Breaking NEWS! Was Maura Cuckolded or Cursed?
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Easy leaned on his elbow cradling his head in his hand. The thin sheet covering him outlined his leg and ass. The television held his attention and he didn’t see Maura standing in the doorway. His favorite cartoon characters Tom and Jerry played 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.
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 his crime? Didn’t she always suspect Sidney was gay? And hadn’t she filed those thoughts away like some ancient numbers in a dusty ledger? Maura sighed and walked to the foot of the bed. She watched Easy like a cat scoping out prey. He followed her every move. Someone had taken down his braids and his hair touched 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 been aroused the night they met in the kitchen. He didn’t bother covering himself, the night the bugs invaded the house. Maura remembered the eyewink—that sly way of saying he knew her secret, that he had invaded her thoughts and knew her heart. Without a word, she 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 tightened around his body leaving him helpless. Maura covered Easy’s face with kisses as he struggled to free himself. She caught scent of Sidney’s cologne on Easy’s lips, but that didn’t stop her kisses. She knew his 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,” he whispered. But Maura 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 his arm and grab Maura by the hair. They peered into each other’s eyes.
“What is it, baby,” she whispered.
He kissed her and let go her hair. Their tongues probed and teased. Her hand grasped his manhood and squeezed until it felt like a rolling pin. Bursting with renewed energy, 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 each nipple until it stood firm. She pulled his head close to her as he tugged and sucked. Easy stopped and stared into Maura’s eyes as if she was a puzzle to solve. But she grew afraid of the woman she saw in those eyes—afraid the woman would scold her and call her filthy. Maura pulled Easy to her bosom and held him as he tugged at the waistband of her warm-ups. She tried to push his hands away, but he pulled her pants halfway her thighs. She was about to surrender and kick her legs free when the neighbor’s baby started crying.
Maura had thought of babies when Sidney fucked her. She imagined them running between her and Sidney’s knees, their curls and skin in shades of tan. She looked at Easy’s dark chocolate shoulders looming above her.
“Where are the condoms?” Maura asked 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 to her knees and over her thigh. He inhaled her crotch, before traveling down the other thigh, kissing legs, ankles, and feet as he went. He journeyed back to her crotch and 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 in one of the Hustler photographs--eyes rolled back in her head as if hovering between ecstasy and death. They turned sideways on the bed and she glanced Easy's ass and balls in the mirror. She pulled his head closer to her as if to smother him and ran her fingers over his asshole—the thing she had been so afraid to look at the day she caught him and Sidney. When he could get loose of her clutches he came up for air panting like a lion before burying his head deeper as if his life depended on Maura’s pussy.
As ecstasy threatened to make her lose control, Maura suddenly pushed Easy from between her legs, and shoved him onto his back. She straddled his thighs and teased his cock throbbing against his belly. Maura kneeled as if she was a bout to pray, lifted, and parted his knees. Her only guide was fire-scarred photo and the bitter ash she had tasted years 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 moved her head up and down until Maura caught her own rhythm and worked unaided over his large dick. She took in his hairy turkey gizzard-sized balls and the nappy hair between his legs. She teased and squeezed his nuts, tongued his dick, and snatched a couple of strands of his tightly curled pubic hair. The rough play overwhelmed him. He grabbed Maura by her hair hair and sent her back to work on his cock. In a moment, she felt his 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 man dying. His hands gripped the back of her head. He turned into fisherman fighting to hang onto a prized catch. He felt he was falling into the sea and drowning. He called on Jesus like a sinner surrendering his sinful soul. In a moment, Maura’s mouth was filled with hot, bitter seed. She swallowed and like the ash from photo, the bitterness brought tears to her eyes.
They lay in bed listening to the pest control guy spray the yard next door. The motor driving his sprayer hummed, ebbed and rumbled as it killed the remains of Maura’s spell. Easy wanted to ask her where she had learned to suck dick. But he felt the sound of his voice would spoil the moment. Instead, he caressed her arm. In a moment, Maura rose up on her elbow and looked at him.
“I need a favor from you,” She said crisply.
“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,” Easy reminded her.
Maura touched him between his legs. “And I’m a grown woman.” Her hand traveled over his cock and 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 the bitter remains of his seed.
"I’ll see what I can do,” Easy whispered.
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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.