Sam withdrew his finger from her mouth. Ignoring her, he spoke to Robert, “Damn, Robert, she got soft puffy lips and a hot mouth. This gonna be a good fuckin night.”
“Shit, man,” Robert said, “you ain’t tellin me something I don’t know. My dick’s been in her mouth a couple times.” He turned slightly to look at them then concentrated on driving, “What I don’t understand is she’s supposed to do only the rich and powerful motherfuckin brothers. What she doin with a dumb ass low life like you?”
“You right, Robert,” Sam leaned back, his hand still on Maureen’s bare thigh, “Travis and the Captain say she to bring in fifteen hundred for a night’s work, hundred bucks an hour.”
“We all know you ain’t got that kind of money,” Robert said.
“Just keep this to yourself,” Sam leaned forward, “one of the Captain’s customers, a white guy, was behind on a big bill he owed. Dex started to lean on the motherfucker so the guy says he might talk to the Feds about Dex’s business.” Sam chuckled. “Well, that bastard ain’t talkin to nobody now unless it’s some fuckin fishes.”
Robert nodded, “So how much you get?”
“Two thousand. I take five hundred and ask Dex and Travis if I can have Mrs. O’Donnel for a night. Well, more than a night, fifteen hours to be exact.”
“And they say okay?”
“That’s right. They both say okay.”
“Fifteen hundred a lot of money, Sam. I hope she’s worth it.”
Sam leaned back and placed Maureen’s hand on his crotch, “She gonna be worth it, ain’t you Mrs. O’Donnel?”
Maureen couldn’t believe what she’d heard. The man beside her had murdered someone in order to have her for a night. She was responsible for someone’s death. And Sam was a cold-blooded killer. She’d brought him into her house, and would do so again. She’d introduced him to her husband. She would spend the night with him in her own house, in her own bed. Feelings of guilt and remorse consumed her and then fear. Her whole body shook.
Roughly, Sam took her arm and turned her to face him. “I asked you a fuckin question, bitch! You gonna be worth a hundred bucks an hour or ain’t you? You gonna do Sammy good, real good all night long and in the fuckin morning too?”
The thought occurred to her that he might kill her, that he was capable of killing her family. She called on reserves of strength she didn’t know she had. She reached her hand, still trembling, to touch his pockmarked face, “I’ll be worth it, Sam,” she said, her voice shaking, “I’ll be worth a hundred dollars an hour. I’ll be good to you, real good to you all night. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, like you said. I’ll look good for you and be naked. When you’re finished eating, I’ll get on my knees in the kitchen and suck you…suck your…your…cock for a long, long time.”
Sam spoke so Robert could hear, “Drink my cum? You drink my cum?”
She could feel through his trousers that his cock had begun to swell. Still looking up into his ugly face, she licked her lips, “Yes, honey, I’ll drink your cum. Your hot cum will be my breakfast.” The thought of taking him back into her home terrified her. She moved her hand over the bulge in his pants and tilted her head up toward him pleading with her eyes, “But, Sam honey, wouldn’t it be better if we went to a motel? We could be alone then. No one else around. I’d feel so much more relaxed. I’d do things to you, different things, make love to you that…..”
Quickly he grabbed her chin hard. His fingers pressed painfully into her cheeks. He brought his face close to hers so that when he spoke his spittle sprayed her face. “Listen to me bitch! We is goin back to your place. I want your husband to hear you moanin when I fuck you, hear you screamin when I make you cum. Don’t give me no more shit about motels!” He let her go and sat back.
Robert glanced at her over his shoulder. “I gotta say Mrs. O’Donnel is lookin good after what all she done last night. By rights, she ought to be damn tired.”
“Why that?” Sam asked. He stroked Maureen’s bare thigh occasionally trailing his fingers along her slit.
“Tell him,” Robert said. “Tell Sam what old Travis had you doin last night.”
Maureen was trying desperately to think of a way to keep Sam from coming home with her. She didn’t answer. Angrily, Robert repeated the question.
“I’m sorry, Robert,” she apologized. “Last night Travis…Travis took me to a hotel room. At first I was blindfolded. There were seven men.”
Sam turned toward her, “Black men, right?”
“Yes, they were all black men.” She paused, looking out of the window.
Sam squeezed her leg, “What you do for these seven black men?”
“Everything, everything they wanted.” She knew Sam was waiting for her to explain. “They had me dance for them. I took off my dress so that I was naked. They made me kneel in front of them and crawl to them. I kissed them, tongue kissed them.” Talking about the evening caused her breath to come faster. Sam felt her pussy moisten. He realized talking about it was making her hot. “Go on,” he said. “What else you do?”
“They made me suck them…suck their cocks.” She saw herself on her knees, naked, the men gathered in a semicircle around her, their stiff cocks glistening with her spittle. “They took me…I mean they fucked me.”
“Your ass, too? Did the brothers fuck you up the ass?”
“Yes. I think all of them did. All of them had me twice. I think two of them had me three times.”
Robert pulled the cab over and stopped in front of an upscale club called, “Dex.” He turned to face her, “You like it? You like what they done to you?”
She looked directly at him and spoke in a low even voice, “No, Robert. I felt dirty. I felt terribly ashamed, guilty, degraded.”
Robert nodded, “But that ain’t all you felt. Ain’t I right?’
She looked away, “You’re right Robert. It’s crazy but I also liked what they did, what they made me do. I felt this…this need to give myself to them. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be here.”
Robert grinned at her and winked at Sam, “Well, Mrs. O’Donnel, you got yourself one mean motherfucker of a date tonight. I expect he gonna fuck your mouth, your ass, and your pussy. Ain’t that right Sam?”
Sam reached across Maureen to open the door, “That’s right, Robert,” he said motioning for her to get out. “This white bitch gonna feel Sam’s prick in every damn one of her holes.” He climbed out of the cab but leaned back in and spoke loud enough for Maureen to hear. “And she gonna let her husband know how much she’s liken it.” Robert laughed and waved, then drove off.
At the entrance to the club, Sam stopped and faced Maureen, “Listen up, bitch. I bought you for the night. You fuckin belong to me. You show the brothers and sisters and white folks inside that you’re mine. Let them know you’re hot for me. Let them know you want fucked.”
He grabbed her arms roughly and stared at her. He was sweating. The evening had become hot and humid, but she felt a chill pass through her body. The thought that Sam had murdered someone terrified her. The realization that she would be made to take him back to her house frightened her even more. The children’s room was next to hers. Only a narrow hall separated the two bedrooms. Sam would be in her bed, probably drunk and loud. She would be with him, naked, trying to please him. She simply couldn’t take him home. Maybe she’d still be able to persuade him to take her to a motel instead. She had to feed his ego, had to make him start to like her, had to convince him she wanted him. To expose her children to this heartless murderer was unthinkable. She prayed that Brian would find somewhere to take the children for the night.
They were still standing at the entrance to the club. She looked up at him and stepped forward to press her body against his, “You excite me, Sam. Right from the first you did, but I was afraid.” She paused, then continued, “What you did in order to have me excites me.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed her crotch into his, “You make me hot, Sam. I want you to fuck me tonight. I want you to fuck me hard.”
Chapter Two
Sam stared down at her, “When we go inside you let all the folks, black and white, know you’re my woman. Let them see you got the hots for me.”
She nodded, “Yes, Sam, I will.”
“Shit! You still look like you wishin to be somewhere’s else. You got to look and act like you’re havin a good time.” Two young white men passed them and glared. She heard one of them say, “She’s gotta be a fuckin slut.” Sam ignored them. He put his hands on her ass, “You’re a party whore, a party whore for blacks.” He pulled her close, “Say it nice. Say what you is.”
She looked away, then clasped her hands behind his neck and ground her pelvis against him. She tilted her head up, “I’m a party whore, Sam, a party whore for blacks.”
“That’s right. That’s what you fuckin is, so act like it.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled open the door to the club.
It was dark, all black glass and chrome. Booths lined three of the walls. In the center was a polished dance floor. Along the length of the fourth wall was a long bar. Her heels clicked on the wood floor. Everyone in the place turned to look at them, the stunning young white woman with the meanest looking black man in town.
Sam led her to the bar. She sat on stool next to him. There were several young black men at the far end. Reflected in the mirror behind the bar were the booths. Since it was still early, most were empty. She counted three black couples and one white couple. She leaned forward to get a better view and gasped. The white couple were her neighbors. They lived on the next block. Mrs. Ramsey was president of the PTA. Her husband and Brian were in the same bowling league. It was obvious they’d recognized her. Quickly she half turned away from Sam.
“What you doin,” he growled.
She put her hand up to her face, “I’m sorry. There’s something in my eye,” she said.
“My fist be in your eye unless you fuckin warm up!”
Maureen hesitated, then placed her hand over his and tried to smile. In the mirror she saw that the Ramseys were making their way toward her. She felt her face grow hot as she turned toward them. Mrs. Ramsey forced a tight smile, “I thought it was you when you came in. I told George, ‘that can’t be Mrs. O’Donnel, can it?’” She glanced at Sam.
Maureen gestured toward Sam, “This…this is my friend, Sam.”
Sam glared at them and deliberately placed his arm around Maureen’s shoulder so that his hand rested on her breast. “What she say ain’t how it is. We more than fuckin friends.” His fingers squeezed her breast. “Tell them, baby. Tell these white folks,” he said
“He’s…he’s, ah, uh, we’re good friends, very good friends.”
“Lovers,” Sam said. He moved his hand to her bare thigh and stroked it as he stared at Mrs. Ramsey.
Maureen swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes lovers.” She looked toward the door. “Sam and me, we’re like he said…lovers,” she spoke just above a whisper.
George Ramsey frowned, “Where’s Brian?” he asked.
“At home,” Maureen said. “He’s at home with the children.”
“Yeah, and his wife’s here with me, and she’s hot ain’t you, babe?” His hand tightened on her leg.
Maureen nodded, “Yes, it’s like he said.”
Mrs. Ramsey stepped forward, her face just inches from Maureen’s, “You should be ashamed,” she hissed.
Sam pushed Maureen’s knees apart, spreading her legs so that the Ramseys could see she wasn’t wearing panties. Mr. Ramsey stared at her shaved crotch. Sam nodded at him, “You like that? You like lookin at my woman’s bald pussy?”
Mrs. Ramsey grabbed her husband’s arm and started toward the door. Sam called after them, “This here white pussy is only for the black man!” He poked Maureen, “Tell them,” he said. Before she could speak, they were out the door.
One of the black men down the bar yelled, “That right? This fine lookin white piece only for the brothers?”
Sam turned Maureen to face them. He lifted the letters on her necklace. The three men got off their stools and moved up to stand in front of Maureen. The couples in the booths stopped talking and looked toward the bar. The first of the young men introduced himself and his two friends, “This here’s Mufta, and that’s Rashid, and I’m Louis.”
Sam squeezed Maureen’s thigh, “These boys wants to know the meanin of your necklace.”
Maureen bowed her head, “The letters mean ‘White Woman For Blacks,’” she said softly.
Louis, the tallest of the men, looked at Sam’s hand on her bare thigh, then at the ankle bracelet. He squatted down and traced the letters, his fingers lightly trailing across her ankle. Looking up at her, he said, “You sure anxious for us to get the message, ain’t you?” He started to move his hand along the back of her calf.
Sam wagged a finger at him. “You can touch but you got to know she’s my woman.”
The oldest one called Mufta moved closer so that his face was only inches from Maureen’s. Without looking at Sam, he said, “What’s a good lookin bitch like you doin with an ugly old man like this?”
Sam reached around Maureen and grabbed him by the shirt, “I’ll tell you, motherfucker. She’s gonna suck my dick. She’s gonna fuck my dick. She’s gonna take my dick up her fine white ass!”
Mufta stepped back still staring at Maureen, “That right? You gonna do him like he say?”
Maureen looked directly at him, “Yes. I’m his woman. I give him what he wants. I do what he tells me.”
All three of the men laughed. Louis slapped Sam on the back, “You sure one lucky fucker,” he said. He sidled up next to Sam. “I don’t suppose you might consider a little rental deal?” He nodded in the direction of the rest rooms at the far end of the bar. Next to them was a third door with a blue light above it.
Sam chuckled, “Depends,” he said. “It’s possible.” All three of the men smiled knowingly. They moved back to where they’d been sitting.
A small band had assembled at the other end of the dance floor. More couples began to fill the booths. More single men arrived and sat at the bar. It was a mixed crowd but predominately black. Maureen saw that she was the only white woman with a black man. She noticed Sam was frowning. She had to find a way to persuade him to take her to a motel instead of back to her house. She edged closer to him, “Sam, honey, what’s wrong? What can I do to make you smile?” She rubbed her leg against his.