Contrasts

by Charles Arnold

  “I...I...just meant...” He gave up and turning away from the table, finished his wine.

  Ann took her time eating. When she was done, she stood and started toward the bedroom. “I’m tired,” she said. “I need a good night’s sleep.”

  “Watts left a message,” Paul said.

  “Oh no!” She spun around to face him. “Where is it?”

  “He...ah...he told me to deliver it.”

  She glared at him, “Well?”

  “Uh...he said someone from the society...”

  She cut him off, “What society are we talking about, Paul? The cure cancer society? The society for the prevention of cruelty to animals? The society to preserve the national parks?” Her voice rose almost to an angry shout, “Just what damn society are you talking about, Paul? Say it!”

  “The....the Negro Worship Society”.

  “Oh, that one! Well what about it. What does someone from the Negro Worship Society want with me?”

  “Watts said a member...a member of the society is coming here tonight, around seven.”

  She took a step back into the room, “Goddamn it, Paul, I’ve been through enough today with that boy.” Paul stood by the sink and looked down at the floor. She stamped her foot, “Is that all Watts said?”

  “He said to remind you that the contract....that in signing the contract we both agreed to do whatever the....the black man tells us to do.”

  “Is that all he said?”

  “He said you should wear something sexy and....and that whoever is coming will probably stay most of the night.”

  She glared at him, “Damn you, Paul!” she said, then hurried down the hall to her bedroom.

  At five minutes before seven Paul heard a car in the driveway. He looked out of the living room window and felt his heart sink. It was a battered white van. After a moment Ray Evans climbed out. Then, he was banging on the door. He grinned down at Paul when Paul opened it. “Well if it ain’t Mr. Big fuckin shot, Paul!” he shouted. They stood there facing each other. “Well, ain’t you gonna invite me in?”

  Paul nodded, “Ah...yes...yes.” He stepped back.

  Evans didn’t move, “Yes, what, Paulie?”

  Paul felt his face redden, “Yes, sir.”

  “You can do better than that, Paulie.”

  Paul looked down at his shoes, “Yes, Master,” he said.

  Evans strode into the living room and sat in one of the two big overstuffed wing chairs. “Get me a beer, Paulie,” he said. When Paul handed him a Budweiser and a glass, he waved the glass away and looked up at Paul, “What else you got for me?”

  Paul felt the color come to his face again. He thought if he had a gun he’d get it and shoot this big bully. He said nothing.

  “I’m waitin,” Evans said.

  “Ann,” Paul said.

  “Who is Ann?”

  “My....my....wife.”

  Evans grinned, “But you hate me. You fired me, remember? The other morning you gave me the finger.” He paused. “Now you’re sayin that you’re gonna give me that hot little wife of yours?”

  Paul hesitated then nodded, “Yes,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, what Paulie?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “How about ‘Yes, Master Evans, I’m gonna give you my pretty wife. She’ll suck your big black cock and she’ll take you into our bedroom and let you fuck her. How about sayin that, Paulie?”

  Evans was a big man and no doubt could kill Paul with his bare hands and then there was the contract. All he had to do was say some words, but poor Ann, she had to give herself to this brute. Not looking at Evans, he repeated, “Yes, Master Evans, I’m going to give you my pretty wife. She’ll suck...suck your big black cock and...and take you to our bedroom and let you fuck her.”

  Evans waved the beer bottle at him, “Go get her, Paulie.”

  Paul knocked lightly on the bedroom door before entering. He took a step back when he saw Ann. She was wearing the dark red satin robe she’d worn after the night with Darnell. Her smooth white skin shown with a sheen of oil. Her hair was pulled back and held with a clip. Her eyes were dark with mascara and her lips bright red. On her tiny feet were a pair of strappy four inch heels. She was naked under the robe.

  “He’s here,” Paul said.

  “I know. There’s a bad smell in the air,” she said looking into the mirror of her dressing table. Then she turned to look at him the tears welling up in her eyes, “Oh Paul,” she cried, “I’m scared. I’m always scared. The things I have done...the things I’ll have to do...they are the worst....the worst kind of sins. And these men are cruel. They hate women especially white women.” She wiped her eyes and reapplied the mascara where it had run. “I’m beginning to understand what the female slaves had to endure,” she said. After a moment she looked at Paul, “What’s he like?”

  “He’s big. You may have seen him. He’s one of my former mechanics.” He paused before going on, “I fired him a couple months ago. His name is Ray Evans.”

  “You fired him.”

  “Yes. He’s an alcoholic. He often wouldn’t show up. His work was poor.”

  “Now he’ll be wanting revenge. Guess who he’ll take his anger out on?”

  Paul said nothing. He stepped back as she brushed by him and went down the hall to face Ray Evans.

  Evans was sprawled out in the big chair. He wore a soiled sweatshirt with “Jets” printed across the front, torn dirty jeans, worn black boots and a Yankees’ baseball cap.

  His round face looked up at her, unsmiling, but she saw something in his eyes; anger or desire she couldn’t tell which. Like most black men, his lips were thick, his mouth wide.

  He filled the chair, his belly swelling out above his belt. From across the room she could smell his rank body odor. She stood in the entrance, waiting.

  He continued to stare at her, occasionally swigging the beer but never taking his eyes off her. It was several moments before he spoke. “I remember seein you when you come to the garage,” he said. “You dressed like some dumb country girl, but I knew you was hot under them stupid fuckin clothes, so did most of the guys. We could tell.”

  To avoid looking at him, she bowed her head. He reached down to put his hand on his crotch and felt his cock beginning to swell. “Watts say you gonna do what I tell you. Is that true?” She nodded. “Speak up, bitch!”

  “Yes, I...I’ll do what you say.”

  “Watts tell me you know the position?”

  “Yes, I know it.”

  He parted his legs. “Well?”

  She felt sick in the pit of her stomach. She crossed to kneel before him. With her head still bowed she placed her hands behind her neck.

  He reached forward and undid the belt holding her robe together. “Lift your head up. Push your tits out.” Her robe had fallen open. She tried not to look at him, but he was leaning toward her, his face just inches from hers. “Nice tits,” he said. “You want me to squeeze them?” She didn’t respond. “I asked you a fuckin question,” he said.

  “Yes,”

  “That ain’t no kind of answer. Watts also said you been told how to respect the black man.”

  “Yes, Master. Feel my breasts.”

  He cupped her breasts with both rough calloused hands. Her nipples stiffened immediately. “Ahh,” he chuckled, “they pop right out. You gettin hot?”

  The electric sinking sensation had by now become familiar. She knew she was starting to moisten. “Yes, I am becoming aroused.”

  He burst out laughing, “Aroused....that’s a fuckin honky fancy word. I don’t want to hear fuckin aroused!’

  “I’m, as you say, getting hot.”

  “Yeah, that’s better. Bitches got to talk like bitches. Where’s old Paulie?”

  “I guess he’s still in the bedroom.”

  He sat back in his chair and unbuckled his belt and his fly, but didn’t take out his cock. “Hey, Paulie!” he yelled, “come in here and watch your pretty little wife kiss my pric
k.” When Paul appeared in the entryway, Evans waved him to the couch which was just opposite his chair. “Sit down, Paulie, but don’t jerk off. You can do that later when me and your wife are in the bedroom.” He leaned back, looking at her. “We are goin to your bedroom, ain’t we?”

  “Yes....I mean yes, Master.”

  “How long we gonna stay?”

  “I have to go to work in the morning, but we can...can stay together in the bedroom as long as you wish.”

  He nodded at Paul, “You hear that, Paulie? Your wife says I can fuck her all night if I want to. What do you think of that?”

  Paul gripped the edge of the couch cushion till his knuckles whitened. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s in the contract. She certainly doesn’t want to. She’s doing it because she has to.”

  Evans jaw tightened. “Not a very respectful answer, shithead.” He reached forward and twisted Ann’s nipples viciously causing her to cry out and try to pull away.

  Paul started to rise, but fell back, “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s....it’s obvious that Ann is...that you have excited her....made her hot. I’m sure she wants to...to...have you stay with her as long as it...as long as it pleases you.”

  Evans grinned at him then looked down at Ann, “That right, bitch?” He put his hand inside his jeans. “You want what I got for you here?”

  “Yes, yes...I do.”

  He pulled his cock out. It was as long as Darnell’s and thicker and circumcised. Instead of sticking straight out or curving up, it curved to the side. His cockhead was a dark shade of purple, his huge ball sack hung below a nest of black curly pubic hair. Ann tried not to look at his cock, but found compelled to. “How bad do you want it?” he sneered.

  She noticed a small drop of pre-cum in the slit of his pee hole. She looked up at him,

  “Bad. I want it real bad.” She knew that was the answer he expected.

  “Get in here closer and kiss it,” he said. She inched forward and leaned down. “Lick the tip. Lick that cum from the tip,” he said.

  His scent was strong, like the others. It repelled her, but at the same time she felt drawn to it and breathed deeply imagining the musky smell of him entering her lungs and being a part of her. She lowered her head staring at the bubble of pre-cum which had become larger. She parted her lips and licked it up and swallowed. Then she pressed her lips to his pee hole. “Stay there,” he said. He looked over at Paul, “She’s tongue kissin the end of my prick,” he said. “Your wife’s hot little tongue is doin what it’s

  supposed to do.” He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him. “You ever do like that to Paulie’s little white prick?” She shook her head. “Speak up,” he said.

  “No, I didn’t. Not ever.”

  “Feel my balls.” She reached down and cupped his ball sack. “Them balls is filled with a black man’s cum. I’m gonna shoot it in your mouth and later shoot more in your white cunt. How you like that?” Instead of answering, she bent down and continuing to look up at him opened her mouth wide and took his cockhead into it. He placed a hand on her head, “Yeah, baby, that’s the way. Rona and her boyfriend taught you good.” After a moment he pushed her head back. Her lips were wet with saliva. “I think it’s time we go to your bed,” he said. “You want to let Paulie watch or you want us to be alone?”

  “Alone,” she said.

  “Watts said you got to work in the morning so I got to leave by one o’clock, but I guess that’s time enough for a blow job and a couple of fucks. You ass fuckin yet?”

  “No...it’s not....not...”

  “That’s ok. I’ll fuck your mouth instead.” He leaned back and stuck out both of his legs. “Pull off my boots,” he said. While she unlaced his boots he looked over at Paul.

  “I bet you never thought there’d be a day when your hot young wife would be kneelin at my feet and takin off my boots.” He laughed. “By the way, Paulie, I have my old job back and so does them two drivers you fired, Cory Jefferson and Ned Warren. Watts got us some new contracts right away so business is pickin up. John’s doin a better job than you ever done.” When Ann had pulled off his second boot she turned her head away from the foul smell. One of his big toes poked through a hole in this dirty sock. He wiggled it. “Hey, baby, I got to get me some new socks. What do you think?” He tucked his semi hard prick back in his jeans and stood. Ann still knelt before him. He jerked his head indicating that she should stand. Even in the spike heels the top of her head came only to his chin. He stepped back appraising her. “Take off the robe,” he said. Facing him, she bowed her head and let the robe fall from her shoulders. He nodded. “You know, Paulie, you got a fine lookin woman here. She got a warm sweet mouth and I’m guessin her pussy’s wet.” He reached out and tilted Ann’s face up so that she had to look at him. “Is it?” he asked. “Is your pussy all juiced up for my cock?”

  “Yes.....yes it is.”

  “Well, let’s go then.” He put his arm around her bare waist. Paul watched them walk down the hall, his naked wife and the big black man whose hand had slid down to fondle her ass. They went into the bedroom. He heard the door close and then the lock click.

  Journal Entry

  I’m sitting here in the living room again while some goddamn black guy is in our bedroom with my wife. My cock is hard as stone, but I don’t want to jerk it. The guy is that fucking Ray Evans, the mechanic I fired a couple weeks ago. He’s big and mean. I had to sit here and watch poor Ann who was wearing only a thin robe and heels, kneel in front of that bastard and kiss the end of his prick. He made her take off his filthy boots and then he made her take off her robe and stand in front of him naked. He said he intended to fuck her mouth and her pussy. It killed me to watch them go down the hall. It was like he owned her. She was naked and his arm was around her then just before they reached the bedroom door he started to feel her bare ass. Jesus, I’m sitting here imagining what they’re doing. It’s my bedroom and my wife. I have to jerk off. It’s killing me.

  At one o’clock Paul was awakened by someone roughly shaking his shoulder. Ray Evans grinned down at him. “Poor motherfucker, Paulie,” he said. “Your wife sure know how to give head and she loves suckin black cock. I could tell. She keeps lookin up like she wants to know if she’s pleasin you.” He crossed to where his boots were and started pulling them on. “And she can fuck. I mean she lifts her white ass up like a bitch dog in heat. And when I’m on top she lifts her head up so she can see my black prick goin into her cunt.” Smiling, he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna get me more of that pretty white wife of yours.” Paul sat on the couch until he heard the door close and Evans’ van drive away.

  After several moments he went down the hall. He tapped on the bedroom door. There was no answer. Hesitantly he pushed it open. Ann lay naked on the bed, face down, her head buried in the pillow. Her legs were parted. He noticed her slit was oozing cum and that there was a large wet spot on the sheet. He felt his cock begin to swell again. “Is...is there anything I can get you?” he asked tentatively.

  “Get me a gun so I can shoot you and that black bastard and then myself,” she rasped. She turned around to face him. Her face was tear streaked, her lips swollen. “Do you know what it is to be mouth fucked? Do you know what it’s like to have a big black penis being forcefully shoved in and out of your mouth, making you gag and almost vomit? Do you know what it is to be made to swallow huge amounts of thick cum? Of course you don’t, but I do. And I know what it’s like to have that same big cock plunging in and out of me for hours. Every time he came in me I’d have to make him hard with my mouth so he could cum in me again.” She pulled the sheet up over her and turned on her side away from him. “But he made me cum too, Paul. I came three times with him. You never once made me cum.”

  Before she fell asleep her cell phone buzzed. It was Rona, “Watts say for you to put the medium size plug in your asshole tomorrow morning and to dress sexy for school.” There was a pause and Ann could hear Rona saying, “All
right...all right...I’ll tell her.” Then Rona got back on the phone. “That was my boyfriend, Danny. You remember Danny, right?”

  Ann felt her nipples stiffen and her stomach tingle. “Yes...yes I remember him.”

  “Well, Danny say to tell you hello.”

  “Ahh...uh, thank you...thank him...I....I...” Rona hung up.

  The next morning she showered and coating the butt plug worked it painfully into her anal opening. She wore a tight fitting pale green dress and the white pumps, no undergarments. She remembered to remove the ankle bracelet and put a band aid over the black spade tattoo on her ankle. Paul was asleep in the spare bedroom when she left.

  All during the day she felt nervous, distracted and forgetful. Her students whispered among themselves about the dramatic change in her appearance. Some of the boys made obscene comments which she pretended not to hear. Darnell was in the last class of the day. When his classmates started to file in she felt her nipples harden and her mouth fill with saliva. When the late bell rang Darnell was not in his seat. During the class period she kept glancing at the door expecting him to swagger in and dare her to reprimand him for being late. He never appeared. She told herself she was relieved, but knew that was not true. She thought he might be waiting for her in the parking lot, but he wasn’t.

  When she got home, Paul was still in his bathrobe. He hadn’t shaved and looked pale and haggard. He had trouble looking at her and seemed afraid to speak to her.

  “How did it go today?” he asked. She ignored him. “Ah...was...was that boy....”

  “No, he wasn’t,” she shot back.

  “Watts left a message,” he said.

  She slammed down her briefcase, “I should have known. What is it?”

  “He gave me an address. I’m to take you there and wait in the car. He said to wear a button blouse and short skirt and....and he said fuck-me shoes.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Uh, no. He said to remind you about the...the plug and the ponytail clip.”

  They left the house at seven-thirty. It had turned chilly. Ann wore a suit jacket over a white blouse. Her short skirt was tight and black. On her feet were black patent leather open toed stilettos. She was finding it much easier to walk in the four inch heels. Paul wore his chauffeur’s uniform. Ann sat in the back of the BMW as he drove. They didn’t speak. The address was in one of the worst parts of Bed-Stuy. He drove south on Bedford and turned east on Quincy. The number was 117. It was a seedy apartment building, grates on the windows, an iron fire escape zigzagging down the side. Ann felt sick at the stomach. “You mean this is it?”