One Taste

by Allison Hobbs

  “You gotta pipe?”

  Duke stared at her in disgust. “Where’s your shit?”

  “I’ve been clean for a minute.”

  “I ain’t got no pipe for you to borrow, but I’ll sell you a kit for ten bucks.” He reached under the desk and brought up a cylindrical glass tube and a mesh screen.

  Frowning, Onika examined the pipe. “That cheap shit will probably bust the minute I put some heat on it.”

  “Whatever,” Duke said, “You can walk around the corner to the store if you think you can get something better, but I can guarantee you, they gonna sell you the same shit. You know the deal, Onika. How they gonna get return customers if they sell sturdy-ass, unbreakable pipes? You gotta work with what you got.”

  “That’s fucked up,” she said, tossing Duke an additional ten dollars before trotting off to the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was back in room 207. She scowled as she examined her fingertips, which were charred from repeatedly flicking the flame to the pipe.

  “What happened? I was starting to worry about you,” Matt said, looking flustered.

  “I’m straight.” But Onika sounded far from straight. Her words were slightly garbled, like she didn’t quite know where to place her tongue.

  Horny as hell, Matt didn’t notice. Naked and lying prone, he beckoned her. “Come on, baby, we ain’t got a lot of time. Sit on my face real quick so my dick can get hard.”

  Feeling high enough to be able to put up with her limp-dick sugar daddy, Onika glided over to the bed, pulled off her panties, and straddled Matt’s face.

  Matt flicked his tongue against Onika’s clit and then gently trapped it between his teeth, tongue lashing it until Onika moaned. The sexy sounds that escaped her lips prompted Matt to jut his tongue into her opening. His tongue caressed her vaginal walls, licked places inside her pussy hole that his small penis could never reach. Using his tongue the way he wished he could use his dick, Matt jutted it in and out at a frenzied pace.

  “Fuck me, Mr. Wheeler; I need your big dick up in me.” Onika spoke the words without emotion, like a poorly trained actress in a porn flick.

  Matt knew his appendage was far from being big, but he loved that Onika found it to be so. “Here I come, baby,” he exclaimed, turning Onika on her back and spreading her legs. “I’m gonna give you all this big dick!” He started groaning and spurting cum before he even touched her vagina.

  Making the best of his quick ejaculation, Onika got up and raced to the bathroom to get a couple more hits. “Gotta go wash up; be right back.”

  “Hey, baby, what’s that smell?” Matt asked when she returned a few minutes later.

  Onika shrugged. “What smell?”

  “I don’t know.” He sniffed at the air. “Like a burning cigarette, but stronger.”

  Fury distorted her facial features. “How the hell am I supposed to know what goes on in this shit hole?” Glaring at him, she folded her arms in irritation. “Can you let me hold something?”

  “How much?” he asked warily.

  “A couple beans.”

  “You know I don’t speak that ghetto language, Onika. How much are you asking for?”

  “Two or three hundred dollars, or as much as you can give me.”

  “What for? You know I planned to put a down payment on that apartment Saturday, and you’re going to need furniture. Baby, I’m not rich; we’re going to have to tighten up a little.”

  “I need my hair done,” she said huffily. She frowned down at her nails. “All this cleaning and polishing I do on the job is fucking with my fingernails. I need a manicure, too.”

  Against his better judgment, but unable to refuse her request, Matt dug into his pocket and brought out a twenty and a ten. “Baby, this is all I have on me right now. You can get your nails done with this, can’t you?”

  She sucked her teeth. “What about my hair?” she asked sulkily and then snatched the bills from his hand.

  “I’ll have more cash tomorrow.” Matt sounded grieved.

  “How much?” Onika perked up.

  “I’ll try to get my hands on an extra hundred.”

  “That’s all?” Onika poked out her lips.

  “Or two,” Matt added. “Baby, please get back in bed. You’ve got me in the mood again. You look so sexy when you’re angry with me.”

  Onika rolled her eyes to show him just how angry she was. “I have to pee.”

  “Again?”

  “Yeah,” she responded with defiance. “Do you think I like walking all the way down the damn hall to take a piss?”

  Matt watched in silence as Onika sashayed out of the room. Two minutes later, she made another purchase from Duke and this time she stayed in the bathroom for twenty minutes.

  Onika came back to the room wearing a more pleasant expression than when she’d left. Taking advantage of her improved mood, Matt made a bold request. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.”

  His words drew a look of disbelief from Onika. “Why? You wanna try to hit it doggy-style?” As high as she was, she knew there was no way his little dick could accomplish that feat.

  “No, I want to do something else,” he said eagerly, breathing hard as he assisted in positioning her on all fours. He pried her legs apart, creating a lot of space between them. Then he crawled up behind her and began slowly licking her pussy from behind. Onika pushed her tiny ass up in the air to accommodate the pussy-licker, giving him plenty of access to her love hole. She could feel frenetic movement behind her and knew he was jerking himself off, which was fine with her.

  His tongue, in sync with his hand, worked at a feverish pace. He licked her pussy so fast and so deep, Onika seemed to vibrate until she released a glob of sticky honey. Matt lapped up every drop; he even sucked off the stickiness that was embedded in her pubic hairs. Making a young girl climax boosted Matt’s ego. He raised his head, beaming with pride.

  “You’re a freak, Mr. Wheeler,” Onika approved with a lazy grin.

  Back in his room after work later that night, Cochise, trying to forget the pained look in Shawna’s eyes, the hysteria in her voice, decided to work on his proposal. He wished he had access to a computer, but since he didn’t the proposal was handwritten. In a black and white composition book, Cochise had outlined a proposal to apply for a grant to train and provide gainful employment for recovering addicts, ex-cons, the outcasts from society who most often returned to unhealthy lifestyles due to their inability to earn a decent living.

  Cochise opened the top dresser drawer and groped around for a pen. As he rummaged through the drawer, his fingers touched upon a sharp edge. Curious, he pulled it out and instantly wished he hadn’t. It was a cheap metal picture frame. Instead of a glass covering, a dented dusty plastic square protected the photograph.

  At first he smiled sadly at the photograph. The painful memory slowly crept into his mind and then struck like a blow that made Cochise grunt in agony and stumble backward until his large, muscular body fell upon the creaky narrow bed. Rocking and moaning, Cochise cried out her name. Tierra. God help him…the pain was intense. He needed a drink.

  Raising up slightly, he looked around his barren room, his arm outstretched as if it were possible that a bottle of gin might miraculously materialize in his hour of need. He thought of taking his few dollars and hitting the nearest bar. But he endured the emotional turmoil until it passed and clear thinking returned.

  Instead of replacing the picture in the dresser drawer, Cochise carefully wrapped the photograph in a pillowcase and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. He pushed it into a far corner behind a pile of old T-shirts, seldom-worn sweaters, and other old clothing, where he wouldn’t likely come across Tierra’s picture anytime soon.

  CHAPTER 8

  Regina felt light-hearted and a little guilty, as if she was cheating on Matt with her new package. The vibrating penis with the clit-nibbling attachment had her all aglow and in a state of calm that was an entirely new sensation.
r />   Poor Matt had been replaced by an inanimate object, she mused sadly. Then, mentally shifting gears, she angrily reminded herself of the years of sexual frustration and how Matt seemed content to allow her to spend the rest of her life without ever experiencing an orgasm. He was so selfish. And she was also to blame. Seeking gratification from compulsive spending on unnecessary purchases was sick. She should have seen a shrink years ago. Surely a psychiatrist would have used some psychobabble to point out that Regina’s handbag fetish was a cry for a stiff dick.

  Matt was still asleep. Knowing he was probably worn out from working his two jobs all week, she didn’t want to disturb him and began dressing as quickly and quietly as possible.

  On Saturdays Regina and Matt usually went out to eat or they stayed at home and ate something that was easy to prepare, but after another bout with her new sex toy, she felt hungry and was in a good enough mood to want to cook a good meal for her husband.

  The moment she slipped on a pair of pumps, Matt woke up. “Where are you off to so early in the morning?”

  “Shopping.”

  Conveniently forgetting that he’d contributed money toward a new designer bag, he gave her a look of displeasure.

  Regina smiled at her husband. “I’m going out to get something for dinner. I thought we’d have a candlelight dinner at home tonight. Are you in the mood for some seafood lasagna, sautéed vegetables, homemade rolls, and your favorite…peach cobbler?”

  Matt sat up, grimacing as he scratched his head. “I’m not sure if I’m going to be home for dinner, baby. The workload is really piling up and we didn’t finish up everything last night. That crew of mine does as little as possible and you know what they say, if you want something done…”

  “I know, Matt. But they’re paid to do a job. You shouldn’t have to pick up behind them.”

  “That’s true, but I can’t make those good-for-nothings take pride in a business that doesn’t belong to them. Look, I’m the one who has to take the flack if folks come to work on Monday morning and find trash overflowing and floors unpolished. But don’t worry, baby. I’ve already started a proposal to get some more help. Things will be back to normal before you know it.”

  Regina looked crestfallen. She was really looking forward to spending some quality time with her husband. She was looking forward to putting on some sexy lingerie and convincing him, despite his old-fashioned morality, to nibble on her clit. The thought made her laugh. But really, if he couldn’t get the job done the traditional way, maybe he should consider giving her oral sex. Hell, it was worth a try. And after twenty years of marriage, she felt that perhaps she could let go of her own inhibitions and learn how to give her husband head. Drastic measures were necessary; their sex life was a disgrace.

  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot…”

  She peered at him.

  “Uh…you wouldn’t happen to still have that money I gave you the other day, would you?”

  “Sure, why?”

  “I’m running short on cash. I didn’t realize a business owner should try to stay ahead of his taxes. My accountant said I need to pay the IRS a little something every quarter, that way I won’t get all jammed up at tax time.”

  She’d looked forward to spending an evening with Matt. Resignedly, Regina opened her purse and gave him the four fifties.

  Trying to figure out what to do with her unplanned free time, Regina sat on the bed, elbows resting on her knees, with her hands cupping her face.

  In a flash, Matt was up and dressed. Before she even gathered her thoughts and found the words to ask Matt if they could possibly plan something for later on that evening, Matt kissed her on the cheek and galloped down the stairs.

  It was a well-cared-for apartment complex. Compared to the raunchy neighborhood where he picked his crew up, the complex’s location off Providence Road, on East Twenty-fourth Street in Chester, was idyllic. They were shown two apartments. The one-bedroom was more fitting with Matt’s budget, but Onika insisted on the more expensive of the two—the one with a den and a view of the park and a running stream.

  Matt filled out the paperwork, paid the deposit, and was told he could pick up the keys on Monday.

  “Is my name gonna be on the lease?” Onika wanted to know.

  The rental agent looked puzzled. “Why, no. The name on the lease is the person with the credit rating.” The woman looked at Matt. “Do you want me to run a credit check on your…”

  “My wife,” Matt said, his face revealing his discomfort. Onika’s mouth opened in wide protest, but Matt shot her a look.

  The rental agent hit some keys on a computer. “Your name?” she asked Onika.

  “Regina Wheeler,” Matt blurted and then provided his wife’s social security number. Eyeing Onika suspiciously, the woman keyed in the numbers.

  After a few moments, she said, “Okay, you have A-1 credit, Mrs…uh…Wheeler, and of course your name can be added to the lease.”

  “Mrs. Wheeler,” Onika repeated with mocking laughter. “Yeah, it’s cool to be on the lease and everything, but y’all better make sure you cut an extra key. As long as I have my own key, I don’t care about the lease. Feel me?” she asked the befuddled rental agent. The agent nodded uncertainly.

  Before leaving the rental office, Matt made a few polite parting remarks. Impatiently, Onika looked at the time, displayed in colorful digital numbers that lit up the screen of her new device. “I’m ready when you are,” she said, screwing up her lips.

  Matt gave the agent a limp smile and hurried Onika out of the office.

  They left the building and walked toward the parking lot. “Damn, Mr. Wheeler. You know we still gotta go look at some furniture. Why you gotta be bustin’ it up with that white heifer like she’s somebody important. She ain’t nobody; she just works there.”

  “I was being polite, Onika. What’s wrong with your attitude lately? You’ve been so edgy and unpleasant. What happened to my sweetie pie?” He gazed at her with a mixture of confusion and adoration. His fingers sought to lift her chin affectionately, but Onika dodged his touch by sharply turning her head.

  “I saw a bangin’ bedroom set. It was advertised at a furniture store at the Tri-State Mall in Claymont, Delaware,” she said with a happy lilt to her voice. “They don’t have state taxes in Delaware, so you can probably save a stack. Wanna go check it out?”

  Matt looked troubled. “Not today, baby girl. I just put a lot of money down on our place, and…”

  “I thought it was my place,” she interrupted.

  “You know what I mean. It’s your place, but I’ll be spending a lot of time there with you.”

  “So, whatchu saying? You just gonna pop over anytime you feel like it?”

  “No, not at all. I’d never invade your privacy like that. I’d always call or make arrangements ahead of time.”

  “So, you won’t need that extra key, will you?”

  Hurt, Matt winced. “I’d like to have a key, Onika. Suppose something happens…an emergency or something? Don’t you think it would be a good idea for me to have the extra key? And as I said, I would never use it without your permission.”

  Onika murmured unhappily.

  “Anything special you’d like to do with the rest of our day, sweetheart?” he asked, putting his arm around her.

  “I told you what I want to do,” she snapped. “I guess you expect me to sleep on the floor or something.”

  “Onika,” Matt said patiently. “You’ll have a bedroom set. I know some places that sell like-new furniture. I’ll pick up a set for you next week.”

  “Why can’t I pick out my own bedroom set? And what makes you think I wanna sleep on something that a bunch of other niggas been sleeping on? I don’t want no used damn furniture. You’re full of shit. You promised to give me a couple hundred for pocket money, now you crying broke and can’t even buy me new furniture.”

  “Baby—” Matt reached for her but Onika jerked away.

  Conveying her displeasure, she
poked out her lips and pulled out her cell. “Yo, let me speak to that new blackout—um, what’s her name?” Onika looked upward as she tried to recall the blackout’s name. “You know,” she spat into the phone, sounding annoyed that the person on the other end of the phone didn’t immediately provide her with the name of the person she wanted to talk to. “The one who came in last night dressed in them hot-ass winter clothes.” Onika giggled at the memory. “Nicole! Yeah, that’s her name.” Onika cut an eye at Matt, who looked unhappy and confused. “She ain’t there? Where the hell she at? Oh, my bad. I forgot the blackouts had to go to four meetings today. Well, what time do you expect her to be back? Oh, okay. Well, do me a favor?” Onika yelled into the phone. “I’ll be back at the house in a short. Tell Nicole I need her to do my hair.” She ended the call, and then tucked the cell inside her purse. She gave Matt a smug smile.

  “Since you can’t afford to get my hair done, I made other arrangements. One of the blackouts is gonna do my hair. But I have to wash and condition it myself, so let’s go. Drop me off at the womens’ house,” she said snidely.

  Matt glanced down at his watch anxiously. “You’re ready to leave me already? I made plans to spend the day with you.”

  “Sorry,” she said dryly. She smoothed back the coarse hair at her temples. “I need a perm. I can’t go around another day with my hair looking like this.”

  “If I give you the money to get your hair done, can you spend some time with me?” he asked pitifully.

  She pondered the question. “I guess…but I’m gonna need eighty dollars.”

  “Eighty dollars! Onika, my wife only spends fifty dollars at the hair salon.”

  Onika shot Matt a look that made him recoil. “I don’t give a fuck what your dumb-ass wife spends on her hair. She’s probably getting something fucked up like a press and curl. And don’t be comparing me to no other bitches. My ’do costs eighty dollars. Either you got it or you don’t. You told me I was getting two hundred dollars, you should be glad I’m only hitting you up for eighty.” She rolled her eyes. “Fuck it. Keep your damn money.” Onika turned abruptly and started walking fast toward Matt’s car.