Quickie

I don't like church at all.

So when they rise and testify, I don't and when they pass the collection plate by me, I don't put anything in it.

The nasty looks I get don't help.

I'm sitting at the end of pew next to the aisle. The horrible green carpet is more interesting than sweating, over-weight, black man who constantly wipes his brow with ornate kerchief as he paces back and forth behind the pulpit, espousing nonsense to his flock. The call and response is rhythmic, practiced. None of it is spiritual, just like none of these overly decorative flora hats these women wear.

I hate religion but that's not why I'm real pissed.

Its the young woman next to me wearing one of those awful hats in wine red with a matching double breasted suit coat and dress to match. Every time there's an amen or something like that to be had, she fans herself and sounds off, but not enough that it appears uncultured or disingenuous. All of her moves are dainty and poised as if she takes time out to practice every motion.

And I hate her. God how I hate her or maybe I just hate what she represents.

When we get out of service(with her taking fifteen minutes to talk to the pastor and his deacons)I meet at the bottom of the stairs. She shoots me a funny look, apparently not approving of me wearing a tee shirt, blazer, and jeans to this facade then takes her time walking over to me, her heels barely making a sound as she gets near me. I can't help but notice that the pastor is checking out her posterior.

I'm glad to be driving her home. Spending a Sunday at church was horrible. I felt like the green house looked next to it; disheveled, old, crumbling. Why I let my mother talk me in to this I'll never know. "Are we not stopping somewhere to eat?"

"Nah. I got something I need to do."

"Or someone." I struggle to keep my face neutral. I'm trying hard not to zoom down 46 as I turn on it. I just got to get her to Heathrow. "Oh come now," She says as she adjusts her make up. "everyone in Sanford knows about you and your mother is pretty forthright with what you do. Even your gray hair is infamous Silver." She chuckled. "I like that name. So much less dramatic than Giancarlo, though it is quite," And if you can believe it, she actually scrunched her button nose in disgust. "ghetto."

"And Benita is so much more sophisticated."

Her eyes narrowed. "It means blessed and it is not ghetto. You're older than me Silver you should be above such pettiness."

"Don't throw stones if you live in a glass house."

"Mine is made of brick thank you." We were passing the BP and Sav-A-Lot. It would be a straight shot to her house almost. It was hot and I had since tossed my blazer in the back. The windows were down and I though I could've turn on the AC I wasn't going to. Benita had taken off her hat by now, showing her red brown mini-fro and hazel eyes. She shot me a disapproving look. "You have AC." she said as she fanned herself. "You should use it."

"Don't worry. I will when I drop you off." That made her laugh and it sounded like everything else she did, practiced.

"You are such a whit Silver. Not to mention rudderless, unambitious, and a total man-whore." She sighed pleased with her barb. If I could kick her out the car, now, while I was driving, I would have. "Why do our parents insist we try and date each other?"

"I have no idea."

"I guess we're both problem children in our own way so they figure we'd go well together." After that she started to go through her cellphone, typical behavior for someone around twenty-three though what she said settled on me. How could someone as well-behaved as Benita be a problem child?

"The gyal wild like you are. Yuh should like she."

I don't know why I still talk to my mother. Or why I have to be high when I do. Somehow though, I've managed to get up the courage to talk to her about this hook-up thing with Benita. She had to damn near tell me she was dying to get me to agree to going with a nice church girl though she was quick to point out she was just "black" instead of Trini.

Church had been our second "date", the first being at one of the many parties that Benita's mother, Pearl throws. That was horrible; everybody was asking why I hadn't had kids yet or better still, why I hadn't been to church(gotta be saved ya know). Of course I couldn't tell them I had a vasectomy and that they're weren't going to be any or that I thought religion was a centuries old hustle used to control the masses.

And Benita was just a brat. A brat that knew she could be one. I was fetching drinks and being tugged along while she made small talk and alienated other people(How was your abortion? Not too many complications I hope)which would have been fun if I hadn't been one of them.

Which is why I'm trying to break it to her that its not working. "Ma," I take a breath seeing her face in my mind. The hard set of her jaw. Her long fingers folded in preparation for what I was going to say. "Its not working out. The party. Church-"

"Yuh should go to church more. She's good for that-"

"Ma." I have to stop her before she gets going or I never will. "I'm not having this conversation with you. I've tried this blind date for you and-"she tried to cut-in but I stopped her. "-and I'm not doing it. Its just pointless OK. It really is."

"OK." I can see her nodding a bit to herself with her short Claire Huxtable coif she has yet to get rid of. "One more time Giancarlo. One more time and I will leave it alone."

"You promise?"

"I do. For me son. Try."

Finally we go to a bar. The Sanford Alehouse by the mall, which is good because its a hop, skip, and a jump away from her place. When it goes south(and it will)I'll be able to drop her off and head back home for a smoke.

Since its Friday and there's a UFC match on, the place is packed with drunk, excitable people of all different walks of life intent on seeing a couple of submissions while yukkiing up with friends and potential bed buddies.

Of course Benita wasn't having fun. She had come overdressed, coskel as my mother would say, in an black evening gown with sequins and modest pumps. We couldn't get a table really and so we were at the bar. "I thought we were going to a lounge." She pouted over the din of people.

"Lounge. Bar. What's the difference?" Of course I knew the difference and so did she. She rolled her eyes and ordered a Sex On The Beach which surprised me since I didn't think she'd drink.

"You're paying for these right?" She asked after her third one. I wasn't drinking or eating for that matter though seeing De Silva beat the crap out of a guy was more than enough to make up for it. I waved her off; we weren't even talking really so buying her drinks seemed innocent enough until I had to pick up the tab and be reminded why I didn't do the Alehouse often.

After a few turns in Heathrow and trying not to be pull over by Sanford PD, I pull up a four bedroom, brick monstrosity(I guess she was right about that part) perched on a manicured hill with plants around it I couldn't name. It had a circular brick and stone, drive way with her cream colored Lexus parked but not her mother's Pathfinder nor her father's Escalade.

Didn't matter to me though, I was dropping her off. She got out my car shakily and there it was again. That big, round, jiggly backside that I only enjoyed when she was walking off somewhere. If she wasn't so intolerable, I might enjoy it. Unfortunately, she is just that.

When she closes the door, she turns around, leaning on it, her alcohol tinged giggles permeating the inside of Bonaparte. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I snap.

"You've got weed." I must look shocked because she laughs and says. "That's a yes Silver. You have weed, somewhere, on you right now I bet. You'd probably fog up this little thing if you could."

"Look I-" She reached over and turned my ignition off. Thank God I had it in park. The alcohol had mixed in with her perfume, making her smell sweet and tart. I couldn't help but look at her chest. Two mouthfuls with hershey kiss nipples.

"Smoke with me and stop being difficult."

The Hampton's had more scratch than I bargained for which lead me to believe that Terrel Hampton Senior was more than just a preacher. Their dining room had a chandelier that was made of actual crystal prompting me to ask about it only for Benita to get annoyed. Apparently, answering questions while on tour of her house was a normal thing.

She had kicked her shoes off at the front door and thus was padding around in her stockings. The same went for her hip little pocket book. In some ways, she seemed to change, save for the snarky attitude.

Her patio was stunning of course, all marble floors, screened in with a stone fireplace and chairs about. The pool was lit up contrasting with the humid night as crickets chirped in her yard.

Benita sat down in a lounge chair watching me as she giggled to herself. I started rolling something up as the sound of their artificial waterfall trickled in the background. "You annoy your mother a lot you know."

"Come again?" I was already sealing the joint. I gave it to her, taking care of watching how she handled. Benita leaned forward as I lit.

"You heard me." She took a pull and laid back, blowing it into the air. "You annoy her. She always complains about how much potential you have and how you waste it. Personally, I do the same to my parents but in a different way."

"So this is the part where I ask just how you do it?" I got the joint back. The moon was full and it made her light brown skin glow. Her dress was around her thighs. Benita had pulled it up on purpose. She smiled smoothly and chuckled when she caught me.

"Yes. This is the part Silver where I tell you that my life is not as perfect as it seems." I passed it back and she looked up into the sky, eyes far away. "My parents hate each other. Both of them are cheating but for appearances sake they're together. I can tell you that they always want me to be sophisticated, to enunciate every word, to be good and perfect at all times."

She looked over to me I shrugged when I got the joint. "Ah but you've been down this road before so there's nothing new I'm telling you huh? So I guess I'll get to the heart of it; I'ma spoiled rich girl that likes getting what I want. From them. From everybody. From you."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. It is." She got up from the lounge chair and disappeared into the house then emerged with handcuffs covered in fur. "Mommy's." She answered one of my non-voiced question.

The second was why she was naked. "Do you want to fuck me Silver? And don't lie to me. I can tell."

A slight bush indicating that the carpet matched the drapes. Smooth, unblemished skin so light and pale I could see where she blushed.. Benita was short and stacked, her nipples already hard and inviting. She turned around and wiggled a bit to accentuate that yes, her ass was amazing and it would look even more so while I fucked her. "There's a catch." I managed to say with a smile.

"I want it my way first. Then, if I feel like it, your way but I'm cuffing you to this chair first." She walked over as if I had already agreed(which I had to myself). I lay on the chair, putting my hands under it where she cuffed me. "You must be experienced in this." She quipped. "A bit of BDSM in your history?"

"Hmmm. Maybe." She was straddling my face before I knew, smothering me in fact. I licked as she wiggled her hips over my lips and tongue.

"I don't want to see your face-" She gasped. I kept finding her clit no matter how she moved. Rosa had given me enough practice. "I don't want to see your fucking face you nasty fucker. Just eat my pussy while I smother you with my ass and thighs-Oh yeah-Yes, yes, yes. Give it to me you bitch. Use your goddamn mouth."

And I was too. Benita gripped the front of the chair, bouncing a little when it got good, berating me for not making her come faster. Not that I mind that; whatever gets you off I always say but it did say something about her. She liked being in control because she didn't feel she was. Her parents ran her life like mine had tried to do me.

"You wanna cum huh?" She had turned around and now her head faced my feet. She unzipped me and started jacking me off. Benita let some spit drip on me. I could feel it but not see it as she still rode my face. "Look how fucking hard you are you little pervert. Getting off on me cumming on your face." She squeezed and jacked me slow. "Nasty. You're so fucking nasty." Benita had slowed down enough for me to eat her properly.

And boy did I ever. Benita cursed and insulted me but she was moving her pussy up and down my face real slow while she did, whispering and moaning as she was getting closer and closer before she hopped up turning to face me. "You want me to cum when you want but I cum when I want." She licked my face which would of been weird under other circumstances but I could tell she was tasting herself and from her smile, I could tell she liked it. She lifted my chin as she kissed me.

It didn't take her long to roll on my condom. "Bet you thought I was going to suck your dick didn't you?" She straddled and eased on top me really slow. She was tight, super tight or else I was really big for her. "Fuck you." She caught me smiling and grabbed by the chin so she could lay a wet kiss on me. "You think you've got a big dick and that's all you need don't you?" She pulled my face to hers. "Answer me."

"No. I think you've got a tight pussy that hasn't seen any action in awhile." I lifted my hips and pushed inside of her. She wasn't ready for it and she yelped.

And I didn't stop. She was riding me, I was jack hammering her, smacking hard as I thrust upwards in her. I didn't give Benita a chance to say or do anything. She was still tight but she was dripping wet, the sound of pushing past her pussy lips getting squishier with each stroke.

I could brag but then I'd be distracted from watching here B-cups bounce up and down with the rest of her. Benita's head was back and she screamed and growled. "Mother. Fucker. Fuck. Me. Shit-" A breath then she started to shake. She bent back, supporting herself on her arms as I kept moving. "I'm cumming! Oh shit! You bitch! You mother-unghhh!" My dick popped out of her when she nutted. Benita sat on the end of the lounge chair, collecting herself when I told her to suck my dick.

She snatched it off and did just what I said. I could tell Benita wasn't super experienced; she took a little at a time. Not much tongue and she gagged a lot but she tried and tried until she just stopped and started jacking me.

"You think you're pretty clever I bet." She squeezed and kneaded. Up and down. Head she wasn't great at but handjobs she had experience. "You surprised me. That's all."

"And not many men do that do they?" I was trying to keep my cool as i kept eye contact with her. Her skin was glowing though she was flushed. "Surprise you I mean?"

"Maybe."

"You're hedging."

She licked the underside of my head experimentally. It felt so good I almost forgot where I was. "And what if I am?"

"Then it means you always fuck guys but don't let them fuck you. You like control and power because it makes you feel safe." She frowned a little and laughed. "I'm right."

"You are."

"Don't even have to suck them off do you?"

"They're happy with my pussy and ass." She cocked her head to the side trying her best to look innocent. "Aren't you?"

"I will when you let me fuck you."

She smiled then got the key to open the handcuffs.