Tuesday, October 30, 2007
“Hello.” Thin lips parted to reveal yellowed dentures.
The poodle growled.
Sweat oozed from my pores.
The old man sniffed the air. “Oh, that’s quite an interesting smell. What is that? Tar, paint and… cake or something?” He tilted his head, sniffed again. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled that combination before.”
Schi moved into action. “Please exit the elevator. This is an emergency.”
“Oh, certainly.” The poodle growled again. “Hush up, Fluffy. I know this isn’t our floor but we have to concede to the emergency.”
Noticed the cane in his free hand.
Knocking against the compartment.
Swung it side to side as he left the elevator.
Stopped beside me.
“Oh my, do you have a bird?” Hands fished a handkerchief from his back pocket as the dark glasses stared at us.
I hated when I couldn’t see the eyes.
“No sir.” I avoided brushing against him; pushed Les into the elevator.
The old man sneezed three quick times. “Someone must have something with down in it. I only get like this around feathers. But,” head tilted toward the sky, “it’s too hot for down.” Glasses rotated back in our direction. “Why would you be wearing down in this hot weather?”
TMI which could mean FUBAR for us later.
Time to get the hell out of here.
“Have a great night, sir.” Schi pushed at the button; eyes went wide as Les groaned and shifted on the gurney.
Old school cocked his head; listened as the doors moved to close. I took a step forward;
prepared to slap a hand or stick out of the way if necessary.
It wasn’t. But we had a new problem: Les was waking up.
My shoulders were in knots; a headache pushed at my temples.
Les coughed, pulled at the restraints, lifted his head.
Once he figured out the deal, he’d yell out for help.
Goddammit, if one of us is gonna be tense, it’s gonna be you.
I leaned forward, grabbed a handful of hair, and spoke into his ear. “Slave, I’m ten times worse than your mistress ever was. I’ll slice off your dick and hand-fuck you up the ass with it if you so much as flex another muscle or make another sound. Try me.” I scraped his cheek with the shank for good measure. Drew blood, which I didn’t mean to do, but what was done, was done.
Les stilled but I wasn’t taking any chances at this point. I stuffed the blindfold into his mouth; pulled the sheet up higher to his cheeks.
The elevator finally reached the lobby. Schi pointed toward the front exit but I stopped her; motioned toward the rear. She didn’t challenge me, just shifted gears and moved like that growling poodle was nipping at her heels.
We encountered no one between the building and the van. We slid the gurney inside and I positioned myself alongside Les for the ride. Schi threw the crosses and strip inside, closed the door and pulled out onto the street.
Seven minutes twelve seconds.
Too damn close for comfort.
This last leg of the scenario was six minutes top. I watched the landscape change from pristine clean upscale to marginal and further down, seedy as hell. Too seedy if you asked me. But Barbie demanded the entire degradation process, so here we were. Close enough to a bad area to degrade but hopefully not rough enough to get him maimed or killed before the cavalry arrived.
Schi stopped beside a school playground, left the motor running and opened the rear doors.
The cool air roused Les. “W—where are we?”
“This is your stop, baby.”
I removed the sheet, stifled a laugh as I looked over his rear again, untied the hands. Making sure no traffic moved along the street, I slid the gurney half out the door. Schi tilted it; allowed Les to crumple into the wet grass. His legs were pulled from beneath him and straightened; gave him that drunk, splayed out effect for the hell of it.
We pulled up to the bank of pay phones at a service station three blocks over.
“This is 9-1-1. What is your emergency?” The voice was crisp and professional.
“There is a man exposing himself by the Harrison School playground. He’s got on a white Halloween costume but I can see his...his penis sticking out.” Schi’s voice was a half-octave higher than normal.
“We’ll have an officer check it out. What is your—”
Schi replaced the headset; pulled back onto the street.
Flashing lights met us in less than a minute.
I imagined Les’ degradation process was gonna be everything Barbie thought it would be.
Our job complete, we high-fived before Schi began a very, very bad imitation of I’m A Woman, W-O-M-A-N.
Schi pulled off the scrunchie; let the air flow through her hair as she drove home. Another job down, another bit of cash to collect. She rolled her shoulders, let some of the pent-up tension of the night release from her cells.
What was up with Mo?
She’d looked stressed as hell before the scenario but had been fine earlier. And the changing of the script: Don’t use the rear elevator then do use the rear exit.
One thing Schi knew about Mo was this: She never deviated from an uncompromised scenario plan. It was a rule damn near carved in stone.
But she had tonight for no apparent reason Schi could discern. They’d gotten in and out on time and completed the assignment without an obvious hitch.
Schi replayed Mo’s actions over in her head. They’d grown close over the few years they’d known each other; became real friends in every sense of the word. She felt they were close enough that Mo could talk about anything bothering her…but apparently that wasn’t the case.
Her mind travels were interrupted as she spotted the midnight blue Dodge Charger in her driveway.
The shit just got knee deep.
Flash irritation rose within her. This was not the time or the place. All she wanted was a hot bath in her Jacuzzi tub, a glass of Hennessey and sleep. Alone.
She pulled her Lexus beside the car; watched as the slim figure exited the Charger. Cut the engine as a finger tapped on the window, opened the door.
Arms spread wide. “Surprise!”
Surprise was right. Her home was her sanctuary; one that required a specific invitation for entry. This show up unannounced high school stuff didn’t work in her world. Still she hugged the body to her, knowing one touch was dangerous as hell but could think of no quick and plausible reason not to.
“Yes, this is definitely a surprise. What are you doing here?”
A smile parted the succulent lips. “I could lie and say I was in the neighborhood, but the truth is…I wanted to see you. No, I needed to see you. It’s been too long, lover.” Hands squeezed her waist.
“Yeah, it has been a minute.”
“Two months, ten days, fourteen hours and,” —a wristwatch was consulted— “six minutes and some seconds. Nobody’s counting, though.” The body snuggled closer; a leg inserted between Schi’s, trapping her against the car. “Surely you’ve missed me.”
Schi’s loins heated at the contact.
The Devil knows our weaknesses.
And in a moment of weakness, Schi had entertained Judy Molhon. A client. And Judge Greg Molhon’s ex-wife.
Mo would have a coronary after she shit bricks if she found out about this.
Schi let her hands tangle in the thick mane; knew she should walk away but the feel and smell of the soft skin held her captive as she remembered.
Ain’t no loving as good as taboo loving. Having a fling with Judy Molhon and her ex-
husband was as taboo as it got.
Maroon lips parted. “Show me.”
Schi licked the upper lip then the lower, hands cupping and squeezing the healthy breasts. Fingers found the nipples; pulled at the distended tissue through the shirt. Judy’s eyes glazed; pelvis tilted into Schi’s. Schi bunched the front of the slacks; pulled the material taut. Judy mewed.
Once I’ve hit it…I can always hit it.
Schi pushed the body from her, grasped the hand. “Follow me.”
Changing of plans could lead to good things, too.
Saw the streetlamps.
Saw Schi lightly snoring in the passenger seat, breath fogging up the windows.
My side hummed again. Looked down. Lights dancing on the phone. Annette.
Laid my head back; tried to understand.
I wasn’t superstitious. My mind refused what I could not understand. I existed on the real, the seen, the known.
But my butt throbbed like I’d had anal sex.
I moved my hands up my face to my hair. Stopped as fingers felt moisture. Pulled a strand to my nose. Sniffed.
Like that pooled on the plastic.
In Annette’s apartment.
That I hadn’t been too yet.
Heart thudded; arm hairs stood at attention.
The unknown had shown up at my doorstep.
I stared at the sidewalk, the streetlamp; craned my neck to see up the front of the
building. Everything appeared quiet as expected on a weekday night.
Get yourself together! You too old to believe in boogeymen. It was just a dream.
Yeah, I’m dreaming like heck but all I remembered were disjointed anatomical parts—eyes, the
feel of a hand—not the entire Technicolor episode. I needed total recall to understand what the hell was going on with me.
Was this some subconscious shit, some role-play I’d suppressed, playing out in dreamland? Or real intuition, genuine psychically vibrated intuition I needed to heed?
I felt my hair and smell the wet spot again. Naw, this was past subconscious. It was tangible, touchable…the real deal. As my grandmother used to say, “Somebody tryna tell you something, Baby.”
Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t but I couldn’t focus on that right now. Right now I had a job to do.
I shook the memory away and woke Schi.
“Is it time?” She yawned and stretched.
Schi wiggled around on the seat some more.
I was edgy. Fingers gripped, ungripped the steering wheel; stopped my hands from shaking. I felt her watching me.
“Hey, you all right?”
She needed an explanation, but what?
I already know what’s about to happen?
We’re about to get fucked?
Our shit is gonna be whack in less than ten minutes?
Which one was appropriate?
None of the above..or all.
I nodded. “I’m cool.”
“You sure? You look…strange.” She leaned forward, stared through the darkness at my silhouette.
I blinked a couple of time. “I’m cool.”
She nodded. “All right, then, let’s get the party started.” She held up her wrist. “Watch check”—I held up my wrist—“Start.”
We exited the van and moved quickly to the back. Schi pulled out the magnetized crosses and I lifted the two six foot magnetic strips from the van.
My hands trembled as I anchored them to the sides.
Heart triple-timed as we rolled out the gurney, sat our supply bag on top. We looked each other over before grabbing an end and moving forward.
Blood pounded in my ears as we rolled towards the rear entrance.
Mind spun; wondered how to cheat the future…if it was, indeed, possible at all.
Nothing beats a failure but a try.
I stopped, threw Schi off-balance.
“Something’s up with the rear elevator. We need to hit the front one.”
Schi looked around. “What do you see?”
A man with a poodle watching us like hawks.
“Nothing. Got a feeling.”
She took a deep breath before nodding. “Ok. Let’s do the front.”
We reversed our steps and headed to the front entrance.
I knew, or rather, I thought I knew what would happen but was it real or only a dream? Was I being a girl, using the female intuition thing? Wasting seconds for nothing?
You’ll know in a minute.
Schi stopped in front of the double doors, scanned the lobby. “Clear.”
We jogged inside, Schi wasting no time stabbing the elevator button.
Forty five seconds. My palms dripped.
The elevator crawled down to us. I kept watch on the hallway to my right which led to the rear elevator.
Heard off-pitch humming before I saw the back of a white head, a fluffy, wiggling dog under his arm, shuffling to the rear door to the outside.
One point for Mo!
I let the air out of my lungs. Our elevator dinged then opened.
Schi hustled inside and pushed at the button to Annette’s floor. I wish we’d had a bypass key;
didn’t want to risk stopping at any other floors but we didn’t.
One minute, nineteen seconds.
Flash sweat coated my upper lip; felt a rivulet run down my spine as the doors sprang open. The hallway was void of tenants. We stopped at Annette’s apartment. Schi turned the knob and we were inside.
The scene was as it had played out in my dream. Plastic sheeting covered the floor and bits of food were littered across it.
Les hung spread eagle, back to us, from hooks in the ceiling. Blind-folded.
Schi scrunched her nose as we side-stepped a puddle of what looked like lemon pudding.
Annette was fisting and stroking her strap-on; truly seemed to be as one with it. A smile moved onto Schi’s face as she watched. Good distraction.
One minute, thirty seconds.
I detached, moved down the dark hallway, hand on the shank in my pocket. The revised script said I had to check out the rooms; meet any enemy head on.
The first was a bathroom. Light reflected off the gleaming ceramic tiles; the mirror showed an empty shower.
The door to my left was open, a lamp burning on the night stand.
Queen-sized bed in the middle, sliding-door closet stood to right. The depth was shallow, probably two feet deep.
Not enough room for the huge shape I remembered to hide.
Scanned under the bed from the doorway. Clear.
Only one other room remained.
The door was closed.
I turned the knob.
Felt the temperature drop a few degrees.
Gripped the shank tighter.
Mo, do the damn thang or take your ass home!
Pushed open the door.
Mattress on the floor.
Camera in front.
Wooden stocks to the side.
Whips—some with metal tips—hung on the wall alongside fly swatters, rump slappers and
Table full of colorful dildos of varying sizes, strapons and lubricant.
Chains drifted down from the ceiling.
No where to hide.
I relaxed, went back to the original plan.
Turned on the lights in all the rooms as I retraced my steps.
Two minutes, thirty seconds.
Annette had turned Les, his over-endowed cock now pointed towards us, as she smeared her hand into the mess on his back and over her plastic cock.
Schi rocked her pelvis back and forward; licked her lips. Bitch-in-heat mode was in full swing.
I bumped her shoulder; gave her the evil eye. No refunds. Do or die.
Annette grabbed Les’ hair; pulled backward. “Slave, what do you want me to do?”
Les’ head lolled around. “F—fuck me p—please.”
Annette nodded at us, spread his ass, pushed the strap-on roughly inside.
Up close, saying Annette looked like Chyna wasn’t quite correct. More like a male body builder drag queen masquerading as Chyna. If she was indeed a woman—and did the “bumping clit thingie” with women—she got my vote for Butch of the Year.
Annette spewed out the derogatory words. Les pumped backward, hips rolling like a woman’s. Annette grasped his cock, stroked up and down the rigid length as she pistoned rapidly into his ass.
Chick has done this before.
In seconds, Les spurted come and hung limply.
Three minutes twenty seconds.
I looked down the lit hallway; needed certainty before we swung into action.
Two points for Mo!
We pulled on latex gloves and moved the gurney across the mess of food. I slipped, thought I’d go down; caught myself before I met food hell.
Les was semi-conscious. He breathed but didn’t move a muscle.
Schi wiped Les down with a towel eliciting a mild moan. I positioned the gurney to catch him when Annette released the chains.
But first, roofing composite.
I smeared it across the front of Les from neck to feet—avoiding the cock— with a wide paint brush. I repeated with the rear, avoiding the lower back and hip region.
Schi still seemed enamored with Les’ cock so I did the honors. Slit the bag down the middle and poured feathers over his head.
The Abominable Snowman with a bare face, cock and ass. We definitely wanted him to be recognizable.
Four minutes thirty-five seconds. Time was running out.
Les began fidgeting. Tried to stand. I lifted his legs.
“W—what’s g—going on?” Breath sour, voice thick.
Annette jumped right back into character. “Shut the fuck up, Slave.” She gave his bare ass a whack with the slapper. “Be bad, Slave. I want you to be bad.” She grabbed the strap-on. “I’ll stuff this shitty cock so far down your throat, you’ll be pissing plastic.
A hellova visual.
Les relaxed; allowed us to place him front down onto the gurney, head cushioned by a pillow.
Schi grabbed the red spray paint and a stencil.
Positioned the plastic over his ass and sprayed inside the rings.
Grabbed the black paint.
Wrote on his lower back.
We all smiled at the red bull’s eye painted on his ass and the words above it: FUCK ME HERE.
“His wife is wrong for that shit there.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s what she wanted.”
Time to go.
Threw a sheet over Les, tied his hands down and tucked in the edges.
Brushed off an errant feather, removed the blindfold and our “patient” was secure and ready for transport.
The hallway was quiet. We moved carefully toward the elevator. Our mission was three-quarters completed but we still couldn’t risk complications.
The elevator dinged and the doors swung open.
Old school stood in front of me.
Wearing dark glasses.
Dog under his arm.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
I scanned the list a final time. Dressed as paramedics—the easiest way to get Les out of the building without any interference—we sat in our rental van, soon to be pseudo-ambulance, outside Annette’s building. Waiting. The plan as we saw it, mellow from the coke and draped under a sheet, no one would be the wiser.
Les was taking his time. But he was a man and they would stick to their routines. He hadn’t missed a reaming out date previously so I was betting he wouldn’t tonight either.
Schi yawned, shook her head.
I gave her the look. Heffa hadn’t come back right after lunch like she’d promised. She’d managed to ease to the office just in time for a final run-through before picking up the van.
“If lunch time screwing makes you too tired to work, you need to do like Nancy Reagan suggested and ‘just say no,’ Miss Act- Like-She-Don’t-Know-How-Long-Lunch-Is.”
I was met with an eye-roll to rival any sistah’s. “I am not tired from get some at lunch. And for your information,”—body shifted in the seat, picked at imaginary lint—“I got held up in traffic. That’s why I was late.”
The requisite you-think-I’m-retarded-don’t-you eye-roll was flashed. “Ahem.”
I knew Schi well. Hell, we knew each other well. Didn’t want to call her an outright lie but according to sistah girl’s body language, there was some stretching the facts going on. The bigger question was why?
Schi turned, looked out the window then looked back at me. Sighed. “Look. We’ve been working our tails off for the past few months so I’m on the verge of exhaustion. When we finish with Bill Brownings, I think we ought to take a vacation.”
Vacation? Funny. No vacations for me in four years. No fun in solo vacations and my last with Schi may as well have been alone. She’d definitely left her “mark” on the unsuspecting men at the resort. We should have gone to Hedonism because if there was a Wall of Shame, she’d have been the top photo. Chick was out of control! I did the friend thing; forced her into sex rehab when we returned. What a joke. She was screwing the “moderator” in less than a week!
“We?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes, we.” Schi pursed her lips. “What? You think I’ll leave you again or something?” She waved the air. “You know I’ve slowed down considerably since that time. I was just working out my frustrations back then.”
“I’ll bet.” Now and then, no difference I could see.
“It’s true. Now, I choose carefully…then wear their asses out in bed.”
We giggled. Then a blue Porsche caught my eye. I snapped my fingers. “Time to work.”
Les Hatcher. Think nondescript, dork, nerd. If anyone had told me he owned a leading software company, I’d have called them a lie. Pasty color, tight Duckhead’s buckled high over his gut, maypops on his feet and hair needed a trim bad. Add the Porche and he had the midlife-crisis-need-a-sports-car-to-get-some-pussy look down pat.
Les set then reset the car alarm three times before heading into the building.
OCD? Or just careful?
His silhouette passed beneath the streetlight, dampening my enthusiasm for tonight’s activities. Seeing all that gloriousness—naked—would be hard on the eyes. But like they say: You’ve got to take the good with the bad sometimes. This was definitely a bad sometimes.
My cell phone was ready. Annette would buzz me when Les was relaxed, pliable and totally unaware of the humiliation awaiting him. I smiled.
Let the sploshing begin!
The ringing phone jolted us awake. I glanced down. Annette.
“It’s time?” Schi asked around a yawn.
We stretched a moment before swinging into action. There was a five minute window to get in and get out with another three minute leeway for unforeseen circumstances. Eight minutes, at worse, and not one minute more. Police response time was ten minutes average in this neighborhood. No need to tango with the city cowboys or let Lester’s high lessen before we completed our mission.
“Watch check.” We held out twin timepieces—“Start,”—hit the stopwatch button.
No words as we exited. Schi threw open the back doors, removed two red magnetic crosses while I removed two six foot red magnetized strips.
The van was transformed, allowed the near-sighted and unsuspecting to think it was an ambulance. A gurney was rolled out, our bag of supplies placed on top.
Fifteen seconds. Adrenaline swished through my veins.
We did a quick appearance check then grabbed the gurney, moved towards the front of the building.
Schi had done the recon. She’d scoped the building out religiously, knew the exits, the best ways to get in and out on time. Her assessment: the elevator to the rear was the quickest and quietest for our business.
I looked up the tall front of the building, hoping the nosy were asleep and the insomniacs were watching David Letterman. Schi scanned the lobby before we entered. Empty. So far, so good.
Forty seconds. Sweat on my palms.
The elevator crawled down to us. I tensed as the ONE lit up; prepared to rush inside as it dinged. Doors slid open.
An older gentleman with a dog stood inside.
“My goodness.” Rheumy eyes magnified behind thick lenses vacillated between Schi, myself and the gurney, drinking in everything. “Someone is sick?”
Fifty seconds. Need to get old school out of the way.
“Yes. Could you exit the elevator please?” Schi used her professional voice.
The gentleman wasted precious seconds staring then scooped up the Poodle and moved past us, eyes boring into us, memorizing us for future conversations.
We pushed inside the elevator, Schi stabbing the correct floor button. I gave the man a slight smile; hoped he would turn away, focus on his own business. Let the air out of my lungs as the doors moved to close.
A hand was stuck inside.
Doors sprang wide again.
Old school didn’t take the hint. Patted the dog’s head, sucked on dentures before he spoke. “Ah…could you tell me where the emergency is?”
Curiosity killed the cat. Don’t join the party.
“Did you call 9-1-1?” Schi was edgy now; heard it in her superprofessional tone.
“No.” The head trembled, eyes darted between us.
“Then be thankful it’s not you. Good evening. Please allow the doors to close.” Schi stabbed the buttons again, shifted forward, blocked the entry, dared the man to continue.
The man stepped backward, eyes still soaking in everything.
The doors closed.
One minute ten seconds.
“That was close.” Schi’s gripped the gurney handles. Pale knuckles against gold skin.
“Thirty seconds, no more.”
“Think he’ll remember us?”
Old folks. Settled into the bored life routine. No new adventures. Sure he’d remember us down to the rubber soles of our shoes.
“Probably. Just hope he doesn’t call 9-1-1.”
I should have shut the hell up; left the 9-1-1- reference out.
As you think, as you are.
Felt tension easing up my spine. Knew Schi felt it too.
“Shit!” Schi ran fingers through her hair. “Next, he’ll be over there investigating the van. Shit! Shit! Shit!” A fist pounded the walls of the elevator. “Let’s just get in and out. Quick.”
One minute seventeen seconds.
The hallway was empty of tenants as we traveled to Annette’s apartment. The door was already unlocked, so we opened it and quietly entered.
Many things have I seen in this business but nothing like what awaited me in Annette’s apartment.
Les Hatcher was blindfolded, facing away from us, tied to metal hooks hanging from the ceiling. Spread eagle.
Who would have thought?
Bits of food and other unidentifiable liquids dripped down his body. A collage of colors and textures. Something like lemon pudding covered the plastic-covered floor near me.
I met Schi’s eyes. She scrunched her face and curled her lips. I forced myself to swallow my bile and trained my eyes back on Annette and Les. Annette—definitely Chyna’s look-a-like—had already “strapped up,” was holding a fierce looking whip. She leaned close to his ear.
“Now what do you want me to do, Slave?”
Les’ head lolled around slowly before he answered. “P—please f-fuck me,” he whispered.
Vomit pushed up my esophagus. Barbie Hatcher might know a lot but I was positive she had no inkling of how “out there” ole Les truly was.
Two minutes twenty seconds.
I gulped air then opened our bag; readied our supplies. Annette gave Les’ butts a few more whacks with her whip. I winced at every snap, but Les only moaned and groaned. Like getting beat was the best shit since the invention of chocolate.
Annette met my eyes. I nodded. She smeared some what must have been honey or syrup off his back and onto her strapon. Her fingers then spread Les’ cheeks and she positioned herself, turning Les slightly in the process.
No wonder Barbie was all hot to hold onto this nerd of a man. This mugg was White Mandingo. John Holmes reincarnated. Hung like a fucking stallion.
Schi groaned. I looked, saw that gleam I knew all too well. Bitch-in-heat mode was coming into play.
Not now, chick.
I pinched her. She gave me an evil look, but who gave a fuck? Dammit, she had to focus! The check was cashed. Do or die. No refunds.
Two minutes thirty seconds.
The head of the plastic penis slowly disappeared between Les’ cheeks. He mewled and began rolling his hips like a woman; meeting each thrust head on. His cock bobbed and swung as Annette pumped him, degrading him the entire time.
Les heated up; back arched, hips rolled, pumped with gusto.
My nerve endings frayed; sent a battalion of arrows to my legs and up my arms. Made me want to scratch an itch.
Annette tore Les’ ass up. She pulled back, held his cheeks wide as she surged deep. In seconds, Les yelped, spurted come into the mess already on the floor. Legs gave way, left him hanging there, suspended by the hooks.
I reached for the latex gloves while Schi stared.
Saw the shape dislodge from the shadows.
Big and moving fast.
Too fast to react.
Opened my mouth to warn Schi.
Felt a thousand bolts zap through my body.
Nasty, food-smushed carpet fibers cushioned my face.
Tan baseboard stared back.
Felt a thump beside me.
Hoped Schi got him.
Couldn’t turn my head; couldn’t tell if I was on the winning team or the losers.
Felt a hand on my back.
Too big, too thick for Schi.
Smelled him then.
Cayenne pepper. Fecund earth. Metal. Blood.
Something ugly this way passes.
Fingers trailed from my neck, down my spine, massaged my lower back.
Shirt was pulled out. Hands reached beneath me, unbuckled my pants.
I willed my muscles to strike, slash out, hack.
Felt cool air on my ass.
Nothing good was coming.
Felt cool metal rubbing across my naked butt.
Between my cheeks.
Pushing at the entrance to my Milky Way.
Metal pushed harder; slid inside.
Breath on my cheek.
“Be careful who you try to fuck over, Mo.”
I knew the voice.
Ghetto gone to school.
Heard the hammer cock.
“You might be the one,”—school was over—“to get fucked.”
The gun boomed.
A date. A simple date.
I inhaled deeply again.
Cecelia and her husband, Sam, had been my neighbors since I moved in. A peculiar pair. They owned a funeral home, a very unique funeral home. Sam did the humans, Cecelia focused on animals. I never understood the need for funerals for pets but according to Cecelia, it was quite profitable.
I also didn’t understand the living arrangements. They had a mini-mansion attached to the funeral home, Sam’s family house. Cecelia, however, said she wouldn’t be caught dead living there. Ironic indeed. Their compromise was the townhouse since Sam refused to keep up two massive homes.
I felt a weight on my bed.
Thinking it was one of the dogs, I turned over slowly.
Familiar hazel eyes.
Inches from mine.
Skullcap covering the remainder of the face.
My arm hair stood erect.
Punch! Chop! Slash his neck!
I was pinned to the bed; no muscles responding to my brain.
But no fear either.
Masculine cologne triggered a memory of…it eluded me.
I needed to look at the rest of him; see if anything jogged my memory bank but… my eyes refused to unlock from his.
He didn’t move.
I didn’t move.
Two pairs of eyes boring into each other’s soul.
Lungs breathing in concert.
Who are you?
I was startled at the telepathy. Amazing.
I have no future with a man!
If you must lie to someone, it should not be yourself. I am your future. Clear as if he had spoken the words aloud.
I felt something akin to…hope tapping at my heart’s door.
Might be, but I’m coming for you. Be ready when I do.
He lifted off the bed and walked to my bedroom door.
Our bodies never touched. No audible words passed. His eyes were branded on my brain.
He turned with a hand on the knob. I watched his lips part. I’m M—
The alarmed screamed.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Barbarosa Madonna Vincente Hatcher.
She’d strolled into our office, eyes shooting rage darts though her speech gave no hint of her malcontent. I knew the shit was about to hit the fan for some unlucky soul.
Blond haired, green eyed, she was decked out in an expensive pantsuit, had a two hundred dollar haircut and I’m more than sure the surgically enhanced body would be judged at least a nine point five on the male ten point scale. It was obvious she was a fitness junkie. She had that “gym” look. Angles and muscles moving in sync.
I’d seen her type plenty of times before.
Married the husband when she was young, dumb and full of come.
Was the woman behind the man as he made a name for himself.
Now fifteen years later, the rose-colored glasses were finally snatched off and she had to face up to what she had. A cooling relationship. Kids half-grown, didn’t need her as much. No career of her own since she was helping hubby further his and besides, no wife of his would be allowed work anyway. All that was facing her was a mausoleum of a house, limp, unfulfilling sex every few months if she begged for it and wrinkles popping up daily. Money was no object and loneliness had become her constant companion.
Get in line sister. You’ve got plenty of company.
Roofing composite. Check.
Barbie explained her predicament in clipped tones. Her husband, Lester, Mr.-Damn-Near-Impotent-For-Her as she called him, was seeing someone else. She knew it.
As she told us, “After you’ve been washing a man’s shit stained shorts for years, you know when some come is added to the mix.” And that’s what she’d been noticing. Come stains. But she and hubby hadn’t had sex in two months.
“He can get it up for some trollop in the mall, but can’t get the sucker to rise to the occasion for me.” Barbie’s face reddened. “Look at me!” Her hands spanned up and down her body. “Men are always picking me up. But do I spread my legs like a bitch? No. Why?” Her lips trembled before she continued. “I—I happened to love the bastard, that’s why.”
Barbie wiped back the tears as we watched. Gave a couple of linebacker snorts into a lacy handkerchief she’d pulled out of her Coach purse before she straightened her back and met our eyes. “There is no way in hell, I’ll let that worm fuck over me and get away with it. Hell, I own that cock swinging between his legs, lock, stock and barrel.” A red fingernail to the chest punctuated her point.
A pissed off Barbie doll.
Schi and I both stifled our laughter as Barbie got straight to business. Brisk and businesslike, she’d let her face morph from rage to placidity, no trace of the uber bitch previously seen in the room, and said simply, “I need to nail a motherfucker to the wall.”
We could do that. That is our specialty after all.
“Want the son-of-a-bitch to remember me all his natural born days and beyond. Feel me?”
We did and planned to make it a hell of a delivery so he’d understand it too.
When we’d delivered our surveillance info a week later, I didn’t know what to expect. Telling me that my husband prefers to be the screwee versus the screwer would fuck with my mind royally. Some bail money would probably have to be arranged before it was all said and done.
Not Barbie. She was all cool; gave little hint that it fazed her much at all. It was when she called us back to give further instructions that I had to sit up and pay attention.
Barbie might look like her namesake but beneath that epidermis lay Shequisha Jenkins gone pale pink.
Shoot, her plan truly made me think twice about ever crossing her because she definitely but the D-E-V in deviant. In fact, as quirky as her mind apparently was, I didn’t understand why Les was in the streets. Hell, he had a freak fest at home!
Red Paint. Check.
Barbie requested a splosh party for ole Les. Splosh party? That was a new one for me but Barbie had narrowed the learning curve pretty fast. Apparently, it’s a party where you get aroused by pouring and smashing edible things on your body prior to having sex. From the photos I’d viewed on the Net, nothing was off limits—cake, honey, syrup, bread, pudding, mashed potatoes, ice cream, if you can smush it, mash it, smash it or pour it, it was fair game. Sticky foreplay, they called it. I shuddered. Sticky food all over me was not my idea of pleasurable foreplay.
I had to hold up a minute because this request was so unusual. Yeah, Les liked being beaten and taking it up the ass, but how the heck would we get him to join into a sploshfest?
Black paint. Check.
The answer was simple: money. No, not for Les. For Annette Hawkins, his dominatrix slash porker buddy. Laugh if you want, but the power of money is no joke. One grand and Annette—think the WWE’s Chyna—was in Schi’s pocket. Schi said she looked like she wanted to be in her pants too. Not my cup of tea but Schi was smiling like it wasn’t a half bad idea. To each his own.
Annette said she had no problem beating Les’ ass then pounding him raw before we did our thing.
She then let Les’ secret out the bag. Seems like many men, Les still hung on to a college tradition that had been a career killer for countless others: he didn’t mind sniffing a line of coke…provided it was free and in the comfort of a select environment. After all, who’s drug testing the CEO?
Annette offered to let him snort a line or two, mellow him out, before she cowered him into submission. Worked for us. As long as we don’t offer the drug, it’s fair game. Besides, it would definitely make him more “agreeable” for our leg of the night anyway.
One thing for sure…we were definitely going to find out!
Monday, October 15, 2007
I know I dipped on you guys in April but my mother took a turn for the worse and I went MIA for a few months. But I'm back and thought I'd continue with my Payback, Inc. story.
I've retooled the entire thing, but I won't start from the beginning here. There may be some overlap but I hope that you'll see how I've made Mo grittier and harder than before. You can read the entire prior chapters on my blog to get up to speed: http://blog.myspace.com/sydneymolare.
But here it is. And as always...send feedback!
After ushering Mrs. Brownings out, I placed the check on Stellae’s desk and waited. It wasn’t long.
“Mo. I see we’ve got another client that needs the works.” Her fingers worried the edges of the check.
“Yep.” I walked past her desk, headed to my office.
“Hey, Mo.” I stopped and turned already knowing where this convo was going. “What does she need…I mean, I know you guys haven’t asked and you don’t seem to need my input…but I think I could make the scenes really interesting. You know…unique.” Eyes pleaded for my approval.
Stellae saw herself as a budding actress. She thought what we did was lollipop-easy-does-it shit; that it would get her “street acting” credo. No where in that gelled head of hers did she have a clue as to what the real deal was. For good reason.
“Did I tell you I had written a play?” She knew good and well she’d told me and had even given me a copy. I nodded my affirmation. “Well the truth is, I really want to direct, not just act. I think that I’m a much better director than actor, anyway.” She bobbed her head, convincing herself. “I’m saying that I think you’re not using all the talent you have available to you. I’m good and I know you’ll like what I come up with.” Hope was written all over her face.
I’d heard this before. She wasn’t ready for the real deal. It’s easy to fantasize about what we do in the field, it’s another thing, totally, to be in the action mix. Shit, we’re afraid when things go differently than planned. Men don’t take well to being messed over by women, especially when it’s done in the name of the wife. If we messed up…we could very well be finished.
My body hit subzero in a flash. A sense of déjà vu pushed at my skull. The memory close but…elusive. I rubbed my arms absently before shaking my head. “No, Stellae. You’re not ready,” I replied firmly.
“I can get ready. Just give me a chance to prove myself. That’s all.” Face still hopeful.
No need in prolonging the hurt. “Maybe later after much training and classes. I can’t risk you right now.”
She slumped back in the seat. “I see.”
Chick didn’t but I wasn’t putting her at risk at this stage of the game. Twenty years old…barely off her mama’s tit. A bullet or an out of control mark could put her in a wheelchair for life or worse…carried out the church doors by six. Without another word, I left the lobby and entered my office.
As I watch my java drip, Schi entered and closed the door quietly behind her. “I heard.”
“Yeah. She been asking you about this?”
“Not straight out. Just hints.” Schi sat in the chenille-covered chair in front of my desk. Leaning back, she pulled a long, dark cigarette from her pocket. A stinky Cuban. She lit the end and drew in a long breath. “Do you think we should replace her? I don’t want her to start looking through the open files, deciding to help us without us knowing it.”
Something to consider. Normally, when we finish a case, the file was shipped out to a security controlled storage facility for one year. After that they were automatically shredded. Nothing was kept on the premises. This way, if we had a break-in, no one learned secrets they shouldn’t.
It also kept our butts out of a sling. Yes, we do everything in a legal manner but we do tap-dance on the edge of breaking the law in some situations. Enough so an irate husband could drum up some trouble. Next thing you know here comes the city’s finest snooping then a search warrant.
We weren’t looking for that at all. If we’re not anonymous and discreet, we’re finished.
“I think things are cool right now. I’ll keep a closer eye on her and double-check the locks on the file cabinets daily.” I took a sip of coffee. “Ready to get down to business?”
“Uh huh.” Schi inhaled a lung full of toxins. “I need to make a run across town.” A smile lurked in the corners of her mouth.
I already knew the deal. That cat slick grin was always there when sex was on her brain and it was always on her brain.
“This a booty call?”
She blew out a plume of smoke. “And you know this. Just a quick pick-me-up before we get started on the day.”
“Why couldn’t y’all do that last night?”
I shook my head at her antics. My smile slowly left my face as Jontel popped into my head. Shit.
Schi saw the change in my expression. “I know what you’re thinking, girl, but stop it now. You know, your condition isn’t a death sentence. If you’re up front with a guy and practice safe sex—”
“I know, Schi.” I had cut her off midsentence. “I’m just not ready to…to…expose myself yet.”
Every few months Schi decided I needed her to barge in, make comments on how I lived. That Mother Hen shit might work on the clients but I was sick of it.
“When are you going to be ready? When you’re sixty? When you’re sitting in a wheelchair?
When?” Schi stood and leaned over the desk.
Schi was definitely pushing the limits our friendship. Yeah she’s just talking but my mind is telling me to slap the shit out of her so she’ll mind her own business.
“You’re not the only one with this problem. Other folks get out there and live with it everyday. They enjoy themselves. I can’t stand how you just let life pass you by. Do you think I’d let it stop me?”
“Probably not. But it ain’t a problem you’ve got…yet, so it’s not the same, is it?”
“Maybe so. Maybe not. I just wish you’d try to do more than work these cases and go home and play with Millionaire and Billionaire,” she said, referring to my two Schnauzers. “That ain’t living.” Schi stubbed her cigarette out in an ashtray on the corner of my desk before standing.
“I know,” I replied quietly. “That ain’t living, it’s existing. And right now, I don’t know how to do anything else.”
Did she really believe I wanted to isolate myself? That I wanted no other human contact than the folks in this office and the clients? Well, hello? I wanted to be loved, touched, stroked just like the next woman. Shit, emotional vacuum gets old quick. But without any good alternatives, that’s where I am.
“All I know is I can’t take rejection at this point in my life or maybe never.”
“You might be surprised how many men won’t reject you. I don’t know what to tell you. If it were me, I’d read up on the new advances with this disease and figure out what I had to do to protect my partner.” Schi scratched at her head. “Hey. You know I read about an Internet service that’s for people—”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to believe I had it, much less entertain the thought of sex with someone else who had it. If I wanted that, I could have stayed with Jontel.
“It was just a suggestion. Don’t rule it out.” She looked at her watch. “Hey, I’m out of here. I’ll be back in an hour or so. After I get back, I’ll work through lunch. So if you have pulled the preliminary stuff, we can map out the ‘big show’ for Mr. Bill.” Schi laughed.
“And a big show it will be,” I confirmed, waving her out. “Have a good time for me too, will you?”
“Now, if I’ve got to get yours and mine, I might have to take the rest of the day off.”
“On second thought, just have a good time for yourself. You need to get your butt on back here as soon as feasible.”
“Feasible is in the pants of the beholder. Adios.” She winked as she walked out of the door.
I watched go, wanting to trade places, to reverse time. But time waits and reverses for no one.
Somehow, I managed to refocus my attention on our “festivities” for tonight. I pulled the phone to me and dialed up Mrs. Hatcher.
Schi stretched across the across the couch wearing only her thongs, awaiting her lover. She knew she was playing a dangerous game but her uninhibited soul wouldn’t allow her to only stare at the flame. She had to see if it truly burned.
She pulled out a cigarette, flicked her lighter. As the smoke curled to the ceiling, she relaxed further into the couch.
“Put it out,” a gruff voice said behind her.
Schi smiled and inhaled deeply, blew a plume from between her glistening lips. “Make me.” Her juices collected between her lips. She’d known he was already in the house. But she loved it rough and smoking a cigarette pissed him off royally.
Hands twisted in her hair, pulled her head backwards until brown eyes met black. “Put it out and I’ll go easy on you.”
Schi took another drag, held the cigarette out of reach in response, before blowing the smoke into the dark face.
Judge Gregory Molhon.
Mo would shit a brick if she could see her now.
Judge Molhon had been an unwitting participant in a Payback scenario. His wife, Judy, had requested they ‘get the goods on the low-down motherfucker’ eight months ago and they had. A pretty redhead, a little superglue and Judge Molhon had been left holding his dick. Literally. Mrs. Molhon had gotten a tidy divorce settlement as a result.
But Schi had wanted, oh how she’d wanted to ride his fat, black love pole with its red crown before doing the deed. It was the first time she’d wanted to deviate; switch up the pre-planned script for her own sexual satisfaction. She’d stayed the course and three months ago, Fate had intervened and they’d bumped into each other. The judge still didn’t have a clue they’d met before. After all, she had been a redhead with green contacts and bronzing cream slathered from head to toe. No resemblance to her natural state at all. She planned to keep him in the dark, too.
Thick lips parted into a smile/sneer. “Oh, you want to play bad bitch today, huh?”
The hand twisted her strands further, tearing at her scalp, making her arch over the couch. Schi feinted at his wrist with the cigarette. The judge grabbed the hand before the cigarette made contact, rolling Schi onto her stomach and pulling her all the way over the couch and upright.
“You know what happens to little girls who want to act like bad ass bitches, right?”
Schi seriously thought about kicking him in the groin, flipping him in a classic Judo move, but thought better. The average female didn’t disarm a man; leave him staring up at her from the floor. No need to open up a line of questions when all she was after was a thorough fucking. Instead, she whimpered, scrunched up her face as if in pain.
“Oh, you’re worried now?” The judge leveled his eyes with hers. Schi nodded before she let her eyes float to the floor. She’d play along; let him have his fun this time. “That’s better…but you still have to be punished.”
The cigarette was plucked from her fingers and dropped into the aquarium. He led her to a chair. Schi turned to sit and he stopped her.
“I sit; you stand.”
Schi remained still as the judge seated himself. He turned Schi sideways. Hands skimmed over her hips before they cupped the cheeks. The thong was grasped and pulled taut. The string dug into her flesh, but it was all pleasure-pain as far as Schi was concerned. Her clit jumped as he pulled the material even tighter.
Schi stood unmoved as his palm met her buttocks over and over. In her opinion, if you’re gonna spank ass, spank ass! After a few more less than numbing smacks, she turned to meet the judge’s eyes. “That all you got?” she baited.
His nostrils flared, a vessel pulsed in his temple. He released her suddenly; stood and pulled his clothes from his body. Schi couldn’t take her eyes off the cock rising and falling rhythmically beside her. She wanted to drop to her knees, slam her lips around the dripping rod, suck him deep into her throat, make him cum in seconds. But this was his show so she restrained herself.
“Bend over the chair.” A command.
Schi saw his hands twitch as she rested her palms on the seat. She resisted the smile trying to push itself onto her lips. She’d challenged his skills, so she knew he’d give it his all, just like she liked it.
Take it to the head or take your ass home!
Schi watched between her legs as the judge spat into his palms and rubbed them together. One hand rested in the dip of her back before the other swung halfway to the ceiling, returned with the force of a tsunami. Schi was lifted off the floor. She grunted but remained in position. The pain in her buttocks transformed into delicious pleasure by the time it reached her clit. Her pussy was slippery; juice crawled down her leg.
The judge put his back into it; wailed away at her thick hips. Sweat coated his chest and arms, began trailing down his forehead. He smiled as the cheeks reddened but he didn’t stop. His hand throbbed, his cock leaked precum; dripped the viscous fluid onto the carpet unchecked.
Schi upped the ante; thrust her ass into the air meeting him smack for smack.
He unhinged. Slid his hand between her thighs, collected the hot honey and smeared it over her high hole. Schi undulated now; wanted to feel dick inside of her. The judge obliged. He pulled on a condom and smeared more of her pussy juice on the outside. He pushed past her sphincter, planned to ram her, teach her a lesson.
But Schi was no novice to rough trade. Just as he’d slide in as deep as she could stand, she clamped down around his iron cock, vising him with her sphincter. The judge stiffened; unable to move beneath the assault. Schi squeezed tighter. The breath stilled in his chest, black dots danced in front of his eyes as his traitorous balls tightened and gism surged upward before he slumped to the floor.
Schi unbent from the chair, stretched and flexed slowly. She stared at the judge, lips quirked at his loud snores. Baby. It had been a good appetizer but not the whole enchilada by any means.
She nudged his chin with her freshly manicured big toe. It took a moment, but the judge finally half-squinted at her with one barely focused eye.
She gave him her business smile. “Cute warmup” –the smile dropped from her face—“but Mama is still hungry.”
A foot was placed on either side of his head…and she dipped slowly down to cover his face.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Author’s Note: This book was started shortly after Stone’s Revenge was finally finished in 2000. I was still in a killing mood and I found myself doing this killer in Detroit.
Now I must tell you something about the most noted murder capital of the world. In my opinion, even if there was a serial killer in Detroit, it would be hard to find. I seriously think Detroit is a body dump and people just think because there’s so many people dying here anyway, why don’t I just dump it there.
They’ve never found a methodical killer such as the one in my book except for the one that was killing prostitutes or homeless women and leaving their bodies in abandoned homes all over the Eastside.
These are just the first seven chapters, but I wanted to see if you guys like it. Regina is my typical innocent but smart girl and then the guy, well, I’m still trying to make my mind out about him.
If if sounds interesting, I might finish or I might change the characters. I know the rest of the story already in my head, but I thought I'd test this with you first.
I'd also like to know if you can come up with a better title. I'm not feeling this one and I would love for someone to give me something unique and just would hook me totally.
Winner gets a free book of Secrets, Lies & Family and when this book is released you'll be given a code to get a free book when I ship your initial book. (Must produce the code to get the book.)
The decomposing body of Rita Fleet was a horrific sight. Whomever had done this to her, truly had a sick mind, yet there was evidence that she knew her attacker.
That had been her only good news that year that the lump turned out to be non-cancerous.
Lisa laughed looking into the refrigerator. “I figured that old bat was running her mouth at you when you didn’t answer your phone, plus I was in the neighborhood. What’s for dinner?” she asked, before plopping two grapes in her mouth and taking a whole handful more out the refrigerator.
Crawling in bed, Regina said a little pray for good dreams and safe keeping throughout the night.
“Ray!!” Claudette cried, punching him in the arm.
He winced smiling. “You can’t help but to notice that attributes about Regina, Claudie. I was just pointing out that Mason missed the mark.”
“It was close enough,” Lisa said.
Claudette practically dragged Ray away from Lisa and Regina to the other side of the club, where the bar was.
“I didn’t notice her looks that well,” Regina admitted.
“I did and in my opinion Mason sees that he lost the best thing he had in his life. All he had to do was wait, the little gay prick. Ten bucks say he wanted to shank you.”
Regina’s cheeks blossomed in embarrassment. “How’d you know he asked?”
Lisa laughed in surprise. “You’re shitting me aren’t you, Gina?”
“He asked, but I told him I didn’t do that,” Regina said proudly.
They both looked over to where Mason was dancing with the woman. His movements were jerky and nerdy, while hers were fluid and rhythmic.
“Did I look like that when we danced?” Regina asked, trying hard to contain the laughter building up inside of her.
“Worse,” Lisa said.
The best friends looked at each other and burst out laughing together. When they had calmed down, Lisa asked, “Can I borrow your car?”
“For what?” Regina asked suspiciously.
“For reasons that you don’t need to know about.” They started to head up to the VIP section of the club, so they could speak quietly.
“It’s my car and I need to know,” Regina demanded.
Lisa sighed. “I got this guy who I want to impress and you know my car is a piece of crap.”
“You mean, my car is new and you’ve been using every excuse in the book to get your hands on it,” Regina said knowingly.
“True, but this is going to be so good,” Lisa gurgled. “You’ve got to let me do it. I want to blow this guys mind.”
Regina gave her friend a skeptical look, but after a moment, she conceded. “You take good care of my baby.” They exchanged car keys and Lisa hugged her excitedly.
“Thank you, this will go to a good cause.”
“What cause?” Regina asked.
“I plan to seduce a man into a frenzy. Can you believe there’s a man out there who can actually resist me?” she asked, with a lot of audacity.
Regina raised an inquisitive brow. “He must be near death.”
Lisa giggled. “He’s tall dark and quiet. Just the way I like it.” She leaned in closer. “It makes it all better when they scream your name.”
She laughed at Lisa’s silliness.
By one-thirty in the morning, the party was still going strong even though cut off was in thirty minutes and the club would be closing in an hour and a half. She wanted to get home before it was too late.
She couldn’t find Lisa or anyone else she knew on the main floor so she adjourned to the VIP private suite to see if Lisa had gone. She quietly opened the door just in case someone was sleeping on the handy couch. The room was dimly lit, and she almost turned around to head out the door until she heard moaning sounds coming from a partition that she had to move around to see what was behind.
Quietly moving around, Regina covered her mouth in shock as she came upon Kathleen, with Mason and another guy, in a dark corner of the room. At first it looked as if they were dancing sensuously to the music that pulse through the halls, but on closer look, Regina realized the guy in the front had his pants open, while Mason was taking her from behind. The look on Kathleen’s face was pure ecstasy and Regina quickly moved out the room before any one could see her. But she was fascinated at how Kathleen could divide her time between the two lovers and make love as if there was no tomorrow.
Regina envied the carefree spirit and wished that for one night she could experience something like that. The room began to spin and she hurried to the bathroom before she passed out.
“Too much fun?” Claudette sang behind her, after Regina was able to catch her breath.
“You could say that.” She made herself busy touching up her makeup and told herself that she had probably had too much to drink.
Regina didn’t know if she should be disgusted or envious because she knew she would never know the high Kathleen was experiencing at this moment upstairs. That was a natural high she would never know about.
Why had Mason left her? Because Regina couldn’t respond to sex like that. Mason never evoked that kind of passion from her.
Lisa came into the bathroom, “I love a good party, don’t you?” Lisa asked, her cheeks flushed and blooming. “Hey girl, I’ve been looking all around for the two of you. Why aren’t you out there?” she asked specifically Claudette.
“I’m hiding from that over possessive bully,” Claudette said, puffing away on a cigarette anxiously twitching.
“Well, Ray was so upset you’ve been in this bathroom for hours, he just came to me to let me know he was leaving,” Lisa said.
Claudette gasped. “That was my ride!”
“Guess you’re going to have to find someone else,” Lisa said. “I’m not driving your ass out to Royal Oak this time of night.”
Claudette huffed and stormed out the bathroom.
Lisa immediately turned to Regina, “What’s wrong, boo?”
Regina had been fighting tears of misery since coming in the bathroom, but now that they had this time alone, she allowed her tears to flow freely. “It was me. Mason loved me, and in a sick way he still does, but I couldn’t understand why he was never satisfied. Now I know.”
“Why?” Lisa asked. It wasn’t to be nosey, but to find out if she could help her friend.
“I’m...frigid,” she choked through a powerful sob, hugging Lisa for dear life.
“Oh, boo, it’s okay,” Lisa tried to assure her.
Regina shook her head. “No, it’s...not,” she hiccuped through her cry. “I’ll never know what an orgasm is if I’ve never had it with a man.”
“But you will, one day, when you allow yourself to free your mind. When you can be comfortable with the act,” Lisa tried to explain. “Listen, boo,” she insisted looking into Regina’s face. Gently with a piece of tissue Lisa wiped the tears off of her friend’s face.
Regina started to calm down and listen to her friend.
“Don’t think about yourself or your needs, just think about making him enjoy what is happening-”
She cut her off, “But, I won’t-”
Lisa put her finger over Regina’s lips. “Listen to me, Regina, like you’ve never listen to me before in your life.” She took a deep breath. “I want you to go out, find the first good looking stranger you see, and show him a good time.” Her voice was but a whisper, but Regina could hear every syllable she spoke. “Worry about his happiness, find his sweet spot and don’t stop touching, kissing and licking it until he cries for mercy.”
“I could never do something like that.”
“Then don’t be you. Be someone else. Be me.”
It sounded so easy. Lisa could make figuring out the Rubix Cube easy.
Lisa reached in her waist wallet, her best friend pulled out a silver packet and pressed it in Regina’s hand. “You’ll need it.” Kissing her cheek, Lisa left out the bathroom leaving her alone.
Regina looked down at her hand and gasped. Lisa had given her a condom. Looking over at the trashcan, she wondered if she should toss it.
‘Regina would toss it,’ she said to herself speaking in third person. ‘But Lisa wouldn’t.’
Getting up still holding the silver packet tightly, Regina made her way out the club and got in the car. She would keep the condom in case she changed her mind, but tonight, she would be Regina Cody, the prune, and go straight home to get some sleep.
Looking at the clock in Lisa’s car, she noted it was going on two in the morning. Way past her bedtime!
He had been pacing his apartment like a caged animal. Although his lieutenant had ordered Tobias to go home and get some sleep, getting rest was the last thing on his mind. His work was more than a way to get away from his personal life, but it also kept him from thinking about her and the emotional pain he was suffering right now.
Moving over to the table near the front door, he picked up the pack of cigarettes and quickly popped one in his mouth to light it up. Just as he was sucking the first drag, the phone rang. In his peripheral vision, he saw it was only one in the morning. Scattered showers had started early that night and the Doppler weather team on Channel Seven predicted that more showers for the nightfall were predicted.
“It’s Paul,” the voice spoke on the other receiver with a lot of static. Paul was using his cheap cell phone. “Did you get any rest?” he asked
“Hell no,” Tobias growled. “It feels like I got fucking ants in my pants. I can’t sit still to save my life.”
Paul chuckled on the other line. “I figured you’d find another way to relieve your stress.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
“Either you’re on your second pack of cigarettes for the day or you’ve found a woman to take your frustrations out on,” Paul explained.
“I’m not crawling back to Sheryl just for sex,” he said defensively, even though he had thought about it, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Paul.
“I didn’t think you would, but you should consider not to go another day without relief, Tob. You know how you get.”
Tobias didn’t like the gist of this conversation, so he changed the subject, “What the hell are you calling me so late for?”
“I told you I’d call you as soon as I found something.” Paul answered. “Two tips came in I thought we should check out together.”
Tobias knew that last word, which was stressed, meant something to Paul, but Tobias didn’t feel like trying to figure out what his partner meant. “What tips?”
“A man called the non-emergency line leaving a message to check the Milwaukee creamery and a security guard at the Fischer Building on the boulevard said he saw something suspicious. Can you meet me at the Fischer Building in a hour?”
While Paul was talking, Tobias grabbed the white pages off the bottom shelf of the phone table and started flipping the pages to the M section. “Sure, but what did they mean by the Milwaukee creamery?” He didn’t see a listing for something of that nature in the white pages.
“I’m still trying to figure that out. See you in an hour,” Paul confirmed before disconnecting.
Tobias checked the yellow pages and even called the directory knowing in the back of his mind, Paul probably covered these bases already. There was no Milwaukee Creamery located anywhere in the city of Detroit. As he put on his coat, he noted to himself that the street beside the boulevard was named Milwaukee and right past the overhead train tracks there was some closed down warehouses being used as storage.
It was raining like cats and dogs by now and he had to hurry to his old trusted black GMC van he used when he was working. Getting inside of it, he shook the wet and cold away as he turned the key. As always, the starter clicked a few times, but after the third try the engine revved and then calmed awaiting for it’s driver to take it out.
Tobias had this van since high school. It was the first vehicle he had bought and restored to good condition and he swore he would drive it until the day he died or he just didn’t feel like working on it anymore. When he had bought it, the vehicle was all white, but he just didn’t like it and painted the vehicle black after high school. Presently, he was working on the interior, recarpeting the walls and reupholstering the seats. The large chair in the back was especially being done because it smelled too much like Sheryl’s favorite perfume, White Diamonds.
He tried his best to forget the times they had inside the van. Too many to count.
Turning down Milwaukee, about a mile from where he was to meet Paul, he looked at the old buildings and saw what he was looking for on the other side of the street. There was an old creamery. Immediately pulling to the side of the road, he shut the van off and grabbed his flashlight.
Rechecking his gun before getting out, he covered his head and jogged across the empty streets. There weren’t a lot of street lights on this side of town and especially on the side street hardly no one used this far off from Woodward.
Tobias has a feeling he probably wouldn’t find anything with it being so dark, but he just had to see for himself if his theory about the tip would turn up something.
Checking his Timex Indiglo watch, he saw he had about forty-five minutes to meet Paul. His plan was to look around for five minutes, then get over to the guard early to see if he could get some information out the guard without Paul being around. Sometimes people felt intimidated with two cops staring at them.
Before even leaving the parking lot, she realized her problem and why she hated to drive at night. Her Ford Focus had been specially fitted with a tinted windshield for her eyes. She had partial night-blindness and it had always been difficult for her to see after dusk for any reason.
Regina wasn’t driving her car, though. She was driving Lisa’s trusted Escort and it was bitch just making to the main road. She pulled to the side of the road and took out her contacts. In her purse she had around her waist, she had a pair of bifocals on and put them on. Checking the driver’s rear view mirror, she crinkled her nose in distaste at herself, noting that she looked extremely dorky, which was why she had switched to contacts.
The rain pouring down like a gigantic waterfall didn’t make it any better on driving conditions. To make matters worse, she got on the wrong freeway and ended up on the East Side of Detroit, before she realized she was going the wrong way.
Getting off at the Van Dyke exit before she did a turnaround only to realize she had to take East Grand Boulevard around to get back on the freeway. When she finally found the entrance to the freeway, it was closed for construction.
Cursing to herself for being out this late, she continued on down the Boulevard which curved sharply around the car plant and would lead her over a horrible pot-holed filled bridge. She knew if she were in her Focus, the suspension would take it, but Lisa’s old car wouldn’t so Regina’s best bet would be to go down Milwaukee.
Regina’s father used to work at the plant and would drop Regina off at a babysitter’s house on this side of town. He would take these side roads and would amuse her pretending he was lost. By the time she was eight, she realized her father was only pulling her leg, but she would fall for it every time and instruct her father on how to get home from where they were. The feeling of being in charge had made the events so memorable in her mind even at that age.
It was a good thing the road was bare, because she was only going twenty miles an hour praying she wouldn’t hit anything.
Out of nowhere she swerved not seeing the hazard lights on the van until late, the splashing a whole bunch of water on a person standing in the front to the van with the hood up. She felt awful but continued to drive stopping at the next light.
Looking in the rear view she tried to see if the driver was still in front but she couldn’t see a thing. Was it a woman or man?
Despite the feeling she shouldn’t, Regina went all the way around the block and then slowly pulled up beside the van. A very tall well-built man was still standing in front of the van soaked. She rolled down the window and shouted, “Are you okay?”
He only shook his head.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said.
He gestured that he couldn’t hear her with all the rain.
Biting her lips, she unlocked the door and reached opening the passenger door to invite him in. He had the nerve to hesitate but then slid his long thick body in. He still had the hood over his head as he closed the door and rolled up the window.
Her heart was racing praying she hadn’t put herself in danger by inviting this complete stranger in her car. She made sure she didn’t lock the doors on car and held her breath while he slowly pulled the hood off of naturally curly short cut hair. She could tell it hadn’t been combed today, but he was pretty much well groomed with a goatee. Looking up into his face, she had to squint to see that he was a dark brown almond skin and had large eyes. With her horrible night vision she couldn’t see much else and a sinking feeling in encompassed her chest knowing this was a bad idea. He was ten times her size barely able to squeeze in this car and she had invited the danger in.
She said apologetically, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry about soaking you.”
He was staring at her, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking because she could barely see his face. It was as if a tint on her glasses and she couldn’t determine details due to it. If she took off the glasses, she knew her vision would just be blurred and dark so it was best to keep them on.
Yet, even though she couldn’t see him, she could just sense this wasn’t his part of town by the way he carried himself. “How long have you been out there?” she questioned just to make conversation.
“A couple of minutes,” he grumbled.
Regina had a feeling he was scooping her out carefully. Reaching under Lisa’s seat, she pulled out a towel she knew Lisa kept under there. He quietly thanked her wiping his face and opening his jacket.
“Are you alright?” she questioned squinting hard to pick out some features.
“Do I look okay?” he growled.
She grew very apprehensive. “I could call someone for you.” Reaching in her purse to get her cell phone, he suddenly caught her hand in a firm grip. Her heart race feeling how big his hand was compared to her own.
“I locked my keys in the car while I was trying to pop the hood,” he explained gruffly. “I’m just pissed off. It’s no reason to get upset.”
“I-I wasn’t getting upset,” she said shaking her head.
“I was making you uncomfortable,” he pointed out. “I’m just stressed.” He released his grip from her wrist.
“Do you always know when you make someone uncomfortable?” she asked taking the phone out her purse.
He nodded confidently. “Especially women.”
Now he sounded like an arrogant ass, she thought.
“I’m not arrogant,” he said suddenly.
She gasped because he had read her thoughts.
“I just know women,” he admitted.
Regina really wanted to get away from him. Her breathing had been irregular since allowing him to get in the car and sit near her. “Do you need me to call someone?”
“It would probably be of much better assistance if you would take me down the street on the boulevard. I was meeting a friend there and I know he could help me.”
By the way he spoke, he was not from around there, she could immediately tell. “I could,” she said, “But what if I wasn’t going that way.”
“I was,” she admitted easily.
“Do you mind? I’d make it worth your while,” he promised his tone of voice getting strangely deeper.
She hesitated on her answer to catch her breath. “No I don’t.” Putting the phone back, she noted the silver-ish wrapper in her purse and her mind went back to the bathroom earlier this evening. Lisa’s words rung out strong in her brain. ‘I want you to go out, find the first good looking stranger you see, and show him a good time.’
Regina looked back at the stranger trying very hard to determine how he looked, but her eyes failed her. “I don’t suppose you’re in a hurry to meet your friend?”
He looked at his watch making the Indiglo light come on. “I’ve got about twenty minutes to meet him since you’re interested.”
Nervously she secretly took the condom out and held it in her palm as she slowly put the car in drive and slowly rolled away from the curb.
“Is there something on your mind, Lisa?” he asked.
Stiffly, she shook her head. “Why’d you call me Lisa?”
He held up one of Lisa’s business cards her friend kept in the empty ashtray. “That is your name isn’t it? It says here you’re a party girl because I’ll be damn if you aren’t a race car driver.”
Regina took the card away from him and tossed it on the dash. “If you’re discussing my driving, then I’ll admit now, I have no business driving this late at night. I feel like I’m blind as a bat.”
“Are you intoxicated?” he questioned.
She giggled more to herself. “I haven’t gotten the urge to swing from a chandelier, but my inhibitions are certainly going away because I would never pick up any strangers.” She stopped at the light.
“What does a party girl do?” he inquired.
She looked over at him. When Lisa was seducing a guy, Regina remembered, her hands would touch in innocent places, but Lisa was usually at a club or in a public place. What could Regina do now, to make her intentions known to this guy. “They plan parties. Mostly large parties and they make a great deal of money.”
“What about private parties?” he questioned.
She nodded. “Those too...” Regina realized his face had gotten closer to hers and she looked up in the direction of his face cursing that she couldn’t see a damn thing. “Private parties are her specialties.”
“Why are you speaking in third person?”
Regina bit her bottom lip, then quickly released it. Looking forward feeling still breathless, she squinted at the light. Yes, it was green and there was one more light to go before she would turn on the boulevard. That light was a block away and slowly she allowed the car to just roll down the street. Did he notice they were going unusually slow? And if he did why didn’t it bother him if he was meeting someone? “We were talking about what party girls do, weren’t we?”
“I was more interested in what you exactly do?”
She frowned not getting his meaning. “What exactly holds your interest?”
“You,” he stated with enough meaning that she certainly got. “Do you hold intimate private parties?”
She pushed the brake down to stop at the green light at the end of the block. There was no traffic at all coming in either direction. If she wasn’t breathing hard before, she was definitely breathing hard now. She could hardly see his face, but she could hear the inflection in his tone that told her whatever she had to offer he would be interested. If she answered like Regina, it would definitely turn the guy off. Lisa’s voice burst in her head, ‘Then don’t be you. Be someone else. Be me.’ What would Lisa say? “Those are my favorite and they’re no charge.”
Regina felt wickedly aroused at that moment. A feeling she had never felt before. Her hand moved down to the gearshift very close to his thigh, which were centimeters away from her thigh. Licking her lips warily, she placed her hand high on his thigh and leaned in close to him. At any moment he could reject her advances and this would be more embarrassing than anything would, but that chance would that he could-
His lips overtook hers like a force she had never experienced knocking what little breath she had engulfed in the last breath right back out of her. God, did he taste like sweet chocolate all the time or was she just still high off that champagne.
Lisa’s words vibrated through her head. ‘Worry about his happiness, find his sweet spot and don’t stop touching, kissing, and licking it until he cries for mercy.’ Her hands entwined up in his wet curly hair pulling him deeper in the kiss, parting his lips with her tongue and hearing the deep groin from his throat reverberating her own vocal cords because his tongue was so far down her throat.
Forgetting that she was in the driver’s seat, she took her foot off the brake by mistake. The car lurched forward jolting them out the kiss. She quickly pushed her foot back on the brake and threw the car in park. This gave her time to catch her breath and sit back in her seat panting hungrily.
“I shouldn’t have-” she started out apologetically.
“It’s not your fault,” he cut her off. He too was out of breath and she was positive she heard a slight confusion in his tone. “I told you I was stressed and my actions towards people lately have been unpredictable.”
“How stressed?” she asked offhandedly.
He groaned again sending strange titillation through her skin. “You don’t want to know, Lisa,” he sigh running a frustrated hand through his head.
She checked the light again seeing it was turning to green at that time. The next street was a one way and she made a right and pulled on the side of the road. Turning the car off, she turned towards him. Her pulse had increased because she knew what she was about to do would change her life - forever.
Her lips formed the words slowly as her hand moved back to his thigh, but slowly moved downward toward his groin. “Why don’t you let me help you with your stress?”
Her fingers ended at his mid-thigh and she realized she was touching the tip of his manhood.
He reached over and took off her glasses. “What kind of private party do you have in mind for me, Lisa?”
Leaning her face in the direction of his voice, in her best seductive voice, she whispered, “Wherever the mood takes us.”
It didn’t take much to get him to kiss her again and what a wonderful kisser he was. This was a man who knew what he wanted and even if she didn’t know how he looked, she could tell her body didn’t care. ‘Find his sweet spot,’ Lisa’s voice whispered in her head.
Even as their lips molded them together, she was able to push his jacket off his shoulders. Her fingers moved daintily over the skin of his neck, up behind his ear, and down his chest. The T-shirt he wore was still damp and molded to his chest. Regina couldn’t believe the physical power behind this man, yet as he raised her up over the gearshift and placed her in his lap, he was ever so gentle yet purposefully arousing.
Her legs straddled his hips as his hands pulled the dress down off her shoulders. The material seemed to melt from her body and she didn’t mind that he could see her breast as he cupped them in his strong hands. It didn’t take long for his lips to follow his hands exciting the tips, which had her begging for more. She dipped her head slightly and was able to lick the back of his ear and could tell this was a spot he deeply enjoyed being touched in.
‘Don’t stop touching, kissing, and licking it until he cries for mercy,’ Lisa’s voice ordered in her head.
She heard him curse under his breath as she attack this spot with passionate relish at the same time grinding her lips against his groin feeling him engorge even more underneath her. His hand moved down to caress her sweet spot. Regina couldn’t believe how wet she was and that she had sense of careless wantonness.
Urging him to remove his shirt, he quickly discarded that and returned to her chest enjoying the fullness of her body. She had never felt this oral worship and she could just imagine what he was thinking because from the outside of her dress her chest hadn’t look so full, but she knew he was just amazed at what she could hold down.
He had moved aside the black bikini underwear she wore inserting a long thick finger inside of her. She whined in needful lust softly in his ear, speaking her desire to have him in her at that moment. Her hands moved down to his pants and she raised up slightly as she quickly opened his pants. His mouth was indulging in titillating the other breast while his finger drew even more wetness from him. She could actually feel the muscles inside of her pulsating against his finger as she felt her whole body began to shake.
Holding on to his shoulders for dear life she experienced the first orgasm in her life. All she could scream out was thank you repeatedly with a passionate cry so beholden to him, he had to cease all movement as she slowly came down from her high.
He used his hand to wipe the tears of her cheek, then he cupped her face and drew her close to his own. She could feel the breath from his lips, caress her cheek. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked his voice was filled with disbelief.
She could only shake her head still shuddering in passion.
“Is this your first orgasm?” he asked curiously.
Regina nodded. “Thank you, so much. You just don’t know how many questions you answered for me.”
His lips benevolently caressed her own. “I want to make love to you, Lisa,” he whispered.
She was only a little bothered that he thought of her as her best friend, but she knew she needed this mystery in order to stay this aroused. The mystery of not knowing him and he not knowing her created a special stimulation for her. Although she had to wonder how would her name sound from those addictive lips of his and melodic deep passionate voice. “I already gave you my permission,” she said pressing the silver packet in his palm.
He didn’t take long to prepare him, and he busied her while he primed himself with what felt like a thousand kisses combined into one keeping her senses spinning. She didn’t care about anything right now but to give him pleasure. The more she knew he wanted her, the more she wanted to please him.
The feeling was way past heavenly and as he smoothly guided himself deep within her wetness, she gripped his shoulders shaking all over. The pain was swift and over before she knew it and his hands holding her waist assisted in instructing her how to please him.
He liked it slow in the beginning, but as his member pulsed harder and harder in her and she could feel his heartbeat resonate sending her thigh muscles trembling, he quickened his movements and she easily rode him until she closed her eyes so tight she could only see a white blinding light and she relished in her second orgasm joining his own deep within her.
Even he trembled with her at the magnitude of passion they had just shared and she knew even though he was an expert lover, what was happening now felt new to him.
Regina couldn’t believe how much emotional and physical detail she had paid to this man. His breathing wavered on excitement and confusion as he pulled her close to him as if trying to forever implant this moment into his memory.
Tenderly, he kissed her neck and cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.
“For what?” she asked confused laying her head on his incredibly long broad shoulder.
“Relieving my stress.”
Although his tone sounded serious, she knew quite possibly he was teasing her and she smiled to herself thoughtfully, but their special time together would have to end soon and the hour was so late.
He shuddered as she lifted herself up from him and moved to her own seat fixing her clothes in the process. When he started to fix him, she gently pushed his hands away while grabbing a handi-wipe from the side of the seat. Firmly gripping the semi-aroused member, she cleaned him as thoroughly as possible.
Leaning his head back, he seemed to appreciate the gesture. “That is new,” he admitted.
“What?” she questioned innocently.
“No woman’s ever taken the time to clean me,” he explained adjusting his pants and buckling his belt.
She blushed and finished arranging her clothes correctly. “I have to admit I haven’t done this before.”
He kissed her cheek as he put on his jacket. “Don’t you ever do this again,” he reprimanded her and then got out the car while it was still pouring rain.
“Where are you going?” she asked worriedly.
He came around the car to the driver’s side and she gasped at the massive size of him along with the height. What the hell had she been doing?
When she rolled down the window, he shot one of his large hands in gently gripped the back of her neck and pulled her to him to kiss her long and hard. “Don’t you ever pick up strangers again.”
She gave him a playful salute, reached up and kissed him on her own twice as long but since she wasn’t that strong, all she could do is make it twice as passionate making sure her fingertips brushed lightly the back of his ear. “Yes sir,” she breathlessly whispered when they pulled away.
“Get the hell out of here,” he growled.
Regina had a feeling he wasn’t mad at her like he sounded, but she had aroused him once again. There was a little bit of light where he was standing and she reached over to the dash on the passenger side to grab the glasses he had tossed up there.
Yet as she put them on and looked back out the window, he had disappeared into the darkness. She wanted to feel a little grateful she couldn’t form any emotional attachment, but why did it feel like the best thing that had happened in her life was running out on her.
By the time she pulled up in her driveway, she was back to the old Regina feeling guilt like a cider brick weighing down her shoulders. Taking off her glasses she rubbed the tears that had started to form in her eyes.
The only voice she heard in her head was her own, telling her she was going to hell in a hand basket. Parking in the same spot she always did, although she was totally blind with no lights on the side of her house, she made her way to the side door and dug the key out her side purse.
Just as she inserted the slim metal piece into the dead bolt lock, she smelled that same familiar scent of the other night despite the rain falling around her. Without even trying to look around she hurried herself into the house and locked her door back. Whoever was out there, she didn’t want to know. The old steel smell and cheap cigarettes scent still seemed closed despite the closed door, but she knew with her vision, she wasn’t trying to find out who it was.
She knew the house like the palm of her hand and didn’t bother to turn on any lights. Getting her cordless phone before she went to her bedroom, she dropped her dress to the floor and laid in bed too exhaustive to do anything else. Yet, as she drifted deep in sleep, she could smell the exotic potent scent of the stranger she had given herself to tonight and the events of the night with him replayed in her dreams repeatedly.
Arriving at the Fischer Building drenched to the bone, he met Paul just as he was coming out the building. With it still raining, Paul only gave him a curious look and then offered him the seclusion of his updated Grand Marquis not worrying about Tobias soaking his leather seats.
When he was inside behind the steering wheel, instead of asking his partner where he was, Paul went into explaining about the interview with the security guard. “He didn’t have much to tell me. He said about a month ago, he saw a large dark van stop in the middle of the island on the boulevard. He was getting off of work and waiting on the bus, when he noticed the dark van. He said the man was coming off the island in the middle of the road, and closing the doors to the back of the van. He was described as an incredibly tall dark man, facial hair, and a grim expression.”
Tobias sighed. “That’s not very descriptive. Hell, it could be me for all that.”
“I thought the same thing too,” Paul chuckled. “You want to release anything to the press. While I was waiting for you, I checked the time the guard said he saw the van and the day after we found another body just were he saw the van at.”
“The lieutenant wants something released to the media and this is good enough. Can you drop me off at home and get that done tonight so it can be on the morning news?” he asked.
Paul frowned. “This is the first time you didn’t want to be the one responsible for something in this case. What the hell is your problem?”
Tobias smirked to himself. “Sometimes all one needs is a special moment to happen to them in their life before they can consider others. I realize tonight, there’s more to life than this case.”
“Bullshit, for the past three years you’ve ate sleep and fought this case to the ground. What the hell happened in one night?” Paul demanded to know.
“Fate, my man. The most intoxicating fate that could happen to a man.” He leaned back in the seat with the most satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll tell you about the Milwaukee Creamery on the way home.”
The doorbell rung repeatedly and she dragged herself out the bed and went to the front door. Checking the peephole before opening, she smiled brightly seeing the kind faced Mr. Barker with the scruffy beard.
Even though he was a retired cop, he still kept himself in good shape. Standing tall at six feet one, and brawny the only thing was his slight beer belly, but she once saw him through his bathroom window from her upstairs window putting on something to wrap around his waist to hide his belly. She knew his real age was almost seventy, but he looked about fifty and could possibly pass for a late forties if he pushed it.
“Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, Regina. I know you good girls love to get your beauty sleep,” he said with a teasing chuckled.
She yawned. “You can say that again. What time is it?”
“Seven in the morning, actually, but I wanted to check on that leak you told my wife about last week,” he explained. “I didn’t want to let another week pass by without knowing what’s the problem.”
“Oh Mr. Barker, you could have just come on in this early in the morning,” she said guiding him to the bathroom and pointing out the leak.
“I didn’t want to scare you to death. My daughter had a thing about me coming up in her room, and I want to give you the same respect.”
Regina frowned. This was the first time he had ever mentioned a daughter. “Where is she now, Mr. Barker?” A look of pain crossed his features and he looked away from her. “She died in an accident a long time ago.” He cleared his throat. “You go on back to sleep. I’ll get this all patched up before I leave for work and let myself out, okay?”
“Thanks sir,” she said and went into her room.
Her thoughts went to what Claudette had said about their daughter and what had happened. Tiredly, she crawled back in bed and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come right away and it was light enough to let her know Mr. Barker had finished in an hour and let himself out just as promised.
He seemed like a very kind old man and Regina couldn’t believe he would hurt his own flesh and blood nor any other person for that matter.
When Regina awoke the next time, it was almost ten o’clock. She took a long hot shower while she brewed a fresh pot of coffee. After eating only a toasted English muffin with jam, she went up to her office to work on her newest accounts. The mornings were always her best time to work, but today her mind was a mile away from her work and after an hour of accomplishing nothing, she went downstairs. By this time it was going on twelve o’clock and she decided to watch the news while she straightened up the place. Having a sort of lazy day, she decided not to get dressed after her shower and walk around in her robe.
Soon as she turned on the television, a female reporter was on the screen in front of the Fischer Building. “I’m standing on the boulevard today to report yet another woman’s body found in the early morning hours on this street. The Grand Boulevard Casanova has struck again and this time it’s worse.” The screen cut to a scene just down the street on the East Side of the boulevard where police were blocking off the street and there was people standing around everywhere. The woman continued to speak. “The body of a young black woman in her late twenties was found beaten to unconsciousness and then stabbed repeated in the groin area. Before dying the woman was sodomized and an unidentified object was inside of the woman’s private parts. This is the trade mark of the Casanova killer.” The screen switched back to the woman who looked as if she were freezing in the March afternoon air. “The police held a press conference early this morning and gave a verbal sketch from a witness who might have seen the killer a couple of months ago. A tall, dark, black male with facial hair and grim expression. Here’s a statement from the homicide investigator in charge, Detective Avery who-”
Regina pressed mute on the television not wanting to hear something that depressive while she was going through her own misery and guilt. She looked at the dark caramel complexion man on the screen who was unusually handsome with grayish brown eyes that seem to pierce her. He was staring right at the camera and he didn’t look too happy.
Picking up the remote again, she was about to push the mute button to hear his voice, but the doorbell rung stopping her. She hurried and looked out the peephole to see Lisa standing there. Quickly opening the door, she rushed back in the living room to see the man again, but he wasn’t on the screen anymore. A little disappointed, she brushed the thought of ever meeting him out her head. He was a cop and he wouldn’t be interested in a prune like her.
“Well that’s a fine greeting,” Lisa said a little offended by the cold shoulder Regina seemed to have.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, Lisa,” she said offhandedly handing Lisa the keys to her car.
“Well, I came over so fast, because I got worried. When Grant told me they found the body of a girl who was just at my party last night I freaked because I thought it might be you.”
She hugged Lisa seeing the serious concern in her friend’s eyes. “It’s okay. I’m fine, girl.”
“I know boo, but you just don’t know how I would feel if something happened to you - especially in my car,” Lisa teased.
Regina pushed her playfully. “That’s not funny, Lisa,” she said trying her best to keep a serious expression to Lisa’s silliness.
“I mean I feel all bad for what has happened for this girl, but I’m really just glad it wasn’t you or me.” She gasped. “You think it could have been creepy neighbor?”
“Don’t start that again!” Regina insisted.
Innocently, Lisa asked, “Start what? Spouting the truth?”
“You’re talking crazy although I smelled him last night when I got in.”
Lisa gasped again, “What time?”
She shrugged unsure, “Probably past four as slow as I drove home.”
“Four? Grant said you booked out the club half past one.”
Regina frowned. “You had me watched?”
“Of course,” Lisa said obviously. “Your mother would have my head if something happened to her baby.” She changed the subject back. “Did you see him?”
“I couldn’t see a thing because you forget I’m blind at night.”
Lisa eyes widened as big as saucers and she flung her arms around Regina crying her apologies. “I totally forgot. I was thoughtless!”
Regina reassured her friend, “It’s okay, Lisa. I made it home slowly, but-”
“What the hell is that?”
She followed Lisa’s eyes, to the large love bite on the right side of her breast. Her robe had come partially opened and despite her dark mahogany skin, the purple reddish mark was very evident and very immense. Regina quickly moved away closing her robe.
“It’s nothing,” she lied.
“The hell it isn’t!” Lisa came around Regina and pulled her arms away. “That’s the biggest hickey I ever saw. Who the hell gave you that?!”
“I-I...please Lisa, I feel guilty enough about it.”
Lisa practically dragged Regina over to the couch. “What happened? You have to give me details girl.” She snapped her fingers in the air as if that would just make Regina start talking. “Did you follow my advice?”
Regina took a deep breath. She needed to speak to someone and she knew Lisa was probably the only one besides her mother she could trust with this information. Either way she was going to hell for what she had enjoyed. “Not exactly, Lisa. I had no intentions of doing anything you said.” Just thinking about what had happened with the complete stranger made her heart quicken.
“How was it?” Lisa asked to get her to talk.
Regina took Lisa’s hands in her own. “There are just no words to describe what that man did to me, Lisa. I have every reason to feel guilty.”
“But you shouldn’t if you had a good time. Please, Gina tells me. Did you meet him at the club?”
Regina shook her head. “I was driving slow as possible. There’s hardly any light-”
“Okay, I know how bad Detroit road’s are,” Lisa exasperated. “Get to the story, boo.”
“I got lost and the freeway was closed, so I had to drive down Milwaukee because I know your car can’t take that horrible bridge. In any case, I splashed water on him, and I felt so bad that I drove around the corner to see if he was okay. It was raining and he got in the car and...” She sighed. “I can’t explain. First we were talking - he thought I was you because he saw your business card and he kept calling me Lisa. I guess that’s why it was so easy to just...be you.”
“You go girl!” Lisa explained excitedly.
Regina didn’t feel as excited, but rather the opposite. “Lisa, how can you expect me to feel happy for something that was not to be enjoyed until after marriage.”
“I firmly believe it should not be indulged in until after marriage, but a girl like you needed to experience this for your own sanity, Regina. Now finish telling me,” she ordered.
“He asked me if I did intimate private parties and I told him yes. Next thing I know we’re on the side of the road and he kissed like magic and tasted so sweet.” She closed her eyes luxuriating on memories she had so enjoyed and leaning back on the couch. “He did things to my body with his hands and mouth...I couldn’t believe it, Lisa!”
“Can’t you give me even a little description?” Lisa asked.
“He was big.”
“You mean fat?”
Regina shook her head. “He was so muscular and brawny with these strong huge hands and his finger...dear Lord girl, he did this thing with his finger before we even did it.”
Lisa read her mind. “You had an orgasm on your first time!” She screamed.
She calmed her down. “And that was the first one because I had another one when we did it!”
Lisa screamed again falling back on the end of the couch.
Regina had to laugh at her friend’s genuine happiness for her.
Sitting up, Lisa hugged her. “This is so great. How did it feel?”
Her eyes rolled up in her head. “There are no words to describe how wonderful it was, Lisa. I was in heaven on earth. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“You don’t know how lucky you are,” Lisa said proudly. “There are very few women who can say their first time with a man was good.”
Regina groaned pulling the extra large pillow on the sofa over her face. Lisa pulled it away. “I’m going to hell in a hand basket, Lisa. I feel so guilty over what I did and if you think that’s the only passion mark I have then you’ve got another thing coming. That man’s mouth did things to me I didn’t know mouths could do.”
“And I bet he didn’t pull all stops out either,” Lisa mumbled under her breath.
“What do you mean by that?”
Lisa only shrugged with a wicked look in her eye patting Regina’s thigh in sympathy. “You don’t want to know. You might try to find him and do it.”
“I’m not doing that again until I’m good and married. Now I really now it can be addictive,” she said adamantly. “You can keep your problem to yourself from now on.”
Lisa chuckled. “What happened when it was over with?”
Regina shrugged. “He held me and thanked me for relieving his stress.”
“Oh shit! That is deep.”
“Then when I cleaned him, he was appreciative,” she continued.
“That always blows their mind. Usually women don’t pay attention to things like that,” Lisa said. “Did he know this was your first time?”
Disappointedly, she shook her head. “He didn’t notice, but I guess since we used protection, how could he?”
“Even without protection, girl, most of them don’t. Trust me, I lost my virginity about ten times.”
They both cracked up. Lisa could make her find the most serious thing amusing. When they had calmed down from their laughter, Lisa suggested they fly out to the mall and buy something to celebrate the loss of her virginity.
Winner gets a free book of Secrets, Lies & Family and when this book is released you'll be given a code to get a free book when I ship your initial book. (Must produce the code to get the book.)
Oh yeah, and of course you're greedily reading this trying to find some insight on Sex Weed then here it is...
I'm still working on it.
I've gotten to the part where she's still with Reed. I've introduced Mackenzie, who's like Tanner and will later appear in the story with Chance (from Sin's Iniquity). I had to hide Dyson who decided against turning himself in per Montgomery in Onyx's home, in which the only two people who know how to get in or out is Del and Onyx.
I'm debating as to which way to go with Melissa. Reed's a changed man, which has made it easier to write him, but I'm not sure if it's a facade and then there's the case that he had a hand in killing her sister and even though she hated Penelope (I hated Penelope too), staying there with him is not good when her heart belongs to Dyson. Yet, now Reed wants to give up the life and move out of Detroit. Dyson is on the run, but Melissa thinks he's in jail for her murder and the only thing to free her love is to get the digital tape to him. Yet, how can she do that if Reed keeps her locked her or closely guarded.
So that's where I am in Sex Weed. It's coming along slowly because of my event and they've (my job) has started to let me get on the computer more and do whatever I want to again, so hopefully by November, I'll be done and be able to offer it for free like I usually do and then go from there.
What's next for me?
Well, I'm finally going to wrap up Stealing Innocence III. The trouble was the secondary plot. It seriously sucked. Her (the heroine) really had no motive for the reason why the original case wasn't closed and the link to the present case that was causing Lethal the most trouble. I had gotten Lethal to get involved, but linking her to the case wasn't a good one. It seriously sucked and I wasn't happy, but once I found out what she really did - she had no profession until I found out what she did and now... oh man, you guys might really love Lethal after this. I said might because do you know how difficult it is to find a woman for that diffiicult man? And then I gotta get Onyx laid. Good lawd! If y'all could spend an hour in my head at night as I formulate these stories, you wouldn't sleep for a week.
'Nuf talkie, talkie. Okay, post your comments about the story and quit yelling at me about Sex Weed. I swear it's not another Dark Facade, although y'all just wait until a big book company picks me up and Dark Facade will be everywhere!!... i hope!!
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