Maneater by Mary B. Morrison

mouth wide open, as she firmly gripped two thick dicks, those of the guys to her left and her right.
    Zoomed again to see if my girl was on drugs. Couldn’t tell with her eyes closed.
    My pussy twitched. Lust consumed me as I wondered what her sexcapade had felt like. The next pic, girl gone. Replacement, a guy. His dick in Seven’s pussy.
    â€œI thought the guy on the bottom was in her pus…aw, hell no.” Maybe the man on the bottom wasn’t inside her ass but had his dick stuck between her butt cheeks.
    WARNING . LOW BATTERY . POWERING OFF .
    â€œNo,” I yelled. There were 298 more pictures in the gallery.
    Digging in Seven’s laptop bag, I grumbled, “Oh, my god.” No power cord. Did she always carry a gun?
    Wished we had identical computers instead of matching cars. Both parked in my garage. My fingerprints on her steering wheel, her laptop, and her gun. What if she’d… Zena, don’t be stupid.
    I placed the gun and her laptop inside her bag on the floor next to my desk, looked at the cashier’s check on my desk. Shaking my head, I exhaled, “Whew.” Then I got in the shower.
    Loyalty didn’t have a price. I was glad and pissed she’d left her laptop with me. Had Maverick seen those XXX photos? “Of course not,” I said aloud. I had to buy a power cord. Had to see the other pictures. Maybe the gun was a sex prop. I aimed the showerhead directly at my pussy, and my thoughts traveled to sexual nooks and crannies, making me cum.
    â€œFocus, Zena, focus…okay, I’m good,” I told myself, wiping my eyebrows, swiping my eyelids. Patting my pussy with a towel, I went to my desk, gazed at the check.
    The fifty thousand from Maverick was tempting, as was the hundred grand a month, until I’d read that ignoramus’s contract. Enough to pay off my mortgages and business loan in two years, but I might work my ass off and end up getting paid nothing. I understood why Deuce was pissed.
    Why was it necessary for men to undermine women in business and in bed? Did Maverick honestly think I’d entertain letting him stick his dick in me, like Zena Belvedere could be bought?
    Fuck Maverick and his money .
    Now Danté, that was who my pussy was so wet for. I fantasized about having him in my bed, his smooth, sexy head between my legs. His dick throbbing in my pussy as he fucked the shit out of me. If I had a hole in my head, I’d let that man stick his dick in it. “Indeed I would.” I danced from my bed to my closet, preparing for our date. A short strawberry red designer dress with a scoop in the back would grant him access to my radiant skin—back, arms, thighs, and legs.
    Dialing Maverick’s number while staring at the shoes in my closet, I clenched my teeth, despising him. Scumbag .
    â€œHey, Zena. For a moment I thought I had bad breath or something. You should’ve slept in my bed last night, not yours,” he said. “You didn’t have to leave in the rain.”
    â€œHave you heard from Seven?” I asked.
    â€œNah, have you? You’re the one with her car and her computer.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have asked you if I had. Don’t seem like you care much about her or me,” I said flatly.
    Maverick yelled, “Don’t tell me how the fuck I feel about my mother, you got that! Stay the fuck out of this, punk!”
    â€œExcuse me? Are you okay? I didn’t say anything about your deceased mother.” I was capable of being a bitch when necessary, but not toward the dead.
    Maverick is crazy! Oh, God, I hope Seven is all right.
    â€œI meant to say fiancée, not mother. I’ll have Danté pick up the computer, the signed contract, and the car. Bitch, you stay the fuck away from me before you get hurt. It’s all your fault Seven didn’t tell me where she’s at. Your ass knows where she is.”
    Maverick was truly insane. Not my problem. Karma was his