The Deviant

by Tiana Laveen

  “Man, all right, you’re buggin’. I gotta get back to what I was doing. Thanks for the update on someone we don’t even think about and then talking about screwing his poor mother. You’re crazy, Shane.” King did his utmost to suppress laughter, but wasn’t successful. Shane was always cracking on someone. “Let me call you back. I’m with Suri at the—”

  “Suri? The cute chick you met from the club, been spending all your time with, and dissin’ your boys ’cause you so far up her ass now? The same Suri that I had to text on your behalf to let her know her lover boy was a jailbird? That Suri?”

  “Fuck you, Shane.” King chortled.

  “Hey, I meant to ask you, does she have any sisters? Fine ass single friends, maybe?”

  “No, well, yes. Long story about the sister, plenty of friends, but I would never set up anyone with you. I’m not trying to get dragged into the middle of some mess when it implodes.”

  “Fuck you, then. Jafar lookin’ ass. Yo, it’s awfully quiet over there… Ohhh…” He laughed in a sneaky sort of way. “Y’all fuckin’ right now, aren’t you? That’s why you’re in such a hurry to get off the phone. Put the phone down and let me listen.”

  King quickly ended the call.

  “Hey, baby, you can hit the light.” He pointed at several switches on the wall. Suri flicked them all on. She ran her hand up and down her arms, over her sweater. “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “That’s a lie. You just don’t want to admit you should’ve brought your coat like I told you.” He chuckled. “You just can’t say, ‘Hey, baby, you were right, and I was wrong.’ Go on. Try it out for size.”

  The woman stuck her tongue out at him. He continued to move several canvases from between the protective metal barriers.

  “I’m still narrowing down which ones are going to be in the show. It’s a hard choice.”

  “I can help you if you want.”

  “All right.”

  Some of the artwork had white sheets covering them. He scooted a cart aside, unsnapped several pins that held the cloth over the frame, and let it fall away to the floor. When he went towards the corner of the warehouse to check his materials stock, he could hear her walking, her sneakers making a slight squeaky noise against the floor. Then, her steps stopped. He turned to find her standing before a large painting. He proceeded to open the doors of a small portable closet in the corner and check some of his older paints. Grabbing a few that were dried out and unable to be revived, he tossed them into a plastic garbage bag, which he set gently on the floor. Suri was still in the same place, her eyes fixed on the painting. He walked in her direction.

  “This is amazing, King.” She was staring at the image of a hillside in Ireland, dotted with homes and a few people moving about. He’d painted it for his grandmother, but hadn’t given it to her yet. “It looks like I could take off my shoes and step right inside. Like I could be there, right with everyone else.” She reached to it, her fingers a mere whisper away, but she didn’t touch it. “How do you do this? I mean, I know you said it’s God given, but this isn’t something most people could do. I feel like I could step on that grass, feel that breeze. Your art is a beating heart. It’s alive.” She looked at him, her eyes full of wonder.

  “You know, I’ve gotten much better over the years with landscape paintings. It took a lot of practice, age, and time.”

  “Everything gets better the more you do it.” She tossed him a flirty wink, then wiggled her way between several hanging canvases.

  “Hey, I want you to meet the rest of my friends, Suri. My mãe and my mamãe, too.”

  “Does mãe mean mother in Portuguese?”

  “It’s one way to say it. When I’m talking directly to her, I usually use mãe.”

  “Mãe… mãe,” she repeated. “How many languages do you know?”

  “English, Portuguese, Greek, Spanish and I’d say I’m fairly fluent in Italian. It’s my weakest one, but I know enough to get by. All of them, but Spanish, were spoken in my home. I learned Spanish on my own, in school, and through my boys. I have many Puerto Rican, Cuban, and Dominican friends.”

  “I want to learn Portuguese. You gonna teach me.” She bowed her head ever so slightly in a cute, flirty way.

  “Yeah, I’ll teach you.”

  “How do you say, ‘you’re my king’?” She smiled as she moved slowly away from him, and he gave a leisurely chase.

  “És o meu rei.”

  “So, is rei the word for king? I think you told me that once?”

  “Yes. The soap opera my mother watched… a guy named Rei. ‘You’re my queen’ translates to: És a minha rainha. Rainha is queen. Queen Suri. Rainha Suri…” He bit his lower lip as he inched closer to her.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “I have to honor and respect you. One way I do that is by introducing you to the people that I care for and love. And introduce them to the woman in my life, too. The queen can make moves the king can’t.” Their gazes hooked. Mutual seduction had commenced.

  “I’d be honored to meet your friends and your mother. Just tell me when and I’ll be there. You have to pay the toll first though, big boy. Not everyone is so lucky to be in my presence,” she teased.

  “What’s the price, huh? How much I gotta pay?” He reached into his pocket and removed his wallet.

  “Fuck me. Fuck me good. I want all you got. I want that long tongue in my mouth, that big, juicy dick in my pussy, and I want you to talk dirty in my ear. I love how your deep voice sounds when you whisper, and when you cum.”

  She wiggled out of her sweater and bra, exposing those breasts he coveted so much. Tossing the garments on the floor, she stood in front of him gloriously naked. Proud. Beautiful. A perfectly deviant lover.

  “Oh, I can definitely pay that amount. Cold hard cash. Hard being the most important word in that whole sentence for this transaction. In fact,” he stroked his dick over his jeans as he eyed her, “I can pay it right now.” He undid his belt and zipper and in a flash, he was naked. The woman took off running, her titties bouncing as she laughed, looking over her shoulder every now and again. He gave chase, and it didn’t take long before he had her pinned against the wall. With his eye keenly upon her, he roughly pulled her leggings and panties down, hoisted her in his arms, and christened her with a kiss. “Come on, baby!”

  She panted in his ear as he opened her legs.

  “Shit! King!”

  “Uhh!”

  She gripped him hard, her nails digging and dragging into his back as he entered her like his life depended on it. Fingers raking through his hair, she sighed. He pulled her away from the wall, looking up into her eyes as if she were a chef-d’oeuvre. His masterpiece. His alone.

  “I’m gonna make art inside of you, baby!” He pumped deep and hard, getting off on her moans and screams, the way her head tilted back and exposed a long, elegant neck ripe for his kiss. He caressed and licked her sweet flesh, feasting upon her as he jostled her up and down on his hard, greedy cock. Her warm juices rained down his shaft.

  “Paint a picture inside of me! Feels so good, baby!” she urged, rotating her hips against him, turning him into her slave and master, all at the same damn time. Pressing their foreheads together, they stared at one another. Never had a woman made him feel this way before. Never had he fallen so hard, so fast. He was out of control, and there wasn’t shit he could do about it.

  Suri slid against him, then shook, her legs shaking like maracas. So beautiful…

  She cried out, those big, beautiful dark brown eyes became glassy, and he couldn’t resist a touch of their lips.

  I’m constantly changing because of her. It’s a metamorphosis. She makes me feel things I never knew were possible. She’s incredible.

  “You are an amazing lover,” she panted as he placed her down gently on a thick board along the floor, then hovered over her, looking at his art. “And I’m not just talking about sex.
A lover is so much more than sex.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair, then slipped his hand around the base of his dick and guided himself back inside her love. They sighed at the same time as he pushed in, then out, then repeated the movement, slow and easy. She wrapped her warm thighs around him, crossing her ankles along his back. He arched back, then propelled forward inside of her. With his speed increasing, her shouts echoed, now competing with the music of a car blasting near one of the windows. He recognized the song. ‘Alright,’ by Jordan Rakei.

  “You like that, huh? You love how I fuck you, Queen Suri. Don’t you, baby?”

  “Shit! Yes!”

  “You like that long, thick curved dick deep inside your beautiful, wet, drippin’ pussy…”

  His body suddenly heated as his climax soared within him. Pushing her arms straight back, fingers intertwined, he roared as his release came. Her soaking pussy squeezed and compressed his dick as she gyrated her hips, swallowing him impossibly deeper within her. The muscles in his thighs burned as he went as bottomless and fast as he possibly could, depositing his love deep inside her. He shuddered, then fell upon her, feeling drunk… euphoric. So in love. His skull throbbed as their slippery bodies clung to one another. It was cold, yet warm. They both tried desperately to catch their breath. He rose up ever so slightly and looked deep into her eyes, seeing his reflection in them. It was the first time he saw himself as beautiful.

  Now, he believed her.

  He brushed back her hair with his palm. He was thinking so many things, but right then, as he throbbed inside her heated sanctuary, he just wanted to embrace the moment. Time ticked, and he didn’t wish to move. He hated this part… slipping away from her.

  “Your heartbeat is like irregular percussions. Choppy beats that a twisted soul can dance to. Your heartbeat is like a dark alley. The bricks from both sides shake, falling into the structure until there’s nothing left but ash and rays dancing through dusty streams of light.” He held her tighter, loved her harder as she broke the spell of silence. Cast her art in his direction, destined to make it stick against the canvas of his love. “You feel heavy, yet light. You have too many dichotomies, I can’t keep count. You keep me guessing, King, and I keep falling further in love with you. I adore the smell of your sweat mixing with your cologne that you wear for you, but put a little extra on for me.

  “The hardness of your muscles, the broadness of your shoulders, the strands of black hair falling from your head tickle my face, and your thick, luxurious beard, like a black lion’s mane, is a symbol of your masculinity. But you’re a true man because your word means something… it is bond. And behind that tough exterior lies a big heart. When you talk, people listen. When you paint, people watch. And now, I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

  They kissed, so passionately, then he lifted himself up, but stayed inside her. Looking down into her eyes, he once again saw his own reflection. She is worth giving my heart to, giving everything to. Maybe I am that alley. Let me pick up some of these fallen bricks so she can walk through.

  “When I was younger… the exact age escapes me but if I were to guess, I would say about thirteen… my optimistic nature was shaken to its core.” He swallowed, took a deep breath, then continued. “Right before that, I had dealt with my parents’ divorce in my own way, and didn’t think it affected me much. I still don’t because I was so young when they split, but there was always a strange tension, and yearning. My father was in treatment as I told you, so I didn’t see him as much as I would’ve liked and my stepfather, though great, wasn’t enough. So, I dealt with that, ya know, just things kids of divorced parents go through.” She nodded in understanding. “So, anyway, back to me at thirteen or so. As I told ya, I was always protective of my brothers. We were close at first. Lucas and I still are. As Tomas grew older though, he seemed to resent me. Hate me.

  “He would lie on me, say I had done things I hadn’t, and I’d get in trouble. Sometimes I would have done the things he said, like snuck outta the house, but he was always more than happy to tell and really got a kick out of seeing me punished. It got worse and worse. One day, I snapped. He said I stole money out of my mom’s purse when I hadn’t. She was missing about ten dollars, not sure how much exactly.” He shrugged. “But when she asked us about it, he blamed me and said he’d seen me take it. My mother soon thereafter found the money, and Tomas got in trouble for lying. That sparked another argument and then he… he told me that, uh, my parents didn’t even want me.”

  Suri’s eyes widened, but she remained quiet, simply stroking his arm, back and forth, back and forth.

  “Long story short, we got in each other’s face and then he ran to his room. He came back with some crumpled old envelope and pulled out this paper. In it was an abortion appointment around the time I would’ve been conceived, give or take. I still wasn’t convinced it was me. I mean, why would I? I was born. I was here.” He held out his hands, palms up. “He said he’d overheard my father and our mother talking one night. My father was drunk apparently, and he’d said he hadn’t wanted any kids, but once she was pregnant, he accepted it. And then he had to stop her from killing me, and some other shit. So, I still didn’t believe him, but it was buggin’ me, right?”

  “Well, yeah, of course that would be upsetting. So then what?” She squeezed her legs against his, wrapping herself around him. It felt like a much needed embrace.

  “So, I told him to shut up, but watched where he put the papers. I went in his room the next day when he was gone somewhere, read them, and kept them. I waited like another day or two, but my mother noticed I had been acting funny, although I wouldn’t say what was wrong. So, finally, I got my mother alone and straight out asked her. She took too long to answer.” Suri closed her eyes for a spell. “Then, uh, she admitted it, but said it had nothing to do with me, or at least, not the way I saw it. She explained that she and my father had hit a rough patch. Actually, their entire relationship had been rocky on and off, but she said she was scared and didn’t want to continue on with him, to bring a child into that mess. At the last minute, she cancelled the appointment.”

  “You know, things like this happen all the time, baby, but usually, we as the children, then eventually grown adults, just never hear anything about it. You just were one of those rare cases that found out about it, unfortunately due to the cruelty of your brother, and your mother came clean.”

  “Yeah… that’s all true. It’s funny because in the back of my mind I wanted her to lie to me, ya know? I wanted her to say that, ‘No, King, the doctor marked the wrong box. I was going for a routine maternity checkup, and they accidentally checked the D&C box,’ somethin’ like that. But, I mean, I was mature enough, too, to understand that it really wasn’t personal. She didn’t know me. I wasn’t here. She had a right to be concerned about having a baby with my father; they just didn’t get along. And I also understand being leery of bringing any children into this world. I mean, look at it. The world is all fucked up.” He swallowed again, and blinked back his emotion. “Police are killing people. Nobody cares how they treat anyone. Babies are beaten by their own parents. Old people are abandoned by the children they raised and took care of. The rich trample on the poor. It’s a fucking mess! Where’s the love?! WHERE THE HELL IS LOVE LIVING? Did she move away and just leave us here?”

  Suri rose and grabbed him by the wrists, holding his gaze.

  “Yes, look at the world, King. The world is what’s around us, and also what we make it! It’s a blank canvas! We are the ones splashing the paint on it, and we can change the picture at any time! You cannot keep towing this line of positivity and negativity. It’s killing you. It fuels your art, I get it, it is part of who you are, but the negativity is not really what you want.” Her expression was one of grave severity, and he looked down. Away from her. “King, baby, listen to me…” She reached for his chin, her fingers sinking into the hair, and turned his face back to her. “I knew that you were hurting. Everyone hurts. Y
ou weren’t so much upset that your mother had contemplated ending her pregnancy with you. You were upset that you never felt truly wanted! It’s clear, can’t you see?

  “Here you were, a little boy, practically fresh out of diapers, and your parents split. You were too young to understand it, but what you did know was that your father was gone! Then, a couple years went past and boom. Mom got married to another guy – a nice guy, but he ain’t your daddy! You feel like a third wheel. Then, before you could even come up for air, boom! A little brother, then another, back to back. Everyone was focusing on them. Mom had a new man and two new kids; she wasn’t giving you the same amount of attention as before, your father was in and out of your life due to him tryna get himself together, fighting his own demons, and you were living in a neighborhood that is rich with culture and beauty – yet not reflective very much of your culture.

  “You were trying to find your identity, but thankfully, you met some great friends who thought you were dope. Still, that didn’t make you feel complete. We’re all just semi-circles, tryna be spheres. We want to be whole. Here you are, this kid with this amazing, out of this world talent. Too much for one person, it’s downright scary, and you’re getting recognition from all over the country. Things are looking up, but you’re still feeling like the odd man out. You are still trying to escape your feelings, deny them, shoo them away. But you can’t, baby! You can’t draw ’em away, paint ’em away, fuck ’em away! I know all too well. They ain’t going nowhere! You gotta work through that shit and own it, tear out its heart and say: you happened, but I’ve conquered you. Let that pain be felt, King! Kings cry, too!”

  They grabbed one another and held each other tight, both wracked with emotion. He was in love with his new best friend. He’d found his other half. In this crazy, fucked up world, come to find out, Suri was right.

  Shit wasn’t so bad all the time, after all.

  “You are proof that the world isn’t terrible all the time. You proved me wrong. You can see things I can’t, Suri. You are the eyes of a blind artist. Me. All this time, I thought I was creating art. I hadn’t created shit until I found you…”