Sweet in the Middle
Page 11
That was not happening.
Nor meat.
Occasional indulging, he could handle.
Before Eris could even respond, her phone rang for the umpteenth time that night.
Lo and behold, it was her mama.
“Hello?” she answered while putting the call on speaker.
“Eris Costello, I know you been seeing me calling you. You know I hate it when you do that. I be thinking that something has happened to you.”
“Wassup, ma?”
“Aht-aht. Don’t be tryna use no damn tone with me. You know what I want. Today is your granddaddy’s birthday dinner and you better be at this house in the next thirty minutes. Stop and get me some more aluminum foil on your way too. I expect to see you and on time, young lady.”
Eris cocked her head back when the call disconnected, stunned like hell that her mama straight hung up on her.
“Did she just?”
“Yeah, boo, she did,” Paris instigated.
Eris gripped the edge of his marble countertop, closed her eyes, and inhaled until she was forced to damn breathe.
This was a setup and she knew it.
Her mama was using her grandfather’s birthday as an excuse to corner her, and this is why she always ran.
Eris hated when people tried to single her out. Her whole family was gonna try to do that shit to her tonight, and it did nothing but trigger her anxiety. The last thing she wanted to do was have to whoop somebody’s ass, but it looked like she didn’t have a damn choice.
“You want me to roll wit’ you?”
P was so sweet, inevitably forcing her to smile. Yet, she shook her head no.
“I’ve gotta do this on my own, remember?” Her voice was soft.
P smiled.
“That’s my bitch. I was just testing you. Even though you know I love to come to y’all’s events. The Costellos is more entertaining than Love & Hip Hop and Keeping Up With The Kardashians put together. Yo’ granny a muthafucka. I love that damn lady.”
Eris giggled, mentally agreeing. Her granny was off the chain, and that was mild compared to what she was about to face.
“Uuuuuugggggh!” she groaned out loud, feeling just like JoAnn Staten on Overboard when her husband told her that he wanted her tonight. She knew she wasn’t in the mood to deal with her family, but here goes nothing. “Wish me luck.”
She pulled her car keys from out her MCM tote and put her hat back on. It was a little nippy out.
“Girl, fucking FaceTime me when you get there. The fuck?”
Eris joined him in laughter.
“Why? So you can sit on the phone looking at us all crazy like that Safaree Gif of him eating that dry ass lettuce?”
“Bitch, exactly!” P kissed her lips as he held the front door open for her. “Smoke you a blunt on the way there,” he suggested.
“Oh, trust me. You know I will.”
*SITM*
Eris walked through her granny’s front door high as a damn kite. She’d even gone as far as stopping at the bar for a top-shelf Long Island to set her mood just right. Shorty was on a cloud with low, red eyes. The ponytail high on her head displayed her beautiful face and current elevation like a sore thumb, but she ain’t give no fuck. Dealing with her judgmental ass family was enough in itself, so what was one more point against her?
“Hey, Eris, baby.”
“Hey, granddaddy!” she cheered while wrapping him up in a bear hug. Her granddaddy was nice and plump and gave the best hugs. “Happy birthday, old man. Can’t believe you’re eighty years young today.”
“Who told you that?” he teased.
“Granddaddy, I pick up your medication every month. You forgot that I have to give them your birthday each time?”
“You sho’ right,” he admitted with a laugh. “Thanks for coming. You’re still beautiful as ever.”
“Thank you, granddaddy. You look good, yourself. Where’s your crazy wife?”
Granddaddy Costello waved the mention of his wife off as he playfully rolled his eyes.
“In the kitchen.”
Her irises hung low on the walk down the hall until she reached the black and daisy, color-coordinated eatery that her granny had recently redesigned for the season. Almost all of their immediate family was in attendance: her mama, her pregnant sister, her two aunts and their husbands, and her blood uncle, Pearson. Plus, his twenty-one-year-old twin daughters.
“Wassup, everybody?” was her greeting as she sat her granddaddy’s gift, the large bottle of Rosé wine, and other ingredients for her famous Strawberry Sangaritas they always asked her to make, on the counter.
Her big sister, Rocsi, was burning a hole in her ass.
Her granny sat at their round, white-marble breakfast bar sucking her thumb and scratching her scalp.
Her mama wore a quirky grin on her face.
Her daddy was out of town on business.
Her aunts were ready for the tea.
The twins were motioning for her to come outside and smoke, and her uncles were too busy watching the game with their backs turned to the kitchen, tuning everyone out.
“Hello, Eris.”
“Ma, don’t start, please?”
“No, let’s start. You already know what we need to talk about, so don’t even do all that,” Rocsi interjected.
“Yes, I date women, too. What more is it that needs to be discussed, big sister?”
An awkward silence engulfed the atmosphere.
Eris was thankful that she was already lit. While everybody just sat there looking dumb as hell, yet most of all, appalled by her blunt response, she removed her coat, washed her hands, and fixed her a plate of the alfredo stuffed shells that her granny made.
Maybe she should show up high to her family functions more often?
“So, you out here bumping and licking pussy, Eris?” her granny frankly asked.
“Don’t start all that. Y’all leave that girl alone. She can do whatever she wants to do. You being messy,” Granddaddy scolded his wife.
“Was I talking to you, Grady?”
As you can see, special occasions meant nothing for the Costellos. If anything, it was a legit reason to turn the fuck up.
And while Eris appreciated her granddaddy for trying to step in and revert the direction of where things were headed, for once in her life, she was armed and ready for conflict.
After Grady and the other men retreated downstairs to the grand television room, the focus was now back on Eris, and Rocsi took the floor again.
“So, you gay, E?”
“Yes, Rocsi.”
They looked one another in the eye, two seconds off each other. Eris and her sister honestly loved the shit out of one another, but that Homosexual/LGBT shit grinded Rocsi’s gears. She didn’t knock people for who they were, but neither was she a supporter.
“But, why? I mean, how?” her mama had finally spoken.
“Because I want to be,” Eris snapped. “I don’t see what the big fucking deal is. It’s my life, not y’alls.”
“Girl, you better watch it. I know that.”
“Look, I’m sorry for the disrespect, ma, but y’all the ones who in here tryna gang up on me. How else do you expect me to react?”
“So, let me guess. You knew you was gay ever since you was a little girl?”
Eris wanted to knock that damn sneering ass smile off her granny’s face so got damn bad. She was tryna be funny, but instead of taking it there, she took it up to a better notch.
“Yup, ever since I was ten when your brother’s son and daughter raped me one day when I spent the night.”
It was drop-dead quiet except for the microwave in the background warming up her food.
Eris was so damn calm that it made her laugh out loud as she observed their faces.
“Y’all funny.”
“You lying,” her granny spat.
“What?!” her mama shrieked.
“Eris, are you for real?” Rocsi’s tone had changed. She e
ven had tears in her eyes.
“Look.” Eris licked the tips of her fingers, pleased with the temperature of her food before she continued. “It’s not a big deal to me now and it wasn’t then. I’m twenty-seven-years-old and I’ve accepted it. It didn’t traumatize me and make me hate everybody. It made me like sex from both men and women from a very young age. Which, explained a few things for me too.”
She was referring to her masturbation addiction while they were contemplating over her homosexuality. Well, being bisexual, but where was the lie?
“And what we not gon’ do,” she continued. “Is sit here and converse over a man that’s in prison serving a life’s sentence and a woman who’s dead. I’ve put it behind me, but since y’all just had to press for the truth and try to crack off on me, there you have it. Yes, I was dating Emery. You did see pictures of me cuddled up with her wearing some sexy shit on social media. Shocking.” She raised her arms and used her hands to emphasize her smart-aleck remark. “And don’t worry about my son. I’m his mama, and trust and believe that this don’t make me any less of that—I’ll make the drinks after I’m done eating. If you need me in the meantime, I’ll be downstairs with granddaddy and ‘nem. Y’all could’ve at least waited on me to sing happy birthday and cut the cake. I wasn’t that late.”
Sometimes, you couldn’t even argue with people. You just had to lay ya’ cards out on the table and play what was in your hands. In Eris’ case, she won the game by a boot.
What they expected her to do was to cry, then beg for their acceptance, ask them to have the pastor pray over her, and leave. The last thing they expected was for her to be so open, comfortable, and accepting to her life and her past.
It was almost too fucking uncanny to be true, but why would she lie about being negatively affected when she was content with who she was?
“The sun don’t set the same ‘less you’re watching it go down with me,”
-Justin Bieber
8
One month later and Eris was still ambivalent about how to feel.
Her mind kept ricocheting from being boggled to blank ever since this shit unfolded.
Between the nonstop phone calls from her mother and sister to social media, Eris damn near had to put out a missing person’s report on herself to find peace.
Bucky’s bi-polar text messages and voicemails had yet to cease. One minute, she was apologizing about her actions and swore it was the liquor talking. Then the next, she was still in her feelings because Eris was not only ignoring her, but she’d been solid about keeping their distance.
Royce had been back on this “generosity” phase, sending a thousand dollars here, three thousand dollars there; edible arrangements and her favorite foods were being delivered to her front door and her job. All as a sad ass display of his sympathy, tryna buy her forgiveness.
She desperately needed some head.
To be touched.
She was going nuts.
Her vibrator nor her dildos just wasn’t doing the trick.
It was strange being home without Em.
She damn near bombed her last project in school and was thankful that her professor gave her the chance to redo it. Considering everything she’d been battling these last four weeks, it was the least that he could do. Eris was one of his best students and the last thing her professor wanted to do was fail her.
Had it not been for her daily conversations and Marco Polos with Brendan, something a little stronger than weed would’ve been needed.
Hell, the woman saw how people reverted to hard drugs.
Life was fucking brutal!
But instead of going off the deep end, she found herself at Happy Hour Bar & Grill taking down Long Islands to numb her insides.
Her plump lips were wrapped around the straw of drink number four when she felt someone kiss the side of face.
Chile, she damn near set that bitch off until she made eye contact with the last person she expected to see.
“Boy! You almost got your ass chewed the fuck out! What you doing in town and ain’t tell me?!” she hollered over the music.
Eris stood to her feet and wrapped her free arm around his neck while holding onto her drink with the other.
“I texted you fifteen minutes ago,” he expressed while peppering kisses to her neck.
She smelled so fucking good, whatever it was that she was flaunting.
He kept one arm around her waist and showed her their message thread with his free hand.
Maverick: I see ya’ thong, Big Mama. *rebel emoji*
Eris turned red in the face, not knowing she’d been giving everyone at the lounge a nice showcase of her black, laced, Target special. They’d really stepped their game with their plus-sized panties, honey.
“It took you fifteen minutes of staring at it to say something?!” she exclaimed with a wide smile.
“I’m drinking just like you are, ma. You know I love the view of this ass you got.”
Her clit caught a wave of spasms when Maverick reached down and gripped her left ass cheek.
Had he not been a cruise ship director and worked all year around for a few popular cruise ships such as the Royal Caribbean, Maverick probably would’ve been her damn husband years ago. They met during one of her “off-again” segments with Royce. She’d taken Brendan on a last-minute cruise with her mama and sister. What was supposed to be a one night stand to get her ex off her brain, turned into a six year fuck-fest that they’d both enjoyed.
Maverick was six-foot-two with fawn-colored skin, had a mouth full of golds that was surrounded by insanely plump lips, and housed a mesmerizing pair of brown eyes. His resemblance to the old Cash Money production band member, Juvenile, was uncanny. The last thing she expected to see on the Royal Caribbean was a hood ass, and now, thirty-nine-year-old nigga like himself. She just knew there had to be more to the story, and shit made a lot more sense for her when she learned that he smuggled counterfeit products and drugs into the states for the cartel he was associated with.
In other words, he was hood certified, could rap “Rodeo” to her any fucking day of the week, and harbored a piece of salami that tore her pussy to shreds whenever he was deep in them floodgates.
“How long are you here?” she spoke into his ear, simultaneously nibbling on his earlobe.
A quirky smile pulled at the left corner of his mouth as he felt his dick grow. Eris got freak-ho, slut-bucket, freak-nasty on the dick for him. When they first started fucking, he thought it was the thrill from her stepping out on Royce (yup, she eventually cheated too since her BD wasn’t shit) that kept her pussy so wet and his semen down her throat.
But nah, his bitch was just nasty. Having the opportunity to fuck her again after ten months since business had been booming, infested his brain when he realized that he’d be catching a quick flight out to the Lou.
“Until 4 A.M. My flight leave at seven.”
“Then what we waiting on?”
Shorty wasn’t saying shit but a word. Maverick covered both of their tabs, tipped their waitresses, and followed behind her, back to the city to her crib.
This is exactly what she needed.
This type of sexual ravishment with no strings attached.
Maverick didn’t pressure her and neither did she pressure him.
She and Brendan cruised for free whenever their hearts desired, and her old man laid the pipe then, and whenever he was in town. Their understanding made the sex so much fucking exciting, and Eris was glad she stepped out tonight.
He would’ve called her regardless, but eating and drinking on someone else’s dime was always a win.
Maverick bit down on his bottom lip and held onto Eris’ wet chin as she snaked her neck along his rod. She was so fucking sexy down on her knees, eating that dick like she’d been suffering from addict-like withdrawals. Saliva trickled out the sides of her mouth, real nasty, just the way he liked it, while her hands played with his balls.
A deep, “Shit,” flew out his mo
uth when she glided her tongue down to his sack and inhaled them while she stroked his wood.
Maverick was up on his toes, gripping her fucking hair for dear life as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
She made sucking dick look so fucking easy, yo’.
“Fuck, girl…”
She ain’t have to gobble the dick up in one bop like that.
She ain’t have to inhale all nine-point-five inches of his thick and meaty solider and hold him down her throat while he plunged into her damn stomach—St. Louis voodoo at its finest!
This is exactly why he was so fucking hooked on her young, fine, and juicy ass.
Maverick felt his dick draining in a matter of minutes. Even with a full mouth, she continued to swallow and work her throat muscles until he fell back on the couch to settle his sudden dizziness. He was far from a junky, but he did pop a jigga knowing he’d be digging in her guts until it was time for his flight. It didn’t take long at all for his dick to brick back up.
He gripped Eris by the waist as she climbed on top of him and mounted the dick. Something about the way her big, fine ass looked straddling and bucking against his mans drove him wild. He loved how her titties bounced, how her ass clapped against his thighs, how cute it was when her belly jiggled, the way her thighs created waves each time she came down on his wood.
Whenever she rode his dick in this particular position: feet planted on the edge of the couch for the greatest support, them tight pussy walls worked his shaft like a piston on its highest setting.
He’d fucking beg her stop and slow her ass down—as he was doing now, but it was no use.
Maverick had a dick that fit her tunnel with perfection. The way it pulsated against her ripe and honey coated crevices made her body shutter.
“Well, do that shit then, Big Mama.”
She smiled.
For some strange reason, Eris loved it when he called her that.
It was so sexy in her opinion.
Especially when she watched him bite down on his bottom lip. Just to whistle at the sight of her pussy working his dick while he repeatedly placed forceful smacks to her ass.