by Zane
This particular Friday, I altered my routine and went to see Quinton. I had endured a rough day at the office, and I figured a round or two of hellified sex was just what the doctor ordered. My game plan was to swing by the loft, get my freak on with quickness, and head on home for a night of videos and microwave popcorn with the gang. If I’d taken my ass home from jump street, I would’ve saved myself a lot of humiliation, and inevitably, a hell of a lot of trouble.
When I got to the loft, the door was wide open like he was expecting me. I walked on in, but Quinton was nowhere in sight on the bottom level. I decided to tiptoe upstairs and try to surprise him. He wasn’t there either.
On my way back out, having no idea what to make of the situation, I heard some slow jams coming from Diamond’s loft down the hall. I sauntered on down there, hoping she could shed some light on Quinton’s whereabouts. I assumed he had made a run to a carry-out or convenience store or something of that nature. He couldn’t have gone too far with his place unlocked like that.
When I got within a few feet of her door, instinct told me to turn around. Curiosity made me keep walking, though. It was obvious she was throwing down with someone—I could hear the loud moans. My face flushed with anger. I almost half-convinced myself what I was thinking was wrong, but I had to find out if my suspicions were on the money.
Her door was slightly ajar. I gently pushed it open wider. Diamond was knocking boots with somebody all right, and that somebody was Quinton. He was banging the hell out of her up against the wooden bar spanning the wall of the room. The wall was covered with a mirror.
I just stood there for a few seconds, letting it all register in my mind. The tears built up in my eyes, matching the hostility that was already inside me. Droplets of sweat were trickling from their bodies. He hungrily took her left breast into his mouth while he caught a rhythm and started fucking her harder.
I was turning to leave when he glanced in the mirror and saw me standing there flabbergasted in the doorway. Before his skank ass could even yell out my name, I was down the hall, pushing erratically on the call button for the elevator. I pushed it about twenty times, even though once would have sufficed.
“Zoe!” Quinton came rushing toward me, pulling his pants up on the way. The pathetic bastard!
I started to not even acknowledge his ass, but the anger took over. “Let me guess,” I stated sarcastically. “You were helping her change a lightbulb when you slipped on a ballet slipper and fell in?”
“Zoe, listen to me please!” He grabbed my arm, and I immediately yanked it away.
“Don’t touch me, you, you, you . . .” I couldn’t even think of a word to fit the bill.
“What just happened between Diamond and I was a mistake,” he insisted. “It’s never happened before, and it’ll never happen again!”
He was not even fooling me! “Whatever! I don’t want to hear your pack of lies!” I banged on the elevator button again. “I just wish this damn elevator would hurry up!”
Do you know what that nucca did? He had the nerve to cop a ’tude with me! “Look, it’s not like you’re not fuckin’ married! You go home and lay up in the bed with him every night while I have to go to sleep alone!”
I held my hand up in his face so he could talk to it because I wasn’t listening.
“I asked you, hell, I begged your ass to be with me, Zoe!”
I knew he had a valid point, but I wasn’t going to allow him to turn the situation at hand around on me, so I asked him, “How long have you been fucking her?”
He just kept on his own rampage. “I wanted you to leave him and move in with me, but you treated our relationship like some sort of joke!”
I screamed it at the top of my lungs the second time around. “How long have you been fucking her?”
Quinton shook his head in dismay. “I just told you, this was the first and last time.”
He tried to reach for me again, but I backed away from him. Diamond poked her head out of the doorway. I yelled out, “Bitch!”
Quinton darted his eyes in her direction and waved her away. She went back inside her place and slammed the door. “Zoe, let’s just go in my place and talk this over,” he pleaded with me.
“Talk it over? Sheeeeeeit, there’s nothing to discuss.” I pointed down the hall. “Take your skank ass back in there with your skeezer. I’m going to take the stairs. This elevator’s taking too damn long.”
He grabbed for me one last time and hooked a finger on the back waistline of my skirt. I slapped his hand away and headed for the stairwell. “Get your fuckin’ hands off of me, Quinton! You smell like pussy and I hate you! I fuckin’ hate you!”
I took the steps two at a time on the way down, hearing the echoes of him screaming out my name until I got to the garage.
I wasn’t any good the rest of the weekend. On Sunday afternoon, I asked Jason to watch the kids so I could go visit Brina alone. He was down for that, since he had a bunch of buddies over to watch a college football game anyway. He was probably glad to get the Mrs. out the house so boys could be boys. For a minute, I got offended; it was almost like he wanted me to be a ghost. I started to stay home out of spite, but I really needed to get away for a few hours, so I made some deli wraps and cocktail sausages for his crew before I went on my dreary way.
When I got to Brina’s place, I heard a bunch of clamor coming from inside her apartment and immediately wanted to find out what the hell was going on. I knocked on the door and as soon as she answered, I asked, “What the hell’s going on?”
“Hey, Sis! ’Sup? I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“I decided to surprise you, but I’m the one in shock.” I barged my way into her apartment, ready to kick someone’s ass if need be. “Why all the yelling? I could hear you as soon as I came in the front door of the building.”
“Oh, Dempsey and I were just having a slight disagreement. It’s all cool now. He’s my baby boo.”
Before I could ask where the so-called romantic Dempsey I had heard so much about was, I noticed Brina had a black eye. I grabbed her by the cheek and held her head steady so I could get a better look. “What in the hell is that?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s what!” His trick ass came around the corner from the bathroom, talking trash and zipping up a pair of baggy jeans.
If he was going to come at me like that, I was damn sure going to reciprocate. “Hmm, your pathetic beanpole, anorexic ass must be Dempsey.”
“Who the fuck are you?” He darted his eyes at Brina. “Who the fuck is she?”
I decided to answer his question, since Brina seemed to have lost her tongue. “I’m her best friend, and the one sistah who’s going to ram her foot up your ass and cut off your dick if you ever lay another hand on Brina!”
He laughed like I was playing tiddly-winks with him. He must’ve missed the memo, because I was not the one. “Yeah, right, you trifling bitch! I’ll kick your little ass too!”
He was clearly drunk. He was staggering, not to mention reeking of alcohol. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled the switchblade I kept there for protection when I was walking from the office to Quinton’s or wherever else downtown, popped the blade open, and pushed it up against his throat, forcing him back up against the wall.
I don’t know what came over me, but I was prepared to open a can of whup-ass and take it to the bridge if need be. “Looka here, trick! Don’t try to play with me, and if you ever touch Brina again, I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat! Now get your shit and get the hell out!”
“Damn, sistah, chill!” He threw his hands up in the air, not willing to find out if I was frontin’ or not, and slowly moved sideways away from the blade. “I’m going! I’ll leave right now!”
I put my knife away and went to hold the door open for him. “I know your ass is leaving! Get out!”
He put his cheap, bama tennis shoes on, got his coat, and left without saying another word. Brina sat in the fetal position in a corner, crying he
r eyes out. After he was gone, I put the double lock on the door and turned on her. “Are you crazy?”
She used the sleeve of her nightgown to wipe the mucus from her nose and tears from her eyes. “Zoe, I don’t need this right now. I really don’t.”
“Well, you’re going to get this right now! How in the hell are you gonna let that man beat on you like a punching bag?”
“Dempsey’s been having a lot of problems at work and with his family back in Alabama.” She got up from the corner and went into the kitchen to get a cold glass of water from the faucet. I followed her.
“And? I fail to see what any of that has to do with him beating up on you. Lots of people have problems. They don’t beat their woman to relieve their stress.”
“Look, Zoe, I love Dempsey! That mess you just pulled was wrong! Pulling a blade on him like that!” She slammed the glass down on the counter, almost breaking it.
I lowered my voice, trying not to let my true emotions show because part of me wanted to slap the shit out of her for being so damn ignorant. “Brina, I love you, but I’m leaving. I refuse to stand here and listen to you defend that ignorant bastard.”
“You’re so wrong! You just don’t understand!”
“Whatever. You want your ass beat, so be it. Women always say people don’t understand, but unless you have an awakening, he’ll continue to beat up on you. I can’t help you until you’re ready to help your damn self.” I gave her a hug and a kiss, grabbed her by the chin so I could take another look at the shiner he gave her, shook my head in disgust, and left.
I didn’t feel like going back home so soon. Most of the malls were closed already, being it was Sunday, so I decided to just drive around for a while. My life had been really traumatic the past few days. First catching Quinton banging the hell out that ho and now finding out Brina was letting some bama pulverize her. I wasn’t paying attention to the road and almost crashed a red light. I slammed on the brakes, and the tires screeched to a halt mere inches from the pedestrian walkway.
My glove compartment popped open. Everything in it flew all over the front seat and floor of the car. I pulled over to the curb, turned on the interior light because the sun was setting, and started picking up the mess.
Somewhere in between the tube of dried-up lipstick that had probably been in there since Peter was a baby and the car’s registration certificate, I ran across the matchbook with Tyson’s number inside the cover.
I contemplated things and decided since Quinton was fucking that hoochie, bringing my benched player into the game might not be such a bad idea. I knew my ass was wrong, but I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number anyway. He answered on the third ring, sounding like he was half asleep. He perked up when I told him who was calling and rushed to give me the directions to his place before I could even dig a pen out my purse to write them down.
I arrived at his apartment complex about twenty minutes later and realized straight off the bat I had no business driving, rather less parking, a Mercedes anywhere near it. However, he lived on the bottom level, and I was able to find a space right in front of his door, so I took the risk.
Tyson answered the door after I barely tapped on it. He was obviously looking out the peephole awaiting my arrival. His one-bedroom apartment was cozy and nicely decorated. I could tell he was a man who took care of himself and his belongings. He was wet, barefoot, and in a pair of jeans only. I was flattered he had gone through the trouble of taking a shower before I showed up. We both knew I was making a booty call, and I’ll take a pair of fresh, clean balls over sweaty ones any damn day.
Tyson and I kicked it for about ten minutes, just shooting the breeze. He asked me if I wanted a drink, I told him no thanks, and then he decided to cut the bullshit. “Take off your dress.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said take off your dress.”
He was sitting on a dining room chair, and I was standing over by his entertainment center, looking at some family photos. I should’ve cussed his ass out and left, but I reached behind my back and unzipped my gray casual dress instead. I lowered it off of my shoulders, stepped out of it, and ended up standing there only in my black slip, panties, and black leather, low-heel pumps.
“Come over here.” He spread his legs open and patted his right thigh, motioning for me to sit on it.
“Damn, aren’t you the assuming one, and demanding too! Sheeesh!” I was talking junk but walking over toward him at the same time.
“I’m not assuming anything. I’m just not into playing games. We both know why you’re here, woman, so come and get what you came for.”
I decided if he could be off the hook, I could be off the hook too. My nymphomaniac evil twin woke up and took over. “Don’t mind if I do.” I sat down on his leg and started rubbing his crotch. “Ummm, damn, is he hard for me already?”
“He stays hard. Take him out and put him in your mouth.”
“Hmph, I think not.” I removed my hand. “You do me first.”
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh, Miss Zoe?”
“Damn straight. No licking, no sticking.” He grinned as I got up off his leg and climbed up on the table. He stood up just long enough to turn his seat around so he was facing me.
“Ummm, okay, I’ll play along with your little game.” He raised up my slip and started trying to pull my panties down, but I wouldn’t lift my hips so he could get them over my ass.
I grabbed his face with my hands and slipped him the tongue. It was a brief, rough kiss, but I was in the mood for something rough for a change. When we came up for air, I instructed him, “Rip my panties off!”
As big and strong as Tyson was, he had to exert little effort tearing them bad boys off. He tossed them on the floor, stood up, and started kissing me again, pressing my back onto the table’s cold metal surface. He decided to take it to the bridge and ripped the straps off my slip too, pulling the nylon material down over my ribcage so he could grab both my breasts at the same time and bite gently on my nipples.
I grabbed the back of his head, bringing his mouth closer into my breasts. He pushed them together, taking both nipples into his mouth at the same time so he could suckle on them. He licked a trail with his tongue from my nipples down the middle of my stomach to my belly button, pausing there to dip his tongue in it and then blowing on it to make his saliva dry up. Damn, that shit turned me on!
He spread my legs open and went to work on my pussy. Tyson’s technique was different from Quinton’s. He bit on my clit, and while it was painful, it made me cum almost immediately. I was discovering yet another part of my sexual desires I never knew existed. I discovered I liked it rough.
That fact became even more obvious when he made me sit in a chair while he held my head and plummeted his dick in and out my mouth. I thought his dick was going to knock all of my front teeth out at one point. He was working his thang in and out my mouth so fast, but I held my own and sucked him until he came. His cum had a different taste than Quinton’s. It was more salty. Once I realized that every man’s cum had a distinctive taste, I began to wonder what Jason’s cum would taste like. The man I wanted to taste the most wouldn’t let my mouth anywhere near his dick.
“I have to go!” Tyson had just exploded in my mouth, and there were still a few droplets of cum trickling out the sides onto my chin when I blurted it out.
He looked at me like I had lost my fuckin’ mind. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“No, I really do have to go.” I got up from the chair and headed toward the door. Looking back at it now, I don’t know what my issues were, but I definitely had some. It was almost as if I thought oral sex wasn’t actual cheating or something. Like with what I did with Quinton in the beginning, I intended to leave it at oral sex and go home. But Tyson wasn’t even going out like that.
I was standing on the backside of his couch, putting my dress back on, opting to ditch the torn panties and slip at his place, when he came up behind me and pushed me over the back of
the couch so my head ended upside down and my feet were dangling off the floor. “Tyson, stop!”
“Sure, I’ll stop when I’m done.” I tried to get up, but he was too strong and forced me to stay bent over while he stuck his dick in my pussy from behind. He fucked the living daylights out of me, and there was no point in saying it wasn’t what I really wanted. The streams of cum and pussy juice trickling down my inner thighs onto the floor told the true story.
He fucked me so hard, I could feel his balls slamming up against the back of my thighs while he pumped his dick in and out of me. When it was all over and he had busted his second nut, he let me down. I finished getting dressed, and we were both breathing like we had just crossed the finish line in a twenty-six-mile marathon. I had never been turned out in such a fashion.
After I got my shoes on, I headed for the door. “Hold up, Zoe. I know you’re married and all, but do you have an office number where I can reach you? I want to see you again.”
I opened the front door of his apartment and glanced back at him sitting on the couch, still trying to catch his breath. “No, I’m a housewife. I don’t have an office number.”
“Pager? Cell phone?”
“No, none of that.” My ass was lying big-time, but keeping my anonymity was the one bright side to the whole fucked-up situation. Tyson only knew me as Zoe , and that’s all his ass needed to know.
“So, will I see you again?”
“I’ll be in touch!” With that, I left his place, got in my car, and drove home. Jason still had a couple of friends over when I arrived home. The game was over, but they were sitting around drinking beers and talking about various player’s career statistics.
He waved at me as I came in. “Hey, baby. Have a good time with Brina?”
“Yes, we had a nice, long talk.” Yet another lie! I was getting too good at fabrication. Before Jason could get up to come over and give me a kiss, I told him I was going upstairs to take a hot shower because my back was sore. I didn’t want him to smell sex on me, and besides, my back and everything else was sore from being fucked so hard.
