Double Dippin' Page 7

  Dolores Holmes’s relief, however, was short-lived for Shane apparently had another idea. He grabbed her hand and guided it to his crotch. He squirmed restlessly. She knew what he wanted—he wanted to make sure she had a one-way ticket to hell.

  Accepting her fate, she stroked his hard lengthening private part until it grew so large, she withdrew her hand in alarm. Being that he was so young and all, she was shocked by the enormous size. It had been such a long time since she’d been with a man like this…a man! Shane was just a teenager, she reminded herself. He was just a misguided youth, she thought with pity for herself as well as the boy.

  Shane began to make hissing sounds, words she couldn’t decipher. Then she heard him say, “Suck it!” in a voice that was crystal clear.

  “No, Shane. Now, that’s a terrible thing to want. Suppose your brother wakes up. You know what you’re asking for just isn’t right.”

  He nudged her head toward his crotch. “Suck it.” His voice was demanding and loud enough to wake up Tariq.

  Resolutely, she pointed to the dining room, where a wall would block Tariq’s view if he suddenly awakened and came downstairs.

  In a corner, beside the china closet, the overweight Dolores Holmes struggled to get down on her knees. It occurred to her that never in her life, not even during her most despicable drinking days, had she ever committed such an outrageous act as what she was doing now.

  Before she had even gotten into a reasonably comfortable position, Shane said in a hoarse voice, “Open your mouth.” She did as she was told and drew his private into her mouth.

  She sucked it, swearing to Jesus that the disgraceful deed was Satan in action and was entirely against her will. She was not a sinner; she’d make that claim with her hand placed upon a stack of Bibles.

  Shane started making a lot of noise. Moaning, grunting, growling, and calling out, “Mommee,” in a strange voice that was entirely too loud. And so Ms. Holmes sucked harder and faster, trying to hurry him along, trying to finish him off, so there could be peace and quiet in the house.

  “Do you love me, Mommy?” he asked when it was over. She nodded her head. She couldn’t respond verbally; her mouth was filled with semen.

  CHAPTER 12

  1999

  On their fifteenth birthday, Dolores Holmes bought the boys a Super Nintendo and all the gadgets that went with the console, but Shane still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted a new game to play every week as well as those expensive Jordan sneakers. Not just for him. Tariq, he insisted, had to have a new pair as well.

  Ms. Holmes didn’t have the kind of money required to buy Shane’s silence. And she didn’t have the willpower to make him leave her alone.

  Their relationship included intercourse now. Fornication! She and Shane indulged the devil any time of the day or night. She sorrowfully shook her head. Now that the devil had possession of the boy, it no longer seemed to matter to Shane whether Tariq was at home or not—he had his way with her whenever he felt good and ready.

  She could only pray that the sweet little lamb, Tariq, was innocently unaware that their home was no longer sacred; it was a sinful, immoral place.

  Ms. Holmes could be down in the basement washing a load of laundry early in the morning and Shane would creep up behind her, lift up her dress, and snatch down her panties. Or he’d sneak up on her the minute she came out of the bathroom, quietly forcing her back inside the small room, coercing her to bend over the sink, the toilet, or the tub while he penetrated from behind.

  Her knees were covered with rug burns, hidden with flesh-colored Band-aids.

  If he came home late and caught her in bed, he’d crawl in there with her, too. Scared to death that Tariq would hear them, she usually waited up late for Shane, dozing off as she tried to watch TV in the living room. Sometimes he came home and didn’t bother her; he’d look at her and just go straight up to bed. But most times he joined her on the sofa.

  There was no hope for her. Satan had sent that boy to test her faith and she’d failed. She was a sinner—a wanton and wicked woman. She was going straight to hell in a hand basket, so why put up a fight when she’d already lost the battle?

  Therefore, most nights she made it easy for Shane. She’d sit on the couch, fat and naked under her nightgown as she waited for him to come home and start messing with her. And when he did, Ms. Holmes submissively spread her massive thighs without prompting, allowing the teenager to stick his finger deep inside her, letting him work on her until her body started acting up. Twisting and turning, she’d arch her back like a nasty ol’ alley cat. No decency, no self-respect left. Acting right whorish, she’d shock herself as she pushed down on Shane’s finger, wiggling around, hot and bothered and anxious for the real thing.

  The other downside of Satan’s stronghold on Dolores Holmes’s life was her money situation. She’d started ducking bill collectors because she could no longer pay anything on time. Her car needed a tune-up and had started rattling real loud. All four tires were bald. The house needed repairs but she was flat broke most of the time because she was spending and giving so much to Shane and Tariq, there wasn’t hardly anything left to run the household. Shane could finagle her out of her last dime. It was a sin and a shame, but she couldn’t tell that boy no.

  The little bit of money she managed to hold onto was spent at the liquor store. Yes, indeed, the devil was busy. So busy he’d escorted her right back into the fire of hell, which was found in the bottom of a bottle of gin.

  She needed help from the Lord but was too embarrassed to go to church.

  Sinners shouldn’t be sitting up in the Lord’s house. And she didn’t want the pastor to know that Satan had gotten a hold on her again. She’d taken a mighty bad fall. Hard times were upon her but she didn’t want any of the good church folks to know. Feeling like Satan’s sister, she turned up the bottle and took a gulp of gin.

  Shane knew LaDonna was on Baltimore Avenue, working at her new job at Easy’s ice cream parlor, but that didn’t stop him from going to her house.

  “She ain’t home,” her mother said through the intercom.

  “I know, Miss Goldie. LaDonna told me to check on you.”

  “Check on me? For what?” Her voice crackled over the intercom.

  “To see if you needed anything done around the house or something from the store.”

  “Since when did that trifling girl get so considerate? All right, come on in. Let’s see if I can find something for you to do.” The buzzer sounded and Shane eagerly pushed the door open.

  Miss Goldie was looking too damn good in a long cotton dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Big dangling gold earrings with her name set in the middle bobbed back and forth as she walked back into the living room after opening the door. She had about six or seven gold chains of various lengths hanging from her neck. Gold bracelets dangled from both wrists, and gold and diamond rings decorated her fingers. Her hair was medium length and streaked blonde. Actually, it was more gold in color than blonde.

  Miss Goldie took her name seriously, Shane decided. But it was cool. She was cool. And she had a helluva body as well as a pretty face.

  LaDonna looked a lot like her mother, but LaDonna was nothing more than a replica. Shane found the original version to be more mature, more confident, and much sexier. LaDonna now seemed like a little girl with no sex appeal at all. She was cute and everything, but her mom had it going on.

  Miss Goldie had a round, swollen ass and big bouncy tits. Shane would have been happy to just sit and stare at the good-looking woman for hours on end.

  “So whatchu want me to do?”

  “Do you know where LaDonna keeps that drug dealer’s stash?”

  “Um…what?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Where’s the reefer at?”

  “Oh! That stash.”

  “Yeah, I know damn well you don’t think I’d be messing around with no crack.” Goldie curled her upper lip in disgust. Shane was transfixed. Even with her mouth held in a l
opsided position, he had to admit…Miss Goldie had sexy lips. She shook a cigarette out of a pack. Just watching her put that cigarette in her mouth was fascinating. And stimulating.

  With the quick flick of a lighter, she took a puff, making her lips a round and inviting circle as she blew out puffs of smoke.

  “LaDonna better not touch no crack either. I let her keep small amounts of his product here because that drug dealer pays real well. He gets her hair and nails done and buys her designer clothes, which make it easy on my pocket-book.” Goldie narrowed her eyes in thought. “But I’m not too sure I like her working for him at his ice cream parlor. Hmph. That place ain’t nothing but a front. I told her, if she gets caught up in a drug bust, don’t call me.”

  “She keeps the reefer in an empty box of tampons,” Shane interjected.

  Goldie broke out in a grin. “Damn, that’s a smart little bitch. I must have taught her well.” Goldie went in LaDonna’s room and came back with what looked to be damn near a half-ounce of weed.

  Shane’s eyes widened at the large amount she’d stolen. He and LaDonna were very cautious about the amounts they pinched off, always careful not to take enough for Easy to notice.

  “Yeah and…” she challenged, rotating her pretty neck. Shit, everything about the woman was beautiful, Shane decided with a lustful sigh.

  “Nothing; it ain’t my stuff.” Shane held up both hands in surrender. The gesture also implied that he wasn’t involved if the shit hit the fan.

  “This ain’t LaDonna’s house,” Goldie said, pursing her full and luscious lips. “Let that drug-dealin’ nigga come see me if he got a problem with anything.”

  Miss Goldie talked a lot of trash; Shane liked that. He liked everything about her. Using Top paper, she rolled an old-fashioned joint, puffed twice, and passed. Shane was honored but wished she were passing him a blunt.

  “You drink beer?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But I guess they won’t serve you at the deli, huh?”

  “Uh huh,” he said in protest. “They serve me. You know I don’t look my age,” he said as he smoothed the silky hair on his upper lip.

  “All right,” she said, smiling. “Go get us a six-pack of Bud.” She went toward her pocketbook.

  “I got it! Shane said, refusing to take her money.

  “Aw shit. Check out the young buck. Don’t tell me Easy got you working for him?”

  “No. I don’t even know Easy. I get money from the state.”

  “Whatchu mean?”

  “Well, I’m in foster care, so the state has to give me money every month,” he said, lying again.

  “I thought they paid the people that took care of you. I didn’t know they gave the kids money, too. Hey, that’s a sweet deal.”

  “Yeah, they give you money after you turn thirteen.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Sixteen.” He was lying so much, he’d be in deep shit if his name was Pinocchio.

  “Hmph. I need to think about getting me a foster child. Maybe I wouldn’t have to work so many shifts.” Goldie went into deep thought, and then reminded Shane to go get the beer.

  When he came back they smoked four joints and drank all six cans of beer. Everything he said was hilarious and everything she said made him laugh so hard it hurt his sides. He had more fun with Miss Goldie than he’d ever had with her daughter. She was just the type of woman he needed.

  Feeling the effects of the weed, Goldie curled up on the sofa and dreamily closed her eyes.

  Shane stared at her, totally captivated. She was beautiful in every way. The way she was curled up exaggerated the roundness of her ass. He couldn’t resist touching it. He scooted closer. What the hell—all she could do was cuss at him and tell him to get the fuck out.

  So he took a chance and softly caressed her round ass, making circular motions that he discovered turned Miss Goldie on. He knew she liked it because she started smiling with her eyes closed.

  Growing a little bolder, he tugged on the long dress. Inch by inch he pulled it up until he was looking at her bare ass. No panties. Just a pretty brown-skinned ass. Round like a basketball. Something strange came over him. Miss Goldie didn’t budge when he dropped to his knees and started placing kisses everywhere, even the crack of her ass. She moaned and turned over, smiled with her eyes still closed, and said, “That’s enough for now.” She rose up and looked at the clock. “It’s time for you to go home.”

  “Why?” Shane felt desperate. His desire for her consumed him.

  Her eyes showed amusement. “You need to go because I might be too much for you.”

  “I can handle it. I’m a big boy with lots of experience. Why don’t you give me a chance, Miss Goldie. Please?” Shane didn’t mind begging.

  “Say pretty please.”

  “Pretty please,” he gladly repeated.

  “Do you eat pussy?” she asked nonchalantly.

  He didn’t. Hadn’t planned on it, but today was a good time to start.

  “If you ain’t planning on going down south,” she continued, “there ain’t no point in wasting my time.”

  “Yeah, I eat it,” he quickly assured her.

  “Aw, you’re a liar. Tell the truth. You know your young ass ain’t never been down south.”

  “I said I did.” He looked down uncomfortably.

  “Whose pussy you eat? I hope it wasn’t LaDonna’s little stinkin’ twat.”

  “Hell no!” He grimaced, feeling genuine disgust.

  “Okay, well, show me how you do it.” Goldie wiggled to the edge of the couch, pulled up her dress, and opened her legs.

  Shane got down on his knees and pressed his face between her legs. She promptly clamped his head with her knees. He was locked in. A command performance was expected.

  His strong desire to please her turned him into a skilled master. Without a bit of practice or any kind of experience giving oral sex, Shane’s tongue found its way inside and began to slowly, lovingly suck on the dark forbidden flesh. He licked and sucked as if he’d been tonguing twat for years.

  He’d stop every few moments and talk to her using a husky voice, hitting her with a long stream of sex talk that had her humming in sexual excitement. “I’m loving this sweet pussy…damn, you taste good…you done turned me out and I might not want to fuck no more. I might be satisfied just sucking your pussy all day…all night long.”

  Extremely aroused, Goldie said, “Take off your pants and sit over there.” She pointed to a dining room chair.

  Reluctantly, he stopped licking and did as he was told. She was right behind him and straddled him the moment he sat down. Taking the role of aggressor, she fucked him like she was the man. With their bodies still attached, Shane suddenly stood up. Goldie wrapped her legs around his waist while her torso and head hung low to the floor.

  In that strange position, Shane’s long penis found its way to her secret place—a hidden place that Goldie didn’t even know existed. In her thirty-five years, she must have had thousands of orgasms, but never, ever had a dick touch that particular spot. Shane could feel it, too. The area was soft and delicate; it felt like his dick might break through. So instead of banging it hard like he wanted to, he took it slow. Pushing against the soft spot gently. His dick didn’t travel to other areas; he kept it pressed against her spot. Goldie didn’t thrust or buck either. She must have felt the same way because, although she remained upside-down, her pelvis didn’t rotate. Tightening her legs around his waist was the only movement she made.

  But the lack of frantic movement didn’t stop either from howling like wolves.

  Finally ready to bust a nut, Shane walked her back over to the couch. He pulled out, she tried to pull him back in, but he insisted on doing it his way—doggy-style. He wanted to see that big ass bounce. Bad mistake; it was too much for him. “Hurry up, baby,” he pleaded. “Get yours, because I’m about to bust.”

  Goldie tightened her vaginal muscles and pushed back, enabling her clit to r
ub against the base of his dick. She came with a piercing scream. He groaned when he shot his load.

  “Did you like it?” she asked, using a brand-new tone. A tone that sounded demure and sweet. The tone of a satisfied woman. A woman who definitely was going to want some more. If not today, then sometime soon. Shane could feel it; and he wanted her, too. But she told him he had to leave; LaDonna would be coming home soon.

  LaDonna was turning into Regent Street when she saw Shane exit her block and make a left on Fifty-Third. “Shane!” She called his name, but he didn’t hear her.

  It was amazing what a little competition could do. Now that she was busy working at the ice cream parlor, LaDonna thought, Shane must have realized how much he missed her. She missed him, too! She called him in a stronger voice, running as she yelled his name. But by the time she got to the corner, Shane was long gone—out of sight.

  Her shoulders heaved in disappointment and frustration. Oh well, she’d try to catch up with him tomorrow. Easy had let her get off early so she could bag up some product. He’d be coming to pick it up in a couple hours.

  CHAPTER 13

  The smell of alcohol was not only on Ms. Holmes’s breath, the strong scent reeked throughout the entire house.

  The odor irritated Tariq; it made him feel sick to his stomach. But the queasy feeling was not caused by the stench of alcohol alone. Tariq was also heartsick. His girlfriend, Shiree, had gone to Wildwood, New Jersey, with her parents on a two-week vacation. Tariq had yet to receive a letter or even a postcard. It seemed Shane had abandoned Tariq as well. He was never home; sometimes he stayed out all night.

  Ms. Holmes just wasn’t herself anymore. She didn’t cook or clean like she used to. The only thing that hadn’t changed was her daily Bible reading. Sipping a glass of gin while reading the Good Book, Ms. Holmes, drunk as a skunk, would mutter curse words directed at Satan as she angrily turned each page. With the Bible in her hands she would stagger around the home, bumping into the TV, tables, and chairs.