Going Down: An Erotic Tale of Murder

by Glenn, Roy

  After the band finished their set, I ordered another drink. My last outing and the outcome was still on my mind. So much so, that I was sitting there sizing up potential prey. Even on nights when I have no intension of killing, anytime I’m in a bar, I still have an eye out for prey. There are certain things I look for in prey, certain tell-tell signs that let me know that they would make excellent prey.

  That brought me back to Mr. Kickass, as I’ve grown fond of calling him. I still couldn’t get past the fact the he presented himself as no different from any other prey. And maybe that was it. Even though I didn’t see it coming, he knew exactly what he had planned for me, and that wasn’t his first time. If he had presented himself as an aggressor or given any hint that he was Mr. Kickass, I, and no other woman with any brains, would go anywhere with him.

  Now that I had settled that matter, it left me with two unanswered questions. One which I’ve been avoiding, more like hiding from, for my whole life.

  There was something he said to me that got me thinking. “I knew as soon as I saw your fine ass that you liked it rough.”

  Was there something about the way I presented myself that made me his prey? Maybe I couldn’t have killed him. Maybe I could have asked him some questions first. I laughed. I could hear it now. “Excuse me, Mr. Kickass. Before I kill you, would you mind explaining what it was about me that made you think that I enjoyed getting my ass kicked?”

  Just then, I noticed that a man had sat down in the stool next to me. He was reasonably good looking. He had prey written all over him. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I looked at the guy for what seemed like a long time, but wasn’t, before I finally said something. “You know, any other night I would have accepted your offer, and invited you to join me; and before the night was done, I would have taken you somewhere and had my way with you. But not tonight. Tonight I don’t feel like being bothered. And believe me, I’m doing you a favor.”

  “You sure?”

  “That I don’t want to be bothered, or that I’m doing you a favor?”

  “Yeah,” the prey said.

  “Believe me, it’s both. Now run along, please, for you own good—run along,” I said, and shooed him away like a little boy. He mumbled something under his breath and sulked away.

  I looked the bartender. “Bring me another Kamikaze.”

  While the band came back onstage and began their third set, I faced up to the thing I’ve been avoiding: something that happened to me that night with Mr. Kickass. Other than the ass kicking he dealt me; that was the best sex I ever had. He fucked the shit out of me and for a minute there, I actually thought that I was going to have an orgasm without killing him.

  There were two possibilities: One, I actually liked or needed to get my ass kicked, or he was just the best lover I even had. I preferred to think that he was just that good. The idea that I liked getting my ass kicked just wasn’t something I was willing to accept. But I had to leave it open as a possibility.

  So now what?

  I decided that a test was in order. No. I’m not going to ask some man to kick my ass before he fucks me. Having sex with a man that I was planning on killing was more what I had in mind. All I had to do was find a man with some skills, which as you know, is easier said than done. It was too bad Tavarus went home to sleep. I figure that any man that can call and wake up a woman at two in the morning for a booty call must have some skills, or she’d hang up on him. I thought about Chris. I liked him, thought he was sexy, but we were doing business together and I didn’t think mixing the two was a good idea.

  So what now?

  I saw this really fine guy at the other end of the bar. He was talking to a woman and she was falling all over every word he said. I kept watching, and then he looked over and noticed me. From then on, while she was talking he was looking at me. I went into my routine. Before long, he had excused himself from her and was on his way over to talk to me.

  Now, if there is one thing I can do—it’s get a man to leave a bar with me. Once I had him hooked, I made a promise to myself. I am not going to kill him. And to make sure that happened, I did several things that were outside of my routine. I stayed at the bar and talked to him, and allowed him to buy me drinks. Normally I would have moved him to a dark or secluded spot in the bar to cut down on people seeing us together. When we left the bar, we walked out together; and to top it off, I left my car and rode to his place with him.

  When we got to his place, he led me straight to the bedroom. I stopped in front of the bed and began to loosen his tie, and dropped it on the floor. I unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his pants. He quickly stepped out of his shoes while I took off his shirt and his pants. I looked into his eyes while I slowly pulled down his underwear. He was lost in my eyes, and I was lost in the size of his dick. I sat him down on the bed and did a seductive little dance as I removed my clothes.

  When I was naked, I laid down on the bed next him. He ran his hand across my breasts and touched them, held them, squeezed them, and teased them with his tongue. He slid his tongue slowly around my nipples, coming close but never touching them. I spread my legs and stroked his dick while he fingered my clit. I felt his dick getting harder and harder. I took him in my mouth and he moaned his approval of my skills. With my other hand, I reached out and slowly began to massage and fondle his balls. I licked up and down his shaft, sucked his head, and went down on him again. Taking almost all of him into my mouth.

  When he couldn’t take any more, he grabbed my head, pulled me up, and pulled me toward him. He kissed my neck and chest passionately, and I continued to stroke his erection. He continued kissing his way down my body, fingering my pussy and sucking on my nipples. I laid on my back with my eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his tongue darting across my chest from nipple to nipple. He began gliding his hands across my skin to my now dripping wet pussy. My excitement built as he gently moved my body so he could taste me.

  He spread my lips while he made circles around my clit. He slid his tongue inside me and sucked my lips. I felt my body tremble a little while he sucked my clit and licked it with the tip of his tongue. I began thinking, hoping that maybe this would be the night that I would orgasm without murder, and put that part of my life behind me. He sucked my clit and it grew harder. He ran his tongue along my lips and proceeded to lick and suck my clit. I began to feel my body convulse, but suddenly, he raised his head and thrust himself into me.

  I looked at him, his eyes were closed, and he was pumping away. I could tell by the way he was breathing that he was about to come. I pushed him off of me. “I’m not ready for you to cum yet,” I said. And he looked at me like I had lost my mind. I started to get my gun, hold it to his head, and tell him to get back between my thighs and finish the job. But I promised to play nice tonight.

  I repositioned myself, straddled his torso, and lowered myself onto him, taking his erection into the wetness between my thighs. I thought about killing him, but I tried to force the thoughts from my mind. I kept my movements agonizingly slow and deliberate, in an attempt to heighten my pleasure. Then I closed my eyes and began to fuck him hard. In my mind, I tried to picture myself with my hands wrapped around his throat, like I was strangling him. I fucked him harder and harder. I felt him getting harder; I opened my eyes. Once again, I could tell by his look and the way he was breathing that he was going to cum. I didn’t want him to cum inside me, so I rolled off of him. Once again, he looked at me like I was crazy for stopping him. It was like he wanted to get a nut and take me back to my car. Fuck whether I got mine or not.

  I crawled around on the bed, like the animal in heat that I was, and hoped he’d take the hint. Finally, he crawled over behind me and ran his hands along my ass. I spread my legs, fingered my clit, and played with my lips. He got up on his knees and entered me from behind. I began to squirm as I took in every inch of him and began winding my hips. He let go of my hips and allowed me to move my body the way I wanted to. Every once in a while, he would g
rab and squeeze one of my cheeks;, but I got the feeling that he was done with me and just hoped I would cum, so he could take me back to my car. Good luck with that one, I thought and began to buck harder and harder.

  He finally got into it and leaned forward, grabbed me by the shoulders, and began to pound furiously on my ass until my body started to tremble. “Ooooooooh shit!” I yelled; but instead of finishing me off, he decided to get fancy with it. He pulled out of me and reached between my legs and fingered my clit with one hand, and squeezed my breast with the other. Shit! I was almost there! He got into long stroke, pulling almost completely out of me, and slowly easing himself back inside my pussy. Then he pulled out and held on to his dick. “Ooooh, shit! I’ma cum!”

  “No!” I yelled, but it was too late. He was jerking his load on my ass.

  I got out of bed and took a shower. When I came out, he said to give him a few minutes and he would take me back to my car. “That’s all right. I’ll call a cab,” I said, and took out my cell phone. I was so frustrated that I didn’t even wait until the cab got there before I left. When I was dressed, I left and waited outside. During the cab ride back to my car, I thought about my night.

  “Damn! I almost got one, again.” But now I was even more determined to make it happen.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zack

  “Dean Cabot, please.”

  “Mr. Cabot is in a meeting. Would you like his voice mail?”

  “No, I’ve already left him a message, thank you.” I’ve left him several messages. Actually, I’ve left him two messages a day for the last few days. All of my phone calls go unreturned, all of my e-mails are answered with the same “Your proposal is still being considered by management.”

  I’ve gone over every minute of my presentation a thousand times, and for the life of me, I can’t find anything that I could have done any better. I knew what was going on. I knew it from the moment I set foot in that office. It began with the look I got from the sister at the receptionist’s desk. She looked at me like she’d never seen a Black man before. From there it only got worse. When Dean came out to greet me, he stopped dead in his tracks, mouth wide open. And the look on his face said it loud and clear, “My God, you’re Black.”

  It was a done deal over the phone. The presentation was just a formality. But in person, his entire personality changed. There was no more talk about meeting women, going to the beach or having a drink to close the deal. Dean’s conversation was polite and formal, no more “dude, this,” and “dude, that.”

  We sat in his office and talked for a while. Whenever he could get by with a one-word answer, he did. Then he escorted me back to the lobby to wait until it was time for my presentation. I sat in the lobby the better part of an hour, waiting. Every once and a while Syeda, the receptionist, would smile and make conversation.

  Finally, Dean returned and escorted me to the conference room where I was met by the sight of twelve angry-looking white men. No introductions and no handshaking, just get this over with. Which I did; got right down to it. While I spoke, they sat and listened attentively. Some made notes, others just nodded. I’d done enough of these things to know they were all paying attention and were interested in what I had to say. Once I’d finished my presentation, I asked if anybody had any questions. There was complete silence in that room.

  Finally, Dean asked one question; one that I’d answered for him in one of our more interactive conversations. After which, he thanked me for coming and said they’d be in touch. Before he got the “you” in “Thank you,” out of his mouth, half the men were on their feet, headed for the door.

  While I gathered my materials together, the sister from the front desk came into the conference room.

  “How’d it go?” Syeda asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t exactly bring the house down, huh?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Well, don’t take it personally, they’re a tough crowd.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said as I continued to pack up.

  “I’m here to show you out.”

  “Make sure I don’t steal anything?”

  “It ain’t like all that.” Syeda looked around to make sure no one else was listening. “I just thought that somebody should see you out. Show you some respect.”

  As we walked to the elevator, she asked me how long I would be in town and made it known, without actually saying it, that she was available for dinner that evening.

  I took the bait.

  After dinner and her second margarita, she felt comfortable enough to tell me that she was their “Token Negro. There are no other Black people working in the corporate office. Just little old me. And I’ve only been there three months. It was hard when I first started. I got the same looks you got—whispers and shaking heads, you know. I walked in the bathroom one day and overheard two women talking about me. I was so mad I didn’t know whether to kick their asses or quit. Or kick their asses and then quit. But I talked to my father and he reminded me what I was there for.”

  “Why do you put up with it?”

  “I’m in school working on my masters at night. It’s close to campus and besides, they pay damn good. And I need the money.”

  That was great for her, making that mone,y I mean. But I was sure now that there would be no money for me.

  After dinner, I accepted Syeda’s invitation to come by her apartment for a drink. After the second drink, and very little effort, I talked Syeda out of her clothes and in to bed. I thought sex would make me feel better, but my heart wasn’t in it.

  That was a week ago, now every day Al asks me if I’ve heard anything from Bandexx. And my answer is always the same: “Still waiting for their board to approve it.”

  But I knew better, there would be no deal because I’m Black. And without that deal there’s no chance of me being salesman of the year. Ben was cruising to a comfortable lead. And to top it off, I had a meeting this afternoon with Al to discuss it.

  When I got to Al’s office he was waiting for me. Standing in the hallway outside of his office talking to Ben. As soon as they saw me, Ben walked away. “Come on in, Zack, have a seat.”

  “I’ll be right there, Al. Just give me a minute to get my notes.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Zack. Just come on in and close the door,” Al said, and now I was worried.

  Meetings with Al never begin unless you have all your account notes. Al hates it when you answer any of his questions with the words “I don’t know.”

  Always, always be prepared when you walk into a meeting. I knew something wasn’t right. I sat down and looked at Al; he was flipping through some papers. After a minute or two, he dropped the papers on the desk. “Shit,” he said and looked at me. “Tell me about your trip to Bandexx, Zack. How did they receive you?”

  “I thought they were very receptive to the proposal, they didn’t ask many questions, but I got the feeling that they were interested. You saw my presentation, Al. I don’t know why—.”

  Al held up his hand to stop me. “That’s not what I’m asking you, Zack. I’m sure the presentation went fine. What I want to know, Zack, is how they received you. Unfortunately, I think you know where I’m going with this.”

  “Unfortunately, I do.”

  “I talked to Dean Cabot this afternoon. He said that his board simply wasn’t impressed with your presentation.”

  “That’s bullshit, Al, and you know it!”

  “I know that, Zack. I know your presentations are always excellent.” Al got up from behind his desk and stared out the window. “I knew that something was wrong when he said that they were still interested in doing business with us.”

  “What!”

  “Yeah,” Al said, turning to face me. “Dean said that they would welcome the opportunity to listen to our presentation again. Perhaps I could send another salesman that would be more to the boards liking.”

  “Don’t send any more niggers out her
e, Al, and we can do business.”

  Al smiled and laughed a little. “He didn’t come right out and say that, but that was the point I got from it.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “I’m sorry, Zack—sorry that things like this still go on. I hate to do this to you, Zack, but I’m turning the account over to Ben. I’m sending him out there in the morning. You’ll still get the commission for the sale if it goes through, plus a percentage of the future sales. Turn all your Bandexx materials over to me and we’ll brief Ben on it.”

  “Yes, sir.” I stood up and stared at Al for a second or two, then I started for the door. I was beaten, all the way around, I was beaten. “You’ll have the materials and my resignation before I leave today.” And closed the door behind me.

  I sat in my office, separating what was mine from what was theirs. What was worth keeping and what I was trashing. I typed up my resignation and was about to call Angelique and break the news to her, when Ben appeared at the door. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Not at all, Ben, come on in. The Bandexx materials are over there on the desk,” I said, without looking at him.

  “Zack, I wanna say something to you. It’s probably gonna sound like a credit to your race speech, but I’m gonna go with it anyway,” Ben said and he sat down. “When you started working here nobody thought you would last a week. Hell, we even started a pool on how long you’d last.”

  I looked up and smiled. “How long did you think I’d last, Ben?”

  “Seven months, twenty-three days.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Don’t be. All you did was come in here and out work and out hustle, every swinging dick in there. Earned everyone’s respect.”

  “Who won?”

  “Al. The day he hired you, he told me that one day you would give me a run for my money. And I’ll be damned if you didn’t. He saw something in you none of the rest of us saw. I didn’t think you would. I couldn’t see past your color. And I’m ashamed of myself for that.” Ben stood up and extended his hand. “I respect what you’re doing here. But I wish you would reconsider, Zack. Be a shame to lose you because of some peoples ignorance.”