Easy leaned on his elbow cradling his head in his hand. The thin sheet covering him outlined the curves of his leg and ass. His head was turned towards the television and he didn’t see Maura standing in the doorway. He watched the cartoon characters Tom and Jerry play their games of cat and mouse. When Jerry bashed Tom upside the head with a mallet, Easy laughed at the egg-sized knot on Tom's forehead. Maura coughed and Easy turned and looked at her.
She searched for words but found nothing but numbers and accounting formulas. What could she say, she wondered watching Easy lying in front of her swaddled like a baby. She could have grabbed the African Fertility statue and clubbed him to death before he had time to react. After all, he had come between her and Sidney. But was that a crime? Didn’t she suspect Sidney was gay from his behavior the night of their honeymoon? Hadn’t she filed those thoughts away like some ancient figures in a dusty general ledger? Maura sighed and walked to the foot of the bed, watching Easy like a cat. His eyes followed her. Someone had taken down his cornrows. His hair hung loose almost touching his shoulders. Was he a black Christ or a black devil? Maura remembered the story of Samson and Delilah. If she took a butcher’s knife and cut his hair off, would that act take the curse away? Would she be set free? But Maura knew there was no magic in Easy’s hair, no magic in him at all. He was a man, a mechanical thing to be used and manipulated. She knew he had gotten aroused the night they met in the kitchen. She heard him breathing next to the wall of clothes that guarded the living room’s archway. She had caught him fucking Sidney, not Sidney fucking him. Without a word, Maura pulled off her top and flung herself across Easy.
He turned to grab Maura in his arms and as he twisted his body, the sheets wound around him tighter imprisoning him more so. She ravished Easy’s face with kisses as he struggled to free his arms. She caught scent of Sidney’s cologne on Easy’s lips, but that didn’t stop her kisses. She knew those lips had traveled over Sidney’s body in the wee hours of the morning while she slept fitfully, dreaming of the act she was now committing. Her thigh brushed his thick manhood. It was hard as a brick.
“Slow down, girl,” she heard him utter. But she did not slow down. She thrust her tongue between his lips and tasted his sharp morning breath. She could not slow down. She could not turn around.
Easy managed to free one arm and he held her tight against his chest. With one hand, he grabbed her hair, pulled her face from his, and looked into her bright eyes. When he let her hair go, their tongues probed and teased each other. Her hand grasped his manhood and squeezed until it felt like a rolling pin. Bursting with renewed energy and strength, Easy sprang up and pushed Maura off. He freed his other hand from the sheets, rolled on top of her, and pinned her arms. His lips traveled down her neck nibbling and probing the soft flesh. He kissed her collarbone before moving to her chest. His tongue circled around each nipple until it stood up firm. She pulled his head close to her as he tugged and sucked her nipples like a baby. He stopped and looked at her. But she couldn’t stand to see her reflection in his eyes and she pulled him back to her bosom. She held him there as he tugged at the waistband of her warm-ups. She tried to pull his hands away, but he pulled her pants halfway her thighs. She was about to give in and kick her legs free when she heard the neighbor’s baby crying.
Maura had thought of babies before. She imagined them running between her and Sidney’s knees, their curls and skin in blended shades of tan blessed by hers and Sidney’s genes. She looked at Easy’s dark chocolate shoulders looming over her. She hadn’t imagined a baby looking like—well Topsy was the ugly word her Grandmother used to describe black children with kinky hair.
“Where are the condoms?” Maura asked Easy between kisses. He leaned over and pulled out the top nightstand drawer. The box was as light as air in his hands. He looked inside and shook the carton as if a foil shield might be stubbornly clinging to the sides.
“Damn,” he cursed. Maura played with his lips, circling their thickness and inserting her fingers between them. “We don’t need no condoms,” he whispered. He planted himself between her legs, grabbed her panties and warm-ups, and pulled them off in one brisk motion. Easy grabbed her feet, and licked each of her toes. His mouth traveled over her heels, ankles, and down one long tan calf up to her knees and over her thigh. He took a moment to breathe in her crotch, before moving down the other thigh and back to legs and ankles and feet. When he journeyed back to her crotch, he lingered over her shaved pussy. Maura arched her back and pulled his head close as if she was going to pull him inside of her. She shut her eyes and imagined herself as the women from the Hustler photographs--eyes rolled back in her head as if hovering between ecstasy and death. They had turned sideways in the bed. She looked in the mirror and watched Easy's ass and his balls hanging between his legs. She pulled his head closer to her as if to smother him. When he could get loose of her clutches he panted like an animal and buried his head deeper as if his life depended on Maura’s pussy.
Suddenly she pushed Easy from between her legs, and shoved him onto his back. She straddled his legs and watched his cock throb against his belly. Maura slid down his body, lifted, and parted his knees. Her guide was fire-scarred photo and the bitter ash she had tasted days ago. She bent over Easy’s cock and opened her mouth wide. His dick was rigid and ringed with veins. She wasn’t sure what to do. Her mouth cradled it until Easy grabbed a handful of her hair and gently eased her head up and down until Maura caught her own rhythm and worked unaided over his large dick. Her eyes took in his hairy balls that looked like turkey gizzards and the nappy hair between his legs. She teased him, squeezed his balls, tongued his dick, and snatched a couple of strands of his tightly curled pubic hair, until he grabbed her hair and sent her back to work. In a moment, Maura felt Easy’s body tighten and the veins in his cock grow rigid. He began to groan. He tried to push her away, but Maura would not turn away. She was stubborn and singled-minded like a fish after bait. Her pace quickened. Her throat ached. She watched Easy. His eyes were closed and he breathed rapidly like a dying man. His hands gripped the back of her head. He was the fisherman who would not let go of the prize catch, even if it meant falling into the sea and drowning. He called Jesus’ name like a sinner releasing his sinful soul upon the altar. In a moment, Maura’s mouth was filled with hot, bitter seed. She swallowed and like the ash, the bitterness brought tears to her eyes.
He wanted to ask her where she had learned to suck dick. But he felt the sound of his voice would ruin the moment. They lay there listening to the pest control guy spray the yard next door. The motor driving his spray gun hummed, ebbed and rumbled as it killed the remains of Maura’s spell. She raised up on her elbow and looked at Easy.
“I need a favor from you.”
“What, little lady?” He kept his eyes closed.
The little lady sounded strange to Maura’s ears. She had always been called Maura. She had never had a nickname except for the names Myesha had called her when they were growing up. “I need you to talk to Sidney about the divorce, get him to change his mind.”
“Sidney is a grown man.”
Maura touched Easy between his legs. “And I’m a grown woman.” Her hand traveled over his cock, over his belly, and caressed his nipples. She brushed his lips with her fingertips. When he parted his mouth, her thumb slipped in and he sucked it. Maura’s cell phone chimed feverishly downstairs. Work was calling. She let it ring while Easy sucked her thumb. He kissed her and tasted his seed in her mouth.
"I’ll see what I can do,” Easy whispered.
Bringing Sizzle to Your Summer Reading -- Coming
September 19, 2017
Papers and Spells
“Here’s what you do, Maura. Take this marigold and keep it in a cool dry place for thirteen days. Five days before the thirteenth day, shave yourself down there,” Aunt Trulla pointed at Maura’s crotch. “Scorch your hair in the oven, then mix it with the Marigold. A day later, get Sidney’s pubic hair, as much as you can--scorch it in the oven, and mix it with your hair and the marigold. Keep all of it in a cool place for the four days leading up to that thirteenth day. On the thirteenth day, mix the hair and marigold with a half cup of pure maple syrup—pure not that store bought stuff.” Aunt Trulla peered into her pantry. “I had some around here, but I think I used it up on that love scorned woman. Spread it under the mattress. It’s a whole lot better than that Follow Me Boy oil. No telling what’s in half that stuff. Home remedy is the best, yes, sir!”
“Won’t Sidney smell the maple? What if he finds it under the mattress?”
“Put some fresh cut flowers in the room or nearby. That will throw his nose off. The woman at Grime’s Undertaker around the corner sells them cheap on Mondays. Sidney will look at you with different eyes before the end of that thirteenth day.
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