Marriage Mayhem (19 page)

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Authors: Samuel L. Hair

BOOK: Marriage Mayhem
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“I thought slow and deep was your motto,” replied David, smiling.
“Yep, you're right, but that's only when I don't have another engagement lined up.”
David was a wealthy African American real estate broker who paid Karen four hundred dollars a sex session. The fact of him being married did not prevent him from having sex with whores four to five times a week. He had revealed to Karen during their first encounter that his wife was from the old school and did not give blow jobs, which caused him to go elsewhere.
“Lots of my clients tell me that,” Karen sympathized. “And I really think it's a damn shame that some women just aren't capable of keeping their man inside their own bed. If a woman has a good man, she has to satisfy him in all aspects of sex in order to keep him from fucking around.”
David would always insist on doing kinky things before or during sex. He would bring X-rated videos, handcuffs, vibrators, ropes, and took pleasure in wearing different costumes. That particular day, while Karen disappeared into the kitchen to fix them a drink, David had quickly changed into a Superman suit, put on his mask, and then turned on an X-rated video. There was a huge hole cut in the crotch area of his suit, which allowed his long, thick penis to hang freely. After watching a few seconds of his favorite movie, he was fully erect. Like Tyrone, David had a horse dick that Karen took much pleasure in riding.
When Karen returned with the drinks, she glanced at David and smiled.
“Just the way I like it,” she said.
She then handed him his drink, and then began stroking his erection. Then they toasted to pleasurable moments.
“So tell me, baby, what do you have in store for this today?” asked David, standing with a proud erection.
“I'm going to suck it, lick it, slurp it, and then I'm going to ride the hell out of it,” said Karen, smiling.
“Damn, girl, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
Realizing he hadn't paid her yet, Karen held out her hand.
“Business first, and then pleasure, my big-dick friend.”
“You got me so damn excited, I almost forgot.” She continued stroking his erection as he walked over to his pants to grab his wallet.
He then peeled off four crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and handed them to her, smiling. Karen accepted the money and then put it amongst the other money inside the shoebox. She then slid the box underneath the bed.
Wasting no time, Karen fell to her knees and began giving her client a slow head job and massaging his balls while doing so. Instead of watching Karen's lips and tongue, David focused on the X-rated movie that was showing a scene of a long-dicked black man inserting himself inside a white woman's rectum. Seeing the painful expressions on the woman's face excited David and triggered him to grab Karen and position her, doggy-style.
“Wait one minute, stay right there and don't move,” David said, and then went to his carryall bag, pulled out some Vaseline and rubbed it over his penis, and then made his way back to Karen. Then without notice or asking, he rammed his dick inside of her rectum.
“Ooowwee! Ooowwee, no! Take it out, David!” Karen yelled, but he ignored her and dug even deeper. He had a tight hold on her, preventing her from moving.
“Stop, David, you're hurting me! Take it out!”
“Shut up, bitch!” yelled David. Then he began pounding in and out.
Karen finally eased out of his hold enough to cause his penis to slip out, but that only made him angrier. She then attempted to run to the door, but he went after her and grabbed her and began punching her like she was a man. Her weakness allowed him to regain control over her and soon he had reinserted himself back inside her rectum and continued pounding. Blood began heavily discharging from Karen's rectum, but that still did not stop David's hammering. He finally came fifteen minutes later. Seeing that Karen was weak and helpless, David hurriedly changed back into his business suit and tie, and then grabbed the box of money from underneath the bed along with his carryall bag and then split.
Even though Karen was too weak to respond to David's violence, she had observed everything that he. She lay helplessly on the floor visualizing what had taken place. She thought about alternatives, but she had none. She thought about contacting the police, but quickly dismissed that thought, realizing that she had committed the crime of prostitution. Then she thought about stealing more money from Jermaine's bank account to hire a hit-man to kill David, but the only problem was that she had no idea where to locate him.
Moments later she finally came to the conclusion that she was completely defenseless, and had to accept the loss and chalk it up to the game. She would use this experience as a lesson to be learned.
She pulled herself up and went to the restroom. While looking in a mirror at her bruises and feeling the pain in her rectum, Karen realized that she needed to think of a quick lie to tell Jermaine and the kids.
I'll check myself into the hospital and tell everyone I got beat up and raped in the butt,
she thought
.
It took her almost two hours to make it to the hospital. After being examined by the nurses and doctors in the emergency room, tests reflected that the crime of rape and assault had been committed on Karen, so the police were immediately notified. To strengthen her lie, Karen had one of the nurses call Jermaine, Jewell, and Jasmine to inform them that she was in the hospital, and also to tell them what had taken place.
Neither Jermaine, Jewell, or Jasmine believed Karen's lie.
The following day Karen was released from the hospital. Once she'd made it home, Jermaine did not show her any love or affection. He sensed that she was full of shit and was playing him one way or another.
Chapter 14
A few days after Karen left the hospital her attitude toward Jermaine had gotten even worse. Life for him became more and more depressing, stressful, and shameful by the day. The fact of him taking off work to look after her did not mean anything to her. Regardless of his kindness, concern, and sincerity, Karen still showed no appreciation whatsoever. She continued to disrespect him, to curse him, and to call him and his family members awful names for no apparent reason. He had gotten so mad one day that he finally blew his cool. He could not and will not tolerate anymore of her bullshit.
“I don't have to take this shit! Fuck that!” he shouted, while driving his big rig. “She's an ungrateful bitch, and nothing's gonna change that! I've been patient and tried everything possible to make this marriage work, but it's imfuckin'-possible! I'm tired of her going against every suggestion, decision, or advice that I give! I'm tired of her calling my mother and daughter bitches and whores, and I'm tired of her talking to me any kind of way. I'm tired of her getting defensive when I say something to her kids about eating in my living room, about messing with buttons on my TVs, about fuckin' with my PC or my laptop, or about writing or scribbling on my damn walls! I'm tired of you, Karen! I'm the one who provides a roof over your head and make sure you drive a nice car! I'm the one who made sure your kids had a Christmas! I'm the one who buys your cigarettes, gives you gas money, and buys Pampers and milk for Alexus! I'm the one who buys your tampons when you're bleeding! Is this the muthafuckin' thanks I get? And now you think I'm stupid enough to believe that goddamn lie about someone raping you and beating you up! Bitch, I'm not stupid! Fuck that, I deserve to be treated better than this! I'm getting a fuckin' divorce then I'll find me someone who appreciates me! Yeah, that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”
Jermaine stormed into his home like a madman after work. He bypassed the kids without speaking and headed straight for the bedroom. Karen was laying down, watching Jerry Springer.
“We've gotta talk!” he said, and then closed the door.
“Can't you see I'm watching TV?” she replied, never looking at him.
He then approached the television and snatched the plug out of the wall.
“I said we've gotta talk!”
“Are you on your fuckin' period again because you're sure acting like a bitch!” She then got up and attempted to plug the television back up.
“This is my fuckin' TV, my fuckin' electric bill, and my fuckin' bed you're laying in!”
“So fucking what! Who gives a flying fuck! That's your fucking problem; you're always talking about what's yours, and about what you've bought! Since you make so much fuckin' money you need to pay a damn doctor to make your dick bigger, then maybe I'll wanna fuck you more often. I know you're just mad because I won't give you pussy or suck your little dick head when you want me to, but ohfuckin'-well.”
“I want a divorce, Karen, and I'm gonna initiate it ASAP!” Jermaine said, giving her a serious look.
“People in hell want ice water too. I don't give a fuck about your wants; I'm not signing any goddamn divorce papers! And if you happen to find a way to divorce me without me signing, I'm going to fuck you royally, Jermaine, and that's a promise! If you keep talking I'll call the fuckin' police right now and tell them you raped me! I'll have your black ass locked up quicker than lightning strikes, muthafucka! Don't fuck with me, Jermaine, I'm warning you! When I finish with you, you won't have a damn thing, but expensive monthly payments!” she replied, standing in his face.
“Yeah, right. Have you forgotten that I came into your life and saved your sorry ass? I took you and your kids in, gave you a fuckin' car to drive, made sure your kids had presents on Christmas, found you a fuckin' job, and the list goes on, bitch!”
“Your mama is a bitch, your dead daddy was a bitch, and your ugly-ass daughter was a bitch!”
“What?”
“You heard what I said, muthafucka. I didn't stutter!”
He balled his fist and stood in silence for a moment. “I told you about talking about my people!” He wanted to knock out her teeth, but quickly thought about the assault charges he would face, which would automatically send him to jail. “That's why I'm divorcing you! You could never be the right woman for me. You don't appreciate a damn thing I've done for you and your kids, and you're just not capable of being sincere. I don't know why I married a damn schizophrenic anyhow.”
She spit in his face, then pushed him, and then tried to get a grip on his balls, but his movements were too quick for her.
“I've been waiting on you to put your hands on me again so I could have you arrested! Your ass is gone now,” he said, then reached for the telephone, but she reacted quicker and snatched the cord out of the wall. Then she rushed him, throwing a series of punches, landing a couple of good ones to his eye and nose. Again she reached for his penis or balls, and this time she had a firm grip.
“Aw shit! I'm fuckin you up now!” yelled Jermaine. He was now forced to push her, hoping she would release her grip. Thank God it worked. He then stormed out of the house and dialed 911 on his cell.
Karen went on a rapid rampage. She stormed into his office and picked up his computer, scanner, fax machine, and flat screen monitor, and slammed them all on the floor. Then she ran from room to room and scratched each of his televisions with a fork. Afterward, she rushed to the garage and grabbed a bucket of paint and a can of gasoline and then poured it over his Beamer and Escalade.
Thinking about the consequences she'd have to face if sent to jail, Karen ran back inside and grabbed Alexus and Stevie, and then climbed into the Mustang and split the scene.
Sergeant Miller was the first officer on the scene. Observing the damage and vandalism done to Jermaine's home and belongings, Sergeant Miller instantly initiated a police report. Jermaine revealed to the sergeant that Karen had been to prison for assault and battery and was currently on probation for child endangerment. He then told the sergeant how he had met Karen, and went on to tell him about the things that he had been through since marrying her.
“I feel for you, Mr. Hopkins,” said the sergeant. “And I can assure you that you've done the right thing by not hitting her. Most men would've reacted by beating the hell out of her, but thank God you kept your cool and called us.”
“It was hard, sarge, but I'm not trying to go to jail, you know?”
“I know what you mean, Mr. Hopkins.”
After advising Jermaine to get a restraining order, Sergeant Miller then put out an APB on Karen and on Jermaine's vehicle.
The following day, Jermaine sat in court all day until he received a restraining order against Karen. Once the judge granted the restraining order, Jermaine then made his way to the probation department to enlighten Karen's probation officer on what had taken place. After talking with her for close to an hour, he then initiated a divorce. It was a good thing that they had no kids or property together and had been married for such a short while.
Later that day, Jermaine hired a couple of Mexicans to assist him in moving all of Karen and her kids' belongings out of his home.
It had been six long months of mayhem since they day they'd said “I do.”
Chapter 15
Karen had parked Jermaine's car at his job then she and the kids had caught an express bus to Los Angeles. She realized that the police would be looking for her and she did not want to be too easy of a target driving Jermaine's car. A deputy sheriff spotted the Mustang minutes after she had abandoned it. Jermaine was notified right away.
Realizing that she was in trouble with her husband, and in deep trouble with the police and her probation officer, Karen decided to leave Lancaster for good, and relocate back to the city where she was born and raised, and to the city that her life of drug usage and crime had begun: Pasadena, California.
She dropped her kids at her aunt's house, and then hit the streets of Pasadena on foot seeing what she could get in to. Having the “I don't give a fuck anymore” attitude led her to the nearest crack house.
Once inside, the addicts that had not seen her in a while gave her hugs and told her that she was looking well, but they refused to share their crack with her. She desperately needed a hit.
“This is all I got,” one addict said to her.
“I ain't gonna be the one responsible for you relapsing, so I ain't giving you a damn thing,” another addict said to her.
“I had to take a penitentiary chance to get this, and I ain't giving nobody shit!” said another addict.
“This shit ain't free, Karen. You gotta do what you do best if you wanna get high, girl. Go out there and get paid, girl, hell, you know the game,” suggested Peaches, a reputed prostitute and crack addict.
Karen then left and decided to give a couple dealers a visit that she knew for a fact would exchange a head job for a twenty dollar piece of crack.
As long as my kids are taken care of, I'm straight,
thought Karen.
I know I'm going to jail soon, so fuck it; I may as well have all the fun I can before I go. I fucked up again with my husband, and I can't blame anyone but myself. He's a good man, and he does deserve someone better than me. I wonder if he still loves me. I wonder if he'll take care of the kids if I get locked up. I wonder if he'll send me money. I wonder if he's really going to divorce me, or will he come looking for me again like he did when I relapsed the last time? I wonder if—
Her determination to earn some crack soon became a reality after giving three crack dealers head jobs. Neither of them wanted to fuck her, but they were very much pleased from the pleasures of her tongue and lips. They referred to her from back in the days as “the head master.” Some of her old tricks and small-time hustlers referred to as “eat-'emup.”
Now with a few rocks in her possession Karen began thinking.
I'm gonna sell some, and smoke some. I can't fuck up all my profits and go out backwards because ain't nobody gonna look out for me, but me. I admit that I fucked up a good thing and I do regret it, but I ain't a punk or an ass-kisser and I got tired of kissing Jermaine's ass. Fuck it; I gotta do what I gotta do.
Karen recruited two addicts who were known prostitutes to assist her with her operation. She fed them crack to spread the word about the new dope spot, and once they returned she fed them more crack to lick her pussy while she laid back smoking, enjoying the bliss of their tongues and soft touch. Karen was known to be a control freak, especially with women, whenever she had drugs for sale.
They set up shop in an abandoned house in one of the many ghetto areas in Pasadena. Because the spot was not known, the first few days of business was slow, which caused Karen to begin dipping into her product. Each time she took a hit, she gave her workers a hit.
When customers began coming, Karen had pinched off the product so much that it was to a point that it was not salable or acceptable to anyone.
Karen's hopes had failed days after the grand opening. She was completely out of business and had to rethink things.
Her recruits were laughing at her and talking about her a couple days later.
“How can an alcoholic manage a liquor store?” asked one of Karen's recruits.
“I knew she was going to go out backwards. She was trying to act like she was all that because she had a little dope sack,” inputted the other recruit.
Broke, disgusted, with no options to choose from Karen felt she had no other choice but to do a repeat with the dealers.
I gotta do what I gotta do,
she told herself.
Her attempts went unsuccessful; neither of the dealers wanted blow jobs at the time. Seeing they were not interested in her offer, she tried reasoning with them to front her a dope sack, but because of her bad reputation and because she had not been around for a while, they refused her. She begged and pleaded, and made promises, but they still denied her. “Fuck it!” she yelled.”I'll make my own goddamn money and buy my own fuckin' dope.”
That attitude led her straight to the whore stroll.
Once she hit the whore stroll she had no problem being picked up.
A couple weeks later the street life began taking its toll on Karen. She had gotten to the point that the only thing she thought about was a hit of crack. She did not care about her appearance, her unbrushed teeth, nor did she care about wearing the same clothes and panties each day. When her period came she used toilet tissue and napkins from McDonald's in place of tampons. She was tore up from the floor up, but because of her reputation of giving extreme sexual pleasures, both men and women picked her up on a daily basis. That lasted a few weeks until she was arrested by the Pasadena police for smoking crack on a bus stop. Her arrest resulted in an automatic probation violation and additional charges of assault on Jermaine, possession of paraphernalia, and possession of a controlled substance.

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