Smoke and Mirrors

by Tiana Laveen

  “No, baby, it doesn’t work like that. I pay you, honey.” She grabbed her white and black snakeskin purse from the side of the bed, pulled out a crisp fifty-dollar bill, waved it as if it were a treat for a dog, and tossed it on his bare chest. Then she turned and walked the hell out of the room, her heels clicking behind her.

  Brent lay there, the money held tightly in his palm. He looked back up at the ceiling fan, falling into a trance, one now filled with sorrow and self-pity. He now understood the game, and how it was played. It was his first lesson in Pimpology 101, and he’d failed the exam…

  *

  “NO!” SHE GIGGLED, falling flat on her bare stomach as the pillow soared through the air. “I want to know what you’re doing!”

  Smoke looked at her long and hard; she was truly laying it on thick. He then took a gander at his clothing sprawled all over the floor of his gray and burgundy bedroom.

  “I’m undressed now though, baby. I’ll take you another time.” He slicked a cigarette out of the pack and put it to his lips.

  “You need to get re-dressed then.” She slid off his bed, her gorgeous naked body taking half the wine sheets with her.

  “That’s my private time. I give you your private time, don’t I?” He tilted his head to the side and lit his cigarette, then blew a cloud of smoke out the side of his mouth as his eyes narrowed on her.

  “No, actually you don’t.” She smirked.

  He thought for a moment, placed his hand on his hip.

  “I guess you’re right. Anyway, doesn’t matter.” He shrugged and took a seat at the foot of the bed, blowing rings of smoke as he stared at himself in the mirror and massaged his shoulder. “A man needs his time alone.”

  “Oh really?” She raised a brow. “You have been the one harassing me, not the other way around. As soon as I got in today, who called me talking about, ‘Go to my house and wait for me’? And yesterday, when I was supposed to go out to lunch with Tasha and discuss some business with her, who called acting all jealous, demanding that it turn into a trio, Mr. Third Wheel?”

  He slicked his tongue over his bottom lip. “That happened hours ago, baby… Why are you bringing up old shit?” He burst out laughing as another pillow soared towards his head. He ducked in the nick of time, then searched for his ashtray to rest his rollup in. Getting to his feet, he grabbed the ashtray and snuffed his cigarette.

  “All right, we’ll go. Get some clothes on.” He took a deep breath, bent low, giving himself a slight head rush, and began to pick up his clothing to redress.

  “I just realized something. I rarely see you smoke. What do you do, like one cigarette a day or something?” she asked as she slid her blue jean capris up her curvy yet petite body. “We must have that in common, but mine is like once a week, if that.”

  “I’m a casual smoker. I don’t get addicted to shit…’cept for you.” He winked at her, causing her to roll her eyes and smile simultaneously. “Hurry up, Pussycat. I invited you over here to fuck. It’s been like two damn days. But now you want to waste time at a cellphone waiting lot.” He grinned at her while she paid him no mind. “But my Pussycat has made a request, so I will grant her wish, give her what she wants just as I promised I would…”

  “Awwww!” she teased. “Aren’t you so sweet?” He nodded as his eyes hooded.

  “’Cause when Pussycat’s happy,”—he smirked and blew out more rings of smoke—“So is her man…”

  *

  “…BEEN HERE MY whoooole life, and never knew you could see the planes this close from here. Oh my God, Smoke. This is incredible! I can’t wait to see one from this vantage point.” She leaned back on the passenger’s side, tilting the seat as far as it would go so she could look up into the dusky sky, her arm propped behind her head.

  “Yup. As soon as I got my first car when I turned sixteen, it was the chief thing I sought out to do. I was looking around for a spot where the police wouldn’t bother me, and I could see 747s all day. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “It is…it really is,” she said dreamily.

  He looked at her for a moment, his thoughts tangling together like yarn. The woman perplexed him, but in a good way. At times transparent, at others a mystery. As he sat there with her, under those stars and the planes flying past, bits and pieces of a life he’d left behind began to drift back to him, but this time, it didn’t make him want to brandish a bloody razor blade—no, he wanted to pluck the shit up from the ground, like a gorgeous, blood red rose.

  “Hey, baby, let me ask you something.”

  “Yeah…” She kept her eyes to the sky, a beatific smile on her perfect face.

  “You ever think about getting out of the life, like, just saying ‘fuck this’, and moving on?” He threw his hands up, as if to say, ‘The hell with it.’

  She craned her neck in his direction, her brows bunched in thought, then her expression softened.

  “Well, not really. I mean, yeah, sometimes.” She huffed in frustration. “I honestly don’t know, Smoke. I’m good at this!” She laughed lightly and shrugged, but he knew that damn look…he knew it all too well. She had thought about it, but fear stopped her.

  “You could do all sorts of things, I think…” He lay back in his seat and directed his regard back up to the sky, joining in her stargazing.

  “Really?” She lightly chuckled. “Like what? I’m not going back to being in no damn office. I hated it, and it’s underpaid.”

  “Never said that, but you’re smart, Paris. You could do all sorts of shit. My father told me a long time ago, to do what I love. What do you love, Paris?” He turned towards her, and she did the same, until their eyes were hitched upon each other.

  “…You.” No smile. No smirk. She meant that shit.

  He offered a half grin and turned away. She made him feel so wonderful inside.

  “I like that, that’s beautiful, baby, but…if you could do anything you wanted in the whole damn world, and money were no issue, what would it be?”

  “Hmmm.” She thought for a second or two. “I like to garden… I’d like to do something like that I suppose.”

  “Like have your own flower shop?”

  “Yes, something like that.” She laughed nervously. “That’s silly, isn’t it?” She looked a bit embarrassed.

  “Nah, baby.” He shook his head. “It’s not silly at all.”

  “What about you?” She sighed as she took his hand, holding it just so.

  He looked down at their intertwined fingers, then back to the sky. “I’d fly, be a pilot. I’d get in a plane and fly that damn thing all over the world, over and over again.”

  She nodded in understanding, and they remained quiet for a while.

  “You feel that?” He shot up in his seat.

  “Feel what?” she asked quietly, her eyes still on the stars above.

  “Pay attention, baby.” His voice dropped as he fell into the moment. “If you get real still and quiet, you can feel the airplane coming long before you ever see it. The air changes, the wind too as it breaks through. It even…”

  The woman burst out laughing, startling him, making a mockery of his moving speech and testimonial.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “…You said wind and break in the same sentence.” The woman turned redder than red, a complete ridiculous mess.

  He slowly shook his head. “You are so silly, you must’ve gotten hold of some crazy weed.”

  “Haven’t smoked a joint years!” she declared, still laughing.

  “Anyway, see this. It even moves the car.” He placed a half full plastic bottle of water on top of his car console, hoping to interest her in a demonstration. “Now watch the water.”

  After a moment or two, the bottle began to vibrate. The show commenced…

  “Ahhhh, I see it!” She pointed at the bottle, a big, proud smile on her face.

  “Yup, it’s coming…” He sighed, delighting in her reaction.

  She placed her hand on his thigh, and le
aned in a bit closer, and closer still. Soon, the entire car was vibrating and a loud, invigorating noise that he’d come to love swooshed over their heads as the airplane flew past, darkening the car’s interior while it descended for a landing.

  “Ahhhhh! Wooooow!” She laughed and hooted, clapping her hands above her head as if she’d seen the greatest show on Earth. “I’ve never seen the underside of an airplane that close before! That was kinda scary! … So this is what you do, baby, when you want time alone, huh?” Her tone softened as she ran her hand up and down his leg, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

  “Yup. I enjoy it, it relaxes me. I used to do it in Monroe, too…” He reached over to cut on some music. The notes of Lykke Li’s, ‘Little Bit’ filled the car. The black leather of his seat rasped as he adjusted himself, relaxing a little more. He crossed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. “The next one should be here in about twenty-minutes. After that, we can go.”

  “But I don’t want to go…”

  Before he knew it, Paris straddled him and rubbed her pussy over his groin. His cock swelled in his jeans and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Mmmmm… I see where your mind is at. I’ve spoiled you. Now you think I’ll just fuck you anytime and anywhere, right?” He winked at her.

  “Oh yes, and I know you’ll deliver.” Her voice dropped low, causing his cock to jump as she pressed her sparse weight into him. She worked frantic hands on his belt, slipping it out the loops. Then, taking hold of his zipper, she yanked it with force so her greedy fingers could slip inside of his underwear, extracting the dick she craved. “Here’s my baby.” She grinned before swooping low and kissing the head. Before he could get a clear view, she popped back up and slid her chocolate brown capris down, her ass showcasing a bright red G-string. In her haste, her capris caught around her ankle. He reached low and grabbed them, casting them onto the passenger’s side seat. Pressing her palm onto his lower gut, gaining leverage, she slid down his hungry dick.

  “Mmmm, there you go…”

  “Ahhhhhh!” They sighed simultaneously when he began to softly thrust upward inside of her, one hand on her hip and the other kneading her breast.

  “Mmmmm, baby….” Soon, they found their mutual rhythm. “Feel so good…so damn good.” He pumped harder and faster, then crisscrossed his hands across her spine, locking his wrists in the small of her back as he looked up into her beautiful eyes.

  “Ahhhh….Ahhhhh!” Her face twisted in a grimace as she bounced up and down, but he knew that face—that wasn’t discomfort, but sheer pleasure.

  “That’s it…ride that big, hard cock, Pussycat!” He increased his pace, thrusting stronger and harder, and before long, the rumble of an approaching airplane tore through the darkened skies. Sliding his hand between their bodies, he massaged her clit, slowly, ever so slowly, rotating his thumb just the way she liked it, making her come undone.

  “Ahhhhh! Smoke, ahhhh! Your dick! Shit!” She rode him firmer, gripped his shoulders as she fell upon him. Her hips wiggled and rolled back and forth like a fucking machine. She gave a whole new meaning to ride or die…

  “Feels good, doesn’t it baby? Your pussy wrapped around my dick feels so fucking good! It’s all yours, Pussycat! Take it how you want it.” He reached for her face with both hands, brought her to him and delivered a heated kiss, one that caused him pause, one that stole the breath from his impassioned body.

  “Uhhhhhh! Uhhhhhh!” He lunged inside of her, wanting to feel it all, wanting to push within her as far as he could go, take them both to the brink.

  “I’m going to gush! I’m going to gush!” she warned as she twisted and contorted, her long hair flying in all directions.

  “Do it, Let me feel that shit!” He pumped hard within her until the woman streamed down on him, the wetness unreal. “Ohhhh goddamn! You weren’t kidding…” He grinned.

  Her lower lip liquor ran all over his lap, leaving him a wet, sticky, lovely mess. She trembled in his grip, sighing, moaning, making him fucking weak to the bone. The noise of the overhead airplane grew louder and the bottle tumbled off the console as he bucked and bounced her up and down as if she were only a coin tossed in the air.

  “Uhhhhh!” He groaned, seizing her, pinning her to his lap as he had his final way with her. “Uhhhh! Fuuuuuck!”

  “The plane is coming!”

  “…And so am I!” With a groan, he lunged hard, sticking, forcing her to scream so loud, his ears rang.

  “Ahhhhhh! Smoke!” She gripped his neck and looked into his eyes as if she were going to pass out, feeling his maximum impact.

  Vaaarooooom!

  The airplane soared over casting a huge shadow above them, as he gave one final thrust.

  “Uhhhhh! Shiiiit!” He rocked his cock inside of her, expelling his quenched desires. “Uhhh!….Ahhh, Oh God, Pussycat….shit….” As they gentled and came down the high together, he laughed because he was happy. Feeling her forehead against his heaving chest was his idea of heaven.

  “…That was great,” she sighed. “Up! Up! And aaawwwaaaaaay!” she belted, and they both laughed this time.

  “You are so fucking silly tonight…Come ’ere.” He reached over and grabbed her to drop a kiss on her cheek. After a few moments, they put their clothes back on in their cramped quarters, and he soon found himself turned into a pillow. Paris fell fast asleep, her head on his chest. She looked so amazingly peaceful. He contemplated how he was going to get the car started and drive them back to his place without rousing her. The dark sky grew darker as the sounds of the airplanes landing became the musical soundtrack he so needed. He gently stroked the sleeping beauty’s shoulder with his fingertips, and peered up at the sky once more.

  Making love under soaring and landing airplanes… with a woman that I love. Life can’t get much better than this. This right here is the stuff dreams are made of…

  *

  “WAIT A MINUTE, baby, I have a call coming in.” Smoke placed Paris on hold as he cruised Mulholland Drive. He’d taken a look at some new property, and had promptly called his old friend, Carl, who lived in the area.

  “Carl! Baby!” He laughed raucously. “How are you doin’, young stud?”

  “Just dandy, Brent,” the man stated sarcastically. “I got your voicemail, yes, let’s talk about this.”

  He could hear the money green in the man’s tone; this could be a lucrative venture.

  “Hold on a second. My girlfriend is on the other line.”

  “Ahhhh, the one you told me about? Paris? I can’t believe you’ve settled down! Mr. Playboy! The high school stud!”

  “Awwww man, whatever.” Smoke laughed as he paused and broke for a red light. “Hold on.”

  “A, Brent, let me call you right back! My lawyer is on the other end now.”

  “Sure man, no problem.” He disconnected and returned to Paris. “Hey, sexy…”

  “Hey right back.”

  Her sultry voice made his cock stand at attention. He couldn’t help but run his hand over his shaft, stroke it, pet it, wish she were near.

  “Who was that, sweetie?”

  “That was my friend Carl, sorry about that. I saw a house I am interested in over here, and I know he has some connections.”

  “Carl? I don’t think you ever mentioned him before. Where do you know him from?”

  “Oh, we go way back! From high school.”

  “That’s great. I’d like to meet him sometime.”

  “Why? So you can get some teenage dirt on me?” he teased.

  “Pretty much!” She cackled. “Hey Smoke, a client is coming in baby, gotta go!”

  “Okay Pussycat, call me later, okay?”

  “I will, sweetie.” And she disconnected the call…

  As he continued to maneuver over to the Apple store to pick up a new hard drive, he replayed Paris’ question in his mind…

  ‘Where do you know him from?’

  In reality, he didn’t know Carl only from high school, but
the man had been his first taste of what ‘normal’ was supposed to look like, feel like, and be like. For the first time in his life, Smoke experienced the green-eyed monster, jealousy, via Carl. He longed for what Carl had by his own birthright, wanted to hold the shit near. Carl spent most of their years envying Smoke, never realizing that it was Smoke who actually coveted his status…

  He drifted into a daydream, remembering the pivotal moment when he’d lusted for another man’s life, but knew deep within, he would never have it…

  “I only work on Saturdays at the pizza place now. How is that enough money?” Brent complained as he got his math and science textbooks out of his locker. He was speaking to his friend, a guy named Carl who reminded him of a young Jerry Seinfeld. He even sounded a bit like the comedian, too.

  “You’ve got to go to this party, man! Look, just ask your dad for some cash, everyone knows Big Brent has it!” He winked, as if it were a novel idea. “He doesn’t seem to be struggling, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “No. I’d prefer not to.” He threw a few ink pens into the front pocket of his backpack, hauled it over his shoulder and started walking up the hall to leave. Class was finally over for the weekend. He’d received his grades back, and got all A’s in everything except Art. In Art he got a C. It would just have to do. He hated that teacher anyway. It was the only class in which, no matter how hard he tried, the teacher would not budge, give an inch. He understood he was not exactly artistically inclined, but his effort should have surely warranted more notice. After seeing the C on his report card, he contemplated drawing a picture of his cock and hairy balls and turning it in, but he bet raggedy old Ms. Hath would’ve liked that.

  “Well, you need to find a damn way. Everybody who is anybody will be there, Brent! But you gotta bring some good alcohol, or there isn’t any point in coming.”

  He marinated on the notion, figuring that the booze was the admittance charge. Just then, a group of girls walked past, a few of them eye catching. One waved and offered a wide smile, showing a mouthful of expensive periodontal work.