The Punany Experience (11 page)

Stormy thought of how Tom would retaliate on her later that night. And for a moment, she thought,
that might not be too bad
. He had never hit her. Whenever she had pissed him off before, he would punish her by becoming an animal in the bedroom, remaining missionary, but thrusting deeply and talking the kind of shit men talked on movies about bad boys. It really got her excited to see him that way, but it was always short-lived.

By morning, he was always the same anal-retentive jerk he had been the day before, barking orders and passing out judgments like she was a house slave and he was her master. Stormy supposed Tom thought he had been hurting her with his penis, but the nights he was his maddest, she had come her closest to having her first orgasm. She could feel it coming…kind of hovering on the brink of something amazing…something that she could not quite describe, but it never happened. In a way, she did not want it to come. If she allowed him to take her body anywhere near the sensation that people had described to her about orgasms, she might be his sex slave for real. Tom was definitely not cool enough to deserve that kind of obedience.

“Fuck!” Tom said, snapping her out of her fantasy flash.

She assumed the position of a mistress being reprimanded and dropped her head. She froze herself into an abused woman’s coma and did not move until he made her move. She wanted him to feel his strength restoring itself. She would humble herself to let him do this until the money was right enough for him to maintain a wife and a mistress, if that is what he needed. He had already lost three city contracts. If he lost another, she might become an expense that he couldn’t afford.

Tom recomposed himself and nodded at a woman with a short
haircut in a black suit and a purple shirt, looking curiously at him from across the room. “Go now, before I have to explain you.”

Stormy walked away from him without saying a word.

“So you really gave the cigarettes up,” Korea was saying in conclusion to the conversation already in progress. “Good for you.”

“I get stressed. I think about smoking, but I press on,” Grace Riley said.

Tom painted a smile on his face and walked toward the councilwoman, who was chatting with Korea Smith. They both watched him as he approached.

“Hello, Councilwoman Riley,” he said, “this sure is a fine affair.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked rhetorically, looking over his shoulder at the woman he had left behind. Stormy was asking the woman at the coat check for directions to the bathroom.

“It’s sure to get more interesting as the night progresses,” Korea chimed in. Korea’s eyes were following a teary-eyed Stormy as she rushed to the bathroom.

“Tom Brown, right?” the politician said, extending her hand to shake his.

“Yes,” he said. “Brown Youth Services. And you are?” he asked, turning his attention to Korea, extending his hand to hers.

“Korea Smith; Project W.H.Y.”

“I’m sorry; I’m not familiar.”

“Oh? Don’t you have a television?” she quipped at him. “I’m sorry, Grace. I see someone that I have to talk to. Will you please excuse me?”

“Definitely,” Grace Riley said with a knowing look on her face. “So, we are clear on the terms and conditions of the program, yes?”

“As clear as crystal,” Korea answered. “I may have to leave quickly, so I will say goodbye now. It has been a pleasure, as always. I’ll have my secretary call yours, first thing Monday morning.”

“Good night then,” the councilwoman said, nodding her head.

“Tom.” Korea nodded at him, excusing herself.

“Councilwoman Riley, if you would allow me a few moments of your time to tell you about BYS. I think our youth should be gainfully employed, staying out of trouble and learning to run a small business. So far I have plans for a coffee stand at the courthouse and a flower shop right on Grand Avenue.”

BS is more like it
, Korea thought. She could hear that asshole brown-nosing all the way from the bathroom door, where she was going to find his beautiful wife. “Lots of luck, motherfucker; that deal is already sealed,” she said under her breath as she pulled the bathroom door open.

Stormy stood in the mirror, crying and cupping her hand under the running sink water, lifting the ounces she had collected in her palm to her hair. She seemed to be trying to twist her hair into a bun and hold it in place with a hair bow that was far too small to get the job done.

“What are you doing?” Korea said behind her.

Stormy turned around, startled. Her skin was dewy from the struggle with her hair; water streamed down her neck. Her nipples were hard and poking boldly through the blue silk.

“My guess is that you don’t know what water does to silk.”

Stormy looked down at her dress and saw hundreds of water spots staining her dress.

“Oh shoot!” Stormy said, “I give up.”

“You won’t get very far, giving up so quickly.”

“So I’ve heard,” Stormy said. “But some things aren’t worth fighting over.”

“I see. Do you want me to help you to do what seems impossible to you right now? Or do you want me to tell you the truth and save you the headache? ’Cause, lady, getting all that hair into that little rubber band is definitely going to give you a headache.”

Korea was the most perfect thing Stormy had ever seen. She was as confident as any man, yet beautiful enough to be on the cover of a fashion magazine. Even through her handsome black suit, Stormy could see she had amazing curves. She was cool and she was fly. She had stolen Stormy’s voice with a style and swagger that made Tom look like the Uncle Tom she had discovered he was.

“I…”

Korea knew the woman was not able to express what she was feeling in that moment. Korea had put that doe-eyed look on more women than she cared to count.

“Here,” Korea said, “let me help you. You seem like you need the truth more than you need that hair bow.”

Korea stepped quickly to her. She took the fabric-covered band from her hand, letting her finger linger in her palm for a moment. She realized that she probably didn’t have a whole lot of time, but if she played her hand right, she wouldn’t need very much. Korea tossed the band across the room, and then rubbed and fluffed Stormy’s hair until it was something like a curly lion’s mane.

Her tiny glossed lips were only inches from Stormy’s as she spoke. “The truth is…you are the most beautiful woman in this building. You are perfect just like you are. You don’t have to change for them. They need to change for you.”

Stormy inhaled the intoxicating pheromones on Korea’s breath and left her mouth open for her tongue to come inside. Korea pulled her head back by her hair and kissed her deeply, sweeping her tongue over and under Stormy’s, reaching it as far down in her throat as she could.

“Umm, you ever kiss a woman before?”

“I have now,” Stormy said breathlessly. “Wow, you move fast.”

“I could say the same about you, couldn’t I? Is that guy your husband?
Tom Brown
…” Korea mimicked the pompous way he had said his own name.

“Yes, I mean, no. We’re not married but we’ve been together for ten years. It’s just like we’re married.”

“Ten years?”

“Yes, since my senior year of high school.”

“No. Actually, it’s not like you’re married. This is California, not Texas. There’s no common law security for women who live with men they aren’t married to in the Golden State. If your name isn’t on the deed to his house or his cars, everything you own is standing right here in front of me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yes, it’s true. You need to talk to a lawyer.”

“No, I don’t. I couldn’t care less about that. I was asking if you are serious about this.”

Stormy wrapped her hands around Korea’s neck and kissed her mouth again. They kissed deeply. This time, it was Stormy’s tongue that searched and explored Korea’s mouth. Her lips were twice as big and covered Korea’s mouth completely. Stormy was breathing heavy and getting hot all over her body. Her hips began to roll and pump against Korea’s thigh. Korea could smell her pussy, a sweet and subtle fragrance of dew and raw honey that had snaked its way up Stormy’s dress and spilled from her chest, flooding the steamy air between them.

“Damn, you don’t smell like a straight girl.”

“What?” Stormy giggled, looking away shyly. Then realizing her body was getting carried away, she backed her pelvis away from Korea’s leg. “What does a straight girl smell like?”

“Dick, of course,” Korea answered.

“Oh, no, I don’t do that. I never have.”

“You don’t fuck your man? No wonder he’s snatching you up.”

“You saw that?”

“Huh, yeah. I think everybody did. You walked in, looking so
fine in this bright blue dress, while everybody else in here looks like they’re at a wake, with your hair screaming, ‘Look at me!’ You had every head turning; the men and their horny little wives were checking you out.”

Stormy blushed. “Really?”

“Really, lady. I think everyone saw.” Korea twirled a piece of Stormy’s hair in her finger. “Everyone was looking at you, just like I was.”

“Of course, he makes love to me,” Stormy said. “I mean, he fucks me. But I have never had sex without a rubber. Not with him, or anyone else; not since my first time.”

“Damn,” Korea said, surprised and impressed, “so much for you being passive.”

“Passive? Me? No, I’m not passive. I simply don’t like confrontation.” With that thought, Stormy sighed and relaxed a bit. She turned around to face the mirror again. “So, you’re telling me that if I leave him, I leave with nothing after all this time?”

“Pretty much, unless he’s a nice guy.”

“What are you? Lawyer or something?”

“No, I’m a businesswoman.”

“Oh. That could mean a lot of things.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Money makes my pussy wet. I love it and it loves me. I make a lot of it and I love to spend it on pretty things. But I’m a do-gooder. Part of my business is to teach youth how to become business people. I’ve pulled a lot of drug dealers out of the game.”

“Wow, that’s very cool,” Stormy said, as she turned to look in the mirror to check on the mess she had made of herself. She winced at the sight of the water stains on the dress, but Korea had given her hair a confident flair. With her eyeliner smudged and nothing but orange residue left on her lips, she had a sexy
coke whore look going on. “Hey, is that your commercial on TV…the one where the boy is on the corner selling crack and the woman drives up and snatches him into a van, just before the cops roll up?”

“Yes, that’s it. That’s my non-profit organization. We work with all kinds of children who are dealing with all kinds of shit: drugs; homelessness; poverty; sexual abuse. We even have a program to get teenage prostitutes out of the life. It’s called Project W.H.Y.”

“Oh, yes, that is you! I really feel your program. Oh my God, you have to talk to Tom.” Stormy knew Tom hated the controversial ad campaign, but this woman was just the person to teach him what Stormy had not been able to talk to him about. This woman was sexy and smart. Surely she could get, and keep, his attention. “He could learn a lot from you.”

“That may be but I don’t mentor adults. Besides, we’ve met,” Korea said, using a voice that signified she was unimpressed.

“Oh boy, judging by your tone, it sounds like you
have
already talked to him. Every time your commercial comes on, he complains. He absolutely hates them. He says they show disrespect for the law. But I think they’re great. I love the W.H.Y. acronym, and the way the guy comes on at the end of the commercial and says: ‘Get off the street. Get in your life. Get the Will to Help Yourself. Project W.H.Y.’”

“I hate to break it to you. Tom’s a dick. And his Brown Youth Services program is some bullshit. What the fuck is up with teaching black kids how to be maids and janitors. He’s probably getting funding from the KKK.” Korea felt herself get completely turned on by the bright eyes and youthful enthusiasm of this woman. “I hope you’re as fantastic as you seem.”

“Why do you say that?” Stormy asked.

“Because, I want to take you home with me.”

“Whoa…I…”

“Don’t talk. Just listen. If you don’t like what I have to say, don’t say anything; simply walk away. I wouldn’t be able to stand the rejection. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright, here it is. I don’t waste time,” Korea said, holding on to the woman who was melting like butter in her hands. “Whatever is in your closet at his house, I can replace. Whatever he’s got you driving, I will upgrade. You can have your own room, and a beautiful penthouse home to run as you see fit. All I would ever ask you for is that you keep that bright smile and sunny disposition. All I would ask you for is to stay available to me. You’re like a bright light. I saw you shining from across the room. I came in this bathroom to take you home.”

“Wow. What’s your name?”

“Korea Smith.”

“Well, Korea, if you fuck anything like you kiss, we may have a future together.”

“Do you cook?”

“I’m a chef.”

“Are you kidding me? That Tom is one dumb motherfucker.”

“I mean, I was. I have a culinary arts degree. But Tom wanted me to quit my job so I could be home when he gets home from work. Restaurant hours can be very long. So I only cook at home. It’s kind of a hobby now.”

“If you haven’t barebacked since your first time, is it safe to conclude you don’t have any children?”

“It’s safe.”

Yes
, Korea thought to herself. Korea had a thing for straight women. But they usually came with emotional baggage, physical
luggage, or both. This chick was practically a virgin. “One more thing…”

“My name is Stormy,” she answered, anticipating the question.

“Perfect,” Korea said, grabbing Stormy by the hand. “Come on; let’s go.”

“We can’t walk through the party and leave together like that.”

“Oh yes, we can,” Korea said.

Korea held the bathroom door open. She could smell Stormy’s fear. Korea guided her out of the restroom, with a single hand placed on the small of her back. Then she grabbed her by the hand, and guided her through the party, past the coat check to the door. At the door, Korea turned to look behind her at Councilwoman Riley, who was still being held prisoner by Tom Brown. Grace Riley shook her head, and laughed when she saw that Korea had retrieved this man’s woman from the bathroom and was leaving with her.