Contrasts (22 page)

A little while ago I got a message from Watts saying Ann could rest all day tomorrow. The guy who was Rona’s boyfriend is one of Watts’ favorite people.

In fact, Watts convinced the Giants to give the kid a try. I think his name is Dan Morgan. Rona made Ann give him a blow job while Rona instructed her. I wonder if Ann will want to watch the game.

I want to go to sleep, but I keep imagining what’s happening in the bedroom.

Paul slept fitfully on the couch. A little after nine the next morning he was awakened by John who stood over him grinning. “You know, Paulie, I think your wife is really beginning to feel them letters on her ankle bracelet. I think she’s starting to love big black cock. Even after all that action last evening, she sucked me off twice after we went to bed and we fucked three times; the last one this morning. She knows how I like my cock cleaned after I fuck her so she opens her mouth for it without me saying anything. And that mouth of hers...Jesus! Hot and wet. She loves kissin.....did you know that?” He laughed shaking his head. “The woman loves kissin....can’t get enough.” He took his coat from the rack in the hall. At the door he turned back and gave Paul a thumbs up, “Be sure to watch the Giants game today. Your wife told me that Rona and her boyfriend, Danny, taught her how to suck cock. If he plays football as well as your wife sucks black cock, the fuckin Giants are going to the Super Bowl!” Still laughing, he closed the door behind him.

Paul ran the dishwasher and cleaned the dining room. He rolled the futon up and tied it, then put the table and chairs back where they belonged. He took a shower in the spare bathroom and waited until noon to tap on the bedroom door. There was no answer so he cautiously opened it. The room smelled strongly of sex. Ann lay on her side facing him. She was naked and asleep. He noticed Albertson’s cum seeping from her slit and some beginning to dry around her lips. The bedding was spotted and in places still damp. The thought crossed his mind that he would like to go down on her just as she was and to kiss her mouth. He wondered how it would be to clean her pussy just as she had cleaned Albertson’s cock.

She stirred and opened her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Twelve twenty. Do you want to sleep a little longer?”

She ran the back of her hand over her puffy lips and frowned, “No. I want to shower and I’d like to watch the game this afternoon.”

“Watts said you could have a day of rest,” he paused. “Yesterday must have been exhausting,” he said.

She glared up at him. “How many times did you jerk off?” she said.

He went into the kitchen and made breakfast for her while she showered. While she watched the game he changed the bedding and put the sheets in the washer along with the shear robe and the pink nightie. He joined her in the living room for the last half of the game. They didn’t talk. In the closing minutes of the game Danny Morgan broke free and ran for seventy eight yards and the winning touchdown! Ann smiled. Paul stood and started toward the kitchen to begin making their supper, “That guy’s a New York super star. Did you know he and Watts are good friends? It was Watts who convinced the Director of Personnel of the Giants to give him a tryout.” Ann didn’t respond.

That night just as Ann was drifting off to sleep her NWS phone buzzed. She could hear Paul snoring in the other bedroom. When she saw the caller was Darnell the funny feelings in her stomach began immediately and her breathing quickened. She flipped open the phone, “Yes, Darnell.”

“Ain’t you fuckin forgettin somethin?”

“I’m sorry. I mean, thank you, honey, for calling.”

“I see the guy you learned to suck cock on won the fuckin football game.”

“I know.”

“You watch the game?”

“Yes, honey. I guess everyone in New York watched it.”

“What if this fuckin Danny called you and wanted to take you to some fancy place for dinner and you could be with him while he’s signin fuckin autographs and stuff?”

“Darnell, he’s not going to do that.”

“I’m sayin what if?”

“I guess I couldn’t very well refuse.”

“What if I called the same night and told you to come to my place and suck my dick. What would you do then?”

“Darnell, honey, that’s not a fair question.”

“Yeah, well you think about it anyway.”

“Ok, I will.”

“I’m strokin my black dick right now. You thinkin about me strokin my black dick while I’m talkin to you?”

“I wasn’t, but now I am.”

“What you thinkin?”

She took a moment before replying, “I’m imagining how long and smooth and black it is and how long and thin your fingers are.”

“You thinkin how it looks slidin up inside your white pussy?”

She placed her hand on her crotch and moved her index finger along the length of her opening. “Yes, honey. I imagine that a lot.”

“You get hot and wet thinkin about my dick goin in your pussy?”

“Yes, very hot and wet. Always.”

“You hot and wet now?”

“I am.”

“You playin with your pussy.”

“Yes, honey.”

“Maybe I show up in your class tomorrow or maybe I won’t.”

“I hope you do.” She paused, “Really, I...I’d like to see you.”

“You gonna be wearin somethin sexy?”

“Yes, I promise.” She thought,
‘My God, I can’t believe what I’m saying. This kid is a street punk and one of my students.’

“You tease me, try to make me hard?”

“As much as I can...but...Mr. Watts doesn’t want me to get fired. We have to be careful.”

“Ah fuck that. My Uncle’s a big man and all, but I don’t like when he makes rules and that shit.”

“You know about the contract and how I must do what he says.”

“Yeah, I know, but after class, if I even come to class, you drive me to my house and you do whatever the fuck I say?”

The tone of his voice had turned mean. She wasn’t sure how she should answer. “Well, honey, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“If I don’t come to class ain’t gonna be no fuckin bridge. You gonna do what I say or you gonna be markin Darnell absent in your book tomorrow.”

Her swollen clitoris was slippery under her fingers. Her nipples were stiff and ached. “I will,” she said.

“Will what?”

“Will do what you say.”

“Whatever the fuck I say, no matter what?”

“Yes, honey, whatever you say.”

“You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

“Real bad.”

“You wantin me all the time, right?

“Yes, honey, I try not to, but I find myself thinking about you, about us.....about how I am with you....and....and...I want you; I want to get on my knees for you.”

He clicked off just as she brought herself to a powerful climax. She lay awake for a long time trying to understand what had just happened. She thought about the question he put to her: either suck his dirty cock or have a splendid dinner date with Danny Morgan? He had to be full of himself to even ask such a question. She’d said she wanted him and wanted him real bad, but that was only because she was about to bring herself off. It wasn’t true. But she wondered why it seemed important to her that he come to class tomorrow. He’d only embarrass and humiliate her in front of her students, and possibly get her fired. She could tell he was angry when he kept pressing her about doing whatever he told her to do. She knew whatever things he had in mind would demean and humiliate her. She felt certain he wanted to reduce her to some passive, deferential trophy slut he could degrade in front of his low life friends and use to inflate his pathetic ego. She concluded there was absolutely nothing remotely positive about him. He was short and ugly. He smelled bad. He was skinny and arrogant beyond belief. He had no sense of decency, no feelings for anyone but himself. If she gave in, even a little to him, he would hurt her. Why then had she said she’d do whatever he wanted her to do? It was a moment of madness. After last night it was a wonder she wasn’t completely and permanently mad. She promised herself she’d take back what she had agreed to. She’d drive him home after school and leave him off at his front door.

Even though Paul had changed the bedding, the room still smelled faintly of sex. The shoes she had worn were in the corner of the room where she’d kicked them off. Perfume she’d spilled stained the rug. She remembered how gently John Albertson had treated her when they’d first entered the bedroom and how slow his lovemaking had been. She loved the smell and taste of his black skin. That was true of most of the black men she’d been with. She loved kissing him. His lips were soft and puffy and warm. He teased her mouth with his tongue. Like all the men last night and those before last night his cock was twice the size of Paul’s and he knew how to bring her to the edge over and over before letting her cum. How many times had they fucked? Three. John Albertson, twice her age, bald, pot bellied, and black. Contrasts again. She was amazed at the stamina of the black men she’d given herself to. Even old Elijah. They stayed hard and fucked her until they knew she would cum. And ten minutes afterward they were hard again. Watts had been right. Black men were superior, very superior at least physically, probably intellectually too if given half a chance. It was difficult for her to believe that she’d serviced all five men twice before John even took her to the bedroom for the night. She remembered waking sore and exhausted, but not particularly ill used. Imagining Darnell stroking his beautiful long black cock, she fell into a troubled sleep.

After her morning shower, she went about trying to select the clothes she would wear to school. She began by picking the most conservative thing in her closet, a black pinstriped suit with a narrow skirt that reached just below her knees and a white broadcloth dress shirt. The suit jacket would cover most of it. Black pumps with the requisite high heel, but no openings. Before dressing, she sat at her table and put aside the bright red and the dark red lipsticks. She opened her old makeup box and selected a pale pink. She chose light eye shadow and mascara. Her special phone buzzed.

“You gettin ready?” It was Darnell.

“Yes. I should be leaving in another half hour.”

“What you wearin? I’m tryin to think whether to come or not.”

She hesitated. “I haven’t quite decided.”

“Well, decide. I ain’t got all fuckin day!” He sounded angry. She knew he would be difficult and demanding. She glanced at the pinstriped suit on the bed and the pink lipstick she held in her hand.

“I thought a tight red sweater with a scooped neck and a short red pleated skirt, the kind you like me to wear.” She waited. He didn’t respond. “Oh, yes, and red open toed heels, the very high heels.”

“The sweater button down the front?”

“No, but the neck is wide and elastic,” she paused, “easy to slip down over my shoulders.”

“Are you sayin you’re gonna show me your tits?”

“No, not in school, but...but...afterward if you tell me to.”

“How about your cunt?’

She felt a surge of heat flow to her crotch. “Yes.”

“You want to show me your cunt?”

“I want to please you.”

“I ain’t hearin what you call words of affection.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Your call surprised me and I...I’m...”

He interrupted, “What we talked about last night, you makin me hard in class and doin what I say afterward?

“Yes, honey. I’ll try in class...try to excite you, and...and afterward I’ll do anything you tell me to do.”

“Yeah, I know you will cause now you my white bitch.” He clicked off.

“Yes, Darnell, maybe you’re right, maybe I am your white bitch” she whispered to herself after the phone had gone dead. Her pussy was wet. She sat at her table for several minutes before selecting a bright red lipstick, darker eye shadow and mascara.

On her way to her first class the principal motioned her into his office. “I don’t like to say this, Mrs. Gardner, but these past few days your attire has become, well considerablyless conservative than in the past. Both students and faculty have been commenting upon it.”

“I’m sorry, but I just felt I’d been too conservative. My students often teased me about wearing granny clothes. I thought I’d be more effective if I adopted some of their style.”

“Well, in all candor I have to say that I hardly recognize you these days. But I just want to caution you not to carry this new look too far.”

The tight red sweater revealed considerable cleavage, but not enough to expose the black spade tattoo. She had removed the ankle bracelet and covered the other tattoo with adhesive. There were suggestive remarks and whistles as she clicked through the halls on her four inch heels. In her classroom the students seemed more relaxed and open than they had in the past. They were ready to joke and kid around, but also paid more attention and asked more questions, especially about the hardships of the black slaves and the terrible racism after the slaves were freed.

The day seemed to drag. Before her last class she went to the faculty restroom and reapplied her makeup. Her lips were still a bit swollen from Saturday so they seemed even fuller than usual. The gloss made them wet and shiny. When she returned to the classroom students were filing in. She felt her heart racing. To her surprise Darnell was in his seat in front of her desk. Instead of baggy shorts, he wore a pair of faded jeans. Instead of the torn tee shirt, he had on a black button down shirt about three sizes too big. He’d rolled the cuffs back so his thin forearms and wrists were visible. Instead of the baseball cap, on his head was a polka-dotted do-rag. On his feet were the same filthy high top sneakers. One of the boys entering with her said, “Wow, lookin mighty fine today, Mrs. Gardner.”

“The brother who can’t see so good still up front,” Shawna complained.

“Red is sure your color,” another boy said.

“Your husband is a damn lucky man,” a boy in the back of the room shouted.

Darnell turned around to face the class, “Her husband ain’t a man, he’s a fuckin pussy,” he said.

They all looked at Ann waiting for her to haul him off to the principal’s office. She felt the color rise to her cheeks and pretended she hadn’t heard Darnell, but everyone knew she had. A few of the girls exchanged puzzled looks. Under her breath Shawna said, “Somethin goin on here.”