Chapter 25

“Hiram.”

At Cindy’s soft voice breaking the silence, I glanced over at her. Although she’d dropped the dress over her chest, her pelvis remained bare. As she rolled her head to glance at me, Cindy’s slender fingers drifted through the glittering fine hairs of her blonde tuft. The slow movement between her smooth legs had my lips going dry.

“I just wanted...” As those glimmering emerald pools glossed, she glided her other hand along my forearm. “Well, I, um, want to say I’m sorry.”

“You already did.”

“No, not for that for...” As she spoke, Cindy’s fingers pushed through the short fur. “When we first met. In the woods. For, um, calling you, uh, ‘nigger.’”

“Oh.”

As much as I’d wanted to say more, my brain was split between watching the traffic and her curling digits descending further. When she swallowed and shifted to widen her legs, my pulse thumped.

“It’s just that ... Well, the man we were supposed to meet that night. He wasn’t ... He, um, wasn’t a black man.” As she spoke, one nail drifted along Cindy’s glittering seam. At my glance, she bit into the corner of her lower lip. “And, well, I, um, was pretty shocked that Denny suggested you, Hiram. But when you climbed into the car, every nerve in my body—jangled. It’s...” She gulped. “I was born and raised in Georgia. Whether or not they admit it, every Southern white girl has the same fantasy, Hiram.”

“Getting raped by a black man?” I said in a low voice before sighing. Yeah, I’d heard that, mainly in the locker room, but it was still—racist.

“Um-hmm. Oh, I know how it sounds, Hiram. But once you ... Once you were with me, that fantasy returned. And I ... Fuck it, Hiram. I loved it. I loved every part. And you. And then afterwards. At the car. That wasn’t me with a black man. That was me with you. A kind person who gave an older woman her dream. But—”

“You love me, but still crave”—I let a smile slide onto my face when I caught the glint of her eyes and the twitch of the finger over her slit—”my enormous nigger cock?”

“Yes,” flew from her lips as her finger hooked to plunge out of sight between her thrusting petals. “Mmm, yes. Oh, God forgive me. I love how you rape me, baby. Mmm. Oh.” While shoving and pulling, her glistening finger sped. As the smeared tacky lipstick on Cindy’s trembling lips parted, her emerald pools blazed. “And, oh, keep on raping me, Hiram. Just you. Umm, hmm. No other man. Black, white, or green, for fuck’s sake. Oh. Oh, God, I crave you. All of you.”

With a yelp, Cindy jerked when I tore from her grip on my arm to yank her hooked digit free. In a glistening fan, droplets of her sweet-smelling juice flew upwards. As she twisted, squeezing her legs together, a whimper escaped her shaking lips.

“Apology accepted—white whore.” At her snort, I chuckled and soon the car echoed with our laughter. “For the record, that’s never been one of my fantasies. I—”

“You just love me playing with you, or for you, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” I replied before bringing her dripping finger to my mouth.

When I slid it between my lips, her eyes—melted. As I sucked, sweeping my tongue around every shaky joint, Cindy’s frame contorted. The expression on her wide-eyed face? Her soul had also melted.

With her legs still trembling, Cindy made no effort to cover herself even as she guided me off the ramp. Instead, while we drove past rows of small shops and strip malls in the Atlanta suburbs, she let her legs fall wide. With her shiny emerald eyes on me, she skimmed her shaky fingers through her shiny, thin pubic hairs.

“Good,” she said in a low voice.

“What’s good?”

“I enjoy showing off for you. Playing with myself. And love when you play with me, baby.” In mid-giggle, her breathing hitched as an aftershock rumbled through her tiny frame. “I’m such a nasty little slut, aren’t I, Hiram?”

“Yes.”

As soon as I replied, she laughed aloud. It was a wondrous laugh. Pure happiness. My soul lightened. Weird, huh?

At last, she had me turn onto a side road. Just off the main street, tucked behind a run-down white stucco thrift store, sat a small purple cinder-block building. Set back from the road and shaded beneath an ancient spreading oak, it was hidden. You’d have to know where it was to have any hope of finding it.

To one side of a single, fuchsia-colored front door was a plate-glass window full of mannequins. While some wore brilliant pink, red, or white negligees, others were wrapped in leather skirts, tops, masks or simply metal-studded straps. Above the glass was a hand painted sign lit with multi-colored bulbs. “Paradise Intimates”

When we pulled to a halt in one of four spots on the crushed gravel lot, I looked at Cindy. How’d she known about this place? At my puzzled expression, her eyes twinkled.

“I’ve, uh, shopped here before. A, uh, man Denny, um, found for me. Um, he enjoyed me dressing up for him.” While a nervous laugh escaped her, Cindy pushed the sundress down to cover her thighs. “A lot of the other guys didn’t mind either.”

Before I could get my brain to stop imagining her with other men wearing the stuff in the windows and form a response, she’d pushed open the door. Once outside on the gravel, she thrust her arms skyward and stretched. Already frazzled, my mind seized when a sultry gust caught the dress, plastering it against her lengthened curves.

“Check-in’s at three. We’ve got plenty of time,” she murmured while twisting her outstretched hands towards the sun.

Besides the obvious swelling in my slacks, my entire body burned for her.

When she spotted my stare, red flared up her cheeks. Yeah, we’d ... That’d been an interesting drive. After I squeezed from the Mustang, its suspension lifted with a creak. As I again scanned the shop front, heat engulfed my face. Images of Cindy, and Chanelle, in any of those outfits, had my—everything—throbbing. With her full lips glistening, Cindy waited for me to step beside her before shoving under my arm and chuckling.

“What?” I said, before swallowing when her warm compact frame snuggled tighter.

“Your face, Hiram! God, you’re so damned cute.” As she swayed into me, she surged onto her toes to press her lips into mine. Although I tried to hold her to me, she slipped down to smile while running her little pink tongue around her mouth. “I’m gonna keep you. You know that, don’t you, baby?”

With a giggle, she turned from me to pull us towards the door, missing the chill slice through me as my heart spiraled into my stomach. After our car confessions, telling Cindy about Las Vegas was going to—suck. Then again, should I even leave? At bells jingling when we stepped into the shop’s cool air conditioning, I shook my head. Perhaps not. Somehow, I could convince Chanelle to stay.

“Hello,” a voice called from beyond a series of tall, white metal shelves holding mounds of lace. All colors. All styles. In every size.

“Hi there,” Cindy replied, waving one hand over her head while slipping from my arm.

At the angelic visage that appeared around the racks, my chest seized. Framed by black tresses, her face sporting a grin, a young woman appeared. She had glimmering dark eyes, elegant high cheekbones, small purple lips, and a perfect, pointed chin. Her skin was the color of—my mother. A warm shade of deep tan that gleamed beneath the row of humming fluorescent lights along the ceiling. To work in a place like this, she had to be an adult. So, at least my age, but she appeared not much older. When she caught my roaming gaze, her soul-devouring mahogany pools widened, and lips pulled apart.

“Oh, uh, hello,” Cindy said beneath an arching eyebrow. “You’re not Miss Lucretia.”

An awkward silence stretched until the clerk tore her gaze from me to look at Cindy. Even then, she stood silent but for the soft swish as the tip of her tongue flicked over her lips. At last, she jolted with a gulp.

“Uh, nuh-uh. I’m, um...” The woman’s eyes again drifted to mine as she stepped into view. A slight vibration rippled through her when I peeked at her petite, slender frame wrapped in a rich brown shoulderless leather minidress. “Her daughter, Yeshia.”

While another lengthy quiet engulfed us, Cindy glanced from Yeshia to me, then back to her. Time did that weird slowing thing again as nothing except the thumping of my heart and the rushing of blood filled my ears. After another scan of Yeshia, when Cindy again returned to me, she wore a devilish grin.

“Well, I’m Cindy. But you, aren’t you a delight?” she said while sashaying towards Yeshia. “A rare beauty like your mother.” When Cindy drew her nails across Yeshia’s leather-clad midriff, the girl’s widening black eyes glimmered. “Hmm, so trim. What do you think, Hiram? Isn’t Yeshia exquisite?”

Although alarm bells clanged, I cocked my head at the melodious, playful lilt in Cindy’s voice. Mischievous emerald flames danced in her eyes. What game was she playing? Oh, and here’s another thing. After returning to Yeshia, I gulped. Even as Cindy’s nails made slow circles over her leather-clad, flat abdomen, despite quivering, she remained silent. And staring at me, awaiting my answer.

“Uh...” Good start, idiot. After clearing my throat, I scanned both before nodding. “Yes, she’s, uh, absolutely stunning.”

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