by Pynk
There was an older black couple on a nearby mattress. She wore extralong French braids. He had a head full of hair, a little more salt than pepper. They laid a few white towels under the woman’s healthy butt while her boyfriend inserted a lime green Popsicle inside of her. As he pulled it out, she sighed repeatedly. The frozen treat came out much smaller than it went in, and the green juices traced a path down the crack of her ass. He again inserted it in and out until finally, there was nothing left. Her heated cave had melted it down to liquid that coated her sweet lips, and onto the towel beneath her.
He sucked what was left on the wooden stick and then tossed it. His face found her split and he cleaned her up, licking her juices and placing pussy kisses against her skin. Within one minute, he sat up and inserted his dick inside of her to feel what was left of the cold juices that had permeated her insides.
He pressed her legs back. “Fuck. That’s so nice.”
She said as though drunk, “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” She looked to her left side. “I want him to fuck me, too,” she said as her long braids flung over her face. One of the brunet husbands stood over his wife who was sucking a long one while he masturbated. After hearing the black woman’s request, he looked over at her and stepped toward the couple. Her boyfriend pulled out and his eyes said go right ahead. The husband slipped on a Trojan and stepped up to her, inserting himself while her boyfriend went around toward her face to masturbate.
The man’s Indian-looking wife saw him getting a taste of another woman’s pussy, and she backed away from the dick she’d hardened on contact, turning around on all fours to watch her husband, while the man stuck himself in her hole. She received him deep. She was aroused. He was aroused.
She growled like she had a tiger in her tank. “Get that pussy, baby. Fuck her good.” She flung her long, dark brown hair to and fro.
Her husband looked back and said, “You know I will. You know how I do it.” His dick was white but he spoke with soul. It wouldn’t be long before he shot his load.
The black woman began a rhythmic holler as she turned to watch her boyfriend yank himself. She gripped the sheets and took the long ride to fuck-dom cum. She fucked the man like he was a G-spot dildo. Arousal engulfed her. Her boyfriend continued self-pleasing as the white dick dove into the course-haired brown muff of his woman of ten years. She pressed her curved, Bordeaux nails into the stranger’s defined back and licked her abundant lips that matched her nails as she rode through her loud, tornadic cum.
Her erotic sex sounds of cunt choking cock were animalistic. They were barbaric. They were cavernous. And they were turning everyone in the room the fuck on. It was orgyville. The residents were living the fuckin “life.”
35
“Let’s Go Crazy”
Saturday, May 24, 2008
9:31 a.m.
The next morning, Lavender took a moment to return a few calls from home. As was usually the case, he rarely answered his cell when he was at the club.
He made a call that he dreaded. His words were bland. “What, Ramada? Why do I have seventeen calls from you in a row? Is something wrong with Taj?” He was willing to bet Taj was fine.
She spoke loud and fast. “Do I always have to continue to wait until the morning hours of the following day for you to call me back when I leave messages? My God. When I woke up this morning, I was about to call that house I know you’re probably at right now. Seems that’s the only way I get your damn attention.”
He frowned. “Milan changed her number a while ago since you just couldn’t seem to show some damn respect. What’s the big emergency?”
She popped her tongue. “Yeah, well, whatever. I need you to watch Taj today.”
“What’s up?”
“I have an appointment. A job interview. Like I said in the message, it’s really important.”
“A job interview on a Saturday?”
“Yeah. And? You got a problem with that?”
Lavender wanted to tell her what he really had a problem with was the fact that he even met her in the first place, but that would have meant no Taj. Instead he asked, “What time and for how long?”
“I can drop him off at your house at noon. My meeting is at one-thirty.”
“So you’re saying watch him for a couple of hours?” he asked, thinking to himself that would not be enough time to spend with his son. He didn’t want to feel like a babysitter.
“I guess so. Unless it takes longer. Dang, you’re usually beggin for more time with him.” She acted like she knew him well. But she was wrong. “Now it seems like I have to convince you to see your son. Feels like I’m sellin something to you, like I’m peddlin Avon products, damn.”
“I’ll come and get him at noon and drop him off at eight.”
“Well, excuse me.”
He hung up without replying to her usual sarcasm.
That afternoon at Lavender’s house, Milan walked into Taj’s room just two minutes after Lavender left to get them something to eat from Checkers. “Hey, Taj. What’s been up with you?”
“Not much.” He stood from sitting upon his bed and walked quickly to hug Milan. He held a Nintendo DS in hand.
She bent down and hugged him tightly. “Boy, you’re gonna be taller than your dad soon, that’s for sure.”
He spoke as he backed away and headed back to his bed. “I hope so. I eat a lot. I’m trying to play football. But, I can’t play sports. My mom doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
Milan leaned against the doorway. “Do you think you’ll get hurt?”
“No. I’ll knock ’em down.”
Milan laughed at the way he used his right hand to demonstrate his strength. “I’ll bet you would.”
“Is Dad bringing me a lemonade?”
“I don’t know. I’ll call him and see, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. Thanks, Milan.” Taj sat on his bed and turned to insert his iPod earpiece, bouncing his head to the beat.
Milan stepped away from his room and into the kitchen. She took her phone from her purse on the counter and prepared to dial, when she heard a knock at the door. And then the doorbell sounded. Over and over. And the knocking got louder.
She headed through the family room and into the foyer to the front door.
“Who is it?” she asked. But her view through the peephole answered her question. She gave a sigh and twisted her lips.
“It’s Ramada.” Ramada’s voice was strong.
Milan turned the doorknob and opened the Blackwood door halfway. She kept her hand on the knob. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Erotica. I saw your car, dumb ass. Your man doesn’t make room for you in his garage? Bad sign. The real question is what are you doing here? This was supposed to be Taj and his dad spending time together. Where is DeMarcus anyway?” Ramada peeked behind Milan’s back.
Milan stepped out onto the brick, portico porch and pulled the door to. She stood barefoot in a light blue JLo sweat suit with her blood boiling. “Lavender’s not here right now.” She talked herself into keeping her words civil. She noticed Ramada’s black car parked in the circular driveway behind Milan’s Benz.
Ramada took in the close-up look of every inch of Milan, from the top of her long hair, all the way down to the tips of her French-manicured toes. “So, are you telling me you’re here alone with my son?”
Milan fought to keep her voice down. “I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to get my son. Just like I said. Damn, you’re a dumb ass.” Ramada shifted her weight while her hand joined her hip. Her dark blue jeans and short black leather jacket were both fitting tight.
Milan shook her head and crossed her arms. “No you’re not.”
“I am.”
“Taj is here until eight o’clock.”
“Taj leaves when I say he leaves.”
“That’s not what Lavender told me.”
Ramada took one step toward her car. “Screw you.” She waved h
er hand at Milan. “I’m gonna call DeMarcus. Leaving my son here alone with you. Where’s my damn cell?”
“Why do you throw stones, Ramada?”
Ramada stopped in her tracks.
Milan continued, “Because those are the same stones that could be thrown at your crazy ass?”
Ramada stepped back. “You run the damn whorehouse, not me.”
Milan positioned her cell and began to dial. “Considering you were one of my members, what does that make you?” She held the phone to her ear. “You need to be locked up.”
Ramada used her eyes to point to Milan. Her voice went up a notch. “You’re the straight-up freak. Everybody knows that. He must have you dick-drugged. And I’ll have you know that I keep my personal sex life separate from my son. You do not. You live off of the sleazy, dirty-ass money you make. I make an honest living. You are feeding my son food that you bought with fuck money.” Ramada watched Milan’s every movement.
“Oh really?” Milan spoke into the phone but kept sight of Ramada. “Lavender, your son’s insane mother is here. We’re standing on the porch.”
Ramada said, “I’ll call him myself.” She looked back toward her car.
“No, here.” Milan pressed a button. “He’s on speaker. Talk to him.”
Lavender’s tense voice sounded into the air. “Ramada, what are you doing there?”
Ramada twitched her nose toward the phone. “The question is, what’s your problem, leaving my son with her?”
“Taj is at my house until eight. What I do in my home is none of your business.”
Ramada’s hand again made its way to her waist. She leaned forward. “Who you have around my son is my business. I was his full-time parent while you ran around living your playboy lifestyle. All I’m asking you now is to watch what you do around him. Otherwise, both of you will pay.”
Milan looked back toward the door and pulled on it, making sure it was closed.
Lavender said, “You need to leave. I’m not about to have Taj think I’m the reason he can’t stay until eight like I promised. And you can call whomever you want and do whatever you want. But he is staying. Milan, go in the house.”
“You’re gonna be sorry for this, DeMarcus.”
“Leave.”
Ramada asked with a look of tattletale in her eyes, “Did you ever tell her about us fucking Dee?” She asked him but stared at Milan.
Milan jumped on her question. “Yeah, he did. Anything else?”
Lavender said, almost in slow motion. “Good-bye, Ramada.”
“DeMarcus, a year ago it was only an argument. But you had to run off with her and cause all this interference.” She gave Milan a sneer. “And as for you, I’m checking my son for bruises when he gets home. Wit-cha fake ass, weave-wearing self.” Ramada sliced her eyes at Milan’s head.
Milan was stone-faced, but fingered the sides of her hair. “This is not a weave, dummy. Besides, where’d you get your damn name? Were you conceived in a hotel room?”
“Better than the seedy motel your mama turned tricks in. Bitch.”
“You need to get your delinquent self the hell out of my damn face. ”
Ramada pumped her body toward Milan. “Make me. I will fuck you up. You don’t know me.”
Milan’s jaw was tight. Extratight. Her neck rolled around in circles. “You need to go to hell, that’s what you need to do. All you do is fuck with us. You lost Lavender by screwing around when you knew the rules. So live with it. Stop being so damn jealous.”
Ramada yelled, waving her hands in front of her, poking her finger in the air like she would poke a chest. Her eyes scanned the length of Milan’s body. “You skinny-ass ho. I’m far from jealous. I used to let that man fuck other women right in front of me. I just refuse to have you around my child. Let me tell you, you don’t want to fuck with me. I ain’t no punk bitch. You’ll see. I promise you. You will see and you’ll be eating your words.” She flung her long hair that was as red as her face and stormed away.
Milan said extra low, “Oh hell no. That bitch is crazy.” She took the phone off speaker and opened the door, heading back into the house. She pressed the door closed with force and locked it. All she heard was Ramada starting up her car, burning rubber as she backed out and pulled down the street. Then Ramada laid on her horn as she turned the corner.
Milan spoke to Lavender as she entered his den and sat on the leather couch. She made a point to lower her voice even more. “Lavender, I’m telling you. I’ve had about all I can take. One day, she is going to go too far.”
“I’m sorry about that. I’m right around the corner. Milan, listen. What I didn’t tell you in front of Ramada is that I got a call from my attorney today. The one who’s preparing to represent me on the child support petition? He called me, as well as Attorney Hyatt, and we had a quick conference call.”
“And?”
“He said that he got a call from a man named Ray. It turns out he’s the one who was with Ramada the night she came into the club starting all this mess. Ray told him it looks like Ramada has a female friend she just can’t seem to shake, who I think is the one we saw in court with her. Anyways Ray got tired of hanging around so he threatened to leave her and take the Maxima I guess he bought her. They had an argument and that’s when Ramada threw some things up in his face. One of them was that he didn’t support her when she tried to set up the club. So after she hung up on him, he e-mailed her, and in her reply, which the attorney forwarded to me, not only does she threaten to blow up his Porsche, and her Maxima, she also admits to planning the entire thing, that she used him, and that there was no knife, no force, and no sexual assault. Therefore, there can be no civil charges.”
Milan’s mouth stayed open in relief, though she also had a look of exhaustion as she rubbed the creases on her forehead. She closed her mouth and stood up, passed by Taj’s room and peeked inside to see that he was still listening to his music. She headed back to sit on the sofa, all without saying a word.
“Hello. Are you there? Hello.”
“What the hell does she mean, fucked Dee?”
36
“She’s Strange”
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
6:27 p.m.
Lavender headed to Milan’s home after he’d picked up Chinese food from Panda Express. Mandarin chicken, beef and broccoli, and chow mein were her favorites.
He noticed Milan’s reserve as she greeted him at the door from the garage to the kitchen. It had been that way for a few days.
Her hug was weak. Looking down, she stepped away and silently searched the cupboard. She grabbed two plates and sat at the dining room table. He sat beside her and began to remove the food from the plastic bag.
Milan wore a frown to match the tone. “I know we got some good news because of that e-mail from that guy Ray, and the case will be done soon, but Lavender, I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re doing enough to keep Ramada in line and it’s affecting my life. I just can’t have this anymore.”
Lavender opened each of the containers by touch while he looked at her. “What? The restraining order I had you sign has been filed. She won’t be able to call you or come near you, or come to my home for that matter. And the visitation agreement will be modified to only pick up Taj at school.”
“It’s not just that. I think you almost enable her.”
“So, you’re saying it’s my fault she’s like she is?”
“I’m saying I feel like I have no choice but to put my foot down. I have to get her out of my life.”
“So, you’re willing to just walk away from me instead of support me?”
Milan grabbed two of the boxes and scooped the chow mein and the chicken onto her plate. “Lavender, you’re a man. I’d like you to be able to protect me from that woman. But obviously, you can’t. Maybe I need to just protect myself. My business life has been rough and I need my private life to be a safe place. That woman brings you drama all the time. How’ve you been able to deal with her all these year
s?” Looking puzzled, she twirled her plastic fork through her food.
“It’s been because of my son. I made the choice to break up with her. But she is the mother of my son.”
“Just like you have a choice, I have one, too. I’m telling you I’m about ready to end this, Lavender, as much as I love you. I just can’t take it anymore. I can’t allow her into my world any longer.”
Lavender kept his hand on one of the cartons. “You accept me and my son and all that goes along with me being his father, but you’re letting his mother break us up?”
Milan stared through him. Her tone was extratense. “No, you’re doing that. You won’t protect me from what goes along with her being a psycho-ass baby mama. I need peace in my life. I have a whole lot going on. But I’ll always wonder what in the hell Ramada will do next. What stunt will she pull today? How far will she go? And what bomb will she drop next, like her question about telling me who you two fucked.”
Lavender released his breath. “I know that was messed up. And I know I should have told you that by now. That was way before you. But, do you really think it’s gonna change your life for the better when you’re without the man you say you love? You’d sacrifice that all in the name of your career?”
“It’s about my sanity.” She took a small bite.
Lavender sat back in his chair. “If we were married, would you just toss me aside like this? My son is a part of me. You can’t just accept my half and not his. That, to me, sounds like conditional love.”
“I care about him a lot. But, you have to figure out a way to limit her drama in your life. For you, and for your son, and for whoever gets close to you.”
His eyes showed confusion. “So you’re just gonna give her what she wants?”