They Call Me Mr. G-Spot

By Teresa D. Patterson

Troy Anderson is the self-proclaimed Mr. G-Spot because he knows how to make a woman reach the ultimate mind-blowing orgasm. Since his divorce, he's been in-between the sheets with woman after woman, never really forming a connection with any of them. Because of his ability to make them "rain" in the bedroom, some of these women shower him with expensive gifts ranging from jewelry, to fancy clothes, to expensive automobiles. Along with these gifts comes a load of problems.
Troy is reacquainted with his high school sweetheart and first love, Nicole Wilkerson. Even though she is engaged to be married, Nicole is reeled in when she decides to sleep with him one last time before she ties the knot. That "one time" turns into a full-fledged affair. Neither of them knows how to deal with the past emotions that resurface. After sleeping with Troy again, Nicole questions whether she's really ready to get married or if she's just settling. Troy begins to reflect back on the women he's used and wonders if any of them deserved to be treated so callously.
What will happen when Mr. G-Spot encounters a woman scorned, and will he be able to escape the wrath of a vengeful husband?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa D. Patterson
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301556137

Teresa D. Patterson

Teresa D. Patterson came onto the literary scene with her debut novel, Project Queen, which was published by a small independent publishing company. It wasn't long before she realized having complete control over the creation and distribution of her books suited her better, compelling her to publish her own future works.Her first independent published novel was Ex-boyfriend. She went on to write several novels in multiple genres, which includes contemporary fiction, erotica, inspirational fiction, juvenile fiction, romance, and urban lit. She has written twenty-eight novels and co-authored one.

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They Call Me Mr. G-Spot

Teresa D. Patterson

Copyright 2013 by Teresa D. Patterson

Published by Edit Again Publications at Smashwords

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical or photocopying or stored in a retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be included in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

It surprised me to run into my ex-girlfriend, Nicole Wilkerson, at China Star in the Sweetbay Supermarket Shopping center. Even though I swore I’d never mess with again after I found out my brother had hit that, I couldn’t resist the urge to teach an old ho a new trick. I figured, I might as well do it, since she instigated the encounter and pretty much threw the poon at me—and I wasn’t about to turn down free pussy.

I placed my order and sat down at one of the booths, sipping a Sprite as I waited. To occupy myself and pass the time, I looked up on the wall at the pictures of the different combos they sold.

Maybe ordering fried chicken wings wasn't such a great choice, I thought.

My parents served fried chicken at their restaurant every day, and I didn't even have to pay for it. I sighed. I didn’t want to cancel the order, so I’d deal with it.

The bell above the door clinked, and I glanced up. At first, I didn't recognize the woman who entered and sauntered up to the counter, even though the walk seemed familiar. The sway of her hips reminded me of my ex-girlfriend, Nicole, but that couldn’t be her. She was too damn big.

I’ll take two of the #L1s and one of the #L9s, she told the Asian lady.

The voice gave her away—it definitely belonged to Nicole. When she placed her purse on the counter and turned to the side to retrieve her wallet, it confirmed her identity. Nicole Wilkerson.

I let my eyes travel over her from head to toe then I shook my head in disbelief. I knew everybody couldn’t maintain the same shape they had in high school, but damn. Nicole could at least attempt to keep herself up. Run, jog, walk real fast or something. She damn sure didn't need to be ordering anything greasy and fried, either.

She had the nerve to squeeze her busted body into an Apple Bottom outfit. Her love handles showed, and she kept pulling her shirt down to cover them.

I bet couldn’t nobody tell her she wasn’t still fine though. Most black women thought being thicker than a Snicker was the in thing. They embraced such foolishness by saying they had more to love, in order to feel good about themselves. In my opinion, their fat asses were too lazy to do anything about getting in shape.

Nicole wore these outrageously long acrylic nails, customary for ‘hood rats. She'd overdone spraying oil sheen on the curly weave she sported. Her fake hair resembled an oily mop. Her toes had a French manicure, but I’ll be damned if she didn't have ashy ankles and crusty heels. I thought they took care of all of that at the Asian nail salon. For the price the clients paid, the technicians should at least slap some lotion on their feet.

I stared at the Nicole standing before me, not believing she was the same person I’d been in love with back in the twelfth grade.

At seventeen, at first I wanted to get the pussy. Fortunate for me, Nicole wanted the same thing as I did so that popped off quickly. Like most pussy-whipped virgins, I ended up falling for my first love. I would probably still be sprung if she hadn't been so easy. When I found out about her and my brother, that was a deal breaker. I couldn’t stay with a woman that fucked my brother. I’d never be able to trust her.

Seeing Nicole again brought back memories. She had been the first girl I ever slept with, and the first to ever perform oral sex on me. She'd also been freaky as hell back then and sexy, too.

Twenty years had passed, and from the looks of it, she hadn’t aged well. Apparently, she’d been living a hard life because it showed. Back in the day, she’d been finer than Janet Jackson. As a matter of fact, she used to resemble Janet, cute dimples and all. She’d been on the Varsity cheerleading team, had a bubbly personality, and an aura about her that drew people in. All the boys wanted to get with her because she was hot...and she put out.

Still in disbelief that I was actually looking at my ex-girlfriend, Nicky, I shook my head at the basic woman she’d let herself become. She’d been a boss bitch during our high school days. Goes to show what life can do to you. If you’re not careful—it can kick your ass.

I began to reminisce on how Nicole and I had ended up knocking boots. One day, I’d lucked up and received an after-school detention with her. Since neither of us had a vehicle, we ended up at the bus stop together waiting on the number sixteen bus route.

I thought Nicole would ignore me because I wasn’t an athlete, so I pretended to be busy doing my Social Studies assignment. She took a seat next to me on the bench and threw me a seductive smile, causing me to blink in surprise. I glanced over my shoulder. Seeing no one there, I drew the conclusion she’d been flirting with me.

Hi, I said.

Hey, Troy. How did you manage to end up in detention? she asked. You don’t ever get into trouble. What did you do? she asked.

Stunned that she actually knew me, I had to take a few deep breaths before I could answer. My heart thumped so loudly in my chest, I feared she could hear it.

I was talking in Mr. Valdez’s class. You know how he is. He writes the student’s name on the board and if they get three checks by it, they receive a detention. I got three checks.

Why didn’t you shut up after the first two checks?

I tried to. But, Quing Ly kept asking me questions about the assignment. I was trying to help. Only thing is, I ended up in detention and Quing Ly didn’t, I said.

She laughed. I guess you won’t be helping nobody else.

This is my first detention, too. I made it all the way to the 12th grade without ever getting a detention, and Mr. Valdez had to mess up my perfect record. Why did you get one? I asked.

She looked at me and smirked. You really wanna know?

Uh…I guess so.

I was late to my Algebra class ‘cause me and TrayVon Reed was fuckin’ behind the bleachers. My mouth dropped open when she revealed that, and she laughed again. Why are you so shocked? You fuck, don’t you?

Well… Still a virgin, I had only kissed a few girls, but never gone all the way. I didn't want to tell her that though. I don’t have a girlfriend, I blurted out.

Man, you are so square. You don’t need to have a girlfriend to fuck. Everybody does it with everybody. She regarded me with a keenness that made me squirm, and I began tapping my foot on the concrete. You ain’t never got none, have you? she asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. No, I admitted.

You’re in the 12th grade and you ain’t never got no pussy? That’s a damn shame. Her eyes traveled over me from head to toe. If you didn’t wear those big ass glasses and got a haircut, you’d be handsome. Your body ain’t half bad either. What you waiting on? Are you saving yourself for marriage?

"Not really. I haven’t met anyone who wanted to do… that with me."

You probably ain’t never had ya dick sucked either, huh?

A deep blush crept into my face. I couldn’t even answer. I had never heard a girl talk so vulgar, especially about sex. I had no idea pretty, popular Nicole had such a filthy mouth. I felt a sense of relief when the city bus braked to a stop in front of us. When I took a step to board the bus, Nicole grabbed my arm, halting me.

Her smile mischievous, she instructed, Come sit in the back seat with me.

Even though my mind screamed trouble, Nicole had a certain charm I couldn’t resist. I slinked behind her like an obedient puppy.

As soon as I sat down in the last seat by the window, Nicole unzipped my pants and ducked down.

You might want to block what I'm doing by placing your backpack in your lap, she suggested. It wasn’t long before I could no longer say I’d never had my dick sucked.

When I felt her lips on me, I almost screamed like a bitch. That shit was inexplicable. Her warm mouth engulfed my dick, causing it to throb as it grew longer and harder. The sensations made me feel like I'd gone to heaven.

Nicole moved her tongue around in circles while giving my dick deep sucks. She bobbed up and down on it until I exploded in her mouth. I won’t even lie; it didn’t take long at all. Nasty Nicky sucked me dry and swallowed every drop. By the time the bus made it to the main bus depot to transfer buses, she’d gotten me hard and sucked me off two more times. Tricky Nicky had me sprung.

Boy, I gotta have this dick, she told me before we parted ways. You better call me so we can make it happen.

We exchanged phone numbers before the groaning, hissing bus halted at her stop, and she sashayed off. She touched the palm of her hand lightly with her lips, and then blew across her hand toward me through the bus’s window. I felt my face stretch into a big, silly grin. I gave a slight wave and she wiggled her fingers back at me before the bus screeched away toward the next stop.

Nicole didn’t have to worry about me not calling. If having sex was anything like oral, I’d be ready and willing. As soon as I got home, I ignored all the homework I had to complete, grabbed the phone and dialed the number she’d scribbled on the back of my English Honors folder.

I ran the palms of my hands down the sides of my jeans as I waited for Nicky to answer. After the third ring I feared she wouldn’t pick up until I heard a breathless, Hello?

H- hello? Nicky?

Yeah, it’s me, boy. Who else did you think it would be? she teased.

You– do you really want to—you know? I let the words hang in the air.

Are you trying to ask me if I really want to have sex with you? If I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have told you to call me. So, what’s up? You turning chicken?

No.. I ..well. I want to know when, I blurted into the phone. I didn’t want to sound desperate, but I had gotten rock hard thinking about what she’d done to me on the bus. My swollen lower extremities throbbed, craving more action.

Tonight, she said. You can come over after eleven because my mama works from eleven to seven. You better not stand me up, and you better be here on time, she said. The line disconnected before I could say anything further.

Super excited, I could barely contain myself. I rushed through my homework, not bothering to double-check my assignments as I’d normally do. You best believe, I hopped on my little brother’s bike, and pedaled as fast as

Reviews for They Call Me Mr. G-Spot

[Brandi Chambray Artez · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Couldn't get past the first 2 pages. All that fatphobia was unnecessary and ruined the book. And the author isn't even attractive themselves.