“Put it in . . . make me cum.” She reached down, rubbing her clit while he prodded her wet opening with his solid erection. Catching her off guard, he slid inside her. She gasped, looking down at him, buried balls deep. He didn’t move. Both were caught up with the visual of the full penetration. Bracing himself, he started long dicking her with measured thrusts. Her creamy breast wobbled as his hips slammed into her ass. He gripped the armrest above her head, breathing hard and fast through his mouth. He punished her small frame, face balled up in pleasure. The sweet erotic sounds of her moaning had him enamored. His dick plowed incessantly, causing her to climax. She looked up at him, begging him not to stop. Without easing up, he lowered his mouth to one of her bouncing breast. Being inside her raw had him all the way open. She dug her nails into his back as his balls smacked against her wet ass. To prolong his climax, he switched positions. He made her kneel on the sofa as he stood behind her. Amanda’s moans were loud as he pounded her hard. His hands cupped her breast, dick moving rapidly in and out of her pussy. At one point, she had to muffle her moans by biting the back of the sofa. She reached back to fondle his balls after he asked her to.
When he felt his climax building, he slowed down, licking her shoulders, running his hands all over her body. He slid out of her then led her to a yoga mat. On the mat, he lay on his back, pulling her on top. Still in her heels, she straddled him backwards. The sight of his shining black penis pushing between her pink folds nearly made him cum too soon. She bounced on his dick, looking back over her shoulder. He was propped up on his elbows telling her how good it felt. When she caressed his balls, his eyes rolled.
Minutes later . . .
“That was incredible,” she said, sitting between his legs in the Jacuzzi. She had rode him until he exploded a big nut inside her pussy. The bottle of bubbly was empty with both drinking an equal amount. She couldn’t tell if she was drunk or just buzzing from sex. He was silent, rubbing her thighs under the water relaxing.
“Give me a massage,” she purred.
Ghetti kissed her shoulder then pushed up out of the water. He massaged her neck and shoulders. Suddenly she reached up for his hands.
“Whut’s up?” he asked.
She said nothing. Slowly she turned and maneuvered herself so that she was facing him. His semi erect penis was so close to her face that he could feel her breathing on it. Her hands were frozen on his thighs. This was the only act of sex they had yet to explore with each other—oral sex. Ghetti made the first move. One hand went to finger comb her damp hair while he slowly massaged himself with his other hand. She didn’t move. She watched his erection stiffen inches from her face. Unconsciously her nails dug into his thighs. Ghetti stroked it slowly. When he saw a clear secretion of precum form on his tip, he lowered it to her sexy thin lips. He knew it was on and popping when she stuck her tongue out for a taste. At first, she did it apprehensively. She closed her eyes, savoring the enticing sweet flavor of his precum. When she opened her eyes, she slid an inch closer, nails still planted in his flesh. Ghetti moved his hand to the back of her head and pushed down, aiming his throbbing dick at her mouth. Amanda released her grip, reaching for his penis.
“Yeah, handle it fo’ me,” he whispered with Kem still singing in the background. She licked his wet tip, coating every inch of her tongue with his precum.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. She massaged him with her hands, feeling him getting harder. She kissed the side of it, licking it up and down. She was making him moan which only drove her to go all the way. And she did it. She took him in her mouth, sucking on the throbbing head. Gently, she started sucking it, feeling it pulsating and stretching her jaws. Up and down, her head yo-yoed in his lap through one song, nonstop.
“Suck it, baby! Ooohh baby!” he urged her on, gripping her hair, grunting each time she swallowed his dick. She was deep into sucking him, showing no shame. It got so good that he had to stand up. She continued sucking his dick at a methodical pace. She was like a nymph between his legs while she knelt in the bubbling water letting her mouth get fucked. Nothing else mattered to her. She was rubbing his balls and sucking the life out of him. Amanda heard the change of pitch in his moans and she knew what was going to happen. He erupted while his dick was deep slipping in and out of her mouth. She took him out of her mouth and took it in the face. He looked down, breathing like he had just run two miles and watched how she flicked her tongue on his tip with cum all over her face. He was about to pull her to her feet when the music suddenly went off only to be replaced with the sounds of clapping hands. Ghetti spun around too quickly and fell out of the Jacuzzi as Amanda remained motionless in a state of shock. Standing in the corner was her husband with another man who was holding a gun.
“Bravo, bravo, bravo!” her husband shouted while clapping his hands.
*Goldsboro, North Carolina*
Same Time
Volanda woke up in Mance’s bed rubbing her eyes. Rolling over, she found that she was alone. Looking at the time she saw that it was 12:10 a.m. She got up and found Mance in the living room sitting in the dark. She sensed something was wrong.
“Baby,” she said softly. “What’s the matter?” She sat down beside him “Did Ghetti make it back?” she asked, rubbing his shoulder.
“Nah,” he said, leaning back in the sofa.
“Where did he say he was going?”
“On a date with some girl, said he needed to get something else on his mind due to what happened to his friend, Maria. I checked his room and he left his gun, so he’s not out doing anything stupid—like looking for Poo.”
“Baby, I forgot to mention something. The next tip we received on Poo-Man I was told that the U.S. Marshals fugitive Task Force will be called in and the same will go for Ghetti. Those U.S. Marshals are serious, Mance.” Her voice was full of distress.
“I know, baby,” he replied.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
”Let’s talk about it.”
He took a deep breath then released a heavy sigh. “It’s hard to understand. I’m thinking about our child. What kind of world will he or she grow up in? See, I don’t talk about it much, but life still ain’t fair for black folks. I still don’t like how that bullshit Lacrosse Case went down. Word up. That couldn’t have been no one kin to me! Black women get raped and sadly, it be by our own kind. But back to that Lacrosse Case, they went through hell and high water to quickly prove their innocence. Muthafucka’s ain’t shit! I just want our child to live in a fair world and not be put down by skin color. But facing the truth, some people were just born to hate. It’s a major part of why this world is fucked up.”
“That’s true, baby. But my views are on an individual basis. I can’t categorize an entire race off one or two— race related issues. Not all white people hold resentment toward us. Look at Amanda for example. Yes, racism is still alive, but the truth of the matter is that we as blacks are our own biggest obstacle. With the rate of black kids killing each other over gang related issues, it is a bigger topic than racism, Mance and it is sad.
“It’s their mindset. To kids growing up, the majority deems it mandatory to have this gangster creed or label themselves to be the hardest in the streets instead of being the smartest in the class. I don’t enjoy locking my people up. But if you are out having gunfights in the street over a simple color and little kids are being hit by stray bullets, then I hold no compassion. Baby, I zipped up two body bags today that halted the lives of two teenagers over nothing. A bandana.”
“Some of them kids grew up around gangs. Their mom was in, father, uncle, brother and so on. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s all that some of these kids know. I don’t want our seed nowhere near the drama,” Mance said his view.
“Baby, just because I carry this badge does not place me on a higher pedestal because I still have my personal struggles. But this is what I’ve learned to lessen the stress of life.”
> “And what’s that?”
She got up and pulled him to his feet. “Keep your eyes dry and your heart easy.”
Ghetti was fully dressed, but in his nervousness from doing it at gunpoint, he had his boxers on backwards. Her husband took her out of the room. Ghetti was forced to sit on the floor with his hands on top of his head. He stood no chance of rushing the white dude; in his mind, he knew it was a one-way trip to the casket. Amanda didn’t say anything to her husband until she was shoved into their bedroom. “Matt, I’m sorry, please let’s,” she choked on her words when he aimed a black nine millimeter at her face.
“This is just a, as you say, my precautionary measure,” he said sneering.
“Matt, please don’t—”
“Shut up and sit your filthy cock sucking ass down!” He motioned with the gun. She backed up toward the bed.
“Dogs sit on the floor!” he snapped.
She looked into his blue eyes and saw nothing but hate. Tears began to form in her eyes. She understood that she was wrong for bringing another man into her home. It was her fault.
“Amanda, I gave you everything you’ve ever asked me for,” he said, halting her thoughts. “I gave you my love and I come home and find my loving slut for a wife sucking a nigger’s dick!” he said full of contempt.
She lowered her head and wept. Her life was at the point of destruction. She could no longer go on living in endless pain and no matter how hard she tried to push the fear of death away, it kept sinking into her. Her vision became blurred behind her tears.
“I came home, entered my house, and walked up on a black male rushing down the stairs. A struggle ensued and during the struggle, a gun was brought into play by the black male. In the life or death struggle, I managed to turn his gun on him and fired a fatal wound to his chest. Fearing for my—loving wife, I rushed up the stairs, only to find my wife dead. Raped and strangled to death. His semen will be in your mouth, inside your vagina.” He smiled. “I’ll play the desolate husband, having gotten away with the perfect crime. Now, is this not a grand deception?”
“You, you can’t do this, Matt!” She continued to weep.
“Look at yourself! You are nothing but a whore. You’re the detective. Tell me how you would view this? Open and shut. Maybe your fried chicken-eating partner will be the one to zip up your body bag. I control your life right now. See, I even know about that lesbian black bitch at the college.”
Amanda lost her breath.
“I have no feelings for you. None!” He switched the gun to his left hand then reached inside his jacket. “You got a choice tonight.” He tossed an envelope at her. She wiped her eyes.
“Open it! Since you want to fuck niggers, I’ll let you live like one—dirt poor. Those are divorce papers. By signing it, you will legally dissolve this marriage and get nothing. I have your infidelity on tape, so if you think you can sign those and turn around and hire a lawyer, you’re wasting your time.”
Amanda looked at the divorce papers and noticed that they had been drawn up nearly three weeks ago.
“You will get nothing. I want to see you suffer.”
“Matt, please.”
“Bitch, sign those papers or take your last breath!” he spat. “You no longer exist to me.” He raised the gun. “Your choice.” Ghetti was still in a fucked up spot when a gunshot went off. The man who held him at gunpoint quickly pulled out his cell phone. Ghetti assumed he was calling Amanda’s husband and he was right.
“Get up,” he ordered Ghetti. “You got one minute to become a distant memory. You found your way in so you know your way out.”
Ghetti came to his feet. He moved with a suspecting fear that he was being set up. As he walked past the spiral staircase, he spotted her husband standing at the top, gun in hand. Straight up, Ghetti was shook. He was assuming that he would somehow be set up for Amanda’s murder. By gunpoint, he was forced to hand over his cell phone.
“Take my advice and leave.” The man handed Ghetti the keys to the C70 then headed for a dark-colored Chevy Silverado that was blocking him in. Once he got inside the car, he started it up not knowing what to expect next. Why were they letting him go? Something did not add up. He felt bad for leaving, but what could he do? Ghetti would give anything to have the comfort of reaching under the seat for his gun. Even then, what would it help? How odd, he was faced with stopping at the first pay phone to call the police and report Amanda’s murder. But wait—wouldn’t he be snitching? He shifted the car in reverse. Just as he was about to leave, Amanda came walking briskly with a small bag out of the front door. Her husband remained on the steps with his arms folded. Ghetti sat up in the seat, and then flicked the high beams on. He saw no blood and she didn’t look injured. What in the hell was going on? He watched her open her purse looking for the keys to the Aspen. He flicked the high beams off. He was backing out when Amanda collapsed to the ground. Even from a distance, he could see that she was crying. He shook his head and slowly drove off, leaving his troubles behind.
Amanda remained on the ground crying. Her husband had taken her keys to define that he meant what he said. She was leaving with nothing. It was cold, and all she had on were a pair of jeans, a thin sweater, and nothing else. She had a few items of clothing, only what the bag could carry. She knew her husband was serious and she made no effort to plea for his mercy. She buried her face in her hands, giving up. She hoped she would just freeze to death in her sleep because she refused to move. What was her life for? She had no answer. Three minutes later, Ghetti pulled back up. He got out and pulled her to her feet. She was too distraught to talk, so he ended up picking up her items and pulling off with her curled up in the passenger seat. He had never left. He had driven a few yards down the street then pulled to the side to wait for her. When the minutes rolled by, he had driven back to see what was up. His confidence had grown and he wasn’t about to keep being chumped by two crackers, guns or no guns. Amanda had her back toward him sobbing and choking up on her tears. He tried to talk to her, but it was hopeless. He was asking if she had a place to go, a friend or someone. He had enough on his shoulders as it was and now he had to deal with an evicted wife.
Mance had warned him about fucking with married women, but Ghetti was hardheaded. If he hadn’t listened to his body, none of this bullshit would have gone down. They rode in silence. When he reached the city limits of Raleigh, Amanda had fallen asleep with the seat fully reclined. The silence was nerve racking, so he turned the system on at a low volume. Tupac’s “Shed So Many Tears” relaxed his center as he bobbed his head to the classic hit. His thoughts flowed around Amanda. Yeah, he liked her, well, a little bit. She was attractive for her age and hands down, her sex was additive. He glanced at her sleeping form, feeling sorry for her. What type of man could be with a woman who could never bear his seed? Ghetti pushed that thought out and focused on himself. Shit, he wanted some kids one day. It was tough. Let’s not forget his views on white women. Loving one and fucking one were two separate mindsets. He tried to think of all the negatives to ignore what he truly felt. If she were cheating on her husband, she would down the line do it again. She was cold-hearted to bring another man under her roof. Oh, plus she was white. When he reached Selma, he stayed on point by pulling off Highway 70 for Master Inn. If he took her home, he would have too much explaining to do to Mance. He woke her up and asked her to get the room in her name because he didn’t have his I.D.
“Don’t leave me, please,” she pleaded before getting out.
“Amanda, I wouldn’t play you like that. Here.” He pulled the key out and gave it to her. “I guess you’ll have to learn to trust me.”
She squeezed the key in her hand, hesitating before she got out. He smiled when he saw she had left the key behind in the seat. So, she trusted him. She got the room with the cash Ghetti had given her. Once they entered the room, she went directly to the bathroom. Minutes later, the shower was running. He was sitting in a chair by the window when she came out in nothing but bra a
nd panties. It was semi-dark with only the lights coming from the bathroom.
“We need to talk.” He was rubbing the hair on his chin.
She sat on the bed, noticing that he was fully dressed. She said nothing.
“I-I thought you were . . . Didn’t I hear a gun shot? Tell me somethin’. Be honest wit me. It ain’t every night that I get held at gunpoint,” he said.
“Vic, I’m sorry, okay? The gun went off just to scare me, okay. Please let me rest. I know what happened was traumatic, but it’s over now. I promise I will explain everything to you in the morning if you are still here. And Vic, thank you for coming back for me.”
He looked down at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. He could not leave, mainly because he didn’t want to leave.
Two minutes later, and after turning his boxers around, he joined her in bed. He had to admit that it felt good when she slid over to his side of the bed. She fell asleep on his chest with his fingers running through her damp hair—something he had a habit of doing with her. Before he dozed off, he reached over for the telephone and called Mance. He wanted to let him know that he was okay in case he had tried to call. Mance picked up on the sixth ring. It was now 1:29 A.m.
“Yeah?” His voice sounded tired.
The Game of Deception Page 20