Sunday Afternoon

She fucked in church and knew it was wrong, but after the first time, it wasn't that difficult to do. She knew she would fuck him long before it happened, but when it went down like it did, she was surprised. Choir rehearsal after Sunday morning service had just ended and she stayed around to help collect the choir books and fold chairs. He had dismissed his wife and child, saying he would meet them at home for dinner after going over some notes from today's rehearsal. She overheard, and tarried awhile, struggling with folding the folding chairs. He noticed she was there and the thought of them alone bore weight on his mind, and he worked quickly to make tracks out of there. She noticed the pace of his motion quicken and figured out how to extend their time alone together. 

"Brother Brown?"

"Yes, Sister Thomas?"

"For some reason I cannot get these chairs to fold. They are old and rusted and I don't have the strength to bend their joints. I still have 12 chairs to go. Can you help me?" Her tone belied her request, but what could he do?

"Sure Sister Thomas."

She watched as he made light of the work, folding and stacking chair after chair. "You sure are strong Brother Brown. I would have guessed you have just as difficult a time as I did."

"Some work, I suppose, is man's work Sister."

"I'm sure. Like helping a woman with the physical challenges her size and weight won't allow her to bear."

"Well that's one thing."

"Of course. There are many more. Physical labors are the obvious place where man carries the brunt of the work. But there are certainly other challenges a woman cannot handle alone."

He said nothing, so she continued. 

"I bet when your wife was in labor, you were right there for her. Wiping the sweat from her brow, feeding her ice chips, assuring her that she could get through it and that no matter what, you would be by her side. "

He looked up at Sister Thomas. How could she know?

He had been there during his wife's labor and had wiped the sweat pouring down her forehead and fed her ice chips. His excitement about seeing his newborn son urged him to look between his wife's legs during the final stages of labor. Things would never be the same between them after that. 

He bent the good sister over a folding chair and undid her skirt. While unbuckling his belt to free himself, he ripped a hole in her stockings and entered her from behind. Right there in the sanctuary, amongst the songbooks and under the eyes of the watchful Father, he fucked the good sister mercilessly. She smiled all the while, surprised at how well her tactic worked. It had only been a week since the Ladies' Tea, and she has sat next to Sister Brown in her big hat and collected all information volunteered. After explaining in great detail the discomfort of her labor and how her "dear Lemuel" was there for her through its entirety, Sister Brown leaned in and whispered to all those ladies unmarried and less knowledgeable of these things, "Childbirth is one of those things a man should not witness. It's like making love during that time of the month. Unsightly. A turn-off."

Brother Brown remembered the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach watching his son crown and he fucked Sister Thomas harder. Their moans and wails reverberated off of the sanctuary walls, like an acapella duet. It was the creak of a classroom door in the distance that brought Brother Brown back. The good sister felt him slow and bucked against him, encouraging him to finish. A few bucks of her ass was all it took and he finished, exhausted. 

He unfolded a chair, sat in it, and cried. It had been over an hour. An excuse had to be created for today and for every other Sunday he would need Sister Thomas' assistance with going over the notes for the day's choir practice. He cried for the feeling that overcame him that day his son was born, and for the relief he felt right now. 

Sister Thomas removed her ripped stockings, balled them up, and placed them in her purse. She then finished folding all of the remaining chairs and stacked them against the wall. She organized Brother Brown's notes, placed them in his briefcase, and propped it next to him. She surveyed the room, and satisfied that her work here was done, picked up her purse and her bible, and exited the sanctuary. 

Complicated Matter

Whenever I let my dick be my guide, I get into trouble.

Right now, my girl Kenya is having a baby, our baby, and I'm drowning myself in a bottle of Hennessy trying to pretend the shit is not happening. It's not that I don't care or that I am just a heartless son-of-a-bitch. It's just that working at this particular job has gotten me in more trouble as far as women go. And this baby is the last straw.

First it was Yesenia, the sexy Latina receptionist. Her accent use to fuck me up because it's so thick and I just wanted to hear her scream Papi! while I was beating those cheeks. Her pussy was good too - but she wanted to get married and that just couldn't happen. She eventually got married to the dude she'd been dating since high school and that got me off the hook with ease, though she can still throw an evil look a brotha's way.

Then it was Ms. Templeton, the Human Resources director. She's an older chick, but she still looks good and has some nice legs on her. She's so tall, I couldn't imagine her even looking at my ass. But one day, she summoned me to her office to discuss a change to my 401k contribution, and before I knew what was happening, I was in between them old legs. She had some nice titties for a woman in her early fifties and her pussy still had some snap to it too. But she was looking to get her groove back, and when I politely informed her that I was married and couldn't accompany her on a cruise to the Bahamas, she started tripping on me. I damn near had to sue her for sexual harassment when my paycheck started coming in short. We had it out one day after hours in the office, and I dicked her down one last time. Now we act like we don't know the other exists. It's childish, but when I tried to be nice, she couldn't handle it.

Lastly, there's Pam. Now that's a cool sista - she's been a good friend to a brotha. I didn't think much of her at first, just another woman in the office. Then one day HR sent us to a day-long conference to learn the a new, computerized payroll system. We thought it would be a bunch of us from the office, but it ended up being just the two of us. The conference was boring and the new system wasn't that new to us, and we ended up ditching after lunch and heading back to her place. I noticed she had a chess board and challenged her to a game. She couldn't play, so I offered to teach her, We spent the afternoon drinking and playing. Once she really understood the object of the game, she offered up a blunt and we continued to play. The mix of alcohol and herb had us open, and the next thing I knew, we were laying in her bed kissing. One thing led to another, and by that evening, we were friends with benefits. It's been that way ever since when it's convenient for the both of us. Pam doesn't like to be tied down to anyone, seeing as she is holding out for some brotha on the East Coast. With the Kenya situation, she's been real cool, formerly introducing us at first, and lending an ear throughout the matter. Now that I am in this predicament, she tells me to stay positive and support Kenya, but not to forget my commitment to my wife.

My wife. Yolanda, the love of my life since high school. I use to think there was no creature more beautiful than her. But after giving birth to our two boys, she packed on 75 extra pounds and had no intention of dropping it. After our second son was born, I wanted out of the relationship, but two things happened that made me stay. The first was Yolanda got a promotion at her job and the second was that she bought a big ass house for our family. I was kind of embarrassed that my woman was now the breadwinner, but realized it could make my life more plush since she was working longer hours. She asked me to marry her, and I hesitated because I know I still want out in the long run, but I knew it would make her feel more secure and guarantee a roof over my head. Besides, she had earned it, sticking with me through thick and thin, and giving me two sons. She puts up with so much of my shit, I was glad she still wanted to carry my last name. I know I can always count on Yolanda and for that, I never want to hurt her, but it seems inevitable since we haven't fucked consistently for years, and a brotha is gonna get his. 

I'm gonna return Kenya's call at some point, but I'm still in shock this is happening. She says she loves me, and I can tell that she is type of woman that would go ballistic if I disappeared on her.  She would probably call Yolanda which would really fuck things up cause as far as Kenya is concerned, Yolanda is just my live-in girlfriend.  So far I've kept Yolanda in the dark about this whole situation. She threatened to leave and take my boys after my last affair so I've learned to be more discreet. I love my boys and I love her, and I know if she were to leave me, she'd be moving down to Florida with her parents and I would only get to see my boys a few times a year. 

Sometimes I think about this baby that Kenya and I made and I hope that it's a girl. I remember the night we conceived it - it was the middle of summer and we were living together. Yolanda had taken the boys down to Florida for a few weeks so I was free to do what I wanted. I told Kenya I was going to get her pregnant after we had drank an entire bottle of honey wine. I said it as a joke at first, but the wine had me going. That night the sex was so good, we threw all caution to the wind and fucked without rubbers. I knew I shouldn't have cum inside of her, but it felt so good to feel her, I couldn't help myself. 

I want to be there for her and the kid, but I don't trust her to not turn crazy on me. She tells me nobody has ever fucked her as well as I do, and good dick can make a woman go nuts. Trust me, I've seen it happen before. Our summertime shack-up gave her a sampling of what it would be like to have me round the clock, and in hindsight, I hate that she had that experience. She suggested we run off and get married and I let her daydream about it, but when I realized she was serious, I nipped that in the bud real quick. All I need is two sets of alimony payments. 

I do love her though, in my own way, and I want my kid to know it's daddy. It's frustrating trying to figure out the right thing to do, and the more I drink this Hennessy, the more confused I get. 

I'm so tired of thinking about what Kenya wants and what Yolanda wants - it's time I put Nasir first. I'm always at the beck and call of some woman, whether I'm trying to get the pussy or trying to keep her from telling everybody I got the pussy that I have worn myself out. What I really want to do is start over fresh, somewhere other than in LA. Somewhere other than California for that matter. Somewhere where nobody has any back information on Nasir Armstrong. I want to go back to school and get a graduate degree, and this new baby might be the push I need to really get that going. I know this whole situation is going to come to a head eventually and I want to be sure my exit strategy is in place by then. 

I think I'll call Pam and see what she's up to for tonight.

Bridget: A Day in the Life of a Female Pimp (Tale II)

Nathan. Ugh. 

His name use to bring a smile to my lips for awhile. I use to sing it when he would leave after fucking me. I actually thought I was falling in love. 

Then he turned out to be a punk. 

At first, all was well. We took our trysts outdoors and went on a few dates, deciding that we wanted to spend time getting to know one another. He still delivered packages at my home from time to time, and since I was the last stop, he would usually bring my packages by after work and sometimes stay the night. The sex remained off the hook and I was completely into him.  I thought about cutting all other ties loose and making him my boyfriend. 

Then he started acting out. 

It started with him making a date with me and not showing up. I thought it was a misunderstanding at first - he said he had the dates mixed up. Then when we rescheduled he didn't show up again. I could feel myself wanting to cry about it - but fuck that. I decided to give him a call at work that next day. When I asked the receptionist to connect me to Nathan Williams, she apologized, and then informed me that Nathan no longer worked for the company. Ain't that a bitch. 

Two weeks later, Nathan pops up to my door with a package. I told him I knew he was no longer employed so he could stop fronting. He looked so sad that I took some pity on him and invited him into the house. He told me he stood me up because he didn't have any money and was afraid to tell me. Afraid? That was strike number one. I told him that didn't matter to me - we could find plenty of things to do that wouldn't cost us any money. He kissed me and told me he appreciated me understanding. That night, I took him out to dinner. 

For weeks afterward, Nathan got more and more depressed. He interviewed with several companies and kept getting rejected. Instead of staying the course, he sank lower and lower with each rejection. I couldn't stand his woe is me attitude and eventually I just stopped calling. Called my girl Pam and headed to Vegas for a week to get Nathan our of my system. 

Boy was Vegas the best move since my next victim came into my view in the midst of that week. 

Now I've been known to frequent the male booty clubs in Los Angeles - it just satisfies my craving to see a piece a well-crafted flesh from time to time. However, I am usually not one to fuck around with a stripper. After all, in Los Angeles, the community of Black male strippers is so small, and you see the same ones from week to week at The Track, and they don't take everything off so you never get a true view of the goods. But in Sin City baby, the walls come a tumblin' down. And dammit if I didn't get turned out just a little bit. 

His name is Mercenary, the Pussy Prober and he hails from Washington, D.C. If they grow them like this on the East Coast, a sista might need to get bi coastal. 

Now Pam and I got all done up to go to our favorite Vegas booty bar, Olympic Garden. It's about the only spot that has Black male dancers in Vegas. We got there before ten so we wouldn't have to pay a cover, went upstairs, and got front row seats. I ordered a seltzer while Pam did her thing with a French Connection. I'm not a drinker, and I especially like to stay sober when I'm at the club. Too much alcohol and I end up a little loose, you feel me?

So we are watching the show, seeing some big pieces of meat hit the stage, but nothing more impressive then some of the guys at home. I start to yawn and my mind wanders to Nathan, pissed that he turned out to be worth none of my time. It had been awhile since I had liked someone the way I had liked him and I couldn't believe how quickly things went from sugar to shit.

Then came 1 a.m. and the featured performer. I had already warned Pam that if this dude was not exceptional from the jump, I was headed back to the hotel. The words had barely left my mouth when the curtain went up, and out he came: Hershey chocolate from head to toe, 6'5, 245 pounds of pure muscle, in a cowboy hat, vest, chaps, and boots, with his piece wrapped in some black satin with a tassel on the end. When he turned around, his ass poked through the chaps so deliciously, I drooled a little. I had to catch my breath; it had been a long time since I had seen a dancer of this caliber. The announcer called his name loud and clear. Ladies, visiting us all the way from D.C.! Get your dollar bills ready as we welcome to the stage, Mercenary! The Pussy Prober!

Mercenary came out and did his thing and I was so glad to be front and center. I felt like he was performing for me and me only. Even though he worked the stage, he kept making eye contact with me. Now I'm not fool, I know a stripper's job is to make every woman feel special. But something about this was different, like I was familiar to him and he was trying to place me. 

When he did his floor work, he got right in front of me so I could see how long his tongue was and how a push up ain't shit to him. I could already imagine him on top of me, with that piece getting stuck inside of me - it was that big. I'm no chicken, but his dick was a little intimidating. When he took of the satin with the tassel, it had the nerve to expand - I could see the head of it pulsating. It had to be around 12-13 inches long, and so thick, I knew I couldn't get a hand wrapped all the way around it. Damn, damn, damn! As much as I hated to admit it, I wanted it right then and there. 

Mercenary wrapped up his performance and the stage was drenched in dollar bills. I had been so caught up in the show, I was still clutching mine in my hands. He winked at me before he went behind the curtain and tossed me a card. On the front it had his business information, but on the back he had written Don't leave, I'll be out in a minute. 

Now I hadn't seen him take out a pen and write that, so no telling how many of these cards was floating around the room. But as I was helping Pam get her drunk ass together, he emerged from the curtain, sans the cowboy hat. I tried to act coy, like I didn't notice those thick legs coming toward us. 

"May I assist you ladies?"

I looked up and into his eyes - they had the nerve to twinkle. "No, I think we'll be okay. We just need to catch a cab and head back to the hotel."

"If you wait, a few minutes, I can give you a ride to your hotel?"

"Oh no, we wouldn't dare inconvenience you like that."

"Not an inconvenience at all. Vegas is small. Where are you staying?"

I wasn't going to give up that information since Mercenary was a stranger, but Pam's drunk ass chimed in. 

"At the Rio. Suite 2214", she slurred. 

"Alright girl, that is enough." I zipped her jacket up and she sat down and dozed off. I turned back to Mercenary. "That was a great show you put on tonight."

"Thanks. It was nice having my own piece of eye candy front and center tonight", he said looking me dead in the eye. I blushed - I couldn't help it. "Don't I know you from somewhere", he asked. "You look so familiar to me."

"I don't think so. Aren't you from D.C.?"

"Not originally. I was born and raised in LA, but I relocated to D.C. almost ten years ago. Are you from Vegas?"

"No, LA."

"Really?", he asked and cracked a grin. He was way too fucking cute and if I continued to talk to him, I would lose my cool. I had to go. 

"Well thanks anyway for the offer." I helped Pam to her feet and headed toward the elevator. I turned and gave him one last look. "Have a good evening - Pussy Prober."

"I think I most definitely will. Suite 2214 right?", he asked as the elevator doors closed. I got a little giddy on the way down, thinking the night might still be young. 

I'm so glad Pam and I had the foresight to get a suite with separate rooms and that she is drunk and passed out in hers, because someone is knocking on the door of suite 2214. As I look through the peephole and see his eyes and smile looking back at me, I know I am in for a long night. 

Viva Las Vegas, baby.

Dream (II)

Dream was happy to be out of her grandparents' house. Church every Sunday was getting to be too much and she needed a break.

Puppy had spent the entire morning telling Dream why she couldn't stay in his home in Ladera Heights. He didn't tell her the truth, that the house was in Daphne's name, and she was sick and tired of waiting for him to leave his wife, so she was putting it on the market. Puppy had said fuck it and bought a newly renovated loft downtown. He told Dream it was for her. 

Dream was not feeling the idea of moving downtown. There was nothing down there, no amenities, and it was all the way across town from school. Puppy knew about the plans to renovate Los Angeles' downtown in hopes of revitalizing business and develop abandoned pieces of real estate. New lofts were the first to come on the market, and Puppy had gotten the loft for a fraction of what he hoped it would be worth in five years. 

All it took was for Dream to see the view from the 18th floor of the building through the floor-to-ceiling windows to convince her that this was now home. She told Granny that she was moving to campus so she could focus more on her studies, packed her clothing and personal items and left. Puppy wasn't there to help her move in, having had to return to Sacramento for an important meeting with the governor so she called Reggie to ask for help. He told her he would be right over after he finished counseling the last student.

Dream decided to cook a meal for Reggie while she waited. She loved playing wife to him and he lived for the attention she gave. She was so refreshing in comparison to Sherrese, and he toyed with the idea of leaving Sherrese for Dream. He felt he would be risking too much and settled for the time Dream offered him. If she needed him, he could always become available. 

Dream baked some chicken breasts and sweet potatoes, made a salad, and uncorked a bottle of red wine. She showered and put on a garter and stockings underneath a short red dress. She knew Reggie would show up ready to work and would be surprised at what was waiting for him. After she set the table, she walked around the loft, familiarizing herself with the space. She would ask Reggie to stay tonight; the place was still too foreign for her to sleep comfortably alone. She looked at the king-size bed with its crisp while linens and noticed for the first time the headboard to the bed. The headboard had two compartments on each side of the bed, perfect for her sexual accessory collection, and she ventured over to the bed to see how much she could store on each side. 

But the compartments weren't empty. On one side there was a portable file cabinet and a few manila folders. The folders contained notes for a sermon Puppy had preached recently. Dream chuckled to herself when she saw them. There were times when she forgot Puppy was a minister and in moments like this, she was reminded that he had to spend time to prepare for that job. The other compartment contained a metal black box with a lock, but there was no key in sight. Dream shook to box and heard what sounded like paper shaking back and forth inside. Though curious, she decided it best to leave the box alone and cleared out a space for her toys. She kept a feather and a jar of honey dust on the nightstand for easy access. She wanted to taste Reggie tonight. 

Reggie's dick was short but thick, and she could suck it with a jolly rancher in her mouth. The combination of the two kept her mouth wet, his dick sweet, and she loved tasting him as he came into her mouth. It was this act that kept Reggie coming back, since Sherrese would not swallow, even though her head skills were comparable. Dream would suck, lick, slurp, and swallow him whole. He hadn't felt anything like it before, and doubt he would run into another that would fuck him and feed him so well. Reggie thought Dream would make a good wife and completely forgot he had a fiance when they were together. 

After getting the bedroom in order, Dream went around the house removing any items that related to Puppy. He had a few pieces of mail arrive and she tucked them away in her suitcase. 

The intercom buzzed just then and she ran to the door to answer it. 

"Hello?"

"Hey baby I'm here. I don't see a moving truck out here. Is your stuff on the way?"

"You could say that. Come on up."

"Okay."

Dream buzzed Reggie in and unlocked the front door.  Reggie rang the buzzer and she instructed him to come in. Reggie wanted to fuck as soon as he saw her, but wanted to get her things moved first.

"Where's all the stuff baby?"

"Right here." Dream sat on the couch and spread her thighs so Reggie could get a look - she had opted to not wear panties. Reggie grinned and felt his dick get so hard it was about to bust through his pants. "That's what I'm talking about."

It was confirmed for Dream how much this loft was the shit as Reggie fucked her from behind in front of one of her floor to ceiling windows. Standing there buck naked was more a turn on than the sex itself. She hoped a neighbor or two was catching a glimpse of them. After fucking Reggie for a couple of hours, and licking honey dust off of him from head to toe, she took a shower with him and hopped out quickly to reheat his dinner. When he emerged, the table was set, complete with Dream back in her short, red dress. For the first time, Reggie took a good look around the loft. 

"Damn baby, this is some place. When did you decide to move in here? Are you renting?"

"I just moved in this week. You know my grandparents are generous."

"Clearly. This is a lot of space for one person. Shit, maybe I need to move in with you. It only took a half hour to get here from campus."

"No traffic on the 405 or the 10"?

"Not really."

"Huh, that's a surprise. Anyway, you can't move off of campus. The students need you."

"And I need you."

Dream looked up from her plate. She was reminded of why she didn't want Reggie full-time. "What about Sherrese and your impending nuptials?"

It was Reggie's turn to look up from his plate, and he frowned when he did. "Why do you care about what happens to Sherrese? She's always been an inconvenience to you." 

"I don't care about Sherrese!"

"Then why ask?"

Dream didn't respond and Reggie didn't press the matter, so they continued to eat in silence with a thick air of tension between them. Suddenly Dream wanted Reggie out. She was glad she hadn't asked him to sleep over just yet.

"Since it only took a half hour to get here, at this hour, it should only take you 15 minutes to get back to campus."

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Finish your food first."

Reggie picked up what was left on his plate and threw it in Dream's face. "Fuck this! Why is it always like this Dream? Whenever I feel like I want to get closer to you, you pull away!"

Dream sat there wiping scraps of food off of her clothes. "This is why Reggie. You act like a big baby. Look at what you just did to the meal I prepared just for you!"

"The meal has shit to do it."

"It has everything to do with it."

They locked eyes for what seemed to Reggie like forever. "Baby I want us to be together. Permanently."

"How can we be together permanently when you have a fiance?"

"So what's it going to be Dream?" Reggie waited for his verdict. 

"For right now I think you need to leave. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk."

Reggie stood and stared at Dream for a long time. He grabbed his jacket and headed to the door and turned to give her one last look. Dream didn't bother to see Reggie out; she was already flipping through her cell phone, perusing numbers. Reggie kicked the lamp by her front door over and left. 

He had already closed the door when the lamp crashed on to the floor. Dream heard the noise and came running to her door, cell phone in hand. What an asshole, she thought to herself. She couldn't think of one redeeming quality that would make her ever call Reggie again. He had left such a bitter taste in her mouth that she didn't feel like being bothered with the company of any man right now. She scrolled through her cell phone until she reached the S's. 

It was time to give Sabrina a call.