Head Bangers Page 8

  He looked nervous and flagged the bartender over. “I hope you won’t hold that against me.” Once the bartender was in front of him, he ordered a Heineken. “Would you like to refresh your drink?”

  “Sure,” I replied. “Thanks. As for holding something against you, I’m here chilling, enjoying the sights, having a few drinks. That’s it. No expectations.”

  “Are you from D.C.?” Frank asked me.

  “No, I’m from Detroit, too. In fact, the reason that I was staring at you earlier is because I know your wife.” His face was about to turn blood red. “In fact, she asked me to see if I could get you to cheat on her while you were on a supposed business trip.”

  Frank struggled to catch his breath. Then, the idiot finally spoke. “But I didn’t try to cheat. I never mentioned sleeping with you.”

  “No, not yet, but you were about to. Why else would you take off your ring?”

  “I…uh…I…”

  I laughed. “Take your time.”

  “I took it off because it was hurting my finger. I asked Andrew to hold it so that I could rest my hand.”

  “Do you realize how fucking dumb you sound?” I picked up my fresh Pink Lady. “You better not ever try to cheat because you cannot lie your way out of a paper bag. Faithful better be your middle name from now on.”

  “You’re right.” He jumped up from the bar. “Please don’t tell Donna about this. It really was innocent.”

  He stumbled back to his booth, leaving his beer. He looked like someone who had seen a ghost when he relayed what had happened to his friend, Andrew. Andrew stared at me for a few seconds and then I winked. He fell out laughing when he realized that I had played his friend.

  I waited a few more minutes and then walked over to their booth, delivering Frank’s beer to him. As I sat down beside Andrew, who scooted over to allow it, I put the beer down in front of Frank.

  “Here, you better drink this before it gets warm.”

  Frank glared at me, obviously because of a bruised ego. “Thanks.”

  “Hello, Andrew, I’m Effie White.” I shook Andrew’s hand, whose first name was borderline identical to my last name: Andrews. “Nice to meet you.”

  Andrew chuckled. “Effie White, huh? You looked different in the movie.”

  “Movie?” Frank inquired.

  Andrew glanced at his friend and then back into my eyes. “Effie White is the role Jennifer Hudson played in the movie Dreamgirls and Jennifer Holliday portrayed in the stage play.”

  Frank looked dumbfounded. “So, you were lying to me?”

  “Like you lied to me, Frankie Poo. Or at least tried to.” I reached under the table and started rubbing Andrew’s thigh. He did not resist, or even flinch. “Don’t you think you better go call Donna and check on the kids?”

  “Who said I have kids?” He looked around the bar; then at his friend. “I’m telling you, Andrew. Someone’s paying her to spy on me.”

  Andrew sighed. “Frank, this beautiful young lady flipped the script on your macking game. She’s not from Detroit because somehow, some way, I would have met her already, and she doesn’t know Donna or any of your business.”

  “So how does she know that I have three kids?”

  “Wow!” I exclaimed. “I only knew about Frank, Jr. When did you and Donna have the other two?”

  “See!” Frank was about to ricochet out of the booth. “She knows about Junior.”

  Andrew and I fell out laughing. That was an educated guess and we both knew it. Frank was clueless.

  Frank got up and straightened his suit jacket. “Andrew, we should be going. Our meeting is early tomorrow.”

  Andrew waved him off; especially since I was now rubbing all over his dick under the table. “I’m a night owl. You go ahead.”

  “Yeah, go check in with the missus,” I joked. “Tell Donna that I said wassup.”

  Frank glared at me. “You’re nothing but trouble and I cannot, and will not, leave my friend down here in this bar with you.”

  “Why not? You want him for yourself?” I eyed Frank up and down. “Don’t tell me that you’re on the downlow, too. Poor Donna. I might need to call her from my cell phone right now and tell her that she should go ahead and hire that divorce attorney that I recommended.” I quickly thought of a popular street name in Detroit, a place that I had only visited once. “He has an office over on Altwater Street.”

  Frank’s mouth fell open. I had rendered him totally speechless. He gasped for breath and then finally stomped off like a little punk.

  “You’re good,” Andrew said, as he watched his friend panic. “Frank might have a heart attack behind that shit, Effie!”

  “My real name’s Hope,” I confessed. “And your friend will be fine. I doubt he’ll ever cheat on his wife again though.”

  “Oh, I would bet my bottom dollar on that.” Andrew laughed and then placed Frank’s wedding ring on the table. “He forgot to take this.”

  “You should tell him that you lost it. That’ll teach him.”

  “Damn, what do you have against my boy?”

  “Nothing. I don’t even know him. I like fucking with people.”

  “I can see that.”

  “You like fucking with people, Andrew?” I rubbed his dick harder. It felt good under my fingertips; even through his pants. “You have a nice-size dick.”

  “Why, thank you. I haven’t had any complaints lately.”

  “Lately? Oh, was it a pencil dick back in your younger years?” I grinned. “How old are you anyway, Andrew? Please tell me that you’re at least thirty.”

  “Why? Do you have a minimum age requirement or something?”

  “Kind of. I’m in my early twenties and men my age do absolutely nothing for me anymore. I need a man with vast experience.”

  “Well, I’m thirty-eight, Hope, and I definitely have vast experience.”

  “How many women have you ever fucked?”

  He was taken aback, like I had asked him how many men he had ever fucked. “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think? How many brothers have you gotten down with?”

  “Not nearly enough.” I could tell that my response shocked him. “But I plan on adding you to my roster within the next fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Oh, so it’s like that?”

  “Yes, it is exactly like that.”

  “And what if I refuse?”

  “You’re not that crazy.” I leaned over and blew in his ear. “You know you want these dick sucking lips all over your thing. Never mind about the question. I pegged you for a man whore the second I laid eyes on you.”

  “Man whore?”

  “Yes. I’m willing to bet that you’ve never been married. That you don’t have any kids. That you’ve slept with a ton of women, mostly because you have a fear of commitment. You may tend to be boyfriendish at times and make some women think you’re digging only them, but that’s merely a façade. You yank out that singles card of yours at the first sign of trouble.”

  Andrew shook his head. “If you think that I’m that evil, why are you sitting here rubbing on my johnson?”

  “Because I came here to get fucked and you’re the best candidate for the job. With man whores, I don’t have to worry about anyone catching feelings or trying to be my man afterward.” I released his dick and ran my fingertips down his chest. “That means we can go up to your room, presuming that you’re not rooming with Frank, and do some perverted, freaky shit to each other and then move on with our separate lives.”

  Andrew’s reply was short and to the point. “I’m not rooming with Frank.”

  “Then let’s make moves.”

  Five minutes later, we were getting off the elevator on the eighteenth floor and making our way to room 1806. I couldn’t wait to get his ass inside that hotel room. Andrew was the kind of man that was made for fucking and then discarding. Any woman who would allow herself to think that he could ever exclusively belong to her was fooling herself. He was placed on the Earth to be enj
oyed by the masses and to tap many asses.

  When we were at the doorway and he was sticking his key card in, I informed Andrew, “I want to suck your dick first. I love sucking dick.”

  “You’ll get zero argument from me.”

  “You ever had a woman put you in a suplex?”

  We entered the dim room and he turned on the light switch, illuminating the posh atmosphere. There was modern leather furniture and a king-sized bed was the centerpiece of the scene. The bedding was expensive and looked extremely comfortable.

  “Isn’t the suplex a wrestling move?” Andrew asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “No, I can’t honestly say that I’ve ever wrestled with a woman.”

  “Well, you’ll enjoy my kind of wrestling.”

  There was a message light on the hotel phone. “I should check that,” Andrew said.

  “It’s probably Frank, worried about his wedding ring, or concerned that I’m in here interrogating you about his comings and goings.”

  Andrew laughed and took his cell phone out of his pants pocket. “Damn, I have nine missed calls from him. I forgot that I had my cell on silent.”

  “Told you so. Men are such creatures of nature. Your buddy wants to be a player but he’s not player material.”

  I sat down on the bed and kicked off my shoes.

  Andrew sat down beside me, lifted my left foot and started massaging it. “What makes a man player material?”

  “You should know.” I wiggled my toes. What he was doing felt damn good! “Here you are, with a fine, sexy stranger in your hotel room and it took you little to no effort to get me up in this camp. Just a charming smile and a banging-ass body and a few feels of your massive, elephantine dick.”

  “Now, I don’t want you to be disappointed. I’m not working with the shortest straw in the box, but there’s nothing on me resembling an elephant.”

  “Andrew, I already peeped out the size of your dick downstairs, remember?” I grabbed his dick again through his pants; it was hard enough to split bricks. “I like what you’re working with.” I pushed him down on the bed and started unbuckling his belt. He was submissive like a new puppy; a pit. “To answer your question, a player is someone who has it going on so hard that all his women can know about each other and still want to fuck him. Your boy, Frank, doesn’t have it like that. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit if I knew his wife, Donna, or not. You feeling me?”

  “That’s a deep philosophy.” Andrew lifted his hips slightly so I could pull his pants down around his ankles. “So you think that I’m player material?”

  “I think you don’t give a fuck what I think. You simply want to commence to fucking my brains out.”

  He chuckled because he knew my ass was on point.

  “You see, I look at life differently than a lot of women. I don’t believe in fantasy and I’m not delusional. Maybe back in the olden days, men might have respected women, remained faithful, and practiced reciprocity in relationships, but those days are over. Shit, women are the new men, if you really want to know the truth.”

  Andrew sat up on his elbows as I was undoing the laces on his expensive black leather shoes. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Brothers are sitting on their asses, burning out PlayStation controllers while sisters are busting their asses and paying all the bills. I’m not that chick, though. Women are demanding to get their pussies sucked, even though a lot of bastards still pretend like they don’t get down like that. Ain’t no man getting this pussy without eating it.” I glared at him. “Just so you know.”

  He laughed. “I hear you. I love eating pussy.”

  “That’s a good thing.” I pulled his boxers down below his balls and his dick sprouted out like a tree. “Women are the only ones that get down with a real threesome. Men don’t comprehend the shit.” I started rubbing my hand up and down his hard shaft. “When there are two women and a man involved in a threesome, the two women understand that they’re supposed to go at each other. Suck each other’s tits; eat each other out; the whole damn experience.”

  “Threesomes are the shit!” Andrew exclaimed. “And so is your hand job.”

  “Humph! But let’s flip the script. If I had suggested a threesome with you and Frank while we were down in the bar, you two would have come up here and tried to gang bang me instead of having an actual threesome.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that a threesome, by definition, involves all three people fucking each other. You and your boy would have had to suck each other off and ram dicks up each other’s asses for it to be a true threesome…and let me watch you go at it.”

  Andrew had an expression of pure disgust on his face. “Hell to the fucking no! I ain’t nobody’s faggot.”

  “If you fuck a man during a threesome, it is a sexual experience and doesn’t mean you’re gay, any more than a woman could be considered a lesbian if she does shit with another chick during a threesome. It’s simply something to do.”

  Andrew frowned. “You’re going make me lose my erection, if you keep talking like that.”

  “Shit, I don’t want that to happen so I’ll stop spitting the truth. You can’t handle it anyway. Let’s see if you can handle my suplex.”

  I pulled him off the bed and led him over to the sofa in the room, then pushed the coffee table out of the way.

  “Damn, you’re not serious about wrestling, are you?” he asked in a panic.

  “No, I’m not going to slam you down or anything. Just show you a couple of my moves.” I sat down on the sofa and pulled him toward me, until his dick was about to slap me in the forehead. “Come here, Mr. Detroit.”

  He did not hesitate to bring it and I started sucking his dick with a fury; deep throating him from the first second. I gave him a few minutes of my head action, to get him comfortable. He was moaning like a bitch, too. Then I decided to hit him with some shit that I knew he had never experienced before. I pulled his knees onto the sofa beside my hips and then slammed his chest down backward on the floor so that his dick was elevated and his head was on the carpet. He winced at first but then I bent over and started sucking him for dear life. The mixture of pain and pleasure drove him insane. It was like working out on a Nautilus machine and having your dick sucked at the same time.

  Andrew started getting into it. Then he started running his fingers through my hair and whispering things like “Oh, shit!” and “Damn, baby!”

  I finished him off and he exploded. I did not let him cum in my mouth. When I realized the moment was fast-approaching, I brought him to his climax with my hand and his semen spurted down and onto his chest.

  After that, I rode Andrew’s face for a good thirty minutes and then I slayed his dick up in that hotel room. I worked that Negro over with a vengeance and then blew him a kiss on my way out of the room.

  “Leave me your number,” Andrew beckoned as I was about to shut the door.

  I paused and stared at him. “Thanks for the fuck, but no thanks about repeating it. It was a one-time thing. Go back to Detroit and do you.” I giggled. “Tell Frank to give Donna and Frank, Jr. a kiss for me.”

  With that, I left out and allowed the hotel door to slam shut behind me.

  FAITH

  Kevin had been acting kind of strange lately. Nothing that I could put my finger on but he did not seem like himself; the man that I fell in love with. Damn, did I say that? Yes, I did. It was love. At least love as I knew it. I was feeling him like no other, and it was not all about the sex. It was all about him. His maturity—both mentally and spiritually. His pillow talk. His intellect. His compassion. His concern for me.

  We were at this holiday bazaar in Largo, MD. The vendors had wonderful gift items for Christmas and Kwanzaa. I found this beautiful black doll for Hope, dressed in red, green and white. Even though we were way too old to play with dolls, Hope liked to collect them and there was zero doubt that she would cherish it.

  I bought my mother some African je
welry for a Christmas present and I purchased a wooden African mask for Daddy.

  “You’re acting like Santa Claus,” Kevin said, as I finished up my transaction with the vendor selling the masks.

  “Christmas is a couple of weeks away. I’m not into last-minute shopping. Too stressful.”

  I tried to take his hand so we could walk to the next vendor, but he pulled his hand away from me and put it in his pocket.

  “Faith, I wish you’d reconsider and stay here for Christmas…with me.”

  I felt terrible because I could tell that he was serious about wanting to share the holiday with me.

  “I can’t, Kevin. Hope can’t drive to Atlanta alone. Neither she nor my parents would ever forgive me.”

  “Why can’t she fly? I’ll pay for her ticket,” he offered.

  I shook my head. “You don’t know my sister.” I paused in front of a female vendor who was selling body oils. I was out of my favorite—360 Degrees—and wondered if she had any. That would save me a trip to where I normally purchased it. “I really want you and Hope to meet soon.”

  “I’m surprised.” Kevin glared at me. “It’s been your practice, these past several months, to keep our relationship hidden.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It isn’t? So your parents and sister know all about me?”

  I hesitated before responding, realizing that I needed to choose my words carefully.

  “Well, do they know about me or not?” he asked persistently.

  “They all know that I’m seeing someone special but they don’t know any of the details.”

  “Can I help you with something?” the young woman behind the six-foot table asked.

  “Do you have 360 Degrees?”

  “Yes, what size did you want?”

  “I’ll take a two-ounce bottle.”

  “Got you covered,” she said and then went about her business of squirting some from a large plastic bottle into a glass one with a roller on top.

  Kevin was quiet the entire time that I finished the purchase. In fact, he walked off and deserted me. Moments later, I found him in the area where all the food vendors were located. He was grubbing down on a fried fish sandwich and drinking homemade lemonade. I was offended that he had not purchased me anything but I decided to let it go.