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I’m tired. I’m tired of living alone, doing what I do and having no one to come home to. Truthfully though, there’s no woman in the world that could handle what it is I truly do. Being a cop was one thing but being a killer is another. I was a cop five years ago, got training and experience then in a flash it’s was taken, and here I am, alone. I do my best to stay in control. I train every day, cardio and capoeira. I weight lift every so often but mostly I stick to calisthenics. I stick to a tight schedule to maximize my time and efforts. To keep me focused and alert, but most of all to keep thoughts like the ones I’m having now out my head, thoughts of loneliness and regret, frustration and anger, but mostly loneliness. I can’t stay in and I tired of hitting the bag. While heading out I question whether or not I should bring my glock. I opt to leave it but I bring my kerambit and straight blade, two weapons I don’t need a license for or a holster.
In five minutes I’m in my car and heading into the city. I stay outside city limits, far enough away to keep to protect my privacy but close enough to make a run or a “business meeting” with time to spare. I drive a 96 eclipse spyder, midnight blue, top down and Kem playing in the back ground. During the drive I lose track of time and my emotions fade away as the street lights and the sounds of people lost in their own little worlds seems to soothe me. I drive past kids getting into mischief, families either heading home or away for vacation, cops maintaining the order, prostitutes satisfying the cardinal desires of society, and lustful men and women heading to the clubs. I’ve never been the club type of guy, never the social type. I had friends but didn’t need to mingle with strangers to feel like I was a part of something. I kept riding until something caught my eye or rather my ear. I heard something smooth and soulful, a jazz caf?yay. I park a couple of yards away, giving me enough distance to check my surroundings for anything suspicious but close enough to make a run for it with enough object to take cover from.
A couple of minutes later I’m in the caf?ust vibing, letting the scene ease me and carry my emotions with every high and low note, with the pace of the rythms relaxing me. Then in a flash I feel this electric move through me. A feeling I was taught could keep me alive, a feeling I was taught to nurture and rely on. I scan the room the best I can, the lighting making it difficult but I saw her. This girl so pure, so innocent, a girl soul singer would serenade and cry about. A tall, thick woman, with beautiful hazel eyes, chocolate skin, small waist, thick thighs, and firm breast with long dreds hang down to her back. I question her motives, I seach the scene, looking for her back up, I look for something or someone alerted but nothing. I look back at her allow her to see my eyes and daring her to walk up. She does and as she moves it’s like magic, like she’s floating, her hips moving to the beat, her lips tight, her arms behind her back, and her eyes never left mines. I continue to keep the eye contact, then something shocks me, it’s not a look of aggression, but of something I haven’t seen in too long, lust. It almost scarries me when I realize what’s in her heart, I try to motion away but it’s too late, I’m trapped by the wall behind me, the table, chair, and a beautiful, lustful angel. I realize I’m not breathing and take a breath. She smiles and asks my name. I stare at her stunned. Her facial expression changes to confusion and begins to walk away. My arm reaches out for her and my body working on its own begins to apologize for my behavior and explains that she took my breath away. We move to another table and begin talking, talking about her goals and plans, her current and future, her name is Shawntae. Then she moves the conversation to me, I stall, take her by the hand and lead her to the dance floor. We dance, grind and feel up on each other until the band themselves become tired. We take a break not realizing it the majority of the club has turned their attention on us. A man’s face becomes distinct, his focus not on me but her, I look to Shawntae and smile comes across her face. Before I can ask she grabs my hand and leads me out the door.
We stand on the street curb letting the cool ocean breeze calm us down. I look into her eyes and see pain and remorse. Just like that I know what’s up. I ask who hurt who. Before she can answer a cry of Shawntae comes from behind us. The guy with from inside the club, the one who hurt Shawntae walks up on us. They begin arguing and screaming of betrayal and accidents made, promises never kept and a marriage destroyed. I look to her finger and his, no rings. It’s over. She moves away from both of us, standing on her own two feet, strong but hurt. Shawntae’s soon to be ex fianc? Derek is standing with three of his boys and four young ladies, all behind him, disrespecting Shawntae and she stands there like the insults are bouncing off of her. I square up just in case and become Derek’s focus, he blames me for her betrayal, and new found knowledge and strength then changes me. I deflect him off and square back up, I warn him and his boys, they laugh, I laugh on the inside and smile on the out. The only person who sees it is Shawntae, and she seems scared but at ease. Threats of being boxer and mixed martial arts do nothing but excite me more. His latino home boy comes at me and throws a jab, I deflect and pop him in his stomach, and a cross to his jaw then an elbow smash to the nose, good night. His light skinned friend grabs me from behind; I square my shoulder, lower my weight, and open my arms some. I push my head back popping him in the nose, I send and elbow into his stomach, carry his left arm over to my right shoulder, pulling it down and dislocating it, and pulling him on the ground. Derek tackles me on the ground, we roll around until I get postioning, my knee on his chest pounding him in the face, his other home boy kicks me in the back, I roll off turn to him pissed. He kicks at me again, I stop it with my lead leg stepping in, I jab in him the face, secure the back of his neck and throw five knees into him, I let go and he falls to the floor. I turn and find Derek, pissed off I go at him, he backs off, too afraid to run or look away and Shawntae gets between me and him. I see a look of both satisfaction and fear. I back off and turn from them. I walk past her, the crowd, and the club away towards the beach. It’s one forty five in the morning and I’m on the beach looking at the moon. I lose myself in thought, in memories of love lost, past friends, family I miss and the young woman named Shawntae. And like magic she reappears but with tears in her eyes. She explains how perfect their lives were until their tragedy. She was an Accountant and Derek works in PC maintenance and networking. Until she lost her baby during child birth, she lost her will to live. She lost her job and her husband to his job and his sexual transgressions. She leaned in and I held her.
A couple of minutes we were in a hotel suite kissing each other, tongue touching one another, sounds of two people lost in the moment with passion in their heart. The aches in my body form the fight and in my soul from my life’s choices gone, I just have her and she’s all I need. Love make almost forgotten, my instincts, the instinct the kept alive in the field, that lead to my survival a few men’s deaths and now helping me lead a woman to her orgasm. I kissed her as my fingers played her clit and traced her body. I use my hands to hurt men but now my only concern is making her feel loved and special. I kissed her down her back and up her arms. Then I saw the scars from her past attempts at suicide. I move past it. Slowly tracing my tongue down to her chest, licking and massaging her breasts I begin to finger fuck her. She loses control, asking me to please her and guiding me to her orgasm. She explodes once, then again each time begging for more. I trace my path from her tits to her legs and kiss them tenderly, sucking on her inner thigh and playing with her love pearl, making her shake and grind against my strokes. I put my lips to hers and begin tonguing her pussy, licking and sucking on her clit as my index and middle fingers do their best dildo impersonations. Her body moves to every stroke, every lick, every motion of my tongue and fingers. I swallow her juices and savor her flavor like I may never be this close to a woman again. She grips the back of my head controlling her pleasure the best she can. She gains control and pushes me back and takes me in her mouth. The ways she tease me and plays me puts me on edge, I wanna lose it so bad but those scars, Derek’s betrayal, and her loss child return to my mind and I gain control. I let her play, she seems to enjoy giving head and I’m loving every minute of it. I grab her by her hair and pull her to my face. We kiss as she hovers over my dick. She slowly slides me in and I release a moan into her mouth. She smiles and giggles. She feels so amazing, tight and hot with her juices flowing down my legs on the sheet. Being in her is like being in a Jacuzzi of pleasure. She rocks her hips and put her right breast in my mouth. I grip her ass with one hand and massage her clit with the other. She rocks deeper as her orgasm grows, I continue to suck and rub her pushing over the edge. We change position over and over, rolling from one corner of the bed to the next, and she continues to beg for more and more until her pleads become moans and grunts. We go all night, and then finally I feel it in my spine, that orgasm I’ve pushing back and come forward. I push into her deeper and her pushes back, I pull her hair and she calls out a name, Michael. I could care less, I keep thrusting, loosing count and feeling in my legs, I pull out and explode over and over on her back until I collapse numb. She rolls over next to me and kisses me. We lay there and catch our breath. Then I realize we’re on the floor, I ask can she pick me up and put me on the bed; she looks at me and laughs.
Five minutes later were in the bed and it hits me, she called out Michael, names not Michael, I have an alias Michael but I gave her Eric, not Michael. I asked and she rolled over and said nothing. I let it go and fell asleep. If I have been more aware I would have noticed her sniffling trying to hold back the tears, her phone vibrating from a message and mines. I would have noticed and checked it and found out my company is being restructured and many coworkers are being laid off. That the men and women I work with were either being target and eliminated or seized for a later interrogation. That Charles, my handler was trying to warn me that we are on the list to be dealt with. I would have got ready for a war but my only thought was on Shawntae. Tomorrows a new day but what I didn’t know is that it may be my last.

Anonymous readerReport

2009-04-20 21:49:10
Same old same.......wall of words! Is almost every author here a complete moron? How MANY times does this need to be said before writers get the message/

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