“Hurricane” by Eric Benét ended, and faded in to Earth Wind and Fire’s “Would You Mind.” Meeah had removed her panties, and he had removed his thong. He got down on his knees and kissed over her belly as did the raining shower. She ran her hands over his head, as if it was his dick head, stroking the moisture. His mind was orgasmic from her touch.
He cupped her ass and pulled the roundness of her belly to his lips, and he licked her navel. He let his tongue catch the raining shower at the point of her navel and swallowed. He loved the roundness of her belly. He told her often in the past, “Your belly is perfect; you may not have birthed both our children, but nevertheless your belly brought beauty in to this world, so I adore the sight of it. Each time he told her this, tears rolled down her cheeks. Still down on his knees, Tylowe’s tongue danced up and down her leg. She looked down to see the water misting off his back and funneling down the crease of his ass. He got down on all fours, and his head parted her thighs. He placed his nose on her pussy lip and sniffed her scent. His dick thickened as it hung down. Looking up in to her face, the shower blurred his vision. He tapped her on her ass, and she knew to sit down.
On his knees like a dog, he moved back between her thighs. The shower was full of steam; heat surrounded them, and it was coming from them.
Meeah spread her legs, placing her feet up on the platform she sat on. The water felt like walking in warm rain, naked, along a warm beach at night. The bathroom lights had dimmed when they stayed in one place. The only lights were in the floor of the shower, illuminating their bodies in reds, greens, and white. With her legs apart, Tylowe licked her pussy in long, slow-dragging laps and took in her sweet wetness. She was slippery and sweet; it had him eating her like tomorrow wouldn’t come so he had to take all she had now. He licked her up and down, near and far. His tongue started in between her two openings. She was ready for his tongue to slide in her ass, but he opened his mouth wide covering her whole pussy. The showerhead sprayed shots of hot water right onto her clit, and over his nose. She groaned each time the spray hit her clit. She angled her body to increase the direct contact. Meeah almost squirted herself as she was losing control. She grabbed her breasts hard, as if she was trying to save them. She squeezed her nipples as sounds wheezed from deep within her lungs. Her feet stirred, and toes curled. She slapped the back of his head almost too hard. Her body was out of control as she fought back from cumming. He curled his tongue, and she placed her hands behind his head and helped his tongue to make deep thrusts, inside and out. She kept pushing his head into her pussy. As she called his name aloud, he honed in on her clit. She’d felt the shower raining down hot water a moment before on her clit; now his tongue was bathing her, circling while varying the pressure.
Unconsciously, she slapped his back again. He slipped two fingers inside her pulsating pussy, and massaged the inner, upper ridge inside her. His tongue flicked on her clit, and he never missed a beat. He stayed at it knowing it was just a matter of time before her body would go in to an upheaval of motions. She would be loud, so damn loud, and it started. Tylowe fought to keep his tongue in place, and she damn near pushed him away. Meeah screamed, and he fought to keep licking her. Finally, she was able to persuade him to pull away with a smile on his face.
He knew she had not had an orgasm like that in a long while. He wondered if he had not been spiritually loving her as she deserved as his woman. Maybe he had been having sex with her all too often, and not making love to her. Both had fallen in to the idea that sex was good and plentiful, and sometimes that’s all you had. But making love—it had to happen more often.
He joined her as she lay on the sitting area. It was enough room to allow them to lie next to each other and spoon while feeling the warm rain. The eight showerheads had changed five times, once every five minutes. The steam and hot water misted over their bodies; it felt like a water blanket of warmth.
Years ago, they used to make the annual hike down behind the Snoqualmie Falls. The 268-foot-high waterfall in the Cascade Mountains was forty minutes from Seattle, and then a half-mile hike. Meeah and Tylowe had been able to pull off having quickie sex behind the hard, cold mist of the falls. It was dangerous, romantic, exciting, and cold. Now, behind the eight-foot-long glass shower windows and door, love rained down. The mist was hot and pulsating softly on their bodies.
Meeah sat up and then eased her body to a standing position. Tylowe sat up and looked up at her. Movement in the huge shower triggered the lights to brighten a bit. As he looked up at his wife, he saw himself; she was him, and he was her. Maybe their growth as one had slowed, but they wanted more love to keep growing to wherever it could go, as long as it went—far, wide, and high.
Meeah leaned down and kissed his forehead, then his nose, and then rushed her tongue into his mouth. She kissed him hard and wet as the hot shower poured over their faces. The spray pattern changed to quick bursts of spray, almost too hard, from all of the showerheads.
Their mouths opened wide and their tongues intertwined, seemingly trying to take each other’s last breath.
Her hand reached down and cupped his balls as he spread his legs. She loved feeling his balls stirring in her hand and his shaft thicken and harden. She leaned down and put her lips over the underside of his dick, then licked and sucked on the thick vein. Her mouth went up and down, sucking hard on the shaft of his dick. He grunted as he pulled her head tighter to him. She kept sucking the shaft as she moved one hand up to his wide, flawlessly shaped mushroom dick head. Meeah squeezed and stroked his dick head as if she was trying to make it squirt to the ceiling. She relaxed her grip.
“I want you inside me.”
She anticipated the feel of his dick, knowing it plunged deep, and how the wide ridge of the head stroked her G-spot going in and coming out. He leaned back, and she closed his legs a bit and straddled him.
With her hands on his shoulder for support, she rotated her hips, making her pussy lips kiss his hardness. Hot water poured off her breasts and onto his face, and he drank the water for her to see. She centered her opening, and slowly pushed down on his dick, grunting loudly as he glided in an inch. She stopped her descending human waterfall and held still. Her mouth opened wide, and her eyes rolled up for a moment, but then she stared down in to his eyes. Tylowe rushed his tongue into her mouth, and kissed hard as if he wanted his tongue to go down her throat. She felt it through her thick pussy lips. Her wetness, like slippery virgin olive oil, increased and impelled her to receive his hardness and width with ease. She wrapped her arms around his head, almost smothering him. He heard and felt her high-pitched release of air as she eased down on his longing hardness. She rested her ass on his thighs to adjust.
With her arms around his head, she pulled him to her breasts. Meeah spoke loud and clear, “I love you, Tylowe. There is nothing I want more than to be with you. You treat me like a queen, but if you ever wanted me to be your slave, I wouldn’t hesitate for one moment. I know you would still treat me like a queen.”
Tylowe squeezed her body with his strong arm as the shower-head changed pattern to a sweltering rainforest mist. As Meeah lifted her head and leaned back, Tylowe could not tell if tears were rolling down her face or if the shower was fooling his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. He tasted salty tears.
He looked up in to her wet eyes, and said, “I have many things to tell you, and none of what I have to say is about us being apart. But, there is a lot going on. Maybe because we haven’t had troubles like so many others, we lost our way, but you know trouble brought us together. Maybe some struggle will remind us of what we mean to each other.”
Her tongue slid in his ear and she said, “Could we talk in the morning? Right now, I want to ride this hardness, and feel you get off inside me. I want your dick to go to war inside and make me give you my last breath. Then, my dear, I want to sleep in your arms like I haven’t in a long time.”
He didn’t have to answer as her hips started going up and down on his dick. She rode him
in a funky-sexy-rhythm, prompted by the band Incognito with Maysa Leak singing “Beneath the Surface.” The song’s intensity picked up as did Meeah, while riding her husband’s hardness. The showerheads changed pattern again to short, powerful squirts. Tylowe made Meeah stand up, and turn around. She braced herself against the shower wall. With his hands holding her hips firmly, he looked down on her spread, round ass; he was rubbing his dick on the crease of her ass, watching his dick head pop through. When he stopped, a clear stream of pre-cum was attached, like a string connecting his head to her ass in the mist of the steam beading on her ass.
Tylowe moved her over to a specific spot. He reached over and hit a button, and eight more showerheads started spraying up from the floor and sides. He angled his dick, and she felt a driving force shocking her. When Tylowe pulled out of her pussy and off her ass, just a little with each hump, several shower heads jetted long streams of hot water up and under the shaft of his dick, and on her asshole and her clit. He humped harder, trying to cum inside her. Both of them were loud, swallowing panting breaths.
He leaned his chest on her back and wrapped his arms around her stomach. He arched his feet up to his toes and humped like a wild dog, yet it was not long, deep penetration. The head of Tylowe’s dick was just past her opening, rubbing on her G-spot. Meeah humped back with short, rapid thrusts. She was working on a mini orgasm when finally Tylowe held still. He let out one long grunt as his cum shot hard into Meeah. She felt a vigorous force of warm fluid inside her. The hard gush felt as if it could have shot across the room. His body followed with short, erratic, animalistic lunges.
He rested on her back; his thighs were camping a bit. She held him up as she felt his hot shot inside her flooding around his dick, and oozing out as he lost his firmness.
As the showerheads changed their spray pattern again, they finally showered.
CHAPTER 26
Revelations, Terminations and Culminations
Come morning, the rain was washing the windows with a deluge as Tylowe and Meeah sat up in bed. Gold-toned, heavy-thread-count sheets covered their legs. Her breasts and his chest were bared to the world—they were comfortable and at home. The mirrored ceiling over their bed reflected the two leaning on each other. The rain made the lake look blurry, and the cloudy sky seemed to be at eye level as the wind blew. A powerful wind caused whistling sounds that died down and returned in sweeping bursts. The early morning gray sky went grayer in their eyes, as if smudged with a paint brush. The night before, a beautiful sunset had met them in the living room, and had set in motion the love they had made in the shower as the last of its light disappeared.
Many events in their life had set the stage for a conversation long overdue. It was time. With so much on his mind, he hoped all he had to say to his wife would not turn into a storm all by itself.
When…just when, do you tell the person closest to you difficult things?
Missing pieces of knowledge call out for understanding, if you don’t know who knows what and when. He had information to share. He had questions of his wife that included their past. Tylowe told his wife about Elliot reaching out from prison, and how he and Psalms had visited him. He recounted the part about slugging Elliot finally, as he had wanted to many years ago. Elliot had hurt Meeah, and his own daughter, treating them badly with his perverted lifestyle and criminal activities.
• • •
In a previous life, Elliot and Meeah married because her father pressured her, for reasons she wished he would burn down in hell. In her life with Elliot, he treated her like a marble. He rolled her in and out of games, all for his own personal gain. The man drained her soul, and twisted her family. He mixed with the Russian mob, leading a criminal enterprise.
The stress of feeling trapped caused her to lose her emotional balance and disconnect her from reality for a short time. The mental breakdown allowed Elliot to take Meeah’s daughter away.
Meeah regained her balance, but then she was forced to live apart from her daughter. Elliot manipulated Meeah’s agony. Forced to remain married to him for the right to have some interaction with her daughter, she did what any mother would do. She bowed down to his ugliness and evil deeds to be in her daughter’s life.
How did it all go bad? Elliot conned her father, an influential Caribbean artist with a sizable fortune from his art galleries and an enormous art school in Vancouver, B.C. In a well-planned blitz, Elliot gained full control of all his holdings after Meeah married Elliot and her father died.
Prior to Elliot ripping her life apart, Meeah was a model working runways all throughout the Caribbean, Canada, and Europe. She had art skills, too; she’d inherited her mom’s and dad’s artistic abilities, and Meeah’s talent was receiving recognition.
Meeah loved her father to no end, but he was a playboy, with art groupies sucking his human ink. Her parents worked together as a team, but not as a loving couple. Her mom loved her dad, but Dad painted many women down on vertical canvases with brush strokes of sex.
After her father passed away, Meeah met her father’s other women and her other grown half-brothers and half-sisters. They emerged from all over the Caribbean, contacting her or Meeah’s mom. Some came with a hand out; others just let their truth come forward.
Meeah and Elliot had a baby together, Mia. Thinking Elliot would be different from her father, Meeah eventually opened her eyes. Elliot also had other children around the world. As Elliot became increasingly verbally sadistic, she was determined not to be a fool like her mother.
Her saying no to Elliot’s behavior and trying to walk away with their daughter became a nightmare. Tylowe just so happened to have walked in to her life, and woke her up the moment they met.
Before Meeah made the break from Elliot, he planted one of the ugliest seeds a man could plant in a woman’s mind and between her legs. He told her he had other women because she was a bore in bed, and he’d rather make love to a dead virgin.
When Meeah met Tylowe, and she thought that he wanted to make love to her, she told him she might not be able to satisfy him. Meeah was strong, but damaged, when Tylowe met her. Tylowe, the man he was, took the time needed to listen to her. He understood for his own sake that she was the woman who could heal him. He had been living with his own version of a fractured spirit. Tylowe stepped up and took on the challenge of loving Meeah. In doing so, he found loving her and accepting her love was easy. Tylowe found her love for him to be perfect.
The challenge was the fact that Elliot and Tylowe used to be best friends. When he met Meeah for the first time, Tylowe did not know that Elliot was her husband. It was a distressing case of déjà vu, but the tables were turned.
Tylowe and Elliot had a nasty history, like having a mouth full of vinegar and not being able to spit it out. Elliot had been one of the major factors that caused Tylowe’s breakup with his fiancée over twenty years earlier. Because of that breakup, Tylowe didn’t know that he had a daughter for ten years. Elliot only agreed to give up certain information to reduce his prison sentence.
Tylowe and Meeah married after all the dust settled. They raised their two girls together. Tyreene Pearlene, was Tylowe’s daughter by his ex-fiancée. The ex-fiancée had passed away before he found out about his daughter. Other people were raising her, but they had hoped one day Tylowe would find out and come for her.
The girls were grown now, living healthy, productive lives, leaving Tylowe and Meeah alone with each other, but maybe missing the responsibilities that helped to bring them together.
• • •
As Tylowe told Meeah of Elliot’s other children, she cried. Hearing his name more than in passing made her sick. Hurt and angry, she understood it fit the life of a man who had once made her life hell. She had heard there could be other kids, but she never connected with them or knew where they were. She had assumed most of the kids he’d fathered had no knowledge of who he was.
Tylowe had much to tell her, and even told of his meeting an ex-girlfriend. She got up out
of the bed, and got his belt. She playfully threatened him, and told him he’d better not give her good thing to an oldie-and-no-goodie-anymore hoochie mama.
“Well, babe, if I’m willing to tell you, I am more assured than you. There is no woman I know whom I could tell. I feel proud of you, myself, and our relationship that I can come home, and not have to carry any guilt. It’s foolish for either one of us to act as if other people aren’t attracted to us.”
Meeah kissed his forehead. “Oh, babe, I see women still looking at you. In a strange way, I get turned on when I know I have you, and another woman is checking you out.” Meeah leaned against him again and squeezed his hand.
He told her about finding the kids and the trouble they encountered, though he didn’t give her the details of all Suzy Q’s deeds. Meeah knew better than to ask.
“Honey…Tylowe, let me get us some coffee. I always pray in front of you, all the time, with no problem, we both do, but I’m going in the kitchen and have a little talk with God. You could have been hurt. Maybe even worse could have happened while you were in Vegas messing around with dangerous people. This stuff bothers me! I’m disturbed. I thank God for delivering you back to me, but dammit, Tylowe.” Her face was tight, and her brown skin lost the battle to crimson tones. His eyes opened wide, turned to circles, and lit up like new silver dollars.
“Honey . . .” She took a deep breath. “You are the man who excites me and you’ve stepped up and been the man I needed. There is no doubt you can take care of yourself.” She took an even deeper breath, and then took a long pause before she continued. “I’m trying to be careful how I say what’s on my mind. I’m saying this because in no way do I want to belittle you. You know that’s not me. I never talk crazy to you. I learned a long time ago to trust you, and let you lead because I have faith in you as my man. So forgive me if what I say comes out wrong, but I will mean what I say. You are not Psalms Black. You are a hell of a man to me, but Psalms Black is some kind of warrior that you are not. I don’t want you to be anything like him. I’m not putting him down. He is your friend; I respect him, and I respect your friendship with him. I do like him. He has been your friend since you two were in grade school, yet there is a dark side of Psalms that I fear. I fear you will try to emulate what he is capable of if pushed to the wrong corner. I’m not scared that he will put you into something bad, but I wonder will you, in an effort to prove yourself, do something that you…are…not…made…for!
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