by Teri Woods
She got the name Goldilocks because of her shoulder-length dreads that were sun-kissed to a golden brown. She and Angel had met in prison while Goldilocks was doing a stint for bank robbery. She was bisexual and had been gay way before she met Angel. She was not only Angel’s lover but her best friend, a first for Angel, who had always swung with men and rolled dolo.
Goldilocks had gotten out a few months before Angel and had been counting the days until they would be reunited. As soon as she saw Angel come through the door, she hurried to her, threw her arms around her neck, and tongue-kissed her like Angel was a soldier coming home from war.
“I missed you! Oh, my God! I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Goldilocks whispered, caressing Angel’s ear with her tongue.
People walking through the baggage area couldn’t help but stare at the two women locked in a passionate embrace. Even in San Francisco, passion that electric turned heads.
“Be easy, ma, before you start something we could be arrested for finishing.” Angel smirked, wet with anticipation.
Goldilocks took Angel’s hand and slid it inside her sweatpants down to her pussy. “It ain’t like we ain’t been there before,” she teased.
“Yeah, and it’s somewhere we ain’t goin’ no time soon,” Angel replied as she removed Goldi’s hand and smacked her on the ass with it. “Take me home.”
Once they arrived at Goldilocks’s apartment, the two girls wasted no time. Goldilocks stepped out of her sweatpants, revealing her firm, juicy ass to Angel’s lustful eyes. She began to do a striptease for Angel, removing her shirt and bra slowly. Her tits were the size of ripe grapefruits and had tiny red freckles around the nipples that Angel tickled with the tip of her pierced tongue.
“Damn, you got me so wet,” Goldilocks moaned, rubbing her clit then sticking her finger in Angel’s mouth so she could taste her sweet nectar. Angel undressed and stood over Goldilocks as she lay on the couch, spread-eagled. Angel then took Goldilocks’s legs and placed them over her shoulders before going down on her.
Goldilocks arched her back to meet Angel’s adventurous tongue that lapped greedily over her pulsating pussy, bringing her to a thunderous orgasm.
Then it was Goldi’s turn.
“I got a surprise for you, boo,” Goldilocks announced mischievously after Angel came in her mouth. She reached under the couch and produced a large nine-inch strap-on. She started to harness it around her waist, but Angel grabbed it from her.
“Nah, that’s my job,” Angel said, asserting her dominance and refusing to have a dick, fake or real, fuck her.
Angel strapped on the dildo and bent Goldilocks over the edge of the couch, plowing into her with the hard rubber as if it was real.
“Sssss-awwww,” Goldi gasped, sucking in air through clenched teeth. Angel slid deeper inside her tight hole with the nine-incher.
“Ohh, Angel, Angel, Angel!” Goldilocks repeated like a hook in her favorite song. It was definitely good to have her lover home.
After they showered, they ate Chinese takeout and lay naked on Goldi’s bed, basking in the glow of their reunion.
“If I told you I loved you, would you believe me?” Goldilocks asked, looking Angel in the eyes.
“Should I?” Angel countered.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Goldilocks replied solemnly. “You mean a lot to me, Angel. What we have, the world may not understand, but I do and I never want it to end.”
“Nothin’ last forever, ma,” Angel said, remembering all that she had lost in life.
“But it can last for life.”
Angel shrugged, “Love makes you do crazy things, G. And I don’t need crazy right now. I need DBD.”
“DBD?” Goldilocks questioned, not recognizing the term.
“Death before Dishonor.”
Angel eyed Goldilocks’s reaction. She knew Goldi didn’t have the heart of a killer, but if she was planning on rolling with Angel, she’d have to do something.
“Death before dishonor.” Goldilocks repeated the code like a bride saying “I do.”
She tried to kiss Angel, but Angel stopped her with an index finger to the lips. She traced the outline of her bottom lip and across her chin to the flesh of her throat.
“Everything I’m about goes against everything you’ve ever known,” Angel explained, sliding her index finger and thumb down Goldi’s gently heaving cleavage and circling her breasts. “And I gotta know. I gotta trust that the only thing that matters to you is me.”
Goldilocks closed her eyes and licked her lips, enjoying the soft sensuality of Angel’s touch.
“I gotta know that your body is mine.”
“It is, I swear.”
“Your mind,” Angel continued, caressing Goldi to her navel. “Will you kill for me?”
“Yes, I’ll do anything for you,” Goldilocks responded.
Angel brought her face closer until they were sharing air.
“Will you die for me?”
Goldilocks blinked and focused on Angel as her fingers slipped inside her wetness. Goldi nodded slowly.
“Anything.”
Angel smiled and kissed her.
“Then we need to go to church,” Angel announced.
First Street Baptist Church.
Angel struck a match with one manicured hand and sparked her cigarette. She concentrated on the reddish- orange flame before blowing it out. She inhaled deeply, threw her head back, and blew a stream of smoke into the cloudy morning sky. The Los Angeles streets were slick from rain the night before.
Angel looked at the face of the church that boasted the name “Reverend Qwan Taylor” on its marquee. It had been almost four years since Qwan testified against Dutch, and Angel had dreamed of making this trip ever since. She understood why Dutch had let Qwan live. Qwan had always been a coward. He wasn’t of the same caliber as the rest of the team. Angel had known it ever since she first laid eyes on him. He was a good car thief and an excellent driver, but that’s where his talents ended.
When the Month of Murder kicked into full swing, Angel saw how jittery and nervous he was. Qwan just wasn’t cut out for that shit, and Dutch knew it so he pardoned him. Angel understood Dutch’s motives perfectly, but she didn’t agree with them, not yet. Not until she had the chance to see for herself if Qwan had been truly vindicated.
Angel approached the front door, taking a long drag of her Newport before throwing it to the ground. She knocked on the door. No one answered. She knocked again louder, and still no answer. Angel tried the knob, but it was locked.
“Shit,” she cursed before stepping around the side of the building to the parking lot. The only vehicle in the lot was a sparkling new gray Lincoln Navigator parked near the rear door. She walked across the small parking lot and knocked on the back door. A few seconds passed before she heard footsteps behind the door. Angel took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the door opened. Qwan stood behind it.
Angel recognized him instantly even though he had gotten a little chubby and had grown a goatee. He was dressed tastefully in a blue double-breasted suit that was clearly tailored to fit.
Looks like God’s been looking out for a nigga, she thought sarcastically.
“Hello, Qwan. Long time no see, huh?”
Qwan looked puzzled for a minute. It had been almost fifteen years since he had seen Angel, and her blonde wig hid the jet-black hair he was used to. Qwan’s eyes quickly took in every curve that generously filled out the body-hugging silk dress she wore so well. Even Angel had to look twice at her own reflection. She couldn’t remember ever wearing a dress in her life, let alone a dress so clingy and revealing. How do broads wear this shit? she thought, hoping her breasts didn’t pop out of the front.
He looked at her face again and recognized her under the sexy outfit and wig.
“Angel?” he asked breathlessly.
“Who else?” She smiled, flinging her arms open. “Ain’t you got a hug for an old friend, Qwan?”
He hesitated but Angel didn’t. She enveloped him in a tight embrace, making sure to press her hot body against him, sending fire through his sanctified loins.
Angel stepped back slowly to allow Qwan a good look at her.
“How… where have you… I haven’t…”
His questions and comments stumbled over each other as he attempted to speak them all at once. Yet the main question he wanted to ask was what she was doing there.
“Now this is what I call a nice surprise,” he said, admiring her from head to toe.
“Well, I moved out here temporarily, and you was on my mind. So, here I am,” Angel replied.
“Come on in, Angel. Come on in,” Qwan invited, stepping aside to usher her inside.
Angel brushed her breasts against him purposely as she entered a small stairway that led to a plush office. The desk was black lacquer and the carpet was thick burgundy. A bookshelf took up three walls while the fourth held a large picture of a black Jesus and a golden crucifix. Under the picture was a long, beige leather couch.
Angel sat in the chair in front of the desk while Qwan perched on the edge of the desk.
“So… where did you move to?” Qwan inquired, hands clasped in his lap.
“San Francisco. I met a few chicks in the pen that had a nice racket going on in the Bay, so I said what the hell, you know?” Angel explained, only half lying.
“Yes, I heard about that. I’m sorry I didn’t write or anything, but with my duties here at the church… well, you know what they say, the Lord’s work is never done.”
“And from the looks of it, his workers get paid well. Is that your Navigator out there?”
Qwan cleared his throat nervously. “Yes. Well, I try to maintain a respectable persona. It’s important that the congregation see the blessing God gives the faithful.”
Angel nodded and looked around. An eerie pause played with the rhythm of the moment. Qwan broke the awkward silence.
“San Francisco’s kinda far, but I know a few good churches I can recommend if you’d like.”
Angel brushed blonde hair off her face. “You know me, Qwan. Ain’t much changed. I’m still the same ol’ Angel. Church is the last thing on my mind.”
“Well, God is the changer of hearts.”
“So I’ve heard,” she sighed, tired of the small talk. “Listen, Qwan, I think you know why I’m here.”
“I have some idea.”
“So why don’t we talk about it, then? Why did you do it, Qwan? We was a family, la familia. And family don’t turn on family for nothin’.”
Her eyes narrowed, but Qwan averted his gaze. He stood up and walked around the desk pensively. He sat down then and looked at Angel above tented hands.
“If I told you it was hard to do, Angel, I’d be lying. I don’t feel any remorse. Maybe that’s hard for you to understand but I pray I can make you. Do you remember the port?”
“Of course.”
Qwan leaned forward in his chair.
“When I went to prison for that year, I took a long hard look at my life. I saw myself starting a vicious cycle that could only end in one of two places. Prison again and again or the graveyard, and I didn’t want either. One night, I prayed. I prayed like never before and I asked God to show me the way, to guide me, and he did. He guided me to His Son, my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”
Angel got the feeling he had recited this speech before, probably to wayward youth, but she let the record play out.
“When I came home, it was like I forgot Him, forgot His Son, and I fell right back into Satan’s trap. Dutch. You may not like what I’m about to say, but Dutch was a devil. He was evil. I just didn’t know how evil until the night he and Chris murdered that girl’s father in cold blood. Cold blood, Angel. We walked right into his home and took his life. For what? Because Dutch wanted to send a message?”
Qwan dropped his head, mumbling something inaudible.
I hope it’s a prayer, Angel thought.
“You mean Simone’s father?”
Qwan nodded with watery eyes. In his mind, he relived the moment.
“After that, I tried to get out, but I couldn’t. I can’t tell you why, but Satan had me. I… I was scared that Dutch would kill me, so I stayed. I stayed and I watched people die at his hands. I spent the blood money. I luxuriated in it. Until one night, one night I had a dream.”
Qwan’s eyes glazed over and his voice boomed like he was giving a sermon.
“I dreamt I was standing on the brink of fire. All I could hear were screams, agonizing screams, and I smelled burnt flesh. I saw myself standing over the pit. Then someone called my name. I turned around and it was Dutch. He said my soul was wanted in hell, and then an unseen force flung me into the pit. I woke up sweating and crying and I knew then, even if he killed me, I had to get out. I had to,” Qwan said as he lowered his head.
Angel sat unmoved by Qwan’s story. She had no pity and no sympathy for what Qwan had done, no matter what he said. She stared at the top of his head until he raised it.
“But he didn’t kill you, did he, Qwan? He let you walk away clean,” Angel said, still not understanding why he had turned state and testified.
“But I couldn’t be clean, not as long as I carried the burden I carried, and the trial was my only chance to unload it.”
Qwan stood and walked around the desk.
“When the DA first contacted me to testify against Dutch, I said no. I didn’t want no part of it. But the more I thought, the more I knew it was my only chance to purge myself. How could a man of God refuse to denounce the devil to his face? How?” Qwan emphasized with his open palms.
“He wasn’t a devil, Qwan, and you know it! Your fuckin’ conscience just wants to make him your scapegoat! Dutch was your friend and you sold him out!” Angel spat.
“Friend? He was a conniving manipulator! A… a… deceiver and a cold-blooded murderer and a bastard who didn’t deserve to live! If you want to know the truth, I’m glad he’s dead! I’m glad to be rid of him. Friend! He was never my friend,” Qwan spewed before collapsing on the couch.
His spirit felt much lighter, having finally spoken his true feelings.
Angel didn’t speak for a moment, and when she did, she began calmly.
“Do you think I’m a devil too, Qwan?”
“God is the best of judges.”
“How about a friend? Are we still friends?”
Angel’s tone made Qwan open his eyes and look at her.
“I don’t have anything against you, Angel.”
“Liar.” She playfully giggled. “I think you do, Qwan, because, after all you said, you left out one thing.”
“What’s that?”
A smirk played on Angel’s lips. “I think you were jealous,” she stated simply.
Qwan eyed her incredulously. “Jealous of who, him?”
“It’s okay to say his name, honey. He’s gone, remember? Yes him. Dutch. You were jealous of my devotion to Dutch.”
Qwan quivered with laughter, shaking his head, “That’s absurd.”
“Is it? I remember when you first saw the BMW I saved for Dutch. The hate in your eyes, wondering why I didn’t save one for you, too.”
Qwan didn’t speak. He also remembered the BMW and the envy he had felt, wishing he had one as well.
“And I remember how you used to watch me when you thought I wasn’t looking. Do you remember that, Qwan?”
She was initiating the cat-and-mouse, a game she had mastered. Qwan looked at her curiously.
“I was young. We were young and of course I looked at you, you were pretty and…”
“Am I still?”
“Still what?”
“Pretty?” Angel asked provocatively, standing up and crossing the room to sit on the couch next to him. Qwan watched her, growing more nervous by the moment.
“Why does that matter now?” he asked, but Angel ignored the question.
“I remember how you used to be around me. I could tell you want
ed to say things then that you were afraid to say. Do you still want to say them?” Her tongue tickled the “th” in them, seductively.
Qwan stood up quickly, knees trembling. “That was a long time ago.”
“And I was a little girl then, but…” she said as she purposely uncrossed her legs so Qwan could see what was between them. “I’m a woman now, and I’m all alone in this cold world,” she said as she got up and moved closer to him.
“Wh… what are you doing?” Qwan asked, wide-eyed.
“Whatever you want me to.” She smiled as she caressed his face.
Qwan jerked away from her. “No! I… I don’t want you to do anything besides leave,” he retorted, attempting to sound firm, but his tremor gave him away.
“Really?” Angel giggled. “Your spirit is willing but your flesh is weak?” she remarked, referring to his tented trousers.
Qwan swallowed hard and adjusted his crotch. “Get out!” he yelled out of embarrassment that she could so easily arouse his weakness.
“Get out or… or…”
“Or what?” Angel taunted. “What will you do if I don’t?”
He stormed over to the door and threw it open with a bang. “I’ll throw you out myself!”
Angel groaned so sweetly it played up and down Qwan’s spine like a chill.
“We’ll see,” was all she replied as she slowly shook the spaghetti straps off her shoulders. Her dress fell to the floor, and she stood there, her pecan nakedness exposed to him.
Qwan gulped audibly. He feasted his eyes on her heavy, round breasts and tight stomach that vee’d to her shaved pussy.
“Now, how can you throw me out of a church like this?” Angel smiled.
“P-p-please, Angel, please put your clothes back on,” Qwan begged, trying to tear his eyes away from her thighs.
“You’ve waited fifteen years to see this. Well, here it is, baby, and it’s all yours.”
Angel took him by the hand.
