Project Queen II

by Teresa D. Patterson

  She remembered the first time she had sex. It wasn’t her choice. Her mother was in a back bedroom tricking for a heroin fix. She was eight years old and didn’t like the place Lorain had brought her to. There were a lot of dirty people sitting around. Some were smoking out of funny looking pipes. Others had rags or rubber bands wrapped around their arms, sticking needles in them. They looked strange, with glossy eyes or far-away gazes. It gave her a creepy feeling and made her scared. She just wanted to leave.

  One man in particular kept staring at her, licking his lips. He was skinny, with sharp features. His thinness was even more pronounced because of his drug abuse.

  “Hey pretty girl. Want some candy?” He smiled at her, showing yellow, stained teeth. Some of the upper row was missing.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She and her mother lived on the streets. They went from place to place, sometimes sleeping behind buildings in alleys. Her stomach grumbled at the mention of food.

  “You want some candy?” the man repeated, holding out a Snickers in his bony hand. Her eyes widened at the treat and she nodded enthusiastically. “You can have it, but you have to come with me.” He leered at her as he gave her the Snickers. She quickly tore the wrapper off the candy and chomped it down. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious to her deprived taste buds. “You ate my candy, now you have to come with me,” the man reminded. He reached for her hand and tugged her along. None of the other adults in the room moved from their positions or said anything as they watched him pulled the little girl from the room.

  Della was led to a filthy bathroom. There were needles everywhere and all kinds of pipes. The garbage can overflowed with bloody rags, hypodermics and tissue.

  “I got another piece of candy for you,” the crack head said, unzipping his pants. Drool slipped past his chapped lips. When he pulled out his penis Della’s eyes widened in fear. She tried to run, but he grabbed her with his ashy arms. Even though he was thin, she was no match for him. He overpowered her and snatched her shorts down. He bent her over the tub, held his callous hands over her mouth to stifle her screams, and violated her in the worse way.

  Her ripped panties were around her ankles, when Lorain found her. Blood dried on her inner thighs as tears streamed down her face. Her mother had been too high to do anything. She tried to clean Della up, but the sink didn’t work. There wasn’t even any toilet paper on the holder. She took some napkins from her purse and stuffed them between Della’s legs to stop the bleeding. She pulled up her daughter’s torn panties and refastened her jeans shorts.

  “Mama, it stings,” Della whined. “It stings so bad.” “Hush, child. I guess you know what it means to be a woman now,” she told her. “Get used to it. Men are always going to use and abuse you. Get used to it.”

  Her innocence had been shattered in a cruel act, and her mother had been too high to even give a shit.

  “Get used to it,” Della snarled aloud, shaking the horrible memory from her head. “I don’t have to get used to a motherfucking thing.” When she was eight, she didn’t have a choice, but now she did. She didn’t have to allow a man to fuck her against her will. Being drugged and gang-banged was certainly against her will.

  Her head pounded so furiously that she wanted to snatch it from her shoulders and toss it against a wall. Neither hell nor high water would keep her from doing what she had to do. The men responsible for videotaping her better pray that she’d found religion before their paths ever crossed again. Only God would be able to save them from her wrath.

  Chapter Seven

  Larry came home late, as usual. Shae wanted to hit him over the head with a cast iron skillet, but she remained calm. His arriving home later and later had become a pattern. She wondered what his excuse would be this time.

  “What’s up, baby?” he greeted.

  “Nothing. I cooked dinner. Too bad you had to wait until it got cold before you came home,” she complained.

  “I’m sorry. I just had a project that I needed to finish,” he said.

  “Since when does painting take all night?”

  “Shae, you know being an artist entails more than just painting. Now that I’m the owner of an art gallery, there’s a lot of paperwork involved. I’m marketing more than just art. There are deals and negotiations to make. It takes a lot of hard work. To stay on top of the game, I have to put in long hours.”

  Who did he think he was kidding? He was staying on top of more than the game, but she kept her opinion to herself. It would only cause another argument. Besides, she couldn’t accuse him without having proof.

  “If you’re hungry, you can heat up your food in the microwave. I’m going to bed,” she snapped, stomping upstairs.

  Larry shrugged and took a seat on the leather couch. He wasn’t hungry anyway. He’d had more than enough to eat at the art gallery. Danielle went to the Olive Garden and brought back carry out. They ate shrimp scampi and lobster tail, topping it off with a bottle of Dom Perignon. He was glad Shae hadn’t caught a whiff of his breath, or she really would have gone off.

  He smiled remembering the relaxing massage Danielle gave him. It ended with his dick in her mouth and her sucking him dry. She sure could deep-throat a dick because she had no gag reflex. That shit was priceless.

  He compared getting a blow job from his wife. Shae barely put her mouth on him down there. Lately, he received no head action from her whatsoever. She always displayed a nasty attitude, too. Like now.

  Sure, he was late and he was lying about the reason, but she didn’t know that. He really did have to put in long hours to stay in competition with other galleries in the area. Shae had no understanding. She wanted him to be at home before the streetlights came on. He wasn’t a fifteen year old with a curfew and didn’t appreciate being treated like one.

  The differences between Danielle and Shae were monumental. Danielle had a bubbly, perky personality, often breezing into the office smiling and bouncing. Her voice was calm and refreshing, like a soothing song.

  On the other hand, Shae wore a scowl on her face most of the time. When she spoke to him, her voice held an annoyed edge. She never bounced and she rarely smiled.

  He knew it was wrong to compare the two women. Shae was his wife and he loved her. There was just so much missing in their marriage. He truly wanted things to work out, but he didn’t know how to bring about a change. If things didn’t turn around soon, his marriage was going to fail. He couldn’t continue to juggle two women, especially not when one of the women was Shae. If his wife ever found out what he was really doing at the office, she would snap.

  He couldn’t help himself though. A man had his pride. Sometimes Shae just made him feel so low with her cutting words and cruel accusations. It pissed him off when she accused him of fucking her sister. He hadn’t even considered doing such a thing. He never thought about cheating on her or doing anything that would lead up to cheating since they’d gotten married.

  Danielle entered his life and things changed. She treated him the way he deserved to be treated. It made him realize what was missing from his lack luster marriage.

  At first, he tried to ward off her overtures. Gradually, she broke him down. As Shae got crueler, Danielle became more appealing with her kindness.

  Finally, he crossed that line and went there. Once he opened the door, there seemed to be no turning back. Now, things were out of hand, spiraling out of control. Danielle wanted more and he wanted to be happy. He knew he had to make a decision soon.

  If he had a problem, he didn’t feel like he could go to his wife to discuss it. He should be able to tell her anything. His wife was supposed to be his backbone.

  He often felt disrespected and used. He felt like he was a welcome mat and an ATM machine to Shae. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t stand it. He was about to ask God to take back that rib he’d used to make the woman.

  Just thinking about the rift between him and his wife had him pulling out a blanket from the hall closet a
nd heading for the couch. He didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed with her.

  * * *

  The next day was pretty much a repeat of the previous one. Larry came home, barely acknowledged Shae, picked up Imani and began playing with her.

  “How was your day?” Shae tried to engage him in conversation.

  “It was just like any other day,” he said, as he tickled his daughter.

  “Some irate customer threatened to blow the bank up. They called in the bomb squad and we had to evacuate the building.”

  “That’s nice,” he said, absently.

  Obviously, he’s not listening to a damn word that’s coming out of my mouth, she thought. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  Shae watched him as he continued to roll around on the floor with Imani. She wanted to be happy that her husband was there, but something felt off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  She made an effort to bridge the gap between them once again. “I fixed your favorite dinner- lasagna.” She hoped that would get a more enthusiastic response from him.

  Larry sighed. “I’m sorry, babe. You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.” He glanced at her guiltily, but immediately looked away. “I already ate.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” she asked sarcastically. She was so angry that she had a mind to toss the entire pan of hot lasagna on that fool. But, instead, she removed herself from his presence before the temptation overtook her. She busied herself with sorting the laundry until she calmed down.

  * * *

  Later that night, Shae lay in bed tossing and turning. Larry chose to sleep on the couch, and she wondered why. He said there wasn’t another woman, but she knew in her heart he wasn’t being truthful. Another woman had to be involved. He worked late every weekday and would sometimes go in on the weekends, too.

  When he was home, he spent his free time playing with Imani. She felt ignored, almost invisible. What the hell did he marry her for if he didn’t need her for anything? He used to turn to her in the middle of the night and they’d bump and grind until the wee hours of the morning. Not anymore. She practically had to beg him for sex. He was either too tired or couldn’t get his dick hard. Now, he was sleeping on the couch. What was up with that? Some bitch was fucking her man and she would get to the bottom of it.

  Meanwhile, since her husband wasn’t fucking her, she had to find ways to pleasure herself. She wasn’t interested in cheating on Larry, and didn’t want to share her body with anyone else.

  She retrieved the vibrator that she kept hidden in her panty drawer. She thought she’d no longer need sex toys since she was married. However; she was glad she hadn’t thrown her buddy away.

  Even though it was worn, it still worked magnificently. She recently replaced the batteries so it was good to go. One positive thing about a vibrator was that it stayed hard and it always did the job.

  She got up and turned on soft music. Might as well set the mood for what was about to come. She stripped off her nightgown and admired herself in the mirror. Not bad after having given birth. Her golden skin shone. Her ass jutted out. It was big and juicy, like Kim Kardashian’s. She possessed a small waist and wide hips. She had nice, round, firm breasts. She was a knockout and Larry better recognize. If she wanted to get another man, she’d have no problem doing so.

  Looking at herself turned her on. She reached up and pinched her aching nipples firmly, twisting them just a bit. It hurt, but felt so good. One hand moved from her breast to her pussy. She quickly rubbed her clit and slid her finger along the slit. She could feel already the moistness. She plunged her middle finger inside, lubricating herself more. She watched her fingers at work in the mirror, as she got hotter and wetter. When she loosened up more, she slid two fingers inside, to the knuckles. She was so horny. She felt her pussy throbbing and knew that her fingers weren’t enough.

  She grabbed the vibrator and lay down on the bed. She turned it on low and pressed it against her clit. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her free hand played with her breasts. She cupped and squeezed them, twisted and tugged at her nipples. She couldn’t take the pressure for long. She wanted to cum-needed to release it.

  She positioned the vibrator at the entrance of her pussy and pushed it inside. She immediately had a small orgasm as it went deeper and deeper. When she could push it in no further she pulled it out, and once again put the tip of it against her clit. She moved it from side to side. It felt so good.

  She needed more. She twisted the control on the vibrator to high, and plunged it back into her soaking pussy. She worked it in and out, occasionally pressing it firmly against her clit while her other hand worked her nipples. Soon she had an orgasm so intense that she cried out her husband’s name.

  The next morning as soon as Larry left for work, she Google searched private investigators, finding an office located downtown. Anxiously, she dialed the number. She wanted someone to follow Larry and find out what he was up to. She set up an appointment for later that afternoon. She’d have her answers soon enough.

  She met the guy on her lunch break. He was a middleaged white man, who resembled an underwear model. His piercing blue eyes stared at her as she sat across from him.

  “Are you sure you want to know the truth?” he asked.

  “Of course I do, that’s why I’m here,” she said.

  “Sometimes, it’s best not to know,” he told her.

  “Look, do you want my money or not?” she asked impatiently. “I suspect that my husband is cheating. I asked him if he was and he told me no. I don’t believe him. So, that’s why I’m hiring you.”

  “Okay. I just thought I’d warn you beforehand. Finding out these types of things can be very painful.”

  “What’s painful is not knowing and being lied to,” Shae said stiffly. “I’d rather know. I’ll deal with the aftermath.”

  “Okay.” She took the check she’d written out and slid it across the smooth surface of his desk. He picked it up. “I’ll begin tailing him right away. As soon as I know something, you’ll know,” he told her, tucking the check away in the top desk drawer.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” he said. She stood up to leave and he gave her an admiring glance.

  “He must be a damned fool,” he said under his breath as he watched her walk away.

  * * *

  Back at work, Shae thought about what she’d do if she learned that Larry had been unfaithful. They’d been married for less than three years. The first year had been an emotional rollercoaster because of her pregnancy. Larry stood by her through all of the morning sickness, mood swings, and strange cravings. He doted on her, telling her how beautiful she was. He took her to all of her doctor’s appointments. He bought her flowers and other gifts to lift her spirits. At night, he rubbed her back and massaged her feet. He was an amazing husband.

  Together, they made it through the nine months. He’d been holding the digital camera when she delivered a beautiful, healthy, eight-pound eight-ounce little girl.

  The second year, Shae focused the majority of her attention on being a good mother to Imani. She hadn’t wanted to be anything like her own mother. She went so far as to take parenting classes and insisted that Larry join her. He did so with no objections.

  Once she returned to work, she threw herself into her job. Since her promotion to branch supervisor at the bank, she’d been busy working longer hours. Somewhere, along the way, she neglected her husband’s needs.

  When Della came to live with them, things went from bad to worst. Not only was she not sleeping with Larry, she bickered with him about every little thing.

  Not to mention the accusations. She accused Larry of sleeping with Della. She could admit that the last couple of months had been strained. She had to own up to her part in the deterioration of their marriage. However, it didn’t justify cheating. If Larry wanted out, he should have been a man about it and talked to her. Lying, sneaking around, and cheating were things that
could get him and his bitch cut. When she found out who the bitch was, it would be on and popping. She didn’t take too kindly to sharing her husband. It angered her that some trick was doing her husband while she resorted to pleasuring herself with a vibrator. She’d show the bitch that the dick was just borrowed, and she would get it back by any means necessary.

  Chapter Eight

  Della called Paul to see what he was up to. She was tired of sitting around the house doing nothing. She’d grown bored with watching Days of Our Lives and Judge Mathis reruns. She wanted to go clubbing and thought about hitting Kizmet for Karaoke night. The amount of people who thought they could make the next American Idol amazed her. It was pure entertainment.

  “Hey, Dangerous, what’s up?” she greeted when he answered.

  “Who is this?” Paul asked stupidly. Della hated when people answered their phones like that. It sounded really ignorant.

  “This is Della. You forgot who I am already? Damn, it’s only been a few weeks,” she teased.

  “Oh, Della. My bad. What’s up?”

  “Nothing much. I want to get out and do something. I was thinking about Kizmet, downtown. You want to go?”

  “Er-” he hesitated. “I don’t know, Della.” “What’s up, Paul? Why you tripping? If you don’t want to kick it with me, just say so. You won’t hurt my feelings,” she snapped.

  “Della, I’m not trying to be funny or nothing. But, I saw you on that tape that’s circulating around. It got you looking real bad. What the fuck went down when I left that night?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m trying to find out. I think Lester put something in my drink. Believe me, I was not a willing participant in that video.”