Double Dippin'

by Allison Hobbs

  “Why you so mean?” Shane asked as he gave Misty a quick kiss on the lips and then whispered in her ear. “You know my jawn gets hard when you bring out your can of whoop ass.”

  “And you know my pussy gets wet when I get a chance to smack one of your bitches around.”

  Busy manhandling and threatening bodily harm to Valencia’s brother, Brick didn’t notice the intimate interaction between Misty and Shane.

  CHAPTER 28

  Janelle returned to her management position at McDonald’s. She barked out orders to Tariq and the other fast food employees all day. At home, she continued to boss Tariq around.

  “Tariq! Don’t you hear the baby crying!” Janelle yelled. Tariq, engrossed in a TV program, was oblivious to his son’s cries. Janelle’s loud voice snapped him into awareness. Tariq jumped up immediately and retrieved the baby. He brought his son into the living room, rocking him as his eyes returned to the TV screen, but the baby continued to cry.

  “Tariq!” she yelled again. “He’s probably wet. I can’t do everything, you know,” she said, sucking her teeth. “I’m trying to fix dinner. Can you please make yourself useful?”

  Tariq stuck his hand inside the baby’s diaper. “Yup, you’re soaked,” he said, smiling at his son and then proceeding to change the diaper.

  “After you change him, give him a bottle of water. I know he’s starving; I’ll feed him in a few minutes.”

  Living with his bossy, hard-to-please wife was a lot better than living with the whining, wimpy woman she’d become during her pregnancy. Things were slowly getting back to normal.

  Quite a few changes had taken place in their relationship while Janelle was on her emotional hiatus. For one thing, Tariq didn’t wear women’s undergarments anymore, and he no longer gave his wife a detailed account of his every move.

  Their sex life had resumed, but something was missing. Sex with Janelle had become mechanical and mundane as if her heart wasn’t in it. Tariq missed the freaky things they used to get into.

  Once, when he’d tried to get her in the mood by caressing her hips and gently running his fingers down her thighs, she’d snapped at him, saying, “Don’t you ever try to initiate sex with me. I call the shots around here. I’ll let you know when I’m in the mood.”

  He masturbated regularly, hoping for the day when Janelle resumed the aggressive role in bed that she used to enjoy. He yearned to cry out in ecstasy the way he always did whenever Janelle took control in the bedroom. He hoped he didn’t have to wait too much longer.

  As Tariq finished changing the baby’s diaper, the phone rang. Janelle answered it. “It’s for you,” she said, her lips twisted in a sneer. It had to be Shane. Of course it was Shane, Tariq concluded. No one else called him and no one else had that effect on Janelle.

  “Whassup, bro,” Tariq said while trying to give the baby a bottle of water. The baby squirmed and pushed the nipple out of his mouth, fretting and whimpering. Tariq rocked him faster, cutting an eye at Janelle to see if she was ready to nurse their son. Her rigid back turned in his direction answered his question.

  “I got something for you and Janelle,” Shane told Tariq. “A video camera. A Sony—top of the line.”

  “For real? A Sony?”

  “I’ll stop by with it in a short.”

  “Thanks. Okay, see you soon,” Tariq said cheerfully.

  Janelle glared at Tariq when he hung up the phone. “See you soon?” she repeated sarcastically. “I’m not fixing an extra plate for your brother,” she snarled, placing a hand on her hip.

  “Yo, chill,” Tariq said in a raised voice.

  Janelle lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, I forgot-whenever you talk to your brother, you start acting like you have an extra set of balls.”

  Tariq ignored her comment about his balls. “Shane’s not trying to hustle us for no meal. He’s coming over to give us a camera so we can start filming the baby.”

  Janelle softened perceptibly. “Oh! That’s thoughtful of your brother,” she said, unable to suppress a smile.

  “Yes it is, so try to treat him nice.”

  Wearing a bright smile, she nodded. “I can’t wait to start filming Lil’ Man.”

  The desk clerk called and announced Shane’s arrival fifteen minutes later.

  Shane entered his brother’s apartment proudly carrying the video camera. “I don’t have the booklet that goes with it, so you’ll have to take it to one of those camera shops in the mall. Maybe they can sell y’all the booklet that goes with this. Check it out,” he beckoned Tariq. “I can show you the basics.”

  Janelle and Tariq hovered nearby as Shane filmed the baby as he played with a rattle. He turned the camera toward Tariq and Janelle. “Stand close, love-birds.” Shane smiled when Tariq pulled Janelle close to him. “Now, give me some action,” he said teasingly. Surprisingly, Janelle smiled broadly and then turned around and gave Tariq a passionate kiss-tongue and all. Tariq thought her behavior was a little over the top considering she’d been rather cold for months, but he’d take affection and the promise of sex however he could get it. He assumed that being filmed was a turn-on for his wife.

  “Here, Janelle, get some footage of me and my brother,” Shane said, handing her the camera. He took the baby out of his baby seat. “We can’t leave out the little playa.” He looked approvingly at his nephew. “Damn, Tariq. You put your back all up in Lil’ Man. He ain’t nothing but you, man. Straight-up Batista!”

  Tariq smiled proudly.

  Janelle’s smile dimmed. “Damn, everybody acts like all I did was carry Lil’ Man. I know Tariq’s fine and everything, but he didn’t make this baby by him-self,” she said, pouting.

  Shane ignored her outburst and directed his attention to his nephew.

  Tariq could tell by the glimmer of pain reflected in his wife’s eyes that he was going to pay dearly for her hurt feelings. Any hopes he’d had that his wife would be in a an amorous mood later on that night had instantly gone out the window.

  After Shane left, Janelle ignored Tariq completely.

  Surprisingly, later that evening, when Janelle got out of the shower, she came in the bedroom wearing a hot pink satin-and-lace gown-no panties underneath. She got in the bed and smacked Tariq on the ass. “Turn over.”

  Tariq turned on his stomach. Janelle climbed on top of him and slipped her hands beneath his chest. Pinching his nipples while she rotated her hips, she thrust her pelvic area against his ass. Following her lead, Tariq fell easily into his role.

  “You’re a pretty bitch, Tariq, you know that?”

  Tariq was silent, not knowing how to respond.

  “Did you hear me? I said you’re a pretty bitch. My pretty bitch!”

  Tariq loved it when Janelle started talking crazy shit. It got him hot and horny.

  Janelle thrust hard against his ass, pushing against him as if she had a dick. “What are you, Tariq?”

  “I’m your pretty bitch,” Tariq exclaimed, excitedly.

  Janelle rolled off Tariq. “Take your drawers off and give me some pussy.”

  Tariq got up and kicked off his boxers. He returned to the bed and lay on his back, with his arms to his sides, unmoving. Submissive.

  Janelle straddled him quickly. She was dripping and hot. As she slid down on him, the pleasure caused her to cry out. Then, pulling herself together she regained control. As Janelle rode him hard and rough, she asked him in a throaty whisper, “Who runs things in this house, Tariq?”

  “You do, Janelle,” he gasped, feeling himself quickly rising to a crescendo of passion he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “Tell me why I run things around here.”

  He knew what she wanted to hear and felt no inhibitions. However, fighting an unwelcome orgasm, Tariq could not speak. His face at the moment was contorted in sweet pain; the only sound emerging from his lips was an outcry of pleasure.

  “What do I have that you need, Tariq?” She rephrased her question, strangling his penis with tightened inner m
uscles, making it nearly impossible for him to speak.

  “A big dick,” he uttered in a voice that sounded anguished. The force of her violent lovemaking was delicious torture.

  “That’s right,” she said humping fast, “and if I have the dick in this house, what do you have? Tell me, Tariq—what do you have?”

  Afraid he’d lose control if he spoke the words audibly, he mumbled with his lips pressed against his wife’s chest, “A pussy.”

  “What else? Who am I and what do I do?” she prompted.

  Tariq trembled. “You’re my wife and you fuck me with your big dick.” His words caused them both to lose control. Tariq and Janelle came together, shuddered together; the release was long overdue.

  Janelle was back in control and Tariq couldn’t help but wonder if Shane’s visit had provoked her aggressive behavior. It didn’t matter; he couldn’t have been happier. She could treat him any way she wanted—she could call him every name in the book. He had no problem submitting to his wife. What went on behind closed doors was their business alone.

  CHAPTER 29

  Obtaining a post office box was easy. As promised, Misty called Paula three days later.

  “You got my dough?” Misty asked, her face bright with anticipation.

  “Yes.” There was a tremble in Paula’s voice.

  “Drop some numbers on me.”

  Paula was silent for a moment and then inhaled deeply. “I’m not rich, you know. I don’t work. My husband—”

  “Kill that noise! Whatchu workin’ with, bitch?” Misty spit out the last word venomously.

  Paula gasped. “Well, I can give you…um, about fifty a week.”

  “Fifty dollars a week?” Misty repeated for Shane’s and Brick’s benefit. Brick’s face broke up in disgust, making the scar on his forehead seem more pronounced. Shane’s expression was impassive. He knew Misty would handle the situation.

  “Make it seventy-five,” Misty said. “Cash money, baby, and make sure it’s on time. Late money carries a stiff penalty. And you don’t wanna know about that so don’t fuck with my money.”

  Misty gave Paula her alias as well as the number to the post office box. Before hanging up, she poured salt in the woman’s wound. “I know you ain’t no spring chicken or nothing, but damn, I ain’t think my man would fuck around with a bitch old enough to be having memory problems.”

  “What are you talking about?” Paula said, now weeping audibly.

  “I asked you where you bought that black baby doll shit and you said you didn’t remember. Duh…figure it out, bitch,” Misty said. Turning up the corner of her top lip, she gave Shane and Brick a look.

  “Stupid bitch,” Brick spat, disgustedly referring to Paula. Misty broke up laughing, her eyes fixed on Shane, encouraging him to join in. Shane simply smiled and shook his head as if Misty was just the cutest thing.

  Showing off for Shane’s benefit, Misty continued, “Send me a set just like it, but don’t go to the big girls’ shop,” she warned, and then doubled over in malicious laughter. “I don’t shop in the plus-size stores, I wear a size three. Now, make sure I get my package in two days.” Misty hung up the pay phone and took a theatrical bow. Shane and Brick clapped their hands and then the trio quickly departed the vicinity of the pay phone.

  “So what y’all wanna get into today?” Misty wanted to know.

  “Depends on how much money we got,” Brick said.

  “Misty opened her purse and counted their money and then screwed up her lips. “We only got fifty-two dollars.”

  “Where’d all the money go?” Shane asked. He was glad he kept a separate stash at his secret home.

  “Me and Brick bought some clothes and you know how you do. You spent a lot on coke.”

  “I only spent sixty dollars on blow.”

  Misty shrugged. “So what we gon’ do—stand around out here arguing over who spent what, or are we gonna go get some more money?” Wearing a pouty expression, she gazed at Brick.

  “It’s daytime. I ain’t steppin’ up on no suckas at the ATM machine with the sun shining on my ass.”

  “Daytime is probably the best time to pull the shit off. Suckers who withdraw money this time of the day are bound to have their guard down.”

  “She got a point,” Shane said.

  Brick squinted in thought. “I don’t know. I work best at night. And I follow my instincts. I ain’t trying to do no time over no dumb shit. We just gotta come up with a plan—something safe.”

  They murmured in agreement.

  “Whassup. You got any new bitches?” Misty asked Shane.

  “I’m tapped out,” Shane admitted.

  “What!” Misty and Brick said in unison. “All those bitches looking for dick—boy, you must be slippin’” Brick said. They all knew that despite Brick’s big dick, he could never pimp women. He was big, unattractive, and had that hideous scar. No woman would ever pay to fuck him.

  Shane, however, wasn’t at a loss for female clientele; he was putting in more time at home. When the weight of the world came crashing down, he’d buy some blow, some weed, and head on home where he could rely on finding peace and serenity. And love. Real love.

  He loved Misty in an odd way, but being that Brick was his dawg and she was Brick’s girl, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall deeply in love with her. Shane had a feeling Brick knew what was going on. Brick had to know they were sharing Misty. It was an unspoken agreement. Too touchy a subject to admit with words. Yeah, Misty had to be kept at arm’s length.

  Misty was extra special—a pretty, sexy little thing who was as criminal-minded and fearless as the most treacherous man. There were so many fine bitches out there who gave him a sexual rush. But neither Misty nor anybody else could compete with the woman he had at home.

  Shane and Dolores Holmes had an understanding. He didn’t expect society to approve of their relationship, but as he matured, he came to an acceptance within. He no longer felt guilt about what they were doing. It wasn’t wrong. It was just different.

  Maturity had taught him to appreciate what she did for him. He was addicted and needed her like a drug. Her soft flabby body was a comfort to lie close to. And when he needed to release his emotions with tears, she was there to wipe his eyes and rock him until he calmed down. And like any mother, she figured out ways to keep him pacified.

  The last time he’d come home agitated and became inconsolable and caught up in a crying jag, she promptly got up, went into the kitchen, and came back with a cup of evaporated milk. She stuck a finger in the milk and gave him a taste before dousing herself with the liquid and holding him close while he licked and sucked it from her heavy tits.

  Heaven. It was heaven. Sucking and tasting something so familiar and sweet brought back memories. With her he felt as sheltered and protected as a newborn.

  He was deeply ashamed of the way he’d treated her when he was young, He hadn’t known any better when he’d taken something from her she’d been so willing to give. When he needed comforting like a baby, she allowed him to feel reborn, and when he had manly urges, without question, she parted her legs.

  No, there wasn’t another soul in the world that could do what she did for him.

  “So what we gonna do?” Misty asked impatiently.

  “I don’t know. But I feel like I gotta check on my twin.”

  “What? You feel like something’s wrong?” Brick asked.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure what it is.”

  “Well, call ’em and find out if he’s all right. Why would you go all the way to Mount Airy for nothing?” Misty asked, peeved.

  “Naw, I gotta go up there,” Shane said adamantly.

  “It’s that twin shit,” Brick explained. “He used to go through this all the time when we was up in Barney Hills.”

  “Whatever!” She was pissed off that Shane wanted to leave. Then she brightened. “I know!” She looked at Brick with mischief in her eyes. “Want to get into some freak shit? We don’t need no money for that.
”

  “I’m down.”

  Misty smiled and pulled out her cell phone.

  Shane gave his buddies a hug. “Y’all have fun.” When he was sure he was out of their eyesight, he flipped open his cell and called home. “I don’t feel good, Mommy,” he said in a choked little boy’s voice.

  “Don’t start crying, Shane. Not out in public, you hear me?” As if she could see him, he nodded his head.

  “Pull yourself together and come on home.”

  “Okay,” he said and hailed a cab.

  Blindfolded and with his hands tied together with Misty’s bra, Brick waited. He heard Misty speaking softly, then a baritone voice responded. When their footsteps and voices drew closer, Brick took a deep shuddering breath.

  He felt the mattress sink from the weight of the man’s body. Brick tried to imagine what the anonymous man looked like, but couldn’t come up with an image. It didn’t matter. He was a faceless man whose forbidden intentions caused Brick to tremble with expectancy. He wore a blindfold because he didn’t want to see or be seen. His secret passion for homosexual activities was something he’d rather feel than see.

  He felt Misty’s soft, small hand. “See,” she said, lifting Brick’s stiffened dick for the man to appraise. “Ten inches. I didn’t lie, did I?”

  The man emitted a guttural sound that vibrated against Brick’s scrotum, giving Brick the impression that his face and his lips were near.

  “Mmm,” Brick groaned in a tone that sounded like a low rumble and bordered on being a growl.

  “Not so fast,” Misty said, interrupting the encounter. “That’s ten inches and I’m charging twenty dollars for every inch.”

  At that moment, Brick felt like punching Misty in the head for breaking the mood with her greedy money transactions. Couldn’t she take care of that later? Jutting his groin in desperation, Brick cried out, “Stop wasting time, baby, get the money later. Let dude get on my jawn right now.”

  Misty kissed the head of Brick’s penis. “Be cool; let me take care of the business end. He gon’ take care of you in a minute.”