by Eureka
I slowly stood up in front of him. The soap and water from the Jacuzzi bubbles dripped down my body. I looked at Flex and reached my hand out to him. “Come lie down with me, please. I haven’t had any good sleep since they took him. I want to rest my eyes some before we go to the next address. Will you come lie with me?”
Flex placed his hand in mine and stood up to face me. Water and soap dripped from his clothes. He slipped off his shoes and slowly removed his shirt, exposing his well-proportioned chest. The soap on his chest area had his mocha complexion with a hint of vanilla glistening. He had a scar on the right side of his chest. He gazed at me with those eyes, the same eyes his son had: brown with a hint of gray. My hand roamed over his chest. I said aloud every word of his tattoo as I traced the letters with my fingertips: “Forever is we, Death before Dishonor.” I touched each letter slowly as if I was reminiscing about the moment we got them. He caressed my shoulder and allowed his hand to rub across the matching tattoo I had that rested just above my right breast. I remembered we got matching tattoos when we were just seventeen: Forever is we, Death before Dishonor. It was the symbol of our bond which not even distance or death could come between.
I unbuttoned his pants. Flex finished unzipping them for me, lowering them to his ankles. Once they were all the way off, he threw them to the floor, soaking wet. The water dripped from our bodies as the cool air stiffened my nipples.
“I love you, Elana,” Flex said as he softly kissed my neck.
“And I love you, Kajaun,” I replied, lifting up on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his awaiting lips.
We kissed each other as if it were our last breath, the forbidden meal for the two of us. In a matter of seconds, we were wrapped in each other’s arms. I wanted and needed the pain to go away as if my very life depended on it, and being with Flex was my escape from harsh reality.
We stepped out of the tub and walked to one of the bedrooms in this small on the outside but spacious on the inside, hideaway. He laid me gently on the bed, where we cuddled. He took his time and made sure I could be myself with him. We lay in the spooning position for a moment, and he twirled my hair in his fingers and kissed my neck. We lay there naked under the covers, just wrapped up in each other.
I looked over my shoulder. “Please make love to me. I need you, Flex. I want you.”
He lowered his soft, thick lips to the nape of my neck and gently kissed all over the back of my neck and shoulders. He took his time with me and finally turned me over to face him. He positioned his six-foot-one frame on top of me and seductively invaded my lips with his tongue. He gently stroked my hardened nipples. Every stroke from his hot, wet tongue sent a welcoming sensation throughout my body. The nectar from my sweet, tight snatch started flowing down the creases of my inner lips. I moved my hips, thrusting to meet his massive nine-inch member.
“Not yet. I wanna taste you,” he said as he placed my hands together over my head.
I loved when he would pin me down and make thug love to me. I released light moans of passion into the air.
“Open your legs wider,” he said in a stern tone.
“Anything you say, ba—”
“Shh! I didn’t tell you to speak,” he said as he lowered his face down to lick and suck on my erect nipples.
I kissed his chest, making trails with my tongue to his neck. He gently began feasting on my nipples. I lowered my hands to rub his back, but he quickly put them back above my head.
“I didn’t say move!” he said sternly.
It was the way he would take control, and it excited me more. He kissed my neck, and with his tongue, he made a long, sloppy trail down to my wet pussy. His mouth watered with anticipation at the lovely sight before him. My clit was exposed and hard as if it were about to jump right into his welcoming mouth. He took the tip of his tongue and tickled it, around and around in circular motions, making light strokes, then deeper ones. The sounds of him slurping and sucking me into bliss were like no other.
Before I could release my sweet juices all over his tongue, I pushed his head forcefully from between my thighs. I flipped him over on his back, and before he could protest, I took all his dick in my mouth. I relaxed my throat muscles and deep-throated his massive member with ease. I bobbed my head up and down and then side to side, stiffening my jaw muscles. I knew the spot to make his toes curl and his back arch. I gave him the hula hoop. I tightened my jaw muscles and suctioned his member like a glove, leaving no room for air. All he could feel was my warm saliva running down the side of his member. I sucked and blew on the tip of his dick until his back arched, letting me know he was about to release his load. Before he could release himself into my mouth, I slowly climbed on top of him.
“Damn! Shorty, your head game is the truth,” Flex said as he wrapped his arms around my size fourteen waist in a bear-hug type of hold and began grinding his member deep inside of me.
“Mmm, yes, Kajaun, I love you! Go deeper; touch all of this pussy.” I met him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke. My hands rested around his neck, and he fucked me into a state of sexual bliss. He pounded soft, then slow. Each stroke was different; no two were the same. He rotated his hips in a twirling motion, thrusting deeper inside of me. I released soft moans into the air as he touched my sweet G-spot. The way he touched me and the long, deep thrust he delivered caused a tear to fall down my cheeks.
“Mmm, I . . . love . . . you,” I moaned.
He tightened his grip a little more, grabbing a handful of each of my ass cheeks. He moved his hips again, this time thrusting deeper and deeper inside of me. My hot wetness oozed down his dick like smooth, melted butter. He couldn’t hold it any more.
“Aaah, aaah, grr!” he released into the air.
It was as if we were singing in the same choir. Not even two seconds later, I joined him, almost in unison. “Oh shit, yes! Yes, mmm, yes, yes!”
We released the sounds of our passion as our sweet nectar mixed. He filled my walls with his thick nectar, and I painted his member with my glistening wetness.
After the last long thrust, breathing hard and panting, I rolled over from on top of him. “Oh . . . my . . . God, that was good! I needed that.” I cuddled in his arms.
Flex released a long breath into the air as he tried to regain his composure. “Dutch, baby, I love you. You know that, right? This ain’t just words a nigga say to anyone and don’t mean it.” Silence filled the air for a brief second. “Shorty, why didn’t you tell me Junior is my son? I know you did what you thought was right for him, but I wanna hear you say the words.”
I lay there wrapped in his arms.... The arms I always wanted to be in. There had never been a man able to touch me down to my very core besides Flex. It was as if he touched my soul. Our sex session just made it even better. But I couldn’t seem to bring myself to say the words, “He’s your son, Kajaun.” I couldn’t allow that phrase to cross my lips.
“Flex, please, can we lie here for a minute? I need to rest my eyes so we can find our son.” Before I could take my last words back, just like that, I had admitted that Flex was indeed the father of my son. I couldn’t say the exact words he wanted, but I made it clear in my own way. The way he would understand. It felt like a weight was lifted, but telling Naheri weighed heavier than ever now.
“Okay, Elana, I will let this go for now, but as soon as we find our son, we will leave this life and be the family we were meant to be. Can you at least think about that?” he said sternly as he hugged me tighter.
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even think about the future for us as a real family. What would happen to Naheri? He was the only father my son knew. How would I look in my son’s eyes? I knew that I couldn’t hide it any longer, and the longer I waited, the more devastating it would be for little man. I had to do it the right way.
We lay spent in each other’s arms and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 7
Reality over Fiction
“Help! Help me! Flex, please, they said if
I didn’t call you, they would—” Bridgette yelled in the phone as Rasta punched her right in the nose, sending the phone flying across the room.
“You tell dem what mi say or your head off!” he said angrily with a strong Jamaican accent as he walked over to pick the phone up.
Bridgette sat crying hysterically in fear of what would happen next.
Rasta picked up the phone and coldly spoke into it. “Aw, dis dem bad boi? Mi been searching ’round for ya. Now mi got ya and dat fuckin’ witch, Dutchtress. She kills mi brudah and feel she gwan roam free! Nah,” he said sinisterly into the phone.
I jumped up, still dazed and a little confused. “Who the fuck is this!”
“Aw, so ya don’t know mi now, is that right?” Rasta spoke into the phone as he twirled Bridgette’s hair with his finger. “Just know de bastard boi of she will die. She will feel pain like mi when she cut mi bruda’s head clean off. De bloodclot. Tell me sumpting, where de fuckin’ bitch?” he asked, referring to Dutchtress.
I sat straight up in the bed. “Listen, you Rasta muthafucka, when I get my hands on you, I will squeeze the life right outta yo’ ass with my bare hands!”
“Ya bad, now, huh? And when she find de likle boi head pon she office door, ya still bad?” He started laughing, then hung up.
Dutch was now at full attention. She didn’t say a word. She got up as if in a trance. She moved swiftly, rushing to the bathroom and taking a quick wash. I had already anticipated the move, so as she left one room, I went in just as quickly. After a brief couple of seconds, we were both dressed and ready.
“Call Jorge. We need his assistance,” she said as she remembered their close ally. “Maybe he can help.” It was a long shot, but they needed all the help they could get. Dutch strapped on her Glock 9 mm with nothing but murder on her mind.
After I got on the phone, going into specific details with Jorge about the whole situation, he told me he would get back to me in a few with some information on the whereabouts of Junior.
Dutch looked over at me, immediately wanting the scoop. “So, what did he say?”
“He said he’d get at me in a few with some intel.”
“Well, I hope so! I need my baby. I know he’s scared. I should have chopped that nigga’s balls off when I had the chance,” she said through gritted teeth as she remembered her last encounter with Rasta and his brother. She had wanted to kill him too, but time was not on her side, and he got away.
* * *
When Flex’s phone first rang, that woke me up; then hearing a female’s voice screaming through the phone, I became wide awake. I lay there motionless, listening to the entire phone conversation. When I heard the man’s voice on the other end, I knew it was Rasta. At that moment, I cursed the day I had let that pussy get away. I broke one of my rules: Leave no witness. Now it had come back to bite me in the worst way. My baby, my son, the very reason I breathed every day, might pay for my mistake with his little life.
I looked over at Flex with a mean scowl on my face. “Tell me, where does that white chick on the other end of that phone call fit into our nice and neat little future?”
Flex lowered his head. At that moment, he thought about how he and Bridgette had been hooking up for a good while—a little over a year, to be exact. He had never mentioned it to Dutch because when he was with her, no other woman mattered.
I had met her one night at Naheri’s office after a Christmas party he gave. I only came because Dutch begged me. She thought a change of scenery would be good for me, so reluctantly, I gave in. After about an hour, I was ready to leave. I got tired of standing around and acting phony, kicking it with some of the most bougie black people I’d ever seen or been around.
I couldn’t take being in there, and it was becoming stuffy. I watched all the so-called elite, phony muthafuckas act as if they ruled the world. I walked over and tapped Dutch on her shoulder. “I’m stepping outside for a smoke.” She nodded her head, and I stepped out a side door.
“Hey, you gon’ share that shit?” a soft voice came from behind me as I lit the front of my Kush-filled blunt.
I needed to get a hit if I was going to continue to stand in that room keeping an eye out for Dutch and anyone who might think it was sweet to come at her during the party. I was there as her bodyguard regardless of whether she wanted it. “Yeah,” I said turning around to face a honey-blond, thicker-than-a-Snicker, nice-shaped white female standing behind me. I took a moment to take in her semisexiness.
“Hey, my name is Bridgette. I work for Dr. Dolvan.”
“Oh, okay. What you know ’bout this good shit right here?” I inhaled a long puff of the blunt and watched her as the smoke from the blunt drifted in the air.
The smell was so euphoric that it only made Bridgette want it more. Often, she hit a blunt or two, but sometimes she would lace it with some cocaine to get a deeper feeling from the weed. “Look, give it to me and I’ll show you what I can do with this so-called good shit. Hell, I probably have had better.”
I lightly chuckled. “Is that right? You make it a habit of stepping up to strangers and asking them for they weed?” I waited for her response.
She laughed. “No, I don’t, and you are hardly a stranger. I’ve seen you before with Mrs. Dolvan. Is she your sister or somethin’?” she asked with a knowing look on her face.
I smiled, showing her some of the brightest teeth she had ever seen. She inhaled the blunt and released it into the air. Then she seductively smiled at me. I knew what that look meant.
“Hey, I’m a straight-up kind of girl, and right now, I want to be honest with you. I wanna fuck you, point-blank. I see no need to bullshit around. I find you sexy as hell, and I would love to blow the top off that dick.”
I was taken aback a little by her straightforwardness. “Damn, shorty, you really that chick, huh? I find you attractive and all, but I don’t think right now is the ti—” I looked inside the office through the window and saw Naheri plant a passionate kiss on Dutch. Although she was married to him, I never liked to see her in a passionate embrace with him.
I looked on with a mean scowl, then quickly turned back toward Bridgette, who was standing with a smile on her face like a cat that swallowed the canary. “You know what?” I said in a stern tone. “I changed my mind. Let’s do this. I would love to see those juicy pink lips wrapped around my dick.”
Bridgette bit down on her bottom lip. “I can’t wait to suck that big black dick! You got some more of that Kush? That shit was fire.”
“Yeah, I got some more in my car. Follow me over to the parking lot.”
We walked over to my 2011 custom-made black-on-black Chevy Suburban. I hit the alarm and opened the door for her to climb in. Then I pulled out the second blunt and lit it up.
My thoughts were not on the sexy white beauty sitting in the front passenger seat but on the sight of my one and only love kissing her husband and looking as if she enjoyed it. My heart was heavy. Dutch held a piece of me that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.
Bridgette broke my deep thoughts as I inhaled the blunt. She rubbed her hands up my thigh until she reached my manhood. “I see you play with big toys.” She smiled seductively.
I smiled, “Yeah, big toys for big boys.” I took another pull from the blunt and flicked the ashes in the ashtray.
In one quick motion, Bridgette went to unzip my pants. The nice linen suit I wore that night made for easy access. She wasted no time exposing my massive nine-inch python. Her eyes widened, and her mouth spread even wider as she lowered her head, placed my manhood in her mouth, and went to work. She bobbed her head up and down and side to side as she deep-throated my entire penis in her mouth. She massaged the sides with her hands as she worked me into an orgasmic rhythm. When she felt her gag reflexes, she slowed her pace and slowly made love to my manhood with her mouth.
I threw my head back on the seat in bliss as she worked my manhood into a sexual explosion. All of my sweet, thick load released into her mouth.
She didn’t slow her pace. She slurped and swallowed every drop.
“Aww, shit!” I said, making a slithering sound.
Bridgette sucked and sucked until I became hard again. She lifted her leg to climb on top of me.
“Wait, let me grab this condom.” I lifted the console and placed the condom on my rock-hard manhood; then she climbed on top of me and rode me as if she were on a mustang. She shifted and grinded her hips deeper on my dick.
“Aw, aw, shit, this feels so fuckin’ good! Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck my cunt!” she screamed in ecstasy.
I was thrown off a little by her sex talk, but I kept a steady rhythm, diving in and out of her wet, tight, juicy box.
“Aaah, shit, aaah, shit!” I released another relaxing load inside of the condom.
We sexed in the truck for a while, smoking most of the night.
I hadn’t noticed that Dutch had come outside to look for me.
Where the fuck did he go? I looked at the parking lot to see if his truck was still here. When I saw his truck rocking wildly, I thought for sure something was wrong. I rushed over with a small revolver in my hand. It was my little backup in case something popped off. I lived by the code “never get caught slipping.” I had the gun cocked and ready to murder anyone who was in the truck. When I eased up to the truck, I heard the sexual moans of a female, and when I listened closer, I heard a familiar moan. Motherfucker!
I couldn’t see shit, so I lowered my gun and stared for a brief moment. My first thought was to go off and shoot him and whoever the bitch was in the truck. But I ultimately decided it would not be a good move.
I was ready to tell Naheri it was over and my son was not his. I knew for certain the baby was Flex’s. We’d been together almost every day that month, like two wild animals. I made up my mind that Flex, our son, and I were going to be a family, and we were going to leave this dangerous part of our lives for good. At least, that was the plan . . . until I saw his truck rockin’ and heard sounds only he could make deep in some pussy. I turned and quickly stormed off back to the party. I walked over to the area where they’d set aside for drinks and grabbed a nice tall glass of champagne and downed it like it was water. I drank glass after glass until the euphoric feeling took over, and I couldn’t feel my face anymore. I got so drunk that I thought the baby would die or be born with a birth defect.