The Heart of Revenge (11 page)

“What things?” Mom was curious as to what was
in the bag. We all knew she wasn’t particularly fond of Vance
always spending his money, sometimes all his money on the youths in
the youth club.

“Mi buy some notebooks and do twelve HYC cap
to give away at meeting Sunday.”

“You deaf to stop use your little money on
that club. All of them little thieving boys and force-ripe little
gal that mi see going to meeting not turning out to nothing good.”
That was the loudest Mom’s soft voice spoke all day. Vance walked
over to the fridge, opened the freezer door, looked at the box of
ice cream, opened it and instantly asked in shock, at the top of
his voice,

“Is who eat out the ice cream so?”

He looked into the ice-cream box again, then
said with unbending certainty, “Is Pinky!”

“Why everything everybody love blame Pinky?”
Daddy asked. “Pinky don't trouble nothing man. If a pin move in
here everybody jump on the girl name.”

Vance’s muddy hand snatched the box out the
fridge in one brisk haul, opened it wide and tilted it to Daddy, so
he could see into it.

“Daddy look, look here, who else in the house
would’ve do the ice-cream so awful? Look how she walla-walla inna
it like she’s a hog. Kill mi dead, is gwabaliscious Pinky do
it.”

“Can be anybody else,” Daddy re-adjusted in
the chair, scratched his knee, pulling the leg of his pants up and
down to expose his cream and blue diamond socks. “Good gracious
man! You acting like nobody else don’t have mouth and belly in the
house.”

“Daddy you seeing what mi showing you?”

“Of course mi seeing, after mi not Ray
Charles.”

“You see how the hole them deep that dig down
in the ice-cream? Is Pinky alone deal with ice-cream like so, so
bad ... Everybody else just skim the top and scoop it up, but when
she go in it, mi don't know why she have to massa-claw and dig-dig
it up so much for. Look how the ice-cream look sawka-sawka.” Vance
was one slow to anger but obviously his frustration was swelling
into it. He continued, “A bet that if mi pee-pee in one soda bottle
now and leave it to cool in the fridge Pinky drink it off before
daylight. Bet?”

Mom fanned her hand at Vance and said,

“Lock up the box and put back the cream in
the fridge man. What you gone do, send Pinky go prison for it? You
never see her go in there, so you can’t blame her.” She stopped
talking, turned her back to him then added, “What if somebody in
the house eat little of the ice-cream? Hsst.”

“Is little that?” Wide-eyed, Vance had a look
of complete and utter shock. His expression changed to one of
ah-ah!-I-figured-it-out, as he asked, “So is you eat it out then
Mommy, and you playing genial?”

“Lord, you must be Frighten-Friday for the
little children them and they not going nowhere in life. Hsst.”

“How you can say that? You don’t even know
one of them and you judging the youths.”

“Mi don’t have to know none of them. All of
them is criminal, all the smallest one wearing Clarks, you know in
my time police use to harass street boys wearing Clarks, or natty
dread.”

“Times change. Fashion is not a crime
now.”

“Hsst. You wasting your time and your money
with all them board-head children and you don't have anything for
yourself yet. Help yourself. That’s what you must do with your
money.”

“Mi suppose to die Christmas, What mi need to
have? ... House?”

Mom went as silent as a gray wall.

Vance looked down the hallway, marched
towards Pinky’s room, hands still muddy, angered. He chewed on his
lips and grumbled from a place in his heart where hurtful words
come first, foolish action second and regret comes after.

“Watch mi and the one Pinky!”

by: Vybz

I had her open in the warehouse. Her scent
best described as - sexified.

“You smell so good. I could just ... could
just ... Just ... Eat you.”

And I would. Nastily. Sloppily. Wet and
noisy. You like that?

Her soft peachy color panty tightly squeezed
her fleshy vagina into a mouth-watering plump. Her panty was made
of a see-through sheer material. At the front was a peach mesh and
running up the front was a thin white lace. Victoria Secret written
in white straight around in the thin elastic waistband. From the
manner in which her panty was straining and buffed high, it looked
as if she had stuffed Blue Mountain in her panty. I could see her
luscious chocolate mountain of flesh clearly through her peach mesh
and lace. No hair. My face alighted. A clean, well-shaved pussy.
The tip of my cock was wet. It was steel stiff, hard enough to be
used as a bat and break someone’s leg. Her luring scent lingered
and flavoured between her crotch with a pure irresistible eroticism
that kept pulling my face and tongue closer, and closer, down into
her captivating crotch, between her legs, my face, so close, my
nose, so close, if I barely breathe, she will feel the tingles in
my breath, breathing on her trembling inner thighs, sending shivers
through her whole body. I took a long, deep, satisfying inhale, the
whiff, perfectly fresh, mouth-wateringly suckable, my pink tongue
muscled up and stiff, ready, dying to taste her well-kept pussy.
Slide my wet tongue inside her warm waiting slit. Lick her, lick
her in-between. Kiss on it. Suck on her sweet sugary pussy till she
cums in my mouth.

It had no smell of sweat - yet. Intoxicated
by the ambience of her lovely scent, I noisily sniffed in her scent
again, greedily pushing my nose against her, held my breath, trying
to keep her marvellousness inside me, breathed out harshly, pouring
my hot breath out like a dragon. It steamed out my nose and
pattered insensitively against her legs, she quivered, just
slightly quivered. I lightly blew a soft breath on her, between her
thighs. She quivered hard. I stretched the head of my pink, stiff,
pointed, tongue towards her, towards her thigh, licked the spot,
the spot just below the foot of her panty, on the inner side of her
thigh, flicked it fluidly, slithered it freely on her thigh, my
lips clasped around the flesh of her thigh, just barely licking and
sucking so close to her sweetest spot. She went fucking mad, the
feeling of me passionately sucking close to her pussy was sending
her up the wall. She grabbed my head. Both hands. Terrified, can’t
withstand to ever having me touch her right now. She’s too aroused.
Too turned on. Too horny. Wanting me to touch her, suck her, but
can’t stand it, her legs can’t stand straight, she can't stand
another touch. I had to touch her, I had to suck. I squeezed her
breasts, wholesomely sucked up the flesh of her thigh into my
gifted mouth. Wetting the light baby hair on her inner thigh with
my sloppy mouth. The wet spot became more sensitive than the rest
of her thigh, she could feel where it was wet, it felt cooler, more
tingly, more sensitive, making her legs jitter. Imagine the feeling
she must be feeling if her whole body is shaking, so hard, so hard,
whenever my breath blows onto the wet spot on her thigh. She tried
not to shake, but she can’t, she feels my every breath on the wet
spot of her sensitive inner thigh, she shook like crazy. The baby
hair on her leg stood stiff, I sucked up her thigh again, wetting
her thigh. My warm mouth, wetting the light baby hair on her skin.
Blew on it softly. My mouth went closer to her pussy, sucked her
thigh up in my mouth, all the way up, mid-way my tongue, the brim
of my lip curled backward, bracing against the elastic of her
panty’s leg, lightly touching the crevice of her thigh and sacred
flesh, deep-sucking her, so suckingly, my cheeks sunk into two deep
dimples, my tongue working smoothly, making flowy waves over her
skin as I tongue kissed her thigh, closing my eyes, humming in
horny delight into her flesh, the vibration of my base voice
humming into her thigh sent thrills up her pussy and twisted her
spine. She rose her hips, held my head steady and tried to feed her
pussy into my face, my mouth, force her pussy down on my warm
lengthy tongue, sit on it, ride it. Her juices drizzled down,
seeping to the edges of her horny orifice, wetting the walls of her
soft pink lips.

Imagine the feeling.

And then I realised I hadn’t even touched her
pussy yet.

by: Vance Lexings

You ever hear ’bout vex? Jah know, is because
you don’t know how it hurt mi bad. Just burning mi and eating up mi
brain, if mi don’t tackle Pinky ’bout how she dig-up the ice-cream,
mi can't cool off. And how she one manage to eat off almost half of
the three gallon cream? Her belly must cut her today. Mi mind can’t
settle down. Not even wash mi don’t wash off mi hands, is straight
to Pinky room mi march, elbowed her door three times, three loud
bangs, ‘BOOP! BOOP! BOOP!’ like mi a landlord and she owe mi seven
months’ rent. A little of the mud flashed from my hand, splashed
onto her white door. She didn’t open the door quickly. I couldn’t
wait, before it was opened I yelled through the closed door,

“WANGA GUT Pinky! You awful eeh gal! ...”
Mommy hates when I use the Patois word, ‘nyam’ instead of the
English word, ‘eat’, as if it is not just a Jamaican word for eat,
or as if it is a badword, but to how mi head on fire, is that word
mi use to tell Pinky mi mind, ‘nyam’. Mi keep on cursing, “You one
sit down and nyam off nearly gallon and a half of the cream, mi
hope is so-so fart you fart up yourself in the wedding later. Pure
fart.” Mi don’t like wish bad on people, but Pinky really got on
the tip of mi nerves, God know. Mi continue to tell her anything
that came to my mouth, “Mi hope you don’t stop fart till you batty
bust! SPLIT UP INNA TWO! You too craven man!”

The door still wasn’t opened and I could
swear I heard her laughing away inside. I elbowed the door again,
one knock, ‘BOOP!’ pure mud fly on the door. Mi start to curse
again, “You love your belly too much. You not going to stop nyam
out people things out the fridge till you nyam poison. Watch if mi
not going to set rat poison with icing ontop inside there for you.
Make it bang your rass belly.” I loved Pinky but right now I just
had to tell her what was on my mind and how I felt. It really hurt
mi star, because mi done plan everything for the youth club and
Pinky not even look like is taste she taste little of the ice-cream
is wad she wad her rass belly with the cream. I continued to fume,
“A bet once mi pretty up the rat poison you thief it out. And nyam
it off. Watch if you not going to swell up and stretch out.”

Pinky didn’t sound peaceful when she yelled
back from inside her room,

"You! You mustn’t call nobody craven, who
craven like you? And when you going to no little party or nine
night you walk with your pickle-pepper in hitch up inside of your
back-pocket. Just waiting on the people them free food.” I heard a
break of silence then she belled out as if angry,"You must stop
walk with pickle pepper in your back pocket man!”

She stepped on my corn, I grew angry, shouted
loud “CRAVEN GAL! You too craven for gal.”

It’s not wicked mi wicked why mi calling mi
sister craven, but anybody who swallow down one small nail in their
food when they eating, don’t deserve to pass it out easy, they
deserve to pee-pee it out and have pure problem to pee-pee it out,
because is just raw-chaw cravenness that. Pinky never chewing her
food properly yet, just cut and swallow. Yes, Pinky swallow one
small nail in her food already.

“You see when mi nyam out nothing?” She swung
the door open, looked at me, spoke slower and dipped her voice a
little lower, asking “You not getting ready? ... You come to mi
room with your mud-up hands and beating down people door like the
house burning down. The house a burn down?” A smirk stretched her
lips towards her ears. I could sense that she was guilty. She
almost wanted to laugh, I could see the muscles flinching at the
corner of her lips in her big red face, fighting to hold back her
giggles, she smiled while saying, “Mi can nyam all the ice-cream mi
feel like, mi not farting down nowhere, after mi not
lactose-intolerant or have weak bowels.” It sounded funny, but mi
never laugh. Mi vex till mi want bust. She couldn’t hold down the
laugh anymore, she burst out into a big hell of a down-town laugh,
with one hand patting her thigh. From that gesture, nobody can’t
tell me is not Pinky nyam out the ice cream, all if God come off
the cross today and tell mi is not Pinky, mi still won’t believe.
She too terrible man, mi eyes beaming anger into hers, red like
blood and she still laughing and said. “And even if mi belly take
mi today, whole heap a toilet tissue in the bathroom, so what? Mi
not afraid of running belly.”

“Is you nyam out the rass cream enuh. Playing
like you innocent. YOU! You same one nyam it out.” Pinky patted her
bosom slowly, one time, while dragging out her reply,

“Miiii? ... Mi? Poor mi ... Lightning strike
mi right here so, mi don’t touch a thing darling dear. Check
again.” She turned her back and walked off leave mi fuming, rolling
her ass to her bed,

“Is you! Who else would’ve dig, dig-up the
ice-cream so? Eeeh?” The culprit sucked her teeth disregarding my
accusation. It didn’t seem to get to her one bit. It was then I
realised maybe it really wasn’t she. Who then? Mommy? Pinky didn’t
reach her bed yet,

“Hsst. Listen to mi nuh little boy, don’t
draw mi tongue, you hear mi. Is that you really come bother mi
peace ’bout? Before you go bathe.” She reached her bed and before
sitting said, “So what you gone do if is mi eat it? Beat mi? ... Is
that you come in here to do? See mi here. Come beat.” She touched
into her chest showing me where she is then began bending to sit on
the bed. “Who you suppose to fight you not fighting. Why you never
stab up Beanie when you take out the kitchen knife and go look for
him? Is mi you have strength for?” She sat beside a small pile of
colourful clothes cluttered on the bed, dragged a batty-rider jeans
shorts from under her legs that squeezed her under her thigh. She
winced, and wrinkled her face like a raisin while dragging it out,
tossed it close to the messy pile. I glared, pressed my fingers in
my palm, sunk them pretending I was squeezing Pinky’s neck for
eating out the youths’ ice-cream. My fingers felt a bit stiff from
the mud beginning to dry and harden around them. Her face got
lighter and boastfully bragged,