pressed her hands against her stomach. “I can’t think straight. Brick, you gotta make a run to the store. Get me some Midol for these cramps.”
“Midol! You don’t need that! Whatchu think you got me for? I got the best remedy for your cramps.”
“Well, do something. I’m in pain,” she whimpered, biting her lip as if fighting unbearable agony.
Brick repositioned Misty, pulled her to the edge of the bed, allowing her legs to dangle. He bent low and crouched between her thighs.
Misty shivered when she felt Brick’s rough facial hairs scrape against her thighs. “I’m sorry for lying to you, Brick,” she murmured, speaking in the fake, tiny voice she used on tricks, Brick, and her mother to get what she wanted.
She could feel Brick’s semen starting to bubble outside her pussy, slowly saturating her pubic hairs.
“Hold up,” he said. “I’ll get a washcloth and clean you up.”
“Ow!” she blurted and rubbed her stomach frantically.
Brick looked in the direction of the bathroom and back at Misty. “You hurting, real bad?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Oh, God!” she cried out, and tried to sit up as if the pain had gone up a notch. The extra effort exerted inadvertently caused more semen to erupt and trickle out. Misty pressed her thighs together, while moaning in pain. “Hurry up, Brick, go get the washcloth,” she said, pitifully. She knew he disliked the sour taste of his own semen and only ate her cum-drenched pussy under extreme emergencies. But watching him suck his thick ejaculation out of her coochie aroused her like crazy; gave her a body-quacking orgasm.
She pretended to cry.
“Don’t cry, Misty, baby. You know I gotchu, girl,” Brick assured her with eyes filled with love.
Playing her part to the hilt, Misty continued to twist and writhe, all the while rubbing her stomach and moaning, “It hurts. Oh, Brick. Help me, it hurts so bad.” She could feel a thick stream of his semen, trailing down one of her thighs. Just in case the sight of it repelled him, she cunningly took her theatrics to another level, sobbing as if she were in critical condition.
“Relax, Misty. Open your legs.”
Misty wanted to break into a wide grin, but she grimaced as if in excruciating pain. Brick tenderly parted her thighs. She could feel the slimy ejaculation, now stuck on both thighs. Brick’s loving lips went straight to the center of her semen-saturated honey pot, sucking and kissing it; showing her coochie mad love. He gently separated her cum-stuck pussy lips with his moist tongue. Once he had her pussy wide open, he sucked on her snatch—healing it—giving it mouth to mouth resuscitation.
He went from sucking to licking. His tongue strokes felt so good, so soothing, it took an enormous amount of willpower for Misty to resist wrapping her legs around his neck and grinding her slushy coochie all over his scarred face. “Mmm,” she uttered spontaneously. “Oh, baby. I feel so much better,” she moaned, twisting and shuddering, no longer able to restrain herself.
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.” She sounded tentative.
“Go for it, then.”
“For real?”
“Yeah,” Brick said, huskily. “Don’t worry about me. Do you. Get your thing off, baby.”
That was all Misty needed to hear. She placed frantic pussy rotations on Brick’s lips for a few moments. Then crudely, disrespectfully, she slid her cunt up and down his face, abusively smearing cum and pussy juice on his forehead, eyelids, nose, mouth, and chin, all the while crying out and calling Brick horrible, degrading names.
Seconds later, Misty felt her coochie walls contracting. Heightening her arousal, she called Brick an ugly monster, a beast, and every other deplorable name that seemed fitting. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she geared up for an erotic explosion that would soon gush out and splatter Brick’s ugly face.
CHAPTER 2
Misty’s body shook from the final, orgasmic tremor.
“Feel better?” Brick’s face was shiny, glazed from her juices. Misty sat up and looked at him. She turned up her nose. She scooted backward. “Eew! You stink, Brick. Your face smells rank; like cum.”
Misty’s spiteful words stung badly, but Brick kept the hurt from appearing on his face. “Yeah, you’re feelin’ better,” he said as he got off his knees. “You’re back to your same ol’ evil, ways.”
Recoiling, Misty grimaced. “Back up, away from me! I’m not trying to talk to you with all that stank cum crusted up in your beard and your mustache. Go, wash your face!”
“You must have a stank pussy ’cause your pussy juice is mixed up in there, too,” he retorted weakly as he headed toward the bathroom. Brick tried to play it off.
Misty could tell his feelings were hurt, but she didn’t care. “My coochie does not have an odor. Your foul-ass seed is funking up the whole bedroom,” she added, maliciously, scowling and fanning her face.
The sound of water running in the sink indicated that Brick was handling his business. Misty looked down at her thighs and recoiled. “Bring me a warm washcloth! Cum is smeared all over my legs. Why you so nasty, Brick?” Then she felt around and snatched her hand back in anger. “Damn, you get on my nerves!”
“Now, what I do?” he called from the bathroom.
“It looks like you shot a gallon of cum. Slimy shit is all over the sheets and everything. I can’t sleep overtop of no cum-stained sheets. You have to change this bed linen. Hurry up!”
“Aiight, gimme a minute. I got rid of your cramps and everything, but I can’t even get a half-ass thank you,” he said, glumly. “Brick, do this . . . Brick, do that . . .” he complained, mimicking her loud, high-pitched voice.
“Hurry up!” She’d been bossing him around for as long as she could remember. She squinted in thought. Hmmm. She’d met Brick back in first or second grade. He was in the class with the slow learners. She was in the accelerated class. His dumb ass wouldn’t know which way to turn if she didn’t point him in the right direction.
Brick was six feet four and two hundred and sixty pounds of solid muscle. Misty was barely five feet and weighed one hundred and two pounds. Tiny and mighty, Misty was the boss bitch in their relationship.
He entered the bedroom with a soapy, warm washcloth in his hand. A set of sheets were tucked under his arm. He laid the clean bed linen at the foot of the bed and cleaned the crusted cum off Misty’s thighs and outside her vagina. Very carefully, he separated her inner folds and cleaned the soft pink flesh. “Aiight, you’re straight. Get up so I can make the bed.”
“I’m tired,” Misty whined.
“You gotta get your lazy lil’ ass up if you want to sleep on clean sheets.”
Lazily, Misty eased off the bed. “You must not be working hard enough,” she informed him as she watched him pull the rumpled top sheet off the bed.
“What! It’s two in the morning . . . you sent me on that appointment. I came home and fucked you, I ate your pussy, I cleaned your pussy, and now you got me changing the bed. What more do you want me to do?” Brick sounded hurt, but Misty’s expression held no compassion.
“Yo, nigga,” she said, twisting her neck and injecting bass in her feminine voice. “You shot out a gallon of cum. There’s no way in hell you should be shooting a big load like that, if you’re working as hard as you should.” Misty snorted. “But that’s on me; I’ll take the responsibility for it. I’ve been too soft on you. But you better believe, playtime time is over. You gotta step up your game.”
Solemnly, Brick continued making the bed, his head hung low. Misty wasn’t moved by the ‘poor Brick’ routine.
“We got bills to pay. You can’t hustle a couple times a week and think it’s all good. Shit, just gassing up the new truck is costing us a grip. You gotta start bringing in more money and it’s my job to push you to make sure you do.”
Brick’s brows crinkled together. “Baby, I think it’s all the shopping you do that keeps us in the hole.”
Misty reared back in shock. “What! You expect me to go around looking like a ragamuffin?”
“That ain’t what I’m saying.”
“Whatchu saying, then?”
“I know you have to keep your gear up. I’m just saying, you shop two or three times a day; sometimes four. Don’t you think that might be a problem?”
“No! And you shouldn’t either. If shopping makes me feel good, you just shut the fuck up and keep that money coming.”
“I can take on some part-time work,” he said in a meek voice.
She gave a loud, derisive, snort.
“I could start robbing niggas again,” he suggested. “That’s an easy hustle.”
“Look at me, Brick,” Misty said through clenched teeth. He didn’t look up. “Look the fuck at me!” she yelled.
Prompted by her tone, Brick looked her directly in the eye. Curled, naked in a chair, Misty glared at him, making him squirm for a few uncomfortable moments. “How long have I been looking out for you—for us?” she asked with strained patience.
“A long time,” he muttered.
“How long!” she shouted.
“Since we were kids.”
“Don’t you think by now, I know what’s best for us?”
Brick nodded.
“Do you know how fuckin’ stupid you sound, talkin’ about robbing mufuckas? First of all, that shit is illegal. I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on doing anymore time. Second, robbing niggas only brings in a coupla dollars—it’s unpredictable employment. I’m not psychic and neither are you. I can’t point out a mufucka and calculate how much he’s carrying in his pocket or how much loot he can withdraw from the ATM machine. But the hustle we got going on is bringing in a lot of cheese. I have a master plan that’s gonna have us rolling in dough. But you have to cooperate.”
“I will,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna put up a website, featuring you. After I get that going, we’ll be counting so much IRS-can’t-tax money, we’ll have to hire somebody to set up an offshore bank account for us.”
Horror covered Brick’s face. “You wanna put me on a website?”
“Do you know how many people we could reach, if your King Kong dong was presented online? The way we’re handling things is requiring a whole lot of unnecessary legwork. Once I get the website poppin’, the sky’s the limit,” she said proudly.
“I don’t like that idea, Misty.”
Misty was momentarily silent. Seething, she looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Oh, really? I guess you forgot where you came from.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Nigga, who took up for you when the kids teased your ass in school?”
“You did,” he mumbled, looking pained by the unpleasant and harsh shove down memory lane.
“And who was standing next to you, cheering like a fuckin’ Laker Girl, the first time you had the heart to go upside a nigga’s head?”
“You was, Misty, baby. You gave me the nerve to crack nigga’s heads.”
“I damn sure did,” she snarled. “You were scared of your own shadow until I made you believe you could whip everybody’s ass.” She stared at him for a few moments. “Did I lie?”
“No, you ain’t lie.”
“How did me and you—two fourth graders—manage to beat middle school niggas out of their lunch money?”
“’Cause you gave me my heart,” Brick admitted, looking resigned to having his image posted on a website.
On a rant, Misty sucked in a big burst of air. “So, how come when I got locked up two years ago you couldn’t do shit for me or for your damn self? You almost starved to death when I got popped. But as soon as I got out, we started eating again, didn’t we?”
Brick nodded, head held low. “True dat. You right.”
“I hate to talk about Shane—God rest his soul—but Shane was supposed to be your boy—your best friend, but he didn’t look out for you. Shane was all about self—” Misty paused and swallowed. “The only other person he gave a fuck about was his twin, or so he claimed, but after what he did to Tariq, we now know Shane only cared about Shane.” Misty and Brick both went silent as they mused over the night Shane Batista’s twin brother, Tariq, was hit by a car and killed after witnessing Shane in bed with his wife, Janelle. Shane lost his mind and was never the same.
Misty shook the memory away. “While I was doing that bid, you were ass-out, with nobody you could depend on.” Though she talked harshly of Shane, in her heart, she held no ill will toward him. In fact, she hated having to drag Shane’s name through the mud just to get through Brick’s thick skull.
True, Shane was selfish as hell at times, but he also had a sweet, giving side. To know him was to love and hate him—it depended on how he wanted you to feel. If Shane Batista wanted something—he turned on the charm. If he didn’t need shit from you, he gave you his ass to kiss, which was why Misty had fallen hard for him, and had loved him until the day he died. Despite everything, she’d always believed that Shane loved her too. It was a heartbreaking, soul-wrenching discovery, when Misty’s found out that Shane had knocked up and married some goodie-two shoes named Kapri.
Later, when she learned that he’d gotten a divorce and had turned around and married his dead brother’s ugly-ass wife, she’d damn near had a nervous breakdown.
When she’d heard that Shane had committed suicide, she was distraught over the loss of that good dick. Oh, well. Rest in peace, Shane. Misty returned her thoughts to the present, and gave Brick a scathing look.
“I’ve been carrying your weight too many years for you to tell me that I’m making a bad decision. One thing I can’t stand is an ungrateful, nigga.”
Brick abandoned the bed-making task and approached the chair where Misty sat. “I’m sorry for questioning your decisions and for acting ungrateful. I know we gotta eat, baby. I’m real sorry.”
“Yeah, we gotta eat steak and seafood. Fuck Ramen damn noodles,” Misty added with laughter.
Looking pleased that he’d been able to lift her spirits, Brick threw in, “Yeah, fuck Ramen Noodles and Cheese Curls.”
“That’s not funny, Brick. Why’d you have to bring up Cheese Curls? You always gotta fuck up my mood.” Her facial expression turned angry; her tone, resentful.
Brick stared at her, wide-eyed. “What did I do?”
“Why you gotta talk about prison food? Damn! You know how much I despise being reminded of that mess I had to eat while I was in jail.” She shook her head. “Ramen Noodles and Cheese Curls!” Misty repeated, grimacing as she spat out each word. She cut her eyes at the partially-made bed. “Why is it taking so long to change the sheets?”
Friday, April 2, 2010
You Are Loved and Appreciated
Please tune in to Zane’s Sex Chronicles tonight at 12:30 AM for Episode Five of the Second Season. Patience really ignites a fire underneath Hunter that you do not want to miss.
Also, through tomorrow night at midnight, you can enter “ZSC” as your coupon code on http://www.zanestore.com/ and save an additional 10% off your entire order. If you have not read Allison Hobbs, if you love my reads, you will be blown away by hers. She has more than a dozen titles and counting. Do not sleep on her.
The first season of Zane’s Sex Chronicles is also available on http://www.zanestore.com/, along with all of the other writers that I publish. Please give them a chance because they are all phenomenal. If you would like for me to personally sign any titles, please put that request in the Comments section on the order form. I would be delighted.
Thanks for all of the love for Total Eclipse of the Heart. It was one of my favorite books to write and it was the most touching for me to experience.
If no one has told you that you are loved and appreciated today, I love and appreciate you.
Blessings,
Zane
Also, through tomorrow night at midnight, you can enter “ZSC” as your coupon code on http://www.zanestore.com/ and save an additional 10% off your entire order. If you have not read Allison Hobbs, if you love my reads, you will be blown away by hers. She has more than a dozen titles and counting. Do not sleep on her.
The first season of Zane’s Sex Chronicles is also available on http://www.zanestore.com/, along with all of the other writers that I publish. Please give them a chance because they are all phenomenal. If you would like for me to personally sign any titles, please put that request in the Comments section on the order form. I would be delighted.
Thanks for all of the love for Total Eclipse of the Heart. It was one of my favorite books to write and it was the most touching for me to experience.
If no one has told you that you are loved and appreciated today, I love and appreciate you.
Blessings,
Zane
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Virgin Lez
Dear Zane,
You have really helped me to be sexually open with men. I have been with my partner of three years; she is my first lesbian relationship and sexual partner. We get along fine and are the best of friends but, sexually, we are drifting apart. I will admit that it has resulted with me cheating last year. She forgave me and moved past it. Since then, we have tried some new things—all my ideas—but my sexual appetite is still not satisfied. Is it me? I’m starting to feel like an addict. She isn’t as sexually open as I prefer. Part of me wants to put the relationship on hold for a while to explore, but I feel that it’s not worth the risk of losing her. Usually, I am good at making decisions but I am really confused on what to do. Please help.
Signed,
Virgin Lez
Dear Virgin Lez,
I would be very curious to know if you cheated on her with a man or a woman. Since you said “she is” your first lesbian relationship and sexual partner, I am going to make the assumption that you cheated with a man. Therein might lie the real problem. Could it be that you are not satisfied because you still have a yearning for men?
I do not believe that you are an addict. Too many people use that term much too loosely. Yes, sexual addiction is a real disease and I have written much about it but unless you are running around sleeping with random strangers without thinking about it first, you are not an addict. What you are is unsatisfied with your current situation. You are not sexually compatible with your lover, and that may or may not have something to do with her being female. Yet and still, you want something that she is not providing and neither one of you is to blame. People are just people and the most important thing in life it so be happy.
If you ask to take a break, chances are that you will be permanently ending the intimate relationship. Think about it. If someone told you that they wanted to take a break to explore other possibilities, you would think that it meant you were not considered good enough for them; especially after three years. Most people are not going to risk having their heart broken by the same person twice; the sting is bad enough the first time.
You need to decide what your true feelings are for this woman. Three years is a huge chunk out of life in the true perspective of things. If everything else is going okay, you might want to stick it out, but only you can decide how important sex is to you. At least you are having sex together. There are a ton of couples that have not slept together in years, but put on pretenses for the kids and other onlookers. You have not cheated since last year and that is a good sign but you need to determine why it happened and how you can prevent it from happening again. If you cannot figure those two things out, you may need to put her well-being first and set her free. Otherwise, it is all destined to happen again.
Blessings,
Zane
Engaged to One Man but In Love With Another
Dear Zane,
I’m in a very confusing, stressful situation. I’m caught in a love triangle. I’m currently engaged to be married to a man that I like to convince myself that I love. On the other hand, I’m in love with another man. Both have something the other doesn’t have but my lover is that one that I’m more attracted to physically… and sexually. I’ve tried to forget my lover many times, but I can’t resist. I can’t leave my fiancé because we have so much together. I really don’t know how to decide. Please, Zane, help me!
Signed,
Stressed and Confused
Dear Stressed and Confused,
You are not going to want to hear my answer but I suspect you have already come to the same conclusion. You are obviously with your fiancé because the two of you are tied together financially. You probably live together in a nice home, have comingled finances, and are, on the surface, building a stable life in unity. However, you are trying to convince yourself that you love him but you know for a fact that you are “in love” with the other man.
You cannot control your feelings and if you cannot resist your lover before the wedding, you will not be able to stay away from him after the nuptials. That begs the question: why get married in the first place if you are not going to be true to your vows? I seriously doubt that the other man loves you. Most men will not share a woman sexually that they have deep feelings for. He considers you a “sex piece” and is probably enjoying the fact that he is getting it whenever he wants it without having to make a commitment. He does not have that worry because another man has already done it.
You are wrong, point blank, and nothing good can continue with you going on this path. My suggestion is that you break off your engagement because you do not even love the man. He deserves better and even though there will be initial drama and heartbreak, it is better to do it now than 5-10 years down the road when children are involved and you are tied together even more financially. What you are doing it not fair and you would not want him to be with you for material reasons and be sleeping with another woman for love.
As for the other man, you would be delusional to think that he would ever see you as a serious prospect for marriage after this. Now, in my vast history of experience, I know of one man who married a woman that he had initially had an affair with while she was married to someone else. And yes, she ended up cheating on him also later on down the road. You really need to get yourself together INDEPENDENTLY and not allow yourself to be defined by the man—or men—that occupy your bed. I do not honestly expect you to take my advice. Like I said, you more-than-likely knew all of this already but since you asked, here it is.
Blessings,
Zane
I’m in a very confusing, stressful situation. I’m caught in a love triangle. I’m currently engaged to be married to a man that I like to convince myself that I love. On the other hand, I’m in love with another man. Both have something the other doesn’t have but my lover is that one that I’m more attracted to physically… and sexually. I’ve tried to forget my lover many times, but I can’t resist. I can’t leave my fiancé because we have so much together. I really don’t know how to decide. Please, Zane, help me!
Signed,
Stressed and Confused
Dear Stressed and Confused,
You are not going to want to hear my answer but I suspect you have already come to the same conclusion. You are obviously with your fiancé because the two of you are tied together financially. You probably live together in a nice home, have comingled finances, and are, on the surface, building a stable life in unity. However, you are trying to convince yourself that you love him but you know for a fact that you are “in love” with the other man.
You cannot control your feelings and if you cannot resist your lover before the wedding, you will not be able to stay away from him after the nuptials. That begs the question: why get married in the first place if you are not going to be true to your vows? I seriously doubt that the other man loves you. Most men will not share a woman sexually that they have deep feelings for. He considers you a “sex piece” and is probably enjoying the fact that he is getting it whenever he wants it without having to make a commitment. He does not have that worry because another man has already done it.
You are wrong, point blank, and nothing good can continue with you going on this path. My suggestion is that you break off your engagement because you do not even love the man. He deserves better and even though there will be initial drama and heartbreak, it is better to do it now than 5-10 years down the road when children are involved and you are tied together even more financially. What you are doing it not fair and you would not want him to be with you for material reasons and be sleeping with another woman for love.
As for the other man, you would be delusional to think that he would ever see you as a serious prospect for marriage after this. Now, in my vast history of experience, I know of one man who married a woman that he had initially had an affair with while she was married to someone else. And yes, she ended up cheating on him also later on down the road. You really need to get yourself together INDEPENDENTLY and not allow yourself to be defined by the man—or men—that occupy your bed. I do not honestly expect you to take my advice. Like I said, you more-than-likely knew all of this already but since you asked, here it is.
Blessings,
Zane
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