V is for Veronica Ch. 01

Hello Fam! This next series follows Veronica while she's on the rebound. If you've read Ace of Hearts, you may have a special relationship already with Veronica, but it is not necessary to read one series to enjoy the others. I don't know how many parts this one is going to have, but I'll release them as I can, with the understanding that approval through LE can take a while sometimes.

Any Spanish, as usual, or if you're new here, is for flavor, and contextually explained. Google is free.

Throughout this series you can expect a lot of M/F, F/F, F/F/M, and who knows what else. Maybe M/M. Why choose, is what I say. There are themes of promiscuity, adultery, reluctance, humiliation, unrequited love, group sex, terrible terrible jokes and drama, and, of course, filthy pig sex (sans pigs). YMMV.

Everyone featured in my stories are fictional yet consenting adults, 20+.

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Veronica

It's a shitty fucking day and I'm trying to decide if I want to eat pringles, ice cream, a whole jar of Nutella or all of the above.

Who says I can't have it all?

"Treat yo'self," I declare to nobody, stick out my tongue and do my best Cardi B laugh.

Silence in the house. The ghosts don't even appreciate it, malagradecidos that they are.

I sigh. It's March, it's freaking cold, and it feels like one of those never ending winters so everything sucks. The snow is gone but we are still in an endless torment of freezing rain and sleet, and even if I wasn't in break up mode, I'd be tits deep in a seasonal depression, anyway.

My ex and I split on New Years, and I'm still in my feelings. Less about the breakup now, more about it being my brother who he's moving in with this weekend. Into a one bedroom.

Yeah. Yeah.

I'm watching Scrubs for the 30th time bundled up on the couch with chips, ice cream and beer. It's the episode where Turk sings like Aaron Neville into his recorder on the elevator. It has nothing to do with the plot, but it's the part I live for.

Donald Faison, I also live for. I wonder how his arms taste. I sigh. I lick the ice cream off the spoon and text my best friend.

Me: send nudes

Janessa immediately responds with a picture of her fresh manicure, her nails long, shiny, and painted just a shade off her rich bronze skin color.

Me: well played

Me: it looks really nice

Janessa: ill make sure to send u shower pics ;);)

Me: tease

I smile. Today is her cleaning day. I expect I will see a beautifully polished bathroom picture soon.

Janessa: so r we going out????

Me: no

Janessa: u have to fuck someone

Me: then come over :)

Janessa: i will and u will hate it bc i will groom ur nasty ass and force u out

She's not wrong. I sigh.

Me: as long as u touch my ass

Me: maybe tomorrow

Janessa sends me an eyeroll emoji.

Janessa: tmo we goin period

Whatever.

I'm debating my third depression nap of the day when the doorbell rings. I check my phone to see if I missed something; Mami is in NY for the weekend to visit with my tías, and I have zero plans made.

Did I order something and forget? Amazon? Maybe it's the food fairy.

I shuffle to the door, wearing my blanket like a cloak, and peek out the peephole. It is not the food fairy.

My brother's friend Rakeem stands there, his hands in the pockets of his paint and spackle covered jeans. He's wiping his glasses down with the hem of his paint stained white tee shit that's probably sold in a pack of 6.

Ah, Rakeem. I know why he's here.

He glances up when I open the door, meets my gaze, then drops it.

"Hey," he murmurs, his eyes downcast.

"Hey," I chirp. I turn around and waddle back to the couch. He closes the door behind him, locking it like a good lad, leaves his workboots on the shoe tray, and follows me.

He stands and watches the TV for a minute. "Scrubs? Still on your break up binge, then."

I'm eating another spoonful of ice cream. "You don't know me," I garble around the spoon. I give him a big smile full of coconut ice cream. Coconut's my favorite.

"Nasty," he shakes his head with a smile. He's soft spoken, maybe shy even, but he's funny as hell when you can pull him out of his shell.

I study him, and he looks back at me. His full head of long box braids is neat and loosely tied back, highlighting his high cheekbones. His facial hair, while a little overgrown, is cut close along his jawline in an anchor beard that highlights his full lips, and he's stretched his ears further. Very highlighted. Highlit. Whatever. He looks good.

Like, really good.

"You look like shit," I declare. He chuckles.

"You, too," he responds playfully. I nod, he ain't lyin.

"I feel like shit," he sighs. I nod, again. Hard same.

I say as much.

Rakeem flops down on the couch and I prop my feet on his lap. He starts to rub the arches and lets his head drop back to the couch. I close my eyes and sigh, enjoying it.

"It's really done with Audra, huh?" I take a swig of my beer.

He looks down.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to come over," I smirk.

"What do you mean?" his big dark eyes round on me, glittering behind his glasses.

I roll my eyes.

He doesn't say anything, he just looks at me, tired, and squeezes my foot.

We watch TV in silence. After the episode ends, he looks at me like he's trying to figure out what to say. I toss off my blanket and crawl onto his lap to straddle him. He looks up at me and slides his hands up my sides.

"I haven't showered," I murmur. I feel him palm my ass. "These are yesterday's clothes." They're actually the past three days' clothes, but a lady must maintain her mystique.

"Hot," he grins easily, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

I grind down on his lap. Janessa did say I needed to fuck someone and he arrived all but gift wrapped.

His body responds immediately, as it always does, and I feel his arousal against my ass.

"You're going to tell me that this isn't why you're here?" I purr.

We share a soft kiss and he pulls away, looking for something in my face. I don't know what.

"I'm not trying to have beef with your brother," he finally says for the 80th time since high school.

"Rakeem, you mention my brother again with a hardon against my pussy and I will twist off your balls and feed them to you, ya entiendes?" I snap.

Rakeem winces. "Sorry, boo."

"I'm not your boo," I snap again. He drops his gaze. I sigh, climb off his lap and head to the kitchen. "Beer?"

"Yeah," he nods. He has a faraway look.

I hand him a bottle.

"So, why are you here then, if not to cash in?" I open my second can and take a sip.

"For your company?" he raises an eyebrow, he looks at me like I have two heads.

I laugh humorlessly. Okay. Sure. Right.

"Vivi..." he starts, concern knitting his brow.

"Are you staying the night?" I lean against the counter, interrupting him, anything to stop being asked "are you okay" one more stupid time.

He looks around. "Where's your mom?"

"Westchester all weekend."

Rakeem is on his feet making his way to me. Now I have his attention.

"See, you are here for a booty call, you're just scared of my mom." I sneer.

"Stop," he asks softly, and I roll my eyes. He looks at me again, wounded, the pain evident in his gaze.

"Why?" I snark. Ugh. What am I doing? Why am I being such a bitch to him?

"Stop," he repeats with more urgency. "Please, baby girl."

His eyes are red and he looks like he's doing everything he can to keep his shit together. Guilt floods through me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you," I look away. I blink back tears.

"I know you're not." he murmurs and the ache in his voice puts an ache in my heart. He stands in front of me, and I know he's not going to do anything until I ask. I see the twitch in his fingers, and I'm straight up playin' myself if I think I don't need it just as bad.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and nod. Rakeem pulls me into his arms and brushes fallen curls back out of my face. I wrap my arms around him and burrow my face against his chest.

I inhale deeply. I can smell fading traces of paint that are always with him, the musk of his sweat, the spice of his deodorant working double time, and the faint fragrance of his detergent.

I feel my face start to leak. He grips me tighter. He keeps his nose in my hair, breathing deeply and steadily. I fight back the urge to surrender to his embrace, because if I relax into him I know the tears will follow. I want so badly to relax into him. I so badly want to avoid crying.

We stand there like that. When I try to let go, he doesn't let me and I can't resist anymore. The dam breaks, finally allowing me to release the tension in my muscles and I sink into him. I hear the rumble of approval in his chest and I cry into his shirt. He lets me.

I grip the back of his tee. I am so fucking angry I could spit and the tears just won't stop and he just...lets me.

I look up at him after a long moment, collecting myself. He searches my face, swipes the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs, and I am paralyzed with how much I've missed him.

Gently, he brings his lips to mine. Heat blossoms in my lower belly and my heart rate doubles. I deepen the kiss and he easily yields to my probing tongue.

He brings his hands to my face and draws me out like honey, slow and sweet. I taste his heartache, his longing. My mouth remembers his like his remembers mine, and it is comforting as it is familiar.

I pull back and open my eyes. He places another soft kiss on my lips, closed mouth. He does it again. He surprises me with the intimacy of it. We fall into another deep kiss and it feels like my body is coming back online.

Fricken Rakeem.

I pull back, breathless.

"My god," I pant, eyes wide, reeling from the sudden need I have for him. It was like I was on autopilot before, going through the motions.

Rakeem is here. Key is here. That's only ever good and soothing and many times, so delicious.

He smiles, shakes his head apologetically, and his gaze drops again. Oh, no, no. I'm awake now. I tilt his chin to look at me again, not giving him a chance to get in his head.

"Sorry," he says; for what, I have no idea, but some people always be apologizing for nothing and he's one of them.

"Hey, hey," I murmur, pressing my body flat against his.

Rakeem meets my gaze again and strokes my cheek with his thumb. I lick my lips and it grabs his attention.

"Stay with me?" I ask in a whisper. His gaze intensifies on my face, which is exactly what I want. I rub up on him with my body. "Please?'

I can see the hunger in his eyes but still he looks uncertain.

I grasp his shirt and catch his eyes, willing him to see everything in me.

"Rakeem," I murmur.

I hear the hum of acknowledgment in his throat as he looks at me. God, his eyes are so...kind and afraid. I push my hips into his.

"I need you," I beg.

Those are the magic words.

Something in his gaze shifts hard and I feel a thrill between my legs. He seizes my mouth, with an uncharacteristic level of urgency and passion that leaves me breathless and moaning. He cups my face and takes ownership of my lips, my tongue, everything, and it's not until my ass bumps against the recessed counter of the island that I even realize he was driving me back.

Holy crap, I've never seen him like this, ever. I break away to catch my breath, and look at him. Just the look in his eyes has me panting and wet.

He pulls at my pajama pants with a rough jerk and sends them down to puddle around my ankles. I'm not wearing anything underneath. Take a guess on how long it's been since I've done laundry.

Wrong. Longer.

Rakeem sucks in a breath and runs his fingertips over my fuzz and along my slit. I squirm and shiver. I haven't waxed in months and it's all growing back, but Key doesn't give a shit. I could come to him looking like a damn Sasquatch and hustler wouldn't notice.

"Vee," he groans. He runs a thumb over a hardened nipple over my shirt. I push my chest forward, suddenly impatient. Now. I need to feel something good right now.

"Enough, fuck me," I growl, raking his back with my nails, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth.

The expression of shock on his face is deeply satisfying when I serve him the same level of intensity he's showing me. When it transforms to an almost terrifying, carnal desire, though, it has my goddamn cunt drooling and my heart pounding a million miles an hour.

He lifts me up, drops my ass on the counter, and pulls my tee shirt up and off, his mouth on my tits in a flash. Tragically, he knows my body better than anyone. He gives my nipple a quick hard suck and immediately draws out a cry and I reflexively spread my legs.

He rolls my other nipple between his fingers making me whine and squirm on the counter. It makes a mess.

I roll my head back and moan, my messy bun flopping back. He smooths his calloused hands down my body. I feel his fingers trace my labia and I spread my legs a little to give him what he wants. His fingers dip hot flesh within, sweeping down the length of my pussy, collecting my arousal. He brings his hand to his mouth to taste me.

He likes it.

"All weekend?" he asks as he unbuttons his jeans, his voice rough with desire. I look up to see his eyes are boring into me, devouring me already. He brushes his lips against mine and I push my hips forward. His pants join mine on the floor and he grips his cock. He gives it a stroke, his foreskin sliding over the head of his prick and back. I lick my lips. My clit throbs.

Three years? Four years? How long has it been since we've been together like this?

"All weekend," I reply, leaning back on my palms and parting my thighs wide to offer him a good look at my pussy. It glistens and drips for him. He blows out a breath, his eyes wild.

He steps between my legs, pulls my hips forward to the edge, and impales my thirsty cunt hard and fast. My loud cry reverberates around the house.

I wrap my legs around his waist, throw my head back and close my eyes as he plunders my cunt with urgency. We immediately fall into rhythm.

I cover his face and throat with kisses, suckling at his throat and he pants. I'm not going to last long, which is crazy because it always takes me forever to cum.

I imagine him and Audra, Audra with her long brown legs and round ass. Audra and her tiny waist and heavy breasts. Audra with her thick long fro, soft, and fluffy and smelling good. I wonder how she tastes. How he fucked her. Was it like this? The thought alone makes me whimper.

I moan as Rakeem thumbs my clit, his mouth hot on my tits. I picture him bending Audra over, eating her from behind. What does her pussy look like? How does she like to be licked? Did Rakeem ever eat her ass? Fuck it?

His orgasm takes him by surprise, rushing into him hard and he seizes up, clutching me to him and paints the inside of my pussy with his cum. I cum only seconds behind him, grinding against his hand and oversensitive cock. He shudders and grits his teeth.

I press my lips together to trap the loud whine as the orgasm crashes into me. I gasp sharply.

"Reckless," I pant, my nipples still tingling from cumming.

"I'm sorry," he pants, resting his forehead on my shoulder. He isn't sorry about cumming in me. He's sorry for how quick he spent himself. I don't care though, I was pent up enough that it didn't matter.

I capture his mouth and we share a kiss. It's deep and soft and intimate and I feel myself melt.

Snap the fuck out of this, Veronica. This is just rebounding, hold the line.

"I came thinking about Audra," I inform him when we come up for breath. He smirks and slips a couple of fingers in me and curls them. I rock on his hand which is slick with both of our cum.

"Tell me more," he murmurs.

"I imagined you licked her pussy from behind. I imagined you fucking me while I ate her," I moan on his fingers.

He chuckles in my ear and kisses down my neck. The fine layer of curly scruff on his chin tickles.

"Did you think of me, Key?" I fuck his hand and his thumb is back to swirling around my clit. "Did you think of me when you plowed her?"

"You like that? When I think of you while fucking other women?" He's pumping me hard with his skilled fingers.

"When you fuck women do you think of how you're going to describe them to me?" I gasp, breathing hard.

He nuzzles behind my ear, "Every single time."

That's a lie, but it's one that makes me cum on his fingers. I start laughing from the absurdity and from how good it feels as I ride the waves. When I open my eyes he's got a half smile and is searching my face. I touch my tongue to my teeth playfully.

"Yum," I beam.

Once more he kisses me, slipping his tongue past mine. I'm not sure how long we stay there with me on the kitchen counter, his cum dribbling out of me down the side of the cabinet, but however long it is, I'm drowning in it. I'm wrapped around him tight and he's kissing me so deeply my toes curl. He eventually pulls away.

I blink the haze out of my eyes and remember myself.

This isn't us.

"What was that?" I tease.

He searches my eyes and I see so much pain reflecting back at me. His hand tangles in my hair that has mostly fallen out of the scrunchie and he wraps his arms around me.

"Something we both needed," he murmurs, and I hear the hitch in his voice. I hate seeing him like this.

I must look just as fucked up, I realize with a start. My eyes water. Something in my chest releases and all the bravado I didn't realize I was carrying falls away.

"I'm so sorry, papi," I murmur.

His eyes are red and wet, and I know damn well my face is streaked with tears. He wipes my cheek and kisses them away.

"Thank you," I whisper.

He smiles and sighs.

Fuck. We are fucked up. "Damn, Key, this is bad. It's never been both of us at the same time."

"I know," he agrees. "I can't tell if it's better or worse this way."

I laugh, "Maybe we should bring in a third person to moderate."

His hand is on my breast, stroking across my nipple and his cock is rising again like Lazarus. I can feel the head brush along my pussy lips and the insane thought of being filled with his cum all weekend has me shook. He kisses me again, but we need to stop with this before it tries to be something it isn't.

I pull back from his mouth, and push his chest, breathing hard.

He must have the same thought because he abruptly shifts his hips and steps back, eyes on mine, dark with the desire he's trying to blink away. He scrubs his hands over his face.

"Maybe," he chuckles.

"Huh?" I blink rapidly, clearing my throat several times.

"As in maybe we do need an objective third party," he teases. I shake my head of the fog and laugh, too.

He squeezes my thigh, pulls up his pants, and looks around the kitchen while he buttons them.

"Alright, ma, go take a shower and relax, I'll reheat some food for us," Rakeem kisses my forehead, and I nod and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

He helps me down. I look up at him and his sad eyes. He brings his hand to my face, and I find myself a little lost in his eyes, in the deep, rich pools of brown. His curtain of long dark curly lashes always make it look like he's wearing eyeliner. I press my lips together. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip and I shiver.

"We might need to call Janessa, I'm getting lost in your eyes," I announce and he busts up laughing and kisses the top of my head. I smile in relief, the tension broken for the moment.

It's getting too intense.

"That would most definitely change up the mood," he grins big and bright and I throw my arms up in success.

"EYYY, MIRA PERO QUE RICO E'ESE SONRISA!" I cheer and clap at his first genuine smile of the evening. "Mark it, write it down. Vivi one, Key zerooooooo."