These Are My Confessions

by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome

  let’s not chat the day away. go out and get the cam so we can get the ball rolling.

  speaking of balls rolling…[I typed]

  lol. get the webcam and maybe the rest can be arranged. my wife and i are really into role playing. can you and your girlfriend act something out for us?

  don’t see why not.

  Melony called me while I was standing in line buying the webcam. “You are just the person that I wanted to talk to,” I said. “My sister’s staying over Tony’s tonight. Can you come over and keep me company?”

  “I can be there in a couple hours.”

  “Do you mind if we role-play tonight?”

  “Why would I mind that? Anything for my baby,” she said.

  “I’ll be waiting for you. Oh, don’t ring the doorbell. Take down the code to the garage door. I want to start our role-play as soon as you enter the house.”

  “Okay, but who am I playing?”

  “The sexy nurse coming for a house call.”

  “Mmm, there’s a few things I can bring over.”

  I had set up the webcam to record the guest bedroom. I tested the picture quality with asexymarriedcouple to make sure they could see the room. The show was going to start in less than thirty minutes, I assured them, and our show ran without advance previews so their early request for me to reveal myself was denied.

  When I heard the garage door open and the alarm chime to indicate someone had opened the door leading from the garage to the kitchen, I immediately went into action and started crying real tears, a gift I’d acquired from childhood.

  Melony rushed through the bedroom door and found me sitting on the side of the bed with a thin sheet draping my naked body. “What’s wrong, Alexis?”

  My eyes popped open when she walked through the door in white lace-up and Oxford platform high-heeled pumps with a red cross on the toe, and holding a doctor’s bag. She was wearing a naughty red and white nurse’s outfit with red rubber gloves and a stethoscope hanging around her neck that had a purple penis dangling at the end.

  “Why couldn’t the doctor come?” I asked.

  “Well, the hospital has rules about treating patients who don’t have insurance, but I could tell from our phone conversation that you were in real need of some emergency medical treatment.”

  “Nurse Melony, thank you so much for coming over. I’m really worried that I may be sick. I fucked a man with a twelve inch dick and I haven’t felt right ever since.” Both Melony and I sounded like a couple of B actresses.

  “I’ll need to give you an exam to make sure everything is still intact down there.”

  “But I’m so sore I can barely move. My pussy feels like it’s on fire.”

  “A burning sensation could mean a venereal disease. I’ll need to take a culture swab. Lie on the table flat on your back so I can take a look.”

  I did what she’d asked. “Now put your legs in these stirrups,” she said, pulled out a pair of wrist and ankle cuffs and tied me to the bed with the straps that were attached. “Slide your lower body toward me so I can take a look.”

  Melony sat on the bar stool that I’d taken from the kitchen. She pulled the sheet away from my body so she could see my lower half in full view. “I’ll need to do a pelvic.”

  She stood from the chair, walked closer to me and bent down. She opened her doctor’s case and removed a metal speculum that she inserted inside of me so she could spread my pussy open. She put her latex-gloved finger inside of me, and it began vibrating while she pressed her other hand down on my stomach. “Everything feels normal. Is that painful?”

  “Not at all,” I moaned.

  She removed her finger, took off the fingertip vibrator and the glove, and then reinserted her bare finger inside of me. “Does that feel any better?”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  “This is better for me to gauge how wet your pussy is getting. Now let me take some cultures to make sure that big dick didn’t give you an STD.” She stuck her head between my legs and covered her head with the sheet, and within seconds her tongue was licking my clit.

  “That sure doesn’t feel like a Q-tip,” I said.

  She stopped licking and said, “Our clinic is in short supply so I had to improvise.”

  I held her head between my legs and tossed the sheet off of my body so the webcam could catch Melony in action.

  “There are just a few more procedures I need to perform and then I should be on my way.”

  “Okay, and those are?”

  “I need to do a full breast exam, and then a pap smear.”

  “The pap smear hurts so much.”

  “I’ll try to be gentle. Which do you want me to do first?”

  “The pap smear, since I’m already in the stirrups.”

  She walked over to the light switch and flicked it off. Her purple stethoscope was glowing in the dark. “I need to check your vaginal beat.”

  “What kind of nurse are you?”

  “A nurse that wants your pussy. You said you had twelve inches inside of you. Well, this is eighteen inches long and two inches wide.”

  “I can’t handle all of that.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re going to share.”

  I realized that with the light off, the webcam couldn’t record the action. “Can you turn the light back on? I want to see you gettin’ some too.”

  She flipped the light switch on, slid one end of the dildo inside of her, and then stood between my legs. “Do you want me to take it fast or slow?”

  “Do whatever you feel.”

  “I feel like fucking,” she said as she rammed the other end inside me.

  My moans became so loud, I was afraid my sister’s next door neighbors, who were sitting on their back porch, might hear me. She climbed on top of me and I wrapped my legs around her back and enjoyed every second of the vibration her lower half was causing mine to have.

  Melony left before morning, afraid that my sister might come home early. A few hours later I logged on to check my e-mail.

  Asexymarriedcouple wrote:

  we’d like to meet you and the nurse asap. my wife is also in need of some emt.

  “Explain all of this to me again,” Melony said on the phone the next day, after I tried telling her about the married couple and how his wife wanted to meet her for sex. She didn’t seem to fully understand how I was willing to share her with another woman. She appeared hurt and offended. “I thought your feelings for me were genuine.”

  “They are, Melony, but I still need to get this urge of mine out of my system.”

  “And you want to do that by having me screw some man’s wife so you can screw her husband? How did you even meet these people?”

  “Online.”

  “Online, Alexis? You met them online, and now you’re going to their house to have sex with them? Do you know how dangerous that is? Why would you even want to do that?”

  “I’m not sure why, but one thing I don’t feel like is being judged. All my life I’ve played it safe, and all that got me was a bunch of men who didn’t want to do anything for me, just wanted to use me for whatever I was worth. Now, I want to be the one in control for a change. I want to be the person using someone for what they’re worth. I’m tired of faking my orgasms…I want to have one.”

  “I don’t make you come?” Melony asked.

  “Yes, you do, but I want to have an orgasm with a man, Melony.” I walked into the garage and got in my sister’s car. “I’m on my way to their house.”

  “Don’t go over to someone’s house that you don’t know. Are you out of your mind?”

  I started the engine. “Don’t let me go by myself. Meet me there so nothing will happen. You don’t want to be the lead detective investigating my murder, do you?” I said as I pulled out of the garage.

  “Like I keep telling you, you’re playing with fire, and one day, Alexis—”

  “I’m going to get burned. I know, but I thought my woman would protect me.”

&nb
sp; She laughed. “Amazing how I conveniently became your woman when you want me to do something.” There was a few seconds of silence. “There is no way I would go to a stranger’s house for sex.”

  “Forget it. I won’t go either, but I’m getting some big dick tonight somehow,” I said before ending the call.

  Later, I spent a couple hours milling through e-mails, looking at the attachments of penises that were locking up my in-box. One e-mail in particular caught my eye. Anaconda said he needed someone to suck the venom from his huge snake, and he sent over a picture of himself sucking his own. That’s when I realized that I was dealing with some real freaks. I didn’t want that anymore. I’d been talking on the phone to Lester all summer. The only thing that prevented me from meeting with him was when he told me he wanted to be choked. But I’d rather choke a man out of play than watch a man choke on himself for pleasure, so I called Lester and finally arranged a face-to-face meeting.

  We arranged to meet at Sambuca’s, a jazz club in uptown Dallas. I went and waited for a while, but when it appeared that I’d been stood up, I left with a different man, whom I’d met that evening, and the two of us went to a hotel. I thought he was a complete stranger, only to discover that he was Lester, the man I’d been chatting with, doing what he said he did best—playing games. But things went terribly wrong that night. I’d finally gotten what I wanted—almost. At the height of his climax, it was time for me to strangle him, even though I hadn’t come yet. I strapped the belt around his neck, but maybe I did it a little too firmly and held on longer than I should have. It was an accident, I kept trying to convince myself.

  “Melony, where are you?” I whispered through my cell phone.

  “I’m at work. Where do you think I am? You finally decided to answer your phone.”

  “Melony, I need your help. I got burned…badly. I can’t say too much over the phone.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “Very. Things got out of hand.”

  “Don’t say any more. Just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

  The Black Widow Strikes Again

  I was in tears when I opened the door. Melony was standing there dressed all in black and wearing a pair of leather gloves.

  She stepped inside the hotel room. “What happened?”

  “I’ve been playing with fire and I got burned, just like you told me I would.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll listen to me from now on.” She walked around the room. “What did you touch?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “You had to touch something,” she said as she walked across the room and looked down at the dead body. “You touched the doorknob when you let me in. I’ll have to remove it before I leave. There’s too much of your DNA in this room. We’re going to have to burn it.”

  “Cause a fire? I’ve already killed one person. I don’t want to kill any more.”

  “You won’t kill any more. These hotels have sprinklers. I just need a little fire to get rid of the DNA and to make it look like this is the workings of the Black Widow.”

  She removed a tube of red lipstick from her bag and wrote across the mirror:

  The Widow Black has struck again

  XXX

  “You write just like her,” I said with concern. “I watched the news special. Her writing is very distinctive.”

  “Okay, well, I’m a detective and I’ve worked the case so I’ve seen a lot of the evidence.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “Who killed this man, me or you? There’s a party going on in the second floor ballroom. It’s a public party. I need you to take the elevator to the second floor, pay whatever they’re charging. Don’t sign a guest book, just walk around and be seen—that way, if someone remembers you from this evening, you can always say you were there for the party. When I’m getting ready to set the fire, I’ll call you. Don’t answer. That’s when I want you to leave and go to my house. I’ll meet you there.”

  It took nearly an hour for Melony to call me. I wondered what she’d been doing up there for all that time, but as soon as my cell phone rang and I saw her name on my caller ID, I did as she instructed. I didn’t answer, but I did leave the hotel and headed to her house. I had the key she’d given me weeks earlier and so I let myself in. I wanted to look around. See if there was any evidence that could link Melony to the Black Widow, but then there was that part of me that didn’t really want to know. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that her writing matched exactly, or maybe it wasn’t exact. The only thing I did remember the news special saying was that the Black Widow most likely used the Internet to meet her victims, which put me at ease because Melony didn’t even own a computer.

  I curled up in her bed and went to sleep.

  In the morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Melony had come home and cooked me breakfast.

  “Good morning,” she said, as she set the tray of food on the bed. “I took care of everything. You don’t have anything at all to worry about. They linked the murder to the Black Widow. There’s no DNA and they’re just as baffled by this case as they are by all the rest.”

  “I’m so drained.”

  She started rubbing her fingers through my hair. “Well, you probably just need to get some more rest. You had a crazy night. I won’t disturb you.”

  “You just got off work. Don’t you want to take a nap?” I asked.

  “No, not now. I’m kind of wired up.”

  “But I want you to take one with me. Are you going to turn me in?”

  She shook her head. “I’m an accessory so I can’t turn you in, but even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t turn you in, because I’m in love with you.”

  “You’re still in love with me even though I killed someone?”

  “We all make mistakes,” she said as she walked to the closet and pulled out a black bag.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “My lap top. I have some work to do.”

  “You have a lap top? I didn’t know that. I’ve never seen you use it before. Is it new?”

  “No, I’ve had this for a little while. I just don’t use it that often.”

  “So why are you using it now?”

  “Like I said, I have some work to do. Go to sleep, baby. I’ll join you soon enough.”

  When she left the room, I sprung up from the bed, but I was too afraid to leave the room. I didn’t want her thinking that I suspected her, but now it was starting to come together. Now I could link her to a computer, which was a means for the Black Widow to meet her victims. Why had Melony been in the hotel room so long? Was she recreating the crime scene to make it look even more like the work of the Black Widow? Or was I just tripping because I’d killed someone and I didn’t want to be the only murderer in the household. I climbed back in the bed, under the sheets, and closed my eyes trying to put the past well behind me. My entire summer vacation was a waste, not just of time, but also of a life. I’d come here because everything was supposed to be bigger in Texas, and I was hoping the same held true when it came to the men. But the only person I was able to find who was truly strapped and could satisfy me was a woman—a woman who had to strap one on—a woman who just might be the Black Widow serial killer.

  I couldn’t get back to sleep, but I did manage to eat some of the food Melony had brought. After a few hours she joined me in the bed, but turned her back toward me while she lay there. I asked if something was wrong and she said nothing so I left it alone.

  “When are you going back to Detroit?” she asked a few minutes later.

  “Next week. Why, are you going to miss me?”

  “Well, honestly, I was thinking about going back with you.”

  “But what about your job? You’re going to quit it? And what about your house?”

  “I’m sure I can get on with the Detroit Police Department. Just like I’m sure I can sell this house. But I’ll only come if you want me to. Do you?” I hesitated. I mean, did I? That was a g
ood question. Even if I was stretching my imagination and she wasn’t the Black Widow, would I want her to follow me home? In Dallas, I could act out a few fantasies and no one would be the wiser. But in Detroit, I’d have to answer to some folks who would be all in my business. Like Nancy, for one.

  “I guess you don’t,” Melony said, waiting on my answer. “I guess I was just your summer fling.”

  “The summer isn’t over yet,” I said as I snuggled up next to her to initiate our lovemaking. She wasn’t expecting that, but I felt that I at least owed her that much. She’d gotten me out of a jam, and since sex was a stress reliever, we had might as well relieve some.

  “Do you feel bad about what you did to that man?” she asked as I was playing in her long locks.

  “Not really.” I kissed her soft lips.

  “I can tell. So why don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure. The way I look at it, if he had a choking fetish, he was probably going to get killed sooner or later. The only thing I’m upset about is that the sex wasn’t even worth it. I didn’t even have an orgasm.”

  “Do you realize that less than twenty-four hours ago you killed a man, and now you’re still thinking about sex?”

  “It was an accident. I mean, I wasn’t the one playing with fire…he was. In fact, in some ways, I wish that I really was the Black Widow,” I said, hoping to bait her in, but it didn’t work. She didn’t say a word, except to tell me she wasn’t in the mood for sex that evening.

  The First Day of School

  “Did you hear my story, Miss Cartwright?” one of my students asked, snapping me from my thoughts of the summer I’d had; a summer that I couldn’t share with my students the way they were doing with me and the rest of the class on their first day of school. While some of my students could boast of a trip to Disney World or a summer they spent out of state with relatives, many others remained in Detroit the entire summer highlighting a concert they attended at the Fox Theatre of a famous urban or hip hop artist like Kanye West, or a day at the State Fair.