Couples of South Pointe Lake

26. Chilling Waiting

There was a KFC restaurant located two buildings down the street from Blondie’s establishment.  Becca went in there and ordered herself a hamburger, with French fries, and a medium-sized Coke to go along.  She carried her meal tray to a booth that afforded her a view of the bakery.  She intended to see when Blondie and Ray decided to leave.  Blondie’s car was in a parking lot across the street from the bakery.  Becca would have spotted the car earlier had she made it through the front door instead of the back.  She did look around for Ray’s car but found only that belonging to her boss unless they had arrived together.  Becca bit down on her burger while her mind raged as she recalled what she had seen.  She kept looking at the time in her watch each passing minute she sat waiting; it drove the point home that they were still f*****g in Blondie’s secret boudoir.  She cursed her ill-fated timidity at not daring to barge into that room and confront them.  That would have eased her mind tremendously instead of sitting here waiting on them to hurry up and be done.  Her mind couldn’t repress wanton images of their copulating feat the longer she ate her meal.  Becca envisioned them getting dressed when Ray decides he’s not done and opts for another s*x round with her boss.  It infuriated her to imagine that going on right now.  

Becca finished her meal, including her drink, and was about giving up on the wait when the bakery’s door opened and out came Blondie in a pink cashmere outfit.  She was looked resplendent and well-groomed, unlike what Becca had witnessed of her having s*x in her secret room.  Becca’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses as she watched Blondie move aside for Ray, who came out after her and then locked the front door.  They crossed the street, away from Becca’s view, toward the parking lot.  Becca stayed in the booth, tensed, as she watched them slip away.  She wondered whether it was too late to go after them or to remain where she was and pray that they drove past her.  As luck would have it, that was what happened.  She saw Blondie’s vehicle sped from the end of the street, and she was quick enough to shield her face from the window as Blondie blew past the KFC restaurant.  Becca did sight her in the driver’s seat, but to her surprise, there was no Ray in the vehicle with her; the passenger seat had been empty.

She pushed her glasses up her nose, then grabbed her handbag and left the restaurant.

*          *          *

Bella was lounging in the living room with her legs spread on the sofa’s armrest, puffing on a roll of weed, while aiming a remote at the TV screen.  She stopped to listen when she heard a car pull to a stop in front of her home.  Bella shot to her feet in a panic, fearing that her nightmare involving Bobby Red was about to commence again now that he had sprung himself out of prison and returned home to finish what he had begun.  She didn’t want to think that was true—his truck was where he had left it in front of the yard, and she possessed the keys.  Also, she had visited the Cumberland County court during opening hours to file divorce paperwork, including a restraining order for him not to be anywhere near her vicinity.  Bella had slapped on a bandage on her cheek, where she had suffered the gash.  There had been an outpouring of sympathy from the county court clerk while she concluded her business.  She ripped off the bandage when she returned home and began rolling blunts as a worthy prize for her earned victory.  

Bella came to the window, peered past the curtains and then relaxed her nerves when she recognized the sedan parked outside.  The driver got out of his car and approached her front door.    

Harold was about to press the doorbell but was surprised when the door flung open to reveal Bella smiling at him.  She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside before he barely got a word out.

“I’ve got f*****g nosy neighbors around,” she said as she then pinned him against the wall, pressed her body pressed against his, and kissed him so passionately.  This was more than Harold expected.  He was gasping by the time she pulled away from him, allowing him to catch his breath and absorb his surprise.  Bella was beaming with so much excitement she could barely contain herself.

“What . . . what the f**k’s going on?”

“Come on,” she wanted to lead him away from the door, but Harold didn’t budge.  Bella came to his side and soothed his worry.  “Come on, will you,” she prodded him, “we’ve got the house to ourselves.”

“What do you mean?  Wait a minute, slow down.  Where’s your man at?”

“Right now, you’re about the only man in my life that I want,” she replied as she led him toward the bedroom.  “Will you quit dragging and come on.  There’s nothing to fear.  I’ve got us some weed waiting in the bedroom.” 

Harold went reluctantly with her, still baffled by what was going on with her.  

He had returned to his apartment nearly an hour ago, drained from slaving through another dreary night at his workplace.  Harold skipped wanting to shower or make himself some breakfast, opting instead to hit the bed and be asleep in no time.  He kicked his shoes across the room and discarded his jacket before falling on the bed, but grumbled unpleasantly when his phone started ringing.  Harold wanted to ignore the call but feared it might have something to do with his workplace.  He chose to answer it and was befuddled when he heard Bella’s distraught voice.  She said it was an emergency and demanded knowing how soon he could get to her place.  Harold became clear-eyed and replied that he could be there in no time; it never occurred to him to inquire whatever it was that befell her.  He leaped into the bathroom to shower, put on some fresh clothes, and then grabbed his keys and dashed out of his apartment.  Harold jumped into his car and gunned his engine to get him here.  He as well didn’t think to call Bella along the way, figuring whatever it was likely had to do with her crazy husband, Red.  It appeared to him like he had been played a prank for nothing.  But then he saw the cut on her cheek, including the apparent redness around her eye, and knew something terrible had gone down.

“What’s with the cut on your cheek?” he asked.

Bella said nothing as she kicked open her bedroom door.  Harold almost expected to see Bobby Red waiting for them, cradling a gun or some other instrument of death, but instead was rewarded with the pleasant sight of her empty bed.  Bella had never invited him into her home with such enthusiasm as she was now displaying.

“So much happened after you dropped me off last night,” she indicated for him to sit on the bed, which he did.  “So much so, I doubt you’d believe if I’d told you on the phone.”

If Harold was expecting her to start talking, he was mistaken.  Bella was cackling at the confused look on his face while she lifted her dress off her head and flung it over her shoulder, then fell into his arms.

*          *          *

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.  We’re f*****g doing this!” Alicia exclaimed at her husband.  Her features beamed with nervous radiance, the likes of which Mike hadn’t observed in her before.  Alicia was all giddy and flush with elation; she looked like she would burst at any moment.  “My God, we’re really doing this?”

“Of course we are, hon,” Mike calmly reassured her.  He held her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze to let her know he was in tune with her feelings.  “And we’re doing it together, remember.”

“Yeah, sure.  Let’s do it then before I f*****g change my mind.”

There was little chance of her doing that, as they were two feet from the gates leading to the Shango’s residence.  Nothing about their action appeared unusual to any passing observer, —just an ordinary couple paying a visit to a neighbor’s home.  What wasn’t known was the deliberate intention that had brought them here.

They strolled past the Shangos’ gate and headed up their driveway, past a crimson-colored Hilux parked a short distance from the house.  They stopped at the front door and pressed the doorbell.  Alicia was attempting to force down her nervousness but with little luck.  Mike raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.  That made her blush.

“You’re doing fine, darling,” he said soothingly.  He, too, was equally excited for both of them.  “I’m certain they’ll accept.”

They were interrupted by the sound of a lock coming undone, then the door opened to reveal Yemi, who wore an apron with colorful stains on it.  Her hair looked messy, but her smile was quick to dispel whatever issues she might be having as she set her eyes on her neighbors.

“How are you, Alicia,” Yemi welcomed them into the foyer.  She exchanged kisses with Alicia and handshakes with Mike.  “So nice of you two to drop by.”

“Looks like we caught you at a wrong time,” said Alicia.  “I hope we weren’t intruding.”

“Nothing more serious than doing some supervisory cleaning in the kitchen.  Come over and see for yourselves.”  She led them down the hallway toward the kitchen.  “I’m doing some remodeling,” she continued.  “The previous wallpaper looked kinda depressing and outdated.  I figure this new one would do.”

Alicia and Mike looked past the doorway and saw two black men in coveralls that were bunched around their waist, layering a lime-green coat of wallpaper on the wall.  They stopped for a moment to glance at Yemi and her visitors before resuming their work.  The ground was laden with spread newspapers and open buckets of paint.  

Yemi led the couple into the living room, inquiring if she could get them something, but they declined.  Mike glanced at Alicia; it was the signal for her to proceed with their mission at hand.

“Your husband, Olu, isn’t around?” Alicia asked.

“Work is what’s got him,” Yemi answered.  “He owns a water distributing company based in Cumberland.  “The Crystal Clear is his brand.”

 “Wow, that’s great.  Anyway, the reason we’re here is that we’d love to have you both over for dinner, say, next tomorrow.”

“Our way of further welcoming you to South Pointe,” Mike added.  He tried not to broaden his smile too much.  This was supposed to be a subject for Alicia to handle, not him.  He was only here for support.

“That sounds lovely,” said Yemi.  “I’ll talk it over with Olu when he gets home.  Really, it’s great to meet couples like you here.  We couldn’t feel more comfortable.”

Their mission over, Mike and Alicia decided to take their leave.  Yemi escorted them toward the gate then waved goodbye at them.  Alicia locked her arm around Mike and punched the air with gleeful happiness at how easy everything had gone for them.

“I told you it would go fine, did I not?” said Mike.

Alicia nodded in agreement.  “Yes, you did, darling.  But we didn’t mention anything about . . . you know.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.  Besides, you said everything that needed to be said.  Whatever the case, they’ll get the hint.”

“I hope so,” Alicia tightened her grip on his hand.  “I sure do hope so.”

Yemi returned to her house and shut the front door.  Two shadows appeared behind her, and she turned to see it was the two black men who had been working in the kitchen.  Neither looked like they intended to continue their paintwork.

“Are they gone?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, they’re gone, Tibbs.”  Yemi came with her arms spread toward both men.  “Now, how about we continue where we left off.”

“Good.  As long as we don’t get any f*****g visitors no more,” Tibbs replied.

“You guys keep getting snooping neighbors,” said the other, whose name was Jonesy.  “The f**k’s the matter with them?  Ain’t they met black folk before?”

“Not in a long time here,” Yemi answered.

She leaned against Tibbs with both hands on his shoulder and kissed him while presenting her backside to Jonesy, who appropriately loosened her apron to reveal her nude body underneath.  He shoved his coveralls down his knees and extracted his feet from it.   He wielded his p***s in his hand and beat it against her derriere.  Yemi responded by wiggling her behind, indicating where she wanted him to do; Jonesy had that in mind as he grabbed her by her waist and inserted his c**k between her soft ass cheeks.   Yemi went on rocking her booty as Jonesy managed to slide between her wet vulva. She gave a gasping cry and jerked forward when Jonesy gave her a home-run thrust.  He slapped her botty but still held onto her with one arm.  Tibbs grabbed a handful of her t**s while she reclined against him.  There was the smacking noise of Jonesy’s pelvis connecting with her butt, and Tibbs lowering his head to suck on her t**s.  Yemi was panting frantically while submitting herself to the rhythmic crests of pleasure slamming into her body.  At one point, she rested her chin against Tibbs’s shoulder, gasping into his ear while her arms locked around his mid-section, holding onto him so as not to fall over.

“Awwwhhhh . . . yeah!  Oh yeah!  f**k me just like that,” she whimpered.

Jonesy stopped to catch his breath.  He pulled out of her and tottered awkwardly when he clumsily stepped on his coveralls.  Tibbs used the time to dig himself out of his pair, and kicked his across the hallway.  He stroked his c**k while Yemi attended to Jonesy, pelting him with kisses.  Tibbs grabbed her arm, pulled her toward him, and then lifted her off the floor into his arms.  Yemi locked her feet behind his waist while her arms grasped onto his backside.  Tibbs held onto her with one arm while his other grabbed his c**k and applied it in search of her p***y’s entrance.  He cursed his clumsiness but struck gold when his c**k eventually found her entry.  He hitched Yemi upward as his prick slipped further inside her.  Yemi rocked her hips to take in more of his shaft.  She tightened her grip on his shoulders and was whimpering harder as she rode his shaft.

“How about we take things on elsewhere?” Jonesy suggested.

Tibbs almost didn’t hear his buddy amidst his f*****g.  His legs were starting to shake when he decided to lower Yemi to her feet.  Yemi squirted on the floor, then when she felt better about herself, grabbed both their c***s and marched them up the stairs.

They went past the bedroom to the attic; it would be improper entertaining them in the same room she shared with her husband.  Olu Shango knew of the men’s visit to deliver a batch of bottled water to the house for Yemi to share amongst the neighbors that she considered meaningful friends.  Shango knew Yemi would catch herself some fun before letting the men take their leave. 

They entered the attic, and Tibbs swept Yemi off her feet once again and carted her toward the bed set up in the room.  He set her down, and Yemi came to her knees and gestured at both men to draw closer, which they did, stroking their hard-on like they were sharpening swords.  Yemi grabbed each c**k and went back and forth, sucking each one.   Jonesy and Tibbs took turns caressing her hair and squeezing her t**s while she relentlessly smacked her tongue against their member.  

 Both men got on the bed and Tibbs laid Yemi on her side while positioning himself behind her.  He lifted her leg, and she reached down between her thigh and let his d**k into her warmth.   Jonesy stuck his c**k at her face; Yemi allowed him to f**k her mouth.  Tibbs worked his hips and pelvis against her butt and thighs as he rammed her p***y with ease; he loved the feel of her cunt creaming over his shaft.  Yemi groaned amid struggling with a mouthful of c**k jammed down her throat.  She multitasked herself by grinding and shoving her pelvis backward to take in more of what Tibbs offered.

Tibbs grabbed her arm and pulled her along before deciding to roll over onto his back.  Yemi straddled him and spread her legs while reclining backward with her hands on either side of his face.  She jerked her pelvis outward, grunting and exhaling frantically while she did.  Tibbs balanced her butt with both hands while simultaneously pumping his thighs as he attempted to keep in sync with her movement.  Yemi shook her head as she began gasping harder while her t**s jumped up and down her chest.  Jonesy stood over her, stroking his c**k inches from her face.  She turned toward him; her eyes glimmered with lust.  

“Bring that f*****g d**k of yours to my f*****g face,” she snapped.

“Oh yeah,” Jonesy smiled,  “that’s my kind of girl.”

He held her head in his hand and aimed his prick into her gaping mouth.  

“Go on, suck that f*****g d**k, b***h,” said Jonesy.

Between riding Tibbs while choking on Jonesy’s c**k, Yemi was capable of handling herself.  She was a s*x-hungry vixen, always have been.  Nobody knew this more than Shango himself.  He knew that regardless of the number of horny wives in his harem, Yemi was one of a few whose s****l appetite matched his.  

Everything regarding how they had met when young and then fell in love, which they had narrated to their South Pointe neighbors, was nothing but crafted fiction.  The reality was far different from that.  Olu first became acquainted with Yemi back when she worked as a staff secretary for a British multinational company with their main office branch in Abuja.  That was back when Olu worked with Nigerian Immigration.  Their relationship clicked instantaneously.  Olu would often utilize her guile and smartness toward pinpointing and ensnaring suitable expatriates who seemed desirable to be dominated under his seductive power.  They made a formidable team, but that ended when Yemi quit her job to relocate to the USA with an American Joe whom Shango had made a submissive wimp, but whom Yemi had incomprehensively attached herself to.  The Joe was of mature age and had fallen for Yemi’s charms so easy and genuine.  Olu retained the man’s wife, who later obtained a divorce settlement from her husband.  In exchange, the man took Yemi with him.  Olu stuck with the man’s ex-wife for a whole year before deciding he’d had enough of being locked in a one-man-one-woman type of relationship and resumed his domineering lifestyle.

Six years went by, until by some strange coincidence, he hooked up with Yemi at a friend’s bachelor party.  They had fun reliving old times, and after a second meeting, got to talking about their current predicament.  Yemi informed him that her marriage had ended by the third year of her marriage.  It had been a good run, she explained, but in the end, she realized it was way too good to last.  She despised the role of being a dutiful housewife, feeling encumbered like she was nothing but a trophy wife.  She began bossing her husband who still retained his submissive tendencies, and from there started seeking out worthy studs to take to bed.  Her Joe did his best catering to her wants.  He accompanied her to nighttime bars and adult stores under disguise to seek suitable men to f**k her brains out.  The right kind of s*x she often enjoyed when with Shango.  It took her a while before Yemi settled on a number of men to rotate, though she never stopped changing her rooster.  Her craving for terrific s*x took an expectant toll on her marriage.  She neglected her Joe to the point that he became a distant light in her life.  Hoping to spare him further pain, Yemi reached the decision that they end their marriage.  The split was amicable.  They still keep in touch, should she ever be wanting anything, all she had to do was give him a call.

Her coincidental meeting with Olu Shango was a year ago.  It was as if fate had destined them to reconnect with each other again.  She was Olu’s Ying as likewise, he was her Yang.  It wasn’t long before Shango included her into his latest Black-Ownership dominance scheme that’s led to where they are now.

 Yemi stopped grinding her hips for a moment and lifted herself off Tibbs’s c**k.  She gripped his p***s and carefully inserted him into her tight anal hole.  It took a couple of tries, and some friction before Tibbs gained solid access.  Tibbs wedged her butt with both hands like before, then gently began pumping his.   Jonesy came and knelt in front of Yemi; her pink, inviting p***y seemed to wink at him.  He rubbed spit over the tip of his prick, then drew closer and introducing it into her.  The ride was a rough-and-tumble affair at first, and it took some strained effort for both men to achieve a steady rhythm.  Their thighs and pelvis created fervent friction, while their grunts and pants melded a clashing discord that meshed with the grinding limbs.  Yemi felt drowned in a delirium of lust.  She rode her wave of orgasm like only a champion surfer would, until the moment came when she felt her men ready to explode. 

Jonesy pulled out of her first, tensed with the shakes as he hurriedly spurted semen on her crotch.  Tibbs went on f*****g her asshole until he could hold the tide no longer.  Yemi alighted from his c**k and knelt before him, then jammed her head down on his manhood.  Jonesy’s prick had gone halfway flaccid, but he mustered enough strength to slip back into her from behind, f*****g her as hard as he could muster.  Her buttock bounced back at him with each pounding while she made gurgling noise from consuming Tibbs’ ejaculate.  Jonesy felt himself releasing small spurts of c*m inside her as his p***s grew weak, up until when it slipped out of her.

Yemi rubbed the splatters of c*m stains on her crotch and into her mouth it went.  She left the bed and went downstairs, returning later with spare towels that she gave to Tibbs and Jonesy to wipe themselves off.  They trooped downstairs and got into their coveralls.

“When you see Olu,” Yemi said as they were about walking out the front door, “remind him to give me a call.”

“Sure thing, sweetness,” Tibbs blew her a kiss before shutting the door.