Lipstick Diaries

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Lipstick Diaries Page 4

by Anthony Whyte


  Simone watched Chris as he walked up the patio steps and pressed the button that opened and closed the sliding glass door. She closed her eyes to take a catnap as he turned on the stereo inside the house. Her favorite slow jam began playing again. She tried to ignore it, but it got louder. Simone leaned forward, covering her ears from the sound of piano keys and saxophone cutting through the peaceful afternoon air. It was still too loud. She fought to keep the memories of Todd from creeping back up on her. It was no use. She could no longer just sit there.

  Why does Chris have that music turned up so loud? she thought pressing the button to open the patio door. What’s up with him all of a sudden?

  Simone walked to the stereo in the living room and searched for the off switch.

  “I can never find a damn thing on this contraption,” she muttered under her breath with her hands on her hips.

  Simone found the control panel a few seconds later and lowered the music after changing the station. Satisfied with Mary J. Blige, she turned to walk back outside, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Chris loud and clear in the kitchen, still on the phone.

  “I could’ve stayed fucking that other bitch, but you know, she wasn’t marriage material. Simone will help me get to that next level, even though she is a dry fuck most of the time,” Chris said with a chuckle.

  Simone stood frozen. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. That couldn’t have been Chris. That was just someone impersonating him. Yeah, that was it. She took a step toward the sliding glass door when she heard him again.

  “Yeah, I’m only marrying her ass for appearances. It looks good for a brotha to have a sista like her on his arm in the business world. I’m about to do big things, and I’ll be turning the big 4-0 in a couple of years. Having a chick like Simone definitely won’t hurt nothin’, especially when I make partner.”

  Simone almost forgot where she was, much less why she had even come into the house. She began to shake involuntarily. Chris continued. “Yeah, she was acting a little strange there a few weeks ago, but I put it on her and now she’s all in one hundred percent again. I figure I’ll marry her just in time for the company Christmas party this year. But she don’t know about that yet. That’s why I’ve been acting extra sweet lately. She won’t even entertain the thought of waiting to marry me. But to tell you the truth…humph…I’m the best thing that ever happened to that frigid bitch. She’s lucky to have me.”

  Chris ended his call and walked out of the kitchen and through the living room toward the patio. He could have sworn he closed the patio door when he came inside, but then again, maybe not. He pressed the button to close the door behind him and looked out by the pool to find Simone fast asleep. Life with her would be a cinch.

  “Hey, gorgeous, you sleep?” Chris whispered in Simone’s ear.

  Simone played it cool. With her eyes still closed, she shifted around in the lounge chair, pretending to be getting in a more comfortable position. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and saw Chris lying in the chair beside her.

  Todd motioned for the old woman to pull up closer to the pump. It was the middle of a hot afternoon and the last place he wanted to be was at work, inhaling exhaust pipe fumes all day. He gave the woman her change and picked the pump back up to service the next vehicle.

  After being laid off from the bank, Todd worked several odd jobs in addition to putting in twelve-hour shifts at the gas station. He really hated pumping gas now, especially after seeing Simone. Even if she was sick of ol’ boy pushing the Lex, he was nowhere near ready for her. She was definitely high maintenance. It hurt his pride to admit that, but he had to protect himself from any possible embarrassment. It was best that he didn’t call her.

  “Did you call brown sugar yet?” Derek asked him. Ignoring the blank look on Todd’s face, he proceeded. “Man, you crazy. That chick’s fine. And she’s feelin’ you, too? I bet if she wanted me to call her, I’d be all over that ass. Keep sleepin’,” he added before motioning to the driver of the approaching van to pull up to the pump on the other side.

  Todd understood where Derek was coming from, but knew there was nothing he could do right now. The last thing a girl like Simone wanted was a guy who pumped gas for a living. He’d almost summoned enough courage to call her once or twice, but the more he thought about his current financial situation, the more inadequate he felt.

  “You all right, babe?” Chris asked rubbing Simone’s thigh.

  “Better than ever, now that you’re here,” she said trying to sound normal. All the time she had spent feeling guilty over the past several weeks, thinking she was fooling him, only to find out he’d been scheming on her since day one.

  “Sure you don’t want me to get you anything—anything at all?” Chris asked.

  “No…well…yeah, there is something you can get.” She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she braced herself instead. She’d have a trick for his ass soon enough, but there’d be enough time for that later.

  “Okay, tell me. What is it?” Chris said. “How about some Chinese food? I have a real taste fo some shrimp fried rice. Can you go get that for me?”

  Chris was a little surprised. That was the last thing he expected to hear. Simone had seemed to enjoy being up under him over the past few weeks, and he didn’t think she’d be sending him on an errand for food when there was so much of it in the house.

  Chris hopped in his car after Simone added Utz barbecue potato chips and Swedish candy fish to her order. He’d have to go to three different stores to get everything she wanted. That was just fine with him. He wasn’t about to screw shit up at this point; there was too much at stake.

  Simone waved to Chris as he backed out of the driveway. When he was out of sight, she picked up her cell phone to call her mother. There was no doubt in her mind that she would tell her to pack her bags.

  “Well, stop being a dry fuck then,” Mrs. Taylor said nonchalantly after Simone had given her a word-for-word account of everything she had heard during Chris’ phone conversation. “And with all that running and stretching and knowing so much about your body like you do, it seems you’d be more creative. I don’t underst—”

  Click. Simone snapped her phone shut. Once again, her mother had successfully managed to make it to the very top of her shit list. She could be downright unbelievable at times.

  Simone went upstairs to the bedroom, laid across the bed and cried hysterically. In order to appear calm when Chris returned, she had to let it all out.

  She began the breathing exercises she had recently learned in a yoga class. A few minutes later, she was back in control. I’ll show him who’s a dry fuck, she thought, sashaying down the winding staircase that led back to the main floor.

  Chris returned with the food and sweets to a perfectly set kitchen table. Simone really did have an appetite now, and her mouth watered when the aroma of the freshly cooked food hit her nostrils. Chris had also bought a quart of sweet and sour chicken for himself, and they split the food and ate heartily.

  “Know what I’m thinking?” Simone asked playfully, watching Chris swallow his last bit of fried rice.

  “Oh, not now, hon. I haven’t even digested my food.”

  “I’m not talking about now!” Simone said laughing. “Hell, I’m not even talking about later on tonight.”

  Chris looked puzzled. He definitely wanted to get his hump on later, regardless.

  “What are you talking about?” he said anxiously.

  “You’re such a good lover, Chris,” Simone lied. “I want to really show you how much I appreciate you. Sometimes I feel like you deserve so much more than I’m giving you...if you know what I mean.”

  “Uh huh,” Chris said poking out his chest. Maybe he wouldn’t have to get with that new little temp at the office after all—at least not right away. His imagination was stirred, and he smiled.

  “I’d like to do something really special for you,” Simone added

  “Okay, keep goi
ng,” Chris said, his arrogance barely hidden now.

  “It’s a surprise.” Simone was beaming, and Chris couldn’t wait to find out what she had in store for him.

  “Give me a hint,” he said inquisitively.

  “I can’t, but I will tell you that you’re going to be one happy man this Friday night.”

  Simone got off early on Fridays, so everything would fall right into place. Chris was satisfied with the two-day wait. He’d rush home right after work on Friday so Simone could serve him like the king he was. It was about time she learned how to come correct and handle her business. He was sure he’d need to guide her along, though. But it was high time she proved herself worthy of the dick.

  Chris put his key in the door and swaggered into the house with high expectations. Simone had given him simple directions to follow: He’d take a shower and then lie naked on the bed on his stomach and wait for her. He’d wear the blindfold that was left under the pillow.

  Chris quickly showered and dried himself off. Looking around, there was no Simone to be found. He knew she’d appear shortly. She was hungry for him and had every reason to be.

  Music from Sade’s Love Deluxe hummed in the background. Chris smiled as he imagined himself giving it up to Simone with no mercy. Lying naked on the bed, he adjusted the blindfold. He soon felt the light touch of fingers moving gently across his back. His skin tingled. A subtle start, he thought to himself. Chris relaxed when a moist tongue began licking the back of his thighs and butt cheeks, making him squirm.

  “Oh, Simone,” he moaned.

  Chris was totally surprised at Simone’s newfound creativity. The thought that this could be a three-way was beginning to turn him on.

  Soft hands bound his wrists together while another pair applied light massage. Certain now that this was a three-way, his manhood stirred. He twisted his torso in an effort to turn over. He was pushed back onto his stomach. “Oh, feeling a little aggressive this evening, huh, girls?” Seconds later his butt cheeks were spread open. “What the fuck is up, Simone?”

  “Hold on, playa. If you don’t fight it, you won’t get hurt,” a deep, masculine voice stated.

  “Whoa! Who the fuck are you?” Chris asked beginning to struggle.

  You remember Rodney. I’m Simone’s gay first cousin. We met way back when you weren’t fuckin’ up.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Chris’ stomach was churning now.

  “Well, Simone asked me to help her settle a score. When I heard it was with you, why, I told her I’d be more than happy to oblige. The idea of you getting it like you is, well, that was mine, Chrissie baby.”

  “C’mon, you’ve got to be—”

  Chris kicked his feet wildly when he felt Rodney’s hardness up against his ass.

  “You don’t even wanna know how often I’ve secretly fantasized about having my way with your sweet ass,” Rodney whispered in Chris’ ear.

  “Yo, get the fuck off me! This some bullshit, man! I ain’t fuckin’ gay! Huh…? Ugh…ah-h-h!” Chris could no longer speak when he felt the sharp pain from the pressure on his anus. Rodney’s rock hard dick was entering him slowly but surely.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to fight it?” he said tightening the blindfold. “You’re about to make things a lot harder on yourself,” he added nonchalantly. Rodney hefted the full weight of his muscular body on Chris and licked his earlobe. Then, without further hesitation, he repeatedly rammed his cock into him until the skin around his asshole tore and bled. Chris trembled and shook.

  “Please don’t do this shit, man! I’m begging you!” he screamed in agony. There was no escape. Rodney’s six-foot-five-inch, two hundred and forty-pound frame proved to be too much to handle.

  “Oh, y-e-e-e-a-a-h! Christmas done came early; I done caught me a virgin!” Rodney sang, his nine-inch cock now fully inside Chris’ anal cavity. He thrust and thrust until Chris had used up all of his energy and could no longer fight.

  “Now, see…doesn’t that feel better? Big daddy ain’t gon’ hurt you.” Rodney’s strokes were gentle now. He was in his glory, almost forgetting that he had taken Chris against his will, until he quickly glanced at his tightly bound wrists.

  “Hmm…ah…?” Chris moaned. He was limp, defeated, his manhood snatched from him. He gathered his thoughts as Rodney continued to stroke him. The conclusion was overwhelming: Simone had set him up lovely.

  Rodney put an unloaded gun to the back of Chris’ head. “I could kill your bitch ass for fucking wit’ my fam! Do you realize that?” he growled.

  “Yes, yes!” Chris cried out.

  “But damn, because you’re a good lay, I’ma let you live!”

  Rodney pounded into Chris with more vigor now, smacking his ass cheeks as a camera flash went off from the side of the bed. Women can be so helpful, he thought.

  After taking care of business, Rodney pulled off in his car from where he had parked it around the corner.

  Simone’s cell phone rang. Seeing Rodney’s name on the caller ID, she picked it up.

  “Hey, what’s up? Okay, so what did you do? All right…” Simone was a little disappointed. Rodney wasn’t giving her the complete lowdown, and she truly wanted to know what the deal was. She probed again. “Rodney, what did you d—?”

  Rodney had already snapped his phone shut. Simone knew her cousin was raw when it came to revenge. Hell, that’s why she had called him in the first place, but she would never know how raw he really was.

  Sunday quickly came around again, and Simone already completed her first lap around the track. It had been a month since she had moved all of her things out of the house after getting off from work early that Friday. She hadn’t heard from Chris since, and she was now staying with Davina temporarily. She had expected Chris to at least call and cuss her out, but when she hadn’t heard a peep out of him she decided to accept the shitty way things had ended between them as closure.

  Simone was sure now that whatever Rodney had done, he did it to the fullest. She didn’t believe the cockamamie story he had finally told her one bit. She placed the sole of her sneaker on the edge of the bench and stretched.

  A tall, handsome figure approached from across the track. It can’t be, she thought. Davina had acted funny the other day when Simone told her she didn’t care if she never saw him again. She must’ve told him where to find her.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Todd said standing before her. Simone was speechless, but the look in his eyes said it all: He had come to settle their unfinished business.

  sweet 306

  Tri Smith

  A short story from

  “The Bristol Ho-tel. Wicked…Twisted…Sex.”

  ©2005 Tri Smith / trismithbooks.com

  Audruana sat naked on the lid of the toilet with her elbows on her thighs. Her dangling hands held two tiny triangles of transparent pink fabric, just scraps.

  Sweet had handed them to her after hastily rummaging through a cardboard box filled with flimsies sitting outside the bathroom door. Edged in skimpy pink marabou feathers, satin strings connected the two wee pieces that made the top. The bottom was the merest thong with a front patch that couldn’t fully cover a crotch, anybody’s.

  She was supposed to put them on and dance. Audition, in the bedroom right outside the closed bathroom door, from music off the radio. In front of Sweet 306 was the extravagant hustler she’d met a few hours earlier at the bar on Broadway and 51st, The Mozambique. Her silver vinyl cat suit was in a heap atop strapped, rhinestone stilettos on top of that was her silver thong.

  Sweet 306 told her he was an adult entertainment producer and booking agent when he’d introduced himself at the bar. Conversation revealed that Audruana liked to dance. After lavish compliments on her pretty face and sexy figure, she’d been persuaded to leave with him in a cab, then to stop at his place and show him a few of her moves. He was looking for fresh talent.

  “Strictly biz,” he promised.

  “Okay,” Audruana agreed to go with him. How else could he hi
re her if he didn’t know what she could do?

  Sweet 306 informed her he was a busy man. It was unusual that he even had this time tonight. She had to come with him now, right now. Tomorrow was out of the question, he’d be leaving town.

  He had an immediate spot open for a dancer at a fabulous high-class club that he did business with on Long Island. Whoever he hired for the job had to be exceptional because this club was premium, top flight. Only the best-built, most beautiful talented girls would be considered for the hot stage, the money was long. He’d interviewed a few amazing girls already this week. He needed another Black girl.

  Sweet confessed in the back of the taxi on their very short ride to his suite that he thought he’d already made up his mind on who he’d hire. Her name was Passion. She was a rich brown African-Hawaiian, natural wonder with big tits and straight black hair down to her big, round ass. That all changed when he saw Audruana at the bar. She was shining like a star.

  Sweet 306 stayed in Suite 306. It wasn’t a suite at all, but a hotel room, built like a small box and a turn around bathroom with just a sink, narrow shower and a toilet. The room was at the Bristol Hotel, midtown, on 48th Street, between 8th and 9th Avenues.

  Through the bathroom door, she heard him let someone into the room.

  She listened and caught his greeting.

  “What’s up boss-man?”

  She heard no response.

  Why did she lie to Sweet? She told him she was a professional dancer. She had been a principal rump-shaker in a few videos, choreographed a few more and worked in a couple of bars swinging on poles.

  She was counting on how she looked. Audruana Hillton stood up and tied the halter strings around her neck. She reached around her back to make a bow with two more. The top was so small, it swelled her breast out the sides and they kissed like lovers in the center. She stepped into the thong and the back string disappeared deep into her crotch. Unsuccessfully, she tried pushing underneath the tiny front sheerness and all the soft brown hair that escaped. Audruana looked down pulling at a few of the insouciant strands curling at the tops of her thighs; she was so damn bushy.

 

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