LOCAL AUTHORITIES AND THE FBI ROUND UP DRUG DEALERS AND MAKE SUBSTANTIAL DRUG BUSTS
The news account failed to mention that the six men were found bound and gagged and sleeping.
CHAPTER 40
Nature on the Rise
Since the meeting at the mall, Darcelle and her daughter had eaten dinner twice at Mintfurd’s home. The not-quite-yet couple cooked in the kitchen together, and the three of them sat at the dinner table. Darcelle and her daughter had never sat down at the dinner table with a man. It had her daughter asking if Mintfurd could come over to help her mommy cook again, and sit at the dinner table altogether, and say grace. That had never happened. Mintfurd took time to teach Diedra to say grace.
Today, Mintfurd and Darcelle were taking advantage of some alone time. They walked the Seward Park loop, after having dinner at Tylowe and Meeah’s. It was constant amazement for Darcelle to see how well Mintfurd moved. He moved better than many average-sized men. A power walker herself and sometime 5K runner, Darcelle challenged Mintfurd to keep up with her going around the loop. It was now their second lap around the three-mile loop, and he was almost carrying her at the pace he set.
Seward Park in Seattle is the one place black couples will go out for a stroll and other park activities. Mintfurd and Darcelle passed and waved to people and enjoyed the beautiful water that surrounded the walking loop. He asked her to cut through the woods with its gradual trail incline to add to their workout.
He started to jog up the hill, and she couldn’t keep up with him. He made it to the crest of the incline and waited for her. When she finally arrived, she fell against his huge body, and he wrapped his arm around her. Her head height rested on his firm stomach. Her arms barely made it from side to side of him. He was warm, and despite the fact they had been moving for an hour, his scent was full of sweet, musky, male pheromones.
Her intake ignited certain senses in her body that felt like a high and glowed with warmth. Her body was responding to want. It had been such a long time. She pulled back and stared up at Mintfurd. Nervousness overtook her. They had not kissed other than pecks on the cheeks and a few brushes of lips. After twenty-four dates and days in each other’s presence, not one hard, deep, lip-locking kiss. A month of long nightly phone conversations, and many daily mini phone chats, and the only bodily contact they shared were light hugs when they came together, or when they parted from each other.
Mintfurd reached for her hand and guided her forward. Her head was down; her body language expressed shyness, and a need for help, but she was not alone in her feelings.
“This is new for me, too, Darcelle. How to be romantic, and in the moment, I’m a rookie; help me,” he said teasingly.
“Pick me up, please,” she said.
“Love to.” He reached under her ass and lifted her as if she were a bushel of flowers. She worked her legs around him and locked her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and kept her face to the side of his. What she needed to say was that she couldn’t look him in his eyes yet.
“Mintfurd, I have shared a lot with you. You know my family was different from most black people and I’ve been married twice. But I have only told you the surface about why I’m not with either one.”
“Shhh, hold up, Darcelle. We all have stories. I have one of my own. Because of my size, I chose to accommodate my life with certain pleasures and I—”
“No, let me go first.” Darcelle kissed his cheek again.
Tall trees and a small forest surrounded them. Trails led up and down with hidden lookouts over the water. Mintfurd carried Darcelle with her arms wrapped around his neck. He walked a little over sixty feet off the trail and into a small clearing. It overlooked an old closed fish hatchery that used to release salmon and trout into Lake Washington. There was a tree stump and he sat down with her now sitting on his lap.
He reached for what looked like a car key fob and pressed on the keypad. He set a heat sensor that would give warning beeps if a human or large animal came closer than fifty feet to his location. As he finished, he wrapped his arms around Darcelle and held her tight as she nestled her chin on his shoulder.
She told him her story of Husband One who had chased every tail, or let every tail chase him, because he had sports celebrity status. She told of his sexual practices with her and how he had deprived her of a child, even though he was making babies elsewhere. Although it was difficult, she told him about Husband Two and his abnormal sexual practices. She left out the recent events that involved her asking Psalms for help. She had no idea that Mintfurd was a part of the fix.
“Mintfurd, I’m telling you all this, so you know I’m gullible and naïve. On the other side of this, I’ve been told my level of sexual acceptance, of free to be me, is on another level from most women. I’m not going around sleeping with a bunch of men. It has been six years. But, I’m busting at the seams for some sex. I’m busting at the seams for someone to be good to me and not take advantage of my needs no matter how strange they may be.
“I’m in need of love, and maybe you can’t love me because I’m too weird for your taste, but could you, would you, please come get in my bed or let me get in yours? I feel we can be good to each other. Where it leads from there—” She kissed the side of his face.
The sun had crested over Seward Park onto the other side, and they were now in the cool shade of tall trees. The lake turned bluer and calmer. While sitting-straddling Mintfurd, Darcelle noticed the arousal from his crotch area when she shared her past sexual situations. It sent stimulating excitement between her legs. She felt dampness and a tingling inside her panties, and her skin felt hot despite being in the shade.
“Darcelle, I’m sure women have all kinds of reasons why I couldn’t be a viable lover for them, and because of that, I don’t know the love of a woman. I have never been in love or given love, yet. My physical release has been with professional women I have paid to be with me. I have, for most of my adult life, paid for sex. I have ordered women like anyone would order a cheeseburger to be cooked without the secret sauce. I have placed orders most of the time for six women over six feet tall, with a lot of ass, and who are strong and flexible.”
Darcelle’s inner vision pictured this, and she felt more dampness and tingling.
“A little over a year ago, a woman who serviced me…she told me she couldn’t do it anymore because she found someone to marry her. It messed me up, and I have gone without ever since, but you feel me under you. All I have known since is porn, Vaseline and my hand.” He laughed, and she did, too. Mintfurd took his hand and rubbed and squeezed her ass several times. She groaned for the squirrels and the birds to know her feelings at that moment.
“I-I-I have a rather sensitive ass, and it don’t take much of a touch to get me off.”
Mintfurd laughed, and she felt the vibration his body gave off. Darcelle was on fire with the possibility she would feel a man soon.
“I’m glad you have a sensitive ass. Besides me staring at it all the time I could, I would . . . Okay, let’s finish talking about us. Whew.
“Does my size give you pause, because as I said, I’ve only been with the kind of women that could handle me the best.”
“I’m flexible, and yes, I may be a small woman, but you see I have breasts, I am top-heavy, and you see all this booty. Don’t let the small waist and my shortness fool ya, Big Boy. You don’t scare me.”
“Then yes, I want to get in your bed, and for you to lie in mine. But I must add, my dear, I want love from you. If you can find a way to love me, that’s what I need.”
Darcelle placed her eyes inches away from his pretty handsome face. They both stared almost through each other’s eyes as if searching. Her lips rested on his, and they froze as blood rushed to their lips and warm breaths intoxicated their passions. She felt his hard-on pushing and stirring under her. She moved her hips in a circling motion as if his hardness was inside her. Their lips parted and she slid her tongue into his mouth, and he sucked her tongu
e and her air. They kissed hard and liquid escaped from the corners of their mouths as their lips were all over each other’s. Darcelle dry-humped his raging-wanting-to-escape hardness. She stopped and lifted off his lap quickly.
“Stand up,” she ordered him, but he acted as if he didn’t understand. “Stand up, Mintfurd.” He did, and she squatted easily down and she rubbed the side of her face on the length of his long dick. She felt his girth and the twinge she felt between her pussy lips almost made her feel she had to pee.
She pulled at his sports pants waistband. She had to stand to work them over his hardness. Her eyes blinked. His dick was pretty like his pretty, handsome face. Mintfurd’s dick head looked molded for an art display of perfection, and he dripped a thick stream of clear life from the opening. The clear, syrupy, pre-cum slowly but surely ran down the thick vein under his dick and over his balls. He appeared to be a slow-running faucet. She watched the stream come to the end of his tight ball sac, and she caught the thick drip in her hand.
In the middle of nature, his dick seemed to be as thick as the fir trees around them, and it pointed straight up to his belly button and maybe above it. Squatting down and looking up at a man, she saw his head was in the sky.
Darcelle wanted to get her mouth on his dick. With it being the size it was, she could sense she could suck as hard as she wanted; it was going to feel wonderful in her mouth, but first she wanted to make his face lose its composure. She took the slipperiness in her hand and wrapped her forefinger and thumb tightly around his powerful dick head, and she squeezed and stroked. This time he was the one who groaned, and the forest absorbed his guttural animalistic moan. She stroked his hardness as more clearness came forth as if someone needed to turn off a valve. Mintfurd was getting off, and was humping the air, and she masturbated his hardness, and then he felt her mouth on his dick. She was sucking hard on the shaft near his balls as she stroked him.
Her head was angled, and she could see his unrestricted facial expressions. It made her reach under her sports bra and squeeze her breasts. She pulled on her nipples and then slipped her hand down and into her wet opening. Her pussy throbbed.
She thought about sitting him back down on the stump and climbing on his dick, and riding him right there in the middle of the forest. She was fantasizing while having a real fantasy. She could see her naked ass squatting on his dick, as she was bouncing up and down on his hardness with her arms wrapped around his neck. She imagined she could look out over the water as the sun was falling to sleep, and feel him rising inside her lonely internals. She wanted to feel her skin rubbing on him wholly and unconditionally, but she fought off the thought of riding the dick that was in her hand and against her lips. She stood up.
“I want you to stroke that dick for me. I want you to cum on my ass.” They both heard others walking the trail laughing, and singing, in the distance. They were far enough away, yet she placed her fingers to her lips to tell him to keep the noise down, but she wanted to hear him get off. She quickly licked her fingers for him to see. He was so high on the whole ordeal. Mintfurd didn’t know if that was his wetness on her fingers that her tongue devoured, or her own wetness she tasted. It didn’t matter; he was getting high watching her.
He groaned almost too loud. She missed hearing that sound, and she missed making a man lose control. She had always been skilled at doing just that—never mind that it had been a long while.
She turned around and slipped her top off, pulled her sweatpants down and stepped one leg out along with her soaking panties. She wouldn’t be putting them back on. Darcelle was short, but her womanly features were on par with any curvy woman. Her ass was art in how it curved and was slightly larger than one would think. Her body was athletic, but short.
She placed her hands above her knees and started working her ass for Mintfurd to enjoy, and he was feeling his hardness throb in his hand. The huge man had his pants down at his ankles, and his massively sized hands were stroking his hardness with potent strokes. She worked her ass in a nasty, gyrating motion.
Darcelle spoke in a hushed voice. “Let it go, baby, I need for you to get off. Look at my ass; it wants you. Here, look at this.” She leaned over more and reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart, and it didn’t matter that she was so much shorter than he was. He could see her plump pussy lips, and a tight puckering asshole. He moved in behind her and squatted down so that his balls and the shaft of his dick touched her ass.
That was it; that was the touch that made him want to shoot his warm release of cum hard and he did as he backed up. As he stroked his dick head, he shot on her ass and his thick cum swam down the crease. He groaned and threw his head back and then down. His breath was heavy and his chest expanded. His warm release of cum slipped down and off her pussy and onto the ground. She turned to hug him, but he was still hard.
“Come on, Big Boy, let’s go before the cops come knocking on a tree and arrest us for doing what they would like to do.” She squatted down, lifted his pants and marveled at his powerful-looking thighs. She wanted to feel his power, and it was coming soon.
CHAPTER 41
Don’t Touch
Psalms Black, Suzy Q, and EL’vis, who had flown back to the East Coast, all met in Killeen, Texas. Psalms flew into Houston, Suzy Q into San Antonio, and EL’vis into Dallas. Each drove into Killeen and they stayed in three separate places. A plan was in place. They came to get even for the wrong done to Gabrielle, and to send a message.
The Duck would be in Killeen to meet with business leaders. He had been clueless about what had happened to his assassins, and so he had kept a low profile until now. But, it was time for him to come out of his hole. The government provided tax dollars to The Duck, just like Gabrielle, for expensive security, but they were not the Secret Service. A highly trained, highly qualified, private security company protected him.
Psalms tracked the team protecting The Duck. Psalms knew the head man from his days as an agent. The man had served under five other presidents, and now was an independent security contractor. Tracking him would set their plan in motion.
The week before, Suzy Q had stalked the man into a stylish restaurant, where he sat with a couple of his agents, having dinner. She had tracked him with an electronic device from Mintfurd, and she had captured all his phone calls using the cell tower switching stations.
The success of the plan depended on total coordination. They didn’t use cell phones, but old-fashioned walkie-talkies to transmit in code instead. Psalms understood The Duck’s security had their own high-tech abilities. Morse code and walkie-talkies were a limited, low-band type of communication that would pass below their radar.
The Duck walked out of the meeting, escorted by his security team, to a convoy. The convoy was heading back to Dallas, a two-and-a-half-hour drive on I-35 N. They would never get to the freeway. In three blocks, life would change for America.
Once out of office, presidential staff and ex-senators didn’t have motorcades that would draw city or state police to help provide security during travel. Security became much more of a low-profile patrol of protection.
Stationed in a closed-down business looking out through blinds, Psalms observed. The convoy turned left and drove down a rarely traveled street, on their way to the freeway. As he waited he laughed, but without humor. The former president and his administration had brought on this recession that had closed down hundreds of businesses. Psalms thought about the pain of politics. Politicians did not weigh the honest effects of the suffering of real people. Many cities had streets of business that used to thrive and had survived decades of down years, but the last recession had made many streets into little ghost towns. Super-mega stores of cheap goods from sweatshops in foreign lands sent Americans to the unemployment line or worse. Big banks with no regulations overinvested in bogus investments due to the former president and his administration giving tax breaks to their rich friends. Psalms shook his head and smirked at the claim that giving corporations tax breaks woul
d generate jobs; it never worked. This time it crippled the last of the mom-and-pop small businesses.
Psalms chuckled again. He was in a boarded-up store, a byproduct of the administration that Gabrielle was a part of, and they targeted her to die for not supporting this part of the grand scheme. The little abandoned store would help bring some justice. Psalms did something way out of character; he drew a smiley face in the dust on the floor with his gloved finger.
Psalms pushed a button. The engines died shortly after that. The three SUVs all stopped. The second one collided into the first one, sending the third truck crashing into the middle one. Psalms pushed another button and the door of the middle SUV unlocked.
EL’vis had tanned his skin to take on a different look, to confuse someone who might try to identify him. He was dressed as a gun-slinging Mexican cartel drug dealer, with fake tattoos on his forearms that Popeye would envy. Likewise, Suzy Q had disguised herself in a hoodie and a spray tan, and they rushed the middle SUV and pulled out the sleeping Duck. They had their man. They dragged him to the building where Psalms waited. The few people who saw their big guns stayed way back, almost frozen.
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