“Yeah, if you say so.” He paused then blurted out, “I can’t go out. I have a reputation to maintain. I can’t be seen hanging out with no skeet-skeet.”
“What?” Momentarily, she was blown away, too stunned to speak. When she found her voice, she was livid. “Who the fuck are you calling a skeet-skeet? Nigga fuck you.”
“I would say the same thing, but looks like you’ve already been fucked in so many different ways,” he said. “Ain’t too much more a nigga can do to that.”
Della just slammed her cell shut, disconnecting the call. She couldn’t believe Paul had turned on her. She thought she knew him better than that. Men were such assholes. He didn’t want to be seen hanging out with a skeet-skeet? He hung out with his baby mama, a known bust-it baby who swung around a pole for a living. Who the fuck did he think he was? Damn him and his holier than thou attitude. She didn’t need his lame ass anyway. He thought that he was so high and mighty because he was a preacher’s son. Little did he know, his preaching father was a closet homosexual. The good pastor sucked more dicks and tooted his ass up more than a gay porn star.
She thought about showing up at Paul’s house and fucking up his car tires. He took pride and joy in that piece of shit. Maybe she’d carve “Bitch Ass Nigga” in his new paint job. It would bring him down a few notches. How the hell did that motherfucker get the nerve to try her? He was a dead fuck anyway, with his limp dick. He couldn’t even eat pussy the correct way.
Della’s nerves were strung tight and she needed to relieve some tension. The only way she knew how to do that was by having sex. She didn’t worry about the who or where, those factors were irrelevant.
She often frequented nightclubs seeking out
unsuspecting men because inflicting pain on them brought her immense pleasure. The majority of the men she met were nameless. She had no preference. Race, color, or creed was of no importance.
Usually, she went to Pinellas Park, Clearwater or Tampa. She didn’t want anyone to recognize her so she stayed away from St. Petersburg. Besides, she was sick of the men in St. Petersburg.
She took a shower and slipped on something sexy. She sprayed perfume between her golden globes, which looked edible in the push up bra. After dabbing some behind her ears, she grabbed her purse and headed out.
She felt like a feline on the prowl. That night, the victim was a ruggedly handsome, white businessman. He resembled a younger, sculpted Billy Ray Cyrus. She figured he was down when he kept eyeing her as she stood at the bar. She was dressed provocatively, shedding her drab black ensemble for the time being. Instead, she wore a hot pink Baby Phat tube dress with pink and black, Baby Phat kitten heels. She looked damn good and knew it.
She wasn’t shy in the least. She walked over to the man and struck up a conversation. It didn’t take long to make her intentions known.
“Do you want to stay in this dull club, watching a bunch of old geezers dance to the Beatles, or would you rather go have some fun with a horny, hot bitch like me?” she asked boldly, sucking seductively on an ice cube.
“I’d like to help cool you down,” the guy said, licking his lips in anticipation.
“What are you waiting on? Let’s bounce!”
After finishing their drinks, they left the nightclub together. She followed him in her car and they ended up at an upscale hotel that he paid for with a credit card. When they got to the room the idiot wanted to talk. He was slightly drunk, slurring his words. Conversation was the last thing on her mind. He kept up the jibber jabber until it irritated her nerves. She swiftly backhand slapped him across the mouth.
“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” she snarled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. She shoved him back onto the bed and straddled him.
“Oh, o-okay.” He was wide-eyed with excitement and a bit of fear. He began to unbutton his shirt. She didn’t give him time to undress completely, just unzipped his fly and let his hard dick jump out. It was large and magnificent; making her mouth water. Her pussy ached and throbbed. She was ready to fuck. She wore no panties for easy access. She rolled a condom on his meat and quickly eased her moistness down on him.
She rode him fast and hard until she felt sweet release. As she came, she bit into his shoulder and clawed his back. He yelped in pain, but she didn’t care. Let him try to explain the welts and bite marks to his wife. He’d failed to take off the wedding band on his left hand. Seeing the shiny ring incensed her. She grabbed a fist full of his blond hair and jerked on it.
“Take it easy,” he wailed.
“Shut up, bitch.” She bit him again.
Cheaters deserved to be punished. She not only pulled his hair, she choked him and slapped him around. It seemed the more violent she got the more it turned him on. It excited her to have such power and control. She could feel her juices running down the insides of her thighs.
She scooted her body up and sat on his face. She grounded her mound against his lips until she exploded again. She released all of her pent-up anger and sexual frustration on the stranger – and he loved it.
Chapter Nine
Shae was having an awful day. Two of the tellers called in sick, leaving her to fill in that role as well as handle irate customers on the phone.
For the life of her, she didn’t understand why people wrote checks when they knew they didn’t have enough money in their accounts to cover the funds. Then they blamed the bank when their account was charged an insufficient funds fee, and wanted the charges reversed.
She thought that things couldn’t get any worse, but she was wrong. When she returned to her office to take a much needed break, her phone rang. It was the private investigator she’d hired. He told her it was imperative that she come to his office as soon as possible. Sensing that it would be bad news, she took the rest of the day off from work. She didn’t want to return in a foul mood and curse someone out. Some of the customers could really try your patience. One woman had already threatened to come to the bank and beat her ass. Today would be the wrong day for her to make that threat again.
Arriving at the private investigator’s office a little after noon, she had to wait until the detective returned from lunch. She took a seat in the waiting area and flipped through some of the magazines on the table. Nothing held her attention. It was hard to concentrate on reading when she was so worried about her marriage falling apart.
It wasn’t long before the detective arrived. He greeted her as he unlocked his office. “Come on inside.”
Shae put the magazine back, got up and followed him into the office. He indicated the chair facing his desk and she sat in it.
“Unfortunately, this is one of the unpleasant aspects of my job,” he said reaching into his desk drawer and removing a large manila envelope.
“Your assumptions about your husband may be correct. You decide.” He held the envelope out to her. Swallowing deeply, she took it.
Shae waited until she got home before she opened the package. When she saw the incriminating photos, her heart sank. She had a good cry then decided the course of action she would take.
She called Larry only to be informed by his secretary that he was out to lunch. It didn’t take long for her to find out exactly where.
On the way to the restaurant, she thought about what she’d do to Larry’s deceitful ass once she confronted him. The last time they’d attempted to make love, his dick couldn’t get hard. She asked him if he was seeing someone else and he told her no.
She should have known better. He was working late seven days out of the week. There wasn’t that much overtime in the whole world. No one loved or valued their job that much.
She’d been a fool for giving him her heart and trusting him not to crush it. She thought he was different because he didn’t try to control her. He pretty much let her run the show. She’d gotten so used to having her way in the relationship. Larry was so laid back and easy to get along with. Before Della moved in, things had been just breezy.
Leave it up to Della to
fuck things up. Her trifling sister aroused her suspicions. Those suspicions pushed Larry right into the arms of another woman. She couldn’t wait to find out who the home-wrecker was.
When she arrived at the restaurant, she thought about charging into the establishment, finding Larry and punching him dead in his nose gristle. The unlucky woman with him would get bitch-slapped.
She had to calm her racing thoughts and count to ten—a few times. Once rational, she decided to just play it safe. She didn’t need to get arrested. It could cause her to lose her job at the bank. She’d worked too hard to let a criminal record set her back. She was no longer the ghetto, project chick that used to beat a bitch’s ass first and ask questions later.
She calmly entered and sat at a table where she could watch her husband and the hussy. They were so mesmerized with each other that they didn’t even notice her glaring at them. Seeing the woman he found more desirable than her made her blood pressure rise.
That lowdown motherfucker. No he ain’t with no damn Becky.
Shae continued to watch, fuming as she looked on. They looked so comfortable and familiar together—like a couple. They were talking and laughing, oblivious of the people around them.
When the woman reached over and caressed Larry on the cheek, that’s when she lost it. She got up and marched across the crowded restaurant, stopping in front of the couple.
“Larry, who is this bitch?” she demanded to know.
A startled Larry looked into his wife’s furious face.
“Um…Shae. What are you doing here?”
“Larry-” the lady began to speak, but before she could get another word out, Shae grabbed a handful of her blonde hair. The fact that the woman was white incensed her even further.
“Is this the bitch you’ve been fucking behind my back?” she asked. She stared into the woman’s frightened eyes. “Did he tell you that he’s married? I bet he did, but that didn’t stop your trifling ass. You just want a black dick. Whether it’s attached to a married man or not doesn’t concern you.”
“Shae, let go of her hair,” Larry said. “You’re causing a scene.” He knew not to even try to separate the two women, not with the dangerous glint in his wife’s eyes.
“I’ll cause more than a scene if you don’t tell me who this white, tramp is.”
“Ouch. Let go of me,” the woman wailed. She snatched her hair out of Shae’s hands and sat back, rubbing her scalp. “I should call the police. You assaulted me.” She reached for the cell phone that rested on the table near her purse.
“Shut up bitch before I really assault your ass,” Shae growled, and swept the cell phone to the floor. The woman scurried under the table to retrieve it.
Shae turned to Larry, eyes blazing. “Motherfucker, start talking.”
“Shae, you’re going to get us kicked out of this restaurant,” Larry said in embarrassment. The wait staff and servers whispered amongst themselves. Other customers looked on in anticipation, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Nigga, do I look like I give a fuck? Since you won’t tell me who this bitch is, I guess I’ll ask her.” Shae got in the woman’s face as soon as she’d retrieved her phone. “Bitch, who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Danielle,” she said. “I work with Larry.”
“I think you had a little more than work on your mind when you put your hands on my husband.”
“Shae, you misinterpreted that. It was nothing,” Larry tried to explain.
“I guess I’m misinterpreting these, too?” she snapped, and threw a stack of photos at him. They scattered across the tabletop. Larry picked one up, stared at it in disbelief. He picked up several more. There were numerous pictures of him and Danielle in uncompromising positions. All of them had been taken while they were at the office, allegedly working. There were photos of them massaging each other’s shoulders, different shots of them kissing, and hugging in the parking lot, Larry leaning into her car to give her a kiss. They were in his car. He was in the driver’s seat, and she was bending over from the passenger’s seat, obviously giving him a blow job.
“My God,” Danielle exclaimed, snatching up photo after photo. Seeing the proof, she couldn’t lie to save Larry. Her face turned crimson when she stared at the one depicting her going down on Larry.
“I – I can explain,” Larry stammered. He was caught and couldn’t deny it. He was the last person on earth to try and be deceptive. It just wasn’t in him. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Danielle and I want to be together. I was going to tell you. I swear.”
“When? Before or after you fucked the bitch?” She placed her hand on her hip and waited for his answer.
“Shae, we can discuss this at home. This isn’t the place,” he tried to rationalize.
“You better get your ass up and come home right now, before I catch a charge,” she warned.
He turned to his companion. “Danielle, I’m sorry. I’ll call you later. I have to go.”
“I understand. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart,” she said gently, giving him an encouraging smile. She then looked Shae up and down and smirked. The gleam in her eye said, “Don’t be mad at me because I took your black man.”
On the drive home, Shae regretted her decision to remain calm and not assault the white bitch. She should have snatched the head off that Malibu Barbie. She thought she was the shit, with her fake ass breasts and Botox treated lips. She wouldn’t be acting so high and mighty if Shae punctured that silicone with her fists. How smug she appeared, looking at Shae with contempt in her eyes. She wanted to turn around, find Danielle, and beat her black and blue.
Shae hit the brakes hard as she pulled into the driveway, causing a loud screeching. She stormed into the house, still seething. Larry parked behind her and entered more slowly. He glanced at her nervously. He took a seat on the couch, putting a good two feet between them.
“Shae, I didn’t sleep with her,” he said. Before he could blink, Shae slapped him across the face. The lick resounded throughout the silent house.
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” she hissed. She got up and went to sit on the love seat on the other side of the room.
“I can’t believe you struck me,” he said, holding his cheek. “What the fuck?” He looked at her with shock in his eyes.
“If you don’t pack your shit and get the fuck out of here, I’ll do more than strike you.”
“Shae, come on now. Let’s talk about this.”
“What the fuck do you have to say to me? I don’t want to hear it. How could you do it, Larry? Why?” She gazed at him with a wounded look in her eyes. His heart turned over.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “Danielle is just so…so different than you,” he tried to explain.
“Of course she is. She’s white,” she snapped. “What did she do, bring you quiche and spinach dip?” she asked sarcastically.
“That’s not nice.”
“I’m sure she sucked your dick just the way you like it, deep-throated it and everything.”
“Shae, come on. Let’s discuss this rationally.”
“I can’t be rational knowing that you’ve been getting down and dirty with some white trailer trash you work with,” she snapped.
“She’s not trailer trash,” he defended. “She lives in Tierra Verde.”
“Oh, that’s supposed to make a difference? So she’s a rich white bitch. Is that why you’re fucking her?”
“I’m not sleeping with her, Shae,” he insisted.
“Maybe you’re not, but judging by those pictures, it was only a matter of time before you did. When were you going to tell me? Or did you plan to play us both forever?”
Larry exhaled loudly. “I don’t know when I would have told you, but I would have said something. I’m not a cheater.” “You’re not a man either,” she hurled at him.
“That’s cold, Shae. I know that you’re hurting right now, but you don’t have to tear me down. That’s one of the main reasons I was attracted
to Danielle. She never says anything negative about me. She just accepts me for who I am, unconditionally.”
“Whoop tee fucking do. Should I give her a medal or better yet, the Skank White Dick Sucking Whore Award?”
Larry threw up his hands, shaking his head. There would be no reasoning with Shae while she was so angry. It was impossible. “Look, I’ll give you some time to cool down. When you want to discuss this in an adult like fashion, call me. I’ll pack some of my things,” he told her, getting up from the couch.
She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re just going to leave? Just like that?”
“Yes. You told me to get out,” he reminded her. “What else do you want me to do, Shae, grovel? I might not be the kind of man that beats a woman down, but I’ll be damn if I’m the kind that grovels. Fuck that.” He stalked from the room.
Shae fumed. He wasn’t even going to fight to save their marriage. Why would he just give up on her so easily? He must be eating that white woman’s pussy, Shae thought, and she put some type of voodoo on him.
If he’d fucked that white tramp, she could have him. She refused to be second behind another whore--black, White, Japanese, Asian or otherwise.
She contemplated following Larry into the bedroom and whipping him like a runaway slave. She was just that furious.
“What it do?” Toby walked into the house. “What’s up, Shae? You want some garlic crabs?” he asked. He carried a plastic bag with a couple of white Styrofoam containers inside. “I stopped by T & T and got some. They’re spicy hot, too, just the way you like them.”
“I don’t have an appetite,” she said lowly.
“What’s up? Did something happen?” He could tell she was upset because she sat with her arms crossed and her face was contorted.
“I just had a fight with Larry. He’s upstairs packing.”
“Why is he packing? Is he going on a business trip or something?”
Project Queen II Page 7
