Life Without Hope

by Leo Sullivan

  dead ass broke. For the past few hours the women had been act-

  ing real freaky. It was tormenting me to watch them feel on each

  other and occasionally kiss. My dick was hard as the concrete stairs

  of the swimming pool. Somehow watching them was like viewing

  an exotic X rated movie, only they were not naked, yet. At least

  that was what I was hoping.

  Somehow, even in my semi-drunken stupor, I managed to

  keep my wits. I knew that good liquor makes for loose lips, but I

  had to spin my web in order for me to kick my game. I kept on

  talking, and they enjoyed my spiel rewarding me with laughter.

  The good thing about being a preacher’s son is, if needed, I could

  drop the street lingo and talk intelligent. I learned that in private

  school and in Sunday School also. I gave them some lame-ass story

  about how I was a Florida State student that flunked out of school.

  They ate it up. For some reason it got quiet and for the first time,

  I ran out of words. They began to whisper. I heard Evette say, “Ask

  him.” Tomica gave me the once over like she really was not sure of

  what she wanted to say, or just how to say it, a look that said if she

  could peek inside my soul to see could I be trusted, she would. I

  just acted nonchalant to their whispers. A lone pigeon landed on

  the walkway a few feet away from us. It was dark outside except

  105

  L i f e

  for the pool lights. The bird scurried around either lost or late as

  hell, trying to get home. Somehow I could relate to him. He

  ambled over to a folding chair and watched us.

  “Leonard … Leonard!” Tomica called to me. My mind was

  elsewhere. I turned to her. She watched me intently before she

  spoke, “Evette and I have a proposition for you.”

  I leaned forward, craning my neck, damn near falling out of

  the chair. Evette erupted in laughter. Tomica just made a face that

  said she thought I was stupid.

  “Proposition?” I repeated scratching my head. They were

  watching me like hawks. My mind was full speed ahead, two beau-

  tiful women and a proposition? I placed both of my hands on my

  lap to hide my thoughts. Not to mention, that hairy-ass bulge

  between Tomica’s legs was driving me crazy. Lesbianism is about as

  erogenous as sex can get to a man’s mind. Like a feminine utopia.

  “Follow us to our room,” Tomica said, with eyes lidded with a

  promise of sweetness. She stood turning her back to me. Her

  thong was missing somewhere in the mounds of her butt cheeks.

  As she helped Evette up, I watched her ass dance for me. How

  much torture can one man take by a twosome of scantly dressed

  lesbians in heat? I could see Evette through the gap between

  Tomica’s legs. She was watching me closely.

  I played it off, acted naïve. Evette ate it up. I didn’t know what

  these two females had in store for me, but the excitement was

  mounting, like reading a good suspense novel.

  The pigeon watched. The waiter, turned janitor, swept the

  deck of the swimming pool within inches of him. The women

  were whispering in conspiratorial tones as they walked into the

  lobby. I followed, enjoying the view from the back. For the first

  time I noticed the tiny mole on Tomica’s butt as she wrapped a

  towel around her waist. Up ahead at the elevator door, a family of

  white people were watching us as we approached. They looked

  like the Brady Bunch on vacation. I could tell they were not used

  to being around Black folks. Tomica and Evette were still talking

  in low tones. I whistled absent-mindedly as I looked around like I

  106

  L i f e

  was fascinated with the décor of the hotel lobby. I was just trying

  to blend in and not establish eye contact with the white folks that

  were gawking at me. I was conscious that I was not wearing a shirt,

  it was wrapped around my head. I was drunk and horny. A little

  white girl was staring at me. She was no more than 12 years old.

  She was looking right at my crotch. I had an erection somewhere

  close to my knee.

  The elevator door dinged open. We entered. The little girl was

  still leering at me. Tomica and Evette positioned themselves on

  both sides of the pudgy looking white man. He had rosy cheeks

  with a pleasant cherub face, with thinning hair on his shiny dome

  with a few strings of graying hair combed over the front, the way

  men do when they’re going bald and refuse to let it go. Just as the

  elevator door slowed to a stop, Evette turned and flung her arms

  around the white man, kissing and jabbering lunatically.

  “Thank ya sir! Thank ya sir! Thank ya sir for freeing the

  slaves.”

  Kiss, kiss

  …

  I watched in shock, mouth agape, but the old white dude

  looked to me like he might have been enjoying himself. His wife

  was furious as the rest of his family just looked on bemused,

  except for the little girl that had been watching me. She placed her

  hand over her face and giggled. Tomica wrestled Evette off the

  man and rushed out of the door as soon as they opened. Shoving

  Evette, she stopped and gestured with her hand, pointing her fin-

  ger at her head indicating that Evette was crazy. “Excuse her sir,

  she’s on medication.” The white man just blushed like it wasn’t

  every day he was mauled by a beautiful sista.

  Even if that had not been my stop when that door opened, I

  was fully intent on getting off that elevator; them two broads were

  acting strange.

  I entered their large plush hotel room. It looked like a large

  warehouse, it was stocked full of ever ything. You name it, they had

  it. Everything from fur coats to twenty-two inch rims. Wide

  screen televisions and clothes, clothes, clothes were everywhere

  from wall to wall. I looked around in awe trying to figure out how

  107

  L i f e

  two women could have so much shit. Then it dawned on me, they

  were boosters. Professional thieves. It wasn’t uncommon in the

  hood for women to hustle to earn a good living off of stealing

  clothes and things.

  Evette removed a wallet from underneath the towel she was

  wearing. It became clear that these broads were clever, a lot clev-

  erer than I thought. While Evette acted as the decoy, Tomica

  relieved the mark of his wallet. I feigned like I did not know what

  was going on.

  Tomica counted out money. I folded my arms across my chest.

  The room was cold. They had the air conditioner turned up sky

  high. Evette must have sensed my discomfort because she walked

  over to the air conditioner and turned it down.

  “Chang! Chang!” Tomica said jovially, holding a fist full of

  bills in her hand. “Seven hundred dollars, from a fat square.” The

  women exchanged high fives and kissed lightly on the lips. Tomica

  winked slyly at Evette. She thought I did not notice.

  “Go fix our nice friend here a drink,” Tomica said to Evette.

  The plot was about to thicken, I could tell by the way the two

  looked at each other t
hey were up to something devious.

  I remarked dumbly, “Ya’ll sure like to do a lot of shopping.” I

  made my words slur like I was drunk. Evette rolled her eyes as she

  moved toward me gracefully, wide hips swaying. She walked like

  maybe she could have been a model at one time. As she passed me

  the drink she never took her eyes off me.

  “Have a seat.”

  I looked around and shrugged my shoulders. There was no

  place for me to sit, and I couldn’t even find a spot on the floor.

  The place was packed with merchandise. My mind was now cal-

  culating numbers, figures in my head. I watched as Evette took the

  clothes off the love seat. Surreptitiously, I peered down her

  bathing suit at her breasts. They looked firm like she had never

  given birth. I wondered how old she was. Twenty-five at best, I fig-

  ured. Evette was the silent one, but her voluptuous body spoke a

  language, the kind that communicated with a man in ways that

  108

  L i f e

  her mouth would never be able to. Some women were like that.

  Bodies that exuded more than charm, they asked questions, but

  only if a man took the time to listen to the signs.

  My mind wondered again,

  how could two women possibly get off

  on bumping and grinding pussies on each other?

  In a way I felt some-

  what agitated by it, like a man couldn’t satisfy them. Hopefully I

  would be able to change all that.

  Undulating, Evette sauntered by. I bit down on my lower lip

  as I touched myself. Lord these women were killing me softly.

  There’s an alluring scent that women omit that no man can

  accurately describe, I’ll just say that it is sweet like nectar. The

  room seemed to permeate of it, making it hard for me to keep my

  composure. Inside my body, I felt wild and untamed, lewd

  thoughts rushed my brain.

  From across the room I watched as Tomica meticulously went

  through the wallet as if she were looking for something in partic-

  ular.

  “Is ever ything there?” Evette asked.

  “Yep,” Tomica responded, the scowl on her pretty face tense

  with concentration.

  In the mark’s wallet was a Visa, MasterCard and various other

  credit cards and IDs. The items were neatly placed on the bed. As

  they worked, I watched wondering what the hell they were doing.

  Occasionally I would pour my drink into the carpet, fake like I

  was sipping something.

  Poised, Tomica held the phone, sighed, took a deep breath and

  for the first time I noticed a large diamond ring on her pinky fin-

  ger as it sparkled. Her fingernails were long and manicured. From

  just holding the phone she looked like one of them classy broads.

  “You ready?” Tomica asked Evette. Evette nodded her head up

  and down, her expression intense like she was giving Tomica her

  undivided attention. Tomica dialed the number on the back of the

  Visa. I sat up in my seat tr ying to peek game. I could sense some-

  thing was going on, but what?

  “Hello! My name is Mrs. Luwinzky. My husband and I have

  109

  L i f e

  been robbed of all our cash and credit cards.” Tomica sounded just

  like a distraught white woman, panicky voice and all on the verge

  of hysteria. I looked on, astonished as these sistas put down their

  hustle.

  “Oooh, thank you! Thank you!” Tomica lamented dramatical-

  ly.

  “You can refund us with cash, and replacement credit cards?

  You want my husband’s social security number?” Tomica said

  loud, as she pointed at the items on the bed. Desperately the two

  women went scrambling looking for the information. It was a

  sight to behold. They found it. Tomica recited it like she had been

  doing it all her natural life. This went on for a minute as the two

  worked in sync with each other. Finally, Tomica flashed the

  thumbs up sign as she smiled brightly. Shit, I took a sip from my

  drink, and watched as these two gorgeous women perfected their

  scheme.

  “Yes, we’re going to need ten thousand in travelers checks and

  a new ATM account number so that we can withdraw money,”

  she added. As Tomica talked, Evette jotted down the information.

  I thought to myself, with a feeling of inferiority, here I was risking

  death running around robbing niggas and selling dope and these

  women were getting paid in full like pimpstresses from the plush

  confines of a hotel room.

  They did the same thing with the other credit cards, this time

  more practiced like a well-rehearsed script. I felt like a lame for

  real now. Never sleep on the conniving intelligence of a Black

  woman. They entered the hustling arena and changed the game.

  In my mind I was doing figures trying to count their money. The

  numbers were large.

  Once they were finished, their room became electrified with

  their hyperactive energy, laughter and giddy playfulness.

  Tomica pranced right up to me, her silky black hair cascading

  down her ebony brown thighs. She placed her hand on her hip,

  her body shifting a gear, coochie in my face, and looking down at

  me, she said as a matter of factly, “Evette and I met in the joint.”

  110

  L i f e

  I could tell she waited for a surprise that never came from my

  expression, and then it occurred to me that I was supposed to be

  playing dumb, so I dropped my face into a no shit scowl. Evette

  erupted in laughter. Tomica just continued to look at me as if I

  was a peasant and was about to give me a command. “She’s from

  California, I’m from the South Bronx.” The moment stilled as she

  considered her next statement carefully.

  “Like we were saying earlier, we have a proposition for ya.”

  Now we’re finally getting somewhere,

  I thought. The liquor kept

  telling me to reach out and grab that fat pussy, so I did, well, kind

  of. I reached out boldly and caressed those silky black hairs

  between her thighs like it was a kitten. Halfway expecting her to

  purr for me, she just stood stoically still, giving me a look that

  said,

  look at this lame

  . She casually turned her head and looked at

  Evette. They exchanged a kind of communication that I would

  never know.

  “You ever been with two women before?” Tomica’s voice was

  that of a temptress, sultry like she could set me on fire with her

  breath. So much lust. Her tongue slowly licked at the rim of her

  top lip. I could hardly control myself. My hand eased up her

  thigh. She moaned softly and inhaled deeply like she just stepped

  into some cold water. My finger roamed, like an escaped convict

  from an asylum, until I found the soft moist opening of her pussy

  lips. Evette peeked our move and disrobed down to bare nudity.

  Hell, if I were a woman I would have been attracted to her, too.

  Her body was audaciously voluptuous; small waist and full breasts

  and free of blemishes. The beauty of them both seemed to radiate

  throughout the room. The small bush bet
ween her legs was man-

  icured into a heart like an exclamation mark flaunting her beauty.

  “If oh … you … you …” Tomica stammered, as I moved my

  fingers around inside of her, stirring her juices as cum dripped and

  coated my fingers.

  “… we … we … we’ll pay you $500 … damn that feels …”

  she still couldn’t gain her composure.

  With my free hand, I unzipped my pants, took out my dick

  111

  L i f e

  and stroked it like it was my most prized possession. I began to

  ease Tomica’s bathing suit off, inch by inch, like it was the most

  delicate fabric in the world. I was getting ready to do some serious

  fucking.

  Click! Click!

  Out of nowhere, Tomica came up with a pair of

  handcuffs, handcuffing my wrists to the wooden arm on the love

  seat. My stupor brought on by the alcohol made my reaction too

  slow, I was more dr unk than I thought.

  Pixilated, Tomica grinned at me as she walked backward. The

  rabbit had out-smarted the fox.

  “Sorr y, we don’t do threesomes honey, besides you could

  stretch a girl outta place wit dat big ole dick.” Together they

  laughed. Their cackle sounded like taunting to me. I was pissed!

  “You are in for a surprise though,” Evette chimed in. Her voice

  was hoarse; it ringed with feminine mischief. I made a futile

  attempt to get out of the handcuffs.

  “What the fuck is dis?” I screeched. My words fell on deaf ears

  as I watched the two of them walk up to each other and embraced,

  kissing passionately like they were sharing oxygen to save each

  other’s life. They got into the bed. Tomica positioned her head

  between Evette’s legs. She licked pussy like she was giving me a les-

  son in vaginal stimulation. If I was jealous before, I was now irate.

  Evette was moaning and groaning like Tomica knew a trick or two

  with her tongue. I hate to admit this but it’s true. Women know

  how to please each other orally better than a man could ever know.

  They went at it feverishly. I looked on, listening to all their moans

  and sighs of fervored lovemaking. There was something so erotic

  and sensuous about watching two women getting it on, as if they

  were in a zone no man could enter. Together, their bodies entan-