The Fight Within (50 page)

Starry eyed, she looked up at him. His rugged, handsome face drew her in, and his dick sealed her fate.

“Ahhhh…Ahhhh!”

She was rendered speechless when her body convulsed and rained down on the man. He looked away from her, watched her pour her appreciation upon him, and his lips kinked in a satisfied smile. Before she was finished, the man lay back down atop her, holding her down by the shoulders and pounding hard and steady for dear life.

“Uh!Uh!Uh!” She could feel the warm breath from his mouth as he moved his ass up and down, tearing her up and putting her back together stronger and better than before. “Uhhhh!”

…He poured inside of her.

Filled her with liquid warmth, over and over again. She latched tight to his slick frame, her body covered in perspiration, and ran her lips up and down the side of his face as he simply lay there with his eyes closed. His weight, his hold of her, comforted her. He looked so damn peaceful, she almost didn’t want to move, lest she disturb the beautiful sleeping brute. After a few moments, Sean’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted himself slightly from her body. Grabbing the base of his cock, he slowly slid out of her, then took her hand to help her off the floor. Without another word, he was on his feet, starting the shower.

They said nothing to one another, but her pussy was talking a mile a minute. The damn thing throbbed and pulsated, as if the man were still inside of her. She loved it, the way he’d push her open with his girth and length, leave his mark, have her walking a bit slower for the first hour or two after he was done with her, turned her loose…

He stepped inside the shower. When the water hit his hair, the strands darkened, fell over his face. He swiped the rich, luscious locks away with his hands.

“Get in here with me,” he said around a smile as he massaged his scalp.

“You want some shampoo? What are you doing, co-washing?” she joked. From the linen closet, she removed a half empty bottle of Pantene.

“What’s co-washing?” he asked as he turned from side to side, continuing his routine. “It sounds like something people do when two people or more wash someone’s hair at the same time.”

“Sean, no!” She chuckled. “Co-washing is when you use only conditioner to wash your hair at various times. It is less drying for African American hair.”

“Ahhh, okay.” He nodded.

She stepped inside of the shower with him, handed him the bottle of shampoo, then reached for a small bottle of mango-melon scented body wash. As she began to lather up, she felt a strong grip on her, pulling her. The shower water suddenly stopped, and she found herself on her knees, on all fours.

“Ahhh!”

She gripped the edge of the tub as he mounted her from behind, elated and shocked all at once.

“Uhhh! Uhhhh!”

Without ceremony, he thrust inside her, taking her, making her body rock with pleasure. Wrapping his arm around her, he cupped her shoulder and forced her to take all of his dick. She screamed out, over and over.

“Ahhh! Sean! Shit!”

“Why don’t you co-wash this cock with your pussy juice?! Uhhhh!”

She writhed about, drifting on the verge of an orgasm that refused to relinquish it’s hold upon her. Her pleasure climbed and climbed up an invisible mountain, almost bursting like fireworks. Swift, sudden…ruthless.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Her eyes watered as she screamed out, her temple shaking in uncontrollable ways.

She’d never cum that fast before in her life. It happened so suddenly, taking her by surprise, and his words turned her the hell on. Yet the man kept on relentless after her orgasm, continued to slam into her ass. She observed his warped reflection in the bathtub fixtures, dazed…mesmerized.

“Mmmm, yessss!”

Soon, he shot within her, once again filling her with his heated delight. In no time flat, he was back on his feet and restarted the water. He took the shampoo and went to town on his tresses, even humming a song or two.

“Sean,” she said sternly, running her hand along her slightly swollen pussy lips…

Damn, it hurt so good…

“Yeah?”

“How the hell are you going to get me on the ground in the shower, have sex with me, then go on about your night as if nothing happened?” She chuckled. “Your ass is crazy.”

“But was it good?” He grinned as he closed his eyes and lathered up.

“You know that it was…”

“Then stop your hollering and hand me some soap.”

“You don’t want this, it’s mango and…” she looked at the bottle once more to jog her memory, “…mango-melon.”

“I don’t give uh shit! I’m going to be sleeping with you tonight. It’s not like my masculinity is in question. Besides, that shit smells good!” He snatched the bottle out of her grip, eliciting a burst of laughter and a playful slap against his wet back.

“Ahhh! That hurt!” he screamed out, really laying it on thick.

“Deal with it.” She then pinched his tight, nice ass, startling him.

“You just treat me like a piece of meat!” He pretended to sob, bursting in tears. “You’re just using me for my body! I feel so dirty!”

Laughing, she ushered him out of the way, wanting to get the water all over her skin before sudsing up, gathering a good lather. A few seconds later, they were singing a duet. Sean held his bottle of shampoo and she held the mango-melon soap as makeshift microphones while they crooned an off-key version of House of Pain’s, ‘Jump Around.’

“…I came to get down! I came to get down! So get out cha seats and jump around! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!”

Silly couple that they were, they jumped up and down in the air, causing the water to splash about and under their leaping feet. Her heart was singing! Her soul was singing, and her body felt oh so grateful!

So good to laugh, cry, make love…to feel protected all at once.
The man took her away from her broken heart, made the shit right. She loved him more and more as each minute passed, and her heart swelled with pride, knowing that he was her man, and she could trust him, depend on him.

She was fresh.

She was clean…

Clean…

C
 – Clear… she could think so clearly now.

L
 – Living… She was living the life she deserved!

E
 – Energized… No more restlessness; it was time to embrace life to the fullest, the hell with what everyone else said.

A
 – Adored… The man would move mountains for her, pick them up and knock those rocky bastards right out of her way.

N
 – New… A new day, a new beginning…

…A new Treasure was found within…

‡

Dear Mama…

T
reasure sat at
her computer and looked at those two words on the screen. She’d sat down to draft a letter and mail it to the woman. Still in the formulation process, she took countless pauses and many gulps of wine to prepare her for the proceedings. Yes, proceedings. It was that sort of farewell party. Over the last few days, she’d had a chance to truly sit down and contemplate her choices.

Choices. Those little and big things we make that affect our life forever…

Sliding one leg under her behind on the chair, she tapped against the keyboard, a sense of purpose about her and a brave heart beating within her chest.

Dear Mama,

Over the course of our lives, I have come to the realization that almost everything in our relationship that was problematic, from my adulthood forward, was my fault. You see, I never accepted you for who and what you were. That wasn’t your fault; it was mine. I attempted to make dead grass grow.

Strived for bread without yeast to rise…

Willed clouds that were full of rain to not storm down upon me…

That’s the thing about rain clouds, Mama. They are just doing as they were designed to do. Their intention is non-existent, for storm clouds do not make choices, but their gushing affects everyone that they fall upon. One thing about rain clouds though is that they do have a positive purpose, too. They water the Earth, feed the sea and help take care of thirst for the world’s people. Your rain, however, is acidic, and no amount of filtering, hoping, and praying will make it any less bearable. I had to divorce Jackson for many reasons, but it all stemmed from a lack of trust that could never be recovered. Unfortunately, I have to do the same with you. Mama, this is our divorce decree.

This last situation with you let me know without a shadow of a doubt that it was time to cut you loose. I understand now that I can love you without subjecting myself to your continuous abuse. Yes, Mama, you are an abuser. You abuse the people that love you, and covet the people that hate you. I am finished trying to understand your mentality, but one thing remained consistent with you—your need to hurt others. I can’t be your punching bag any longer. I will not sustain one more blow from you. The problem is that I stood in your way, and allowed you to beat the daylights out of me with your harsh, cruel words. I’m not certain why you named me Treasure, Mama. You don’t treasure me.

You don’t treasure anyone. I grew up hating my name because it was unusual, and I wanted a name that helped me blend in with the crowd. Now, I love my name and don’t need anyone else to validate me. I treasure my OWN self. I nurture my OWN self, regardless of who is around.

Speaking of who is around, I see that Jackson made you aware that I am in a relationship. Once again, you had no issue doing his dirty work. I know why now, Mama, because Jackson is a source of pain for me, and you reap emotional benefits from me hurting. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but your actions didn’t hurt me, Mama. They only helped me see what needed to be done.

The things you said to my boyfriend on the phone prove once again that you have little respect for anyone, and you simply desire to tear people down. It was cruel, racist and plain ugly. I have neither room nor time for any more ugliness in my life, Mama. The world is full of ugliness. You can turn on the television and see it on a daily basis. I am quite busy. I am raising two children—your grandchildren, who you barely acknowledge. I have a demanding profession and other obligations that you know nothing about. You may have time for this foolishness, but I certainly do not.

My desire for you, Mama, is to use this free time you seem to have an ample supply of, and take a look at yourself. It’s never too late. But it is too late for me to stand there and try to help you through the process. I’m checking out, leaving the boxing ring. You’ve punched me so hard this last time, you must’ve set me straight, knocked some sense into me, brought me back into the reality of the situation. I never struck you back, neither literally nor figuratively, but I must strike back now Mama, I must defend myself for my own sanity and dignity.

So to you, I say goodbye. You won’t hear from me, and I will not be stopping by any more. Mama, you will always have a daughter that loves you; you just will not have one that is actively a part of your life. You’ve made a choice, and now I’ve made mine.