M. H. Randle - Too much of everything is never enough

TOO MUCH OF EVERYTHING IS NEVER ENOUGH

Copyright 2020 by M. H. Randle

ISBN: 978-1-68046-861-8

Published by Satin Romance

An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC

White Bear Lake, MN 55110

www.satinromance.com

Smashwords Edition

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

Published in the United States of America.

Cover Design by Ashley Redbird Designs

Arent two dicks always better than one? What woman would not want that big black nine-and-a-half-inch dick with that perfect curve angled to hit that hot spot every time? The one where he has to give his big pretty piece of chocolate to you little by little, until he gets that pussy just right to accept all of it. Then once he has it just right, he places his hands on your ass and uses his thumbs to spread your ass cheeks, opening that pussy up to take all of the sweetest chocolate bar your pussy could ever taste. Yes, taste! The shit is so good it has all of your senses going into overdrive.

Then we have that other dick that fits you perfectly. It is just the right size to slide right into the pussy without much effort. The perfect size dick is the one that you feel like you can ride all day long as he wraps his big strong hands around your waist and lets you ride and take full control of just how and when it hits your hot spot. That perfect dick is built for all-nighters because it keeps the pussy dripping wet, and your pussy never gets tired of being catered to.

Seethat is where my dilemma comes into play. I have them both, and I would not trade either of them for anything in the world. I have Malik, who is, as my mama used to say, Fine as wine. He is six foot five with some of the waviest hair thats the color of coal. His body is perfectly chiseled, from his massive chest to his rippled stomach and the roundest, tightest ass you could ever imagine. My babys body would make you want to cover that statue of Adonis up. Oh, did I mention that he is the color of caramel and tastes just as sweet?

Malik just started his own sports agency in the Chicago area, so his job actually has him traveling a lot. So I guess the biggest problem there is that I cant just pick up the phone and say, Hey, lets hang out, because who knows where he might be? Now, dont get me wrong; he is always asking me to go on these trips with him. But since I own and operate one of the hottest hair salons in The Rock, I cant just up and leave my clients and shop at the drop of a hat.

Then I have Derek who is the most caring, sensitive man you could ever hope to have. Derek is a police detective here in The Rock, but even with his crazy schedule, he always makes time for me. He is a little shorter than Malik, standing at six foot even. His skin is the color of coffee that has just the right amount of cream in it. He has the most amazing hazel-green eyes. The first time I met him, he came into the shop to get a manicure, and when I looked up and saw him walk in the door, he looked up at me and flashed some of the whitest teeth, those gorgeous eyes, and a pair of dimples so deep you could swim in them. I had to check myself because old boy had me wet as hell without even saying a word.

It is about 5:00 p.m. and I am just finishing up with my last client when I get a text from my girl Kiki. I finish adding the last touches to my client and send her up front to take care of her bill with the receptionist. When I check my phone, I see that my girl has texted me 811, which is part of our code. The sense of urgency goes from 611 up to 911. We also use 411 if there is some really important information that one of us needs to know as soon as possible. So the fact that she is texting 811 means it is an emergency and her life is in jeopardy. The only thing is most things are an emergency with Kiki. I love my girl like Reeses loves its pieces, but she can be a little overly dramatic. Since I am not sure if it is truly urgent or not, I figure it will be best for me to go back into my office so I can have some privacy.

I sit down at my desk and press the speed dial button programmed for her cell. Hey, Kiki, I just finished with my last client and I got your text. Is everything OK?

After taking a breath so deep I think her ass might pass out, she finally says, Girl, I was just driving past Tonys and I saw his ex-wifes car parked in the driveway.

What? When did this happen and where are you now?

I just passed there when I texted you, and I was so pissed. I was only able to drive up to the corner and park.

Well, you need to turn your ass around and go back to his house right now. If you wait and ask him about it later, he will lie his ass off like he always does and tell you some bullshit like her car broke down or that its his boys car, it just looks like hers. You know how Tony isthat man lies just to lie.

Lisa, Im not like you. I dont know if I can just walk up to his door like the damn Avon lady, knowing I might find something I know I dont want to find. What if one of them comes to the door butt-ass naked? Then what do I say? Hey, I was just dropping by to see what was up?

So would you rather just wait it out and call him later? If you wait, this will be yet another time his trifling ass will be able to talk himself out of an obviously fucked-up situation. You know how your boy loves to put on those Oscar-winning performances where he plays the innocent man who is wrongly accused.

Kiki has always had this weakness for tired ass men and always seems willing to except all of the bullshit they like to dish out. I swear, sometimes it seems like the better they are at dishing it out, the more she sops that shit up like its biscuits and gravy. Now, you have to understand, I dont mean they are spitting some cold-ass game or anything. I mean these dudes are spitting nothing but garbage, and she just loves it. I think because of her rocky childhood she has always had a warped view on what a man is and what true love is. When we were in college, I saw her do some special things to get what she wanted from a man if she cared enough for him no matter who got hurt all in her search for happiness.

Kiki, you are wasting time. Turn around and go back there now. You have your Bluetooth on, right?

Yeahwhy?

Because I will stay on the phone while you go back to his house and check that dirty dog you call yo man.

OK, but Lisa, I am scaredI know I am about to walk in on something more than I think I can handle. I dont think I can handle it if I get there and she is up in there chilling on all the shit I helped him pick out for his house. Acting like she is the lady of the house once again.