Her sentiment was interrupted by his hand suddenly wrapped firmly around her throat. “Roni, you talk too much.”

VALENTINES DAY:

It was chilly. Veronica stood on Benji’s porch patient but pissed.  She grabbed her phone and dialed again. Voicemail. She was slowly losing patience.

“Benji—if you don’t answer your phone in the next-“

“Hey Biscuit.” Benji said from behind her. She turned and gave him a  stare that would kill most men. He didn't notice as he was stunned at the sight of her. She was dressed to the nines, tens, twenties, millions. She wore a black diaphanous lace evening gown with a white satin slip, the bottom of which cascaded into a sheer yoke. The front tapered off a bit and revealed a pair of legs that could have been borrowed from Tina Turner. Her toes were perfectly manicured. A deep crimson that contrasted perfectly against her pale skin. Her heels were simple but elegant—a pair of thin, black, Manolo Blahnik  single strap, open toes.   

Benji stared at her slack jawed. “Why aren’t you dressed?! You look like a male T.H.O.T.” she yelled; placing her phone in her purse. Benji’s attire was the antithesis of Veronica’s. He wore a white hoodie that appeared to be covered in food stains, a pair of fruit of the loom joggers, and his beat up Jordan’s. He stared at her blankly. “Benji!” she snapped. “Huh? Oh, sorry! I didn’t know how long it would take you to get here, so I ran to the store, but I realized I didn’t get my change I was heading back now. You want to come with me?”

Veronica stared daggers at him. “I’m just playing Biscuit! Come on! I’ll change now!” He opened the door; placing his hand on the small of her back and led her into his apartment complex—Veronica sulking the entire way. I can’t do this. I can’t be with a man this unorganized!  She thought. He is never on time, he pays his bills late and I am always waiting for him! Tonight is the night I leave his ass. A scent interrupted her train of thought—teasing her nostrils. The one redeeming quality 'the hood' held for her was the food. She loved home cooked meals and had a slight obsession with soul food in particular. She had never learned how to cook herself and her mother was about as much a chef as Chicago winter’s were warm—so she never had a proper mentor.  Her stomach growled.  He fumbled with his keys. “Let me change and I’ll be right back!” he said; slinking into the apartment. He closed the door behind him—leaving her in the hallway. Veronica was floored. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She paused for exactly one minute. “Benji you have till the count of—!“ she began. The door flung open in a flash of white lighting.

“One?” Benji said; planting a kiss on her mouth. He pulled her in so tightly her back popped a bit. He stared at her. “You know what I love the most about you? You don’t bother with makeup aside from your eyes, so I have no worries about ruining your lipstick when we kiss. Not to mention I never have to worry about telling you to remove lipstick from your teeth.” he said; chuckling a bit. “A-as if I would ever get lipstick on my teeth.” she said; a chill shooting up her spine. 

And with his lips Veronica forgot why she was ever angry. She was 
overwhelmed. The smell was stronger than ever and  clearly coming from Benji’s apartment. Benji stepped back a bit and posed. He was wearing a sleek white, Armani suit. His shirt had a 70's style big collar and wasn’t tucked in, but she gave him a pass on that. Everything else was solid. His dreads were tied back into a neat bundle, and she hadn’t noticed before but he’d finally shaved that awful, painfully thin mustache. He spread his arms. 

“Go ahead, take it all in.” he said with confidence. It was all bravado of course. She giggled and strolled into his place, embraced him and laid her head against his chest. She loved how tall he was. Even in her heels she only reached his shoulders. “You’re so stupid. How did you do that?” she asked. “Oh!  I wore my ‘T.H.O.T’ gear over the suit. I would have changed into my shoes, but I was terrified you’d kick my door in.” he said. “You were right to worry, but in this case I would have just left.”  She nuzzled against him.  Mine. He is mine. Her stomach rumbled again. “I hope you’re hungry.” he said. “Wait, I thought we were going out for dinner?” she asked, head still resting on her man’s chest.

“Yeah, but I don’t have any money for that, but it’s still Valentine’s day, and it’s not like I’m going to have you pay for everything. Not that you would have anyway.” he said. “Not a chance in hell.” Veronica said purring against him. She inhaled deeply. His scent mingled with whatever cooking was made her salivate. He released her, and led her into the kitchen. His apartment was lit entirely by the faint glow of candles. “Madam.” He said, offering her a seat at the table. She slipped into it, and he slid her forward.  “You should thank Bean for the dinner, he helped me cook the roast.” Benji said setting the table. Roast!! She thought, barely able to contain herself.  She had never had a man cook for her, not of their own volition anyway.

“How is Bean?” she asked.

“Oh, he is fine.  Just sick of being an 9 year old.”

“They are all like that.”

“He made you a card. It’s there on the table.”

Veronica smiled. She carved the envelope open with a fingernail and opened the card. She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“He is so your son.”

“How so?”

She opened the card and read: “Dear Ms. Veronica. Happy Valentine’s day! Please make sure my dad doesn’t burn the house down. Thanks! Sincerely, Bean.”

“What a dick.” Benji  said; handing her a plate, a napkin and silverware. “Wait, where is your plate?” she asked. “Oh, I’m going to eat. Just not food. This night is all about you.” he replied. “Is that what you think?” she asked. He didn’t reply. He simply placed a crock pot in the middle of the table and went back to the stove without a word. He returned a moment later with a large loaf of freshly baked dinner bread. It was piping hot, and steam billowed from the pan. Her mouth watered. He began spreading butter over the top. It melted, and sizzled in the pan. He sliced off a chunk and placed it on her plate with a bit more butter. 

“Is that the roast in the crock pot?” she asked. He removed the top—steam rose— carrying the scent of heaven on its back. She inhaled as he sliced into it. The roast was perfect. It was juicy, and drizzled with gravy.  He cut off a small portion for her. “Um, more please. Actually forget it, I got this.” She began shoveling meat onto her plate, snagging a few carrots and potatoes here and there. She looked at her plate as if she were staring into the face of God. He placed a champagne glass next to her plate; walked back to the counter, and began fumbling with a bottle. “The girl at the liquor store recommended this. I’ve never been good at these things—“

 ****POP****

The cork dislodged and barreled towards Veronica’s face. Her hand darted out and snatched it out of the air—her eyes never leaving the plate. “Um…..Well damn.” Benji said, shocked. How the fuck did she do that? he thought. He filled her glass. She sat the cork on the table and drained the glass in one long pull, offering it to him for a refill. “It’s from Coopershawk.” he said, filling her glass again. I’m trying to use local small businesses these days. In fact the meat is from a local meat market in Maywood, where they butcher the cows—“ 

“Benji.” Veronica interrupted him, nursed her glass a bit, and sat it next to her plate.

“Yeah?”
“You realize this is not going to be pretty right?” she said.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“I have no shame in how I eat. I eat like I do at home wherever I am and if you stare at me, I just eat that much harder.” she said. “Be my guest Biscuit.” he bowed to her.

That said, she began devouring her meal. She didn’t even bother spreading the butter on her bread; she simply smeared the bread into butter and crammed it into her mouth barely before she finished chewing her previous bite of roast. “You like?” he asked. She nodded; handing him her glass. “I take it you want a refill—“ she took the bottle from him and drank directly from it. He was taken aback a bit, but he smiled.  She was ravenous. She had been so tied up with her plans that she hadn’t found the time to eat. “Ahhh!” she said; placing the bottle to rest on the table with a loud thud and leaned back in her chair. “Well, that was fast! I’ll handle the dishes.” He said, smiling at her. “Who said I was done?” she said.

Benji’s chest swelled with pride.  He did good. “In that case I’ll be right back!” he said leaving the kitchen. Veronica wasted no time. Rather than slicing the bread she broke off a large chunk and began slathering butter across it. She took a bite. It was delicious. The bread was crisp, hot and chewy.  She heard water running in the background.  What is he doing?  she thought.  The scent of the cooling roast interrupted her train of thought. She helped herself to another serving. I’m definitely going to have to work out tomorrow morning. He was in the living room now. She liked his apartment.  It wasn’t particularly impressive but it was well decorated. There was a large divider separating the living room from the kitchen. He had a nice leather sectional that spanned most of the room. Wind chimes with strange glyphs hung from the ceiling of the divider as well as a basket with creeping vines. The only art he has was a large red, blue and green painting of Jimi Hendrix, Billy Corgan and Robert Smith on a shelf above the couch.  The adjacent wall was lined with 3 long book shelves fit to burst. “So you really do read a lot huh?” she asked; speaking as she chewed. “Yeah.” He was fumbling with something in the corner. 

“Do you not own a television Benji?”

“No. I don’t even remember the last time I watched television. Wait, that isn’t true. Bean has one in his bedroom but we don’t have cable. Just the digital converter box. It pulls in tons of free channels and he really likes the educational cartoons. Plus I can watch C-span when I feel like hating myself.” He chuckled.  Music filled the room. 

♫ Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to ♫

♫Problems  that upset you, oh. ♫

♫Don't you know  Everything's alright, yes, everything's fine. ♫

♫And we want you to sleep well tonight. ♫

♫Let the world turn without you tonight. ♫

♫If we try, we'll get by, so forget all about us tonight♫

♫Everything's alright, yes, everything's alright, yes. ♫

“Holy shit! Is that Jesus Christ Superstar? I love that album!” Veronica was animated. “Yup! It always calms me when I’m nervous.” he replied. “Wait, why you are nervous?” she asked. “Roni, I’m always nervous when I’m around girls. In fact the only reason I’ve come off ‘cool’ around you this long, is because up till this point I didn’t think I had a shot in hell with you. Then I saw you looking magnificent on my porch and thought, ‘She came all the way out to the west side of Chicago to see my ass? I might actually have a shot. Albeit a small one. I’d even go as far as to say I only have a 1% chance of cuffing you, but you—“ he paused. Veronica dropped her fork and stood. “But what?” she asked. He had piqued her curiosity.

“Y-you are worth the gamble. And when I really want something, 1% may as well be 100%” he said. Veronica blushed. “Shit the water!” he bolted toward the bathroom, dropping the album cover on the floor. She heard the water stop. She grabbed the champagne bottle and headed towards the couch; plopped down and kicked her heels off. She was satiated.  Apparently the stomach was the way to some women’s hearts, because as she drained the rest of the bottle she thought, “I think I may love this boy.” 

He entered the room. “Your bath awaits dear.” he said; brandishing a fluffy white bath robe. “Bath? I already showered.” she was perplexed. Just go to the bathroom and decide from there.  She rose and hesitantly walked towards the bathroom. The scent was titillating. The bathroom was lit by scented candles and the water gave off an equally  pleasant odor. It was also littered with rose petals. He handed her the robe. “I used tea tree oil in the water and a bit of Epsom salt to soothe your muscles. Do you know the way Epsom salt works? The salt dissolves into the water and soaks the into your system through your skin. From there it soaks into your blood stream and replenishes the body’s store of magnesium, and studies show that magnesium is a strong as a muscle relaxer plus—“ 

“Shut up Benji. You are over explaining again.” She closed the door—barely able to contain her excitement.

She inhaled deeply. She noticed a stand and tray next to the tub. There was a cornucopia of items on the tray. Several chocolate covered strawberries, a bunch of grapes, a lighter, an ash tray, and one very large neatly rolled blunt packed with so much bright green kush that it could have been mistaken for a cigar. This boy… she thought. A knock. “Yes?” she said, slightly annoyed. 

“I forgot something.” he said. She cracked the door. He handed her a glass. “It’s a strawberry margarita.” he said. She took it from him with sincere gratitude. “I used real strawberries and a very high end Tequila. I didn’t want to salt the rim, because I didn’t know if you—“

“Thank you Benjamin.” She interrupted him and closed the door. Her clothes were off in a second and she eased into the tub. The temperature was perfect. Hot—but not scalding. She leaned back and noticed a bath pillow on the back of the tub to rest her head.  She began to lie back, but not before sparking the blunt. She took a long drag, leaned back, closed her eyes and exhaled. The heat permeated her body; soothing her muscles and her spirit. She began to tingle. I should start using tea tree oil. she thought.

Her thoughts meandered as the day’s stresses melted away. She placed the blunt onto the tray and bit into a strawberry. It was sweet and juicy. She had finished most of them before she realized the blunt was burning out. She took another long haul off of it and put it out. She popped a few grapes in her mouth and started on the margarita. Damn I wish this had sugar but I’m not going to complain!  she thought. 

She laid back and enjoyed her soak. Her hands slowly explored her body, rubbing the oil into her arms and thighs. It felt wonderful. Her fingers grazed her peach. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but she was extremely turned on. She was lascivious. She stroked her clit slowly. The warmth of the water made her feel as if she was being held by a lover. That was when she decided to let him have her—but only if he made the first move—which she doubted he would. He didn't seem confident enough to go for it. 

VALENTINES DAY:

Benji waited patiently on the couch. He had removed his suit and was wearing a
pair of khakis and a wife beater. He was lost in the latest F. Paul Wilson novel. I wish more women were like Gia. he thought—Gia being the love interest of the novel’s protagonist. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. He looked up and she was just there; beaming at him in her robe. He gathered his composure and stood. “Follow me.” he said taking her by the hand. 

They made it to his bedroom. It was lit by several tall white candles stuffed into wine bottles. “Lay down Biscuit. I’m going to rub your back.” He commanded. Normally she would have feigned chastity, however the few defenses she had remaining had followed her bath water into the drain. She discarded the robe and crawled into the bed and laid on her stomach. She was only wearing her panties. Benji had took shake himself out of a daze. She was marvelous. Her skin was like porcelain. Her curves were clearly defined and her skin—flawless. Veronica was a work of art and he admired her. He began by working on the back of her neck. “Tell me if I am too rough.” he said. “Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me.” She felt as if she were on a cloud. He rubbed her muscles deep and slowly. He poured a bit of oil into is palms and began working on the muscles behind her shoulder blades. She moaned a bit. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. 

“Benji…”

“Yes?”

“You talk too much.”
“Sorry.”

He used his forearms and began stroking her back for what seemed like an eternity. She was in between worlds. She was in twilight. He reached her lower back and began working on her glutes. “Did you know there is a large bundle of nerves in your butt cheeks? If you sit down a lot you will end up with sciatic pain, but most people don’t notice it because of the numbness it causes, plus—“ 

“Benji…” she said.
‘I know, I know I talk too much.” he said.

He pushed deep into her cheeks. They were plump and soft. He imagined God’s pillows probably felt like this. He moved to her thighs, then her feet and ankles. She moaned. It felt amazing. A sharp chill shot up her spine.  One of the candles had burned out. “How long have you been rubbing my back?” she inquired. “Long enough. Be right back.” He stopped and left the room. She heard water running and assumed he was washing his hands. She wanted to squeal in delight! This is bliss! This is my bliss! He returned. "Can you pass me my shirt?" she asked. “We aren’t done.” he said. His demeanor had changed. “Turn over.” he said. “Ok, pass me my shirt please.” Turn over.” He said. “She complied, hiding her breasts in a meek display. She lay back on the pillows still masking her breasts—and with that—he pounced.

He pinned her to the bed by the throat. She wasn't expecting it. Her eyes told him that much. Meanwhile his eyes prowled her body searching for a weak spot. He leaned in closely and let his lips graze her cheek. Goosebumps. His right handed grip on her windpipe firmed a bit as he began suckling on her lower lip leaving his left free to stroke her neck and ear lobe. She squirmed a bit when he grazed a part of her neck. Found it! He kissed it, nuzzled it, stroked it. She gasped.

Releasing his grip on her throat—he lay atop her. Her nipples were like pink diamonds cutting against his chest. Their legs were tangled. He took her face in his palms—his thumbs stroking her cheeks. He stared at her with doe eye curiosity and littered her face with kisses. Not forceful cliché kisses either. Each one soft. Each one firm. Each one with meaning. He didn’t leave an inch of her face uncovered. She purred.

After a time, he leaned in closely and nibbled on her ear lobe a bit. He began stroking her neck again—probing for a new spot. The first one worked, but it wasn't 'the one'. Without warning she jerked a bit—pulling him tightly against her body. BINGO! His tongue went to work attacking the new target. Veronica squirmed under his weight, digging her nails into the pillow. He bit down and she went fucking nuts!

 “I need you inside me, now!!” she screamed.

She scrambled to get his pants off with her right hand, while ripping her panties of in one fluid motion. "Damn! How strong is this broad?" he thought. It couldn’t be a cheap fabric either. Veronica Dauterive would never wear anything cheap. The mere notion was preposterous. “You ain’t ready and neither is your chiropractor.” He shushed her and began cooing in her ear. Her pussy was wet and pulsating.

He ran his tongue down her neck—stopping at her breasts. He popped a nipple in his mouth and began sucking softly while flicking his tongue simultaneously. He pinched the other with his free hand. This is too much!  she thought. He was pushing her over the edge. He alternated breasts with the same method for a bit and began trailing her abdomen with kisses and licks. He grabbed her thighs and pushed them forward. His face trailed towards her pussy. He paused and inhaled deeply. “You smell like ambrosia Roni.” he said. She was too flustered to respond. His face moved closer to her pussy, though he stopped right before he reached his destination—choosing to kiss her thigh instead. His tongue skimmed across her clit and she quaked in pleasure. His grip was like steel. He held her down and began nibbling on her inner thigh. 

“Please! I am begging you!!” she pleaded with him. Her cry was noted, but he didn’t comply. He simply trailed his tongue from one thigh to the other purposely skipping her quivering muffin. Occasionally he would tap her pussy lips with his tongue but that was the most she got. She reached down and attempted to rub her clit, but he grabbed her arm firmly and pushed it away. “You’re being a very bad girl Veronica.”

He climbed out of the bed and opened his dresser drawer. He pulled out a long black piece of fabric and returned to bed. He grabbed her hands and tied them before she even realized what was happening. She tried to move but he planned for this. The longest length of the fabric was looped through the bedpost and tied in a figure 8 knot. She wasn’t going anywhere. Truth be told, she didn’t want to. He climbed back into position. She was flustered and staring at him between her thighs. “What would you like me to do Veronica?” he asked. “Please!” she pleaded with him. “Roni, what would you like me to do?” he asked again. She needed him more than air.

“I want you to eat me.” she said.

 “What do you want me to eat?”

“Me.” she said.

“Veronica, what do you want me to eat?” he asked again.

“I want you to eat my pussy! Please!” she begged, showing no shame.

He buried his face in her box. His tongue slipped deep into her, while his upper lip landed on her clit. She squirmed and convulsed. “Ooooooooo.” She moaned. His tongue explored her slit. He lapped hungrily for a while, then moved onto to her clit. He sucked softly at first; occasionally rubbing his lips across it—then sped up a bit. He sucked harder—slipping his fingers into her pussy and stroked her g-spot simultaneously.  Jesus she is tight as hell! he thought “Yes! Just like that! Please don’t stop!” she screamed. “Baby, I love—“

Her sentiment was interrupted by his hand suddenly wrapped firmly around her throat. “Roni, you talk too much.” He returned to work—his right hand pinning her down by the neck.  He was now short a hand, but with his left he toyed with her nipple. All of this while licking her clit rapidly. She was almost there. Her thighs clasped around his head. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact it served as fuel. He retreated from her breast and slipped a piece sign into her. He began stroking upwards—directly behind her clit. She squirmed and writhed in pleasure.  She was at maximum capacity. She drenched his hand in nectar. He leaned in and went to work on her clit again. Taking her clit into his mouth, he sucked long and hard. A few moments later—that was all she wrote.


VALENTINES DAY:

Veronica exploded! Her pussy gushed and gripped his fingers like a vice. Her body buckled forward with so much force that she shredded her silk bonds and  broke a few of the headboard bars. Benji wasn’t ready for what happened next. After a brief pause she caught her breath. She pulled him closer and unbuttoned his pants. She jerked them off of him—almost tearing them. His cock was stiff and meaty. Shoving him down—she took his cock deep into her throat with the skill of a sword swallower. She wasn’t attempting to be cute about it either. She slurped and sucked on it like a pro until it felt like a stone wrapped in a thick layer of silk. Man his cock is so thick.  she thought. She squatted—hovering over it.

“Wait! Veronica, are you on the pill?” Benji asked.

“No.”

“Then get a condom.”

“No.”

With that, she slammed down onto his shaft; burying it deep inside her. Benji felt far too good to protest.  It was like being inside hot, soaking wet silk. She grinded on him hard; putting her full weight onto him. He reached for a breast, and squeezed, while stroking her nipple with his thumb. He was going to rub her clit with a free hand, but she beat him to the punch. “You are a freak huh.” he said between gasps. She rocked harder. “I’m gonna—“ she began; stopping short with a gasp.

Benji knew better.  He didn’t move. He let her do her. He had learned that you never changed methods when a girl was about to cum. Not if you want to sleep soundly at night. It’s one of the worst moves any man could make. In fact, most women don’t bother telling their men they are close to orgasm, for fear they might fuck it up.

TO BE CONTINUED........