Chapter Six
Tibbs retired upstairs with Lana after Miles had finished cleaning her pussy. Miles excused himself and went to the corridor where they had a spare bathroom and washed his face off then went into the kitchen to fetch two more Coors before returning to join Saul in the living room. Their conversation sounded somewhat awkward. Saul was tongue-tied with what he had in mind to say; his mind was still reeling from what he’d seen take place before him minutes ago. Miles laughed as if nothing had happened. He picked up the bed and folded it to one side of the living room. From upstairs came the familiar sound of a bed board banging against the wall and his wife screaming out with joy and pain at whatever was attacking her. Both men sipped their beer in silence while they listened to the music of fucking penetrating their ears from upstairs. Saul wondered if the people next door would be privy to Lana’s screams too.
“Mind if we talk outside?” Miles said, getting up.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Saul picked up his beer along with the DVD disc he’d arrived with. The sound of Tibbs fucking his wife seemed to follow them as they opened the screen door and stepped out into the early evening sun.
“What you got on your mind, neighbour?”
Miles sipped his beer. They stood under the shade of a tree by the left front of his house, the branches crossed over the picket fence of the compound of the new face on their street, Roberta. Saul looked across his street just in time to see his wife arrive from work.
Saul divulged to him everything regarding his new job. Saul sipped his beer and listened, expressing interest when the topic went into the three men who’d gang-banged Errol’s wife. He’d crackled and slapped his knee when Saul told him how the boys had brought Errol out from the closet to clean his wife’s pussy when they’d done cumming inside her.
“Damn, that’s some hot tale you got there, Saul,” Miles swallowed his beer. “Is this all real? I can’t believe Errol would do stuff like this what with Tibbs banging his woman.”
“He made a recording of it, and it’s what I’ve got here,” Saul gave him the disc. “I thought you’d like to see it if you think I’m telling tall tales.”
Miles took the disc from him. “I wasn’t doubting you, Saul. So what you thinking of now - how to get some of the couples around to go with it?”
Saul shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. You’ve got more clout with them than I do. I figure I’d come see you about this first so maybe we can think of how to get the others involved.”
“You mean the ones that were at my bash last week.”
“Yes, them.”
Saul thought of it for a moment. “I can’t sell it all down, though I can ask them to give you a call or maybe let you talk with them about it. The rest is going to be up to you.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“You wouldn’t mind giving a neighbour friend the hook-up too, would you?” Miles asked him. “This looks like something I know Lana would like to get involved in.”
“Talk it out with her and maybe later give me a call and I’ll see about getting your papers tomorrow to sign up.”
Saul finished his beer and they shook hands once more before he left him, hurrying across the street back to his home.
Later that evening Saul and Jessie got a surprise visit from their next-door neighbour Ralph and Ashley Micklen. They came with a bottle of red wine, saying they were there to celebrate Ralph’s recent job promotion to head consultant at his company.
They were in the den chatting when Saul’s phone rang out from the library room where he’d left it to charge. He went to pick it up and an unusual drumming came upon his heart when he recognised Miles’ number calling. He sneaked around the corridor back way and went up the stairs to answer the call.
“Hi there, Miles,” he answered with a low voice as he went up the stairs into the bedroom.
“Hi there, Saul. Want to let you know I called up Dave Schepsi. You remember Dave, right? Lives a few houses down from yours, over on Ringo Avenue. I got to talking to him about what you and I discussed and I think I might have sealed the deal with him.”
“Yeah, I remember Dave being at your party. He really sounded interested?”
“Well, I could say that. I gave him your number and he said he’s going to call you soon after to find out more.”
“Yeah, you did really fine with that, Miles. I really appreciate it.” He stooped to check out the door before adding, “Is Lana still fucking Tibbs?”
“No,” his friend said. “Tibbs left some minutes ago. I’m giving her a warm bath right now. I did also tell her about what you told me and we even watched Errol’s movie. Fucking awesome. She too wants the TP fellows.”
“No problem, Miles. I’ll get the papers over to you tomorrow.”
They talked for a while before signing off. It was a good thing too because at that moment Jessie was coming upstairs in search of him.
An hour later while they were in the living room sipping more of the wine and Jessie had gone into the kitchen to make them some popcorn, Saul received another phone call, this time from a number he wasn’t familiar with. He answered it and it turned out to the Dave Schepsi calling. He excused himself from his guests and this time went in the opposite direction out the front door to answer the call.
“Hi there Dave,” he said as he closed the front door behind him.
“Hi Saul. Listen, I got a call from Miles a while ago, telling me about this something you can do,” his voice sounded conspiratorial. “Something you can help me and my wife Amy with. You get what I mean?”
“I do get what you mean, Dave. And Miles was right, I sure can help. But that depends on whether I’ve got your attention.”
“Fire away, buddy.”
“I’ve got a group of fellas, they’re black, and whatever fantasy you’ve got in mind, they can deliver. Do you think you can drop by my place tomorrow and I can pay you a visit later so we can discuss it?”
“How about you drop by my office?”
They talked for some minutes before ending their conversation. Saul went back into the house to join his wife and their next-door neighbours.
Later that evening, Jessie sat up on the bed reading a novel while Saul stepped out of the bathroom having just showered, drying his neck and shoulders with a towel.
“What do you think about Ralph?” Jessie put down her book and asked him.
“What can I say except kudos to him getting his promotion, whatever. Though it was a surprise seeing them today. I hope this means he’s going to be spending much time at home with Ashley.”
“I spoke with Ashley earlier in the day. She mentioned the job promo to me, but she didn’t sound happy about it.”
“Could she be wrong?” Saul hung the towel on a door knob and came to join her on the bed.
“I don’t think so, darling. She sounded quite depressed. I’ll see about making some time out with her later on.”
“Yeah, you see to that, babe. In the meantime, how about you and I giving ourselves some sugar tonight?”
She turned to look at him. “You think you can handle this here body of mine tonight?”
“Give me a chance, and I’ll win the Daytona 500 tonight,” he grinned.
She cast aside her book. “Okay, buster. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”
Saul didn’t win the Daytona 500 that night. But to his thinking, he came close. To Jessie, he was miles from the finishing line, but she didn’t make it known to him. Now wasn’t the time anyway.
***
The following Thursday morning, Jessie left for work as she typically did. Saul waited till she was gone, having taken a shower already. He called Miles to let him know he was on his way over. He dressed up and went downstairs to gather up the forms in his library’s desk cabinet. Out the front door he went and hurried across the street to knock on Miles’ door. The door came open but to his surprise, it wasn’t Miles or Lana that opened the door for him but Tibbs.
He stood there in a white vest and pair of jeans munching on an apple, giving Saul the baleful stare. He was like a lion in his den, and Saul had just interrupted his exercise.
“What you doing here, white boi?”
“Miles is a friend, and I’m here to get him to look up some documents.”
“Oh yeah?” he took another bite off his apple and looked at the papers in Saul’s hand. “What you got there that you want him to look at, white boi?”
“It’s nothing that concerns you, Tibbs,” said Saul.
Tibbs glowered at him. “The name’s Mr. Tibbs to you, white boi. And if you don’t already know, Miles and his slut bitch are both my property. I can do with them however way that I want, and that includes whatever it is they own and all else, so you’d watch that tongue of yours if you don’t want to pick any of your teeth off the ground next time you flap it around me, white boi.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tibbs. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Damn right you didn’t mean it,” Tibbs sneered. “Right about now, the white boi’s indisposed, cleaning out his bitch’s pussy for me. You got anything you want his ass to take a look at, better hand it over.”
He stretched forth his hand. Saul reluctantly gave him the documents. Tibbs gave it a cursory glance. “What’s this here Tongue Patrol stuff you selling, white boi? Some type of perfume or something?”
“Not really the sort of thing that would interest you, Mr. Tibbs.”
Tibbs looked at Saul as if checking to see if he was playing with him or not. Saul kept his stance; Tibbs broke into laughter.
“You’ve got a lot of balls for a white boi, you know. I’ll run this over with Miles. In the meantime, you be a good boi and toddle off. I’ll see you around.”
He stepped back into the house and slammed the door at his face. Saul stood there for a moment as if expecting the door to open up once again and for his friend to appear there. When nothing happened, he turned and returned back to his home.
Later that day, Saul wore on his best suit and went out into the neighbourhood, visiting some of the friendly homes of which his buddy Miles called afterwards telling him that he’d already spread the word regarding what he was selling. Saul had called Dave to set up an appointment with him at his office sometime in noon. It was 9:17a.m., when he stepped out of his front door a second time that morning and with several documents similar to the ones he’d left with Mr. Tibbs earlier, he set forth to start his salesman job.
***
At an undisclosed building, four black men sat in a living room doing whatever they could to keep busy. Two of them, Jones and Booker, were playing a video game. Tyrone was flipping through an old Hustler magazine while another colleague of theirs, Baby D, lay on the long couch with one arm over his face weaving in and out of deep sleep. The boys were on a down low, waiting for whenever they’d get the call to head out to make some upper or middle-class white women happy today. So far they hadn’t received any such call all day and they all had gotten antsy with laziness and were thinking of means to get their minds off their work.
There came the sound of a phone ringing. Tyrone was the first to hear it; he sat up on the couch and hushed his buddies who were busy with their game.
“Yo, guys! Any of you hear that? Sound like a phone ringing somewhere?”
The ringing phone sounded like it was coming from afar. Tyrone jumped off his seat and went into the bedroom to investigate. He returned with the cell phone in his hand - it was their TP phone, which either one of them was meant to carry if in case they got a call for some much-needed pussy. Tyrone answered the phone; Jones and Booker paused their game and waited for him to be done. Tyrone was smiling at them when he hung up.
“We got the call, boys,” Tyrone grinned at them.
“The fuck was that calling?” asked Jones.
“It’s one of our white boi sales-men, a dude names Saul. He said he’s got two separate couples right now that want to be serviced. One of them’s a hot wife. She wants a brother to come fix her kitchen sink. The other’s a husband and wife who wants a gangbang.”
They woke Baby D up and told him what a job they’d been blessed with. He too was happy to hear it, glad that his cock was going to get some pussy-exercise before the day was over.
“Alright now the question is there’s four niggers in this room,” declared Jones. “How’re we going to know who gets to go where?”
It came down to a coin toss. Booker and Tyrone tossed a coin while Jones and Baby D did the same. Booker and Baby D emerged the winner, and then they too tossed a coin. In the end, Baby D won to go fix the white slut’s kitchen sink while the others got ready for the gangbanging event.
They went to take a shower first.
***
It was less than thirty minutes before noon when a Hilux truck came to a stop along the curb of a white-painted Victorian stucco house. The driver of the truck got out and adjusted his coveralls and opened the back door and took out a bag of tools with him. He took out a piece of paper from his pocket on which he’d written the name and address of the house he was coming to visit. The address written on the mail box in front of the driveway corresponded with that which he had on the paper - #143 Marybone Street. There was a narrow cobbled-stoned walkway leading to the front of the house. He black man followed it and knocked pressed at the doorbell and waited.
A lock turned in the door and then it came open to reveal a middle-aged, mousy-haired white woman. She was of average height with a body about giving way to ample fat. Her brown hair was shaped in that of a pageboy’s. Her face was round, so too were her eyes which looked at the black man with interest and curiosity. She was wearing a top with thin shoulder straps and sweat pants that showcased her thick pair of hips.
“Yes?” she asked the question.
“Good day, ma’am. I got a call saying you require some plumbing job to fix your kitchen sink.”
“You’re late. I made that call almost an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry about that, ma’am. We had quite a busy schedule down at the office today. There was almost no one to send over.”
“Some busy schedule that must be.”
She sniffed before letting him into the house. She closed the door and turned the lock then led the way through the back corridor into the kitchen. She excused herself for a minute while the black man opened the bottom cabinet under the sink and went to work.
The woman’s name was Megan, and she was smiling at herself the moment she stepped out of the kitchen and went in search of her cell phone. It was in the living room where she’d earlier been keeping herself busy watching a sex tape she and her husband had made some months back when they’d been on vacation in Vegas. That had been a two-week holiday unlike any they’d had so far. One evening they had hooked up with a white swingers couple and though neither Megan and Robert were into the lifestyle, nor had they ever thought of ever before heard the term ‘swingers’ before until that evening. They had gone along for the fun of it and Megan had never been so pleasured by another man and woman ever before. It had always been a fantasy of Robert to see her being taken by another man. He had later revealed this to her after they’re returned to their hotel bedroom the following morning. Life had never been the same for them since that morning. Megan had gotten just as excited over the idea as her husband and continuous talk about it had brought up the subject of black men. Robert loved the idea when she’d brought it to her one night in bed: about her giving herself to a black man to use however which way he wanted. The excitement had unleashed some dark wanting in both of them and for months they’d thought of how to go about it, knowing how naïve they were on the subject. That was until they’d met a couple who were, or rather seemed more advanced in the subject than they. Such as how their wanting had reached Miles ears and how too Miles had transferred their desire to Saul, who’d given them a call in the morning with a promise to see what magic he could pull for them.
Megan was randy with excitement, when Robert her told her about his conversation with Saul, she’d expressed doubt that he could get something done for them at such a fast moment. She couldn’t believe he’d actually made things happen for them. She scrolled through her phone and dialled her husband’s number to tell him the good news.
“What’s up, honey?” her husband’s voice floated into her ear.
“Darling, he’s here!” she proudly announced and peaked back at the corridor from where she could still hear the sound of a tool clanging on something. She burst into a giggle as she continued. “Darling, I’m so excited. The black man is really here!”
“Okay, okay, calm down, babe. What’s he doing right now? Is he inside the house?”
“Yes, of course he’s inside. He’s making like fixing the kitchen sink, just as you’ve always wanted in that stupid fantasy of yours. Anyway, I’m going to head back into the kitchen and see what can happen.”
“You’re seriously going to go ahead with this, aren’t you, darling?”
“Yes, Robert, I am!” she said it with such declaration as if anything less might dissuade her from breaking her marital vow of letting another man in-between her legs. “I’m going to see what he’s got down his pants, how big his black cock is, and if he’d-”
Someone coughed behind her: “Ahem! Excuse me, ma’am.”
Megan choked on her next set of words and swallowed them immediately upon hearing the sound of the black man’s voice behind her. As if glued to where she stood with the phone pressed against her ear and her husband’s voice still speaking to her ear, she half turned, hoping it was some dream, and her mouth came unhinged at what she saw before her.
Baby D stood three feet behind her at the door’s entrance with his coverall zipped open all the way down to his waistline with his semi-erect black cock hanging out of it. It looked like a thick black banana with the way it curved towards his right thigh. For a minute neither of them said anything. Megan’s eyes remained transfixed at his original black tool. She fought to say something but it came out as a gasp.
“Ma’am, I’m going to require some oil for this tool of mine,” Baby D indicated at his black cock. “Mind lending me a hand here?”
Coming from the phone’s earpiece, Megan’s husband wanted to know what was happening. He kept muttering “Hello! Hello! Megan, are you there?”
“I’ll call you back, Darling. I’ve got to go now,” she spoke hurriedly into the phone before discontinuing the call and let the phone slip from her hand.
“You say you want some ... oil?” she approached Baby D, her eyes staring at his black cock. She almost smiled when she noticed it nod its head at her. She came and knelt before him. Her hands picked up his cock, weighting in on her palm; pre-cum seemed to pour out its tiny slit in response to her touch. “I think I’ve got some oil for it.”
She leaned her head forward and opened her mouth to ingest her black tool.
***
Three minutes after Baby D was being let into the Parson’s home to fix their plumbing problem, his three other buddies - Jones, Tyrone and Booker - were dressed in their pest control uniform and knocking on the door of Dave and Amy Shepsi. Amy had been sunbathing in the back and had just stepped into the kitchen to fill up her lemonade drink, after which she would rub some oil over her body, when she’d heard the doorbell and went to investigate. The doorbell sounded a second time as she slipped her arms into her see-through robe and wore on her slippers.
“Coming!” She yelled out, pushing her platinum-blonde hair away from her face.
She turned the lock and opened it and after a brief discussion let the boys inside and closed and locked the door once they were inside.
For such to happen, it’s assumed that no one would have sighted the comings and goings of three black men venturing into a neighbourhood where the inhabitants were majority middle to upper-class white families, some living behind opulent mansions and homes worth more in real-estate value than a handful of tenement houses in the seediest part of the city. Some persons did actually sight the three pest control men. One of them was a twelve-year old lad who lived next door to the Shepsis’ home and was the time practising hoop shots on his parent’s driveway and he watched the three men enter his neighbour’s home and ran into his house to tell his mother of what he’d just seen. The second individual lived halfway across the street from the Shepsis. She was Abigail Pottersmith, a rich widow in her early fifties who did little else besides gossip and sip cherry whenever she wasn’t watching ‘The Real Housewives of Atlanta’. At the moment she’d spied out her living room window and saw the three men in time as the sound of their car came to a stop across the street from hers and she saw them walk towards the Shepsis’ home. She left her chair and approached her window, picking up a pair of binoculars with which she used to bird-watch whenever she went down to the park as well as to snoop on most of her neighbours. She trained the binoculars on the three black men and saw when the Shepsi woman, Amy, I think her name is, opened the door to let them in. Abigail brought down the binoculars and wondered.
Abigail went and picked up her cell phone and dialled one of her fellow gossip-mongers, Meredith Eastmond, who lived in the opposite street, the same street as did Megan Parson. She heard the phone ring and waited almost impatiently for her friend to pick up.
Finally, her friend’s voice: “Hello, Abby.”
“Meredith, you’re not going to believe what I’m going to tell you.”