Read Sins of a Siren Online

Authors: Curtis L. Alcutt

Sins of a Siren (12 page)

The thought of greens, yams, smothered steak and cornbread made her stomach giggle. “You're lucky I like soul food…I'll be down in a minute.”

Ten minutes later, after packing her butterfly knife, wallet and cell phone in her bag, she stepped off the elevator and strolled into the lobby. Walter slowly rose from the couch across from the reception desk, admiring his date. “Hmmmm! You clean up
well
!”

She put a hand on her hip and let the other dangle her Coach bag on her side. “I
always
look good.”

His eyes lingered on her cleavage. “I agree…” He removed her hand from her hip and held it. “Now I get to go show you off.”

She allowed him to lead her out to his car. After letting her in, he got in and drove them to the locally famous soul food restaurant. A mostly Creole staff greeted them and sat them in a cozy booth near the back of the room. The low lights gave the place a cozy and romantic feel. She gazed at the pictures and oil paintings of Black cowboys, entertainers and sports figures that decorated the walls and rafters. She picked up the menu. “This place smells like my granny's kitchen on a Sunday after church.”

He unfolded his white cloth napkin and spread it on his lap. “Oh, so you were raised in the church?”

She briefly looked at him over the menu. “Why? You surprised?”

“Kind of. You sound a little too edgy to be a church-girl.”

“How are church-girls supposed to be? Like those girls on
Little House on the Prairie
?'”

He smiled and picked up his menu. “Not exactly. I see you as more of the ‘Aunt Esther'-type from the
Sanford and Son
show; preach the gospel one minute, slappin' you upside the head with the Bible the next.”

She lightly kicked him on the shin under the table. “Don't get hurt up in here, okay?”

A gorgeous, freckle-faced female server broke up their fun. She placed a small basket of fresh cooked cornbread squares on the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. “You folks ready?”

Trenda's smile waned as she watched a pair of Oakland Police officers enter the front door.
Oh, fuck! I wonder what they want?

Walter gave Trenda a curious look. “What's wrong?”

She covered her face with the menu. “Nothin'. You go ahead and order. I'm still tryin' to decide what I want.”

He studied her a moment longer as the server waited patiently. “I'll have oxtails, greens and macaroni and cheese.”

She lowered the menu enough to spy on the cops as they looked around the room. Suddenly, a short, heavy-set, grandmotherly-looking woman emerged from the kitchen. Trenda watched as the cops broke out in smiles and took turns hugging her.
Cool, looks like they're just here to eat.
She was surprised to see Walter watching her intently. “What's wrong with you?”

“You looked like you were ready to jump up and run!”

She gave the menu a final glance. “You are straight trippin'.” She addressed the server. “I'll have smothered steak, green beans and yams.”

The server scribbled on her pad. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

He let his eyes fall from Trenda's face to the wine list on the table. “Do you drink red wine, Mya?”

“Yeah. It's okay.”

He turned to the server. “Can we have a bottle of Monticello Pinot Noir?”

She scribbled their beverage choice. “Great! I'll be back shortly with your order.”

Trenda reached into the red plastic basket, grabbed a square of warm cornbread and took a small bite. “This is pretty good!”

Walter looked over his shoulder as the cops picked up their call-in order and left. He turned back to Trenda. “Did those policemen make you nervous?”

The piece of cornbread she was buttering broke in half and fell on her plate. “Hell no…why you say that?”

He stared at her for a moment, then got a piece of cornbread out the basket. “Because your eyes got as big as hubcaps when they came in.”

She avoided his eyes and nibbled her cornbread. “Whatever.” Even when she wasn't sought by the law, her fear of police was hard to mask. She had seen the ugly side of cops for most of her life. On occasion, she'd been arrested for no reason and released in exchange for a hand job, or in extreme cases, fellatio. Once word got out about how good her mouth was, bad cops up and down the Eastern seaboard hounded her—none as much as Darius. She gave him a defiant look. “Takes more than a couple of cops to make me nervous.”

He chuckled at her hardcore look. They made small talk over the meal and a bottle and a half of wine. Two hours later, after discussing the cremation process, another cop strolled in. She did her best to remain calm and not tip off Walter she was scared as shit. Anxiety awakened her need for comfort. Her favorite form of comfort was a nice stiff dick. She kept Walter's attention away from the officer by reaching across the table and touching his cheek. “Did you get these cute dimples from your mother or father?”

He took her hand and kissed it. “You can thank my late mother for them.”

She rubbed her thumb on his hand. “Sorry to hear about your mother.”

“It's okay. She lived a long full life. She passed away five years ago at the age of ninety-nine.”

“Wow! Is your father still around?”

“Nope…he passed a year after my mother. He was one hundred and two.”

She sensed his good mood waning. She changed the subject. “Well, I'm full. Thanks for the food. Are you ready to leave?”

He removed the napkin from his lap, wiped his mouth and tossed it on the table. “Yes. Are you sure you don't want to try their peach cobbler?”

She rummaged through her purse for her compact mirror. “I'll pass. My ass is already wide enough.”

He shook his head and grinned as he reached for the bill. “You have
got
to be kidding. You have a body any woman would die for.”

She smiled, then applied a fresh coat of copper lipstick. “I bet you say that to all your girlfriends.”

He removed his credit card and placed it on the table along with the bill. “No, I can honestly say I don't say that to
all
my girlfriends.”

Her smile widened as the cop left with his meal. “Well, at least you're honest. That's a good sign. I like to keep it real in everything I do.”

He summoned the server with a wave of his hand. “I'm glad to hear that. Makes it a lot easier when both parties are on the same page.”

She looked him in the eyes. “And just what page are you on, Mr. Secrease?”

He stood and took her hand. “Depends on which book you're talking about.”

“I'm not sure if you read the same books I do. Maybe we'll find out back at my room.”

He grinned broadly. “I sure hope so.”

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at her hotel. Walter pulled into the underground parking garage and opened the door for Trenda. She looped her arm in his as they talked about his life back in D.C. She fed him lie after perfect lie about how she was raised in New Jersey and moved to D.C. after her parents divorced. She amazed him with tales of how she had to drop out of college after her mother hurt her back at work and had to go on disability. He shook his head in amazement as she unlocked the door to her room. “It sounds like you have seen a lot.”

She kicked off her pumps and turned on the light. “Been through a lot, too.” She picked up the TV remote and handed it to him. “Have a seat. I'll be right back.”

He sat on the sofa, put the remote down, put his hand on her hip and ran it down her curvy thigh. “Hurry up and bring all this back to me.”

Her mild wine-buzz helped cracked the door open for her inner nymphomaniac to peek her head out. She allowed him to stroke her thigh a few times as she gave him a half-smile. “You ain't ready.”

He placed his other hand on her round mound of an ass and pulled her to him. “Bet.”

She put her hands on his shoulders. “You better be careful, Dimples…you keep rubbin' on me and I might have to test that fifty-year-old heart.”

He caressed her soft backside. “In that case, it's a good thing I just had a physical last week and was given the okay for strenuous activities.”

She loosened his tie, removed it and tossed it on the floor. The firm grip of his large hands ignited her furnace. “You talk a good game.”

He found the zipper on the back of her skirt and unzipped it. She unbuttoned his shirt and massaged his shoulders. He eased the skirt down over her bulging hips. The sight of her black boy-shorts made his lump jump. “Damnnnnnnnn,” he whispered as she stepped out of the skirt. “Your legs are
flawless
.”

Her eyes narrowed and she switched into “Freak Mode.” She broke his grip, removed her earrings and put them on top of the TV. She then faced him and slowly pulled her tight shirt over her head. A satisfied smirk filled her face as his eyes fixed on the black satin bra covering her big, perky tits. She slowly rubbed them as he hurriedly unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. “Like what you see?”

He licked his lips. “I sure do. Do they taste as good as they look?”

She watched him remove his shirt and toss it to the floor. His wife-beater showed off his fit and trim physique. “I don't know; let me see.” She unstrapped her bra and let her luscious breasts free. As Walter gawked at her, she lifted one to her mouth and sucked the nipple. “Mmmmmm, taste good to me…”

“Oh, shit!” He stood and tried to grab her. “My turn.”

She stepped forward and pushed him back down on the bronze-colored sofa. “Not so fast…” She stepped back and sucked the other nipple. The way his eyes followed her put a tingle in her valley. “I'm not done yet.”

She proceeded to lick and suck her hard black nipples as Walter's hand fell to his lap and gripped the log behind his zipper. She loved to tease. Making men's knees buckle was her specialty. She slipped a finger in her mouth, then into her panties. She watched Walter gulp hard and kick off his shoes as she fingered her wet
opening. He stood, unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor. “Shit, Mya!”

She tossed her head back and let her narrowed green eyes lock on the bulge in his navy blue boxer briefs. “What's wrong, Dimples?”

He stepped out of his slacks. “I'll give you two guesses but the first one doesn't count.”

She walked over, placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back on the sofa. “Does it have anything to do with this?” She placed her hand on the swelling below his navel.

He closed his eyes as she gently caressed his package. “I think you are about to find out.”

She moved in to kiss him on the neck. “What do you—”

Before she could finish, he quickly stood, grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto the sofa. In another quick move, he removed his boxers and fell between her legs. “Enough of this teasing shit.”

She looked into his eyes and read the burning lust in them.
This fool done lost his mind!
“Easy, baby. We got all night.”

He ignored her as his breathing increased. He reached between them and yanked off her boy-shorts. She only had a second to see his black snake before he positioned himself and slammed inside her wet box. She watched with a mixture of passion and annoyance as his eyes closed in ecstasy. Rarely did Trenda give her pussy to any man. She enjoyed sucking a dick almost more than she did penetration. Thus, her pussy was in great shape, nice and tight. It had been eaten—by men and women—almost more than it had been fucked. The feel of his above average-sized penis slamming into her produced a waterfall in her vagina. His energy surprised her. Just as she'd almost accepted him taking her, he pulled out, stood and picked her up. “We need more room.”
She put her arm around his neck. “I see you can be a bad boy.”

He gave her a cold look. “You damn right.” He carried her into the bedroom of the suite and tossed her onto the bed. “Bend your ass over.”

She narrowed her eyes, nipples and clit throbbing.
I see he wants to be The Man.
She grabbed a pillow, put her ass in the air and looked at him over her shoulder. “Like this, Daddy?”

She watched as he gazed at her soft ass and pussy. “Yesss…just like that. Daddy likes that.” He crawled behind her, lined his dick up with her wet lips and slid inside. He gripped her hips and fucked her hard and fast.

She laid her head sideways on the pillow.
He is fuckin' like the Energizer Bunny. I got something for his wannabe bad boy ass.
She lifted her head and looked back at him. “Is that all you got? Fuck…me…
harder!

He gritted his teeth as a bead of sweat ran down his nose. “Shut up and give me my pussy!”

She pushed back to meet his every stroke. “C'mon, Daddy… fuck your nasty bitch good!”

His guttural moan told her she had pushed his buttons. His grip tightened on her hips as he pounded harder. She used her pussy control and gripped his dick. “Fuck yes! Shit, this pussy… is…
good
! I love…fucking…my nasty bitch!”

She reached back and rubbed her clit. “More! Tear this pussy up, Daddy!”

The bed rocked and shook with each violent, pleasurable stroke. She felt his hands grip her ass cheeks firmly. He huffed and puffed. “Daddy…is about to…teach you…a lesson…for being… a bad…bitch!”

She almost laughed.
Listen to this proper-talkin' fool tryin' to sound all hard.
“What you gonna do—”

A split second later, she felt his dick pop out of her and land on her ass hole. The coat of her woman juice on his junk acted as a natural lubricant. “Time to punish you.” He pushed a little harder and his dickhead disappeared inside her tight ass.

Oh helllll no he didn't!
She gripped the apricot-colored bedspread in both hands as he pushed deeper in her anus. Having her ass reamed was nothing new; but it was normally reserved as a treat for deserving lovers. Her clit fluttered as the pleasant pain stoked her fire. “Mmmmmm, Daddy…take…that…assssss…”

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