by Staci Parker
They were both drained of energy and a bit ashamed of themselves—just how far they each went because love was that overpowering of an emotion.
The worst part was the awkward conversation after the deed. They both looked at each other, then smiled, then looked away in tickled pink embarrassment. It was an unexpected affair but one that—just like he said—would be a once in a lifetime experience.
IV
After crying herself to sleep later that night, Thelma woke up to a surprise. Anton was there at her apartment door, unaccompanied by any bodyguards. Just him, hands in pockets, and with an earnest look on his face. She couldn’t believe that he came back, let alone that he had a message of peace.
“What…what are you doing here?”
“I figured I owed you something like an apology.”
“Something like?”
“I know we didn’t plan on anything happening last night…”
“I didn’t.”
“Me neither.”
“Yes you did!”
“Well a brother can always hope but…not planned.” He smiled softly. “Look, I just want to make sure you’re cool. I know you’re probably scared because of what happened…”
“The truth is,” she confessed. “It was the most erotic moment of my life. The worst thing I ever did and the best thing. From the moment I met you, I knew you were someone special. And I knew you had a hold on me.”
“I knew something was going on,” he admitted. “The way you stood up to me…the way you demanded respect…I knew this was not just a fling. This was something special.”
“Well…not what? We’re still on different trains, Anton. You’re on the wrong side of the law. And through fate or luck…I’m on the right side.”
“And we’re both warriors,” he said with a long face.
“So we should go…our separate ways.”
“Yeah, probably a good idea.”
“Yeah…”
“Or…”
“Or what?”
“Or we could finish what we started. Miss Grayson. Thelma…”
He smiled as he reached in for another kiss. This one was different. This time the reluctance was gone. She ached to feel his lips again and when they connected it was like music to the body—a perfect orchestra of high emotion, intense longing and very powerful chemistry inside.
It didn’t take Anton long to rip her house dress away and put his long black hands all over her cocoa skin. They came from two different worlds but when they made a physical connection it was living poetry. He put his hands all over her naked body, feeling the fine contours of her silky curves, her firm and beautiful breasts to her taut tummy, and even down to the soles of her feet. The man couldn’t live without her taste in his mouth and caressed her with hot wet lips. He sucked her nipples and tugged at her hair, treating the classy woman as his own bitch, and making no apologies.
Maybe that’s what endeared Thelma to the lifestyle. He was a thug in front of the camera and a mean ass motherfucker in bed. He never gave her a moment’s rest. The black saint with a heart of gold simply had no patience for men who were already well behaved. She was a worker, a fighter and Anton was truly a battle worth winning.
Neither of them had condoms for the second visit either but that was their dirty, unspoken secret together. They both pretended to be oblivious but deep down, they both wanted this thing to get out of control. Take another chance and change destiny.
This time he wanted her on top. He lay on the bed and let her stroke his big black cock, topping off at ten inches.
She loved the feeling of penetrating her deep, as she stepped over and slid his dick inside of her. Rolling back and forth and enjoying the sensation, she adjusted her pelvis and let him go in deeper inside. Thelma slowly shifted back and forth, tightening her grip on him internally and balancing her hands on his hairy chest.
Passion was building and Anton grabbed her wrists as she rode him harder, using her leg strength to jostle his cock and keep him groaning. Going in and out, his firm and bulging ridges were enough to send Thelma into a hip shaking frenzy. She grabbed his forearms as soon as he grabbed her bouncing breasts and they held each other tight, shutting their eyes and feeling a strong exchange of energy.
Anton was inching his way towards climax, feeling the building pressure. She could feel his every kick and jerk, and the more she wore him down, the faster he seemed to strike upwards, slapping his balls into her tight wetness. Her pussy flooded him with passion and when she began panting, completely under his sexual spell, it proved to be too much.
The iron man began to buck under the pressure and howled at the ceiling as he shut his eyes and grabbed her into his arms, throwing his arms over and behind her neck. He came mountain loads into her, blasting his weapon through multiple rounds like a real gangster should. This time there was no protection and no excuses. They came fast and furious and there was little chance that some lucky little sperm didn’t slip pass the end zone.
The erotic sensation overcame them as they gazed and basked in the afterglow, knowing damn well they just took a big risk. Not a risk—more like taunting the gods and throwing all caution to the wind. She wanted to get pregnant by him and think about serious shit later. It was simply an intense life experience that they both owed to each other. Maybe they didn’t understand each other’s worlds… but they connected with a language purer than any verbal communication.
Anton released the animal instinct in Thelma, the one that is buried underneath every cold-hearted woman, no matter her front, or at least that’s what the players say.
There was no question Anton was a player, but he may well have been played himself, considering just how easily controlled he was when under Thelma’s influence. She had him fucking like a bull three hours a day during those first weeks. But once her desire had been kicked open, she became just about as much woman as he could handle. She didn’t exactly tame the beast but she did manage to keep his attention and keep his eye from straying by upping her sexual games, just like a real gangster’s girl should.
Thelma became the talk of the town, the gossip of the city, and what you might call a hood legend. No one knows for sure if she’s now part of Anton’s criminal empire fighting for black lives all over the country, or if she’s just protecting her bad lover boy like a venomous snake. Whatever the case, it’s hard to deny that passion is a dangerous thing no matter what train you come from.
THE END
The Captive Bride
Chapter One
Elise fanned herself ineffectively as the carriage bounced her down the road towards the small village. The horses seemed to be finding every dip and rock in the path and she clutched the window opening to prevent herself from landing on the floor.
The heat and humidity outside were only mildly relieved by the breeze of their movement. The baskets on the floor scratched the tops of her feet as they jostled around in the bumps.
It was her weekly trip into town for supplies and she both hated and loved the outing. She loved getting out of the estate and watching the landscape roll past her open window; she loved browsing in the shops for food and sewing patterns and whatever else struck her fancy; she loved stopping in the small inn for a lunch before heading back home. She hated coming back home. The freedom she knew in town, limited as it was with her escort, made returning to the estate that much more painful.
Henry was a cloud that she could never escape. Even as she fingered the silky new dress in the shop, she knew she would catch the angry end of his belt for spending that kind of money. He wanted her to help him entertain at the house but she knew the other wives were gossiping behind her back about the fact that she only had two nice dresses in which to hostess such parties.
They did have servants for the actual serving, but her place was to giggle at the terrible and tasteless jokes and smile sweetly as drunken Henry stumbled around the dining hall and eventually had his way with her in her bedroom.
She did a
ppreciate having her own room and spent many a quiet evening by herself, with her needlework or her handful of books.
The carriage finally arrived in town and her driver/guard helped her down. The cobblestones tugged at the stiff petticoats of her traveling attire and she gathered them delicately in one hand, making sure not to pull them too high for fear of showing her slim ankles to the entire world. The older man who traveled with her followed behind her carrying the baskets that she intended to fill for the week.
“Shall we stop at the grocer’s first?” she tried to make conversation.
“Aye, madam, whatever you desire.”
She sighed heavily, and wished she were allowed to travel with her cook or her maiden. Either of them would have been preferable company, and could be considered her only friends. With either one of the two women, she could have made quite a fun day out of the trip to the markets.
She swung the door open into the grocer and tried to keep her skirts from bumping anything on the lower shelves. She selected a nice variety of foodstuffs such as fresh tea leaves, a small bag of sugar, and a bag each of flour and rice. In the sundries section she picked up two more sewing needles and three new packets of thread so that she could start her new cross stich piece.
The market next door was open-air, and offered quite a selection of fresh items from the nearby farms. Henry’s estate included a sizeable chicken coop so she had no need for eggs, and the vegetable garden was plentiful this time of year so she did not browse those areas. She did select some fresh cheese and butter from one of the dairy farmers and the driver paid as she wandered to the next stall: the butcher.
Fresh meat was an expensive commodity and Henry loved showing off his wealth at his parties, but she had to be careful with that spending as well. Henry was planning a party for the next night, and she had to walk a careful line between frugally spending his hard-earned money and making sure they provided a spread that displayed their wealth and lifestyle.
After she selected a decent sized ham as well as some smoked bacon, she instructed the driver to purchase two bottles of whiskey. It was unseemly for her to purchase them directly, but her evening would be bitter and painful if she forgot that purchase.
Before making the long ride back to the estate, the driver and Elise enjoyed a moment of quiet while they lunched. It was a simple lunch of beef stew and homemade brown bread but it tasted good and would tide them both over until dinner.
Most of the food they purchased that day would be saved for the party the next night, and she had tried to purchase just a little extra so that they would have enough for the entire week.
It was a pleasant outing, and while her driver/escort was not big on conversation, Elise was relatively comfortable with him and did trust that if she spent an extra penny on a piece of candy, he would not report it to Henry.
After lunch, they tucked all the baskets into the carriage and Elise settled down in her seat as the driver closed the door. She leaned back and tried to nap but was not hopeful with the way the carriage bounced around. She must have dozed off because before she knew it, the cook was shaking her knee and trying to get to the baskets that sat under her skirts.
Chapter Two
The next day was a whirlwind of preparation for yet another dining hall event. Henry loved to host such parties and show off how much food and drink he could provide. He usually invited the other estate owners in the area, and they brought their wives or mistresses. It was not uncommon for the men to bring these much younger ladies to the events just to show them off. Elise did say a small prayer of thanks that while she may not always enjoy the feasts, she at least was spared the humiliation of being banished for the mistress. She was almost certain that Henry had at least two but she just ignored that fact and was grateful that it was at least two nights per week that she did not have to entertain him in her bedroom.
The cook bustled around the kitchen like a madwoman as she prepared everything. Henry was off in town to fetch more alcohol for the party, so Elise was free most of the day. She finished the buttered bread and tea that made up her breakfast, and tried to help the cook in the kitchen. She was decently handy with a knife and set about.
“I just don’t know why we have to waste all this good food on people who can afford their own,” she mentioned to Abigail.
Abigail nodded, “I know what you mean, madam.”
Elise smiled back, “Perhaps you should fix two small plates for you and your husband.”
Abigail was married to the older man who had accompanied Elise to town the previous day.
“Oh, that would be wonderful, madam, thank you!”
“Just make sure to fix me one too, for lunch, and hide yours away just in case.”
Abigail nodded and made small sandwiches for her and Thomas. She wrapped them in a plain cloth with a large red apple, and tucked them away in the pockets of her cloak for later. The two of them would not be having dinner any time soon because they had to help serve at the gathering. But having a nice lunch would help get them through.
Elise often tried to pass a little extra food their direction. She knew that Henry did not mistreat his servants per se, but he did not pay them much either. And in the grand scheme of things, as long as Henry did not blatantly see the food walk away, he really would not notice the difference.
“You do take good care of us,” Abigail whispered.
“I try,” Elise smiled, “but don’t tell anyone.”
The two young women giggled together as they chopped the carrots and potatoes and onions that would be cooked with the large slices of ham. With everything in the huge pot to cook, they sat down to a cup of tea just as Thomas was entering the back door of the kitchen. He smiled sweetly to his wife and kissed her on the top of her head. The three of them sat quietly while they all sipped their tea and nibbled their sandwiches.
After the meat and vegetables were finished, it was almost time for people to start arriving. Elise helped Abigail and Thomas lay out the platters on the dining hall table and then went upstairs to get herself ready and presentable.
Her sweet maiden girl brushed out her long blonde curls and twisted them up into a topknot. Elise’s deep blue eyes sparkled against her pale skin and emerald gown. Henry knocked on the door impatiently, and she rose to greet him. They made their way down the winding stone stairs until they entered the noisy dining hall, arm in arm.
As was customary, there was additional food and beer and wine on the table as gifts to Henry. The entire group took their seats after Henry had been seated with Elise to his right.
The platters began swirling around the table as people loaded down their plates with boiled eggs, fresh ham, cooked carrots and potatoes, hot brown bread with fresh butter, several kinds of cheese, chutneys and pickled onions, crisp slices of apples, and salty cured fish. The mugs fairly overflowed with the wine and beer and honeyed water.
Elise politely took enough to almost fill her plate, making sure to take more of the gifts than of her own food. She had been raised to be a proper estate wife and hostess, and she was well-versed in the etiquette of such gatherings.
Eventually Abigail and Thomas noticed that the food consumption was dwindling and the alcohol consumption was growing so they started to clear the plates. No one stopped them from removing plates full of leftovers and Elise gave Abigail a small nod of approval if she was interested in helping herself. She knew that her cook would take enough for probably two meals for herself and Thomas, but would not abuse the generosity. Elise and Henry would plan to eat the remaining food over the next few days and Abigail would be able to steal a bite here and there.
The evening dragged on with the men bragging loudly about their exploits with their swords as they waved their beer mugs in the air, and the women nodded politely as they sipped small glasses of wine. Eventually everyone staggered back to their own homes, and Elise made a hasty retreat to her own bedroom before Henry could get any ideas of twilight entertainment.
Chapte
r Three
Elise woke early the next morning, and since she knew Henry would be sleeping off his party from the night before, she slipped into a casual cotton dress and snuck downstairs to the kitchen.
After a pleasant cup of tea with Abigail, she packed a ham sandwich into small knapsack and decided to take a walk through the countryside. She had confirmed with Abigail that some of the extra food had made its way to their small home within the estate grounds, and folded a shawl into her bag before heading out for her walk.
The sun was just beginning to creep into the sky, and it painted away the stars with strokes of pink and orange and yellow. It was already starting to warm up, and it seemed that the day would be a hot one. She berated herself for not bringing any clean water, but hoped to find a stream or pond during her walk.
While the estate grounds themselves were rimmed with a large stone wall, it was harder to tell property lines once you exited the wall gate. She knew that Henry owned more than their immediate property but she paid no attention to the exact boundaries.
She walked leisurely along the line of trees, letting the grass tickle the tops of her feet as it bowed in the wind, and listening to the birds as they flitted around in the branches. It was a most pleasant summer morning, despite the impending heat of the day.
As the sun slowly climbed to the peak of the sky, Elise found herself walking further and further into the trees. They provided much appreciated shade for her pale skin, and kept the worst of the heat at bay. She found a small pond in the middle of the grove, and spread out her shawl on the grass for lunch. She smiled as she pulled out her simple ham sandwich and found the generous chunk of cheese that Abigail had hidden away for her. She slipped her shoes off and wiggled her toes in the cool water as she ate. It was turning out to be a nearly perfect day.