Sexual Misconduct (BWWM Romance), page 2
My skin was as smooth as satin. I kept its bright golden-brown complexion oiled and hairless, especially my touchable long stem legs. They gave me the modelesque height of a staggering five foot nine. In my opinion, no other bitch could top my impeccable beauty. My confidence would never be broken. Looking at him in his fitted Armani black business suit, I gathered his wouldn’t either. I hated his virtuous face.
Look at him sitting there with his low well-tapered jet-black hair cut. His green eyes were so bright and colorful the trees envied him. They were so dreamy, emitting sex every time he stared at me. His lips were thin and resembled that of a porcelain doll. He was Caucasian, but liked to tan to add a deep glow to his already lightly bronzed skin. His arms, legs, and chest only adorned very minimal fine hair, which complimented his six-foot physique.
He stayed fit. All of his old pictures showed him, the star athlete playing basketball, football and soccer. But, he hated to go to the gym. Something about them pissed him off. Maybe it was the fact that everyone there eyed whoever was around, sizing him or her up as they worked out. Whatever it was, he did not need it anyway. All he ever did was eat right and bang out a few push-ups every now and then.
With little effort, his body stayed looking like that of a sixteen-year-old stallion. His tailored made business suits filled his physique impeccably, and his expensive taste in clothes left the females with wet panties every time they laid eyes on him. He was the type of man that would go to ends of the earth for a friend in need. A good heart through and through. I used to be that way, in unison with him. But, lately I didn’t know who I was anymore.
We drove well; lived even better in our two story, five bedroom three bathroom single brick family home. It was supposed to be full of life by now, with the pitter-patter of little feet and beautiful flowers all around. But, instead it was a five thousand square foot designer decorated frozen shell. Though beautiful, quiet, and in a great little cul de sac, it was still in the middle of wealthy suburbia hell, Schaumburg, IL. My eyes followed the lines on the wooden table up to his face while he continued to stare down into his favorite newspaper.
I slid into the seat directly across from him, my mug in tow. It seemed like our house being dead and silent did not bother him at all. He was impassive, a trait that I loathed about him. I wished I could walk through life and not let the death of my own flesh and blood bother me either. Life was not that simple for me. However, nothing seemed to worry Chino on that level.
I was sure he felt like he was the finest man in the whole law office. If not he definitely thought he was the most qualified. His daddy was a partner at the firm but Chino, only having been at Pumpkin and Strode for six years, needed to work his way up the ladder just like everybody else. He had been passed up for partner so many times it almost made his head spin. It was one of the most prestigious law offices in the entire Chicago land area.
Getting a top dollar spot was not the easiest thing to do. Besides, his daddy never cut him any slack. Chino’s blue blood background was not enough to dick his way to the top like most spoiled rich kids. Nope, his daddy made his only child work from the ground up; said it built integrity. Pleasing his daddy weighed heavily on his mind daily. He never showed weakness though. Lawyers who did that never made judge, so his daddy drilled into his head.
He was also the youngest in his firm at only thirty-three. So, when I brought my fresh twenty three year old ass up in there five years ago to be his temp, all of the washed up old office sluts were eyeing me down like a hawk. They knew this little middle class black girl from the South Side of Chicago was about to invade on their soil. Nonetheless, I was ready to battle on enemy territory to get what I wanted.
I may not have been as college educated as they were but my mouthpiece was the business that no man could resist. Charm flew out of my mouth when I spoke, hypnotizing them, pulling them in closer. They were always intrigued to know more about me, in a peel back the layers of my onion sort of way. But, none had ever came as close as Chino did. I fell in love almost as instantly as he did. We were married in six months and still work together to this day. Something I was discreetly working on changing very soon, as discreetly as I was a divorce.
“Alright, I’m off.” Chino rose from the table, chucking his cup and saucer in the sink, before leaning in to give me a sensual forehead peck.
“Ugh, whatever.” The disgust was written all over my face plain as day.
However, he strolled on like he was having a happy, normal, peaceful day. His face was blank as he picked up his briefcase and bounced to the door. It pissed me off to my core, boiling my blood. But, I had something that always turned my frown in to a smile. I had something that I only played with when the cat was away. It was a toy that made my stomach flutter and my glands sweaty from the thought of it. I had Brian Jackson, a dark chocolate football player built Mandingo that ate my pussy for what felt like weeks at a time. His tongue vibrated against my clit like none that I had ever experienced. Yeah, Chino was good but Brian was damn good. Thinking about it gave me chills and when he laid his pipe, he did so as if he was the world’s greatest.
I met Brian eight months ago when I decided to go to The Glass House, a quaint little bar in Englewood. Occasionally, I’d go by myself to get away from Chino’s needy ass. I would only get a few drinks then bounce to clear my thoughts in silence. On that day, Brian was sitting at the end of the bar chatting it up with his boys and some hood rat groupies that flocked to them. They were trying to get the men to buy them more drinks. But, as hot as they were dressed, they weren’t looking for some sideline trash to take home.
Once our eyes locked, he was mine. He moved closer to me as I pretended not to care. He stood so close to me that it was hard to ignore the sweet scent of cognac on his breath. It took mine away. There were no words spoken. His finger directed my chin to his lips, nestling his with mine. It wasn’t long before he showed me the back seat of his 2012 jet-black Cadillac Escalade. He opened up the moon roof and the rest was history. The air blew in so cold that my ass nearly froze off. My nipples were so hard when I released them from my bra as the rest of me shivered wildly. Brian made sure to quickly heat me up with the warmth of his tongue and the shelter of his mouth.
“Hey baby.” Licking my lips moist from the very thought of his well-muscled body pressed against mine, placing my Galaxy S2 on speaker.
“Sup girl. What you on?” Brian’s voice was as deep as Barry White’s but smooth enough to have his own distinction.
“Nothing. Thinking about not going to work today. I’d rather come play with you instead.”
“What? You missing work? Now you trippin’ girl. What’s your man gonna say about that? Didn’t you say y’all work together?”
“Brian, you let me worry about that shit. I got this all under control and that whack ass fool wrapped right around my middle finger. Besides, I told you I was trying to get a divorce anyway. I can always find another job.” I rose, placing my cup in the sink, before heading for the living room and flopping down on the couch.
“Your ass is crazy. Well, I gotta work today myself.”
“Work? Fool, you own a string of successful barbershops all over the city. You’re your own boss. Don’t play with me, Brian.”
“I ain’t playin’ with you. How do you think those shops stay open and successful? Somebody’s gotta run around and make sure business is business as usual. I don’t slack on my pimpin’ when it comes to my money baby. Money will always trump pussy any day of the week.” His words were stern but I felt what he spat.
His cockiness was sexy even when he was overcompensating for confidence. It was the first time he had ever told me no or turned me down. Even though I could respect his reasoning, it seemed weird to me that he was doing it. The thoughts in my mind quickly shifted to him giving his time and effort towards someone else’s pussy. The competitive side of me wanted to reach through the phone. I wanted to demand that he tell me whom the bitch was that was taking his time from me. Instead I remained poised acting as if nothing was wrong. Men were one tracked minded and if they thought a woman was too clingy they would drop them in a millisecond. I couldn’t risk losing my fixation. He was mine and I’d be damned if I let another bitch have him.
“Hmm. I guess. So are you going to play with me tonight or what?” My voice flowed as sweetly as poured honey.
“Yeah, I might bite that thang later. Make sure that pussy’s bare for me. I don’t want see no hair on that motherfucka. Ya heard me?”
“There’s no hair on it now. I shaved it proper just for you last night, baby.”
“Oh, word? Last night huh? You giving my pussy away to that fun boy you call your husband?” He sounded as if his face frowned over with anger.
“Never, Brian. Never.”
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll have to make you slide through so I can teach that pussy a lesson it’ll never forget.”
When he said that, I knew it only meant one thing. He was craving to pound my pussy until the cows came home, dry with no lubrication. He was a master at beating it up and leaving me sore for a week, maybe longer. That was his punishment for me when I wasn’t a good bitch for him. Our age difference played a factor in the way he treated me too. He was twenty years older than me at forty-eight years old. Because of that he acted as if I was just another broad who was young, dumb, and full of cum.
Of course I was two of those things, but dumb was never the case. I only played the role for him because he liked submissive women and the sex was the bomb. And when he held me, ran his fingers from my neck to my navel, and kissed me like it was our first time, I fell into a deep trance. One that I never wanted to awaken from. He was my drug, a fix that I needed on a regular basis. That basis would become more regular once I got Chino to sign those papers. I didn’t even need his money. Fuck him. Brian was more than well off and would surely take care of me while I looked for another job.
“Ooo, baby please don’t. I promise I’ve been good. I promise.”
“Don’t beg. If I’m gon’ beat that pussy up then I’m gon’ beat that pussy up and ain’t a damn thing you can say or do about it,” when he spoke, I listened and loved it. “You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy Long Dick.”
“That’s better. Matter of fact, meet me at the usual spot in twenty minutes. I think I need to make time to straighten that ass out a bit.”
Shit. My lips dampened and my thighs destabilized. All I could hope was once I got to our usual motel hideout, he would be gentle and go easy on me. See, fucking him was like a sport. If at first I didn’t succeed in blowing his mind, I would need to try again. I was playing this game to win him over, make him mine, and win his heart. Every time he treated me like the only girl in his world, it’s always taken away the second he thinks he's being disrespected. He was already giving me the good dick, conversation, and money when I wanted it. So he might as well belong to me totally since it already felt like a relationship.
The only thing that was wrong about him was that I felt like he was trying to hide me from someone as I was doing him. He never took me to his house or around none of his friends. It was the ultimate sign that he might have had a secret life, one everyone else knew about but me. I could not prove it and bringing it to him put me at risk of losing him. He was the only thing that made me feel good all year. I could not bare to lose him. Chino did not have the balls to handle me the way my body needed to be controlled. The shockwaves Brian inflicted on my being was the ultimate pleasure.
“Okay baby. I’ll be there,” I giggled.
“If I get there before you do, you ain’t getting none of this mouthpiece, Starla. Fuck with it if you want to.”
He hung up in my face. My eyes stared down at the screen disheveled, one eyebrow raised. Nervousness shot to my palms, while they turned into soft moist towelettes. I was about to stuff the phone inside my black leather Michael Kors satchel perched upon the coffee table, when it rang back. The number was all too familiar and there was no way in hell I was about to answer that shit. I was in a damn good mood and it seemed like he had a radar for it. Like he got a tingling as to when to fuck it up before I had too much fun without him.
Chino was a pathetic excuse for a man in my eyes. He could not even impregnate a healthy child inside of me. He played a pivotal role in ruining my life, not telling me until our daughter got sick that his little sister died of the same thing when she was little. At least then I would have had a choice as to whether or not I wanted to have kids with him. I would have had a fucking choice. Yet another thing he stole from me.
Shaking my head, I brushed those thoughts off and tossed that water under the bridge, as I did mentally with the marriage. I snatched up my purse scurrying out the door. Being late was not an option with Brian and neither was upsetting him. I remote started my Infiniti QX56, refusing to take the Benz that matched the one Chino drove everyday. I hopped in and laid my foot on the gas like it was a boulder. I was not even thinking of calling Chino back, no matter how many times he rang my phone off the hook. And, I was not thinking about work either. Being a secretary was not the hardest job in the world. I’m sure he could get whatever file or conference call he fucking needed on his own. Fuck him.
Chapter 2
Chino
It was Friday. Starla had not been into work in three days. Every time I called her she refused to answer the phone and did not show her face until late in the evening, 8pmish. I settled in on one of the black leather couches, thinking about what the hell I was going to say to her. Once she brought her ass through that front door, it was mine. She had been playing these games with me since Kenya's death but she had milked that sympathy card too long.
I’d been taking it and taking it but enough was enough. Tonight, I was going to finally confront her on her bullshit. Whatever she was out there doing, did not matter to me. The only thing I wanted her to do was promise to change and stand on it. All I wanted was for her to be my loving wife again, nothing more. I grew restless from waiting. My cell vibrated the glass end table wildly.
“Jacobs.”
“Hey guy. It’s after hours and you still answer the phone with only your last name. Get your mind off of work for a change and live a little,” Mario yelled so loud, he damn near busted my eardrum.
“Yeah, well we’ve been friends since college and you would think I would have gotten used to your loud crazy mouth by now.” A sigh of disappointment resounded from my lips through the receiver. “What’s up, bro?”
“Man, are you in the house sobbing over that wife of yours again? You need to cut that shit out and come hang with me tonight at the club or something.” He sounded as if he was already at the club with the loud music banging in the background.
“Um, I’m not really in the mood for partying tonight, Mario. I think I’m just gonna lay down and catch some z’s.” No matter how hard I tried to conceal it, depression resonated through my voice anyway.
“I don’t like the sounds of that man. Chino, you are too good of a brother to be going out like that over some female. If she doesn’t want you bro, then its time to move on. More fish in the sea. You need to jump your white ass in the shower and come outside to the club with my white ass. Huh? Huh? What do you say bro?”
Mario was very persistent in everything that he did. Some things never change once you graduate from college. In part, it’s what made him a damn good lawyer. But, I was in no mood to be watching females dance all around me. I'd only stand there sulking, wishing I were at home with my wife. I was no quitter. My dad did not give up on my mom and God rest her soul she did not give up on him either.
At least my dad had the dignity to wait until after we took her off life support from the car accident to begin sowing his wild oats. If he did cheat, it was unbeknownst to me. Cheating was not for everybody and I was one of those people. No, I wanted to fight for my marriage. That's what people in love did, right? They fought. Unfortunately, that road was a two way street.
“You know what, Mario? I think I’m going to go ahead and sit this one out bro. I’ll talk to you at the office on Monday.”
“Wait' huh? No, you’re not just going to brush me off like that dude. I’ll call and check on you tomorrow. You’d better hope I don’t just pop by. And, don’t think you will get off by not answering the door because you know I have spare keys.”
“Ugh, alright dude. Alright. Hit me tomorrow.”
“Alright and Chino, don’t get all worked up over her. The sooner you leave her alone the better off you’ll be. She doesn’t want you bro. I know it’s hard but you might want to learn to accept it.”
As much as it stung me to hear those words, Mario was right. At some point, I would have to get over Starla. I would need to realize that she had been over me for an entire year now. She showed no signs of wanting to reconcile. Hell, we lived like roommates and I was the only one trying to keep this lie we called a marriage alive. She had already moved on, surprising me with not even showing up to visit the grave of our daughter. The anniversary of her death was two weeks ago. I was truly at a lost for words, staring down at her grave alone. Blinking my eyes back to present reality, I could think of nothing to do to pass the time. And, as I turned to my cell for the time, I began to wonder if she was ever coming home this time. 9:25pm.
An hour later, I found myself standing in my glass shower. My body was so lathered up, I could have clogged the drain with suds. The rain of the shower covered the tears I tried so desperately to hide from everyone. Starla, Mario, even my own dad all knew that I was bleeding internally. It leaked so profusely that it had me in denial for a long time about my serious problem.
It was simply too hard for me to believe that she could destroy what we built so easily. Especially when she tried so hard to get me to notice her in the beginning. We started this relationship off with hate. In this day and age, the world still judges people. We were at the forefront simply because we are an interracial couple. Our love was cultivated through hate and now it looked as if we would end on it as well. The hate between us. Funny part about it was that I loved her through the struggle like a moth to the flame. And, I love her still. She is my air.
