by Noire
For the last ten minutes Jock had been digging her out with his long hard shovel. Her pussy felt like a hot velvet suction cup as they squeezed each other’s asses and fucked standing up.
But all of a sudden shit changed in a hurry.
“Shhh!” the white girl hissed through her teeth as she stopped humping and gripped his shoulders tight. She pressed her finger to her lips. “Somebody’s coming!”
Jock froze in mid-stroke.
And then he heard what she had heard. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Coming toward the changing area.
He pushed against her hips and his cream-coated dick slid outta her in a big wet plop. He looked around, his eyes desperately scanning the fenced-in area for someplace he could hide.
But there was only one door. One way in and one way out.
Jock’s eyes skimmed over the top of the wooden fence. Even if the stakes weren’t shaved to a point, there was only about six inches of clearance room between the tips and the roof. Not enough space for even his long athletic body to get through. He looked down and saw it was the same thing with the gap under the bottom of the fence. Six to eight inches. He wouldn’t even be able to get his big head through that!
The footsteps were closer. Right outside the swinging door. He could hear them talking.
“You’re just going to have to buckle down and study harder this year, son.”
“I know, Dad. I will. I promise.”
Jock bent over and yanked up his swim trunks and stuffed his limp dick back inside. He stared at Lisa. She was scared shitless. Her green eyes looked panicked like fuck.
“It’s my father!” she whispered. Her bare feet sank into the soft sand as she stood on one foot and scrambled to get her other leg back through her blue bikini bottoms. She covered her pink breasts with the cups of her bikini top and Jock’s fingers fumbled as he tried to help her retie the strings on each end.
He had just gotten that bad boy tied when the door opened and Lisa’s father and two of her brothers walked in.
“Lisa!” her tanned older brother shouted. And then his eyes met Jock’s and they turned to stone. “You dirty son of a bitch!” he snarled, and barreled straight toward Jock with his thick wrestler’s arms stretched open wide.
“What the hell is going on here?” Lisa’s father shouted as he watched his ass-naked daughter hop on one foot with her bikini bottoms dangling from her left ankle.
By now both boys had jumped on Jock and knocked him flat on his narrow ass. The older one sat on his chest pounding him as the younger one tried to bury Jock’s head in the sand with his bare feet.
“Did he rape you?” the girl’s father roared as he stared at his daughter’s naked coochie and thighs and the thin stream of cum that was running down her pale legs. “Did this nigger rape you?”
“Daddy, no!” the young girl wailed as she gave up trying to get into her bottoms and sank her naked ass down in the sand and covered her crotch with her hands. “Daddy, please,” she begged as tears of shame fell from her eyes. “Nothing happened! We didn’t do anything! I swear to you, nothing happened!”
Rage washed over the older man as he eyed his little girl’s skimpy blue bottoms hanging from her ankle. Her bikini top had been tied too tight, and it was hiked up so high that one of her juicy breasts was hanging out of the bottom.
He glanced over at his furious sons as they put a hurting on the black boy whose cum had been running down his baby girl’s thigh. He was a grown man and he knew he should probably stop his boys before they killed the little nigger they were beating down in the sand. Yeah, that would have been the righteous adult thing to do, but he just didn’t have it in him as he rushed over to the scuffle pile and jumped in swinging.
Hoards of partygoers smiled and waved as Selah walked over and sat down under the pavilion next to her man. She had gone inside the house to place a quick call to Rodney Ruddman. He had made Selah promise to call him during Viceroy’s BBQ so they could play their sexy phone game, but when she got upstairs in her master suite and dialed his number, she had chickened out from shame and slammed the phone down before he could answer it.
Besides, here lately Rodney had been getting just a little bit too possessive. He’d been making noises about how she should leave Viceroy and move into his penthouse apartment with him, as if that crazy shit would ever happen.
Selah was dick-whipped but she wasn’t no fool. Getting her backside banged a few days a week was one thing, but shaking up the foundation of her family was definitely out of the question. As good as Ruddman made her feel in bed, Selah knew their little secret trysts would eventually have to come to an end. She figured if she could get with him two, maybe three more times it might satisfy her love jones enough that she could safely walk away.
She glanced at Viceroy and sighed when she saw the look on his face. Selah had understood all the medical stuff the doctors told her about Viceroy’s brain injury and how it could affect things like his emotions, his memory, and his reasoning skills, but that didn’t make his mood swings or his growing demands for sex any easier to put up with.
“I want some head when I get to Austin, baby,” he’d told her over the phone first thing that morning. “I don’t give a damn about no barbeque. I’m a man and I need my dick sucked, Selah. I need you to wet it up for me real good, you hear?”
Selah had almost gagged. Wasn’t nothing sexy about a dead snake! There was no way in hell she was sucking that man’s limp, rubbery dick! Not when she could slobber on Rodney Ruddman’s nice stiff pole whenever she wanted to.
The thought of sucking Ruddman off made her heart rate speed up. That man was like a drug, and she felt like a junkie who was dying to get clean, but just didn’t have the willpower to leave the good stuff alone.
Not that Rodney would have let her leave him anyway. As brilliant as he was, he had begun to mistake hot sex for true love, and in the heat of one of their spectacular fuck fests he had made her promise to leave Viceroy so they could be together all the time. And with that rock-hard dick pounding up inside of her so deliciously, Selah had thrown her head back, climaxed all over that wood between her legs, and agreed.
Of course she hadn’t meant it. She had no intention of leaving her husband for Ruddman. Hell, she would have said any damn thing just to keep that good feeling going in the sheets, and a man as smart as Rodney should have known that.
She took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on her face and hoped she looked like she was having a good time. As the wife of a billionaire Selah knew she had a role to play, and she was cool with that. But Viceroy had been fronting and playing himself a role all damn day too. Skinning and grinning and coming off real smooth and silky when he was around his business associates and employees, but snapping like a bastard on wheels as soon as he caught her or one of the kids alone by themselves.
Especially Barron. That boy was really catching hell from his daddy. Viceroy acted like none of the hard work Barron had done while he was laying up there in a coma was worth shit now that he was awake. Poor Bump. Selah had watched him try to stay as far away from his father as he could all day long, but with so many industry people running around expecting them to look like one big happy family, either him or Selah was stuck sitting up under Viceroy just to make the lie they had gone back to living look like the truth.
“Yo,” Viceroy leaned over and muttered in her ear as they watched the teenagers dancing and kicking up sand to the loud music that was blasting around the water’s edge. “What’s up with that button on Fallon’s shirt?”
Selah sighed as she watched her youngest daughter twerk her hips to the beat in her rainbow-swirled bikini. There was a small gay pride button pinned to Fallon’s bikini top that had caught her father’s eye.
“Well, what the hell is it? What does that shit say?”
Selah swallowed hard. “It looks like one of those tolerance buttons, Viceroy,” she finally said. “It’s no big deal. It just means people who are a little different can coun
t on Fallon to accept them and support them just the way they are.”
Viceroy snorted like, Nigga, please!
“But that’s a rainbow on her, right? That’s them gay people’s mess ain’t it?”
Selah shrugged and nodded.
“So you sitting here telling me that them lil fruity faggots with the colorful skirts can count on my daughter to support them, huh?”
Selah sucked her breath in sharply. “They’re not called faggots , Viceroy! That’s just wrong! And just so you know, Fallon is almost eighteen and she can make her own decisions about who she supports! The world isn’t as simple as it was back when we were her age. Kids are exposed to more options now. They accept more and they know more.”
Viceroy bucked. “My damn kids accept what the hell I tell ’em to accept!” He leaned toward Selah, and then with a deadly look on his face and his cold-blooded eyes plastered hard on Fallon, he leaned in even closer and hit his wife with his wrath full-blast.
“So tell me, Big Mama. What in the hell was you out there doing when our baby girl was pledging her support to some damn freaks of nature?” he snapped with his lips almost touching her ear. “Tell me what kind of mama allows her only daughter to walk around wearing a button like that and embarrassing the shit outta her entire family?”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Selah blurted and pulled away from him. “I’m not allowing Fallon to do anything!”
“Well did you tell her to take that shit off? Did you knock her on her ass when she told you she was supporting them tulip freaks?” A sneer of fury slid across Viceroy’s face as he shook his head and grilled Selah with a look of rage in his eyes.
“You know, my poor mama worked three jobs, Selah. Three fuckin’ jobs! She scrubbed floors, she scrubbed shitters, and she washed other people’s funky drawers! But never once did she fall down on the job that was the most important thing her goddamn life: raising me and Suge.”
Viceroy shook his head. “Now, if Frances Mae Dominion can scrub her damn fingers to the bone and still manage to raise two hardheaded boys to grow up and be some damn body, then the least you shoulda been able to do was raise Jock and Fallon half-assed right!”
Selah wanted to punch him in the face for low-rating her mothering skills! She wanted to smack him right upside that banged-up head of his and then drown his half-crippled ass in the lake! But with so many important people around and this fool acting so damned unpredictable, the best she could do right now was to get the hell away from him.
“You know what?” She gave Viceroy a smack-down under her breath while smiling politely at their guests the whole time. “I’m about to beg your goddamn pardon for a little while because I have something a whole lot better to do.”
He reached out and snatched her by the wrist and she quickly jerked it back and popped him on the back of his hand.
“Let me tell you one fucking thing, Viceroy,” Selah said, coming straight up out of her Brooklyn bag. “I did a damn good job of raising my kids! There’s nothing wrong with Grayson or Fallon! Both of my kids are doing just great, thank you, and that’s because of me, baby. Not you!”
Viceroy shrugged. “That’s a matter of opinion, sweetheart.” He angled his head toward their daughter. “Fallon is over there shaking her ass, and the last I seen of Jock he was walking around here so damn high he was sniffing cloud dust! I don’t know what you was laying around the house doing while I was in the hospital Selah, but you been slackin’ hard, baby. You ain’t been raising these kids right. You damn sure ain’t been doing that.”
Selah turned halfway around in her chair and stared at him. Oh, it was about to be on now. Fuck appearances. Fuck all their company. This fool had jabbed her in her mother-button and that shit hurt.
“You know what, Viceroy?” she said quietly, rising to her feet in one graceful motion as she got ready to go back in the house and make that phone call again. “How about you kiss my black ass, huh? Believe me. You’ve been slacking for a long time in some areas too”—she stared down at his crotch and then back up in his eyes—“ ’cause trust me baby, there’s a whole lot of shit that you still can’t do right!”
CHAPTER 25
“Fucking bastard!” Selah muttered under her breath as she maneuvered her way through the throng of guests and stormed toward the back entrance of the lakefront mansion.
Viceroy had more nerve than a little bit, talking that bullshit to her! The twenty-year-old flame that had been burning low in Selah’s belly sparked up into a raging fire. No matter how hard she had tried, deep down inside she had never forgiven Viceroy for the shit he’d put her through that day! All he’d had to do was keep his ass at the hotel with his family where he belonged, and they would have taken the kids out like they had planned, and her babies wouldn’t have been stuck up in that room going crazy!
And if the babies hadn’t been locked up in that little ass room, then Selah wouldn’t have had to ask the concierge to call her a taxi to take them across town to Viceroy’s office!
And if she hadn’t taken her children to Viceroy’s office, she never would have caught him with his dick in her sister’s mouth!
And if her tramp-ass baby sister hadn’t been sucking the skin off of her husband’s rock-hard bone, then Selah never would have run out of that building and dragged her babies around the streets of Manhattan with her heart all broken up in little tiny pieces.
And if she hadn’t been walking the streets of Manhattan with her heart torn up, then she never would have needed her a drink in the first damn place!
And if she hadn’t snuck and drank up almost a fifth of liquor, then she wouldn’t have had a reason to run inside that damn Duane Reade’s drugstore to buy her some mouthwash.
And if she hadn’t needed that mouthwash, she would have never left her kids waiting outside with a baby in the stroller with only a seven-year-old out there to watch them!
And if she hadn’t left her seven-year-old son outside alone watching the kids, then her baby girl Sable wouldn’t have been snatched out of her stroller in broad daylight!
And if sweet little Sable hadn’t been snatched from her stroller and kidnapped by a stranger, then the scandalous fiend who had just busted out the back door and was coming down the steps sweating and holding her crotch wouldn’t be in Texas trying to convince Selah that she was her child!
“Whassup, Mama Selah!” Dy-Nasty hollered as she bounded down the steps. “Whew! It’s hot as hell out here! I’ma run and get me a cold brew. Want me to bring you one?”
Selah shook her head. “No thank you, dear,” she said as she walked past Dy-Nasty and headed through the back door. “I’m fine, baby. But thanks.”
Selah stormed inside the house and walked down the long corridor. She had just turned the corner and headed toward the staircase when she felt the floor shaking as Pilar’s overweight fiancé, Ray, came barreling down the steps straight at her.
“Ray!” Selah yelped and pressed herself up against the wall so he wouldn’t knock her down. “Goodness!” she shrieked as she saw the bloody ribbons of shredded skin hanging from his face. “What the hell happened to you?”
“It was Pilar,” he blurted out. Tears were in his eyes and Selah saw a patchwork of blood-streaked scratches on his neck and arms too. “Your niece jumped on me and hit me in the head with a wine bottle!”
“Pilar?” Selah said in disbelief. “Why in the world would she do something like that?” He started down the steps again but Selah grabbed his arm.
“Uh-uh,” she said, nudging him gently in front of her. “You just take yourself right back up those stairs!”
She shook her head and frowned.
“You walk yourself out there in front of Viceroy and his friends all scratched up like that and he’ll have a damn fit. Uh-uh. Come on upstairs with me, baby. Let’s put some peroxide and Neosporin on those scratches and get you bandaged up.”
“She just went crazy,” Ray muttered as Selah dotted his face gently with cotto
n balls soaked in peroxide. “She attacked me. Just jumped all over me! First she said I was messing around on her, and then she went bonkers and started scratching up my face!”
Selah frowned. “You? Cheating? That’s ridiculous! There must be some sort of misunderstanding because really, that just doesn’t sound like the Pilar I know.” She dabbed at Ray’s shredded skin and squeezed the cotton balls so the peroxide would drip foam as it cleaned out a few of the deeper scratches.
“Well it was her,” Ray muttered. “Pilar’s been acting crazy for months now. Fighting with me over the littlest things, ignoring my calls and talking down to me like I’m not worth shit! I don’t get it, Ms. Selah. I’m a good catch! A good man! But no matter how much I try to do for your niece, she’s just never satisfied!”
Selah treated his wounds and listened quietly as Ray poured his heart out. She wasn’t one to get in other people’s business and after hearing Ray out, that’s exactly what she told him.
“Look, I can’t explain Pilar’s behavior and I can’t excuse it either. All I can tell you is . . .” A feeling of deep regret and longing washed over Selah and she felt her heart quiver. “Just don’t waste your damn life, Ray,” Selah said quietly. “You only live once, baby, and every single day is precious. If a relationship isn’t right for you then you’d be a damn fool to spend twenty or thirty years trying to make it right. What did the old folks use to say? If it don’t fit, don’t force it?”
Selah picked up a Q-tip and smeared Neosporin all over his face. What she was about to say was for Ray, but it was also for herself too.
“You have to live your life, Ray. And Pilar has to live hers. The last thing you want to do is wake up thirty years from now and realize you’ve wasted your whole life on the wrong damn person.”