A Clean Up Man

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A Clean Up Man Page 14

by M. T. Pope


  “You sure you don’t want anything else?” She slid her glasses to the tip of her nose and looked at me like I was supposed to spill the beans on something I had done wrong. It wasn’t going to happen.

  “No, ma’am.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out for a bite to eat . . . just you and me.”

  “You want to take your momma out to eat?” She looked at me like it was a foreign thing to do.

  “Uh, yeah. It would be nice.” I smiled.

  “I take it you have nothing else better to do.” She was being sarcastic.

  “Stop, Ma. I want to spend some time with you because I want to and nothing else. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She kissed me on the cheek again and walked up the walkway toward the house. I stood there for a few seconds reconsidering my options.

  “Baby, grab that stuff and put it in the shed for me. I’ll finish it another time. Let me clean myself up and throw something on right quick.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I gathered all of the tools, plants, and mulch, and placed them in the small shed that was next to the back door of the house.

  After about five minutes, I was back in the house, sitting in the living room and waiting for my mother to get herself together. She was a woman so I knew that it would be a few minutes before she was ready to go.

  Footsteps coming down the steps let me know that she was ready much sooner then I would have thought.

  “You ready?” I quizzed her.

  “Almost.” She walked over to a small desk in the corner of the room and picked up a pen and pad.

  “What are you doing?” I asked her. She continued to scribble like I was not talking, so I got up out of the chair I was sitting in and walked across the room to see for myself.

  “Don’t tell me you are writing Angie a note.” I looked at her with my head cocked to the side.

  “Boy, hush up and stay out of grown folk business.” She put the pad down, brushed past me, and walked toward the front door.

  “I’m grown too,” I countered.

  “I hear you.” She laughed. She did that when she couldn’t care less what I was saying. She did that to me as a child and “as her child forever” she would do it until she left this green earth. Her words not mine.

  “Why don’t you just call her and let her know where you are going?”

  “I don’t call her when she is on duty. You know . . .”

  “She doesn’t play with her job.” I finished her statement, the statement that Angie should have had tattooed on the back of her damn ass.

  “Boy!” She held up her hand like she was going to swat me with it.

  “Sorry.” I smirked. “But you know she should put that mess on tape and play it for the world. Maybe even make a song from it.” I laughed really hard. She didn’t find it funny though. She just stood there and looked at me until I was finished.

  “You finished?” She smiled a very fake smile. I knew that she was about to get very serious, very fast. I joked and played with my mother but I knew when to quit, even at my age.

  “Yes,” I said as I walked on past her and out the front door. I held the door while she locked it and made sure it was secure.

  I opened the door when we got to the truck and made sure she got in safely.

  “So where are we headed to?” she asked as I pulled off.

  “Somewhere very special.” I looked at her for a second and smiled.

  “Kraig, I’m too old for surprises,” she stated.

  “Chill, Momma.” I patted her on the leg as I drove up Edmondson Avenue toward our destination. “Just enjoy the ride. I promise you will love it.”

  “We’ll see.” She huffed a little, but I paid her no mind as I drove.

  Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to Owings Mills Mall.

  “The mall?” She looked at me, confused. “I can go to the damn mall anytime.”

  “No, Ma. We are not going shopping.” I pulled into a parking spot and cut the truck off. “We are going in there.” I pointed toward the restaurant that we were going to have dinner at tonight.

  “Gramma’s?” She had frowned her face up like something smelled foul.

  “Yes, Ma!” I groaned. “I promise you will love it.” My mother wasn’t the eat-out type. She was fine with eating at home every day with no deviations.

  “Okay,” was all she said as she hopped from my truck and fixed her clothes.

  I put my hand in her hand as we walked across the parking lot toward the entrance. I began to swing them as we walked.

  “Stop that,” she warned me. “People going to think we’re together.”

  “I’m just playing, Ma.” I kissed her on the cheek and let her hand go. She wasn’t a touchy-feely person either. I mean, she loved me. She kissed me and hugged me a lot as a child, but she wasn’t like that nowadays. She was more reserved and poised. I guess that came with age.

  “Welcome to Gramma’s; are you eating in with us today?” The slim, African American female greeter asked as we walked up to her podium. The restaurant had a live jazz band playing in the back of the room and it was dimly lit, giving a mellow and tender tone to the environment. The brown, orange, and black décor was tastefully organized throughout the establishment. This establishment always, and I mean always, had the best service, and it was a black-owned establishment, too.

  “Yes, we are.” I nodded my head.

  “Great, let me show you to your seat.” She picked up two menus and led us to our table.

  When we were seated, my mother looked around the restaurant and at all the people who were scattered about: older couples, families with children, and few single people chatting on their cell phones while waiting for their orders. I loved coming here just because of the atmosphere.

  “Sure are a lot of folks in here tonight.” She eyed the menu as she spoke.

  “Sure is,” I agreed. “The food here is out of this world.”

  “I hope so.” She spoke with a lot less enthusiasm than I did. “I guess people don’t cook at home anymore. And for these prices, I could leave Shoppers Food Market with a few bags of groceries.”

  “Ma, it’s about going out and having a good time. Not prices. Besides, your son, who you raised well, can afford to take his mother out to a nice place like this one.”

  “You right about that.” She smiled and reached her hand across the table and rubbed mine. “Momma is sorry for being such a sourpuss. I am just not used to doing things like this. It’s been awhile since I did something like this. Ever since your father . . .” She caught herself like she was getting ready to say something she shouldn’t have.

  “What were you going to say?” I looked at her intensely. I was hanging on for something. Anything.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just rambling on about the past.” She focused all of her attention on the menu again. You would have thought that it was forbidden to talk about him or something.

  She really was fucking me up about this not talking about my father mess. If she weren’t my mother I would have cursed her ass out at this very moment. I was fuming on the inside.

  “So, he’s still not up for discussion?” I thought my bottom lip was trembling when I asked her. I bit it for a few seconds to try to cool off. It wasn’t working.

  “I don’t want to do this here.” She was still looking at her menu.

  “Then where at, Momma?” I snatched the menu from in front of her, because it was getting more attention than I was at the moment.

  “Have you lost your mind?” She looked angry as well. But I didn’t think she was a match for me tonight.

  “No, I am very much focused right now. Believe that.” I tried to keep my voice down but it was a task at this moment. “I am waiting on you to spill the beans on the man who helped bring me into this world. You know, the one you fucked to get me here.”

  She gasped, and I could have sworn I heard the lady in the booth behind us gasp too.

  “Yes, you’re gone. I can see
it so clearly now.” Her voice was a tad over a whisper. “If you think for a moment that I will sit here and let you disrespect me because you brought me into this sadity place, then you’re dead wrong. Dead wrong. Got me? Now if you want to continue this here evening out, I suggest you go to the bathroom and wipe your shitty ass, because I been finished wiping it for you for a long time ago. I don’t answer to you, you answer to me. Got it?”

  A person at the table a few feet from us shook his head in shame, after he let out a “damn.”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t even look up because I was too embarrassed to. I couldn’t believe my mother just read me my rights.

  “Hi, my name is Kathy.” A Caucasian waitress walked up to our table. “Can I start you off with some drinks and an appetizer today?”

  We ordered our appetizers and our food at the same time. There was little conversation at the table after our little showdown. If that is what you call it, because my ass was surely tucked in between my legs right now. I was wondering if I was going be able to shit when I got home.

  I pulled up to my mother’s door, hoping that she had forgiven me by now.

  “Ma, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just having a moment.”

  “Kraig, there is no need to apologize because I understand all about emotions and them running amuck in a conversation. I’m just not ready to talk about what you’re asking me to talk about right now. I just need you to respect me and give me time to get ready to tell you all that you want to know.”

  “Okay.” I nodded my head. “I’ll give you some time. I just don’t understand why it’s so hard to talk about it, but I guess I will find out about that part as well.”

  “Good night, baby.” She kissed me on the cheek and opened the door to get out. I watched her saunter up the walkway, up the steps, and into the house.

  “Wooo, boy.” I rubbed my hand through my hair and pulled off. “I can’t wait to get home and get in the shower.”

  Chapter 19

  Package Deal

  Before I could make it home, the “boop-boop” of a cop car behind me signaled me to pull over. I was minutes from my house and ready to get this day over with. It wasn’t real late, but I wanted to get in the house and chill. Watch a few movies and fall asleep on my living room sofa like a normal bachelor.

  “Not now.” I exhaled and then put my head on my steering wheel for a second. I lifted my head up and looked into my rearview mirror at the cop in the car. When I saw that it was Jarrod I perked up. I knew that this was a bootie call and not an ordinary pull over.

  “This dude must have been following me,” I said out loud to myself. I smiled to myself. I wondered what he wanted to do tonight, even though I already knew. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of aggression, even though I wanted it. I just thought that I would be the one in control of it. I watched him walk to my car. He was bowlegged and his husky shoulders commanded attention. I couldn’t help but watch the bulge in his clinging pants. His legs were thick . . . just like I liked them.

  “So where are you headed to?” He leaned over a little in my truck.

  “I’m on my way home, Officer.” I had to keep it professional. “Is there a problem, Officer?”

  “No.” He paused and looked at a few people who were flying by my car. I was on Hilton Parkway near North Avenue. It was unusually busy for this time of day. But, the weather was good so I knew that people were out and about. Some people didn’t even care about the fact that a cop car had me pulled over. They just kept on driving. “Just checking on you.”

  “Checking on me?” I quizzed. “With all these cars speeding by, you stopped me?”

  “It’s my job to make sure people are driving safely and cautiously.” He smiled.

  “And you are doing a very good job of that, sir.” I flirted with his ego now. “There needs to be more cops on the streets just like you.”

  “True that.” He smiled again.

  “Sooooo.” I tapped my fingers on my steering wheel a few times. “Anything else I can help you with, since we both know that I’m safe?”

  “You have anything in mind?” He adjusted his crotch openly.

  I went in my pocket and pulled out some ChapStick to gloss my lips up. “I can think of some things.” I rubbed my lips together to get that maximum glow and then looked at him in the eyes and then at his dick again. I saw it jump through his pants and I almost came right then and there.

  “Cool, I get off duty in an hour. I’ll hit you up with the when and where.”

  “Cool,” I said as plainly as I could. My insides were bubbling with horniness.

  “Later.” He walked off and I watched his bubble butt as he walked away.

  “Damn, baby got back.” I pulled off toward my house. I showered and got dressed in some easy-access breakaway basketball pants and a white tee. No underwear was a must. I put on a fitted hat and waited for the bootie call.

  It was about ten o’clock when I got the text to meet him at a motel in Essex. It was a ways from my house, about forty minutes on the beltway, but I was up for the drive. I knew that he wanted to be close to home, so he could have a good alibi for his wife if she asked any questions when he got home. From the things that I saw when I was in their home, I could tell he was totally in charge and she asked no questions about his whereabouts. She was the homemaker to the fullest.

  I hopped into my truck, headed up Liberty Heights Avenue and hit I-695 toward Towson. I drove at about sixty-five miles an hour to get there. I made it there in thirty minutes. I pulled up to the Super 8 on Stemmers Run Road and parked my truck.

  This wasn’t the best place to be having relations but I had to do what I had to do. I grabbed my kit and some special items that I had purchased a couple of days ago. I was preparing “the package,” and I’m not talking about some dick, either. This package was going to blow his world apart as he knew it. I felt a little guilty as I walked into the motel and picked out a room. But the feeling didn’t last too long because I had about five minutes to get what I had to get together before he showed up.

  Jarrod was a precise muthafucka and he did things with precision and so did I. I pulled out some condoms and some special treats that were going to blow his mind. He didn’t know that he turned me into a monster all those years ago and that monster was like Frankenstein turning on its creator.

  I was in the bathroom when he came in. I had my little iPod radio playing one of my favorite songs as he came in the room: “There Goes My Baby” by Charlie Wilson. I was setting the mood for sure. Cheap champagne and candles and, yes, some toys. Yes, I was going fuck his world up for sure. It was like a switch got flipped inside of me on the way over here.

  “Hey.” I walked into the room, out of the bathroom, with a rose in my mouth. Yes, I knew it was corny but dudes like him needed to be baited and then hung out to dry. I had my shirt off and I was glistening all over. I didn’t have a six pack but not a gut, either. I was average.

  “Damn, nigga. What’s all this shit for?” he questioned.

  “I do shit right or I don’t do it at all.” I smiled and walked over to him. By this time “S&M” by Rihanna came on and I ripped my pants off like I was a sure enough stripper. His mouth fell open as I turned around with my ass toward him, reached down and touched my toes, and then slowly eased back up with my hands on my legs and all the way up my body. I put my hand in the air and jiggled my ass for him while I peeked over my shoulder to see the look on his face. The hard-on in his pants let me know I was doing it well.

  “You ready?” I walked over to him and caressed his pecks through his T-shirt.

  “Fuck, yeah, a nigga ready,” he boasted with a huge smile on his face. His lips were almost touching his ears because he was smiling so hard.

  “All right, daddy, I’m about to give it to you. All of it!” I eased my hand down to his belt buckle and undid it. The monster on the inside was throbbing like a heartbeat. I took his warm monster in my hand as I stood in front of him. We were about two inch
es apart as I leaned in and took his earlobe into my mouth and sucked on it like I was going to do his dick in a few minutes.

  “Uhhhh . . .” He shuddered in ecstasy as I took his whole ear in my mouth. I rubbed the pre-cum on his dick with my thumb as I continued to molest his ear. I pulled his dick down and let it slap him on his stomach. His dick was like steel. I eased the hand that was on his dick up under the T-shirt that he had on and played with his nipples.

  “Take if off!” I commanded. He eased out of his shirt. Biceps and pecks were flexing in the process. Now my dick was hard as steel.

  “Officer, do I have permission to handle your nightstick?” I put my finger in my mouth and pulled it out slowly after I said it. He nodded silently.

  I was on my knees in seconds and his dick hit the back of my throat in seconds. I reached both of my hands up and played with his pecks as I engulfed his meat. His hand went from palming my head to clawing my shoulder blades.

  “Mutha . . . fucka!” he moaned. Lloyd’s “Lay It Down” was now playing so I pulled up and guided him by his dick to the bed. I pushed him down roughly and then pulled his pants off one leg at a time. He looked at me in amazement. I assumed he didn’t have any of this done to him by his wife. Next, I straddled him like a cowboy in a rodeo. His dick was on his stomach so I eased up a little until it was in between my butt cheeks and I rubbed myself back and forth to build up the heat and the friction. His hands made their way to my hips and I ground harder to let him know that he was leaving here weak and drained, if at all.

  “Oh shit, I’m coming!” And sure enough he squirted all over his chest.

  His chest pumped up and down as I smiled.

  “That was one of many,” I boasted. He smiled again, like he was ready. He wasn’t.

  “Turn over, daddy.” I watched as he did as he was instructed. He was flat out on the bed. I spread his legs apart and went in for some more damage. I began to toss his salad. He moaned and moaned as I licked and licked. He started to dry hump the bed as I ate him out.

  “You like that, daddy?” I came up for air.

  He ignored me and reached behind himself to push my head back down to his warm anus. I went back to work. I took a break from his ass to work on his huge balls. I loved every minute of this. I took both of them in my mouth and sucked on them good. He was still dry humping the sheets.

 

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