Life Without Hope (8 page)

his short cropped hair. “Get some rest, I’ll have breakfast waiting

for you when you wake in the morning.”

He just stared at something in the window. Something only he

could see. I recognized the hur t on that man’s face, the way only a

woman can. Barefooted, I padded across the shag carpeting and

fixed myself a drink. He turned and looked at me annoyingly.

“
Didn’t you hear what I just said, girl?” His voice was slightly

slurred. I ignored him and bent down to retrieve a piece of ice that

I intentionally dropped to the floor. I flirted just to get his atten-

tion, to see his reaction. Ever since we met, he treated me like his

little sister. The man never paid the slightest bit of attention to

me. I wondered if there was such a thing as a gay thug. I sat down

right in front of him, crossed my legs ladylike and took a swig of

my drink. It burned in a nice way. Quiet engulfed us like a gentle

storm. I was lost for words.

What am I doing?

I continued to ask

myself.

“
So what are you going to do when you get to Tallahassee?” I

asked.

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“
I dunno … I dunno …” he shook his head somberly. “Maybe

find a job and save up some money to go to night school, get me

a lawyer.”

“
Yeah, that would be a good idea. You could use a good

lawyer, because you damn sure know how to find trouble. You are

a jinxy-ass man.” With that, he erupted in hilarious laughter, full

and vibrant. The kind of hearty laughter that would stand out in

a room full of people, loud and jovial. It reminded me of Eddie

Murphy’s singsong cackle. Masculine and strong, I couldn’t help

but smile, too as tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued to

laugh. I poured myself another drink, a nightcap I told myself. I

already had a buzz. I took a sip and raised up to stand, I slightly

staggered but he did not notice. “I’m going to get some rest.

Check out time is 11 o’clock and it’s just about 4 o’clock.” He just

looked at me, his ebony eyes opaque slants, eyes that I couldn’t

read. He stood. His bronze body was sculpted like one of them

African statues of a warrior. His stomach was chiseled. His brawny

chest was big and hairy. He wore a large platinum chain.

The light from the swimming pool shimmered off our bodies.

I bit down on my bottom lip as he walked toward me. No one can

convince me that a man and a woman, in the solitude of the night,

confronted by their riveting intimacy, do not produce a kind of

celestial energy that holds them bound to the laws of nature. It’s

fervid heat of unquenched passion. I felt my body tingling as if I

were on fire. I knew that if he touched me we would both burn in

a fahrenheit of passion. The Hennessy, mingled with his manly

scent, was like an aphrodisiac to my feminine loins.

“
Hope I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through. I

can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, and to be truthful

with you, I’m really not a …not a …” he stammered and for some

reason I felt my body leaning toward him like how gravity pulls.

“
I’m really not a jinx,” he said awkwardly. This time I burst

out in laughter spraying his face with spittle. For some reason, I

was feeling giddy. I wiped his face with an affectionate hand. He

kissed my fingers and then pecked me on the forehead like I was

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his little sister and gently pushed my shoulders.

“
Get some sleep Shouty, I’ll wake you in the morning,” he

said, as he smiled displaying that dimple. Just as he was about to

turn away, I flung my arms around him, lassoing his neck, kissing

him fully. At first he did not respond. So I kissed him with every-

thing I had. I grinded my torso against his manhood and then I

felt him respond as his hands went under my nightie palming my

ass. The fire was ignited. The torrid passion of flames roared. His

lips found their way to my neck as his hands pulled my gown

down exposing my breasts. My nipples were erect. He squeezed

and sucked them greedily. I moaned. I could feel his stiff erection

running down my thigh. His lips and tongue trailed my flesh,

licking me like I was sweet molasses. I was moist and getting wet-

ter with every touch. Then something panged in me. This was not

right. Through the fog of alcohol and fervid lust, clarity began to

crystallize.

This is not right! What am I doing? What am I doing?

I

thought to myself, finally I shouted, “Stop!” I placed my hand on

his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he just kept pulling

on my panties, tugging.

“
No, please!” I begged. It was as if I awakened something dor-

mant in this man. Something bestial. He was not listening to me.

He had my panties around my thighs and then pushed me against

the dresser, pinning me there. I felt my panties being torn. There

is a name for this and I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

In one quick motion he slid out of his pants. His erection was

enormous and crooked, leaning to one side. It felt like he carried

me on it as I was being picked up and taken to the bed.

“
No,” I whimpered, but even to me it sounded like “yes” and

I wasn’t putting up much of a fight. Even as he climbed in between

my legs placing on a condom, my futile resistance seemed to only

excite and arouse him more. “Noooo …” My words were silenced

with his kisses. He was in between my legs and his touch was as

gentle as a feather. I was still saying “no” as he entered me slowly.

The pain was excruciating. I never knew that hurt could feel so

good.

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“
Hope,” he called my name like I was his goddess. With that,

my legs spread and invited him into my kingdom–open sesame.

“
Hope, I just want to make love to you.” His words a murmur

against my hot flesh as I moaned out loud in ecstasy. Slow and

passionate were his loving strokes. He has not entered me fully as

if to see if my body could withstand the length of his manhood.

His short strokes were driving me crazy.

“
Hope, do you like this?” He eased deeper inside of me.

“
Yes! Yes! Yes!” I lamented praising Jesus, cursing out God as I

road the ebb and flow of the torrent tide of his skillful lovemak-

ing. He thrust deeper, testing my womanhood. I felt him going

where no man had ever gone before, impaling what felt like my

chest cavity. His strokes, even tempered, like he was measuring

just how to love my body. As he reached his destination, I felt my

body shake and shiver in uncontrollable convulsions that sent me

into fits. I was out of control as Life road my body like I was a wild

stallion and he was a Black cowboy. I had an orgasm that made me

scream. The whole time his lovemaking never stopped. He

devoured my body like lovemaking was an art to be crafted and

practiced solely on me. Twenty or thirty short strokes and then

one deep stroke. Ten short strokes and then one painfully deep

long one, and still he was not even halfway inside of me. I reached

another orgasm with one of his deep stroke maneuvers as my fin-

gers clawed his back. He spread my legs wider grabbing my ass,

pushing deeper inside of me causing the throes of desire to

explode. Showing me yet another facet of my sexual identity that

I did not know existed. “Ohmygod!” I moaned in ecstasy. He

stroked me with a rhythm so intense that our bodies were saturat-

ed with sweat.

Over an hour had passed when he grabbed one of my legs and

held it high in the air asking, “Hope, do you like this?” His raspy

voice breathed on my erect nipples. Each part of my body that he

touched, he made love to as if his only mission were to please me.

I could not talk, I was in another zone. I was about to reach anoth-

er orgasm, that one was being summoned from somewhere deep

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within me and caused my head to thrash back and forth. Life was

driving me up the wall. Then suddenly he stopped … labored

breathing echoed like two fighters engaged in battle, damn, just as

I was on the brink of another orgasm.

Slowly, he eased off of me, his tongue making hot trails on my

breasts as he pulled out of me. He sucked on my body, loud, with

slurping sounds that teased and tingled me with ecstasy. Lower

and lower his hand went. He stuck a finger inside of me, then two,

which stirred my passion. His tongue traced my navel … my

pubic area … my thighs. I was pulling my hair out. I had never

had a man go down on me before.

“
Ooh shit! What … ah … are you doing?” The timbre of my

voice broke. He had taken so much from me, yet giving too much.

His deft tongue molested my clitoris, sucking on it like it was the

sweetest candy in the world.

“
Hope, do you like this?” I just nodded my head, and for the

first time, I tried to scoot toward the headboard, away from him.

This was the best torture that any woman could endure.

“
Hope.”

“
Ye … ye … yessss!”

“
I’m cheating …” lick, lick, lick, lick, “… it takes a thousand

strokes to please a Black woman.” With that he spread my lips and

buried his tongue inside of me. His tongue acted like it had a

license to seduce me. He drove it down south licking my ass. After

about another hour of him loving me, I thought I was going to cry

from ecstasy. I had never been made love to like that before. I

reached yet another orgasm. We broke the record for the number

of orgasms I have had in a single night. We changed positions. He

placed me on my stomach and put pillows underneath me and

took me from the back. This was the most painful position. It felt

like he was stretching the elastic out of my stuff. I tried to squirm

away as his once gentle loving became brutally rough. Over and

over he thrust deeper and deeper. I cried out in pain. It only

seemed to increase his lust. He was past the thousand strokes of

loving me. Finally, his body jerked and shivered, saliva dribbled

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from his mouth onto my back as he came inside of me. Satisfied,

he keeled over off me onto the bed, panting, I was exhausted.

Perspiration glistened off of my body. I was lying in a puddle of

our love juices too tired to move.

Predawn had peeked over the starry horizon. Everything

looked murky, like a mirage. It was hard to tell if I was awake or

asleep. I was in a sexual daze. I touched myself. My coochie was

swollen and sore. This man beat it to death. I watched as Life

removed the torn rubber from his still erect penis. I couldn’t help

thinking, every woman should try a little thug love in her life.

Nude, except for the one sock he had on, I watched Life walk