Pursuing The Plug

by Mercy B

  “He’s awake.” Emotionless, Hampsher nodded.

  “He is.” Rafeeq stepped forward.

  Once, twice, a third time, he’d erased the space between them. Gripping either side of her body, Rafeeq lifted her into the air and tossed her over his shoulder. The way to the guestroom was the path Rafeeq had chosen to follow. Upon entry, he tossed Hampsher on the sheets.

  “Fresh sheets,” she noted out loud.

  Surveying her surroundings, she took in the scenery and quickly concluded that the bedroom was unoccupied. It was where he came to fuck.

  “Is that an issue?” Rafeeq had lowered his briefs and began stroking his dick as he watched her from a few feet away.

  “The sheets aren’t. The mattress below is. Swimming in other women’s juices isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  “I’m no virgin, baby.” Rafeeq chuckled, sensing that she’d figured him out.

  This girl was unbelievable. While others didn’t care where he took them as long as the night ended with his dick up their spine, not Hampsher. Meticulous, she paid special attention to detail.

  “Where’s your room?”

  “You going to put up a fuss about being in the guest bedroom?”

  “No. We’re simply changing locations.”

  Standing from the bed, Hampsher glided past Rafeeq, walking through his loft as if she owned the place. He watched her, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find his bedroom. Her attempt would be comical.

  From the guest bedroom, he continued to gaze at her backside. Rafeeq’s dick fell from his large hand as he watched Hampsher hover over the empty space in his hallway. Stepping forward, she pressed into the wall until his bedroom door slid open and exposed his personal pod.

  This bitch here. Rafeeq scrambled behind Hampsher, following her into his headquarters. He reached forward and snatched Hampsher backward. His nostrils flared as the two stared each other down.

  “You don’t run shit in here. Got that?”

  “When my health is involved, I…”

  Hampsher was silenced by Rafeeq’s forcefulness. He spun her around until she was facing the wall. He used his legs to spread hers apart and squatted. Producing a wad of saliva, Rafeeq spat it on her pretty pink pussy before lifting up again. The sound of Hampsher panting brought an animalistic craving to the forefront as he nearly tore her in half upon his entrance.

  “Oh shit.” Hampsher buckled at the knees, but Rafeeq caught her before she could plummet.

  “Fuck.” Rafeeq swore for more reasons than he’d liked to. He’d went against every code in his book by entering Hampsher without coverage. Since his virginity had been snipped, every sex session he’d indulged in was protected. Rafeeq had never felt bare pussy, and it would soon send him spiraling.

  Taking full advantage of Rafeeq’s moment of weakness, Hampsher promised to worry about the elephant in the room after she was counting the stars she’d see from her self-induced orgasm that was approaching even without movement. Adjusting herself and becoming acquainted with the girth of Rafeeq, Hampsher pulled her weight forward and then back again.

  Forward and then back again.

  “Wait. Wait.”

  Rafeeq found his tongue and began to protest her movements. His toes were disfigured and curled to the point of pain. The mushiness of her walls was pulling him toward the pinnacle with promises of unraveling him entirely.

  Hampsher cared less, desperate for her undoing. She continued to stroke him with the lips of her pussy, squeezing her muscles and massaging his dick as she grinded. Completely unaware of the rupture she would soon cause, Hampsher became lost somewhere between oblivion and sensational.

  “Stop that shit,” Rafeeq requested. His semen summoned toward the head of his dick and threatening to spill. Grabbing Hampsher by the hips, he disabled her movements.

  Unfortunately, her time had come, and she was mounting beautifully.

  “Oooooh! Fuck! I’m cumming,” she groaned low and hardly noticeable.

  As her pussy contracted, it began extracting Rafeeq’s nut from him. Unable to do much else, he clinched Hampsher’s sides and forewarned her through grunts and whispers. He was unhappy with her behavior and would see to it that she paid for her disobedience.

  “You’re so fucking hardheaded. You’re going to pay for this shit.” Rafeeq snatched Hampsher’s neck backward by her long, wavy hair.

  “Uh…” she moaned from the pain. “Rafeeq.”

  “Shut the fuck up. Get down there and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

  “I don’t s…”

  “You’re going to start sucking dick today.” He refused to even let her finish her sentence before pulling out of her and forcing her down to her knees. His grip never loosened on her hair, giving her no other choice but to submit to his will.

  “You on birth control or some shit?” Rafeeq asked, making Hampsher look up at him.

  “No.”

  “After tonight. Get on it.”

  “This is just sex, Rafeeq. After tonight—”

  “After tonight my ass. The way that pussy feel, we in a relationship already.”

  “Rafee—”

  Perfect. Hampsher’s mouth was wide open with disbelief, giving Rafeeq access to her throat. He eased his slimy dick into her mouth and watched as she tried to accommodate his size.

  Impossible, he thought.

  “Relax.” Finally loosening his grip, Rafeeq became the instructor that Hampsher needed desperately. Her body had tensed, giving him little leeway. “Hampsher, you must loosen up if... Fuck it.”

  Bending, Rafeeq helped Hampsher up to her feet. With a pussy as powerful as hers, he could let the lack of dick sucking slide for the night. Once they were facing one another, he stared down at her quivering body.

  “What’s the matter?” Concern etched his tone.

  Hampsher, as bold and fearless as she was, had withered and was unrecognizable. There wasn’t much, but there was something between the two of them. It didn’t matter that they’d just met a few hours earlier.

  Confusion caused a misalignment within Hampsher. Her soul, the one that had been hidden under piles of dust, had been awakened and was eager to join forces with one of its kind. The loneliness was enduring until a brush with something of its resemblance.

  “I can’t do this.” Hampsher cowered, a trait that was absent from her body since the day of her mother’s death. “I should go.”

  “It’s okay. We can omit that…” Rafeeq brushed her bushy hair from her face.

  “No. Not that.” Hampsher shook her head. “This. I can’t do this.”

  Hampsher was fearful of the ignited flame that rumbled in her belly. Even having never been in love, she understood that this wasn’t it. It was too sudden and too potent. It was something deeper. Something much more frightening and something that she wanted to take cover from. It surpassed the emotions attached to the L word and all that she’d witnessed and seen of it.

  But what was it? She had no clue and prayed that whatever was brewing would disengage and set her free from temporary captivity.

  Uniting souls. That’s what it was and the revelation stripped Hampsher of the shield she’d been secure behind for years. Suddenly, she felt exposed. Her clothes had been removed long before her exposure was brought about. Standing in front of Rafeeq, the self-proclaimed king, she disintegrated.

  “I must go,” she assured herself and tried stepping forward.

  “You been running all ya life, Hampsher. I can see the emptiness that’s about to swallow you whole.”

  Many misunderstood Rafeeq, mistaking him for a cold-blooded demon. Truthfully, he was as ruthless as one made him. He inherited the hustle of his father and the heart of his mother—a deadly combination. On his best days, he was as mellow as an elder waiting for their time to pass. But, when needled, he was beastly without the possibility of being tamed.

  “You know nothing of what you speak.” Hampsher was desperate to convince herself because there w
as no swindling Rafeeq.

  “Then stay the night. Prove it to me, and I’ll set you free by morning.”

  “What’s it to you anyway?” Hampsher pouted.

  “I made a promise that I want to keep. Word is bond. Plus, I’d chase ya ass down the street for a round two since you cheated the first time.” Rafeeq leaned forward and tried placing his lips on top of Hampsher’s, but she maneuvered in time for him to catch her cheek instead.

  Rafeeq didn’t miss the play but chose to focus on lifting her from the ground and lowering her onto his dick. Hampsher clinched his skin as she sank down onto his pole. It would be the night that they both broke their personal rules and got acquainted with limitless intimacy.

  The peddling of feet stirred Rafeeq from his slumber. The raging sun played its part as well. Without opening his eyes, Rafeeq tightened his grip on the pistol his hand was wrapped around underneath his pillow. Swinging around, he held the gun midair with every intention to blast.

  “Mr. Jones.” Mano lifted his hand in air.

  “Mano,” Rafeeq groaned while lowering his weapon. “What you doing here this damn early?”

  “I came to wake you, sir. It is past twelve, and your father called me to question if you were awake. And… uh… I also came to see your guest out, but it looks like that won’t be necessary.”

  Immediately, thoughts of the previous night flooded Rafeeq’s memory. Hampsher. He flipped himself over toward the area she’d occupied after a second round of bliss. Her absence caused a panging in his abdomen area that was unexpected and inexplicable. Perplexed, he advised Mano to return his father’s call and assure him that they’d meet the following day.

  The pecking at the window urged Hampsher from her comfort. She lay across her white sheets, inhaling the freshness of the bakery across the way. With her eyes closed, she savored the sweet memories of morning with her mother while attempting to override new ones that she’d made most recently.

  The thought of him haunted her each night since she crept from his bed in the wee hours to return to her grandparents' home afraid that she’d wake to a craving even stronger than the one she’d given into the night of their night of passion. That was eight days ago, and nothing had changed. Even though he was miles and miles away, she could sense his presence. It was strong on that particular morning. Hampsher’s body was still in a trance and fixated on the justice he had brought to it during their brief encounter.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m coming.” Hampsher made her way toward the window to lift it a bit more to allow everyone inside.

  As the cats piled in one by one, Hampsher dedicated a special few seconds to each in order to offer hugs and snuggles. She hadn’t seen them since the day she’d departed. “I’ve been waiting for you all.”

  Hampsher proceeded toward the kitchen, displaying every feature God had loaned her during her time on Earth. She continued peeping behind her as she spoke to the little ones while they followed her steps.

  “I was expecting you yesterday. Did you think I wasn’t back?”

  Warm milk.

  Soft food.

  Large bowl of water.

  The cats were set for the morning, allowing Hampsher to put a start to her day. With bare feet, she tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. Long after she’d emptied it, Hampsher remained on the toilet as she skimmed through Milk and Honey to find a few poetic references to help her through the morning.

  It was simple, and it was short but very meaningful. The four-line poem brought the least beat of solace to her limbs, and that was all that she craved. After handling her hygiene, Hampsher slid into a mono-piece that was gray in color and cotton in fabric. Strappy and thin, the closest to naked she was, the better she felt.

  Some days, she considered claiming her tribe and celebrating nudity as the nudist. But she understood that society would forever have their noses flared and lips upturned at the thought of it. Shamefully, Hampsher understood that it was partially, if not solely, due to their bodily insecurities. If everyone was walking around with the body they fantasized about, then it would be hell trying to keep everyone clothed.

  “Little rascals.”

  Of course, everyone had scattered, leaving Hampsher to her lonesome again. She cleaned their dishes and replaced them on the counter before settling for an apple and a banana. Hand folded across her chest, she stood in the window and watched the day progress. It was no ordinary night. In addition to her performance in hours, Hampsher had other plans.

  Avenge her death through life, appease your grandparents, and keep him off of your damn mind, Hampsher.

  A new task had been added to the mixture.

  “Mr. Jones, your father awaits you.”

  Rafeeq rushed up the stairs of the private jet, palms sweating, and nerves rattled. It was time. Reign would be welcoming a baby girl in a matter of hours, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. As promised, his father kept the plane gassed and ready for emergency flight when the time came.

  “Appreciate that.”

  “Heavy.” RahMeek engaged his son upon entry.

  “Pops, what’s good?”

  “Shit. I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

  “Pops, the flight only a split second. What I’m going to need you for?”

  Shrugging, RahMeek patted Rafeeq on the shoulder and headed for the back of the cabin. Rafeeq took a seat on the right side of the craft behind the table that he sat at fairly often. The top was wood grain, complementing the brown cover he’d placed on his MacBook Pro.

  After situating himself, Rafeeq connected his devices to the in-flight Wi-Fi and tossed his Nike Airmax 95s on the table top. His cell caused his skin to glow from the lighting as he accessed the private database that his family used to retrieve information that wasn’t available through a public search. With his busy week behind him, Rafeeq could finally put the effort needed into the research that he wanted.

  Hampsher ______. The space for her last name was empty.

  “Mikel… Mikel,” Rafeeq repeated. “Wells.” He recalled.

  Hampsher Wells. He filled the space behind Hampsher’s name that was previously blank. In addition, Rafeeq entered her possible dimensions to produce better and more narrowed results. Within a few seconds, his screen had transformed, and there was a plethora of information on the infamous Hampsher Wells, the talented violinist and vocalist.

  The news was surprising to Rafeeq but not unbelievable. As he combed through the videos of her on stage at one particular club, his skin prickled from the bumps that rose at the sound of her voice. There was so much pain and emphasis. It was agonizing to watch.

  Clearing the screen of her vocally expressing the hurt that someone had blatantly caused, he redirected himself and tried for social media accounts. There were none. She wasn’t interested in the social clout, or so it seemed. She wasn’t like the others, which piqued Rafeeq’s interest even more.

  The most he was able to see of her was the footage from the club that she frequented on Fridays. His soul was soothed at the sight of the New York address listed on the club’s flyer and the home address he’d located on her. His plans shifted immediately, not that he had many anyway besides attending the birth of his niece.

  Recording the necessary information to touch base, he exited the screen and prepared for a smooth landing. New York was simply a blink away. Their air time was at an all-time low, which was appreciated during stressful times as such. The quicker they were at Reign’s side, the better.

  She was the spitting image of her mother. Kas was only five hours old with the brightest, boldest eyes a little one could possibly acquire. She was wide awake, neck showing signs of strength that were absent in most newborns, but she was partially a Jones. It was only right that she outperformed others. It was in their genes, a part of their heritage.

  “Feeq, I know it’s your time, but can I have her for a second. She didn’t feed earlier, and I want to try again.” Reign was afraid to even ask for her own baby, knowin
g how Uncle Feeq was with the children. Reign’s first born, Kree, was no exception.

  “Yeah, love. I have a few moves to make anyway. I’ll be back for Little Miss Kas in the morning.” Rafeeq stood from his seat, handed his sister the baby, and stretched his limbs as he watched her head toward the nursery.

  It was refreshing seeing Reign’s face. It always had been. They didn’t get to spend as much time as either would prefer due to their schedules conflicting with Reign’s role as a wife and mother as well as them living in different cities. As Rafeeq watched his mother’s twin saunter away, his heart swelled with pride.

  Even as the younger brother, he treated Reign as if she was the baby of the two. Since a young age, he felt the need to shelter her although she could carry her own. With her husband, Kierce, in her life as well as their cousin Roc, the task had been delegated, leaving a void that he hadn’t recognized was present until Hampsher walked into his office a week ago.

  “Be careful, Feeq.” Reign tossed a warning over her shoulder.

  She was superhuman. Just four hours earlier, she was calmly pushing with family at her side. Kas was born in the comfort of the Huffington’s residence surrounded by water and an insane amount of love. The midwife had warned Reign about rest, but she was up, trying to be sure that the family was comfortable. She didn’t have plans for anyone to budge. Rafeeq was surprised that she hadn’t given him any fuss about leaving.

  The spot was called Natives, and it was tucked into the smallest corner that Union Square had ever seen. A few people stood outside waiting to gain entrance as the security reiterated the fact that the small hole in the wall was at capacity. Everyone was waiting to see H, the stage name that Hampsher had adopted. The fourth Friday of the month was more of the same being that Hampsher didn’t perform the third Friday due to her time with family.