Twisted Tales (18 page)

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Authors: Brandon Massey

BOOK: Twisted Tales
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“That’s what they say. But it looks like you found one. Your husband.”
“We’ve been married for only a few weeks,” Diana said. “He works long hours, leaving little old me here, all alone.”
“That’s not very wise of him—especially with another strong black man so close by.”
He could not believe the things he was saying. He didn’t even sound like himself. Where was this stuff coming from?
But God, it felt so good to flirt with a beautiful woman who seemed just as interested in him.
Diana leaned closer, across the threshold. The sweet, spicy scent of her perfume enveloped him, like a mist.
He leaned closer to her. Their faces were only a few inches apart.
“I’d invite you in for a drink, but my husband will be back soon,” she said. “Besides, your wife might get jealous.”
“Maybe that’s what she needs,” he said.
She raised one long, elegant finger, pressed it against her lips, and then pushed it gently against his bottom lip, smearing blood-red lipstick across his skin.
“In time, Eric,” she said in a whisper. “We’re neighbors, lucky for us. You’ll see me again, very soon.”
As he was about to reply that he could hardly wait, he heard a vehicle roll into the driveway behind him.
Her husband had returned.
Frantically—but discreetly—trying to wipe the lipstick off his bottom lip, Eric backed away from the door. Smiling secretively, Diana mouthed the words, “’Bye, Eric,” and vanished into the house.
Eric didn’t want to meet her husband, worried that guilt would be evident on his face, but it was the only sensible thing to do, seeing as he was standing on the guy’s property. Eric approached the man when he got out of the vehicle.
“Hi, my name’s Eric. I live next door. I was just introducing myself to your wife.”
The guy grunted. “I saw that.” Hefting a paper grocery bag in one hand, he shuffled toward the house.
Eric stuck out his hand to be shook. Mumbling, “Name’s Ted,” and not meeting Eric’s eyes, the man quickly shook Eric’s hand. He had a weak grip.
In fact, Eric noted, the man looked fragile in general. Although he was about six-two, a couple of inches taller than Eric, he was very thin, no more than one hundred fifty pounds, and he didn’t look healthy. His brown skin was sallow, his face drawn and sunken. His eyes were tinged with red. He had a long, unkempt Afro that was speckled with dandruff, and he badly needed to shave.
What did Diana see in this man? He didn’t seem to be her type at all.
“Take care, be safe around here,” Ted muttered, and brushed past Eric on his way to the front door. He walked with a slow, dragging gait, as if each footstep drained him. Eric had walked like that once himself—it had been when he was in the hospital, walking for the first time after having an appendectomy.
Ted was obviously ill. He didn’t need to be out running errands, or working. He needed to be in the bed, being nursed back to health.
And what did he mean by that comment, “... be safe around here”? It wasn’t as though they lived in a war zone. They resided in a comfortable, middle-class community.
Ted went in the house. Frowning, Eric walked back to his yard and restarted the lawn mower.
And promptly forgot about Ted and began daydreaming about Diana. She liked him; he liked her. What was going to happen next?
He shook his head, as if awakening from a dream.
“Nothing is going to happen next,” he sternly told himself. “You’re married, Eric. Remember? Forget about her, man.”
But she was all he thought about for the rest of the day.
 
The next morning, at church, the pastor preached on a popular topic: resisting the sinful temptations of the flesh.
Eric sank lower in the pew, as if to avoid the minister’s alert gaze—or anyone else in the congregation who might look at him and detect the immoral desires that burned in his heart. Although their church had over two thousand members, Eric was half-convinced that the preacher’s sermon was intended solely for him.
He practically ran out of the church after service.
At home, he changed out of his suit and went into the study upstairs, to surf the Web. Tina, predictably, pursued her favorite postchurch activity: napping.
He was sitting at his computer, playing an online game, when he happened to glance out of the window beside his desk. What he saw made his mouth go dry.
The window provided a view of the house next door, and that house also had a second-floor window. Diana stood revealed in the glass, arms raised, evidently hanging blinds.
She was completely topless.
Even from a distance, the perfection of her body was obvious. Her breasts were round, full, and firm, the dark nipples like chocolate-covered cherries.
A huge, pulsating erection fought against Eric’s shorts.
Close the blinds, Eric,
he ordered himself.
You don’t need to be watching this. What if Tina sees you?
But he didn’t move.
In fact, he wondered where he had placed his binoculars. They were somewhere in the house, maybe in the garage. He was afraid to go look for them. He didn’t want to miss one second of this voyeuristic treat.
You’re going to burn in hell for this.
So what? It would be worth it, she’s so beautiful ...
Suddenly, Diana spotted him watching her. He froze like a possum caught in car headlights.
She waved at him cheerfully. Then she dropped down the newly hung blinds, covering the window.
He blew out a chestful of air.
She knew I was watching her all along. She’s teasing me. And it’s working.
He wondered if she walked around the house in the nude. The thought was almost painfully arousing.
Forehead filmed with sweat, he closed the blinds on his window, too. But that didn’t solve his most urgent problem: a throbbing hard-on that wasn’t going to leave anytime soon.
He went to the bedroom. His wife slumbered on her side. She wore a baggy T-shirt and sagging sweatpants, and her hair stuck up in wild strands.
She was hardly an attractive sight, he hated to admit, but he ached for release, and she was his wife. He stretched out beside her and pressed his stiff dick against her wide butt, rubbed insistently.
“Uh-uh, honey,” she mumbled groggily. She reached back and swatted him as if he was an annoying fly. “I’m sleeping ...”
“Come on, baby.” He reached to caress one of her breasts.
“Later,” she muttered, and flopped over onto her stomach, taking her hips and breasts away from him.
Eric wanted to scream. He lay there staring at the ceiling fan, images of Diana’s breasts lodged in his head. His eager dick ached.
Outside of sexual activity, there was only one sure way to beat down lust—exercise. He laced his Nike running shoes, then set about running on the road that weaved through their subdivision.
When he was a few blocks away from the house, jogging along the side of the road, a vehicle roared behind him. Alarmed, he looked over his shoulder. A Ford Expedition thundered his way.
Shouting curses, he leapt onto the grass, out of the SUV’s path. He stumbled over his feet and fell.
The Ford rocked to a stop. Ted, his neighbor, climbed out.
Eric got up, brushing grass off his skinned knees. “What the hell is wrong with you, man? You were gonna hit me!”
Coming around the front of the truck, Ted looked sicker than ever. Dark circles ringed his eyes. He’d lost more weight. His hair and beard grew wildly, as if he was a mountain man.
Ted pointed at Eric with a shaky finger.
“Do I have your attention now, brother?” He’d obviously meant to shout, but his voice came out soft. “Stay away from her! You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ted rushed forward with unexpected quickness, snagged Eric by his shirt, and shook him.
“I’m talking about
her
!” he shouted hoarsely, spittle spraying Eric’s face. “I’m warning you, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep away from her.”
“Get off me, man.” Eric pushed the guy away from him.
Ted staggered, and he once again appeared frail and sickly.
“I tried,” Ted mumbled, shaking his head sadly. “Guy’s thinking with the wrong head.”
“Are you sick or something?” Eric asked.
Ted raised his head, and there was no mistaking the emotion in his watery eyes: fear.
What was this guy so afraid of?
“Just stay away from her,” Ted said, in a lifeless tone. Hitching his jeans over his sunken hips, he shuffled around the truck, got in, and drove away.
“He’s a nutcase,” Eric decided. “And a jealous one at that.”
Diana had probably said something about him to Ted—something innocent—and Ted, being a jealous husband, had gotten pissed off. The crazy dude had come out here trying to throw a scare into him. Ted’s look of fear likely stemmed from his worry that Eric would steal his wife.
Couldn’t say I blame him for that,
Eric thought.
If she was mine, I’d be paranoid that some guy would take her from me, too.
Still, he wondered if he was right. Something about Ted’s voice bothered him. There didn’t seem to be a personal threat in Ted’s words. Ted’s warning, in fact, seemed to be genuinely goodwilled, as if he saw Eric unknowingly walking into a lion’s den and wanted to save him.
But that would mean that Diana herself was dangerous. And that, of course, was ridiculous. She wasn’t a monster. She was a beautiful woman—who happened to be attracted to him.
Thinking about seeing her in the window made him start running again.
 
That night, Eric and his wife went to bed without making love. Eric did a mental tabulation: this marked the thirtieth day that he’d gone without sex.
A whole month without sex, and he was married, for God’s sake. That was ridiculous.
Earlier that evening, he’d tried again to initiate lovemaking with Tina, and again, she spurned him. He wasn’t surprised, really. She’d always had the strange idea that there was something sinful about having sex on Sunday.
So he fell asleep fantasizing about the woman next door. Those breasts ...
When he awoke in the middle of the night from an erotic dream, he sensed that there was someone in the room with him and his wife.
He blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. A slim figure stood at the foot of the bed. A sweet fragrance teased his nostrils.
It was Diana.
His heart clutched.
Diana raised her finger to her lips. She spoke in a whisper. “Hush, Eric. Don’t say a word, or I’ll leave.”
He pressed his lips together tightly. It took a mighty effort to suppress the words he wanted to say, such as:
How did you get in my house?
On the wall beside the bedroom door, a red light glowed on the security system control panel. The system was engaged. There was no way someone could get in without tripping the alarm. It was impossible.
But she was there.
He kept silent, nevertheless, his eagerness to see what she was going to do more powerful than his desire to ask any questions.
Beside him, Tina slumbered deeply. Nothing short of a nuclear blast could ever wake her.
Diana was nude; it was dark, but he could see her nakedness. As if a switch had been clicked in his body, his dick immediately grew stiff and ready.
In front of him, she knelt, lifted the bedspread. She burrowed underneath.
What is she going to do to me?
He felt her warm fingers tracing circles across his thighs. It was a sensual, tickling sensation. A thrill of pleasure ran through him.
The shape of her head slid closer, to the juncture between his legs.
Oh, God. I don’t believe this.
Her fingers loosened his dick from his boxer shorts. She stroked him, gently, insistently.
He moaned.
Her pliant lips kissed the insides of his thighs. Soft, teasing kisses.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Then she slid her warm, moist lips over the head of his dick. She flicked her tongue across the tip.
He grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheet in his sweaty hands.
She pleasured him with feather-light flutterings of her tongue. Then she took him all the way into her mouth. She worked him in and out—expertly, lovingly.
I don’t believe this, this is the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life, oh, Jesus ...

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