Contrasts

by Charles Arnold

  He glanced at the plastic bag containing the plugs and quickly looked away. “He sounded young,” he said. Ann ignored him. “He’ll be here in about a half hour.” Ann shot him an angry look and sat down at her makeup table. Paul cleared his throat, “Ah...um...I was wondering, Ann, about contraceptives. I don’t think he will...”

  She reached into the makeup kit and held up a plastic container. “Ninety days worth,” she said without turning around.

  “Did you...”

  “Yes, this morning. Do you think I’m stupid?” In the large makeup kit before her was an array of lipsticks, glosses, rouges, mascaras, and nail polishes. Her hand shook as she picked up a lipstick tube. She put it down and turned to Paul. “What else did he say?”

  “He wanted to know if we had any beer.”

  “Do we?”

  “Yes.” Paul looked at her then looked away. “He also said to tell you to wear what was in the box.” She nodded. “Before hanging up he said for you not to put that...that plug in. He wants to do it.”

  Ann started to stand then sat down again, “Oh my God!”

  “I’m sorry, Ann,” Paul said. “Deeply sorry.”

  She turned away from him. He went back to the kitchen and sat at the table cursing himself. It took Ann ten minutes to compose herself enough to apply the lipstick, gloss, and mascara. She brushed her hair, fastened the string of pearls around her neck, and buttoned the shear lingerie top before putting on the stilettos and fastening their straps around her ankles. She practiced walking in them. She was still unsteady but improving. She looked in the mirror startling herself. The image bore some resemblance to what she was used to seeing, but differed in ways that were so dramatic she began to blush. Her breasts were clearly visible under the transparent top. The hairless slit of her bare pussy looked prepubescent. The four inch heels were, she thought, obscene. Her oiled body seemed to glow in the soft light. The fullness of her lips was exaggerated by the bright red lipstick and the gloss that covered them. She was both astonished by and ashamed of the transformation.

  At nine o’clock Paul heard a car door slam and then the front door chimes. He recalled that his contract required him to defer to the black man and to welcome him to his home. He was to feel proud that a black man had chosen his wife. In his heart he knew he wanted to kill whoever was on the other side of that door. When he opened it he stepped back, speechless. It was a short skinny kid, maybe seventeen. The kid was wearing an oversized gray hooded sweatshirt, baggy black shorts that reached below his knees, worn sneakers, and no socks. He grinned at Paul, but his eyes were hard and calculating, as if he wasn’t sure that this guy would act the way he was supposed to. “I’m Darnell,” he said. “Darnell Tyman. Your wife had me suspended from school.”

  Still blocking the doorway, Paul assumed the kid was here to complain about the suspension, maybe to plead with Ann to reinstate him. “Yes, she told me. But I think the suspension is up. It’s been two weeks. You can go back to school on Monday.”

  “I fuckin know that,” Darnell glared up at Paul. “I’ll be there Monday right in the front row of your wife’s class and she’s gonna be lookin hot for me and she’s gonna do what I say.”

  “You’re not here to...to...”

  “I’m here to fuck your wife, asshole. Watts is my uncle. I been a NWS member for more than a year. Now, you gonna get out of the doorway and show me respect or what?”

  Ashen faced, Paul stepped aside and closed the door behind the boy. He led him into the living room. Darnell looked around then sat in the big overstuffed armchair. He gestured to Paul, “What you supposed to call me?”

  “Watts said I was to refer to all black men as ‘Master’.”

  “I don’t go for that Master shit. You can call me Sir or Mr. Tyman. Now, get me a beer. Don’t need no glass.” Visibly shaken Paul returned with a Budweiser. Darnell put it to his lips and drank. “Ahh, that’s better,” he said. He pointed to the tiny red light on one of the three video cameras. “Uncle Gordie told me he has the place covered.” He took another swig from the bottle and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He waved the bottle, “OK, you got me a beer. What else you got for me?” Paul knew what he was supposed to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Darnell, more certain of himself now, leaned forward, “Tell me what else you got for me.”

  Not looking at him, Paul said, “Mrs. Gardner.”

  “That your wife?” Paul nodded. “Then say it motherfucker, say it.”

  “My wife, Mrs. Gardner, is. is here for you.”

  “She gettin herself all pretty and smellin good for me?”

  “Yes...yes she is.”

  “She gonna get naked for me and lay down and spread her legs?”

  Paul felt his cock begin to swell. “Ahh, I...I...don’t...”

  Darnell glared at him, “Am I fuckin hearin you right?”

  “I...I...mean she will do what you tell her.”

  “Get her.” Paul went back down the hall and knocked lightly on their bedroom door. There was no answer so he opened it. Ann was sitting at her makeup table, her back to him. When she turned around he gasped and stepped back, “Oh Jesus, Ann!” he exclaimed, “You...you....look like...”

  “An expensive call girl,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at him. “He’s here?” It was a question.

  “Yes, in the living room.” She brushed by without looking at him. He followed her down the hall. When she saw Darnell grinning at her from the big chair next to the fireplace, she stopped and held onto the television stand, shaking her head, “No,” she whispered, “no...no...no.”

  Darnell stood, “Don’t be givin me that ‘no’ shit. You been told what you got to do.”

  She turned and ran back down the hall and slammed the bedroom door. Darnell pointed to the cameras, “That’s gonna cost her, Paulie. Uncle Gordie gonna be pissed. If she ain’t out here in three minutes, showing proper respect, and doin what she’s supposed to do both of you gonna be doin hard time and there be some brothers in Long Island bangin on grandpa’s door.”

  Paul went back to the bedroom. Ann was sitting on the side of the bed sobbing, her face between her hands. He sat beside her and tried to put an arm around her but she shrugged it off. After a few moments she stopped crying. He said, “Ann, honey, I can’t imagine how horrible this is for you, but Watts is serious. We’re facing prison and your grandfather and grandmother could be seriously hurt, maybe worse.” She closed her eyes and nodded. Then she went back to the makeup table to clean off the mascara that had run and reapply it and the lipstick and gloss. Unsteadily she walked back to the living room with Paul following. She stood in the entryway. Darnell, still in the big chair scowled and crooked a finger at her. She crossed to stand before him. “What you got to say?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry.....Master.”

  “Like I told your dumbass husband, I don’t go for the Master stuff. You can call me Sir or Mr. Tyman.” He thought for a moment a slight smile crossing his lips, “When I was little, before my mother ran off, she would call me honey. I liked that. You can call me honey.”

  She felt her cheeks burning, “Uh...thank you....honey.”

  “That’s better. Did my Uncle teach you about the position?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Well?” he pointed to the floor between his spread legs. Ann got to her knees and putting her hands behind her neck, arched her back thrusting her breasts up toward him. He smiled, “I knowed you had a fine body under all them old lady clothes. I knowed you had pretty titties.” He leaned forward and began to unfasten the buttons on her half nightie. She watched almost hypnotized as his long black fingers fumbled with the buttons gradually parting the material, then reaching in to cup her breasts. Her nipples hardened immediately and she felt a rush of heat course through her body. She wanted to push him away, but kept her fingers locked behind her neck. He squeezed her breasts and gently twisted her nipples. “I bet you never thought Darnell Tyman would be playing with you
r tits, did you, Mrs. Gardner?”

  She shook her head, “No...no...I didn’t.’

  “You like me to play with your tits?”

  “No...no, I don’t.”

  “But I can feel your tits any time I want, ain’t that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about a better answer and call me by the name we agreed on and look up at me.”

  She lifted her head. His face was mocking her. “Yes....uh...honey, you can feel my…my breasts whenever you wish.”

  He finished unfastening the buttons and sat back to appraise her. “Ahh, I’m sure gonna do that and lots of other stuff. In another month you gonna be wantin my hands on your tits and my cock in your cunt. Ain’t that right?”

  “No,” she said softly, “no....never.”

  He frowned. “We’ll see, bitch. We’ll see.” He took her arms and pulled her closer so that still on her knees, she was pressed against his crotch. Through his jeans she could feel his hard cock. “You remember what Uncle Gordie said about how you supposed to greet me?” She nodded.

  “Well all I got since I come here is a feelin I ain’t welcome.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Taking her hands from behind her head, she placed them on his shoulders and lifted up to press her parted lips against his. She expected to be revolted by his kiss, but she found his lips to be soft and warm. Paul had tried once to French kiss her but she’d kept her mouth tightly closed. The sensation of Darnell’s tongue inside her mouth was something entirely new and strangely exciting. She felt a tingling in her stomach. When the kiss ended, she put both arms on his thighs and bowed her head, her breath coming quickly. He looked across at Paul and smiled. They both knew. When Ann looked up again, he said, “You like that?” After a moment, she nodded. He sat back observing her. “You wear that see-through top for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You keep forgettin. Yes what?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  “You put that lipstick on and that perfume and them pearls just for me?”

  “Yes, honey.” Saying the words, calling him ‘honey’ brought the color to her cheeks and the tingling sensation to her crotch.

  “Take the position.” Ann moved back and once more clasped her hands behind her neck. He brushed his fingers over her stiff nipples. “You gonna do what I tell you to do?”

  “I will. Yes, honey. I’ll do what you tell me.”

  “Take off my sneakers and my shorts.”

  She inched back, “Oh...I...”

  “Do I have to say it again?”

  She bent down to unlace his worn sneakers and pull them off. His feet were dirty. Reaching up she unbuttoned his shorts and started to pull them down. When his cock emerged it was long and stiff. The circumcised head looked up at her. She drew back away from it. He laughed. “It ain’t gonna bite you.” The scent of his crotch was both fetid and at the same time sensual, virile, unlike anything she had ever smelled before. He pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He was thin but sinewy, his stomach muscles well defined, his waist narrow, his thin legs like black sticks. “You want to fuck me here in front of your husband or in your bedroom where we can be alone?” He took her hand and placed it on his engorged prick. “Yeah, that’s right. Hold it.” Her hand tightened around his shaft. “So, what’s it to be, here on the couch or on your bed?”

  “The bed,” she said.

  “Say again.”

  “I’m sorry. You can...can take me on the bed in the bedroom.”

  “What’s this take me shit?”

  “You can...” She paused and looked away. She’d never said the word before. She started again. “In the bedroom, honey. You....you....can fuck me in the bedroom.”

  “You gonna do me good?”

  “I...I...don’t know.” He tilted her head up so she had to look at him. ‘My God’ she thought, ‘he’s a student in my class, a cocky young thug’. “Yes,” she said, “yes, honey, I’ll try.”

  The length of Darnell’s cock surprised Paul. It was half again as long as his own. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Ann’s tiny hand gripping the boy’s black cock. His own hard cock pushed against his trousers. And Ann, almost naked, kneeling at this boy’s filthy feet and looking up at him and calling him ‘honey’. It was disgusting.

  Darnell stood, lifting Ann up with him. He grinned at Paul gesturing toward the couch, “You stay out here, Paulie. Don’t leave this room. Don’t go to sleep in case I want a beer or somethin. Got that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Taking Ann’s hand he started down the hall. Over his shoulder he called back, “You can jerk yourself off while I’m fuckin your wife.” Paul watched the naked black boy and his half naked wife pause at the bedroom door. Ann opened it, stepped aside, then followed the black boy in, and closed it quietly behind her.

  Paul listened carefully for sounds, but since the bedroom was some distance from the living room, he heard none. He thought about listening right outside the bedroom door, but was afraid Darnell might check to see where he was. After an hour of imagining what they were doing, he did hear Ann cry out. He wondered if the boy had given her an orgasm. Only twice during their marriage did she say that he’d given her one. He didn’t believe her. She faked it in order to please him. He remembered the anal plug. Maybe Ann cried out because Darnell shoved it in. He didn’t want to imagine a black cock probing Ann’s tiny asshole. He poured himself a straight Scotch and drank it quickly, then poured another. His cock throbbed in his pants. He pulled it out and with two strokes shot his load all over the couch. He stuffed his cock back inside his trousers. Within ten minutes it was hard again. Images of the black boy’s long dick sliding in and out of his wife filled his mind. He was dead tired and dozed for awhile. When he woke, he looked at his watch. They had gone into the bedroom around nine-thirty. It was now eleven.

  A few minutes after midnight Darnell shouted to him from the bedroom, “Hey, Paulie, bring my clothes and a cold beer.”

  He gathered up the boy’s hooded sweat shirt, shorts, and sneakers. He took a Budweiser from the refrigerator and opened the bedroom door. The skinny boy sat on the edge of the bed, his long black cock dangling between his parted legs. At first Paul couldn’t see Ann. She had turned her back toward the door and pulled the sheet over her. Only the curly mop of her black hair showed above the sheet. The room smelled heavily of sex and sweat. Paul handed Darnell the beer and placed the clothes and sneakers on the bed beside him. Darnell smiled, “I see you gettin the right message,” he said. Still looking at Paul he reached behind him. His hand disappeared under the sheet. Ann moved and made a small noise as his fingers toyed with her nipple. “Your pretty wife got a lot to learn. She’s slow at doin what she’s told. She don’t seem to like suckin cock. She ever suck your cock?”

  Paul’s face reddened, “No, she never did.”

  “Well, I started to give her lessons, so she should know how, but she don’t get into it, know what I’m sayin?” Paul didn’t answer. Darnell pulled on his shorts and shoved his feet into the worn sneakers. “She did better fuckin. At first she just laid there like a dead woman, but by the third fuck she was gettin into it, wasn’t you, babe?” He pinched Ann’s nipple. She said nothing. “I asked you a fucking question,” Darnell dug his fingernails into her nipple.

  “Aggg!” she cried, “Yes...yes, honey. I began to....to...I mean you began to make me....make me respond.”

  Darnell laughed, “She means I made her cum.” His hand moved to her other breast. “How many times did you cum?”

  “I...I’m not...sure....two...I think I came two times.”

  “You like that. You like cummin two times?” He turned around and rolled her over so she had to look at them. Paul saw that all of the makeup was gone and her lips were swollen. She seemed exhausted. She avoided looking at Paul. Darnell was pulling his sweatshirt over his head. When it was on he looked down at her, “I asked if you liked fucki
n me, if you liked cummin two times?”

  “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes both...the orgasms and....and ....doing it with you.”

  Darnell laughed out loud shaking his head at Paul, “It’s almost harder for your wife to say ‘fuck’ than it is for her to do it, to fuck.” He paused then added, “I said ‘almost’.” He had finished his beer and motioned to Paul. “Let’s go to the kitchen. You can get me some coffee while Mrs. Gardner here gets herself all prettied up to say goodbye to her honey.”

  Darnell sat at the kitchen table while Paul made the coffee. “Yeah, that wife of yours got a lot to learn, but I think after a couple weeks she gonna be ok. Don’t seem like she done much fuckin.” Paul didn’t respond. “That right? You and her do much fuckin?”

  “Well, no. She didn’t.....I mean she was always......always shy.”

  “Yeah, that ain’t bad. For her to be shy. Gonna make it all the better when she cuts loose. Know what I mean?”

  Paul filled a cup with the coffee and placed it in front of Darnell. “You want cream?”

  “Nah, black is good.” He sipped it. “Speakin of cream, your wife’s got plenty of it.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, my fuckin cream. It’s runnin out of her pussy.” Paul wanted to crack his skull with the coffee pot, but he also felt his cock start to stiffen again.

  Ann wearing a dark red satin robe stood in the entrance to the kitchen. She’d washed her face and reapplied the bright red lipstick and gloss. Her feet were bare.

  Darnell put down his cup to look at her. “You make your lips all red and wet for Darnell?”

  “Yes....Darnell.”

  He glanced at her bare feet. “You got to learn that the brothers like their bitches to wear fuck-me shoes. Don’t want them walkin around like some farm girl.”