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| About James Lewis My name is James Lewis and I'm a Navy Sailor based in San Diego. I've been writing for about 15 years now, but just recently gottened serious about publishing. My stories tend to be edgy with an African American flavor to each. I've had one story published in 3AM Magazine. |
Adulterous Alternatives
by James Lewis
“I keep having these weird recurring dreams about what happened between me and my husband five years ago. It’s the same scenario where I catch his triflin’ ass fuckin’ that jailbait bitch, but I always get two totally different outcomes. That’s why you see me waking up in the middle of the night sweating sometimes. I do kind of regret what I did, though. Shit, what else would you do if you caught your husband of 12 years fuckin’ a high school student? Maybe that’s what my mind is trying to tell me; an alternative way on how I could’ve handled his adulterous ass…”
#
First dream:
Eve stood frozen in disbelief in the bedroom doorway, her mouth opened wide and her eyes locked on the adulterous transgression in progress before her. The low-cut Afro on her husband’s bobbing head banged against the headboard. Derrick’s loud grunting shocked Eve; he never made a sound when he made love to her. He slobbered his tongue around the young girl’s sweaty forehead and cheeks, blanketing her pretty brown face with saliva and sweat. She welcomed his lust, her eyes closed in passion and her throat spewing wild screams of pleasure. Her animalistic shrieking vibrated in continuous spurts--the same shrieks that startled Eve when she came through the front door downstairs. The squeaking sounds of the mattress springs matched their screams in a rhythmic harmony of pure sexual delight.
“Oooh! Yes! Yes!” she cried, lauding his rapid thrusts. She slapped her hands on Derrick’s butt cheeks, digging her thin fingers in and out of his skin.
Eve tiptoed toward the bed, her heels hardly making a sound against the plush carpeting. She stepped on the stained bed sheet, where one half lay on the floor while the other half covered their grinding hips. Before she got a few feet away from the bed, the young girl’s eyes opened. A split second later, they damn near shot out the sockets. Her moans of passion changed into one bellowing cry of terror and surprise. Derrick’s head shot back and he stared at the girl, an odd glare painted over his face. He noticed the direction of her frightened eyes and slowly turned his head around. His ashen face stuck in a humorous pose upon seeing who was standing at the bedside.
“Oh my god,” Derrick whispered. His lips started to quiver.
Eve did not say a word, a blank stare locked on the girl who dared invade her home, bedroom, and fidelity. Derrick jumped off of her and sat naked on the side of the bed, forcing the rest of the sheet onto the floor. His overhanging belly slightly concealed his rock hard penis, which was still snug tight inside of a moist condom.
“Baby…I…I can explain!” he pleaded, trying to reach out to Eve. The young girl gripped a pillow against breasts that were still underdeveloped, her eyes scanning the room as if they were looking for a quick exit. She inched toward the other end of the bed.
Eve looked down at Derrick’s pathetic face with an expressionless stare. Derrick sat immobilized, rambling inaudible pleas of forgiveness.
Eve brushed a hand over her forehead and than exhaled a short breath. “Wooo,” she sighed with relief, ignoring Derrick’s ranting, “you guys scared me for a second! Girrrrrl, I thought you were one of my high school students! I didn’t recognize you at first, but I just remembered seeing you talking to my husband at the mall a few weeks ago. He told me you were a co-worker. Shoo, am I relieved!”
Derrick tilted his head sideways and stared with a look of canine confusion, stunned by what he thought he heard. His crooked penis rested on the mattress between his legs, throbbing against his left thigh as it shrank. The young girl lay still, her head resting against the headboard. She was also unsure of what she heard—or how to respond to Eve’s bizarre, unexpected response.
“You’re a pretty little thing, too!” Eve confessed to the girl with a wide grin on her face, her hands on her hips. “I love your braids! Where do you get them done? Let me know who does your hair after you finished, all right? That style is cute!”
Derrick sat frozen, only moving his head to the young girl for answers. She stared at him for a second with a slight grin on her face and shrugged her shoulders, her eyebrows crunched together.
Derrick turned back to Eve, his mouth forming a small circle and his eyelids narrow as he stared into her eyes, searching for any drug-related symptoms. “Baby,” he said, daring to sound concerned, “everything all right?”
“Pssst, I’m fine,” Eve replied, swatting her hand through the air. “I’m just glad she don’t look like the last girl you had up in here. Ugh!” She slapped her hands together and rolled her eyes. She then turned to the petrified young girl and said, “Chile’, that girl he had up in here last week looked like a train wreck! Ugly bitch had teeth that were overlapping each other, you know what I…oh, never mind. Can I get you anything?”
It took a few seconds for Derrick to respond. “Uh…no,” he finally managed to say.
A gleaming smile was etched on Eve’s face, despite the obviousness of her husband’s betrayal. She tilted her head toward the young girl, blinking her eyes as she waited for her response. The young girl shook her head, her big brown eyes locked on Eve with suspicion. She still held the pillow in her arms.
Eve clapped her hands together again. “Okey dokey!” she exclaimed with a chippery tone. “Just give me a little ‘ring-ring’ if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs making dinner, so let me get on outta here! I hope you like pasta, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”
The young girl’s eyebrows shot up. She was even more surprised by Eve’s weird behavior. “Uh…Joanne,” she struggled to say, grimacing when she stated her name. “I d—don’t want anything, Mrs. Peete. My mom is already cooking pasta tonight.”
Eve studied the young girl’s face for a moment. Seconds later, it was as if a bulb lit up in her head. “Oh, your Bobbi’s daughter, huh?” Eve cried. “You used to go to King high school? Yeah, I remember you! You were in my daughter’s eleventh grade Sociology class last year! How are you doing, baby?”
Joanne rose up, her arm dangling over the bed as she tried to retrieve her pants, still trying to keep her eyes on Eve. “I—I’m fine, ma’am,” she stuttered.
“That’s good,” Eve replied. She had no hint of anger in her voice. She turned to Derrick and planted a kiss on his sweaty forehead. Derrick remained locked on Eve’s weird gestures. He was speechless.
“Hey, Joanne, guess what?” Eve said with excitement, her face lit up again. “Monica will be home from basketball practice soon. You should stay over until she gets here. She’d love to see you!”
Joanne was kneeling on the floor. Her butt was the only thing visible as she reached for the rest of her clothes under the bed. “Oh…uh...no thanks Mrs. Pee—ow!” she cried, bumping her head into the other nightstand on Derrick’s side of the bed.
Frantic, Derrick tried to find his own clothes, first looking around the bed and then behind the headboard. He finally found his tee shirt wedged between the nightstand and the bed’s metal frame.
“All righty then, Joanne,” she replied with a Mrs. Cleaver chuckle. “I don’t know how Mrs. Davis whips up lasagna, but mine is to die for!” Eve acted unaware of their frenzied clothes search, walking toward the door while singing a Jill Scott tune: Let’s take…a long walk…a-round the park…af-ter dark. Find a spot…
Joanne stood up from the side of the bed while strapping on her silk bra. “Uh…Mrs. Peete?” she said.
Eve stopped before reaching the door, turned to Joanne, and said, “Yes, dear?” She had a motherly tone in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, Eve could see Derrick, who had on his tee shirt and socks. He was still looking for his underwear and trying in vain to keep an eye on Eve.
“You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?” Joanne asked, pulling up her pants.
Eve waved her off. “Please, girl, don’t worry about it,” she replied. She closed the door. She had one hand in the deep pocket of her full-length dress. “Nothing to worry about at all. After I cut off Derrick’s dick…” —she pulled her hand out of the pocket, revealing a large butcher knife— “I’ll cut your little slutty ass up in pieces so you don’t have to worry about what your parents will do when they find out, how about that?” She stood smiling with the 10-inch blade, her hand gripping the handle.
Joanne dropped her varsity sweater. Her hands started to tremble. Eve moved in a robotic motion toward her. There were eerie giggles of delight when Eve noticed a wet spot flowing between Joanne’s tight jeans.
Derrick started walking toward Eve, his cautious footsteps slow and measured. “Baby,” he said trying to remain calm, a pleading tone in his voice, “please put the knife down. You don’t have to do this.”
Eve stopped and turned to Derrick with red, glazed eyes. She gripped the knife handle with both hands tightly against her chest, the tip of the steel blade just beneath her chin. “Do what, honey?” she said, switching her direction toward him.
Derrick stood with the palms of his hands in front of him. He held his ground, preparing to fend off a possible attack. “Put the knife down, baby,” he said before swallowing. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Let’s talk this out. We can get over this.”
Eve stopped a foot or two in front of him, staring into his panicky eyes with a sinister grin still etched on her face. “No, we can’t, darling,” she replied. “We are over. I’m gonna have to cut you off for good.”
Derrick shook his head. “No, baby, we can still be together. If we can talk about it, we can--”
“Uh, uh, uh,” she said, also shaking her head, “you don’t understand. I said I’m gonna have to cut…” –her lightening hand speed grabbed his manhood, severing it with one swipe from the blade— “you off. Understand now, sweetie?”
Derrick collapsed to the floor, squealing, spurts of dark, purple blood gushing from between his legs. He lay quivering and crying, his body balled up in a fetal position--terrified eyes of a man who had just endured the greatest nightmare. His head trembled as he stared up at Eve from the bloody carpet.
“Awwww, are you all right, baby?” she said down to him, a phony look of concern patronizing his painful struggle. She stared down at the wrinkled girth of decapitated flesh, smiling with approval at its erratic spasms. “Oh, my goodness,” she quipped, covering her mouth with the back of the hand that held the bloody handle. “Look at it move! It moves better than you did when it was attached to you…just a few seconds before! Ha! Maybe I should put this bad boy on ice! Ha! Ha! Ha!” She threw back her head in snorted laughter.
Derrick inched his shaky head toward his once most prized possession that was lying a few inches from his face. Upon seeing his buddy in a bloody spot it had no business being, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
Eve looked down at her dress and stopped chuckling, the knife still held by her side. “Darn it,” she said upon noticing her messy dress. “I just got this thing from the cleaners, too.”
Joanne watched Eve’s moment of psychosis from afar with teary eyes, inching her way toward the bedroom door, fear holding her back from running.
Eve tried wiping some of the blood off her white and light blue dress with her bloody hands, leaving more stained spots. She raised her head and looked to Joanne and cried, “Freakin’ damn! Don’t you hate it when…where do you think you’re going?”
Upon locking eyes with the psycho woman again, Joanne made a mad dash toward the door, bawling and screaming, “Help me! Help me! Somebody please!” She stumbled over her book bag.
Eve walked toward the door to cut her off and reached out to her. She grabbed a handful of braids and yanked Joanne back, the knife raised in her other hand over Joanne’s head. Joanne kicked her legs and flailed her arms around to somehow unleash Eve’s powerful grip, but to no avail. Eve dragged her by her fake hair, her overbearing strength forcing the young girl’s petite body to follow. Joanne stared up at the bloody blade over her head, saliva mixed with sweat and warm tears streaming down her red cheeks and quivering lips. Eve matched her stare with a bright smile and adoring eyes, humming a Luther Vandross tune just as the blade came down on the young girl’s smooth light-skinned neck…
#
“That’s how that one ends, but check out this next one. It’s wild.”
#
Second dream:
“Oh, my god,” Derrick whispered, his lips quivering.
Eve didn’t say a word, a blank stare locked on the pitiful face of her cheating husband. She looked back and forth at a young girl and a man old enough to be the girl’s father.
Derrick jumped off of the young girl and sat on the side of the bed. His overhanging belly slightly concealed his rock hard penis, which was still snug tight inside of a moist condom.
“Eve, I…I can explain!” he said. “This is Joanne and…and…” Derrick cut himself off, extending his hand out to his wife.
Eve stepped back, avoiding his grasp. She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips.
“How could you do this to me?” she said in a shaky voice.
Derrick struggled to get the right words out of his mouth. “Baby, I’m...I didn’t…I’m sorry,” he said, his energy deflating. He turned to Joanne and was about to tell her to get dressed when he noticed a calm look on her face. “Why you looking like that?” he asked, “you need to
get--”
Joanne placed her index finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shhhhh,” she commanded. She slid her hand around Derrick’s cheek and gently moved his head toward Eve. His frowning face had a “what the fuck is this bitch doing” look.
“How could you do this…” –Eve started again, staring at Derrick with a look a pain while pulling up her dress to her waist, her voice transforming to a seductive tone— “without waiting for me?”
Her thick brown thighs and white, silk panties were revealed, not too far from Derrick’s stunned face—shapely hips and legs still looking like that of a 22-year old. She gripped each side of her panties with her thumbs and slid them down her legs, her dress sliding back down her ample behind as she bent over. Her dark eyes were still locked on Derrick, a sly grin emerging from her face.
“Happy 40th Birthday, baby,” she said in a tempting voice, the tip of their noses touching each other. She leaned downed further and planted a kiss on his lips. As she raised back up, Derrick noticed her wink at the young girl—the same young girl he was sexing just seconds before in a bed she didn’t belong.
Derrick sat motionless, too stunned to return Eve’s peck. He turned to the young girl behind him again, uncertain how to react. His eyebrows shot up further upon seeing the young girl’s sexy, unconcerned smile. She raised herself up on her elbow, her extensions dangling along her shoulder as she stared into his disbelieving eyes.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” she repeated in a voice strangely similar to his wife’s. She began stroking Derrick’s sweaty back. “Are you surprised?”
Derrick stared at her, then shot back to his wife, catching a glimpse of her dress slithering down her body to her ankles. He looked at her with a giddy grin as she reached around her back to undo her bra strap. Her bra fell to the floor, exposing her 38-dd sized breasts.
“Hell yeah, I’m surprised!” he replied after a long pause. “What’s really goin’ on?”
“What you’ve always wanted,” Eve replied. “Wasn’t it your fantasy to have two women in your bed?”
Derrick looked back at Joanne and turned back to his wife, his giddy smile wider than before. “Uh…yeah! Hell yeah!” he exclaimed. He clapped his hands together like an excited kid at a circus.
Eve stepped out of her dress and lightly pushed Derrick back toward the bed. Derrick didn’t resist her advance, leaning back toward the smiling young girl behind him. Eve straddled his chest and inched her thick hips toward Derrick’s head, her shaven canal of moist flesh inches from Derrick’s jaw. His eyes gleamed with joy and anticipation as he saw four brown-skinned breasts dangling over his head. Joanne’s braids nearly blanketed his face as she lowered her head down to his lips. He chased her swirling tongue as their mouths moved together in rhythm. He could feel the tip of Eve’s tongue creeping down the center of his chest. She slid down his body, her hard nipples touching his twitching chest as she moved. She circled her tongue around the area of flesh between his belly button and penis before her knees touched the carpet.
“Oh, shit,” he moaned, as Joanne slid her tongue down his cheek toward his neck. He gripped his fingers around the bed sheets, trying hard not to explode as each female explored his most sensitive spots. Eve stroked her hand up and down his penis a few times before pulling off the condom, eyeing Derrick with a devilish grin. His heart raced as she inched her lips and tongue around his scrotum in slow, measured movements, her fingers fondling his crown jewels. Derrick’s body shuddered with delight, his eyes bulging and legs shaking simultaneously. Eve’s moist lips gently wrapped around the tip of his member, mixing a glob of saliva in her mouth, creating loud, sensual slurping sounds.
“You like that, baby?” she said in a low voice, pausing to lock her eyes on Derrick’s trembling head. He was gritting his teeth and making snorting sounds with each gasp of air. His head shot up as Eve returned to her “job.” He tried to plant his feet against the carpet to resist the involuntary twitching in his legs.
“Uh…ye...I…shit. Sheeeit!” he muttered, making up a new word with each tender spot Joanne and Eve found with their masterful art of tongue exploration. Joanne worked her lips in circles around Derrick’s neck, ears, and head, brushing her smooth breasts around his face as they followed the direction of her wandering tongue.
After making a slobbering pit stop at both of Derrick’s nipples, Joanne followed her tongue down his chest in a zig-zagging motion toward the same area of sensitivity that Eve made home. As she worked her way down, she raised her left knee over Derrick’s head and carefully set it down next to his ear. A loud moan escaped Derrick’s lips. He opened his eyes to see Joanne’s legs spread apart over his nose, the tasty presence of her sweet smelling sugar walls dancing over him.
Joanne made her way toward the main course meal, establishing turf on an “edible” nut. Eve moved her head to work her magic on the other side, making sure to not leave it unattended. Derrick raised his head with a silly grin on his face, sighing, seeing two brown skinned women--one caramel, the other butterscotch--rotating gloriously around his chocolate “Snicker” bar.
“Yeah,” he murmured, “Chocolate City.” He lay his head back on the bed, staring into Joanne’s mound of youthful moistness. He raised his hands and placed them on each side of Joanne’s hips. As if on command, Joanne lowered herself down toward Derrick’s awaiting tongue…
#
Reality:
“Hold up! Hold up!” Sharnell cried, amid loud grunts of laughter. “Now that one was way too bugged out! Your ass is trippin’ now!” Sharnell rolled around in the top bunk, the tattered mattress making screeching sounds with every movement.
Eve stared up at the rusty springs from her bottom rack. The springs shook as Sharnell’s 280-pound body rolled around in her bunk, bellowing with laughter. The large indentation from Sharnell’s large body always made Eve worry about her crashing through the mattress while Eve slept.
“Well, shit, I can’t help what I dream!” Eve replied, amid her chuckles. “I think my brain is trying to tell me I should have handled the situation a lot better than what I did, don’t you think? Which one do you think is better?”
Sharnell leaned her head over her bunk. Her wild, uncombed black mane laden with gray strips hung over the mattress. Eve looked over at the younger chubby-faced woman, her light-brown skin looking more aged and haggard than her 38 years. Shanelle’s crooked teeth and dry, peeling lips somehow formed a smile.
“I know yo’ ass been in here too long now,” Sharnelle joked. “Personally, I like the scenario that got yo’ ass in here! Shit, I wish I woulda cut off Paul’s dick, though. That woulda been a fuckin’ sight to see.”
Eve wiped a tear from an eye caused by the uncontrollable laugh session Sharnelle and her had. It was a rare occasion of fun within a life utterly different from the “perfect” life she thought she had just five years before.
Eve lay still for a moment, then her face became blank. The bags under her eyes indicated a need for a quiet night’s sleep that hardly came. The vibrancy her face once exuded had been replaced by dark wrinkles, conveying the strain of a long-term, painful existence.
She adjusted her head around on the small pillow. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” Eve sighed. “I’m 46 years old and I’ve been in here five years, still dwelling on the same shit. All I know is I’m glad I can joke about it, I guess, considering where it got me, ya know?”
Sharnell glanced at the cracked, cement floor. “Yeah, I feel ya,” she replied, her head still over the side. “I done been in here seven sum years, still thinking about how I coulda done it different, too. Of all people, I had to catch him fuckin’ my sister! But you know what? I didn’t like my sister’s bitch ass anyway. They both got what they deserved--three bullets for both dey asses. And I don’t regret shit!”
Eve tilted her head and frowned. “You don’t?” she said, surprised. “Damn, I do. Here am I lying in a cold, hard bunk serving 20 years. All because I, the good wife, decided to come home from work early one day to surprise my supposedly faithful husband for his birthday!” Her tone became agitated. “I made fuckin’ dinner plans at this fancy restaurant and everything, just to catch his ass in my bed with a child!”
Sharnell stared at Eve, giving her a moment to vent. “Well,” she sighed, “all we have is each other now. We come from two diff’rent worlds, but we in here for the same damn thing. At least you didn’t get life.”
Eve grinned. She turned her head toward the other end of the cell, staring at the dilapidated walls, torn posters, and nasty commode that her and Sharnell had to share. Just then, a short, chunky prison guard walked down the prison aisle, whistling an annoying happy-go-lucky tune. Eve turned to see the pink-faced older man with the wobble walk, rattling his batten against the steelbars of their cell. He flashed a condescending smile at the women as he walked by; a smile that said, “my ass gets to go home at night.”
Eve hissed at the older man, secretly envying his ability to walk, sleep, and shit anywhere he pleased. She closed her eye for a moment and exhaled. “Well,” she said, “This is my reality now. A master’s degree in education went right down the fuckin’ drain. I have to deal with it. I admit it, though, I do kind of feel sorry for that girl. Derrick manipulated that child. She was only seventeen and I heard she’ll never walk again.”
“Shit, I wouldn’t be,” Sharnell replied. “Look, that fool had a seventeen-year-old ho inside your house, fuckin’ in your bedroom, with her slutty ass leaking pussy juice all over your satin sheets that you paid fo’!”
Eve burst out in laughter, then covered her mouth to suppress the loud chuckles. “Leaking pussy juice, huh?” she said after uncovering her mouth. “Since you put it that way--”
“You know I’m right,” Sharnell cut in. “Think back to that shit five years ago. I mean, really think back, and tell me if you woulda done anything diff’rent.”
Eve pulled the stained sheets from her waist up to her neck and stared at the mattress springs above. She recalled that awful day, visually reliving the events that led up to the moment that would change her life forever. She remembered the screams the moment she walked in the front door—and how the undeniable shrieks of pleasure grew louder as she walked up the steps. She remembered not wanting to believe what she was hearing as she got closer to the bedroom door, still shaking her head in denial, the tears welling up, but none falling yet. She wanted to believe the grunts from the man coming from behind the door belonged to someone else because her husband—a man she had loved, cherished, and committed her life to for 12 years—never made those kind of sounds with her.
She remembered the long, painful moments she endured before gathering the nerve to open the door. It was all like some hazy, awful nightmare; everything seemed to move in slow motion. She remembered pushing the door open and her eyes locking on the adulterous transgression in progress before her eyes, her husband slobbering all over a young girl with lust in his heart. Eve grimaced at each thought of betrayal and the tears finally fell.
She remembered how the young girl screamed upon noticing Eve walk toward the dresser and pulled open the top drawer, grabbing a small gun. She remembered the shots firing…bullets piercing the young girl’s back…her rolling off the bed and falling to the floor…and Derrick pleading for his life, yelling something like, “Baby, please don’t! No!”
The last spotty recollections were of the sick sound of Derrick’s head slamming against the headboard, his motionless, bloody body sprawled out over the bed…her calling 911 moments after her evil deed…a police officer pulling her limp body off of the floor with the smoking gun inches from her feet…the fury she felt upon seeing another officer tending to the crying, wounded girl.
“Leave her fuckin’ ass there!” she remembered screaming before crumpling to the floor and blacking out. “Leave her fuckin’ ass there! Leave her ass fuckin’ ass…”
Then there was silence.
“You know what, Sharnell?” Eve said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I would’ve changed something.”
“Yeah? What?” Sharnell replied.
An evil smile emerged on Eve’s face. “I would’ve made sure I killed that bitch.”
Sharnell grinned and extended a hand out to Eve. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ bout’,” she said. “Gimme some.” Eve slapped her hand and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes.
“All right, girl,” Sharnell said, “I’m takin’ a nap. Dey showin’ Set if Off again tonight. Gots to see that.”
Eve wiped away her tears. “All right, Nel,” she replied, opening her eyes. She turned to the wall closest to her, and ran her hands around a crumpled, taped Polariod picture of her daughter Monica when she was five years old, wearing a pink oversized Parka and a sunshine smile. Her daughter was the only person who gave Eve the power and will to survive her nightmare. Many warm memories of Monica were always dancing around in her head, soothing her. She felt blessed knowing her daughter, now twenty-two years old, forgave her long ago, writing letters and visiting her regularly. The thought of her daughter visiting her the next day from Texas A&M comforted her, and Eve couldn’t wait.
by James Lewis
“I keep having these weird recurring dreams about what happened between me and my husband five years ago. It’s the same scenario where I catch his triflin’ ass fuckin’ that jailbait bitch, but I always get two totally different outcomes. That’s why you see me waking up in the middle of the night sweating sometimes. I do kind of regret what I did, though. Shit, what else would you do if you caught your husband of 12 years fuckin’ a high school student? Maybe that’s what my mind is trying to tell me; an alternative way on how I could’ve handled his adulterous ass…”
#
First dream:
Eve stood frozen in disbelief in the bedroom doorway, her mouth opened wide and her eyes locked on the adulterous transgression in progress before her. The low-cut Afro on her husband’s bobbing head banged against the headboard. Derrick’s loud grunting shocked Eve; he never made a sound when he made love to her. He slobbered his tongue around the young girl’s sweaty forehead and cheeks, blanketing her pretty brown face with saliva and sweat. She welcomed his lust, her eyes closed in passion and her throat spewing wild screams of pleasure. Her animalistic shrieking vibrated in continuous spurts--the same shrieks that startled Eve when she came through the front door downstairs. The squeaking sounds of the mattress springs matched their screams in a rhythmic harmony of pure sexual delight.
“Oooh! Yes! Yes!” she cried, lauding his rapid thrusts. She slapped her hands on Derrick’s butt cheeks, digging her thin fingers in and out of his skin.
Eve tiptoed toward the bed, her heels hardly making a sound against the plush carpeting. She stepped on the stained bed sheet, where one half lay on the floor while the other half covered their grinding hips. Before she got a few feet away from the bed, the young girl’s eyes opened. A split second later, they damn near shot out the sockets. Her moans of passion changed into one bellowing cry of terror and surprise. Derrick’s head shot back and he stared at the girl, an odd glare painted over his face. He noticed the direction of her frightened eyes and slowly turned his head around. His ashen face stuck in a humorous pose upon seeing who was standing at the bedside.
“Oh my god,” Derrick whispered. His lips started to quiver.
Eve did not say a word, a blank stare locked on the girl who dared invade her home, bedroom, and fidelity. Derrick jumped off of her and sat naked on the side of the bed, forcing the rest of the sheet onto the floor. His overhanging belly slightly concealed his rock hard penis, which was still snug tight inside of a moist condom.
“Baby…I…I can explain!” he pleaded, trying to reach out to Eve. The young girl gripped a pillow against breasts that were still underdeveloped, her eyes scanning the room as if they were looking for a quick exit. She inched toward the other end of the bed.
Eve looked down at Derrick’s pathetic face with an expressionless stare. Derrick sat immobilized, rambling inaudible pleas of forgiveness.
Eve brushed a hand over her forehead and than exhaled a short breath. “Wooo,” she sighed with relief, ignoring Derrick’s ranting, “you guys scared me for a second! Girrrrrl, I thought you were one of my high school students! I didn’t recognize you at first, but I just remembered seeing you talking to my husband at the mall a few weeks ago. He told me you were a co-worker. Shoo, am I relieved!”
Derrick tilted his head sideways and stared with a look of canine confusion, stunned by what he thought he heard. His crooked penis rested on the mattress between his legs, throbbing against his left thigh as it shrank. The young girl lay still, her head resting against the headboard. She was also unsure of what she heard—or how to respond to Eve’s bizarre, unexpected response.
“You’re a pretty little thing, too!” Eve confessed to the girl with a wide grin on her face, her hands on her hips. “I love your braids! Where do you get them done? Let me know who does your hair after you finished, all right? That style is cute!”
Derrick sat frozen, only moving his head to the young girl for answers. She stared at him for a second with a slight grin on her face and shrugged her shoulders, her eyebrows crunched together.
Derrick turned back to Eve, his mouth forming a small circle and his eyelids narrow as he stared into her eyes, searching for any drug-related symptoms. “Baby,” he said, daring to sound concerned, “everything all right?”
“Pssst, I’m fine,” Eve replied, swatting her hand through the air. “I’m just glad she don’t look like the last girl you had up in here. Ugh!” She slapped her hands together and rolled her eyes. She then turned to the petrified young girl and said, “Chile’, that girl he had up in here last week looked like a train wreck! Ugly bitch had teeth that were overlapping each other, you know what I…oh, never mind. Can I get you anything?”
It took a few seconds for Derrick to respond. “Uh…no,” he finally managed to say.
A gleaming smile was etched on Eve’s face, despite the obviousness of her husband’s betrayal. She tilted her head toward the young girl, blinking her eyes as she waited for her response. The young girl shook her head, her big brown eyes locked on Eve with suspicion. She still held the pillow in her arms.
Eve clapped her hands together again. “Okey dokey!” she exclaimed with a chippery tone. “Just give me a little ‘ring-ring’ if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs making dinner, so let me get on outta here! I hope you like pasta, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”
The young girl’s eyebrows shot up. She was even more surprised by Eve’s weird behavior. “Uh…Joanne,” she struggled to say, grimacing when she stated her name. “I d—don’t want anything, Mrs. Peete. My mom is already cooking pasta tonight.”
Eve studied the young girl’s face for a moment. Seconds later, it was as if a bulb lit up in her head. “Oh, your Bobbi’s daughter, huh?” Eve cried. “You used to go to King high school? Yeah, I remember you! You were in my daughter’s eleventh grade Sociology class last year! How are you doing, baby?”
Joanne rose up, her arm dangling over the bed as she tried to retrieve her pants, still trying to keep her eyes on Eve. “I—I’m fine, ma’am,” she stuttered.
“That’s good,” Eve replied. She had no hint of anger in her voice. She turned to Derrick and planted a kiss on his sweaty forehead. Derrick remained locked on Eve’s weird gestures. He was speechless.
“Hey, Joanne, guess what?” Eve said with excitement, her face lit up again. “Monica will be home from basketball practice soon. You should stay over until she gets here. She’d love to see you!”
Joanne was kneeling on the floor. Her butt was the only thing visible as she reached for the rest of her clothes under the bed. “Oh…uh...no thanks Mrs. Pee—ow!” she cried, bumping her head into the other nightstand on Derrick’s side of the bed.
Frantic, Derrick tried to find his own clothes, first looking around the bed and then behind the headboard. He finally found his tee shirt wedged between the nightstand and the bed’s metal frame.
“All righty then, Joanne,” she replied with a Mrs. Cleaver chuckle. “I don’t know how Mrs. Davis whips up lasagna, but mine is to die for!” Eve acted unaware of their frenzied clothes search, walking toward the door while singing a Jill Scott tune: Let’s take…a long walk…a-round the park…af-ter dark. Find a spot…
Joanne stood up from the side of the bed while strapping on her silk bra. “Uh…Mrs. Peete?” she said.
Eve stopped before reaching the door, turned to Joanne, and said, “Yes, dear?” She had a motherly tone in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, Eve could see Derrick, who had on his tee shirt and socks. He was still looking for his underwear and trying in vain to keep an eye on Eve.
“You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?” Joanne asked, pulling up her pants.
Eve waved her off. “Please, girl, don’t worry about it,” she replied. She closed the door. She had one hand in the deep pocket of her full-length dress. “Nothing to worry about at all. After I cut off Derrick’s dick…” —she pulled her hand out of the pocket, revealing a large butcher knife— “I’ll cut your little slutty ass up in pieces so you don’t have to worry about what your parents will do when they find out, how about that?” She stood smiling with the 10-inch blade, her hand gripping the handle.
Joanne dropped her varsity sweater. Her hands started to tremble. Eve moved in a robotic motion toward her. There were eerie giggles of delight when Eve noticed a wet spot flowing between Joanne’s tight jeans.
Derrick started walking toward Eve, his cautious footsteps slow and measured. “Baby,” he said trying to remain calm, a pleading tone in his voice, “please put the knife down. You don’t have to do this.”
Eve stopped and turned to Derrick with red, glazed eyes. She gripped the knife handle with both hands tightly against her chest, the tip of the steel blade just beneath her chin. “Do what, honey?” she said, switching her direction toward him.
Derrick stood with the palms of his hands in front of him. He held his ground, preparing to fend off a possible attack. “Put the knife down, baby,” he said before swallowing. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Let’s talk this out. We can get over this.”
Eve stopped a foot or two in front of him, staring into his panicky eyes with a sinister grin still etched on her face. “No, we can’t, darling,” she replied. “We are over. I’m gonna have to cut you off for good.”
Derrick shook his head. “No, baby, we can still be together. If we can talk about it, we can--”
“Uh, uh, uh,” she said, also shaking her head, “you don’t understand. I said I’m gonna have to cut…” –her lightening hand speed grabbed his manhood, severing it with one swipe from the blade— “you off. Understand now, sweetie?”
Derrick collapsed to the floor, squealing, spurts of dark, purple blood gushing from between his legs. He lay quivering and crying, his body balled up in a fetal position--terrified eyes of a man who had just endured the greatest nightmare. His head trembled as he stared up at Eve from the bloody carpet.
“Awwww, are you all right, baby?” she said down to him, a phony look of concern patronizing his painful struggle. She stared down at the wrinkled girth of decapitated flesh, smiling with approval at its erratic spasms. “Oh, my goodness,” she quipped, covering her mouth with the back of the hand that held the bloody handle. “Look at it move! It moves better than you did when it was attached to you…just a few seconds before! Ha! Maybe I should put this bad boy on ice! Ha! Ha! Ha!” She threw back her head in snorted laughter.
Derrick inched his shaky head toward his once most prized possession that was lying a few inches from his face. Upon seeing his buddy in a bloody spot it had no business being, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
Eve looked down at her dress and stopped chuckling, the knife still held by her side. “Darn it,” she said upon noticing her messy dress. “I just got this thing from the cleaners, too.”
Joanne watched Eve’s moment of psychosis from afar with teary eyes, inching her way toward the bedroom door, fear holding her back from running.
Eve tried wiping some of the blood off her white and light blue dress with her bloody hands, leaving more stained spots. She raised her head and looked to Joanne and cried, “Freakin’ damn! Don’t you hate it when…where do you think you’re going?”
Upon locking eyes with the psycho woman again, Joanne made a mad dash toward the door, bawling and screaming, “Help me! Help me! Somebody please!” She stumbled over her book bag.
Eve walked toward the door to cut her off and reached out to her. She grabbed a handful of braids and yanked Joanne back, the knife raised in her other hand over Joanne’s head. Joanne kicked her legs and flailed her arms around to somehow unleash Eve’s powerful grip, but to no avail. Eve dragged her by her fake hair, her overbearing strength forcing the young girl’s petite body to follow. Joanne stared up at the bloody blade over her head, saliva mixed with sweat and warm tears streaming down her red cheeks and quivering lips. Eve matched her stare with a bright smile and adoring eyes, humming a Luther Vandross tune just as the blade came down on the young girl’s smooth light-skinned neck…
#
“That’s how that one ends, but check out this next one. It’s wild.”
#
Second dream:
“Oh, my god,” Derrick whispered, his lips quivering.
Eve didn’t say a word, a blank stare locked on the pitiful face of her cheating husband. She looked back and forth at a young girl and a man old enough to be the girl’s father.
Derrick jumped off of the young girl and sat on the side of the bed. His overhanging belly slightly concealed his rock hard penis, which was still snug tight inside of a moist condom.
“Eve, I…I can explain!” he said. “This is Joanne and…and…” Derrick cut himself off, extending his hand out to his wife.
Eve stepped back, avoiding his grasp. She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips.
“How could you do this to me?” she said in a shaky voice.
Derrick struggled to get the right words out of his mouth. “Baby, I’m...I didn’t…I’m sorry,” he said, his energy deflating. He turned to Joanne and was about to tell her to get dressed when he noticed a calm look on her face. “Why you looking like that?” he asked, “you need to
get--”
Joanne placed her index finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shhhhh,” she commanded. She slid her hand around Derrick’s cheek and gently moved his head toward Eve. His frowning face had a “what the fuck is this bitch doing” look.
“How could you do this…” –Eve started again, staring at Derrick with a look a pain while pulling up her dress to her waist, her voice transforming to a seductive tone— “without waiting for me?”
Her thick brown thighs and white, silk panties were revealed, not too far from Derrick’s stunned face—shapely hips and legs still looking like that of a 22-year old. She gripped each side of her panties with her thumbs and slid them down her legs, her dress sliding back down her ample behind as she bent over. Her dark eyes were still locked on Derrick, a sly grin emerging from her face.
“Happy 40th Birthday, baby,” she said in a tempting voice, the tip of their noses touching each other. She leaned downed further and planted a kiss on his lips. As she raised back up, Derrick noticed her wink at the young girl—the same young girl he was sexing just seconds before in a bed she didn’t belong.
Derrick sat motionless, too stunned to return Eve’s peck. He turned to the young girl behind him again, uncertain how to react. His eyebrows shot up further upon seeing the young girl’s sexy, unconcerned smile. She raised herself up on her elbow, her extensions dangling along her shoulder as she stared into his disbelieving eyes.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” she repeated in a voice strangely similar to his wife’s. She began stroking Derrick’s sweaty back. “Are you surprised?”
Derrick stared at her, then shot back to his wife, catching a glimpse of her dress slithering down her body to her ankles. He looked at her with a giddy grin as she reached around her back to undo her bra strap. Her bra fell to the floor, exposing her 38-dd sized breasts.
“Hell yeah, I’m surprised!” he replied after a long pause. “What’s really goin’ on?”
“What you’ve always wanted,” Eve replied. “Wasn’t it your fantasy to have two women in your bed?”
Derrick looked back at Joanne and turned back to his wife, his giddy smile wider than before. “Uh…yeah! Hell yeah!” he exclaimed. He clapped his hands together like an excited kid at a circus.
Eve stepped out of her dress and lightly pushed Derrick back toward the bed. Derrick didn’t resist her advance, leaning back toward the smiling young girl behind him. Eve straddled his chest and inched her thick hips toward Derrick’s head, her shaven canal of moist flesh inches from Derrick’s jaw. His eyes gleamed with joy and anticipation as he saw four brown-skinned breasts dangling over his head. Joanne’s braids nearly blanketed his face as she lowered her head down to his lips. He chased her swirling tongue as their mouths moved together in rhythm. He could feel the tip of Eve’s tongue creeping down the center of his chest. She slid down his body, her hard nipples touching his twitching chest as she moved. She circled her tongue around the area of flesh between his belly button and penis before her knees touched the carpet.
“Oh, shit,” he moaned, as Joanne slid her tongue down his cheek toward his neck. He gripped his fingers around the bed sheets, trying hard not to explode as each female explored his most sensitive spots. Eve stroked her hand up and down his penis a few times before pulling off the condom, eyeing Derrick with a devilish grin. His heart raced as she inched her lips and tongue around his scrotum in slow, measured movements, her fingers fondling his crown jewels. Derrick’s body shuddered with delight, his eyes bulging and legs shaking simultaneously. Eve’s moist lips gently wrapped around the tip of his member, mixing a glob of saliva in her mouth, creating loud, sensual slurping sounds.
“You like that, baby?” she said in a low voice, pausing to lock her eyes on Derrick’s trembling head. He was gritting his teeth and making snorting sounds with each gasp of air. His head shot up as Eve returned to her “job.” He tried to plant his feet against the carpet to resist the involuntary twitching in his legs.
“Uh…ye...I…shit. Sheeeit!” he muttered, making up a new word with each tender spot Joanne and Eve found with their masterful art of tongue exploration. Joanne worked her lips in circles around Derrick’s neck, ears, and head, brushing her smooth breasts around his face as they followed the direction of her wandering tongue.
After making a slobbering pit stop at both of Derrick’s nipples, Joanne followed her tongue down his chest in a zig-zagging motion toward the same area of sensitivity that Eve made home. As she worked her way down, she raised her left knee over Derrick’s head and carefully set it down next to his ear. A loud moan escaped Derrick’s lips. He opened his eyes to see Joanne’s legs spread apart over his nose, the tasty presence of her sweet smelling sugar walls dancing over him.
Joanne made her way toward the main course meal, establishing turf on an “edible” nut. Eve moved her head to work her magic on the other side, making sure to not leave it unattended. Derrick raised his head with a silly grin on his face, sighing, seeing two brown skinned women--one caramel, the other butterscotch--rotating gloriously around his chocolate “Snicker” bar.
“Yeah,” he murmured, “Chocolate City.” He lay his head back on the bed, staring into Joanne’s mound of youthful moistness. He raised his hands and placed them on each side of Joanne’s hips. As if on command, Joanne lowered herself down toward Derrick’s awaiting tongue…
#
Reality:
“Hold up! Hold up!” Sharnell cried, amid loud grunts of laughter. “Now that one was way too bugged out! Your ass is trippin’ now!” Sharnell rolled around in the top bunk, the tattered mattress making screeching sounds with every movement.
Eve stared up at the rusty springs from her bottom rack. The springs shook as Sharnell’s 280-pound body rolled around in her bunk, bellowing with laughter. The large indentation from Sharnell’s large body always made Eve worry about her crashing through the mattress while Eve slept.
“Well, shit, I can’t help what I dream!” Eve replied, amid her chuckles. “I think my brain is trying to tell me I should have handled the situation a lot better than what I did, don’t you think? Which one do you think is better?”
Sharnell leaned her head over her bunk. Her wild, uncombed black mane laden with gray strips hung over the mattress. Eve looked over at the younger chubby-faced woman, her light-brown skin looking more aged and haggard than her 38 years. Shanelle’s crooked teeth and dry, peeling lips somehow formed a smile.
“I know yo’ ass been in here too long now,” Sharnelle joked. “Personally, I like the scenario that got yo’ ass in here! Shit, I wish I woulda cut off Paul’s dick, though. That woulda been a fuckin’ sight to see.”
Eve wiped a tear from an eye caused by the uncontrollable laugh session Sharnelle and her had. It was a rare occasion of fun within a life utterly different from the “perfect” life she thought she had just five years before.
Eve lay still for a moment, then her face became blank. The bags under her eyes indicated a need for a quiet night’s sleep that hardly came. The vibrancy her face once exuded had been replaced by dark wrinkles, conveying the strain of a long-term, painful existence.
She adjusted her head around on the small pillow. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” Eve sighed. “I’m 46 years old and I’ve been in here five years, still dwelling on the same shit. All I know is I’m glad I can joke about it, I guess, considering where it got me, ya know?”
Sharnell glanced at the cracked, cement floor. “Yeah, I feel ya,” she replied, her head still over the side. “I done been in here seven sum years, still thinking about how I coulda done it different, too. Of all people, I had to catch him fuckin’ my sister! But you know what? I didn’t like my sister’s bitch ass anyway. They both got what they deserved--three bullets for both dey asses. And I don’t regret shit!”
Eve tilted her head and frowned. “You don’t?” she said, surprised. “Damn, I do. Here am I lying in a cold, hard bunk serving 20 years. All because I, the good wife, decided to come home from work early one day to surprise my supposedly faithful husband for his birthday!” Her tone became agitated. “I made fuckin’ dinner plans at this fancy restaurant and everything, just to catch his ass in my bed with a child!”
Sharnell stared at Eve, giving her a moment to vent. “Well,” she sighed, “all we have is each other now. We come from two diff’rent worlds, but we in here for the same damn thing. At least you didn’t get life.”
Eve grinned. She turned her head toward the other end of the cell, staring at the dilapidated walls, torn posters, and nasty commode that her and Sharnell had to share. Just then, a short, chunky prison guard walked down the prison aisle, whistling an annoying happy-go-lucky tune. Eve turned to see the pink-faced older man with the wobble walk, rattling his batten against the steelbars of their cell. He flashed a condescending smile at the women as he walked by; a smile that said, “my ass gets to go home at night.”
Eve hissed at the older man, secretly envying his ability to walk, sleep, and shit anywhere he pleased. She closed her eye for a moment and exhaled. “Well,” she said, “This is my reality now. A master’s degree in education went right down the fuckin’ drain. I have to deal with it. I admit it, though, I do kind of feel sorry for that girl. Derrick manipulated that child. She was only seventeen and I heard she’ll never walk again.”
“Shit, I wouldn’t be,” Sharnell replied. “Look, that fool had a seventeen-year-old ho inside your house, fuckin’ in your bedroom, with her slutty ass leaking pussy juice all over your satin sheets that you paid fo’!”
Eve burst out in laughter, then covered her mouth to suppress the loud chuckles. “Leaking pussy juice, huh?” she said after uncovering her mouth. “Since you put it that way--”
“You know I’m right,” Sharnell cut in. “Think back to that shit five years ago. I mean, really think back, and tell me if you woulda done anything diff’rent.”
Eve pulled the stained sheets from her waist up to her neck and stared at the mattress springs above. She recalled that awful day, visually reliving the events that led up to the moment that would change her life forever. She remembered the screams the moment she walked in the front door—and how the undeniable shrieks of pleasure grew louder as she walked up the steps. She remembered not wanting to believe what she was hearing as she got closer to the bedroom door, still shaking her head in denial, the tears welling up, but none falling yet. She wanted to believe the grunts from the man coming from behind the door belonged to someone else because her husband—a man she had loved, cherished, and committed her life to for 12 years—never made those kind of sounds with her.
She remembered the long, painful moments she endured before gathering the nerve to open the door. It was all like some hazy, awful nightmare; everything seemed to move in slow motion. She remembered pushing the door open and her eyes locking on the adulterous transgression in progress before her eyes, her husband slobbering all over a young girl with lust in his heart. Eve grimaced at each thought of betrayal and the tears finally fell.
She remembered how the young girl screamed upon noticing Eve walk toward the dresser and pulled open the top drawer, grabbing a small gun. She remembered the shots firing…bullets piercing the young girl’s back…her rolling off the bed and falling to the floor…and Derrick pleading for his life, yelling something like, “Baby, please don’t! No!”
The last spotty recollections were of the sick sound of Derrick’s head slamming against the headboard, his motionless, bloody body sprawled out over the bed…her calling 911 moments after her evil deed…a police officer pulling her limp body off of the floor with the smoking gun inches from her feet…the fury she felt upon seeing another officer tending to the crying, wounded girl.
“Leave her fuckin’ ass there!” she remembered screaming before crumpling to the floor and blacking out. “Leave her fuckin’ ass there! Leave her ass fuckin’ ass…”
Then there was silence.
“You know what, Sharnell?” Eve said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I would’ve changed something.”
“Yeah? What?” Sharnell replied.
An evil smile emerged on Eve’s face. “I would’ve made sure I killed that bitch.”
Sharnell grinned and extended a hand out to Eve. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ bout’,” she said. “Gimme some.” Eve slapped her hand and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes.
“All right, girl,” Sharnell said, “I’m takin’ a nap. Dey showin’ Set if Off again tonight. Gots to see that.”
Eve wiped away her tears. “All right, Nel,” she replied, opening her eyes. She turned to the wall closest to her, and ran her hands around a crumpled, taped Polariod picture of her daughter Monica when she was five years old, wearing a pink oversized Parka and a sunshine smile. Her daughter was the only person who gave Eve the power and will to survive her nightmare. Many warm memories of Monica were always dancing around in her head, soothing her. She felt blessed knowing her daughter, now twenty-two years old, forgave her long ago, writing letters and visiting her regularly. The thought of her daughter visiting her the next day from Texas A&M comforted her, and Eve couldn’t wait.
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