Chapter 6
His rest day, King realizes, waking up. Francine's too, for that matter.
But he feels himself getting stale, burning out. He has to get away from it for a day.
That, after all, is why there is always a rest day in the bodybuilding routine.
And Francine?
She reminds him too much of the gym.
And he is not prepared to view her in the same light as before.
Not since Rhino.
Not that she is emotionally taken with Rhino in any sense.
In fact, she has already told King that Rhino "gives her the creeps".
But that was afterward.
Before that, before they got physically close to him, she had been far too casual, far too quick to accept Rhino's proposal that the three of them get together.
Thus enlightened about her and about what had mistaken for the nature of their relationship, he feels no obligation to spend his day off with her.
Besides, they don't have a formal understanding or a date.
So, if she is expecting him to show up at her door, she is about to be disappointed.
Because he feels like a visit to the old neighborhood.
He knows nobody and nobody knows him. Yet, he appends.
Because, if he wins the mixed pairs, they will definitely know him.
He will be a star, a celebrity.
It's been years since he's been in this neighborhood.
But nothing ever changes here, he notes. And sees that this is not quite true.
The same dingy, littered streets, the same rundown buildings, true; but now, they are interspersed here and there with incongruous new construction, high rise apartment houses.
What the story behind these last could be, he hasn't the foggiest notion.
Why would anyone build such a thing here, of all places?
Unless- Of course.
He sees now what he didn't see before.
The furtive street-comer meetings and exchanges.
Guys loitering on corners looking nervously this way and that.
That too has changed since the old days, when drug deals on the street were the exception rather than the rule.
And the apartment houses?
Hey, guy's gonna rise in the world and not be too far from his work, he's gotta live somewhere, right?
And that just has to be the connection.
It sickens King, really..
To think that the bars and pool halls, formerly considered dens of iniquity, should now be thought of as healthy by comparison!
Their proprietors would, of course, permit no drug deals on the premises, even back then, when he still loved in the area, for fear that they could lose their licenses.
No drugs, no minors allowed.
They knew that the long arm of the law might suddenly reach out and exert its tenuous claim on them out of sheer frustr~utifs-irjlityt0 seriously impact the moving targets that dominate. the streets with their illicit and deadly commerce.
King walks the dirty streets, walks past the pool hall, the clicking of the balls reminding him of long ago.
He goes to a bar that he remembers, even though it is early in the day.
That will make no difference, he is sure. And sure enough, the bar is open.
He goes in.
And sure enough, already there are a couple of heavyweight beer drinkers, sitting at tables, nodding like junkies, except for one, already snoozing.
"What'll it be, Red?"
And it takes him a long instant to realize that the barmaid is actually talking to him.
Red.
He has to come here to be called Red.
Nobody at the gym or around where he lives would ever think to call him Red, a reference to the color of his hair, which is actually more brown - than red.
But the point of the appellation is that his hair is not black.
Just as his skin is not really black, meaning one of the darker shades of brown.
So that he is considered a privileged minority within a minority by certain local standards. Hence, he is once again Red.
An odd mixture of envy and contempt, so formalized here that it is impersonal.
Could be him, could be anyone else with that particular set of chromosomes, male or female. Red. Sheesh!
"My old neighborhood," he says.
"Just lookin"roun' "
"You uh, somebody famous or sumthin'?" she asks.
"Football player, by the looka you-Red."
"No, ain't famous-yet."
"You mean it's comin'?"
He looks the barmaid up and down, trying to decide whether or not she is putting him on. And he can't tell.
She smiles at him.
And looks down at her generous cleavage.
She is a large woman, gifted with huge, heavy breasts, most of which are exposed by her low-cut blouse.
"Kinda wasted, ain't it?" he asks, looking around, then back at her dcolletage.
"Tell it to the man in chahge back there," she says. "Tole `im not ta bring me in early."
"But he a lazy mofo, see?
"Don' wanna be tendin' no bah, he don't.
"So ah gots ta stan' aroun' heah, wasted, like you say."
"Hey, that means you gettin' ovatime f Join' nuthin'. Don' be knockin' it."
"Yeah, right. All that an' free room an' board."
"Howzat?"
"Easy. I got me a 'pahtmint upstairs.
"Part of the deal."
"Don' make jack shit fum `at cheap mofo, but `tween the room, the food an' the tips, cain' handly `ford ta leave."
"You soun' lak a woman lookin' to be rescued."
"That an offah?" she asks patting the back of her straightened, upswept hairdo.
"Not really."
"Til I do get rich an' famous, ain't but so much rescuin' ah kin do."
"Sides, you prob'ly wanna staht wif sumthin' smallah, work yo' way up ta mah sazz."
"Naw, I like a big woman."
"Really?"
"I kid joo not."
She looks around the bar, sees nothing stirring, and says, "In dat case, how you lak a lI'l tayss, kine of preview of comin' attrack-shuns?"
He eyes her up and down.
It has been a while, he thinks.
But what's with this broad? What does she expect to come of this?
"Like I say, I ain' rich an' famous yet."
"In dat case," she responds, smiling, "ah'm de one be gittin' de preview "Dat is, unless y'all so use ta de white meat you don' rightly knows how ta hannel nunna de good stuff no mo'."
Great, he thinks. First Red, now this.
He has to come here for his dose of racism.
"When do you get off?" he asks.
She laughs.
"Not 'til aftah y'all gits yo' pale tan buns safely out de neighb'hood, fo' sure!"
And I'm a coward too, he thinks. Really glad I thought about coming over here.
Aloud, "Then I guess I'm not following you."
"You jus' gots ta follow me right up them stairs ovah deh, sugah!"
And she nods toward the roped off stairs leading to the second floor against the far wall.
He turns, looks, then turns back to her. "You wif de program or not, Red?" she asks. He shrugs, smiling. "Why not?"
She undoes her apron, massive mammaries jiggling as she bends to untie the knot behind her.
"Freddy!" she yells, not looking back toward the kitchen, laying her apron on the bar, "coin' upstairs fo' awhal'! Watch de bah!"
"Yeah, okay, don' be long though!" comes a voice from the kitchen.
She ignores him, raising a section of the bar at one end and slipping through.
"This way, babe," she says.
And, unhitching the theater-like velveteen rope with its chromed hook, she ushers him up the creaking stairs.
"You be wantin' a real tayss, ah'll take me a spar," she says.
He picks up on the challenge in her tone.
Daring him to really get into her, to give her something more than a perfunctory fuck.
"You got a douche bag?" he asks.
Telling her that if it's detail she wants, that's what she'll get.
"You talk a mighty good game, Red," she says', unbuttoning her blouse and removing it.
She turns around.
"Undo me back there, will ya?" she says.
And he unhooks her bra, slipping hi hands around her breasts under her armpits, between the flesh and the heavy duty undergarment.
"You ain't seen nuthin' yet," she says, slipping the bra off and tossing it on a chair.
She steps out of her flats and unhooks the back of her skirt, then lets it drop to the floor, stepping out of it before kicking it expertly onto the chair.
And he looks at her wide thighs, the flare of her wide, wide hips, her deep navel, as she slips out of her black bikini panties.
"Be right back," she says. "You jus' make yo'se'f cumftable, sugah."
And he watches the twin boulders of her ass as they grind against each other on her way into the bathroom.
He strips.
And starts to get onto the bed.
Fuck it, he thinks, let her see what she's getting, what she's been putting down.
And stands there, waiting.
And to good purpose, because- "Lookit choo now!" she exclaims.
And comes up to him.
And rubs her big boobs against his chest, hands going around behind him to grasp the portruding masses of his glutes.
"Mmm-mmm!" she enthuses. "You don' gotta do a lot ta be rich an' famous, sugah! All you gots ta do is take off yo' clothes!"
"Now, if that worked, you'da been famous a long time ago, right?" he asks, returning her embrace, helping himself to handfuls of tle mass of her ass.
"So much fo' de compliments an' bullshit, stud," she says, breaking away from him to remove the covers from the bed.
She gets onto it, moving over to make room for him, patting the bed beside; her.
And he does not hesitate, but gets on, cradling her head on an arm, beginning to fondle her mammoth mammaries with his free hand.
And sliding down, removing his hand from behind her head.
And turning onto his stomach.
And leaning over her, sealing his mouth to a giant doorbell of a nipple.
And sucking it.
And fondling and kneading the huge gland beneath.
And feeling it respond, the nipple becoming stiffly rubbery and erect.
And going on to the other one, wallowing in her massiveness Flesh and flesh and flesh!
Brown billows of it, warm and yielding, firm and So that yes, he can lose himself in her.
He an let his awareness go out of focus, crossing the invisible barrier between the outside world and the one they are creating, she with her body, he with the action.
He can become dizzy, disoriented, helping if to handfuls and mouthfuls of her as she squirms with pleasure beneath him.
She was concerned about his e-making, his willingness to get close to her?
He'll show her what close is!
And now, he slides further down her, reluctantly leaving those big boobs of hers behind for the moment.
Because the day is young.
And there will be seconds, perhaps even thirds, depending on how much time she cares to steal from the lazy Freddy downstairs.
Her problem, not his.
He has all day and yes, even all night, if he wants it.
But now, he turns his attention to the task at hand.
He spreads her big, heavy thighs wide, shoving them apart as he raises them, exposing her cunt, with its dark lips and pink interior.
He is the master technician of twat as he seals his lips to her big pussy.
"Ooooh!" she exclaims.
She did not really expect him to do this, obviously.
Why should he, after all?
Because she knows that he can have all the white nookie he wants.
He can have first class from the first class. And yet, here he is, doing this with her. Taking his root back to his roots, he is.
How else explain his being here, his doing this? And now, he is exploring her cunt with his tongue.
He is rolling her big, protruding clit round and round with the tip of his tongue.
He is sliding his tongue down the insides of her labia, slippery now with her clear juices which have begun to flow freely.
He is fucking her with his tongue, sliding it in and out, careful to glide over the clit both ways.
Deep, deep, deep, as far as he can extend his tongue he goes into her hot, juicy depths.
He turns his head to one side, the better to match insert of tongue with sleeve of pussy.
And he braces her legs with both hands, creating of them supports for her heavy legs.
He takes his time, revelling in her snatch, exploring every inch of it-interior depths, lips, clit.
And she is rocking and rolling, moaning softly to herself, craning her neck awkwardly, trying to see over her lolling breasts, as though by so doing she could see something beyond the top of his head.
She puts her hands behind her head, the better to elevate it, so that she can see, even though it is merely his`liead, handsome profile turned sideways, eyes closed, tongue extended, that she can see, her legs hiding the rest of him.
But he can tell that she wants a good look at him.
And now, he accommodates her, pulling back, sitting back, ass to heels as he crouches there, then straightens up, resting on his knees.
So that she has a full, unobstructed view of his upper body and at the cock which now rises stiffly from his bush, a thick, long flagpole, the dark, ruddy eye of the head looking back at her.
And she takes him in, all of him.
The best ever!
And he knows that this is what she is thinking.
Because she may have had bigger, if only in size of cock, body, or both, but she hasnever had it this well put together.
No question.
He gives her a good, long look, suggestively toying with his prick with one hand as he watches her watching him.
He grins knowingly.
And now, he is leaning forward, one hand bracing his body, planted firmly in the bed beside one massive thigh, which she has raises as she spreads her legs wide, preparing to receive him.
And he does not keep her waiting.
Because now, he is moving forward, one hand guiding his mighty prod toward its target.
And now, he is inserting himself into her.
He has a big cock, but she has a big cunt, one which receives him quite easily So that he shafts smoothly into the hot, wet depths of her cunt, which seems almost to reach out and grasp him in its juicy, pressurized embrace.
And now, he is fucking her, pumping up and down, causing her body to bounce heavily on the bed, legs bent at the knees, welcoming him, again and again, welcoming each thrust.
And now, he accelerates.
And he is fucking her faster and harder.
She is a large, healthy woman, well able to take all that he has to give her, by way of cock, by way of action.
So that he is her fucker, concentrating on socking it to her.
So that he is her lover of the moment, giving of himself to her totally.
So that he and she are joined in perfect communication.
His cock is transmitting message after message of lascivious sensation, of intimate, erotic delight, of fulfillment.
Her cunt is receiving thrill after thrill, each thrust, each withdrawal a surge of sexual electricity; each stronger than the last.
Because it is clear to both of them that they are building and building, becoming hotter and hotter merely his`liead, handsome profile turned sideways, eyes closed, tongue extended, that she can see, her legs hiding the rest of him.
But he can tell that she wants a good look at him.
And now, he accommodates her, pulling back, sitting back, ass to heels as he crouches there, then straightens up, resting on his knees.
So that she has a full, unobstructed view of his upper body and at the cock which now rises stiffly from his bush, a thick, long flagpole, the dark, ruddy eye of the head looking back at her.
And she takes him in, all of him.
The best ever!
And he knows that this is what she is thinking.
Because she may have had bigger, if only in size of cock, body, or both, but she hasnever had it this well put together.
No question.
He gives her a good, long look, suggestively toying with his prick with one hand as he watches her watching him.
He grins knowingly.
And now, he is leaning forward, one hand bracing his body, planted firmly in the bed beside one massive thigh, which she has raises as she spreads her legs wide, preparing to receive him.
And he does not keep her waiting.
Because now, he is moving forward, one hand guiding his mighty prod toward its target.
And now, he is inserting himself into her.
He has a big cock, but she has a big cunt, one which receives him quite easily So that he shafts smoothly into the hot, wet depths of her cunt, which seems almost to reach out and grasp him in its juicy, pressurized embrace.
And now, he is fucking her, pumping up and down, causing her body to bounce heavily on the bed, legs bent at the knees, welcoming him, again and again, welcoming each thrust.
And now, he accelerates.
And he is fucking her faster and harder.
She is a large, healthy woman, well able to take all that he has to give her, by way of cock, by way of action.
So that he is her fucker, concentrating on socking it to her.
So that he is her lover of the moment, giving of himself to her totally.
So that he and she are joined in perfect communication.
His cock is transmitting message after message of lascivious sensation, of intimate, erotic delight, of fulfillment.
Her cunt is receiving thrill after thrill, each thrust, each withdrawal a surge of sexual electricity; each stronger than the last.
Because it is clear to both of them that they are building and building, becoming hotter and hotter as they rise higher and higher up the rainbow of their shared pleasure.
Because both of them know where they are headed.
It is a place they have been manytimes before, - the paradise of sex, the realm of the pleasure beyond pleasure.
And it is ever familiar, ever novel, always wonderful, the ultimate pleasure which their", bodies are capable of experiencing.
So that now they experience that odd combination of hunger and satisfaction as they ascend, level by level.
So that their very bodies are drooling for the next delicious increment of their ever-mounting sensation.
And for the next and the next.
And he is able to bring her right along. Up and up and up they rise.
And there is no stopping them now.
They are a perfect team.
They are two halves of a flawlessly functioning machine.
And its function is to seek out and find the pleasure beyond pleasure, a task made all the easier by the fact that, in the end, it will find them.
So that there is that combination of opposites at work within them now.
Excitement is mingled with calm.
Hunger and satisfaction are stair-stepping each other.
And relaxation is combined with intensity of effort.
All these things are working within them at one and the same time.
And now, the pleasure beyond pleasure comes to them.
It has been summoned from their innermost depths.
And now balloons to fill them to their capacity to contain it.
And they hover at the peak for along moment. And then They are coming and coming, a release from the very cores of their being, a surge of ultimate satisfaction, a moment-of sensational truth.
Up, up, up over the rainbow they go.
Higher and higher, soaring through the sexual empyrian.
. - And the twinges, the spasms of their shared climax convulse their bodies, again and again. Becoming quieter and quieter.
Until they float gently back down to earth. And they linger their, plastered together by their shared sweat, recovering overin their breath.
And there is no thought at the moment.
All is a whirl of relaxation and deep, deep satisfaction.
And they are not eager to separate, their aroused sexual energy now dissipated, leaving them more or less limp.
And their breathing slowly returns to normal, their sweat beginning to dry, making them itch. He dismounts.
And stand beside her, offering her a hand out of the bed.
She accepts, grasping it as she slowly rises.
And they put an arm around each others' waists, going into the bathroom together, awkwardly turning while still embraced, she slightly ahead of him so that they can get through the doorway.
She runs the shower and he joins her,. standing in the tub, overcrowding it with the size of the two of them.
And now, flesh brushes lasciviously against flesh, slippery now with soap and water.
And their eyes wander over the contours of each others' bodies, she all undulating curves, he blocks of muscle.
It is often said that opposites attract.
And that is certainly true in this case.
They have nothing in common except the fallacy, the convention of race, their very disparateness revealing the untruth of this.
And the attraction is there, unmistakably. Because there is none of what she feared. Which is that, his nuts once popped, he having "scored" on her, he would not linger there, would, on the contrary, be most anxious to leave, getting on with life.
That, or the other thing which she has seen and recognized, post-coital depression, even though she does not know the term.
In which, nuts popped, the handsome stud gives her a look of such revulsion that she knows he can only be thinking, "What have I done!?"
But no, he sees something in her that he truly wants-still.
So that she is most careful to scrub herself up thoroughly, especially concentrating on the parts that count, where everything comes together.
As she asks herself, Dare I think? Dare I hope that he will actually-naw.
Too much.
Too much to ask, to expect.
Still, he did eat her pussy.
Got right down there, down to business, he did. And enjoyed himself thoroughly, every minute. And is looking at her even now with desire, his mind racing ahead of his cock, obviously.
And really, really wants her.
She returns to that point, dwells on it in her mind.
And she is the other half of this duet of desire. Because she too has had men that she wanted when she was hot and did not after she was satisfied, it being her hominess and not their charm which gave the green light to the action.
And, truth to tell, King is so far above that level of activity that she would still have taken some satisfaction in having had him, even should he in fact have washed quickly, gotten dressed and left her without so much as a goodbye.
So that now, yes, she will risk hope, even knowing that it might be dashed, that round two will be a mere rerun of round one.