by Tiana Laveen
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. We can talk about that tomorrow, too.” Once outside the glass doors, Saint input the security code. When he was done, he turned and paused.
“What’s wrong?” Lawrence looked around the parking lot, only seeing his car and Saint’s.
“Something’s not right, man.” He sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. He felt them darken to black. Lawrence’s eyes went wide. “You smell that?”
Lawrence sniffed the air. “No, I am not getting anything.”
True, they were only a few blocks away from Sin City, a popular strip club that drew the attention of celebrities who wished to get a little more than a lap dance. Strange odors of residual gun smoke, reefer, and piss hung around all the time.
“What’s wrong?”
The only one with a stronger nose than Saint was Cruz, so Saint knew Lawrence trusted his senses.
“It’s here … something is here, man. It’s hiding though. I can’t see it. Let’s go.” Saint walked briskly to his car and Lawrence did the same, but they kept their eye on one another. Popping his black Escalade door open, Lawrence tossed his bag inside and slid into the driver’s seat and stopped in his tracks. He glanced over at Saint, then back at their headquarters. Saint was now staring at it, too…
Saint casually slid a cigar out of a shiny silver case, lit it, and leaned back against his car door. The dark shadow, seeming bigger than life, crawled towards them. Saint swallowed in pure disgust, the stench now overpowering. Slamming his door closed, Lawrence stood outside of his vehicle.
“I want you to go over to the right. I will stay to the left. We’re going to pull,” Saint stated telepathically.
“How can we pull a shadow, Saint? This demon has no arms or legs because it has no human host, no human form at all.”
“This way is actually easier, trust me on this. Just follow my lead…” Saint tossed his cigar down and snuffed it with the bottom of his shoe. Swinging open his car door, he slid fast into the driver’s seat and turned on the stereo. Out poured “God is Trying to Tell You Something” from the Color Purple soundtrack. Saint stood still, closed his eyes, and placed his hands together as the choir screamed, “My soul says yes” in stereo. Saint began to bob his head and dance in his seat, a big, bright smile on his face. A purple haze swayed around his form.
“SPEAK, LORD! SPEAK TO ME!” he sang out with the lyrics. He caught Lawrence shooting out a concerned look back at the mass that drew closer and closer, growing in size. Saint suddenly stopped, cocked his head to the side and lunged with inhuman speed at the beast. Lawrence did the same, rushing to the right just as Saint had instructed. They both screamed, “MAYBE! GOD IS! TRYING! TO TELL YOU SOMETHIN’!”
“You have the nerve to come to my job! Brazen! You came, and now you’re going! The creator is definitely tryna tell you somethin’, mothafucka, and I’m just the one to help Him do it!” Saint ran his fist through the demon, causing the thing to burst in a bloodcurdling scream. Lawrence’s breaths turned shallow when Saint communicated all his pent up rage….
The thing’s bellow almost knocked Lawrence off his feet, but he stayed steady, keeping to the right, pulling at a formless corpus. He visibly struggled to keep the thing steady as Saint worked it over. Like a mass of mosquitoes, the thing flew outward then fell to pieces, giving Saint a stinging sensation. He kept going though, his arms moving like strikes of lightning against the thing, his groans booming and melding seamlessly with the blaring music…
Lawrence kept struggling, fast losing his breath…
And then, at last, he understood.
Pride, the damn ego. They both struggled with it, dealt with it in a daily battle. Being the man that he was, Saint had to beat himself into submission. Those fists were flying as much into himself as they were into the familiar beast. All mankind, especially men who built themselves up and danced with arrogance, stood on their alpha status like a status symbol, struggling on a regular basis with such a demon. This one had come at the wrong time, for Saint had already made peace with this struggle. The fight was easy for him.
“You can’t! Stay! Here!” Saint breathlessly pummeled the thing as it shrank, getting smaller and smaller until there was nothing left but a puff of black smoke. The music played on, repeating the haunting lyrics flowing with the mood. Lawrence stared at Saint’s bloodied and bruised knuckles, looking as if he’d been fighting a brick wall. The man huffed, cursed under his breath, and then marched angrily towards his car. He placed a new cigar to his lips, snapped his fingers to light it and rested in the driver’s seat of his Lexus, one foot still on the concrete.
“You did well.” Lawrence said, crossing his arms over his chest. After a few moments, he made his way back to his own car. “That was rather unexpected.”
“Nah, not really.” Spirals of bright yellow, lime green, and vibrant red smoke eddied from Saint’s mouth and nostrils. “I knew it was coming. Xenia had just talked to me about my pride, how she was sick of it and I needed to get it in check. That was the Creator trying to warn me, sending me a message and telling me something. This pride I have is a curse. It ain’t going nowhere.” He grimaced. “I have an ego, and it’s huge. It’s part of who I am. It’s a struggle, but I have to keep that shit out of my marriage is all, at least to the best of my ability.”
“It came in the form of a shadow and got bigger, and bigger, and bigger… Wait until we tell Cruz about this.” Lawrence waved at Saint, asking him for a cigar. Getting his message, he removed another from its case and held it up high. Lawrence concentrated on it until he forced it to drift from Saint’s hand to his, covering several feet of ground. Once he had it, he lit it and sighed with relief as his adrenaline finally kicked down a notch. “It’s easy to fight something you can see. This was like the negative film of a ghost.” Lawrence blew out dark blue smoke from his mouth.
“It didn’t have a host, because it’s in all of us. We’re the damn host, man. It was just a reflection of ourselves.”
And with that, Saint slammed his car door shut, the gospel music still blaring, and sped off into the darkness…
My ego is involved even in my favorite activity with my wife—making love to her. I have to be in control. I have to be the one giving the most pleasure. It’s just what I do. It’s defined me for so long, being a good lover was paramount to my existence, tied directly into my confidence, and I believe it always will be. But tonight, it’s all about her and what she’s going to do to me. I will be helpless, something for her to play with, something for her to enjoy without interruption and pour all of her energy into. I am the most unselfish lover on this planet, and to take away my ability to please, to give, throws me for a loop. But I’m going to do it because I just fought a prideful demon, and my energy is spent. Time to refuel…
Saint took a deep breath as he rested upon the silky white sheets. He glanced down at his chest, noting the glistening of the oils that his Queen had dribbled upon his flesh and massaged all over his torso and shoulders. The only clothing on his body was a pair of black boxer briefs that his baby had bought him. They featured a long, red tongue sticking out over the cock. On a swallow, he lifted his head and glared up at the domed ceiling. He smiled as it reminded him of the church he’d been in not too long ago.
Xenia lingered in the bathroom, doing Lord knows what, but his arms were tied to the bed and she was answering no questions.
Marques Houston serenaded “Naked” over the speakers. Though he could free himself if he so chose, he let her have her way and promised himself he would not take over, destined to make her cum by allowing her the keys to his hard ride. A part of him hated this predicament so badly, but another part of him was curious, wondering just what she had up her sleeve…
The cherry and myrrh incense burned, the black and red candles flickered, and the sweetness of her perfume enveloped the room. The bathroom door opened. Steam danced behind her form. The lotion with specks of glitter over her dark caramel body ma
de her appear almost angelic. She wore a loose, thigh length sheer white robe that flapped open, exposing her full breasts, the dark, rich nipples already hard. He stared at the plump tits, almost able to feel their heaviness in the palm of his hands, and anticipated drawing each one into his mouth, worshipping her the way he often did. His eyes wandered lower and landed on her stomach and the trace of black silken hair that crept over her feminine mound. Flexing his toes, he contemplated breaking free and having her all to himself, but as soon as the thought jumped in his mind and spun into a notion, he shoved it aside. The black shadow within him would have to retire, at least for the evening…
She sauntered out of the bathroom towards him, a twisted smile wrapped in a glossy red lipstick. Her hair was piled high in a sloppy, kinky bun, with little wispy curls framing her face. A blonde streak fell on one side of her mane, a little experimentation she’d done that he found to be super dope. Diamond stud earrings sparkled in her lobes. Standing at the foot of the bed, she rocked her hips back and forth to the music. The platinum and diamond belly chain he’d bought her a couple of years back was wrapped around her waist, sparkling each time she popped and locked her body, beckoning him. Gasping at the mere sway of her thighs, he instinctually pumped his midriff, matching her movements and tempo. They swayed to the music, watching each other like hawks, fucking one another with a mere thought. The robe slid off her shoulders and dropped to the floor, giving him a full view of her flesh buffet.
“Saint … tsk, tsk, tsk.” She waved her finger in his direction. All he could do was offer a half smile.
“What?” he asked sheepishly.
“You undressed me… We both know you did it, took my housecoat right off.” She winked in his direction before turning around, holding herself and rocking back and forth, shaking her ass left and right to the beat.
“Shit. Yeah, shake that ass for me, baby… Mmmm!” He sucked his lower lip, loathing that his arms were bound, his fingers unable to reach out and touch the lady of his dreams. Spinning around, she crawled up the bed towards him until he was properly straddled. Tink’s “I Like” played as the woman oscillated above him, dropped low, and ran her pretty pink pussy over his throbbing dick. His sword struggled under the satiny material of his underwear, tenting it. He longed to be sheathed by her pussy once and for all, so he pumped his hips at each pass, hoping to bump the head against her clit, get a rise out of his baby—but she made it difficult, moving too fast for him to get more than a couple of good strokes in at a time.
“Take my draws off baby, damn! Come on,” he said in frustration.
The little vixen shook her head. Her breasts fell against his knees as she swooped low and ran her hot mouth over his twitching cock, licking and prodding at the material that obscured his need. He sighed and groaned when the softness of her body took him under.
“Come on, baby … don’t do this to me.” He gritted his teeth as she ran the tip of her tongue over his balls in slow motion, tracing the rounded lines of his nuts until she engulfed one in her mouth through the fabric of his underwear, drawing a frustrated moan from between his lips. With clenched eyes, he rode the surf, his back arched as he rode the exasperating wave, his dick hardening impossibly further as each second passed. She touched him all over with her pretty black painted, stiletto fingernails, traced up and down his legs, then up to his navel. Climbing his body, she jammed her tongue into his belly button, playing with the black hair that trailed below it before blessing him with a kiss to the groin.
“When you gone let me fuck?” he asked groggily. But she ignored him and kept on teasing the hell out of him. “I ordered the pussy platter but my shit is still in the kitchen. It was supposed to come with a side of ass and two big titties. Where’s my food, Xenia? Better yet, let me speak to your manager.”
“You like it … admit it, Saint. You like me taking over for a change, making you beg.” Yuna’s “Crush”, featuring Usher, began to play.
“I do, baby … I do. But you’re driving me crazy. Put me out of my misery and land that pussy smack dab on my face. Come on, Xenia. Let me taste that kitty.” His mouth filled with saliva as his stomach growled.
“Beg for it.”
“I just did.” His brow rose in surprise at her utterance.
“No, you didn’t… Try again.” The woman jumped off the bed, pulled the nightstand drawer open and pulled out one of their whips, which she normally kept in the red room. His eyes grew wide when she marched back to the bed, straddled his waist, and regarded him with a look of stern disappointment, as if justice needed to be served. “Now, beg me to put my pussy on your face, or is your pride too big to allow it?”
“Woman, that pussy is mine, all right? I own it! I ain’t gotta beg for shit! You’re lucky I let you get this far and I’m tired of playin’ this little game. You know my energy is low. I need this! Now I told you to put that goddamn pussy on my face! This isn’t—”
“Shut up!”
“AHHHH!” He winced and hissed when the whip cracked against his flesh, and his body tensed, struggling against the sheets as if he’d been set aflame. The whip had landed across his wet chest and stung like an open wound doused in rubbing alcohol. “STOP!”
“Now, let’s try again. Beg for it.”
“Xenia.” He swallowed hard as his eyes rolled in agony. “I swear … to God, when I get up out of these damn scarves around my wrists, you are gonna regret the day that you were … Ahhhh!” He pumped his legs back and forth, heels digging into the covers as he practically breathed fire. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes from the shock of it all. “SON OF UH BITCH!!!”
Oh my God … she has lost it!
The woman’s lower lip trembled with laughter as she struggled to keep a straight face.
“Awww, did it burn, baby? Regret what, Saint?! Keep threatening me, you hear? You aren’t in control, Mr. Pride! You told me I would have complete power tonight, but you just can’t do it, can you?” She cackled. “It takes a strong man to submit to his woman, Saint—alpha or not.”
“So, you’re saying I’m weak?” He grinned.
“Weaker than a noddle being pulled in both directions, mothafucka.”
At that, he burst out laughing and snatched himself free from the restraints with a hard, vicious yank. Xenia screamed in horror when his eyes glowed bright green, and she scrambled to try to escape from the bed when the scarves swayed in the air like kites in shades of blue, gold, and purple. He lunged for the fleeing prey, catching her hard around her waist, and finally hooked her, knocking the wind out of her. He yanked her back towards him like a human boomerang.
“Oh, so now you wanna, leave, huh? You didn’t give me what I paid for. You didn’t get the manager like I asked you to, and now you want to skirt your responsibilities.”
“I am the manager, bastard, and you’re crazy!”
“I don’t give a fuck who you are baby, because I’m not leaving this establishment empty-handed, and trust and believe, you’re getting this tip … tip and shaft of my motherfuckin’ dick. Wait till I leave my review on Trip Advisor. This place sucks!”
“Saint, let go of me!” she squealed, kicking and thrashing in his grip. It was cute, and kind of tickled.
“Oh, so you are in a hurry now? You weren’t in a hurry when you were beatin’ me like my name was Toby!”
“Toby is a good name,” Xenia mocked, then burst out laughing as she kept kicking her legs and clawing at the air to retreat.
“You’re too beautiful to be so evil. You just gonna whip a mothafucka and laugh it off, huh? There’s consequences for your actions. Repercussions, baby. I told you that I would let you tie me up, not beat me to death like some savage!”
“You’re the savage!”
“Exactly! So don’t try to be me. Stay in your damn lane!” He tossed her on her stomach, and her screams soon stopped when he shoved a pillow below her chin, yanked her thighs open, and jammed his tongue deep inside her. He squeezed her ass cheeks as if they wer
e double rolls of Charmin. Xenia dragged her nails along the sheets and moaned. The bed shook and vibrated as she struggled against him. Saint kept her pinned down with the greatest of ease as he ate her from behind, devouring her with sloppy, hard, wet licks and sucks, punishing her fleshy, soft, feminine zone with pleasure. “You’re going to pay for that shit!” he said between feverish tastes of his meal.
“You just couldn’t stand it, had to be in control! I’m disappointed in you, Saint.” He knew she didn’t mean it. She knew damn well what would happen if she pushed him too far. Nevertheless, the warrior within her still struggled with him. She fought to maintain her placement on the bed as he manhandled her, having his damn way.
“Be disappointed in yourself for forcing me to do this to you. All bets are off.”
“Oh, so I made you be a bedroom bully, bust out of the scarves you agreed to wear, drag me across the bed like some brute and then shove your long, fat tongue in my pussy? Shit!”
He could sense her orgasm near.
“Yes, you did. You know what buttons to push. And besides, everybody has their cross to bear.” She moaned low and sweet as he slid his thumb into her ass. “So close … can’t you feel it? On the edge…” He worked faster between her thighs, tasting her sweetness and wolfing down all that she served. “Now, you beg me for it, baby. That’s the only way you’ll get what you need from me tonight.”
“No…” she cooed. “You need it as much as I do. I won’t do it.” Sitting up on his knees, he petted her ass, leaving her dripping wet pussy all alone. She shot him a death glare from over her shoulder.
“Now, let’s try again. Beg.”
“No.”
“What was that? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘No.’” She giggled. “Ever heard the word before?”
“Oh, I’ve heard it before, sweetie … but only directed at otha mothafuckas. I’ll make you beg, baby. Make you beg me to death.”
