by C. J. Hudson
“Please, Mr. McCord, are you sure that there’s nothing I can do to change your mind? We have two kids and just bought a house. My husband really needs this job.”
Darnell looked up at her. Her light brown eyes held the tears of a desperate woman at the end of her rope. And that was just the way he liked it. He leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his head.
“You know, Lawrence is a good worker, so I guess I could be convinced to hire him back. But the question is, what are you willing to do to make that happen?”
Theresa looked down at Darnell’s crotch and noticed that he had a raging hard-on. The fact that he wasn’t even trying to conceal it told her exactly what he had on his mind.
“Anything,” she said seductively as she slowly got down on her knees and reached for his zipper. As she unzipped his pants, Darnell could see her nipples hardening underneath her blouse. It was obvious that she was getting turned on too. Theresa then proceeded to open her mouth wide and wrap her thick lips around his meat. She started gently sucking the head, but she had engulfed the entire length of his shaft before long. With each suck, she convinced herself more and more that she was doing this for her family. McCord Construction paid their employees exceptionally well, around $60,000 a year, and there was no way she was going to let her husband fuck up making that kind of money just because she wasn’t willing to suck his boss’s dick. Hell, she’d sucked other dicks for free, so this decision was a no-brainer. Theresa gagged slightly as Darnell’s meat grew in her mouth.
“Damn, bitch,” he moaned in ecstasy as he pushed it down her throat. Truth be told, Theresa was enjoying herself. Darnell’s penis was at least three inches longer than her husband’s. Her pussy suddenly got moist. She yearned to feel him inside of her. Abruptly, she stopped blowing him and stood up. Darnell frowned, thinking that she was calling it quits.
“Hey, bitch, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get back on your knees and finish the fucking job.”
With a lustful look in her eyes, Theresa ignored Darnell’s command. Instead, she just lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down. After taking them off, she threw them on the floor and walked over to the window. She leaned against the glass, placed both hands on it, and spread her legs.
“Fuck me, Mr. McCord. Please, come, fuck me,” she purred.
Darnell looked at her plump ass and smiled. With his dick pointing straight out, he opened his desk drawer and took out a magnum-sized condom. After slipping it on, he took his pants off. Darnell gave her ass two hard slaps before placing the head of his dick just inside her moist lips.
“You want this dick, bitch?” he asked, taunting her.
“Oh my God, yes. I want it.”
“How bad do you want it?”
“Oh God, I want it really bad,” she answered honestly. Darnell gripped her hips and started pumping in and out. Theresa’s pussy sounded like a soapy washcloth being squeezed as he fucked her.
“You know, slut pussy is the best pussy,” he whispered in her ear. Thinking about her husband suddenly caused Darnell to get angry. He just couldn’t understand how a sister this fine could fall for a white boy. The thought alone caused him to pound her walls with even more force.
“Say it, bitch. Say you’re a slut!”
“Oh fuck, I’m a slut. I’m such a fuckin’ slut,” she yelled.
“Say you ain’t no good, bitch! Say you ain’t . . . no . . . mutha . . . fuckin’ . . . good.”
Each word Darnell spat coincided with a thrust of his dick deep inside Theresa’s love cavity. Because he thought she was a sellout for marrying a white man, Darnell took great pleasure in humiliating her. In fact, it was turning him on.
“Say it, bitch!” he yelled, slamming into her. Darnell was fucking Theresa so hard, the windows threatened to shatter.
“Ooooh shit, I just ain’t no fuckin’ good!”
Hearing her bend to his will pushed Darnell over the climax threshold. His nut was fast approaching, so he had to act soon. Pulling her back from the window, he withdrew his dick, spun her around, and forced her back down on her knees.
“Open your mouth, bitch!”
Theresa opened her jaws wide and got ready to receive her naughty gift. Darnell grunted loudly and squirted load after load of come into her face and down her throat.
“Oh shit, baby, that was some of the best pussy I ever had.”
“So, can my husband have his job back?” Theresa asked, wiping his seed from her face.
Because he felt like being an asshole, Darnell just stared at her, thus giving her the impression that she’d been played. After about ten seconds, though, he let her off the hook.
“I’ll have my secretary call him. He can report to work tomorrow morning. Have a nice day,” he said, dismissing her as he pulled his pants back up.
A sense of relief washed over Theresa. In her mind, she did what she felt she had to do. A broad smile was plastered on her face as she headed for the door. As she was walking down the hallway, she passed the secretary’s desk. The lady sitting behind it looked up at her, shook her head, and smirked.
“Don’t judge me, bitch. You don’t know shit about me,” she mumbled loud enough for the woman to hear. Her mission now complete, Theresa strolled through the exit with her head held high.
* * *
For the last five years, Larry had brought home a steady paycheck. Food was always on the table. The bills were always paid. His family never had to sit in the dark because the electricity was cut off. There was never a time when his family felt that he would let them down. Now, all because of a night of lust and a lack of sleep, he was unemployed. It scared him shitless to think that his wife would leave him because he no longer had a job.
Larry had been sitting at the bar for the past three hours, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of vodka. In his mind, he felt that he needed to be intoxicated in order to go home and reveal to his wife that he’d lost his job. He cringed as he remembered the look on her face when they’d moved into their new house. He also remembered how happy his kids were. The apartment they were living in was nice, but nothing compared to the three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom home they were now living in.
No fewer than five times in the last thirty minutes had Larry contemplated going to Mr. McCord’s office and begging for his job back. But that thought had disappeared almost as soon as it had entered his brain. Larry was a proud man. The last thing he wanted to do was go back crawling on his hands and knees. For a split second, Larry foolishly thought about trying to blackmail his boss. Although he had no way of proving it, Larry had heard the rumors circulating throughout the construction site about his boss being a drug dealer. He quickly laughed that idea right out of his head. He wasn’t about to snitch on a man as wealthy and connected as Mr. McCord, especially when he couldn’t prove anything. Larry held up his empty glass and shook it, signaling to the bartender that he was ready for another drink.
“You sure, buddy?” the bartender asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
The bartender hesitated. He didn’t want to be responsible for Larry leaving the bar pissy drunk and having a fatal accident on the way home. “I don’t know, my friend. You’ve been putting them down pretty hard the last few hours. Maybe I should just call you an Uber so that you can go home and—”
“Look, man. I just lost my fucking job, and I have to figure a way to pay for the house I just bought. I don’t need an Uber or a counseling session. What I need is another drink.”
The bartender picked up the bottle of Ketel One and looked at it. He was still on the fence about whether he would serve Larry another drink.
“Look, man, this is my last one. After this one, I’m going to have to go home and face the music.”
The bartender nodded slowly and reluctantly poured Larry another shot. He just had to hope and pray that he wasn’t giving the man the last drink he would ever have in his life.
“Thanks,” Larry said, as he quickly
tossed the liquor to the back of his throat. After swallowing his drink, Larry smirked and shook his head. He couldn’t believe how hard it was to find gainful employment. Had he found another job, he wouldn’t have felt so bad. But he’d been pounding the pavement all day and hadn’t come close to getting hired. After paying his tab, Larry took a deep breath and slid off the bar stool. He wobbled slightly as he headed for the exit.
The bartender watched him intently. He was impressed. He didn’t think Larry would make it five feet before he keeled over, but much to his surprise, Larry was walking as straight as an arrow after his initial wobble. Just as he was about to walk through the exit, a large man wearing a Cleveland Browns jacket made his way inside of the bar. He had an angry scowl on his face, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists. The look in his eyes was borderline maniacal. His head swiveled around and came to a stop at the far corner of the bar where a man and woman were making out. Seemingly in a fit of rage, the man in the Browns jacket stormed toward them. He was so focused on the couple that he bumped into Larry and nearly knocked him to the floor. The man was halfway to the couple when the woman noticed him. As soon as she did, she tried to push herself away from her cuddle buddy.
“Stop playing, baby,” the man said, openly fondling the woman. “You know I like to feel on those big—” Before he could even finish the sentence, the man wearing the Browns jacket grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him to his feet. The shocked man never had time to react before a punch to the gut doubled him over.
“Mike! Stop!” the woman yelled. She slid out from the booth and tried to grab Mike’s arm. Mike responded by roughly shoving her back down.
“Shut the fuck up! You wanna cozy up with another man’s wife, huh?” he yelled, looking down at the man he’d just hit. “Well, you picked the wrong woman, pal.”
Mike picked up the man and delivered another blow to his midsection. Every drop of air seemed to expel from the man’s lungs as he fell back down. Now in the fetal position, the man desperately tried to catch his breath while holding his stomach.
“Stay . . . the . . . fuck . . . away . . . from my . . . wife!” Mike screamed. A kick to the ribs punctuated each word. Mike then grabbed his wife and dragged her toward the door. The other bar patrons froze. They were shocked that the bartender hadn’t made a move to call the police. Right after Mike had dragged his wife from the bar, a few of the men went over to check on the man that he’d assaulted. One of the patrons, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, walked up to the bar and glared at the bartender.
“Didn’t you see that? Didn’t you see what that savage did to that poor woman? He just dragged her out of here like some kind of caveman.”
The bartender’s mouth fell open. He found it interesting that the woman was angry about the way the man had dragged his wife out of the bar but hadn’t said a thing about how he’d beat the shit out of the man.
“Why didn’t you call the damn police?”
The bartender leaned forward and got face-to-face with the woman. “First of all, it’s kind of fucked up the way you’re so concerned with a man pulling his cheating wife out of a bar, but not with what happened to that poor slob over there lying on the floor.”
“Well, I—”
“And second of all, why didn’t you call the police?”
The woman opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was like so many other bystanders. Most people wanted the right thing to be done . . . as long as they didn’t have to be the ones who did it.
“That’s what the fuck I thought,” the bartender said. “But to answer your question, I didn’t call the police because the police was already here.”
“Well, why didn’t he stop that guy? Where the fuck is he?” she asked, looking around, confused.
“He just dragged his wife out of here.” The bartender then walked away, leaving the woman standing there shocked.
“Well, damn,” Larry mumbled to himself as he walked out of the bar. He knew that policemen generally got away with shit that regular citizens couldn’t, but this seemed way over the top to him. The sad part about it, he thought, was that nothing would ever be done about it. Even if she went to file charges against her husband, the so-called blue wall of silence would, no doubt, protect him. Larry just shook his head in amazement as he pulled up next to the curb. He knew that he was slightly inebriated, so he didn’t want to take the chance of pulling into the garage and tearing off his rearview mirror or accidentally sideswiping his wife’s car.
“I should have known that this bitch was going to be here,” he complained when he noticed Kelly’s car parked in front of his. Kelly was his wife’s best friend of twenty years. He and Kelly had never seen eye to eye, but he tolerated her snide remarks and condescending attitude because he loved his wife. Well, today, she was going to have to leave because he had some things that he needed to talk over with his wife. Larry was just about to unlock his door and walk into his house when his cell phone buzzed. He thought briefly about ignoring it, but something in the back of his mind told him to answer it. He looked at the screen and was pleasantly shocked when he saw the name McCord Construction appear on it.
“He . . . hello?”
“Yes, Mr. Burns? This is Eunice. Mr. McCord has instructed me to get in touch with you and inform you that he may be willing to give you your job back, with one stipulation, of course.”
Larry nearly jumped ten feet in the air. Whatever stipulation his boss wanted to impose would be fine with him if he could get his job back.
“Yes, of course. Whatever he wants.”
“Well, as punishment for sleeping on the job, he’s cutting your pay by two dollars an hour.” Larry’s smile faded. He didn’t like that one bit, but after some quick thinking, he decided that he would still be making more than the average construction worker even with the pay cut.
“Mr. Burns? Can you live with that?”
“Yes . . . Yes, I can.”
“Good. Report to work tomorrow morning. And remember, this is the only second chance you’re going to get.”
Eunice hung up before Larry even had a chance to thank her, but that didn’t bother him in the least. He was just happy to get his job back. He didn’t know what had caused Mr. McCord to change his mind, and quite frankly, he didn’t give a shit. He was so happy, he danced from the front of the yard to the back of the house. When he was done celebrating, Larry unlocked the back door and walked through it.
The door led to the kitchen, which was attached to the dining room. As Larry stepped into the kitchen, he heard his wife and Kelly giggling. Being the nosy fellow he was, he stopped to see what was causing their laughter. However, it was a decision that he would soon come to regret.
Standing there, frozen with shock, Larry listened to his wife reveal to her best friend how she went about getting her husband his job back. Every sordid detail that passed over her lips and into his unsuspecting ears was like sharp razors slicing and cutting their way through his heart. Larry trembled with rage. He had no idea how she’d found out that he’d lost his job, but right now, he wasn’t concerned about that. He was so mad that he couldn’t see straight. He balled up his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He felt like such a fool. Here he was thinking that Mr. McCord was giving him his job back because maybe he’d realized that Larry was a valuable employee—when the truth of the matter was that he was being rehired because of his wife’s bedroom skills.
Larry wanted nothing more but to go into the dining room and murder his wife and her bitch of a friend. In fact, he’d planned on doing just that until he heard his wife mention his daughter’s name. The thought of his kids growing up with no parents gave him pause. He would have to find another way to get back at her. With a sinister smirk on his face, he left from the back of the house and texted her sister. Now, he was going to fuck her every chance he got. After making plans to hook up with her, Larry got back into his car and pulled off.
“If it weren’t
for my kids, I woulda killed that bitch,” he mumbled to himself. He thought about the irony in the fact that a policeman could beat the shit out of his wife’s lover in a public place and not have to suffer any consequences, but had he done that, he would surely have been arrested.
Maybe I need a career change, he thought, an idea forming in his head.
Chapter 3
Two days . . . All he had to do was wait two days. However, because of his desire to be a super cop, Warren decided that it would look better if he took down Darnell McCord alone. No one, not even his partner, had a clue of what he’d planned to do. To speed up the process, he called Darnell and told him that he was out of product. The way he saw it, he was an inch taller than Darnell and at least twenty pounds heavier, so when he flashed his badge and told Darnell that he was under arrest for drug trafficking, he could overpower him, if need be. At least, that’s what he thought. Warren pulled in front of McCord’s house and waited for him to arrive.
Fifteen minutes later, Darnell pulled into his driveway. Two black SUVs pulled up to the curb shortly after. Warren watched as Darnell’s goons got out and looked around. One of them, a thick-bodied, dark-skinned brute by the name of Turiq, walked over to Darnell’s truck and opened the door. Darnell stepped out of the Escalade, looking like new money. Fresh Tims pushed against the pavement. His True Religion jeans and Polo shirt were clean and pressed. A twenty-four-inch, platinum chain hung around his neck. Attached to it was a cross adorned with one hundred tiny diamonds. Although he was in his mid-thirties, Darnell was still young at heart. He leaned over and whispered something into Turiq’s ear.
Turiq nodded his approval, walked over to his truck, and hopped in. Less than ten seconds later, both SUVs were pulling away. After they were gone, Darnell made his way over to Warren.
“Yo, what’s good? Let’s go into the house and handle this business, my dude.”
Warren could feel the excitement as he followed Darnell into his house. This was it. He was about to make the arrest of the year. He grabbed a duffle bag from the backseat and followed Darnell into his house. The two men went into Darnell’s basement.