Fornication Volume One (Honey Dip)

by Julia Press Simmons

  "Wakey, wakey."

  George eyes popped open. He looked down at the tape across his chest and started to cry.

  "Aw, this is a sort of emotional experience, isn't it?" Peanut shrugged. "Ain't no shame in crying, my brother. Let it out."

  “Look, man, whatever that bitch told you I did to her, she’s lying. She is lying.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, man, I didn’t do anything to her.”

  Peanut raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t do anything to her?” He pulled a silencer out of his jacket pocket and attached to his gun. “You sure about that?”

  “Okay, I may have lied to her a little bit.”

  “A little bit?”

  “I may have led her to believe that she could see her daughter, but her daughter was out of town.”

  “And why would you do something like that?” Peanut asked raising his gun.

  “Whoa, calm down.” His hands began to tremble and he gripped the arms of the chair. He closed his eyes as sobs wracked his body.

  Peanut shot the floor beneath George’s chair.

  George’s body jerked. He sat upright and pissed himself.

  Peanut aimed his gun at George’s chest. “I asked you a question. Why would you do something like that?”

  “I wanted to fuck her, okay? I told her Tiana wanted to see her so I could fuck her.”

  “Did you fuck her?” Peanut asked, cocking the gun again.

  “No,” George screamed. “I didn’t fuck her. I made her suck my dick. You’re going to kill me because I made a whore suck my dick?” Spittle flew out the side of his mouth as he spoke. He trembled in a pool of his own piss and forced himself to look Peanut in the eye. He laughed as if his sanity was about to shatter. “Are you some kind of patron saint of tricks?”

  “No. I’m a nigga that was raised by prostitutes, five prostitutes in particular. One is like my mother, three are like sisters to me, and I happen to be in love with the fifth one. Can you guess who the fifth one is?”

  George cried harder.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He put the gun down and pulled a pair of pliers out of his pocket, stood up and walked over to George. “Calm down, nigga. Did I say I was going to kill you?”

  George shook his head no.

  “That’s right.” Peanut grabbed George’s head and pushed it back. “I said I was going to make you bleed.” He forced his mouth open with the pliers and yanked a tooth out. George’s screams echoed throughout the room.

  Chapter Nine

  Honey hung up the line with the owner of the Riverview Hotel. “Everything is set,” she said to Roger, handing him his cell phone. “This party is going to be so tight. I’ve got live entertainment, the best caterers and a penthouse suite. Portia is going to love it. Thank you so much, baby. I really couldn’t have handled any of this without you.”

  Roger grabbed Honey’s waist and let has hands slip down to cup her ass. “I’d do anything for you, Honey,” he said, squeezing her. “Anything!”

  Honey cringed inside. She put her head down to avoid the intensity in his eyes. She was used to regulars being infatuated with her; she even thought one or two may have fallen in love with her, but this obsession Roger had with her was creepy and getting a little hard for Honey to deal with.

  “What’s the matter, baby? You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said softly. She cleared her throat and pushed him away gently. Pull it together, Honey, she thought. You aren’t going to have to put up with him much longer. She gave him a seductive look and put her hands on her hips.

  “Take off your clothes and get on the bed. I’m going to go freshen up.” She gave him a smile. “In a few minutes I am going to show you just how okay I am.”

  Roger giggled with delight. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his dick. “You don’t know how bad I want you.” He was breathing heavy and staring at her like she was going to be his last supper.

  I have an idea, Honey thought as she grabbed the bottle of wine off the nightstand. “I want you just as bad as you want me, daddy,” she said as she walked into the bathroom. Once inside, she sat the bottle on the sink, plopped down on the toilet and sighed. I just wanna go home, she thought as she pulled off her dress. She took her heels off and messaged her feet. If I had to pick between getting raped by the cops again or sleeping with Roger, I’d call 911. She turned on the shower and hopped in not really needing to wash off, just wanting the soothing hot water to beat on her skin. Dealing with Roger required a lot of energy because she could tell that he wasn’t quite right. He is more than little off, she thought, as she ran the tiny bar of hotel soap across her skin and rinsed off. You can’t stay in here all night, Honey, so ya best stop stalling.

  She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Peanut popped in her head as soon as she did it. She smiled and slipped her shoes back on. He’s turning out to be a sweet young man. An image of him shirtless lifting weights in the back yard popped in her head as she dropped the towel. A very handsome, very sweet young man.

  She took the wine bottle to the head, taking huge gulps until it was nearly empty. A warm buzz rushed through her system. Steam fogged up the mirror. Honey started to wipe it off but she didn’t feel like looking herself in the eye quite yet. She had no idea where Roger got all that cash. “Don’t go there, Honey,” she mumbled. “That’s not a good place to be.”

  “You okay, baby?”

  “I’m fine, daddy, I’m coming out now.” She took another swallow of the wine. “Game on,” she said, looking at her blurry reflection. She walked back into the bedroom wearing nothing but her heels and a smile.

  Roger sat up and looked at Honey as if she were the second coming. “Damn, you are beautiful,” he said, stretching his hands out to her. His eyes drank her in from the water beading through her hair to the tips of her shiny black stilettos. He was ramrod hard and could not wait to slip inside of her.

  Honey walked into his embrace. She took another swig of wine while he groped and squeezed her. He gripped her waist and licked and kissed her navel.

  “I want you so bad. I’ll do anything you want me to do. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

  Honey bit her lip and let out a soft, seductive moan. His touch made her skin crawl. She ran her hands up his shoulders and cupped his face. “Anything I want?”

  “Yes,” he said breathlessly.

  “Okay,” Honey said before prying his fingers off of her waist. “Lie back on the bed and spread your arms and your legs.” He did as she asked instantly and without question.

  She walked over to the bags in the corner and pulled out the silk scarves that she’d planned on giving Portia as a gift. Roger watched every move she made as if he was scared she was going to disappear into thin air.

  The intensity of his stare made goose bumps rise up on her arms and legs. Keep it together, Honey, she thought as she walked back over to the bed. She laid the scarves on the bed beside Roger. “Anything I want?” she asked again.

  “Anything,” he whispered.

  Honey picked up a pink scarf and ran it against the length of his body. She grabbed his wrist and wrapped the scarf around it. Roger looked apprehensive but said nothing. Honey tied his limbs tightly to all four bed posts. “Are they too tight?” she asked.

  He tried to free himself and winced.

  “You okay?” Honey asked climbing up on the bed.

  He laughed nervously. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Nothing,” Honey said, “nothing at all.” She propped a couple of pillows under his head. “I am going to give you a little show.” She straddled him and his eyes lit up.

  “You want me to ride it?”

  He nodded yes, but she shook her head no.

  “Please,” he begged.

  Honey winked at him before sitting back between his legs. “Don’t beg, Roger. That’s not sexy. Can you see me?” She asked
leaning back on her elbows and cupping her breasts. She pinched her nipples and licked her lips. “Can you see me?” She was dryer than the Sahara, because she was just not into it. Hopefully if I play with myself a little bit, I can get this kitty wet enough to want this, she thought.

  She extended her legs in the air slowly flexing her toes to points. Roger looked up at her heels and then down at her sweet spot. “Oh, my God,” he said with a grunt.

  She licked her fingers and slipped her hands down between her legs. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers part her lips and lightly rub over her clit. Okay, Honey, think of something hot enough to get these juices flowing. Without warning, a vision emerged of Peanut sweating in the backyard, lifting weights, shirtless. Her hand froze and her eyes popped open. She didn’t know how to handle that sudden jolt of lust for her friend. She shook her head to clear her mind and tried to focus on the matter at hand. Roger was biting his bottom lip, moaning and pulling at the scarves.

  “You’re killing me, Honey.”

  “Stop whining.” She grabbed his wood and squeezed it gently.

  He hollered out like a female and Honey felt like she wanted to throw up. She leaned over and grabbed the box of condoms off of the night stand. She needed to get this over with as quickly as possible. She ripped open the package with her teeth and the image of Peanut returned, making her pulse jump and her temperature rise.

  This time she didn’t fight it.

  She climbed up on Roger, turned around and sat on his face. Roger stroked her clit with his tongue and Honey shivered. She remembered the feeling of Peanut’s arms around her, and imagined it was his wood that she was slipping the condom on.

  Roger’s tongue game was wicked and it did not take Honey long to lose herself in the sensation. She tucked her hips in allowing him full access to what he craved. She stroked him, imagining it was Peanut. Lust took over and she lifted up off of his face before she came and was no longer interested in performing the service that he just spent a lot of money acquiring.

  

  Denise sat in the car staring at the hotel room that her husband and his whore disappeared into. Tears mingled with the sweat on her face. She set the gun on her lap and smoothed her hair back. Images of her husband sweating on top of her with his eyes closed and his forehead wrinkled danced through her head. “He was concentrating real hard, probably thinking about that bitch.”

  Her hands trembled. She held them in front of her face as if she could will them to be still. Pain sliced through her gut. “No, un-uh, he wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t do this to us.” She sobbed, shaking her head in disbelief.

  She balled her hands into fist and crossed her arms under her breasts, rocking back and forth as the thought of him on top of another woman entered her mind’s eye. The visions flicked through her head like a slide show. “Start the car, Denise. Start the car and go home. He doesn’t love you. He d-d-doesn’t want you.” She gripped the steering wheel and leaned her head against the window. “He doesn’t love you, Denise, he never did.” She repeated those words over and over again as the life she shared with Roger played over in her head. Their wedding, their home, their children; those things no longer meant anything to him. She’d known for months. She’d suspected, but would not let herself believe it. She put her hand on the key in the ignition. She was going to go home. She wiped her face and took a deep breath. Digging inside of her pocket book, she pulled her cell phone out and called her sister.

  “Danielle, hey. I need you to pick the kids up for me. What? Yeah everything is cool. I just have to get my prescription refilled and I completely forgot. Can you take them to your house? Thank you so much. I’ll be by to get them as soon as I can.”

  I’m not leaving here without my fucking husband. She hopped out of the car. The housekeeper on the second level had abandoned her cart. She raced up to it and snatched the keycard off of the paper towels.

  Denise went numb. Her breaths came in cool short bursts as she walked down the steps and entered the hall that led to her husband’s hotel room. She stopped in front of the door, pulled the gun out of her pocket, and slipped the keycard through the lock. The light turned green and she pushed the door open slowly.

  Roger was tied up on the bed, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes closed and mouth open, releasing groans of pure sexual satisfaction. The woman he was with was crouched over, riding him. Neither of them noticed her walking into the room.

  Denise watched them silently. Her heart felt enormous pressure, as if an invisible hand had reached inside her chest and attempted to squeeze the life out of her. She trembled from head to toe. Every detail of the woman’s body burned itself into her psyche, from the taut muscles of her legs to the pimples on her ass and the arch in the small of her back. Tears blurred her vision. Snot ran into her mouth from her nose. Her stomach cramped violently and she had to swallow hard to keep the bile down that rose up into her throat. “Get off of my husband, you bitch.”

  

  Honey stopped mid-stroke. She jumped off of Roger and turned to see the source of that scream. The woman looked like something out of a horror movie. Honey backed up to the head of the bed.

  “Denise, what the fuck are you doing here?” Roger shouted. The look of bliss on his face was replaced with unbridled rage.

  “Denise,” Honey said. Her eyes darted between Roger and the gun in the woman’s hand. “As in your wife, Denise?”

  “Yes, bitch, as in his wife, as in the mother of his children, as in the sponsor of your little shopping spree.”

  “Is that my gun?” Roger asked and Honey looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

  She leaned over to snatch one of the pillows from under his head. She wanted to cover up. Her body had grown ice cold, and her nerves were shot.

  “Shut up,” Denise screamed at Roger. “You shut your fucking mouth.” She shifted the gun to Honey. “If you untie him, I swear to God, I swear on my life that I will shoot you in the fucking heart.”

  Honey froze before her hands reached the pillow. She knew crazy when she saw it and she could tell that this woman was completely off her rocker.

  Roger tried to sit up in the bed, but the scarves kept him securely in place. “What you’re gonna do is put my gun down, go the fuck home, and take care of our kids.”

  “Oh, you care about our kids?” She shook the gun at him. “You don’t care about anything but your motherfucking self.” She looked around the room for the shopping bags that she watched them haul into the room earlier. “You don’t give a fuck about me or our children.” She walked over to the bags and kicked them over. A small jewelry box fell out of the bag and rolled over by the television.

  Honey’s heart leaped into her throat when that box rolled onto the floor. What the fuck is that? she thought. She held her breath as she watched Roger’s wife bend down to pick it up.

  “Is this what I think it is?” she asked softly, holding thing the box out towards Roger and Honey.

  Honey looked confused and Roger clamped his mouth shut. Denise used her thumb to flip the lid of the jewelry box, revealing a very large, very expensive looking engagement ring.

  “You planning on marrying this whore?”

  Roger jaws clenched defiantly.

  “Answer me!” she screamed. She threw the ring at Honey. It bounced off of her thigh and landed on the bed between them.

  Roger looked from the ring on the bed to his wife and he laughed. Laughed. “Yes, I’m going to marry her. I love her, Denise. She’s everything you could never be.”

  Honey shook her head in disbelief.

  Denise said nothing. She pointed her gun at Roger’s head and squeezed the trigger. The bullet went straight between his eyes. She pointed the gun at Honey and cocked it again. “I l-l-oved him,” she sobbed. “He was everything t-t-to me.”

  Honey closed her eyes and hid her face beneath her arms.

  Denise put the gu
n in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

  Honey’s eyes shot open when she heard the gun go off. She opened her eyes and saw Roger’s wife slumped on the floor in front of the TV. “Jesus,” she said, staring at the body. Honey froze in shock. “Who does that? Who fucking does that?” A full minute went by with Honey sitting motionless.

  She rose up off the bed slowly. Her heart pounded in her chest. Fat, angry red hives rose up on her skin. She stumbled over to the table in the corner, opened a bottle of vodka and took two quick swigs. She grabbed a dress out of one the bags and slipped it on without bothering to rip off the tags. Her hands shook as she pulled her phone out of her pocket book and called Peanut.

  “Hello,” said his deep voice through the phone.

  “He’s dead, she shot him.”

  “Who’s dead?”

  “Roger is dead. His wife shot him and then shot her fucking self in the head.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The Dorian Inn on Roosevelt.” Her voice shook and she swigged from the bottle.

  “Torch the place, Honey. I’ll be there in five minutes. Be down the street!”

  Honey shut the phone and doused the entire room with vodka. She tore the shower curtains from the rod and poured vodka over them, as well. She took the money out of Roger’s pocket and lit a cigarette. Flicking it on the bed, she looked sadly at Roger and his wife before leaving the room. She walked down the hall and pulled the fire alarm before crossing the parking lot and getting into Roger’s truck. She was driving down the street before she remembered the clothes in the hotel room.

  “I need a new fucking line of work.”

  Chapter Ten

  Honey leaned against the traffic light, trembling. The image of Denise shooting her husband and then herself played over and over in her mind in a seamless loop. She looked at the bushes longingly. She wanted so much to disappear and melt into them, but she knew she couldn’t. She watched the cop cars and fire trucks speed down the boulevard to the hotel she’d just set on fire. It was too dark for her to play hide and seek with Peanut. She needed to stay in the light so that he could spot her when he drove up, which she hoped was very soon because her heart leaped up in her throat every time she saw a hooptie drive by. Come on, Peanut, she thought, you said five minutes.