by B. M. Hardin
“Vegas, this is my sister Trina, Trina this is Vegas,” Shanay hurriedly said, grabbing the little girls hand and walked away.
~~~
It had been three weeks too long, and tonight I was going to have my way with him. To be honest, he was a tad bit more respectful than I wanted him to be. I wasn’t looking for my next love…not just yet anyway. But what I was looking for was my next, well you know the rest…and I was just being honest. He didn’t have to make love to me or take his time with me…I just wanted him to put it on me! Hopefully…
Vegas and I had talked every single day since meeting him at my sister’s salon. Of course he was awed by what he saw…but of course he would be. Hell, even I would date me.
We had spent time together a few times. With him being a single father and all, I had to get in wherever and whenever I could. But tonight would be the first time I went over to his place instead of him coming over to mine. Though we were going to be in his territory, nothing could save him from what I was going to do to him tonight. I was a woman on a mission…and I was prepared to seduce.
All and all, Vegas had been the perfect gentleman. Never said any slick remarks out of the way, never talked dirty though I desperately wanted him to. We had kissed a couple of times here and there but he never took the next step or even pressured sex…but boy did I want him to. I guessed I was so used to Carter’s aggressiveness, that I didn’t know what to do with someone so humble. But I had grown tired of his polite ass and tonight if he wouldn’t give it to me…I was simply going to take it.
“Hey,” Vegas greeted me at the door of his two-story home. Though his home was pretty decent in size, compared to mine, I felt like I was inside of an ant hole but it was decked out with all the latest and his stock broker salary definitely showed.
The night went by swiftly; smoothly. We talked, we laughed and by my fifth glass of wine, personally, I was tired of talking.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, though I didn’t really have to use it.
Vegas led me to his bedroom and then into the master bath. I was in admiration at actually how big and beautiful it was. It was nicely decorated and it smelled so fresh and clean. Closing the bathroom door behind me, immediately I began to undress. I had planned it all out. I was wearing a $500 Bordelle, black and red lingerie set, designed to make any man’s mouth water. For just a split second, the thought of rejection crossed my mind but I quickly washed away my worry at the sound of the light knock on the bathroom door.
“You okay in there?” Vegas asked softly, deeply. His voice sent chills down my spine, in between the crack of my ass and on down, and around to my throbbing clitoris. I took a deep breath and turned the knob.
“The question is---are you going to be okay?” I asked him playfully, giving him an eyeful of my goodness.
The next few minutes were a blur. Kissing, touching, moaning, groaning, the heat was all the way turned up and it was about to go down. I giggled as he kissed softly, timidly down my body. I was as excited as a felon was to be getting off of probation. My eyes were sealed shut and I could only imagine how big the smile was on my face. Vegas bathed my pussycat with fierce licks of his wet tongue. I cooed as he gave me the business with his mouth. He harassed my clitoris, taunting her time and time again. Once my moans had clearly given away my g-spot, he made it his mission to get me to the point of no return. I screamed out in pleasurable agony, as my body temperature began to rise and my legs began to shake. I could feel my most intimate juices, spilling out of my watering hole and into his mouth and on the covers underneath me. After a few more sucks and licks, I gripped the collar of his shirt and prepared myself for the inevitable. I screamed out every curse word in the dictionary as I released my creams of delight.
Struggling to catch my breath, I heard Vegas chuckle. But I knew in the back of my mind that I would have the last laugh. I was a dick sucking pro, in case you didn’t know, and he wasn’t nearly as prepared for what I was about to do to him.
As he stood up and I lifted up from my back…
Boom, Boom
Two gun shots and Vegas dropped to the floor.
Dead.
Chapter Two
Damn it...another nightmare.
It had been roughly a month since Vegas was murdered right in front of me by his wife and I still hadn’t fully recovered from it. I still couldn’t believe that it had happened. I was lucky to be alive that was for sure, but living with the guilt and shame seemed to be a lot worse. I mean no, I didn’t know he was married…but would it really have made a difference if I had. The sad part was that I truly and honestly couldn’t answer the question. No one seemed to respect marriages these days, hell no one had bothered to respect mine. Still yet, I couldn’t believe that his wife had actually killed him and then herself. My guess was that I wasn’t his first so-called affair but---she for damn sure made sure that I was his last. I could only imagine that there had been years of frustration built up inside of her until she had no other choice but to explode and unfortunately unload.
Now, that was a feeling that I could absolutely relate to.
Yet, the saddest part of the situation was that now their beautiful daughter would grow up without a mother or father; and that was something that no child deserved. Growing up without my father had done enough damage to me; so I could only imagine what growing up without either parent would do to her.
The situation and deaths for awhile consumed me. I had so many unanswered questions that unfortunately I would never get the answer to.
Where was she when he called me or came to visit me for hours? Whose house were we at that night? How had she known we were there? Why hadn’t she shot me?
That night, I was little to no help to the police officers and their hundred and one questions. Apparently, everything I had thought I knew about him had been one big fat lie. Hell, I had even learned that Vegas--- wasn’t even his real name.
I shook away the thoughts of the ordeal and decided to head out to the balcony for the cool, night breeze. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. in the morning. All was quiet and still and suddenly I was less tensed and more at peace; for a while anyway. Soon my mind began to wonder and I started to recall the good times that Carter and I once shared.
For some reason, images of the day before he left were clear and visible in my mind.
“Come here,” Carter had said to me. I was standing naked in front of the full length mirror in the corner of our bedroom. I ignored him and continued to eye my chocolate covered breasts. I was a big girl--in the making, and from the looks of it; Plus Size Avenue was right around the corner. I had already had breast implants and a tummy tuck but my thighs and hips were spreading like AIDS.
After sometime, Carter approached me slowly, until I could feel his warm body resting comfortably up against my back. He didn’t say a word; he simply wrapped his arms around my waist and stared at my reflection in the mirror. His eye contact was fierce, shameless, as though he was searching for answers that he just couldn’t seem to find. Silently, and in sync, our bodies began to sway slowly from side to side. I smiled at him and he smiled back. He was my husband, my lover and my best friend. There was nothing in the world that I wouldn’t have done for him. I would have never hurt him but unfortunately he hadn’t felt the same.
Facing him, he kissed me aggressively…just the way I liked it. Carter was a tall and skinny fellow. Light skinned and years older than I was. He was still as fine as the day he was when I had met him all those years ago. I was honored to be the wife that he had chosen, and I made sure that he knew it, which is why I just could not understand where we had gone wrong. Carter had seemed to love his pussy…especially that night.
I laid him on his back and straddled him quickly. After he had entered me fully and once his wood was comfortable at the bottom of my stomach, I began to move my hips, slowly at first, in a circular motion as if I was dancing to my favorite R&B song. His moans filled the air hastily; boosting up my ego, assuring me
that I was doing something just right. It had taken him all of three minutes to release himself inside of me. Secretly, I had hoped that this time would be the time that we actually had gotten pregnant. After ten years of marriage, I deserved to have his baby; but that was definitely out of the question now. Apparently, I wasn’t his type.
Ha, how funny is that? Every time I thought of it, it made me either mad as hell…or sick as hell to my stomach. The fact that my husband was pleasing another man and then coming home to please me was some straight bullshit….excuse my language, but it was. Immediately, I got upset with myself for even entertaining my thoughts of Carter. He was my past, and would never again be in my present and he didn’t have a chance in hell of being a part of my future. And that was just something I was going to have to live with.
~~~
“Reese, I have to find me something to do, a hobby or something…anything!” I whined. A total of five months on my own, and I was bored out of my mind. I had to find something to get my hands into. I didn’t have to work, my bank account said so, but there just had to be something that I could do. I had shopped more than most people could afford to do in their lifetime. Taking trips was no fun if no one could come with me, and since everyone else had jobs, men, and lives, vacationing at the moment wasn’t an option.
“Well, you’re welcome to come down here and do something if you would like,” Reese suggested, knowing I would decline.
Reese again, was the brains of the family; smart, witty, and charming to say the least. She was also the prettiest in my opinion. Though she was our same chocolate brown, her features seemed to have come from daddy’s side of the family. Though her skin showed no trace of our Mexican roots just like the rest of us, her hair and facial features sure did. She was truly breathtaking when she entered a room. She was actually my inspiration…well, except that fact that she was the head mistress, of one of the most respected and well known judges in Georgia; well in the South period.
What really got to me was that Reese didn’t seem to mind it. In a strange way, she preferred it. She said her own man would require more time and attention than she had to give. So, for the last few years, Judge Fitch had been her man and she was faithful to him…and so was he to her---well, other than when he was with his wife. The wife knew nothing of the affair and my sister never seemed to get in her way. Never once was she jealous when he was away with his family, never once did she complain. I on the other hand, had been complaining about it for years until finally, I learned to accept it. What he didn’t do for Reese, I did, but with her success so far with her new law firm, soon she wouldn’t need either one of our help. Hopefully, then she would decide that he no longer has a purpose in her life. But at least he wasn’t as bad as Shanay’s piece of a man. I won’t even get on that subject.
After hanging up with Reese, I decided to go visit mama’s grave.
Mama had been dead for all of five years now and oh how I missed her. She always knew just what to say and just what to do. I’ll never understand why God took her away from us so soon. Her and her husband had been coming home from a trip to the mountains when a truck driver fell asleep behind the wheel, forcing Mama and Jack, my step-daddy, over a cliff. They both died on impact. The damage had crushed her tiny body beyond belief. When we went to identify the body, the only thing that was recognizable was the tattoo of all of our names on her right arm. Instead of burying her back in Mississippi, we buried her here in Georgia beside her husband. With Mama gone, I willingly played her role especially for Shanay who was only seventeen at the time. Mama probably would have haunted me in my dreams if I hadn’t. Though Mama was a tiny lady she had one hell of a big mouth and was tough enough, hood-rattish enough to back it up. She had come up hard and rough, had always lived life on the edge and the fast life, hence was how she ended up with our Daddy. Anyway, long story short, Mama didn’t play no games. She was tough on us but she loved us. When Daddy left us, she made sure that we were okay and there wasn’t a thing in this world that she wouldn’t do for us. And once I married Carter, I returned the favor. I made sure that she knew how much I appreciated her. Even when she died I buried her in the best. She wore Louis Vuitton, and her casket was trimmed in diamonds.
Pulling up at the cemetery, I immediately became emotional. If Mama was here, she would have helped me move on with my life. After all, she had had to do it.
I grabbed the roses and headed to her grave. I smiled as I split the roses into two bundles, placing a small bundle on both Mama’s, and her husband’s graves. I thought about the last time I saw her. How she had said that for the first time she wouldn’t be with us on Christmas that year, since they would be in the mountains. I had bought her a brand spanking, new red Lexus that was waiting for her to arrive home back from her trip. She had always wanted one, but she never made it home to finally have the car of her dreams. And of course, Shanay drove it in her memory.
My thoughts were interrupted by chatter and giggling. I found it quite strange to hear laughter at a grave site. Looking up, I saw a woman, who was wearing the hell out of a Versace pantsuit and six inch pumps. She was holding a matching purse in one hand and the hand of a man who was dressed the complete opposite from her. Sort of like lady meets thug. They were talking rather closely and both of them were all smiles. I must have been staring a little too long because they both smiled at me and then turned to walk away.
Wait a minute…I’ve seen them before.
It wasn’t until I was almost home that I was able to place their faces with a location.
That night that Vegas, or whatever his real name was, was killed by his wife; I had to go down to the police station. She was there, exquisitely dressed that time as well because I remembered distinctively looking at her leopard print Prada bag. She announced herself as a bail bondsman, well woman rather, and the man that she was with was the man that they were setting free. I remembered looking at him from head to toe. He had drug dealer or thug written all over him and so did the twenty other sexy ass criminals behind the bars. I had eyed each and every one of them and I remembered almost becoming moist a time or two but the fright of my heart wouldn’t cooperate with the nastiness of my mind.
Suddenly, it hit me. I just found me a hobby…with a twist.
Chapter Three
Fall, Winter, Spring, had all come and gone and it was now Summer time again. I was already a license bonds-woman and I was ready to get everything up and running for myself. I had spent time working under someone, Dominique Phillips, the woman bondsman from the jail and the grave site, and she was ready to release me and let me fly solo. Just as I had assumed and come to find out, her very own bondsman business had a catch to it as well, she slept with a lot of her clients. But my idea was going to be fairly different.
I had had a number of bonds under her business, but I had yet to make any of them dirty. I had decided that I would try out my idea once I was on my own.
It had been over a year since Carter had divorced me and I was doing better than I expected. I had moved on with my life. I hadn’t heard from him, nor seen him. As he had promised he had left me the mansion, my cars and my millions, so for those million dollar reasons, I was appreciative and I would always be thankful that he didn’t leave me high and dry or take me through a nasty divorce. Since he was the one at fault; I guess he didn’t want to go that route.
Nevertheless, I was fine. Except for one thing…I had yet to have a piece of penis. I couldn’t believe that I had gone over a year without sex. It was definitely a first. There was a time when you could get dick when you couldn’t get a hot plate but for some reason that just wasn’t the case. I had come across a few, but before I could get them to my home and in my bed, they would find a way to turn me all the way off. And for some reason, I didn’t want the briefcase carrying, suit wearing business man, nope, that would be the man I marry, again, one of these days. But what I wanted right now was a baggy pants wearing, illegal pistol carrying, tattooed and wife beater wearing,
drug dealing, no commitment wanting, chocolate, big dick having ruff neck.
That’s right…this shorty wanted a thug. And I be damned if I wasn’t going to get me one. What better way to go about this than to be a bondsman? I didn’t need the money. Nope, wasn’t doing it for the money at all. I was doing it for the penis and I knew just how I was going to do it too.
~~~
“Lucky You Bail Bonds, how can I help you?” I answered hastily, hoping that it was a prospective new client.
“Yes, my name is Kenyata Wilson. I was calling to see if you could help me get my husband out of jail. You come highly recommended and I was hoping you could work with me. His bail is $100,000. I have half of the money that is needed. I was hoping that you could help us out and that we could come up with some kind of arrangement to pay you the rest,” the panicky wife finally paused and took a deep breath.
I rolled my eyes. Not at her request; but at the fact that she had a husband. I had everything…except a man. But that was neither here nor there.
“What’s his name, and which jail is he in? If he calls you back, give him a heads up and let him know I’ll be there soon to see what I could do,” I instructed her, sliding off of my California King Canopy bed, and slipping on my Gucci pumps.
“Devon Wilson, I’m Trina Jackson. Your wife called me about getting you out on bail,” I said to the coffee colored fellow sitting across the table in front of me. He was the perfect definition fine, tatted, black, young, fine, sexy, tasty, fine…and did I mention that the brotha’ was fine? I just had to make sure that that was clear.
Expectedly, I began to picture him naked, body dripping wet, wearing nothing but a towel. I was becoming so excited that I was finding it hard to keep my legs closed. Ms. Pussy was on fire and she just had to have him.
“Look, I know we don’t got all da’ money. But I’ll find a way to pay you back if you can come through for me. I ain’t a bad nigga, I just fucked around and got myself in a real fucked up situation. Wifey said we got half in the stash, just tell me what I gotta’ do,” Devon spoke the worse form of English I had ever heard. But still yet, it made me want him even more.
