Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE) (4 page)

"Well what you gonna do in the meantime? Since that nigga lied and fronted, making you think it was okay to quit your job, you can't simply sit on yo ass and wish those bills away...and you damn sure ain't going back to that raggedy ass school."

I know that's right.

Sighing, Keisha agreed, "I got to get me another job."

****

"Y
ou have the job," the blonde secretary told her.

Holding in a sigh of relief, Keisha felt the tension flow from her body.

She had been looking for a job as a substitute teacher for over a week. She had gotten several call backs for possible working dates, but she really was looking for something more long term.

Luckily for her, a vacancy had opened up at a school that was several blocks from her house, still on the good side of Chicago.

The school had taken the first applicant that could fill the emergency opening, which so happened to be Keisha. But it was funny; someone must not have read the name on the application, because when she walked through the door, the white interviewee's looked shocked.

They almost looked as if they wanted to instantly turn her away, but once she started speaking and told them about her credentials they relaxed...just a little bit.

"You start as soon as tomorrow," the woman told her, giving her all the details about taking over the departing teacher's study guides and notes.

"That's wonderful," Keisha said rising to her feet after the woman was done.

She needed to get back to her car, where her little boys were waiting. Keisha had already been in the school building for about forty-five minutes. That was long enough for the boys to start cutting up and acting a fool.

She had left them her pc tablet that she had loaded up with games to play with. So they at least had something to keep them occupied, but she knew it would be only a matter of time before they started arguing over that.

"Oh and Keisha," the secretary said, pronouncing her name like 'Kesha'.  In a rush to get back to her babies, Keisha did not feel like bothering with correcting the woman.

Putting on a fake smile at the doorway, she asked pleasantly, "Yes?"

The woman looked at her curly hair for a moment, which was in its natural state as usual, before saying with a weak smile, "Maybe you'd like to try a different hairstyle."

****

"C
an you believe the white bitch told me I needed to straighten my hair?" Keisha asked in disbelief.

"Mmm mmm mmmm," came her mother's reply through the cell phone, "white folks ain't happy if yo hair is nappy."

Sitting in her car with her two children outside a Rite Aid, Keisha was debating on whether or not to get a relaxer. Remembering how her hair used to behave when her mother made her wear it when she was younger, shedding and falling out all the time, she was reluctant to go through with the process.

"But you gotta do what you gotta do," said momma Joy. "Those bills ain't gone get paid by frontin ass niggas and a big ass planted at home on the couch, gettin fatter."

"You right momma," Keisha agreed, nodding her head, "you right." She let out a sigh. "Let me go on up in here and get the shit then. If I'm going to get one, I'll do it myself instead of going to the shop and letting one of them bitches fuck up my head."

"Go on girl, with yo bad self," her momma encouraged. "I'll talk to you later baby...love you...and tell my grandbabies I love them too."

"I will," Keisha assured her. "Bye momma, love you."

"Bye suga."

****

"W
atch what you doing Jamal!" Keisha half-yelled to her eldest while she stood bent over the sink with her eyes tightly shut, the sound of water in her ears.

The poor baby had almost put relaxer into her eyes.

She was having him help her wash off the residue of the chemicals before she put the neutralizing shampoo in. Not knowing any better, he had wiped his hands over his mother's eyes while scrubbing at the relaxer in her hair. She was lucky that she had closed them right before he put his little hands in her face.

"I'm sorry momma," Jamal apologized. "I can't see you down there." The small boy stood propped on a stool beside his mother.

"Just be careful," Keisha said, softening her tone. She hadn't meant to snap on the poor thing.

She heard Lamar laugh somewhere behind her. "Ha-ha, Jamal getting in trouble," he teased.

"Shut up Lamar!" Jamal snapped.

"Both of y'all be quiet!" Keisha demanded, concerned about her head. Let the two little niggas fight when she wasn't in danger of burning out her scalp. Her head had been stinging before she had rushed to the sink to get the chemicals washed out.

After her hair had been rinsed out and neutralized, she thanked her baby and went into the bathroom to get a look at her relaxed locks.

"It looks like it took good," she said with relief, running her hand through all the waves that flowed down to the middle of her back. It felt super soft and manageable. Now it would be easy to straighten.

She made a face at the mirror, tossing her wet hair about. "Telling me to straighten my hair. Well, I got something for her valleygurl lookin ass."

Later that evening, when Davonte was home from work, eating his dinner she had cooked for him, he nodded at her head, which was now wrapped in a silk scarf. "What's with that shit?"

Davonte had become overjoyed at the news that she had gotten a job and was now in a good mood. While Keisha was pleased that he was happy, she still felt slightly ill towards him for how callously he treated her during their argument they had last week.

Regardless of whether she had reacted irrationally, that was no excuse for what Demarion had did.

Tearing her eyes away from the dish she was scrubbing, Keisha asked, "What's with what?"

Davonte made a face. "That rag on yo head."

Keisha quickly told him about how the audacious secretary had the nerve to suggest she change her hairstyle.

"It makes sense," Davonte said, noisily chewing on a pork chop. "I would have suggested the same thing if I were in her position. You know that school is like ninety-nine point nine-percent white. It comes with the territory."

That was something Keisha did not want to think about because it was making her nervous. Knowing how ignorant some white kids could be, she worried that she might have to quit her new job with a quickness if any of her new students dared act racist towards her.

Getting disrespected by bad ass kids just because they had no home training was one thing, but getting disrespected by some mean-spirited, ignorant white kids who had home training, but were raised to be ignorant by their parents, was another.

"I'm just happy you did something different with your hair for once," Davonte said.

Turning back to her dishes, Keisha said softly, "Well I'm not."

Later on, while she was doing laundry, she noticed some white, crusty stains on Davonte's silk boxers, gluing the slit entrance together. Now Keisha was no fool and instantly recognized the stains for what they were.

Is this nigga jacking off at work?
she wondered.

If he was, she could hardly blame him. She hadn't been attentively lately, which she was going to have to work on. Though it puzzled her, how he could be whacking off at his job with the work environment he was in.

Maybe he does that mess in the bathroom.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the obvious cum stains, wondering if she should confront him about it.

Why bother?
she thought.
He's just going to lie anyway. And I know he can't be cheating on me with how busy he is at work, so it ain't that big of a deal.

She had to believe that.

When it was time for bed, she lay against Davonte's bare chest in her flimsy night gown, her anxiety in over drive.

"I'm sorry about how I acted last week," Davonte apologized, gently rubbing her arm, sending goose bumps along her soft skin.

Keisha looked up into his green eyes, surprised. This was the first time he had mentioned their argument.

"Really?" she asked.

Davonte nodded, kissing her softly on the cheek. "That was wrong of me to react the way I did. I was just upset that you had quit your job without telling me." He paused, his expression becoming angry. "What that nigga did was inexcusable. I need to go up there and beat the nigga's ass, but it's alright. When we got time, we'll see about filing a lawsuit."

Filled with appreciation, Keisha felt warmth flow through her stomach. Now this is how Davonte should have acted in the first place, standing up for his woman and recognizing when a wrong had been committed.

They lay in silence for several minutes before Davonte said, "Keisha."

"Hmm?"

"Can you suck my dick before we knock out?"

So this is why this nigga is acting all sweet!

It took a moment for her to push the anger away and not instantly start cursing her man out. Remembering the cum stains and her promise to try to get their intimacy back on track, she knew she should try to be reasonable with his request.

After a moment she replied, "Okay."

Davonte smiled, placing his muscled arms back behind his head against the headboard, getting mighty comfortable.

Wait a minute? I'm the one who is nervous. Shouldn't this nigga be the one giving me head?

The thought gave her brief pause. The truth was, she was so nerve-wracked about her new job, that she could not get in the mood to be pleasured. There were a lot of what ifs going through her head at that moment.

She worried about being treated like a social outcast, mistreated based on her race. She worried that Demarion might call up the school and tell vicious lies about her, getting her fired before she could get her first paycheck. And lastly, she worried about how quitting her job may end up hurting her career.

Throwing the covers down below Davonte's legs, Keisha started with tenderly kissing her husband on the neck, eliciting soft groans from his full lips. Then she slowly worked her way down to his hairless chest, licking and teasing, massaging his inner thigh at the same time.

As she made her way down her husband's abs, she could feel his big, hard dick pressing against her breasts. She watched as Davonte closed his eyes, his body shivering with anticipation when her head became leveled with the impressive tent straining against the silk underwear.

With delicate care, Keisha pulled his throbbing cock out of the slit of the boxers, followed by his large ball sack. Immediately when she saw it, she felt nausea hit her stomach.

Davonte cracked open one eye, peering down at her suspiciously. "What's wrong baby?"

Quickly shaking her head, Keisha lied, "Nothing baby, just relax."

She gripped the base of his shaft, watching his swollen head swell from the pressure. Davonte had a big, juicy dick. When they first got together it had never failed to turn her on. But lately, just looking at it made her sick.

For some reason, as she aged and grew more mature, sucking dick started to feel like a chore that was beneath her dignity. She tried very hard to not let her distaste for it show whenever he asked for it, but it was becoming difficult to keep up the charade.

I got to get into it
, she told herself.
The nigga knows I'm hatin it half the time.

As she bent forward to wrap her lips around his head, she noticed that his balls were clean shaven. The last time she remembered they had been hairier than a motha fucka. It struck her as a bit odd, but she knew he was forever scratching at his balls, so maybe this was just his way of getting relief.

She wrapped her lips around his swollen head, filling the room with a succulent slurping sound.

Davonte groaned with pleasure. "There you go gurl. Slurp that dick."

Moving her hand up his shaft, she pulled back and rolled her tongue along his swollen head, hitting the sensitive spots while stroking his fat dick. She continued this for a minute, shying away from putting her mouth back around his throbbing pole.

But Davonte knew she was cock dodging. "Come on Keisha," he groaned. "Stop playin and take that big dick down your throat."

Holding back a nasty retort, Keisha bent forward reluctantly, wrapping her lips back around the head. She begin going up and down, barely going past his head, while stroking his dick.

Davonte groaned, and moved his hands down on top of her head, his hands gripping the sides of her silk scarf.

This damn fool is gonna fuck up my wrap!

Slowly, Davonte began to guide her head, pushing it down while he humped upward into her mouth. Keisha struggled not to gag as his thrusts got deeper, fuller, the fat dick forcing her mouth wide.

Lord, this nigga is trying me, suffocating my ass.

Keisha tried to slow his momentum by firmly gripping his cock, but he continued to buck, sending the fat dick deep into her mouth. Suddenly, the anxiety of everything that was going on hit her, and she felt her stomach rebel.

Davonte jumped out of the bed, scattering like a roach hit by Raid, knocking Keisha unceremoniously to the side.

"Gurl what the fuck is wrong with you?" Davonte asked with disgust, grabbing a Kleenex off the nightstand and wiping at himself.

Unable to respond, Keisha rushed to their adjacent bathroom and began heaving into the toilet. After several minutes of this, she got up and rinsed her mouth with toothpaste and then reemerged into their bedroom.

Davonte was back in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face.

"I'm sorry Davonte," Keisha apologized softly when she had crawled back in the bed beside her husband. "I felt so anxious about tomorrow and everything that's been going on that I began to feel so sick."

And it's not like I wanted to do the shit in the first place.

For a moment, Davonte continued to stare up at the ceiling with his mask of anger...but then his handsome features softened and he took his wife up in his arms.

Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "Don't worry about it Keisha. My selfish ass should not have asked you to do that, knowing what you going through. I totally deserved that shit, getting carried away like that." He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm sorry baby."