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Authors: Trista Russell

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BOOK: Fly on the Wall
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“Well, c'mon.” Theo walked around the car and grabbed her hand. “Let's get inside.”
“Wait a second.” She resisted his pulling. “Whoever it was saw you.”
“So?” he said.
“Here at my house.” She tried to make him understand.
“And?” He brushed it off. “I could be here for a thousand different reasons.”
“Yeah, but at almost eleven o'clock at night?”
“Paige, I don't give a shit.”
“Well, I do.” She looked back down the road. “I could lose my job.”
“Come here.” He pulled her into an embrace and squeezed her. “We're already here, so let's make the most of it.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Shh,” he silenced her. “We're here.”
~Situation #11~
Theo
I
was convinced that crazy-ass Trese was either in or had something to do with the car that followed Paige. If she found out something, anything, she'd set out to make our lives miserable.
Paige opened the front door, disarmed the security system, and when she flicked the light switch, I couldn't say a word. It was West Dade paradise. Purple and gold decorations and balloons were everywhere, and a large banner that read
WAY TO GO THEO
was posted over the sliding glass door.
“Surprise!” She smiled up at me and stepped farther into the house. On the dining room table, set for two, was a small round cake with a basketball airbrushed onto it. Metallic purple confetti shone up from both the white-tiled floor and beige-carpeted area.
“Congratulations on your win.” She left my side to light the gold candles placed throughout the living room. “I knew that the game would be yours, so I planned a victory party.” On her way over to me, she turned out the lights. “You're my MVP.”
Here we were, back at her place, under the orange glow of candlelight again. I couldn't believe my eyes. She had done this for me . . . for me. It might not seem like much to some, but for this eighteen-year-old, it was like prom night five times over.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked.
My tongue wanted her cat. My hands slid down her back. “I can't believe you did this.”
“You like?” she asked.
I was in awe. I laughed and rubbed my head. “This is unbelievable.” My life was too damn sweet. I had just led my team to victory during our first game. I had Paige, an intelligent, beautiful, and sexy black woman in my life, and now I was walking into my own personal pep rally. There was no word to express what type of man she made me feel like.
With my hand in hers, she walked over to the stereo, and at a click of a button, the room was filled with a low trumpet, the soft, slow melody of a piano, shivering cymbals, and drums that were too elegant to be beaten harshly. We danced, and like a rain shower on a summer day, the notes sprinkled onto me but melted into my soul before I could wipe them away.
The music made its way into my mouth and I began to hum. As the vibration walked down my body, I could no longer pretend I hadn't spent the entire day wanting her. I picked her up by the waist, found her lips, and felt her legs wrapped around me. It was an open invitation. I tried to move slowly, use tact and be romantic, but as the drummer got excited, so did I, and when the piano keys got low, I did too . . . low, down, and dirty.
I backed her up against the wall and didn't have patience for all the buttons, so I ripped the blue blouse from her chest. I had missed two shots daydreaming about squeezing her big, dark brown nipples and their silver piercing between my fingers.
With her tongue wildly exploring my mouth and her back still up on the wall, I pulled Paige's skirt upward to her waist and barely got my basketball shorts to my thighs before I slipped into her. I palmed both of her ass cheeks and gave her so much dick that it should've come out on the other side of the wall.
“Aaah.” The saxophone wailed along with her. I bent my knees and felt myself fall into an untouched valley within her. I wanted that new property to know who was its founder. I hit that exact spot again and again, harder and harder, faster and faster, until her fingernails dug into my back for blood, her eyelids squeezed shut, and she groaned like someone was stabbing her.
“Theo,” she moaned.
“Yeah?”
“I have condoms,” she trembled and struggled to speak, “that we were supposed to use.”
“Oops.” I didn't let her comment interrupt my strokes. “Do you wanna get 'em?”
“Mmmm.” She moved her head up and down. “Yeah.”
“You wanna stop?” My rhythm never changed. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Damn.” She sighed as the song ended and the room fell silent. “No, don't stop.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, keep going, don't stop.” Her body heaved between each word, which was followed by a thrust. “Don't stop.”
I felt guilty about not using protection, especially after the hour-long telephone conversation we had about condoms the day after things happened the last time. We vowed to practice safe sex. In the past, I would never dip into anybody's chocolate pudding without taking the necessary precautions. I didn't know what had taken over me. Damn!
“Paige, you feel so good.” I slid our bodies down the wall and onto the plush carpet beneath. I moved her legs from my waist to my shoulders as my knees sank into the rug and I into her. The loud howl that escaped her was scary, so I slowed myself.
“What happened?” She looked at me.
“That noise you made,” I stuttered. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“That sound meant that it was getting good.” She smiled.
I smiled at her. “Oh, it was
just
getting good?”
“You know what I mean.” She laughed. “It was getting better.”
“It sounded like I was killin' you,” I joked.
“Then kill me,” she said with the naughtiest look on her face. “Kill me, Theo.”
With that said, my mushroom plowed back into her creamy soup bowl and sure enough, she howled again and again. “Is that the way you want it?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “Slaughter me.” Her legs tightened around my neck and she started to move her body like a snake, slapping that pussy into me over and over again. “Fuck me.” Damn!
“Oh yeah,” I said and closed my eyes.
“Fuck me, Theo.” Her dirty mouth took me to another level. She wailed. “Oh, oh, oh, God.” I poked her rapidly, repeatedly, and raunchily, penetrating deeper each and every time until her shaking, squealing, and squeezing led me to a final thrust. I burst within her walls and trembled for what seemed like an hour before falling to her side.
“We were supposed to eat first,” Paige whispered.
“I wasn't really hungry before.”
“Now?”
“Now I'll eat you if you come too close.”
“Let's see.” She climbed on top of me and gently touched my lips with her fingers. “Eat me,” she teased and giggled. “Ouch,” she cried when I softly bit her fingertip and pretended to chew.
Paige jumped up and returned a few minutes later wrapped in a pink terrycloth robe, carrying a sheet, a blanket, and two pillows. She then went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and two plates of Chinese food.
“That's what I'm talkin' 'bout,” I screamed, and then we got down to business.
After I was stuffed with egg-foo-this and sweet-and-sour-that, I put on my shorts and took the plates and utensils to the kitchen. I was smiling like a damn fool, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of her sink, washing dishes. I didn't even do dishes at home. This woman had some kind of wonderful something.
I returned to the living room to a fresh glass of champagne and Paige holding out a small wrapped box toward me. “This is for you.”
“What's this?” I hadn't felt this good since my twelfth birthday when Mom surprised me with a new Sega Genesis system. I tore apart the wrapping paper and opened the box to find a flip Samsung cellular phone. “Is this mine?”
“Yes.”
“Are you serious?” No woman other than my mother and aunts had ever spent more than twenty dollars on me.
“Yes, I'm serious,” she said as I turned it on and giggled at the cute sound that it made. “I get paranoid when you call me from home, so I got you a phone.”
“Thank you.” I sat next to her on the couch and pulled her to me, kissing her on the forehead. “Thank you so much.”
“My number is already programmed.” Paige smiled. “If I knew Angela's number, I would've put it in there too,” she said under her breath, “since you have so much to call her about.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She played it off.
“Come on, don't be shy now,” I said. “What did you say about Angie?”
She sat up. “I said that if I knew Angela's number, I would've programmed it, since you have so much to talk to her about. I heard that you called her last night.”
“Okay.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.” It seemed like Paige wanted a reason from me, but I wanted one from her first. “Why?”
“Why what?” she asked.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Well, why did you call her?”
I decided to put this foolish thing to an end so that our night could proceed. “I forgot to write down the homework assignment, and when I called you yesterday, you didn't answer.”
“But . . .” she said, “we talked last night and you never asked me about the homework.”
“I didn't have to. By that time I had already gotten the assignment from Angie.” I laughed. “That's why I called her.”
“Well,” she was embarrassed, “next time you need something from me, don't turn to anyone else for it.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I pulled her toward me and kissed her. “I need a little something right now.” We made our way to the bedroom and before long, if it ended with an –
ing
, we were doing it: kissing, licking, sucking, teasing, pleasing, nibbling, groping, tasting, sweating, pulling, and pushing. We were fucking it up.
 
 
At 9
A.M.
Paige's phone woke us. It was her friend Toni's husband, calling from down the street. Paige forgot that she had agreed to keep the twins until Sunday so that Toni and Marcus could attend a function in West Palm Beach.
After tearing down the
WAY TO GO THEO
banner, Paige met Marcus outside, talked a bit, said good-bye, then brought the boys in. She did a great job keeping us separated. The twins were in the living room and I, like a prisoner, was locked in the bedroom. Her plan was to take them out for pizza so that I could leave the house without being seen. However, when she went to take the clothes out of the dryer, in ran Dev or Kev—I couldn't tell them apart.
Not expecting to see anyone, especially in Auntie Paige's bed, he took a deep breath. “Hey! I didn't know you was in here.” He walked over to the bed. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, li'l man.” I held out my hand to him. “What's happening?”
“I remember your name.” He slapped my hand hard. “You're Theo.”
“You're right.”
He looked at my legs. “Are you taller than a giraffe?”
“Well, I've never stood next to one, but I don't think so.”
“Why are you in here?” He continued, “Did you sleep here?”
“Um.” I wasn't prepared for his interrogation. “Yeah, but I slept in the living room.”
“Then why aren't you in the living room now?”
“I got up when you guys came, so that you could play out there.”
“Kevin,” he yelled. “Kevin, guess who's here?”
Before Kev could make it down the hall, Paige sprung in and struck like lightning. “Oh my God.” She looked like she had died and gone to a place worse than hell. She yelled, “Devin, what are you doing in here?”
“I was looking for the Gameboy.”
Her hands rushed to her head. “I keep your things in the other room.” She tried not to sound too mad at him. “Aren't you supposed to knock when a door is closed?”
“Yes.” He pouted then hung his head sadly. “I'm sorry.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me. “It's cool.”
“Theooooo,” Kev screamed as he ran into the room and jumped into the bed. “Come play Playstation with us.”
“Yeah.” Dev's spirit was back up. “Come on.”
“I need you guys back into the living room.” Paige pointed out the door and as they left the room, she whispered, “You have to go.”
“They've already seen me.” I walked over to her. “I'll play with them. It'll keep them out of your way while you work around the house.”
“They talk a lot.”
“I don't mind. They can talk to me.”
“I don't mean to you.” She was still upset. “They talk. They tell their parents everything.” She was nervous. “Theo, we can't do things like this.”
“Things like what?”
“Like us being together in front of people.”
I chuckled. “They're only kids.”
“Yeah, and they know that you're my student.”
I spoke matter-of-factly. “I'm also eighteen.”
“Big deal!” She huffed. “You can vote!”
“Fuck it.” I was getting mad. “I'll leave.”
“I'm sorry.” She sighed before she spoke again. “I shouldn't have said that.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I just don't know if it's wise to have you stay.”
“Then I'll go,” I said.
“No.” She smiled timidly. “Stay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She blushed. “I guess I can use some help around here today.”
I bent down to her lips. “Oh, and by the way,” I kissed her tenderly, “voting
is
a big deal, especially in the state of Florida.”
BOOK: Fly on the Wall
2.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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