Chapter 2
"Very nice tan."
"Thank you, Juanita."
"Any messages?"
"Uh, deed Meester Cheeper ge' hole of joo down there?"
"No, he didn't. Why?"
"He say he no gonna he able to come home for a' leas' another mont'.
"He say he try to reach joo, hut I guess joo were already onna way hack here."
"I guess."
So, she thinks. Mister International Finance strikes again.
Once more, she is on her own for longer than originally intended.
"Deejoo catch de launch?" Juanita asks.
"The what?"
"De space chuttle! Was on all de news."
"Uh, no, no I didn't. Guess I'll wait for the book."
Juanita looks at her, puzzled, then shrugs and starts to go on about her business.
"Anything important happen while I was gone?" Cynthia asks.
Hey, Juanita thinks, if the shuttle isn't important, what is?
"Uh, no."
Cynthia, leafing through the mail, continues, "Did Steve call?"
"No. Joo cancel de service ontil joo ge' back, remember?"
"So I did, so I-did."
"And Bruce?"
"No."
Bruce calls her every once in a while, just to see how things are going, whether or not she has any up and coming needs for his services, or sometimes to entice her with a new "find" for his stable.
He is always interesting to speak with.
At one time, she even considered taking on the big, light-skinned black as a serious relationship, but she could not separate him from his business in her mind.
And besides, he is more valuable to her as a procurer.
Yes, she sighs to herself, it would seem that, when it comes to sex, she is destined to be a client forever.
What to do, what to do, what to do?
And the question, for which she has no answer, continues to hammer at her.
Sulkily, she flops on the overupholstered couch in the sunken living room of the penthouse, ignoring the skyline of the city through the picture window as she turns on the TV with the remote.
"... and with this successful launch, NASA, the National Aeronau-"
Click!
"... an' we was all jest awatchin' an' aprayin' 'at nuthin' lak whut happent last tarn-" Click!
"... so that with this revised seal, there was virtually no possibility that the O-rings would repeat their failu-"
Click!
"... Welcome to the Sports Channel!
"Where we bring you this exclusive interview with the the current heavyweight champion, Teddy Robinson, and the challenger, Spike Johnson.
"Over to you, Howard."
"Thanks, Ray. "First, the challenger.
"Tell me, Spike, with the fight less than a month away, and given the champ's perfect record, mostly by knockouts, how do you see it going down?"
"Ah teh ya, Howart, onlies' thang ah sees goin' down is Teddy!
"Me an' ma trainah, we studied the dude, Howart!
"Ah mean, we looked at the cat in fas' motion, in slow motion, evah which way.
"Man's got some weaknesses won' quit?"
"Could you be a little more specific, Spike?"
Crafty grin.
"Hey, ah jus' wanna give the dude somethin' ta worry 'bout, not pointers gon' he'p 'im none. Thass why he gots a trainah, aft'all."
"Then can you tell me this, Spike: Will it be a long fight or a short one?"
"Gonna las' one secont aftah his fois' mistake, is all ah'm gonna say."
"That's all?"
Spike shrugs.
"Hi Mom?"
They laugh.
"Thank you, Spike Johnson. "Now, the champ. "Teddy Robinson. "Theodore Lewis Robinson. "Champ.
"You've heard Spike's remarks.
"What do you think? Is he serious, is he trying to psych you out, what?"
Come on, boy, say something profound, Cynthia thinks, her voice in her mind sarcastic.
Teddy thinks it over.
And chuckles before replying, "Little bit of both, I think, Howard.
"He thinks he's trying to mess with my mind, but actually, there are some things I have to work on.
"But I doubt that Spike or his trainer have the necessary perception to pick up on them.
"Let me assure you, however, that I have, as has Tony.
"I intend to win.
"Never having lost and having faced opponents who, at least as far as their records go, seem far more formidable than Spike, I think I'm a reasonably safe bet."
And Cynthia is drawn to the screen with increasing interest.
Maybe, she thinks, the reason he looks like a pinhead is because his shoulders are so broad.
Because he certainly doesn't sound like one.
Perception? Formidable?
And it was not a prepared speech.
She listens with half an ear as Howard Ruff's annoying voice continues to question the champ.
She looks at Teddy, at his mannerisms, his tone, more than what he is saying.
She knows nothing about the man.
And this fact sounds a note of caution in her mind.
He looks so good because I know so little about him.
Familiarity breeds contempt. Above all when it comes to men, has been her experience. Still-
"On a personal note, champ, and I've known you for a number of years, but for the benefit of the listening audience, are you married?"
"No, and I have no serious attachments of any kind, Howard.
"I do date occasionally."
"Inspiration for you ladies out there, I would say, right, Teddy?"
"Please, no cards, no letters!" They laugh.
"You have a family, close relatives."
"My trainer and my manager, Howard. "And I adopted them." They laugh again.
And Cynthia finds herself genuinely interested now.
She has made out her check list for her ideal man, half in jest, half in self mockery.
But now, Teddy is looking a lot like a serious candidate.
And what Cynthia wants-Still, there is always a first time. Although, thus far, she and the champ both have perfect records.
And she is not yet a hundred percent sure that she does.
Want him, that is.
On the other hand, if he really is merely dating casually right now, where's the harm? A project worth doing. Something to do. And she decides. She will work on it.
He has no serious commitments? He only dates occasionally? What is this shit?
That boy an' me are definitely going to have to have a talk.
Thus thinks Virginia-Ginny Mae, as she is called here at the training camp. She is black, but not very. Indeed, she is much, much lighter than Teddy. And she is beautiful. Men have told her this. A lot of men.
Tony the trainer did.
When he gave her this opportunity.
Which, as he pointed out to her, certainly was an improvement over working the counter at Burger King, which is where he "discovered" her.
At first, she thought he was kidding, putting her on.
So that she was wide-eyed, speechless, when Tony actually produced the champ himself, right there at the counter.
But she was a self-confident girl.
So she recovered quickly.
And she and the champ hit it off right away.
So that she became his unofficial mistress.
He sleeps with her at night.
And does not know that, once a week, she gets a paycheck from Tony.
Who also makes sure that the birth control problem is being handled.
For services rendered, ha ha.
And yes, Ginny Mae knows that she is hired help.
Still, even hired help has rights.
Nightfall.
And they are in bed. And Teddy is elated. His country is once more in space. He even forgives Tony for his pettiness, his blindness at not seeing how important this is. He is in a very good mood.
And they even aired his interview with Howard Ruff today.
He came across as intelligent and professional, whereas his. opponent was clearly, as Tony would say, a cavone.
Which Teddy---likes to think of as the Italian equivalent of "caveman".
Face it Spike, he thinks, grinning, you are a chimp.
And now, this.
She is smooth and creamy and beautiful and voluptuous.
And she has been a real comfort to him. Because she takes the edge off, keeps his head cool.
But now, she does not respond as he snuggles up to her.
Puzzled, he props his head up on one hand, running a finger idly down her spine, into the crack between her generous buttocks.
Angrily, she pumps her hips, moving away from him.
"Something wrong, Ginny Mae."
"Not if you call this an 'occasional date', there ain't."
"Oh, so that's it!
"Understand one thing, Ginny Mae, and that is that I got a public image to maintain. "What I tell the media's got nothin' to do with what happens between you an' me.
"You know yourself I'm not seein' other people.
"And you sure as hell know that there's nothin' occasional about what you an' me do every night.
"So what is your problem?"
"Where do I stand with you?"
"Where do you-hey! What is this?"
"That's what I'd like to know!
"What is it with you an' me, Teddy?"
"What you see is what choo get."
"An' that's it."
"Well baby, what else can there he?
"I'm the heavyweight champ, gettin' ready to defend the title and-wait a minute.
"What the fuck am I doing?
"Listen, kid. I don't have to justify myself to no-body!
"You here so you here.
"It is what it is.
"Take it or leave it."
She turns over, facing him.
And he sees the defiance die in her eyes.
She goes limp.
But that is not good enough.
"Listen, babe, I don't want anybody here who doesn't wanna be.
"I want happy people on my team."
"Your, your ... team?"
"Fuck you think this is, Never-never Land?
"Get with it.
"This is a team effort, centered-by necessity, necessity, you understand?-on me.
"You wanna face Spike Johnson next month, I'll be on your team and we'll all concentrate on servicing you, okay?"
Team effort. Servicing.
Her head swims with anger and disappointment.
She has a function not that much different from a sparring partner.
Nothing less, perhaps, but certainly nothing more.
Still, how could it be. She has seen him in ecstasy. She has put him in ecstasy. And it was no act, either. She can tell.
So that there were moments-many moments, and often much longer than mere moments-when there was only the two of them, man and woman, and the passion they shared.
And it would not have mattered if he was a shipping clerk or an African king.
But now, he is singing a different song.
And she dares not even show how hurt she is by this.
She turns away, so that he will not see the tears. Because she has seen him this way before. Coldly logical, eminently reasonable-and capable of the most profound disgust with those who were not.
And she supposes that, in a way, he has a point.
He is the champ at all times, whether sparring or throwing a fuck.
And she had obviously been wrong to think that, like other jobs, his had an off duty state.
She sees now that it does not-ever.
So that what was intended as a privilege and an honor, in return for the satisfaction of certain needs and desires has been misconstrued by her as quite something else.
But she cannot help it.
She tries to get hold of herself and fails.
So that she cannot turn and face him.
And he will not tolerate her melting into him in tears.
Far from gaining her sympathy, it will almost surely lead to instant rejection.
And now, a probing finger seeks the depths of the crack of her ass.
And she is careful to lie there, to allow it.
Knowing that mere permission, mere tolerance is hardly what he is after.
She has had anal sex with him before.
But it was playful, the two of them laughing, chuckling as he helped himself to mouthfuls of her freshly scrubbed ass cheeks, even of her immaculately clean ass hole.
That's right, the world champion had actually -rimmed her.
And prepped her thoroughly, using baby oil on one finger and then two.
So that there was no discomfort as he shafted into her, his hands playing with her tits, with her cunt as he fucked her faster and faster, strumming her clit as he came so that she too experienced a series of orgasms.
But now, it is different.
He is different.
He is a presence behind her, his proximity merely physical.
He is simply there, as opposed to being "with" her.
And now, his finger probes the center of her star.
But he does not shift position in the bed.
Only his finger, with a powerful, spiral motion, moves in, in, into her.
So that she is forced to relax her anal sphincter.
Because, tight or loose, in he goes.
And his finger passes the knot, the ring of resistance.
So that he feels the heat, the moisture, the soft, yielding tissues of her rectum.
As he rolls his finger round and round, widening her ass hole.
And she feels discomfort as a second finger joins the first.
Where was his mouth?
Where is the oil? Where is-oh, no!
Because suddenly he withdraws the fingers.
And yanks her hips roughly up in the air.
So that she is on all fours.
Maybe it's all right, she tells herself.
He is a little pissed off so he doesn't want to look her in the face.
He will fuck her from behind, but not in the behind.
He will-like shit he will!
Because now she feels it against the slackened, finger-violated entrance to her ass hole.
It.
His huge knob, with its battering ram head and thick flange.
And there is no question as to what is coming next.
Because he pushes in, holding his monster cock with one hand, the other on the belled flare of one of her hips, holding her steady.
And she moans as he buttons the head inside her ass hole.
And it is not comfortable.
She is uncomfortably stretched back there, not really ready for him.
But, ready or not, here it comes.
Because now, his hand reenforcing the corkscrew motion of his hips, he is inserting his mighty shaft further and further into her ass.
And it does not get any easier.
Not for her, at least.
Because the massive head is making its way into her depths, going deeper and deeper.
And the shaft, long and thick and hard, does not permit her rectum to do what it wants to.
Which is to expel him.
And what her body wants, her mind wants still more urgently. But it is no good.
He is into her more and more with each passing second.
And they seem to pass very slowly for her.
As the agony takes shape-long, deep, tubular.
So that it is not the warm, intimate, lascivious pleasure of ass fucking that usually radiates outward from the cylinder of her rectum.
It is painful.
And he does not make it any easier for her. As he accelerates too fast.
So that, very quickly, he is reaming her with his rampant intruder as hard as he can, hanging onto her hips with both hands.
So that it does not even have to be her.
It does not even have to be a girl in this bed with him.
It could be anyone.
It could be any ass hole.
And perhaps that is the message he intends.
Because she has acted like an ass hole and is even now reaping an ass hole's reward.
This is little better than a rape.
She does not feel in the least sexy; she feels victimized.
Even when her ass hole manages to accommodate him without the sharp, piercing lightning bolts of pain that characterized the beginning of his vicious ass fucking.
Because that has to be blood which lubricates the action.
And he does not hold back.
She can feel the grip of his powerful hands, digging into the soft surfaces of her hips.
In fact, they hurt more than her rectum at the moment.
Although the pain has not been replaced by pleasure.
Rather, it is an awareness of a strange, a foreign body moving around within her, a sense of otherness, of something in her but not of her and not under her control.
And it is obvious that he intends to drive her all the way.
And all she can do is crouch here and take it. And she does.
And she feels the contractions, the spasms of his big cock as he comes deep inside her.
And she feels him as he pulls out.
And she collapses forward on the bed, not wanting to Iwk at him.
In the. event, she does not have to worry about that.
Because, suddenly, she hears the heavy, wooden door of the room open and close. And she is alone.
And now, looking down, she sees the reddish-brown stain spreading slowly from her asshole, where she sits, onto the sheet.
And she holds the cheeks of her ass together with both hands as she makes her way to the shower.
And forces herself to stand under the full force of the cold water, bent over, cheeks spread, wincing as the water strikes the fissures.
Tony hears the knocking on his door.
And opens it, shocked to see Teddy standing there, naked, his cock long and shiny with reddish slime.
"Teddy! What, what-"
"Gimme a towel. I gotta use your shower.
"But Teddy-"
"Never mind!" he snarls.
And stalks into Tony's bathroom.
And Tony stands there, nonplussed, as the drumming of the water against the metal walls of the shower stall fills the room.
And puts a pair of pants on over his boxer shorts, and then a t-shirt.
And Teddy reminds him of a panther, a large, dark, dangerous wild animal, as he bends and twists, drying himself.
And Teddy emerges, midsection wrapped now in the towel he used.
"Wanna ... talk about it?" Tony asks, not entirely sure he even wants to hear this.
"Ginny Mae."
"Yes? What about Ginny Mae."
"In the morning. "Out of here."
"Why?"
"Because I say so, dammit!
"You have one of the guys drive her back to town, or wherever she wants.
"She wants a fuckin' plane ticket, have 'im take 'er to the fuckin' airport.
"Whatever.
"I don't care where she goes, as long as its not within a hundred miles of here.
"I don't wanna see her, I don't wanna hear from her again. Not ever, you got that?"
"Yeah, sure.
"You, uh, you wanna sleep here tonight?
"I'll move out to the game room couch, if you want."
"No, that's okay, Tone. "I'll sleep out there. "In the morning, she's gone, right."
"You got it-Fuck it, Tony thinks. I'm gonna worry about some spade bimbo?
Still, he wonders what she has done to set Teddy off.