The Heart of Revenge (29 page)

“No! No! Don’t move Vybz, Don't move, Just
stay there, don't move.”

The cock is in her sweet spot, she is riding
her fucking senses out to ecstasy, the big stiff fleshy head of my
cock is right in there, smooth and slippery in that sweet G-spot,
she grinds on it, the round smooth head internally massaging her
deep, rubbing it, rubbing herself on it right there, riding,
riding, pleasing herself ontop, it’s the best sex feeling ever, her
pussy clamps so tight around my cock, jumping with my cock
in-between it. I look at my luggage, think about the time. I feel
her pussy flexing, grabbing and letting go, she tosses her head
back, her eyes closed, she swallows her spit and I stay perfectly
still, only her loin moving sweetly, smoothly working, she is in
perfect concentration, she swallows again, eyes closed yet still
dreamy, she rides her black cock like its a machine, consumes the
sweetest black cock into her, tries to fucking destroy her own
pussy on my cock. Goes harder, frantic, wild. The flesh of her ass
spilling backward on my thighs with every hard thrust she makes and
spills back in place with a bounce. I grip at her hipbone tighter,
her face motioning closer over my face, presses her forehead
against my cheek, her body winds upward with every stroke climbing
deeper into her. Keeping myself on her sweetspot, keeping it there.
Her moans getting louder, her hair a mess, she goes faster and
faster and faster, she lose total sanity. Pleasure takes over her
mind, the movements of her body.

I hope she cums already, please, I have less
than a minute.

She sticks her tongue out and let only the
flat pad of her moist warm tongue glaze over my mouth, both my
lips, bites on my lower lip and pulls on it hard. The round head of
my cock is in her pleasure-nest, her sweet-spot. Right there, right
where it feels so fucking good, right there, feels so good, so
good, so fucking good. Her longing fiery desires swells inside her,
brims up to her clit, her head sways in slow motion, in pleasure,
drunken in the sweet pleasure of fuck. She feels my cock beating
inside her like a heartbeat, hot, throbbing, warm, in her tight
enlivened pink flesh. I hear my cell vibrates. She talks sexy,
talks dirty and unfiltered,

“Bloodclawt ... you hood feel good! It feel
so fucking good in mi pussy, so fucking good!”

She opens her eyes, looks at me with intense
lewdness and command “Kiss mi! Kiss mi now”

I want to check my phone. Her tongue was out
before she got the kiss, my lips touch her tongue, she swallows my
mouth. Squirming in a high pitch and riding, riding, riding me.
Riding my cock. She’s about to cum or explode. Who calling? She
makes a loud squirm,

“Mmmhhhmm!” as she feels the cum running down
into her loin, ravishing her nerves, her whole body feels like a
huge nerve that’s too sensitive to be touch, her entire skin arouse
with sensual passion, deeper than her skin, down in her flesh, in
her bones. She rocks her hips hard ontop of me like a mad woman,
sending her tongue far down into my warm mouth, both her hands
clamping my cheeks, still squirming, long and loud moans into my
mouth “Mmmhhhhmm” she presses her breast against my chest, her
breath stops as she kisses me madly deep and fucks the sweetest
cock she has ever felt inside her. I pinch her nipple, roll them.
Pull them, pinch them, suck them, it magnifies her feeling, she
wants to explode. She is squeezing her eyes shut tight, her eyelids
is cringing, her mouth wide open as she speaks to herself in a
moaning tone,

“Oh ... right there, right there, mi a cum,
mi a cum, Oh God mi a cum!”

Finally, I thought. She becomes senseless, in
a sexual trance, the wild mad frenzy of cumming. She latches on
around my neck, sends her groin slapping countless times into my
waist as she rubs off her pussy on my cock with shorter wild
strokes, rocking on my thick cock madly, wild, the cum shoots
through her, rattling every nerve in her, her cum is on the edge of
squirting out her pussy. My phone makes the special ringtone I have
for my closest friend, Finaral. What the hell does he want now? I
don't want to hear from him. Damn, if he ever had any idea I’m
fucking his ex-girlfriend right now, I’m good as dead. Portia gets
louder,

"Yes! Cumming, I’m cumming! Mi a cum!”

And nobody was calling Portia’s name.

by: Leelia Lexings

“Lee?” Mr. Douglas took a pause, then asked
“You don’t plan to give up today, huh? ... How the hell you get up
here by the way? Huh?”

I had to protect Mr. Willie. I said
nothing.

“Hope is not the idiot Mr. Willie let you up
here after mi just tell him don’t even let in mi mother enuh. Or
else him just lose him work.”

“Is not Mr. Willie let me through.”

“So him leave the gate wide open? Huh? Is a
worthless at the gate then, is not a security that. Mi and him
rass.”

Mr. Douglas didn’t open the door. He was
shouting on the phone, I heard him loud and clear,

“Fucking Novice Willie! Mi in so much trouble
and mi tell you one simple thing. Just one, Don’t let in not even
mi mother and you do the nex thing. Pack up every single piece of
you mumma bloodclawt things and leave mi property! Now! You’re
fired! ... Bloodclawt man!” I heard Mr. Willie slammed the phone
down just as loud as Mr. Douglas was shouting.

Oh Christ. Mr. Willie. I felt a huge guilt
darkened my inside. I ushered myself, thinking Mr. Willie didn’t
lose his job in vain, it’s for a good cause, your saving a life. I
would try to set up a job for him, but right now Mr. Douglas is my
focus, trying to save something you can’t get a new one of. Lose it
and its final. A life. I got straight to the point.

“The driver’s dead Mr. Douglas, his head was
split wide open.”

The door busted open immediately. The room
was a clutter, three huge suitcase were wide open like square clam
shells on the bed, drawers opened and clothes haphazardly
slap-dashed all over the room.

I spoke low with a calm levelled head.

“Don’t be stupid.” He turned looking at me,
“Running away won’t help. They have your licence plate. A big shot
like you they are gonna come at you hard, track your flight, your
credit card, seize your assets, accounts .. . everything.” His
baldhead flustering, dripping sweat right around his face, “Let me
help you.”

Mr. Douglas placed his laptop slowly in the
red suitcase and pulled out a shiny chrome gun. Aimed it at my
head.

A text came in from Pinky. ‘Beep ... Beep.’
Frightened, my body jumped, finger pressed on my phone, opening the
text, it read

‘Tanx 4 always helpin out sis!!! :) :)
:).’

I looked back up into the gun. I felt my
flesh falling off my bones.

by: Leelia Lexings

“What you want huh?” What is it!”

Both my hands reached out towards his chest,
my ten fingers pointed up to the high ceiling, my hand trembling
out of control. I felt my heart sticking, just sticking me,
sticking me, pins and needles, like I too had Vance’s heart
problem. Uh, damn it pained. I kept my mouth shut, muffled my heavy
wheezing that came on, grabbed on my left breast, clenched,
squeezed. Mr. Douglas eyes zoomed in at my breasts that I squeezed.
Almost as if he enjoyed seeing me squeezing on my tits. Would he
really shoot me? I lunged for air. Would he kill me? My heart felt
so much pain, as if someone was opening my heart with a chain-saw.
Mr. Douglas? I caught my breath, heaved, exhaled, breathe, breathe
but my head delirious, spinning, tightened, thinking, wondered,
would he? He asked me,

“Huh, What you want?” Mr. Douglas lips drew
back in a angry snarl, shook his gun impatiently at me. I raised my
hand from my heart and begged. My heart tempo resuming to
normal.

“Calm down Mr. Douglas, I’m here to help you.
Your brains watery upstairs or something?”

“How? Huh?”

“Just put down the gun so we can talk.”

“Chat now nuh gal!” He didn’t put his gun
down. I stuttered.

“I ... I ... I can help ... I can help you to
disappear. Without a trace. Before tomorrow afternoon.” He got even
angrier, his hand shook visibly in a no non-sense manner, twitching
to pull the trigger. The aim of the gun waved all over my face, I
squinted as it pointed to my eye. His whole body jerked in a
tantrum as he exploded,

“Think I’m fucking stupid, huh? HUH?”

He callously rammed the gun into my face, my
cheekbone, the hard metal nozzle slammed against my solid
cheekbone, it hurt. He shoved it, it bruised, tore my skin, bled.
He kept pressing it cold-heartedly against my cheekbone, kept
shoving it, crushed it hard into my cheek, pain, my flesh squashed
thin between the nozzle and my cheekbone, pain, my head tilt back.
The nozzle slid on my skin, went under my eye. My head rocked
backward again, he heartlessly shoved it harder, eager to get rid
of me. My heartbeat tripled. All my words were trying to get out in
one breath.

“No, no, no, I swear...” My words were racing
out before he squeezed the trigger. “My bestfriend Gloe has a
girlfriend who's a bandooloo-ist, I mean she can get you fake
everything. Everything. Everything you need to escape. Passport,
cards, visa, I.D., anything.” The gun was still in my face, the
pressure not hard anymore, I felt it on my skin, but not slammed on
my bone.

“What you want from me?”

“Look, let’s be civil ... we both need help.
You got the cash that can help me out with my brother and I have
the connections you need to vanish before they lock you behind bars
... your case is a straight deal ... man-slaughter, fifteen to
twenty years. You prepared for that? Let's not lose our heads and
be reasonable about this Mr. Douglas.” His eyes twitched as he came
out of his own mind of reasoning, he then commanded,

“State your price. Little Smart-Ass.”

“Remember that night.” I coolly reminded him
before stating the price, trying to win more leverage on a deal,
but not to provoke him back to anger. “I’ll let that thing
disappear too, I will totally forget it ... Especially for your
son’s own future.”

“What’s your damn price? You conniving,
manipulative SLUT!” He balled his fist and clench his teeth saying
‘slut’. That was the first time I was ever looking at the
bald-headed Mr. Douglas so closely as to recognise that his teeth
were the same color as golden piss.

“Slut? Who you calling a Slut?”

“You! You disgusting ghetto whore. You and
your mother is always about getting some money. Your mother did it
when she was young, I paid her in full, I was to get you when you
were seventeen and the bitch touted you to hook up with Qwan,
blighting my chances with you after I already gave her my money.
You were to be mine not Qwan’s, mine. You two will sell your ribs
for money. I know your brother’s heart problem is another big lie
that you and your mother using to wring money out of us, out of
Qwan. Use you to get money from Qwan and from me ... You low life
ghetto scums would do anything for money. Anything! You think you
know how big of a slut you mother is? You have no idea. Why you
think mi fire her? You are just the same ... like mother, like
slut!”

A turmoil of emotions ran through me in every
different color imaginable. My mom was never a slut. Never will be
a slut. I’m certainly no slut ...Vance heart problem is real. Isn’t
it? My mom would never. Would she? No she wouldn’t. This scandalous
bald-head man is trying to play with my psyche, ruin me and Mom. If
this were ever true, I would definitely ... no it can’t be true. I
see Vance at the hospital, I’ve seen his attacks. Why am I making
this corrupted perverted man who can’t be trusted let me have
second thoughts about something that’s clearly facts. Let him pay
for his words. Let him pay.

“Sixty thousand U.S.!”

“You out of your bleeding mind slut? Huh?
Huh?”

I folded my arms and stared at him. I can’t
believe someone like him, after what I caught him doing have the
nerve to be judging my Mom. I always stood my distance from him,
whenever he is at the house, he was just that eerie and creepy and
icky that my instinct told me to stay away. Seemed my instinct was
right. He was a real low life for calling Mommy that. I bet every
other rumour about him is true. So maybe that’s the reason he ran
Qwan out his house when I left, he wanted me, he didn’t want Qwan
to have me. I can't believe Mr. Douglas. Gosh! He sickens me. That
day would never come in a million years. That sick bastard. What
if? ... But I was just fourteen. I should expose this son of a
bitch for who he really is to every media in Jamaica. Mr. Douglas
tightened his jawbone with dreadful anger, chew on his lip,

“Who you looking on like that huh gal? He
raised his gun to the center of my forehead. “Better if mi kill you
right now.” I didn’t flinch.

“Yeah. Go shoot your face! You know you ain't
shooting a soul. You wouldn’t be so stupid to shoot your only help
right now.” I slapped the gun out my face. “Take this stupid thing
out my face before you hurt somebody. Get this through your thick
skull. I. AM. YOUR. ONLY. HELP ... This SLUT! Ok?”

He lowered his gun, his head in a thick smoke
of confusion, lost in a florae of thoughts.

“This is outrageous. Blackmail! Can get all
this for thirty-five.”

“You and this STUPID SLUT both know, by the
time you get all the connections to all the persons you need, your
name and picture will be on every wall like the great L.A. Lewis
... You should be thanking this ... SLUT.”

He became sensible, surrendered. Tossed his
gun in his suitcase, rubbed his hand behind his neck, then squeezed
on his forehead like it was a stress-ball.

“Get me twenty now and I start the process
tonight. Time’s ticking away. The sooner the better.”