Bubbles

by Candace Blevins

  “Why didn’t the uncle take him in?”

  She gave me a piercing look. “This is where things get fucked up, and the truth is, we don’t have all the answers. His mom was shot, his uncle disappeared, and a mentor from his school was brutally tortured and murdered. We were told to leave it alone lest we bring down attention on the boy. Bubbles also wanted it left alone. Bud started looking into it and was approached by high level supernatural…” She shrugged. “Stuff you don’t know yet, so let’s just say we don’t know and can’t find out.”

  She sat back and seemed to shake the energy of that time off. “We’re invited to Bud and Nickie’s for dinner this evenin’, and those two are kinkier than you probably want to know. Nickie’s a switch, which in this case means she’s submissive to Bud but needs to be Dominant to someone else. They have a houseboy who’s usually naked and has to do everything Nickie tells him to do. She puts this little cage on his tiny little cock so he can’t get hard. I’m used to it, but if I tell her I think you’re too young to deal, she’ll dress him like a butler. Up to you.”

  I shook my head. “I’m trying to keep everyone from seein’ me as a little kid. I know I’m short, but I’m a woman.”

  “You’re more a woman than most nineteen-year-olds, but you’re still a babe in the woods, darlin’. I’ll tell Nickie I think you’ll be fine.

  She ran a fingernail over the surface of the table. She had more to tell me and was hesitating. I was nervous as fuck in this room and trying to play it off, but she wasn’t helping. I don’t think she meant to set me on edge, but she did.

  “Bud and Duke want me to talk to you about your mom and her contacts.” She stopped fucking with the table and met my gaze. “Jiminy wants a meet with you. He went through Duke to set it, because the club claims you, but it’s clear Jiminy thinks your mother’s claim to you is stronger than the MC’s.”

  “Why isn’t Bubbles tellin’ me this?”

  “Good question. Keep that mindset and you’re gonna be fine. Bubbles isn’t telling you because Duke hasn’t told him yet. Duke needs a game plan ready to go when he brings Bubbles in, so we can give him something to do. You have to know how easily things could blow up if Bubbles decides to confront the wrong people while he’s tryin’ to keep you safe.”

  I nodded. The situation would go to shit in a hurry.

  When she didn’t say anything else, I sat back in my chair, trying to pretend I was chill. “I know Pebbles and Gen are friends, so I assumed I wouldn’t be asked to betray anyone in Mama’s organization. Just as I won’t disclose anything I’ve learned about the club, I’m not going to talk about my mama’s people, either.”

  She sighed. “The Switzerland tactic isn’t going to work.”

  “Yeah, it will.” She’d pissed me off, and I have no reason why that made me feel the need to talk like a Playa, but it did. “My mama and her bidness partner sell to the red and the blue in Chatt-town. She ain’t affiliated with no one ’cept herself. She get it from the cartel and break it down to sell however the order come in. You gotta give up at least fi’teen grand to buy from Jiminy, and ain’t many people up fo’ dat. Mamma and her man do, and she might sell a five G bundle they’ll repackage theyself, or she might prepare it for street sales and wholesale a batch to a team of dealers. They all buy from her, but I ain’t tellin’ you nuthin’ you don’t know.”

  She breathed in. Blew out. Scenting me. “Okay, so you can talk ghetto. What are you trying to prove, Lexi?”

  I met her gaze and didn’t look away. “That’s who I am. It’s how I grew up. I tried to tell you earlier — I might be able to pass for white, but it ain’t who I am on the inside. My whole life’s been a battle of how black I am or I’m not. Don’t try to make me prove I’m more white than black, ’cause I ain’t.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Us against them, in this case, has more to do with us keepin’ our people safe and nothin’ about color. We have workin’ girls here, just like your sister, and some months we spend a shit-ton of time escortin’ them to and from work to keep them safe. That ain’t a problem for your sister, but things are different down here.” She shook her head again, looked away, and looked back. “Territory fights are more intense here, and it’s constantly changing’. It is us against them, especially in Atlanta, and you’re going to have to choose where your loyalties lie.”

  “That’s easy — Bubbles gets my loyalty, but that don’t equal me ratting on my mama and her people.”

  “I hear the truth in your words, and I understand you believe what you say, but it isn’t going to be that easy.”

  I scooted my chair back, but her hands were on my arms before I could stand, and she was strong.

  “I’m not questioning your loyalty, I’m trying to prepare you for what’s coming. Bubbles may not have come out of my body, but I still consider him my son. Please don’t break his heart.”

  “Let go of me.”

  She did, and I stood. “Thanks for bringing this up. I didn’t know I needed to talk to him about it. Now I do. I’d like to go back aboveground now.”

  Her smile seemed genuine, but I was still on edge. “I see why he’s fallen in love with you. We have a shootin’ range down here if you want to play with some of our toys, or I can take you back upstairs. Your choice.”

  “Toys?”

  She grinned. “An AK, an FN, a shotgun that holds forty-one rounds. We have fun toys.”

  I shook my head. “How do ya’ll qualify as foster parents?”

  Her laugh filled the room. “We don’t officially own any weapons, and no one’s ever found our secret stash. The wall we went through takes us into rooms buried under the backyard. The blueprints for the house show all the public rooms without unused space.”

  I wanted to play with the shotgun but didn’t want to use up so much ammo.

  Somehow, she knew my thoughts. Again. “We reload our own shotgun shells, else we’d go broke practicin’ with the shotgun. Don’t worry ’bout the cost of ammo. If you want to shoot it, you should.”

  I did, and the adrenaline rush of popping off a shotgun so many times in a row, one after another, was exhilarating. I went through three full loads and had a blast, because their firing range has the little targets that pop up all over the place. It was serious fun.

  I’ve shot an FN before and I don’t care for them. The ammo is long and skinny, and was designed solely to penetrate armor. Also, the ammo is damned expensive. I saw Sparkie take note that it was the only gun she offered that I didn’t fire, but she didn’t ask why.

  On the way back upstairs a few hours later, she said, “You know your guns.”

  I didn’t respond. I’d just shown her I did. Finally, she came out and asked her question. “Does your mom handle the gun end of Jiminy’s sales, too? Or just the drugs?”

  I considered my answer, and waited until we were back in her kitchen with the sunlight streaming in before I responded. “I’ll talk to Bubbles about my mama, but I don’t think I want to talk about her to anyone else right now.”

  She seemed to analyze me, much as Bubbles sometimes does, for a good ten seconds. Finally, she said, “I hope that works out for you. I don’t think it will, but it’s a good starting point while you’re figuring out how to straddle this barbed wire fence you’re tryin’ to balance on.”

  I’d worn dark colors the night before, but today I was wearing light blue jeans with bling on the sides, a white belt low on my hips, a lavender shirt tucked in, and a pink and purple jacket over the top. When we made it to Bud and Nickie’s house, Nickie rubbed her hands on my jacket while she hugged me, and said, “Blossom fits you well, little Lexi. Come inside and get drunk with us.”

  I was glad Sparkie had prepared me for the naked man with a little cage on his dick, but I still couldn’t help but stare. When Nickie saw my interest, she made him come show me how the cock cage stayed on, and had him bend over and spread his cheeks so I could see how fat his butt plug was.

  The man spent
most of the time making sure we had hot cheese to dip chips and other goodies in, and that we didn’t run out of the tiny little burritos. He mixed margaritas and made sure no one had an empty glass without another right beside it, full and ready to drink — and he was so formal despite the fact he was naked.

  When Bubbles arrived hours later, I was far past drunk, but the other ol’ladies were too.

  Not surprisingly, he picked me up and sat in my spot, with me in his lap. “You’re drunk, Half-pint.”

  “I’m so far past drunk, I’m not sure you can call this drunk.”

  He looked around before focusing on me again. “Please tell me you shot the guns before you got drunk?”

  “OH! Have you ever shot a shotgun with a forty-one round chamber? O.M.G. It was so much fun!”

  He looked to Sparkie, who told him, “Dead sober while she shot. The drinkin’ happened later.”

  “Did you know Nickie writes kinky sex books?” I meant to whisper it, but it came out louder than I intended.

  He laughed, kissed my forehead, and looked to Nickie. “You been educatin’ my Half-pint?”

  “She wanted to watch me whip my boy, but then decided she needed your permission before she should watch. However, we convinced her watching a video of it was just like watchin’ porn, and she says you’ve never told her she can’t watch porn.”

  Bubbles

  * * *

  Lexi’s look was both innocent and scandalized, and I couldn’t help my laugh. I found her nipple through her shirt and bra, and squeezed hard enough to get her attention, but she was drunker than I realized so I squeezed a little harder and finally got the gasp I’d been looking for.

  “Watchin’s fine, but no touching. Ever.”

  “I didn’t!”

  I let go of her nipple and bopped her nose. “Good. You’re mine. I’m thinkin’ maybe you need to wear a plug the next time you come to Nickie’s though, just so you don’t forget.”

  The scent of her arousal blossomed around us and my dick started to fill. I closed my eyes and willed it to stay as it was, but it wasn’t gonna cooperate. I looked around, found Bud standing in the doorway, watching, and met his gaze.

  “Lexi and I are gonna take a walk through your little garden. We’ll be back.”

  He laughed. “First door on the right at the top of the steps — make yourself at home. I understand she’s a screamer, and we don’t need the neighbors to hear it in the backyard.”

  I stood with her still in my arms, walked up the steps, into the first door on the right, settled her on her feet where she could hold onto the bed for balance, pushed her jeans to mid-thigh, leaned her over the bed, and sank into her sweet, sweet, pussy from behind. She was drunk and horny, and foreplay would’ve just annoyed her, which was a good thing because I needed to be inside her.

  I pulled out, pushed in farther than I probably should’ve, and my drunk-as-fuck little Half-pint went off like fireworks, jerking and shuddering, screaming and begging. Her muscles contracted and rippled around my cock, squeezing me until I had to grab for control. My hips took over and I plowed the fuck out of her, and still, she screamed for more. I went fatter, and fatter, and fatter, until my front was slamming into her bottom, and her orgasm never faltered, but seemed to keep ramping her higher and higher.

  And I busted a nut in her in less than five minutes

  But I wanted to see what else I could get away with, so I sat on the bed, pulled her ass over my lap, gave her soft spanks, then harder, and harder, until she was begging for more — and then I fucked her again.

  32

  Lexi

  * * *

  The drive home wasn’t as nerve-wracking as the ride down had been. Bubbles took a back road, which he said was the old way between Chattanooga and Atlanta before the interstate was put in. We also stopped and ate about halfway through the trip, which helped break things up.

  However, he made me wear a damned butt plug, and I was horny as fuck by the time he got me home.

  He’d fucked my pussy again when he’d gotten me back to Texas and Sparkie’s house early that morning, and then again when we’d woke up around noon. There was no way I could handle even more sex that night, but fuck, I needed it.

  Bubbles went straight to the living room when we walked in the door, and I followed because something seemed up.

  And then stood with my mouth open, because there was a two foot by three foot picture of me on the damned wall. One of the shots Matty had taken of me blowing bubbles.

  “It doesn’t match anything in the house,” I told him. “It’s hideous. Please take it down.”

  “It’s like a breath of fresh air. Like a whatchamacallit of flowers. It’s perfect.” He turned and picked me up. “You’re perfect.” He held me on his hip, so we were both looking at it from the same vantage point.

  “It’s too much. It’s bigger than me! My head’s the size of a… fuck, I don’t know, but it’s too big.”

  “This is how I see you, Half-pint. Full of life, full of bright colors. I know there’s pain and baggage, but you don’t focus on it. You attack life, you enjoy the moment, and you’re far from innocent in so many ways, yet you still have your innocence.”

  “I think you’ve gotten rid of my last little bits of innocence, and what you didn’t, Nickie sure as fuck did.”

  He didn’t say anything, and I looked at the picture, trying to see what he saw, and it came into focus in a new way. I’d been laughing when Matty got this shot, and I could see what Bubbles meant. My smile, my eyes, my posture — I was focused on the fun of blowing bubbles, and nothing else had been going through my mind.

  “Matty made me forget he was taking pictures. I mean, I knew he was, but he had me focused on making different shapes of bubbles — a single big one, or a string of tiny ones. It was fun.”

  “He did a great job,” said Bubbles. “I chose the one I wanted to be big, and he blurred the background a little so you’d pop out more. He’s really good at this. I asked him to decide where in the house to hang it. I’m pleased with his choice.”

  “You seemed to know where to go to find it.”

  “Razor texted me to let me know, and to double-check I was giving his boy permission to nail holes in my wall wherever he thought they should go.” He resituated me so I was on his front, and his eyes bored into me. “You want to do homework now and get your little ass fucked later, or do you want the assfucking now, and homework later?”

  Damn, guess that took care of my pussy being so sore. I wanted him, and yet, I had to ask, “Are those the only options?”

  He laughed. “Your little pussy’s raw. Didn’t have lube handy enough to give it a rest this morning. I suppose we could do some deep throat trainin’, if you need another option.”

  “No! I’m good. I want you now, but I may not be in any shape for homework after, so I should do it first.”

  His smile told me he was pleased with my answer. “Good girl. You might even get a fun spankin’ later. I’ll unpack, you do homework.”

  Bubbles had explained there are two kinds of plugs. He said the kind most people wear long-term has a skinny neck and is really big on the inside, but it’s heavy, so you have to keep everything squeezed tight to hold it in. He said that kind actually makes your asshole muscles tighter, because you have to keep them squeezed so hard all the time.

  The kind he had in me is lightweight and the neck is super fat so it holds me open all the time, but it doesn’t stay in so good, which meant he put this harness thing around me to make sure it stayed put. The harness went into the crack of my ass, but before it got to my pussy, it split into two pieces so it went around my other hole, meaning Bubbles could fuck me when I was wearing the harness. He hadn’t yet, but I knew it would happen. Just his cock fills me full, and with a wide plug in my bottom, there really isn’t enough room inside me.

  I was so damned sore from him going so fat inside my pussy when I was drunk. It felt like he’d split me open, but I’d wanted it, a
t the time. Now, it hurt to pee, but I wasn’t complaining. I was glad he was going to give me a rest there, though.

  Twenty minutes into my homework, I was wiggling and horny, and I asked, “Can we take the plug out, please? I’m having a hard time concentrating.”

  “Then focus harder, Half-pint. You have to finish before you get that itch scratched.”

  I was pissed, at first. I even considered going to the bathroom and taking it out myself, but then it started working for me. He wanted me to learn self-discipline, and this was apparently part of it. I focused on my work a little harder, and managed to forget I was wearing it. Mostly.

  He brought me a salad while I worked, and refilled my water a few times, but otherwise left me alone.

  I finally finished, and he told me to sit still while he carried my stuff to the bedroom. I was sitting at the kitchen table, wondering what was going on, but he lined up six shot glasses in front of me when he returned, and filled them all with tequila. He put a lime on the table, sliced it, and settled the salt beside it.

  “You seemed to have the hang of this at Nickie’s, once ya’ll graduated past the margaritas. Do them all, Half-pint.”

  I looked at him in question, and he pulled my hair out of the bun and arranged it around my face. “Took your pussy the way it needs to be taken. It’s time for me to start workin’ on your ass. Probably won’t happen today, but once a week, you’re gonna get drunk for it, since you seem to be able to relax and take it better. Next goal is to take your pussy like that when you’re sober, but I’m good with gettin’ you drunk first.”