Life Without Hope Page 6

  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

  to the window and close the blinds ending our freak show. He

  came back, sat on the bed, propped his leg up, the one with the

  sock on, and lit a cigarette. He watched me intently as he blew

  smoke right in my direction. I would have given the world just to

  have read his mind. What really goes through a man’s mind after

  a woman gives him her body? Well actually in my case he took it,

  kinda.

  For some reason, I dozed off to sleep thinking about Marcus,

  my fiancé. I was guilt ridden. He was the love of my life, but sex-

  ually, there was no comparison between he and Life. Marcus was-

  n’t into oral sex nor was he half as endowed as Life was. I went to

  sleep with my hands between my legs, thinking how that thug had

  put it on me.

  At 11 o’clock, I was awakened to the sound of the phone ring-

  ing. Disoriented, I couldn’t remember where I was. I finally

  remembered to speak. “Hello?” I was informed that it was check-

  out time. Still I could not get my bearings. I lay back down on the

  pillow. Then it all came back. I was in a hotel room with a man I

  hardly knew, he had taken my body. Oh, shit! I thought about the

  guns, the police and those evil white men that tried to abduct me.

  I sprung from the bed, my torn panties lay on the floor as a

  reminder of the conquest of my body. And Life was gone. I did

  not know if that was good or bad considering all that he took me

  through. My mind raced a mile a minute. I went into the adjoin-

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  ing room. He wasn’t there. I ran my fingers through my hair. The

  phone rang, startling me.

  “Hello?”

  “Wuz up, Shouty!” From the sound of his raspy voice, he had

  been drinking. “I got the car fixed. You ready to bounce to Tally?”

  “Yaaa!” I was excited for some reason as I answered. “I’ll be

  down in a sec.” I hung the phone up and walked over to the win-

  dow; children were playing around the pool, it was a beautiful day.

  As I took a shower, I had to admit, even though Life Thugstin was

  a thug, he handled his business. I shuddered at the thought of

  what would have happened to me if Marcus would have been

  there when the white men tried to abduct me. I r ubbed my

  swollen private thinking once again how every woman from time

  to time needs a thug in her life. Once thing for sure, once we made

  it to Tallahassee I was going to get rid of his ass like a bad habit.

  I walked out into the hotel vestibule with my luggage in hand.

  I was wearing white slacks with a pink blouse made of soft cotton.

  Life, nor my car, were anywhere in sight. I looked around, the sun

  still bright and I heard my name. Life was all the way at the end

  of the parking lot. He came strutting toward me with all new

  clothe
s on. A gold Nike sweatsuit with a brown Kangol hat and a

  pair of the new Jordans that had just come out. Once up close he

  tried to kiss me while speaking, “Hi baby!” I ducked. He reached

  for my luggage making a face, a knowing grin. I took off walking.

  I smelled his cologne.

  “I have a surprise for you.” I continued to walk. Betty was still

  nowhere in sight. I stopped, looked behind me and saw that he

  had stopped, placed my bags down and was pointing at a car. I

  knew I was right earlier, the man had been drinking. “Da–dahhh-

  hhhhh,” he droned, gesturing at the car, palms open pointing. It

  was an older model candy apple red Honda Accord with a sunroof

  and rimmed expensive tires that cost more than my old car.

  “Boy! Have you lost your damn mind? Where is my damn

  car?” I said walking up to him. Again he tried to kiss me. I moved

  out of the way.

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  “This is your car!” he beamed.

  “No it ain’t.” I scoffed. “I own a blue 1973 Ford Mustang.”

  “Not no mo, I sold it to the junkyard for $75.00.”

  “You did whatttt? I know damn well your jinxy ass ain’t sold

  my car!” I was all up in his face. His eyes darted to the ground as

  he dug into his pocket passing me my ID with the title and regis-

  tration in my name. “You went into my purse while I was asleep

  and stole my ID, sold my car and bought this car?” I asked trying

  to control my temper. My jaws were clinched so tight it felt like I

  was going to crack my teeth. He looked away. “Why?” I asked. I

  found it amazing how men could turn into little boys. He mum-

  bled something about last night, and me saving his life. I could see

  that I hurt his feelings, yet he tried to mask the pain with a facial

  expression that returned my question with,

  why can’t you accept my

  gift?

  Dope boys were notorious for buying college girls cars and

  nice things, but as I found out, it often came with a price. I was

  not trying to get involved with him, or fall into one of his traps.

  My tone softened, “You have got to take this car back, you

  shouldn’t have –”

  “Hope, there’s a lot of shit a nigga should not have done!” he

  interrupted, taking a step back from me. This was our standoff,

  but this was his world, I was just a visitor trying to get out.

  “I don’t know how I will ever be able to pay you back,” I said

  with more innocence than I had intended. He took a look at my

  body and smiled brightly.

  “You already did, last night, a brotha be loving that wild shit!”

  That was not what I wanted to hear. Then he tried to take my

  hand but I pulled away. His handsome face scowled into a look of

  confession. “Um … about last night. I did not mean for it to go

  that far.” He grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me up close

  to him. I did not know if he was going to kiss me or hit me. His

  breath was hot on my face, as hot as last night’s passion. I was

  powerless to move. A couple stared as they passed by. In the dis-

  tance I heard a fire truck. This closeness and energy from this man

  seized me completely. If he told me to go back inside the hotel and

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  take off all my clothes again so that he could make love to me, I

  probably would have. Some men possess over whelming energy

  that is just that power ful over women. Life Thugstin was one of

  those men.

  “Hope, you cannot tell me that you didn’t enjoy last night as

  much as I did.” His words seeped inside of me, nuzzling in a place

  that I wanted to keep him forbidden. I attempted to speak but the

  words just froze in my throat. I tried to look away, but his eyes

  would not let me. They pleaded for an answer, an answer that he

  and I knew the truth to. He squeezed my arm until it hurt. “I …

  I … I’m engaged to someone.” My words came out on his face and

  washed down on him. For a fleeting second, I swear I saw anger

  in his eyes. I thought for sure he was going to knock my ass down.

  He released me like I just told him I’d tested positive for some vir-

  ulent plague. He reached into his pocket and handed me the keys

  to the car. They were on the same key ring that my old keys were.

  I walked around to the driver’s side, wishing there was something

  I could say, something to comfort him. I felt like shit. As soon as

  I got in the car I noticed the bags of clothes he bought me from

  Macy’s. I saw an expensive Dooney and Burke purse, it was gor-

  geous.

  For the next half hour or so neither of us spoke, but I could

  read his thoughts. He wanted me, and it shamed him. He gam-

  bled on me and lost. I needed to speak my mind, for the longer

  we remained silent, the more pent up frustration I felt with each

  passing mile. Hell, no one told him to spend his damn money on

  me! I turned to him, “What I did last night was so wrong and I’m

  sorry. Things just got out of hand,” I said as I drove. I was so full

  of anger that I saw veins in my hands as they clinched the steering

  wheel. “I made a bad judgment … no, horrible judgment …

  twice. I’m 21 years old.” He shot me a look that said what’s that

  got to do with it. I continued, “I was not tr ying to take advantage

  of you. I promise I’ll pay you back. How about fifty dollars a week

  until I get this car paid off. Can we just be friends?”

  “Yo, check this out Shouty, all of my friends chase cats, eat shit

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  and bark at the moon,” he said so coldly that I had to turn and

  look in his direction. This was a side of him I had never seen

  before. I watched as he casually took a cassette tape out of one of

  the shopping bags and placed it into the deck. Jodeci crooned,

  begging a woman to stay for a little while. The music was very

  nice, melodic. I swayed into the rhythm of my emotions like Life

  was using that song to talk to me.

  I drove eighty five miles an hour, my mind racing, guilt rid-

  den. In History I read that lust, in the form of passion or pussy,

  had been known to start wars. As a young woman I was just begin-

  ning to learn, a lot. A man would actually go to great lengths to

  impress a woman. And I had never been sexed like that before.

  Hope, can I lick you here … touch you there … it takes a thousand

  strokes to please a Black woman,

  I remembered him telling me. I

  heard my mouth blurt out, “If you like you can call me at the sta-

  tion. I host a show on campus radio. It’s called The Panther Power

  Hour. We deal with issues like Affirmative Action, Police brutali-

  ty –”

  “Listen, dig,” he interr upted. “I ain’t finta start nuttin wit you

  I can’t finish. You don’t owe me nuttin, aight?” Then he turned

  and looked at me, “Besides you wasn’t all that anyway.”

  I turned up the volume so high on the stereo it sounded like

  it was going to bust the speakers. He cringed and looked at me like

  I was crazy. We drove the rest of the wa
y not speaking and me still

  not believing the last twenty-four hours of my life.

  I finally reached Tallahassee and I drove down Tennessee

  Street. There is so much human electricity in this college town

  that it pulsates. You can actually feel it, like your own heartbeat,

  that is if you are young, 21 years old and hungry to succeed like I

  was. I was happy to be back on my old stomping grounds. Life

  was looking out the window like a kid in a candy store. Women

  of all ethnicities walked the streets. I pulled into the new Holiday

  Inn that had just been built. Life turned and watched me. For

  some reason I thought of an old saying,

  penny for your thoughts

  .

  *****

  43

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Five

  “The Land of Milk and Honey”

  – Life –

  I was watching this broad Hope, she done played a nigga like a

  piano. I could see she felt like shit, guilty conscience and all. I

  wanted her to marinate in it. I knew she felt bad about having to

  accept this car plus me selling her old piece of junk. She thought

  this car cost a lot of money. Hell, I hacked off that much money

  in a strip club, besides, I could make it back in an hour hustling.

  Now, as I looked at her, I was filled with envy, lust and some more

  shit. I couldn’t believe she gave me that lame ass excuse, talking

  ‘bout she got a man. Fuck her! I was a playa. I needed a bitch

  about as bad as a fish needed a raincoat. I was forced to admit, that

  was some gangsta shit she pulled at the mall, rescuing me from the

  police and her sex was sweet and pure like it was the first time I

  ever made love to a woman. Afterward, I had to smoke a cigarette

  and watched her as she slept, thinking how God knew what he

  was doing when he created Woman.

  She pulled up at the hotel. Sadly, it kind of disturbed me. I

  knew it was the end of the road for us but it was all-good. I knew

  that I was going to take over this town, little by little, this was

  what we hustlers called fertile land. A nice-sized city with plenty

  of money. My plan was to make a couple million, build a small

  bankroll and get out of the game, so I thought.