The Pleasure Trap Read Free

fifty-inch television.
    â€œHey, lover.”
    Graham pressed the phone closer to his ear at the sound of the soft, sexy, and feminine voice. His heart pounded. “Excuse me?” he asked, grimacing at the way his voice cracked.
    â€œWho is this?” she asked with wariness.
    He pressed the back of his head onto the pillow and looked up at the white ceiling. “This is Graham . . . Tylar’s son,” he said, being sure to deepen his voice.
    â€œOh . . . oh shit. I’m sorry,” she said. “I called your dad’s cell, and when he didn’t answer all morning I thought he was off from work.”
    And another one bites the dust.
    â€œHe’s at work. You wanna leave a message?” Graham asked more out of politeness than anything. He already knew she was on the shut-out list—whether she knew it or not. He picked up the remote and started turning up the volume on his movie.
    â€œTell him Yvonne called.”
    Click.
    He dropped the phone back on the bed and laughed. Daddy running through ’em like tissue.
    As far as Graham could tell, all of the women were fine with being in rotation with one another because he had yet to see one just drop by and run into another. Everybody played her position. And well.
    It was obvious the last thing his father wanted was to be remarried, and Graham couldn’t blame him. The only female Graham came even close to banging was a white girl he went to school with who gave out blow jobs as if they were lollipops. Cheap lollipops.
    Still, he hadn’t given up his virgin card, and ear hustling his father straight slaying women left and right just a few feet from where he slept wasn’t helping.
    â€œStop, Nikko. Stop!”
    Graham rolled off the bed and looked out the window that overlooked the driveways of their apartment building and the one next door. A little brown boy of about ten was wetting a slender teenage girl with a hose. Graham’s eyes widened at the sight of the bra covering her small but plump breasts being exposed by the moisture.
    â€œYour ass is mine,” she screamed before she fought through the stream of water to snatch the hose from him.
    Graham looked on as she dropped the hose and chased the little boy inside the building. He felt disappointment when she was gone from his view. So did his dick. He looked down at it pressing against the front of his oversized basketball shorts.
    Moving away from the window, he rubbed the length of his semi-hardness. “I need to jack this off,” he muttered, pulling down on it.
    Instead of heading for the shower to use the water and soap to help him nut off some of his horniness, Graham fell across the bed and resumed flipping through the cable channels for the next hour until his urges faded and he felt sleep claim him. He didn’t fight it.
    I always have somebody to fuck . . . in my dreams .
    When Graham awakened with a stretch of his long limbs, the room was dark save for the light from the television. The room was cold from the air conditioner running on high even though the temperature had dropped outside with the disappearance of the sun. Shivering, he climbed off the bed and turned the window unit on low.
    The cable box said it was after ten.
    Daddy shoulda been home.
    Graham frowned as he opened the bedroom door to check if his father was sleeping on the couch.
    â€œYou love this good pussy, don’t you, Ty?”
    Graham froze at the sound of the whispered words floating toward him from the living room. One of the lamps on an end table dimly lighted the room, just enough to cast a glow on the two bodies on the couch. One straddling the other. One curvier than the other. One moving against the other.
    â€œGive me that good pussy,” he heard his father whisper back.
    Graham stood transfixed in the hall just inches from the entrance to the living room, looking on as some woman he couldn’t place gripped the back of the couch as she glided her