by Tiana Laveen
Yet yesterday he’d spent the night and they ate breakfast together that morning, but there was no hanky panky. Highly unusual.
“Well?”
“Because I had an errand. I had business to take care of. You already know that.” She settled into her seat, perturbed. He snuck a few glances at her. “You don’t like that answer?” He smirked, clearly getting off on the fact she somehow felt slighted.
“No, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”
“Why would anything be wrong? Do you think because we’re engaged, I think I got cha, so I don’t have to satisfy you anymore? Why would ya think that?”
“I never said that. I just asked you a simple question.” She sucked her teeth as he chuckled. He tossed the cigarette out the window. “Damn it! What are you doing?” She white knuckled the dashboard and armrest as Angelo jerked the car to another lane, then pulled into a desolate back alley.
“Why are we in this damn alley where the drunks come? We’re going to be late for Aunt Bev’s party if we don’t get a move on.” He turned the car off but left the radio on, then quickly took off his jacket and reached for his zipper. ‘Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing,’ by Stevie Wonder, serenaded them. Her eyes were now glued to the big bulge beneath his slacks. “Angelo, nuh uh, we don’t have time for this.”
Death and destruction loomed in his powder blue eyes.
“You want some cock, baby? I’m gonna give ya some cock. Wanna suck it or get stuffed? Come here.”
She screamed when he pulled her to him by the damn wrist, then dragged her to the backseat while she clawed, kicked, and cursed. They tumbled against one another on the way, lips pressing against skin and fabrics, unable to breathe one minute, then gasping for fresh air in the next.
“Stop it, Angelo! Fuck you! Let me go!” Her tone was strong, yet her body ached for him and her eyes must be telling on her. The song changed to ‘Strawberry Letter 23,’ by The Brothers Johnson. He grabbed her jaw and stole a soul-snatching kiss.
“Lie to me again… tell me you don’t wanna shag.” He cupped her pussy hard, making her sigh and shudder from his very touch. “That’s what I thought…”
His breaths heavy, his gaze intense under long lashes, he gently caressed her face. She swallowed as her anxiety soared. She looked about in the dim light of the car, hearing the strange noises all around them from every direction.
In the meantime, the music played.
“I love ya. You know I’d do anything for you. If there’s something you want, Andrea, I’m going to get it for you. If there’s something you need, I’m going to do it for you. You wanted me this morning. You didn’t get it. Now you will. All of it. Every. Fuckin’. Inch.” His tone dripped in sex and loyalty, and she knew he meant every syllable. She fell back against the leather. Relenting. Releasing. Soon to be receiving. Before her back had even hit the cushion, he undid her jeans button, lowered the zipper, and pulled them down so fast, she was certain she’d have a fabric burn along her knees. Cool air touched her exposed skin, but she was soon enveloped in warmth when his muscular body covered her like armor.
His knuckles dragged against her stomach, then he coaxed her to open her thighs.
“Time to invade this pussy!”
“Shit!” She pushed his healing shoulder and bit into the side of his neck as he impaled her with his fat, long cock. He drove in and out of her as if he were mad at the whole damn world.
“Ahhh… baby, I’m home!” He moaned with pleasure. She grew wetter by the second, falling prey to her shameful fantasies that he seemed to know instinctively.
He grunted and growled like an animal, his voice rumbling in deep murmurs and low roars. She screamed out when he gripped the top of her head and buried his face against her cheek while he rocked his hips violently against her body. In and out he went, in circles, left to right, delivering blow after deep blow.
“You pretend to not want it… but then why’s your pussy so damn wet? Why’s it so fuckin’ wet, huh?!” Her body wracked with an orgasm as he rubbed his groin against her clit with each angry thrust. “You’re a dirty girl! A dirty fuckin’ woman! Beggin’ for my dick!”
“Angelo… please! Shit! Oh, God!”
“Nasty woman! My woman… Dirty, black magic woman! You fuckin’ wicked witch, with your wicked pussy! Did you predict me fuckin’ the hell out cha on the way to your aunt’s house?! Did you see in your crystal ball, my dick balls deep in this fuckin’ wet twat?!”
“No! No!” She shook her head as she licked her lips, holding on to him, demanding more.
“Caught ya like Little Red Riding Hood in the forest… You ran into the wrong motherfucker hiding in the woods tonight, now didn’t ya? Let’s see what’s in this goodie basket of yours, witch. Gotcha! ‘Oh, Grandma,’” he taunted in a feminine sounding voice. “‘What a big fuckin’ dick you have! Ummm!’”
The slapping sounds of his balls smacking the hell out of her pussy, echoing all around.
“Oh, baby! Oh God!” she cried. She rotated her hips, meeting him at each thrust, greedy for another taste of him. Another bit of his ruthlessness.
“Isn’t that what you want? SAY IT!” He fucked her impossibly harder. Faster. “ISN’T THIS WHAT YOU WANT, MY PRETTY WITCH?!”
“YES!”
“Mmmm!” He slammed hard into her again, forcing her back to arch and her toes to curl. Every muscle in her body froze up, until she was quaking, then limp beneath him, her temperature rising and falling uncontrollably. She began to lose count of how many times she’d cum. It had become a blur of euphoria… The shadows and lights in that back alley looked like dark angels flying all around. The car was parked between two tall brick walls and the darkening sky made her float somewhere murky and dangerous. With her lover on top of her, she gave in to her own lovely perversions. She was hopeless, enjoying how he was destroying her dignity.
She wrapped her hands around his shoulders, she brought him down and kissed him. He kept the pace, never slowing, tearing her to sweet little pieces.
“You want a motherfucker to take this pussy!”
“Yes I do! And you want to give me that big, nasty dick!”
“Punishin’ this pussy!”
“You freak of nature! You asshole! I hate to love you, and love to hate you!” He rose up from her a little, slid a hand around her neck, and fucked the living daylights out of her. She felt dizzy as her body propelled forward towards the door. All she could hear was the music, his groans of pleasure, and her own cries of ecstasy. The chemistry and intense connection between them soared to an entirely new level. The car rocked as he fought her pussy. Beat up her pussy. Wrestled that cat to the fuckin’ ground and showed no mercy to the pussy… “AHHH! SHIT! FUCK!”
She came once again as he tugged at her sweater, pulling it up, exposing her breasts from the confines of her bra. His warm mouth enveloped her right nipple. Licking. Sucking. The bastard was breathing hard, his nostrils flared, eyes closed as he squeezed her tit while devouring it, still pumping inside her for dear life.
“I can’t take anymore!” she yelled, lying to herself. She was spent, but her greediness for him drove her on. Angelo fucked her to depths that would make her sorry in the morning. The vein in his forehead bulged as he neared his climax. He let his body fall against hers again, squeezing her ass cheeks and forcing her to take his blows. A guttural grunt like a beast’s emitted from his mouth. Sweat dripped off his face onto her body. Soon, a flood of warmth filled her pussy as he blasted in and out of her like the ferocious monster that he was. He gasped for air, his hairy chest heaving. Lips parted.
They lay against one another, soaking wet with sweat, their hearts pounding, and the sounds of traffic audible in the distance. ‘People Make The World Go Round,’ by The Stylistics was now playing while they got themselves together. He’d managed to get some tissues from the glove compartment and handed her a few, allowing her to clean up his creamy cum that had run down her inner thighs. Moments lat
er, he helped her back into the passenger’s seat. Back in the driver’s seat, he put his shirt back in his pants and got his clothing in order.
He lit a fresh cigarette, handed it to her, and got back on the road. She looked down at her pretty engagement ring and smiled, then shook her head. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed. Then, they shared some easy banter. This man made her so happy.
“You have a nice smile, Angelo. I don’t get to see it all the time, but when I do, it makes me feel good.” She took a drag of the cigarette, then handed it back to him.
“You make a motherfucker want to smile. I didn’t have much of a reason to before I met you.”
It took about twenty minutes to get to her aunt’s apartment. As soon as Angelo parked the car, she could hear music pouring from the window, and people were even surrounding the building, dancing. These were strangers, uninvited, but everyone loved a party. Angelo got out of the car and opened her door. The forever gentleman. He then pulled out the present they’d gotten her aunt from the trunk. It was a blender, wrapped in pretty pink wrapping paper. She’d been wanting a new one for a long while. Angelo had put a card with cash inside the box, too. How sweet of him.
She skipped up the walkway, her heart light, and was drowned in cigarette smoke, the distinct aroma of fried chicken, and her cousin Jeremy’s infamous chili the moment they entered the place.
“Ahhh! Look who’s here, y’all?! Look who the cat dragged in!” Aunt Bev declared, cutting through the crowd wearing a pink off-the-shoulder sparkly shirt and tight pink pants. Her shoes looked like they were covered in diamonds, and she was just a picture of pink perfection. Red and pink balloons were all over the place, and the sounds of ‘What a Fool Believes’ by the Doobie Brothers filled the room. “It’s my baby, Andrea!” Aunt Bev announced, as if she were introducing some movie star.
Auntie hugged her so tight, then kissed her cheek. Family gathered around her and Angelo, hugging and kissing on her, too. It felt so damn good to be home. Angelo waited while she was loved on, and she didn’t miss how perplexed he looked. When she met eyes with him, she could see his forced smile, pretending all was well.
“What’s up, maaaan! This mothafucka looks familiar! What’s your name, brotha?” High ass cousin Troy said as he slapped hands with Angelo. Her love looked more relaxed now, his smile more authentic.
“Angelo.”
“Angelo… all right, all right. You’re Italian, ain’t you? You sho’ look it.”
“Yeah, I’m Italian. Are you Italian, too? Ya look it.” The two men sized each other up and burst out laughing.
“Niggas in Italy. Sounds like the name of a porno.” Troy chuckled before taking a swig of something in an unmarked dark bottle. While the guys got to talking, Aunt Bev pulled her close and whispered in her ear.
“I need to speak to you. Alone.”
Andrea searched her aunt’s face, then followed the woman to her bedroom. Aunt Bev locked the door. Guests’ coats were layered all across her bed, and as usual, her bedroom smelled like licorice, marijuana, and gardenia perfume. White and pale pink feathers were all around, and her vanity was covered in glass perfume bottles and cosmetics. The muted tones of, ‘That’s the Way of the World,’ by Earth, Wind & Fire, drifted inside the room.
“I don’t know who he is, never seen tha man a day in my life, but your cousin told me who ya damn boyfriend is, girl!” Here we go. “I was happy for you, braggin’ to people that you had a good man, a guy named Angelo Ferrari, and the damn looks I got coulda stopped traffic! Casper… His name is Casper, and I for one wish that mothafucka would just vanish, like the ghost he is. I’ve heard of him, girl, but never knew him. He is a cutthroat killa! Known to snuff someone out before they even know what hit ’em, and now, you’ve brought that monster in my house. At my birthday party of all places!”
“Aunt Bev, he’s not interested in being Casper at your party. You’re being dramatic and I know darn well you know all about men like him. Since you want to wind up the rumor mill, I am aware you dated a drug dealer named Jerome once, and he killed about five guys then—”
“We not talkin’ about me! You ain’t slick! He in here dressed in a damn black fur coat, lookin’ every bit like Tom Selleck if he were a pimp, and you’re tellin’ me that ten-foot mammoth murderer is in sales! He ain’t sellin’ shit but death and destruction.”
“I didn’t say sales. I said he takes surplus items and gets rid of them. It’s the truth… in a roundabout way.”
“Girl,” Aunt Bev waved a finger in her face, “you can stop playin’ these word games with me. I don’t give a hard fuck on an Oriental rug what the hell that man or you are saying he’s doing as a cover, but I know he’s a mothafuckin’ killa, and these Italians, the Blacks, the Puerto Ricans and everybody in between know who this mothafucka is, and they’re scared shitless! She said there’s a story about him pulling some mothafucka’s throat out with his bare hands, and tyin’ another mothafucka to some train tracks after writing ‘Choo Choo, I think I can!’ on his forehead!”
Andrea was certain she’d never heard her Aunt Bev say the word ‘motherfucker’ so many times in one day, one week, even one year.
“Satan sure is busy, because that man is standing there tall and proud, bold as shit, looking every bit of beautiful, like he don’t kill for a livin’. He’s out here taking lives like candy from a baby. I know the truth!”
Andrea crossed her arms.
“Okay.”
“Don’t you get smart wit’ me, girl.”
“All I said was ‘okay,’ Aunt Bev.” Her tone was shallow. Devoid of depth or concern. Andrea had expected this conversation to come about sooner or later. But it being sooner was not exactly ideal. Aunt Bev stood back, mirroring her stance, then broke out in a smile.
“Is it true? That’s Casper, isn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
“Hmph. Has he hurt you, baby? Has he ever threatened you? Tell me the truth. If you’re scared and have no way out, we’ll settle him right here, right now. He can’t take all of us.”
“All he’s done is love me, Aunt Bev. He’s never hurt me, and he never will.”
They glared at one another. Her aunt took a deep breath, then gently reached for her hand to inspect her engagement ring.
“My son is in prison for murder. I know we have that sort of thing in this family, Andrea, but what you got goin’ on takes it to a whole new level. When I dated that guy you brought up, I was young and stupid. It was right before I met your uncle. I’m concerned for your safety.”
“I understand. I’m safer with him than without him. I don’t expect you to understand, Aunt Bev, but I just know that in my heart. He loves me like I’ve never been loved before. He treats me the way all good women deserve to be treated. He’d turn the world upside down to help me, protect me, and anyone I love, too. Didn’t you once tell me to not judge a book by its cover? Didn’t you tell me there’s always more than meets the eye? I don’t approve of his lifestyle, either, Auntie, but I damn sure approve of the man.”
Her Aunt gently released her hand, and took a deep breath.
“You’re glowing. Are you pregnant, Andrea?”
The question startled her. Andrea touched her face, as if that would somehow reveal the truth. Then, she shook her head.
“Um, no… no. I take birth control, and I haven’t been late.”
Then the dreams flooded her brain. More dreams of the crying child had happened in the past few weeks. A mysterious baby that cried and cried. Her stomach churned. Oh my God…
Aunt Bev cocked her head to the side as if she weren’t quite certain she believed her.
“I’m serious. I’ve been having my period regularly, and I feel fine.”
The older woman wrapped her arms around her.
“The world is a strange place, baby. I had dreams for all of my children, including you, but you all are entitled to your own dreams. Your own ideas. Your own lives. I know you’re grown. Been grown for a l
ong time, but I still see you as my baby. The day your uncle brought you home, I looked into your big, pretty dark brown eyes, and kissed your sweet-smellin’ cheek, and I said, ‘Andrea, we don’t have much, but what we do have, we’ll share it with you.’”
“You had plenty. You and Uncle Ron had enough love for me to last me ten lifetimes.”
Aunt Bev teared up. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door.
“Comin’!” she yelled out. When she yanked the door open, there stood Nancy, her teenage grandchild, wearing a bright pink jumper and braids that went down to her behind.
“Grandma! Come on! They’re doin’ the Bus Stop and that White guy dancin’, too! He can boogie! You gotta see this, Grandma!” Laughing, the child grabbed Bev by the wrist and practically dragged her out. Andrea followed behind, her cheeks already heating with mirth. She’d already seen her baby in action too many times to count on the dance floor at various clubs, and in their respective homes. Angelo loved to dance and was damn good at it, too.
Aunt Bev started to clap her hands, cheering at the top of her lungs. She jumped in with the family, doing The Bus Stop dance as The Fatback Band tore it up through the speakers. Andrea joined in too, unable to resist. The whole living room was full of beautiful black and brown faces, with one tall white man standing in the middle of the crowd, the sight of him with her family like this making her giggle inside.
“Man, you funky! You all right wit’ me!” Aunt Grace quipped as she elbowed Angelo, showing all of her teeth. To her amazement, Angelo pulled Aunt Grace close and kissed her cheek.
“Now that’s a compliment I can’t ignore. Thank you, beautiful.”
This smooth motherfucker…
The music died down, and another song began to play. Andrea laughed and joked with her family, sipping glasses of punch and reliving the good ol’ days. ‘Remember that time’ tales went on and on, making her stomach hurt, she laughed so hard. It felt so good to be all together under one roof like this. It had been a while. Angelo stayed close by, taking it in stride when people teased him, yet welcomed him with open arms. Some people seemed to know exactly who he was, while others clearly did not. Regardless, no one acted strange towards him, and Angelo seemed to be having a damn good time, eating, dancing, joking around.