“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” he exclaimed. “Get the hell out of here!”
“I wanna talk.”
Samson was caught exposed. He quickly finished peeing and zipped up his trousers. Baby stood there with a smile. She tried to take a peek at his package, but he was pressed too close to the urinal to get a clear look at his dick. Samson became uncomfortable. Baby had put him in an awkward position, and she knew if they were caught together in the men’s bathroom alone, it would raise questions, even if nothing happened. Baby loved the risk.
“I’m not playing with you, Baby... This is not a fucking game. Get the fuck outta here!” Samson barked.
It was the first time she heard him curse, or become hostile. Baby loved it. It was turning her on—it made her pussy ripple like a wave. She wasn’t scared of him or his shouting. She looked at Samson with a daring look and said, “What, you scared I might see your dick? Shit, show me yours and I’ll show you mines.”
Baby became even more daring, lifting up her pink tennis skirt in front of Samson to reveal her secret: she came to school with no panties on, or had removed them earlier.
Samson was completely shocked. Her exposed pussy was completely shaved clean and fresh—dripping with her sweet nectar.
“See, I’m not shy,” she added. “You like it?”
Samson was appalled more than turned on. She was risking his job, and he needed the income. He became speechless. The only thing Samson could do was rush out of the bathroom and hurry away from her.
Baby continued to smile and liked the reaction she created.
Chapter 10
Samson came home to find his mother asleep on the couch. She was still in her work uniform. It was late evening. The TV was on, playing reruns of The Cosby Show. The room was dimmed. The table was cluttered with open mail and magazines. It was a typical evening at home.
Samson was in plain clothes and he was hungry. His mother had leftover dinner on the table. He looked at his mother and knew she had another hard day at work. She had been working overtime every day, breaking her back to keep up with the bills and the mortgage. He rarely saw his mother and, when he did, she was either asleep, or coming and going from her two jobs. Samson hated to see his mother work so hard. She was fifty-five, and should be living in her golden years, taking it easy—reaching retirement. But instead, his mother was struggling to keep from going under in debt. Her savings was dwindling. While Samson was overseas, his mother had to take out a second mortgage on her home to pay for her doctor bills. She had become ill with cancer.
It had been rough for Samson since his return to the States and his discharge from the service. His job at the school was average and, he felt, was pointless. He was a soldier, and still carried himself as one, but he felt trapped. His world was guns and the Marines—protecting his country’s freedom. At August Martin, he felt like a sap clad in a clown’s uniform trying to protect young brats who didn’t care about anything but themselves.
Samson thought about Baby, and was somewhat troubled by her shocking stunt in the bathroom. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way her body curved underneath the tennis skirt made him aroused for a moment. Her heavy beauty and curvy physique was stimulating to the point where Samson was almost paralyzed from it, but she was too young; Samson had her beat by ten years. He wanted to get the image out of his head. It had been a long while since he’d been with a woman. Most of his time was spent in the service, fighting in Iraq, and at home, dwelling over what his life had become.
Samson went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He piled mounds of food onto his plate and stuffed it into the microwave. He pressed for five minutes. He then walked back into the living room and picked up a few pieces of mail from off the coffee table. He went through each piece seeing if anything had come for him, but everything was mostly bills and junk mail. Samson suddenly stopped at one piece of mail he came across in his hand. It caught his attention like a sharp pain inside of him. He was taken aback. His eyes burned into the bold, black letters stamped across the white envelope saying, FINAL WARNING, FORECLOSURE.
“What the fuck!” he mouthed to himself.
He didn’t know what to expect. He removed the letter from the envelope and quickly read through it. They were about to lose their home. They were four months behind in paying the mortgage, and owed the bank, in total, $25,000. They didn’t have that kind of money. Samson felt shaky. He had grown up there. It was his home—his foundation. He wanted to hold back the tears, but it was hard. His family was hurting. He had already been through so much. He knew his mother wanted to keep it a secret from him; that’s why the letter was concealed under everything else, like a dirty little secret under the pile of bills.
Samson let out an exasperated sigh. He didn’t know what to do. He looked down at his sleeping mother, and felt he had let her down. She tried to hide it from him. It was embarrassing. They were being evicted from their own home. It was something he wasn’t going to allow to happen. He planned on taking action. He was angry. Samson felt that he’d put so much into protecting his country, and then adapting to become a civilian, and now they wanted to put him out.
Samson placed the letter back into the envelope and situated it the same way he found it. He heard the microwave beeping, indicating his food was ready to be taken out. Samson walked into the kitchen, removed his plate, sat down at the table, and ate his meal silently in a somber mood.
The next school day, Samson stood by the cafeteria entrance with a stone-cold stare, and a serious mood. The students were loud and lively like always. His thoughts were heavy on the foreclosure. He tried hard to keep his composure and sanity, but he felt himself slipping gradually the more he thought about it. He watched the students in the cafeteria keenly. But he was looking for one particular lady. She strutted into the cafeteria ten minutes after the lunch period started. She was lively and looking stunning in her eye-catching attire like always.
Baby brushed by Samson with her usual smile and flirting. Samson remained himself with his deadpan gaze. Baby took a seat with her girls at the table and they began talking and laughing. She then glanced over at Samson and smiled once more. Samson looked her way and held her stare, lingering on her beauty. It was the longest Baby had ever seen him staring at her. She thought their encounter in the bathroom had finally had some strong effect on him.
Samson caught himself staring at her too long and quickly turned his direction elsewhere, but his lingering eyes upon her gave Baby the window she needed. She knew he was interested. It took awhile, but she figured that she finally hooked him. Baby continued conversing with her friends, while Samson surveyed the cafeteria making sure everything was okay.
The lunch period ended, and Baby moved closer to Samson and said to him, “I saw you staring earlier; you finally starting to like what you see?”
Samson kept his deadpan demeanor and didn’t answer her. He focused on his job, watching the students leave the cafeteria. He wasn’t in the mood, or didn’t want to get caught frolicking with anyone. His soldier behavior made him a little aloof from the students, and even the staff, and his coworkers. He didn’t hang out after the job like his coworkers. While they went to bars and clubs to get drinks, mingle, and have a good time, Samson was home. A few ladies had a strong crush on him, and they wanted to get to know him better, but Samson didn’t want to get to know them. The other school safety officers started to think that he had internal issues—that Iraq had fucked him up.
Baby stood by Samson closely and said, “It’s cool, daddy ... I know how it is.”
She strutted out of the cafeteria, leaving Samson pondering. He glanced at Baby, and thought about the unthinkable—but then erased the burdensome image from his mind and focused on work.
It was after 5:00 P.M. when Samson exited the school, coming underneath the rapidly graying sky, and began making his way toward his truck parked on the street. Sam
son walked briskly and looked up at the sky. He could smell the rain approaching. It had been a long day. He wanted to go home and get some sleep. He crossed the silent street. Removing the keys from his pocket, he pressed to deactivate the alarm to his ride and unlocked the doors. When he got near the driver’s side, he suddenly heard, “Can I get a ride home?”
Samson swiftly turned, and behind him stood Baby—only a few feet away. It appeared that she came out of nowhere. Samson was surprised. He looked around, and the street was clear. Everyone had gone home.
“What do you want from me?” he asked sternly.
“Just your time,” she replied innocently. “We can talk.”
“Listen, little girl, I ain’t your damn peer,” he barked, approaching Baby closely, trying to intimidate her.
“I’m not a little girl ... Shit, look at me, nigga, do anything seem little on this body?” Baby said, stepping back from Samson, doing a 360, and showing him her ripe body. She was wearing a jean skirt with a jacket. Her eyes stayed glued to Samson.
“I gotta go,” he said sharply, heading back to his truck.
“Give me a ride, then,” she persisted. “You lookin’ stressed or desperate about somethin’ right now, yo! You can talk to me.”
Samson turned once again to look at her. “Why you say that?” he asked her.
“I see it in your eyes ... They never lie.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “What the hell I’m gonna talk to you about? You’re only eighteen.”
“And? Age ain’t nothin’ but a number, and believe me, nigga ... I got more wisdom inside of me than you think. You can talk to me about anything; I might surprise you,” she said with conviction.
“You might ... but I’m not with that. I don’t socialize with students.”
“We ain’t in school right now. This is just two people talkin’ on the block,” replied Baby.
“What’s so fuckin’ special about me?”
“Ya different. I see it in your eyes, your mental, your demeanor ... you keep to yourself, and you don’t fuck wit’ any of them clown-ass niggas in this school. I respect that about you.”
“What you know about respect? You hardly give it to anybody,” he returned.
“A muthafucka gotta earn my fuckin’ respect from me.”
“You gotta give respect first to get it.”
“And don’t I get it,” she uttered. “They don’t fuck wit’ me.”
“Look, Baby, right ... That stunt in the bathroom the other day, it wasn’t cute. And this right here, you and me, it ain’t happening,” Samson exclaimed.
“What ain’t happening? What ... you think I wanna fuck you?” She chuckled. “I just did that for a show. I like attention. And I wanted your attention at the time.”
“I see,” he said.
“I just wanna talk. You’re a Marine, and my father was a Marine. I don’t know too much about my father, he was always gone ... but you remind me of him, somewhat. I just wanna talk to a soldier that did a tour overseas like my father did,” she proclaimed.
Samson looked at her for a moment. He didn’t know what to think or expect from her. She was intelligent. He knew by the way she spoke, that Baby could be very articulate. But she hid how smart she really was by her fierce attitude, foul language, fighting, and promiscuity. She also had charisma and beauty, two deadly ingredients for a woman. Samson sighed. He looked at Baby, and reluctantly said, “Just this one time.”
Baby smiled. She rushed toward his truck and climbed inside the passenger seat. Samson looked uneasy about it, but he climbed into his truck and started the ignition. He didn’t pull off right away. It looked like something was eating away at him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and sighed heavily. He glanced at Baby, and couldn’t believe he had her in the passenger seat of his truck. Samson knew it was a risk that he couldn’t afford to take, but he was taking it.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Baby asked.
“How far do you live from here?”
“Not far ... I’m on Guy Brewer and Foch,” she answered.
He knew the area. Samson hesitated to pull off, though. His mind drifted to someplace else for the moment. He looked straight ahead, at nothing in particular. He had been on the job for a month, and for him, it was a dead end.
“You miss it, don’t you?” Baby suddenly stated.
“What?”
“The Marines. I could tell you miss it. You don’t wanna be here, right?”
“It’s a job.”
“But you had a life, and they took that from you ... just like they took my father away from me,” she said.
Samson gazed at Baby. She hit the nail on the head; he went from having a life, a career with the Marines, to a local job at a school. It was eating away at him. He missed the excitement, his rank, and the traveling. He missed making a difference—protecting his country by any means necessary.
Before he knew it, Samson was engaged into a full conversation with Baby while still parked. He poured out all of his feelings to Baby, and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t control himself. He was angry. Baby sat there and was willing to listen to him gripe. The frustration he felt was suddenly released like a flowing waterfall, and Baby was there to collect his sorrows like a puddle in her hands.
“Life is fucked up, that’s all I can say ... but sometimes a bad situation can put you in a good moment in life,” she stated. “I used to hear my father say that all the time when I was young. I guess he used to say that to himself when he was fighting for his life in different countries.”
They were words of wisdom coming from an eighteen-year-old.
Samson then changed his gloomy look to a questionable stare at Baby, and asked, “What’s your story, huh? I look at you, and I see someone that’s more than meets the eye. You’re smart, Baby, so who you’re fooling? Why you act the way you do? You got potential to do something with your life.”
“Listen, you’re not from my world, so you wouldn’t understand,” she replied.
“So, make me understand. But I done saw horrors that you can’t even imagine.”
“So have I,” Baby matched. “So I guess we’re both two peas in a pod, right?”
“I guess we are.”
Samson found an unexpected comfort with Baby. The two sat for a half hour talking with time gradually passing by. Baby found herself leaning closer to him. Her eyes were strongly on Samson. Her thick legs gleamed from underneath the skirt she wore. Samson inadvertently stared at her long, defined legs and his mind abruptly was awash with waves of lust. He felt himself being pulled into a strong craving.
“I think it’s time for us to go,” he said suddenly, trying to snap himself out of the lustful thoughts.
“We can chill for a little longer. I’m in no rush to get home.”
Samson looked at the time on the dashboard. It was five-thirty. The skies were getting darker and were soon about to burst open with rain and thunder. The two looked at each other heavily. Samson once again felt paralyzed from her beauty, and her conversation was on point. His mind told him to leave right now, and not to pursue the unthinkable, but his body had him trapped like a young stag in a lion’s den.
“What you thinkin’ about?” Baby asked him.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You sure? I know you got a lot on ya mind.” Baby leaned closer to him, and her hand rested on his leg naturally. She started to massage his thigh, and then her caresses slowly reached up to his strapping chest.
Samson found himself becoming aroused by her soft touch. He wanted to resist, but he didn’t. Everywhere she touched him felt better than it ever had before. Each touch was alluring. Each caress was the most sensational caress that he could imagine, and then some. Samson felt his dick jump with hardness. It felt like it was ready to tear from his jeans. Baby rubbed his crotch tenderly and neared her lips against his. He opened his mouth for her tongue and let it plunder his mouth. They started to kiss fervently. Her lips were the softest lips h
e’d ever felt before.
With swiftness, Baby undid his jeans and pulled out his throbbing, hard dick. It was swelled with thickness and hard like concrete in Baby’s soft grip. She stroked him lovingly. Her fingers wrapped around his cock with delight, putting Samson in bliss. Baby then suddenly attacked his dick, kissing the mushroom tip and wrapping her sweet lips around it. Samson’s hand quickly went to her head. Her head bobbed back and forth in his lap. She had him weakened. His dick was at full staff down her throat, opening farther with each dip and swallow, hinting at a promise of taking every inch of him within. Baby sucked him off like a true porn star. She hummed at his balls, and would slip her lips back upward to his dripping tip.
Samson grunted. “Ugggh! Ugggh ... shit.”
Her pleasurable actions went on for fifteen minutes. Baby showed pure stamina when it came to sucking dick. She deep throated it, jerked him off, and was ready to have him come in her mouth if necessary. She had Samson squirming in his seat like his ass was on fire.
Baby pulled herself away from the dick abruptly and uttered, “I wanna fuck!”
Samson had to collect himself for a moment. His dick was still hard like calculus. His pants and boxers were lying around his ankles. He was completely exposed to her. The rain started; it came down heavy outside, and cascaded off the windshield like his truck was caught underneath a raging waterfall. It gave them the perfect cover.
Baby removed her skirt and top, and became buck naked in the front seat. Samson fastened his eyes to her nude body, and was almost in awe. Her shapely and flawless figure with her swelled tits and slender neck that was surrounded by her hair was hard to resist.
“You like what you see?” Baby asked.
He was caught up in the moment. She leaned toward him once more, stroking his long, thick shaft and getting his large member ready for action. Her eyes flared with a hungry lust. Baby climbed on top of him, sliding her bare hips down to his ready-to-burst organ, feeling his large member penetrate her slowly, and she began to ride his raw-boned dick, getting ready to drive. The soft flesh Samson felt caused him to pull Baby’s hair roughly and grasp her ass, as her sweet nectar dripped against his balls.
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