Couples of South Pointe Lake

16. Drink the Water

Charles DeGreese carried on with his janitorial day job with a listless but debilitative manner that he was unaware of, except for the few people working with him who took note of his demeanor.  Not that anybody complained.  As long as his attitude didn’t affect the others’ output, what was there to grip about?  He performed his task with a calm detachment as his thoughts stayed preoccupied with unraveling answers as to whatever reasons compelled JoBeth’s attraction toward the Cumberland cop.  Charles was clueless to presume that any of it had to do with the water they were consuming.  

Charles (including JoBeth) didn’t know that a growing number of Cumberland residents were starting to consume this new bottled water.  Packaged bags of Crystal Clear bottles were being sold in every retail shop and restaurant and 7-Eleven spots around.  In particular, one couple was among the first to get enticed by the water’s addictive output weeks before others in Cumberland did.

The couple’s names were Carl and Eve Mortimer.  Carl was sixty-five years old, a retired Navy officer, who now ran a livestock feed store.  His wife, Eve, was sixty-two, a retired nurse working in an animal shelter establishment.  They lived in Jacksonville Avenue, located in the north-west district, seven miles from JoBeth’s apartment building.  Nothing could have possibly linked them to JoBeth or Charles DeGreese regarding their livelihood or acquaintances, nothing besides the water they consumed.  The Mortimer’s story does, however, differ from what Charles assumed JoBeth was experiencing being committed to her latest lover.  

 Carl and Mortimer were high-school sweethearts who got married thirty-nine years ago.  They had spawned children who have moved on with their lives, leaving them alone and happy with each other, taking everything else in stride.  At least that was how Eve saw it; for years, Carl had assumed the opposite.  It wasn’t enough for them to still be love, the fact that they were now two geriatric lovebirds still residing in a home they had occupied since the start of their marriage.  In Carl’s persisting imagination, there existed a lot more he could do to liven Eve out of the clutches of their weary existence.  

Years went by before Carl concluded that he had found what he sought.  What better place to find it than on the internet.

Carl experienced a eureka moment when he gradually became astute with the intricacies of online social media.  Never an internet savvy fellow, his heart swelled with pride as he began appreciating the stance of having his desires known and heard on Twitter and other like-minded places, keeping Eve in the dark regarding his intentions.  Carl encountered many disenfranchised husbands, who, like himself, saw themselves as trapped in the doldrum of their existence, seeking outlandish means of empowering their existence.  It was with a sad note that he realized how late in the game he was, as many of these men were ahead on the curb, having embraced their erotic kinkiness long ago.  They often referred to themselves as cuckolds and their wives as Mistresses.  Their common goal involved seeking worthy men/bulls with whom to share their wives in bed.  From the horde of tantalizing erotic photos and videos he consumed online, Carl regarded them content in their activity—basking in the delight of their wives getting screwed by multitudes of men, whether indoors or elsewhere.  

The majority of the worthy men were black; few of the husbands that Carl corresponded with ever entertained the notion of allowing fellow Caucasian men to approach their wives. 

What was the big deal about this craving toward black men?  

Carl inquired about this from multiple husbands that bothered clueing him in.  They varied in age and marital status, from newlyweds to mature couples, to singles.  They gave him the same basic answer—black men had bigger c***s, and they were far better lovers.  Carl couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing Eve succumbing like the many wives whose explicit videos he enjoyed watching.  He discovered that for many of the husbands, the journey hadn’t been comfortable.  They almost all suffered through setbacks when attempting to introduce this lifestyle to their wives, who declined the opportunity initially, but with time began to fall prey to their husbands’ suggestions.  As it turns out, the wives can no longer separate themselves wanting their black lovers.

Carl took some time to consider his options regarding his biggest hurdle—how to convince Eve about this?  Do I break it to her directly, or choose a subtle means to go about it?

He began populating his social media accounts with arousing photos of Eve, selecting ones that portrayed her in relaxing, seductive poses.  They had spent her last birthday on a two-week holiday trip to the Cayman Islands, courtesy of a gift from their eldest son.  At the Caymans, Carl had taken as many photos of Eve lounging on the beach in her swimsuit, though it never occurred to him then that his actions would lead to this current adventure.  Once during their stay, they went out for a boat ride across the bay area, and afterward, he had taken snapshots of Eve posed beside their black boat-riding instructor.  These snapshots received quick responses when he uploaded them on his Twitter page.  Several people did write to him, asking about Eve.  Unfortunately, he deleted the messages, too embarrassed to respond, only to regret his action days later.

These responses did the job of spurring Carl to register himself in various cuckold forums.  As he did on Twitter, he corresponded with various individuals there, always mindful not to give away his identity.  Eve was piqued at first, but later amused when he suggested taking photos of her in various dresses, the whole time making as though there was nothing behind it.  Some of these photos did end up online, and like that, months passed as he continued harnessing responses from secret admirers.

The façade ended one Tuesday evening when he returned home and found Eve behind the computer with a shocked look in her eyes.  She had discovered his erotic folders containing nude photos of dozens of women, all of which he had painstakingly downloaded weeks before; she as well found where he had kept the ones of hers.  Her response was beyond anger as she demanded an explanation.  Carl used the opportunity to admit everything he had kept hidden from her since.  Eve listened in stunned silence as he narrated and explained the clandestine journey of his online alter-ego personality.  That night had been a long one.  Eve went upstairs to their bedroom without a word and returned minutes later with a pillow and a blanket that she dumped on the sofa.  She said goodnight to him before returning upstairs and shut the door.  That had been Carl’s fate for a week: he would return from work and assume his place on the sofa while Eve ignored him.  He swallowed his pride and didn’t complain—nothing would have resolved for the best if he did.

Three weeks went by before Carl achieved a breakthrough when he began corresponding with a famous bull who mentioned that he allegedly had the answer to Carl’s problem.

 Carl found the man (or rather, it was the man who found him) in one of the online forums he frequented.  The man’s pedigree appeared solid.  Carl had encountered several of the man’s posts and couldn’t help admiring the bull’s persuasive insight regarding the lifestyle, and was twice astonished to receive a message from him.  Their correspondence led them to venture beyond the forum into a one-on-one chatroom board.

“Still having trouble with the wife,” the black bull asked.

“Sort of.  She recently found me out.”

“Found you out how?”

“She went looking in the computer and found my stash of photos.  I then told her everything.”

“When was this?”

“Three weeks plus.”

“And how has it gone since?”

“Not good,” Carl typed.  “We haven’t talked since she locked me out of the bedroom.”

“She huffing mad?”

“I wish.  She’s been quiet, and I haven’t brought it up since.”

“That’s a bummer.  Maybe I can help.”

“I doubt you can.  You don’t know my Eve.”

“True.  But I do know women and how to unwind them.”

“You unwound plenty?”

“Plenty, plenty, cuck.  I quit counting long ago.”

Carl stopped for a moment to think.  I liked that the man referred to him as a cuck, even though he wasn’t yet one—more of a wannabe than a full-fledged cuck.  But that was what he was aiming for, and the only way was by getting Eve hooked.  Either that or continue surfing the internet in misery, staring at nude photos of other men’s wives and peruse countless videos of women getting f****d by black studs.  He desired so much to cross the threshold.  If this bull could make that happen . . .

“How would you do it?” he asked.

“How isn’t the problem,” the man responded a minute later.  “What concerns you is whether you want my help or not?  I need to know.”

“Yes, I want your help.  Whatever help you can give.”

“Good.  I’m going to demand a solemn promise from you.  If what I do works out, I want to be the one who gets to f**k your Eve.”

“You want to be her bull?”

“Yes.  I’ll want her to be a part of my harem of wives.  I’ll want to become her one and only Black Master as she will be my whore.”

Carl couldn’t believe what the man was saying to him.  To say that he was stunned beyond words was putting it mildly.  He even perceived a distinct twitch in his groin region that aroused him the more he reread the bull’s words.  To think that all this while he felt the light dimming of ever accomplishing his dream, it felt good to have a speck of hope, regardless of how tiny it was.

“I would love that,” Carl replied.  “I would love that a lot.”

“Great.  Now, there’s something I need you to do . . .”

Carl frowned as he absorbed what the bull requested and was at first worried about what to make of it.  Was he seeking to help him, or attempting to fleece money off him?

“Are you serious?” he wrote back.

“Yes, I am serious.  This is something you’ll have to trust me about.”

“I do trust you.  But I thought you were going to see about talking to her first.  Maybe convince her to change.”

“You’ve done all the talking that needs to be done, cuck.  Nothing matters except what I’m telling you to do.”

“Yeah, but you sure this gonna work?”

“I’m not sure that it will work,” the bull replied, then in all-cap letters added: “IT WILL WORK.  YOU JUST HAVE TO TRUST MY ADVICE.”

“Okay,  I do trust you.  Where do I go?”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.  Send me your address as I requested, and then I’ll do the rest.”

Carl threw caution to the wind and gave it to him.  The bull mentioned that he would be in touch and then signed off.  Carl realized the next day while noting down receipts of his latest livestock samples’ arrival of that he had neglected to ask the bull how soon he would get in touch.  Whatever the bull intended sending to him, would he hand-deliver it himself, or send it via post?  Was it something illegal?  Carl remained fretful the more he speculations roamed free, knowing that was quite a gamble he was taking.  Eve resumed talking to him again, even though she remained upset about what he had done.  She viewed him with a wary caginess as if expecting him to unleash some unseen harm upon her.  For his part, Carl kept mum and did what he could to maintain peace.  He deleted the photos from the computer, including hers, as per her request.  But not before stopping at a Target shop to purchase a thumb-drive, which now contained everything he downloaded.  The thumb-drive went with him always, never leaving his sight even when in the bathroom, fearing that Eve might grow curious to want to see what it contained.  He knew already she had combed through the computer, hence why she was less cold to him.

Carl awoke one Saturday morning with the arduous task of leveling the swath of grass that covered his lawn.  He stepped out of his back door, wanting to get to his tools shed, but stopped when he found a brown carton box standing on his back porch.  A bottle of water stood on top of the box with a note taped to it.  

GET HER TO DRINK THE WATER – MASTER SHANGO

Master Shango.

He recognized the name immediately; it belonged to the bull whom he had been corresponding with.  Carl read the name on the bottled water.  Crystal Clear was what it said.  He turned his attention to the carton box, and his hands were shaking as he opened the lid, but stopped and he counted the bottles of water inside.  There were twelve in number.

Carl closed back the lid and carted the carton to the tool shed, where he had the comfort of appraising the bottles of water better.  No way he could ascertain if they contained anything besides water.  The words on the note were candid and straightforward, but what if there was more to it than that? 

“There’s no poison in the water,” Shango wrote to him hours later via his computer.

“You’re sure about that?”  Carl asked.

“Trust me.  I wouldn’t dare give you something dangerous if I didn’t know what it was.  I’m not ever diabolical.”

“Yeah, well.  I figured it’d be something.  I dunno.”

“You want my help, don’t you?”

“Yes.  I still do.”

“Then you need to trust me on this.  Give the water to Eve, and make sure she drinks it.”

“That’s it?  I don’t have to do anything else?”

“Nothing.  Just get Eve to drink the water.  Everything will work out fine after.”

Carl harbored some misgivings.  “What’s going to happen if I drink the water?  Will  anything go wrong?”

“Nope.  It’s just water, cuck.  Give it a try and you’ll see.”

Carl picked up one of the water bottles he had taken out of the carton and took a sip of the water.  He swirled the water in his mouth for a moment, let his tongue swim in it before taking a quick gulp.  He stood still and waited, but nothing happened.  Carl went ahead and drained the entire bottle.  Nothing malignant occurred, not even hours later, if it was taking too long to go to work on him; it tasted like nothing except ordinary water.  Carl decided to wait it out for an entire day to see if anything would come about.  The next morning slipped into the afternoon, and then evening came about, and still, nothing terrible happened to himself.  He checked his temperature and blood pressure and found everything the way it was.  He stuck to regular tap water and didn’t touch the bottled one for three more days.  Come the fourth day, and he decided to drink a second bottle, and still nothing.

By the fifth day, Carl decided to include a few bottles in the fridge and gave one to Eve while they had breakfast.  Eve had begun relaxing her resolve against him.  He filled up her glass while listening to her narrate last night’s bingo game with her friends.  Carl returned to his chair and waited as she reached for her glass, then raised it to her lips.  He held his breath as he watched her drain her glass, then licked her lips and refilled her glass some more.  Eve did see the Crystal Clear bottles, but never once questioned him about them; Carl was glad she didn’t.  They finished breakfast and later kissed each other before leaving for their separate places of work.  Carl went about his work at the feed store with half a mind.  The other half stayed alert, expecting a call from her or a colleague declaring that Eve had suddenly fallen ill.  Nothing of such occurred.  He returned home and found her drinking more bottled water and making like everything was fine.  

Then one night, something strange happened.

He was deep in his sleep when the lights came on, and he felt a tug at his arm that brought him awake.  He turned to see Eve staring pensively at him.  

“Eve,” Carl became worried as he then sat up, fearing the worst was about to come through.”  “Honey, is anything wrong?” 

“We need to talk, Carl,” she said.

“Okay.  What about?”

She said nothing at first.  Her face grew long, and her lips made a down curve, turning the lower part of her face into something resembling a Greek tragedy mask.  Carl was ready to jump out of bed and get her to a nearby hospital if she mentioned that she was falling ill. 

“Come on, honey,” he prodded her impatiently.  “Tell me whatever it is, please.”

“I don’t know how to say this,” Eve said, “but I’m so sick and tired of us being an ordinary couple; I’m tired of being nothing but an ordinary wife.  Let’s face it, Carl, we aren’t getting any f*****g younger.  You’re not the man you once were in bed, which is no offense to you, but it’s time I asked for something better.”

Carl felt his heart lurch up to his throat.  For one thing, it was so rare to hear Eve let off a curse word.  Plenty of times, she had been the one to scold him if he dared utter a swear word in any of their conversations, something he always found as annoying.  It was in disbelief that he got to hear her like this; it was further proof that this wasn’t a dream.  Carl held Eve’s hand in his as he fought his best fight at calming himself from self-imploding from what he thought was coming.

“What do you want, Eve?  Whatever it is, I’d like to know.”  His voice sounded somewhat shaky, even for himself.

“It’s simple,” Eve didn’t mince words as she spoke.  “I want to have myself a male lover.  I would prefer it to be someone younger, stronger,” she stopped, then continued.  “I want someone who can make love to me like I were a twenty year old.”

That was what Carl had been looking forward to hearing her utter for years.  He felt his heart launch itself up his chest and then get stuck in his throat.  It took some effort for him to formulate words in his mouth, for which he was grateful that he held her hand in his, as that helped him gather his nerves.

“Is that really what you want, dear?”

“It is what I want,” she emphasized with a nod of her head.  “And it’s what you want, too.  All those dirty pictures and videos of yours, I got to watch some of them before I got you to delete them.  Later when you weren’t around, I searched through your browser history and dug some of them up.  I’m sorry I made you delete all those photos when you did.  I just didn’t know how to handle any of that.”

“It’s okay, honey.”

“I mean, I’ve never felt like anything like this ever before.  And now that I’m feeling it, I think I want it so bad.”

“You liked those s*x videos?” 

“Yeah, I liked all of it.  But I cannot do this alone and not without you.”

“Okay,” he spoke carefully, very mindful of the intensity of the moment.  At this point, he was walking on eggshells; one wrong word or misstep could ruin the mood.  “You’re serious about wanting me to find you a strong fellow for you to take to bed with you.”

Eve nodded her head.

“I think I can help with that.  But as long as I get to be around to see it go through,” he included.

“I never said you wouldn’t be,”  Eve said, then kissed him.  

She went and switched off the lights, then returned to bed with him.  Carl lay with his arm curled around her, rejoicing in his heart.  He imagined a flock of angels trumpeting triumphantly in his head.  His last thoughts before sleep carted him away was of Shango arriving at his home to come and lay claim to his prize.

Morning arrived, and Carl waited for Eve to leave the house before sending a mail to Shango.  His hands were shaking and his fingers kept typing up errors as he struggled with his excitement.  He clicked the SEND button when he finished, then shut down the computer and left for work.  He received a text message from Shango sometime before noon, having included his phone number in the mail he sent.  Carl called him and wasted no time sharing his delight when Shango answered. 

“It worked, sir.  It f*****g worked!”

“Of course it worked, cuck.  Wasn’t that what I told you?”

“Yes, yes, you did.  I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”  Carl realized he was talking too fast and slowed down to calm his nerves.  “She woke me up last night and said she wants me to find a man for her.  Those were her very words.”

“That’s good to hear.  Here’s what you’re gonna tell her . . .”

Later that evening, Carl and Eve sat watching a movie after dinner when he then explained his progress toward getting her what she desired.

“I’ve found us someone, darling,” he said.  “Someone I know will be good enough for you.”

Eve looked at him with full attention.  “That fast?  Is he young and strong?”

“He’s everything you can possibly want.”  He opened his phone and showed her a photo of her future lover.  Eve’s eyes expanded in amazement and she uttered a gasp when she saw Shango’s package.  “Oh my.”

“That’s what you’re gonna be getting soon,” Carl smiled with reassurance.  He had never been this happy before in years.

“Oh my God, darling, I can’t wait.  He’s not from around here?”

“No, which is a good thing, too.  He’s all fresh and coming for you.”

“I like that.  When did he say he’ll be here?”

Three days was what it took; three whole days.  The period of waiting, Eve fretted over getting herself a new hair-do, fixing her nails, and arguing with Carl about what clothes to wear when her date arrived.  How would she (including Carl) welcome him, and whatever type of meal should she cook?  Everything was in direct anticipation of the three-day wait that seemed to eat at her nerves.  Carl assumed his role in guiding her toward the intended goal.  He even went all out and purchased a pretty dress for her, something he hadn’t done in a long time.  

Shango made his arrival on a Saturday afternoon.  He informed Carl that he was catching an Uber from the airport; the drive was two hours from the city.  Carl propped himself out on the porch and waited.  There was a mild rain shower with sporadic thunder.  Carl assumed it was all to herald what the day intended to bring to him.  

A Buick drew to a stop in front of his driveway, and Carl left his porch as a tall black man with a shaved head, wearing a turtleneck sweater and jacket came out.  Carl waved at him, and Olu Shango waved back as he grabbed his luggage out of the backseat before letting the Buick drive off.  

“It’s great to meet you,” Carl came to his driveway and shook hands with his wife’s impending lover while staring at him in awe.  “I cannot find the words to thank you enough for this.”

“All in good time, cuck,” said Shango.  “Now, how about we get out of the rain and you lead me to my whore.”

Carl led the way into his home.  He was so nervous with excitement he could barely contain himself as he shut the door behind them.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said.  “I’ll go fetch my wife—your w***e, is what I meant to say.”

He clambered up the stairs to the bedroom, then returned with Eve in tow.  She wore a black sleeveless dress with high heels and thigh stockings; she had arranged her hair into a coiffure.  

Eve blushed as her husband escorted her like a bride to Shango who came to his feet.  Even when they shook hands and he formally introduced himself, she looked ashen like she might faint.  Eve felt drawn toward his raw energy.  He sounded so gentlemanly and seductive the way he appeared to court her as they sat down and started talking.  She felt a warm tingle emanating from inside her panties . . . or was it her womb?  

“I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you, Eve,” said Shango.  “Your husband and I have been corresponding for weeks now, and he’s told me a lot about you.”

“Carl has shown me plenty of your photos.  I couldn’t help getting drawn to your package,” she admitted before she could stop herself.  “I’m sorry, I can’t help being straight.”

“That’s terrific to hear,” Olu Shango went from caressing her arm to then placing his hand on her thigh.  “That’s how I love my whores to be.”  

“I’m so choked up with you here, I don’t . . . I can’t begin to make my thoughts into words.”

“What’s on your mind?  You can share it with me.”

“Well, I’d like to know, am I a w***e already?”

“That remains to be seen,” he said, “but the day’s still young.  Is that everything you have on your mind to tell me?   Better confess now that I’m here.”

“I’m horny right now,” Eve confessed.   “I’ve never been as horny for another man as I am right now.  Carl’s a wonderful husband, but I want someone more than capable in bed with me.”

“Carl told me that you said you want a younger fellow.  Is that correct?”

“Yes, very.”

“Good.  How about you stand up and lift your dress, let me be the judge who gets to see what you’ve got lurking underneath.” 

Eve rose to her feet and did as he wanted: she raised her dress up her thighs to give him an eyeful of her thigh stockings and panties.  Carl sat farther from them to watch his wife present herself to her lover.  It was overwhelming to think that his dream was becoming a reality.  

Olu drew Eve closer and kissed her abdomen.  His hands went to her panties and slid them down her waist to reveal the crop of bush that permeated her crotch.  Eve caressed his head and moaned as Olu felt his fingers upon her p***y, and inserted them into her velvet flesh.  Olu rummaged further into her crevice.  He kissed his way down her navel while still finger-f*****g her p***y.  Eve couldn’t hold back herself from becoming putty to his actions.

Shango pulled away from her and licked his lips while gesturing at her to turn around.

“I want to see that mound of ass you’ve got,” he said.  “And bend over that behind too.”

Eve looked toward Carl before climbing onto the sofa and aimed her butt toward her lover.  Shango lifted her dress over her back to expose her rump to his face.  He slid her panties to the side, and Eve screeched in surprise when she felt his tongue and lips press against her booty crack.  The tension melted off her and was replaced by a soothing as his tongue went on tasting her labia.  

“Don’t move a muscle,” Olu instructed before standing up to unzip his fly and whip out his hard-on.  He gripped her arm for her to keep still before inching the tip of his p***s against her vulva.  Eve was moaning before he had even entered her; she reached behind to spread her buttock for him.  Shango did as she wanted and got the response he craved when she let off a sharp cry.  He grabbed her other arm and allowed her a brief moment to get accustomed to his girth before thrusting further.  

“Aahhhh!  Aahhh!  Aaahh!”  

Eve shut her eyes from the pounding waves of exquisite lust and pleasure racking her body. Every part of her trembled from the onslaught.  Her cries climbed a higher octave as Shango thrust and pulled out of her.

Carl remained where he was seated but now had his hand grabbing his crotch, bearing his erection that wanted to burst out of his jeans.  His eyes stayed glued to the fun Eve was getting as Olu Shango tore into her.

Shango slowed his pace to a stop and then stepped away to assess what he had wrought upon the mature wife.   Eve was breathing harder while trying to catch her breath.  She turned around and fell to the sofa in a daze.  Carl came to her aid, but Eve shook her head and gestured at him not to bother; her face was flush red and sweaty.  She smiled at him to indicate that she was fine with herself.

“I’m okay, honey,” she murmured and gasped as she looked toward Shango.  “My God, I’ve never . . .  I’ve f*****g never had a c**k so big before.”

Olu Shango laughed while he went ahead with getting himself out of his clothes.  He threw his jacket on a couch, then went ahead with his sweater.  Carl came to help Eve get rid of her panties, seeing that she was still reeling from the brief f*****g she received.  Shango stopped him from wanting to help her out of her dress.

“I want to f**k her in that pretty dress of hers,” he said as he then took off his shoes.  He came and helped Eve to her feet.  “Take me to your bedroom,” he said, then turned to Carl and said: “Take care of my clothes, cuck.”

“Yes, sir,” Carl replied.

Eve said to Shango:  “Did you call him a cuck?”

“That’s what he is, and he knows it.  Don’t you, cuck boy?”

“I sure do, sir,” Carl answered.

“Cuck-boy,” Eve laughed.  “I like that.  Come with me, sir.”

She took Shango’s hand and led the way toward the stairs.  Carl arranged Shango’s clothes on the couch, then waited for some minutes before going after them.  

What he saw being done to Eve was a sight he would cherish for the remainder of his life.  

Eve knelt on the bed with her dress pushed further up her back while Shango went ahead with f*****g her doggy style.  She sucked in her breath before letting it off in an urgent whimper; her cries blended with the sound of Shango’s pelvis slamming against her butt was so enticing, Carl felt drawn to it immensely.  Eve groaned as her face pressed on the sheets while her body jerked back and forth, compelled by Olu Shango’s thrusts.  He barely broke a sweat as he continued dishing it to her.  Eve felt her knees give up as she then fell flat on her face and continued submitting to the orgasmic tremor welling inside her body.

Shango pulled out and jerked his c**k over her buttock, and splattered semen upon her flesh and her dress.  Carl had his mouth open the entire time he watched them.  He knew it then, as though he didn’t already, that his life with Eve had forever changed.