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Baby Girl Ch. 01

By: NaomiRose



A romance told in Black and White

Maybe it was from all the stress that she felt lately. She had been back and forth from St. Louis for eight straight weeks with only a Saturday and Sunday's worth of rest in between. It could have been the burden of having to roll out a new advertising campaign for one of Broad & Heish's top clients; an opportunity that she graciously welcomed but had exponentially underestimated. 

Or maybe it was the fact that she had a first class seat on the emotional roller coaster of going with one of her dearest friends to an abortion clinic. She and Arissa had been with Vonda from the initial testing to the sickness afterwards. And through the entire process, it was as if she was having an outer body experience; she may as well have been the one on that cold, hard table having someone hold her hand. That was the most draining episodes she had ever bared witness to, and she prayed she would never have to go through it again, secondhand or otherwise. 

Whatever it was, fate had decided that she could handle just a little bit more of it. He was obviously someone who didn't know her very well, someone who had just eavesdropped on one of the conversations the other fictional apparitions were having about her. That is, if she believed in fate, which she didn't. So at the moment, she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, hoping that what she just heard wasn't true. 

"Kei?" Her mother had been calling her name for a few minutes now. After she had broken the news to her, she remained silent, allowing her only daughter time to absorb it all. Now all she heard on the other end of the phone was the steady increase of her breathing, a sure sign of the tears that would soon follow, and the light roar of the moving train in the background. "Kei, you're gonna be alright." 

Kerri was standing in one of the six cars on the metro when her mother had called. Despite all the drama she had been through in the past weeks, today she was feeling slightly relieved. She had actually gotten to the office before nine, which was a miracle in its own right, and work had been light since she considered herself to be ahead of schedule with finishing the Whitman campaign. Lunch with her two friends had been entertaining to say the least, and while out, she even managed to meet, talk to, and snag the number of a somewhat attractive gentleman by the name of Jamal. 

However, all of the day's pleasantries seemed to fade into nothingness. Kerri had slumped down in one of the vacant seats, her belongings sprawled out and abandoned at her feet, her head in her left hand as she tried to get a grip on her emotions while the right still held the phone tightly to her ear. Her body was starting to tremble because it had been too much. The car seemed too small, the people seemed too close, and whatever bit of oxygen left inside seemed thin and unable to reach her lungs. 

She was going to have a nervous breakdown right there in front of the professional men and women of DC. Complete strangers. Immediately, she wished she had driven to work that day. At least then she could've pulled over to the side of the road and cried until she was calmer. All she could do right now was try to keep it all in until the train stopped and let her off at her final destination. 

Kerri looked around briefly to see if anyone had been watching her. She wasn't too worried about that though, because most of these people had the New Yorker's attitude, and their world didn't exist outside the two-foot barrier they put up. 

The whistling wind of the train moving back underground as it headed into its next station caught her attention, so she cleared her throat to finally speak after what seemed like ages. 

"I'm going in a tunnel, mom. You'll be cut off." She wondered if her voice sounded as small to her mother as it did to her. 

"Okay, sweetheart. You just call me when you get home. I lo-," 

Sean had passed away. That night, he had been leaving the local bar in her hometown and had fallen asleep at the wheel resulting in a head on collision with a commercial truck. Her mother said he died instantly and felt no pain. All that was left now were the few details of his closed casket funeral and the dull ache in her heart. 

For the last twenty minutes of the trip she allowed herself to put on a glacial mask, void of all human emotion. She didn't think about anything, just sat and stared at nothing out of the glass window her heavy head rested upon. It wasn't until she had exited the train and gone through the gates towards the parking lot that her mind began to whirl and the first tear fell. 

She thought about what her mother had told her about him dying instantly. How did anyone know that? There wasn't anyone there with him. And how did they know if he was in pain or not? She couldn't recall any reports about the actual feeling of death. What if there was a massive, indescribable pain right before you died? What if he didn't die instantly? Maybe he had been alive just a few moments before the emergency vehicles got there. And how long did it take for someone to even notice the accident before calling 9-1-1 since it was so late at night? He could've been out there for hours, screaming for someone to help him for all she knew. It was a dark and gruesome image that made her stomach cringe.

He was only 27, a year older than she, and young people weren't supposed to die. What if he was the love of her life and she just didn't know it yet? They had been close during high school; most people thought they were a couple since they seemed to be joined at the hip. Walking back to her car, she recalled their first kiss, the one awkward time they almost had sex, and she remembered the phone call she received from him about a month ago asking to see her. Maybe he finally wanted them to get together and just couldn't say it over the phone. 

She knew she loved him or did love him, but she also knew she had never been in love with him. After high school, they were on two totally different paths. Hers was collegiate bound, a life to be guided by her studies, headed towards grad school and corporate America. Sean had just decided to go to junior college the year before. But that shouldn't matter. What was she, a snob now? Her best friend in the world just died and all she could think about was how it affected her. 

Somehow through the silent tears and blurry vision, Kerri made it to her car, although she couldn't recall spotting it out or heading in that direction. It took her a few minutes to locate her keys in the bottom of her purse, and she thanked God for the fact that she had even bothered to pick up her belongings off the subway floor. But when she held out the remote to deactivate the car alarm, nothing happened. She hit it a couple of times and tried again, aimed it at the hood and pressed the button down as hard as she could while her temper slowly began to rise. She had just purchased this damn replacement remote after having broken the original. 

She took a step back and looked at the automobile in front of her and then inside. This wasn't her car. It was the same make and model, same color, but those weren't her things in the seats. And her interior was made of charcoal leather, not this tacky gray fabric. Where was her car? She couldn't remember where she parked that day and there were still over a hundred cars in the lot. She didn't have the strength to go up and down the rows looking for it. Not now, not today. So, she just turned around, leaned against the one that was closest to her and broke down. 

At that moment she couldn't have stopped crying if she wanted to. She was vaguely aware of the people walking past her, going to their correct vehicles but caring less. It all had to come out and her body was releasing the stress right there at five forty-five in the middle of Anaheim Metro Station parking lot. It was as if the world had turned against her, and she had suddenly grown weary of the world. 

"Are you alright?" 

Kerri didn't raise her head in the direction the voice was coming from, but even in her distressed state she could tell he was making an effort at being sincere. She might have even responded if she hadn't been so upset, so frustrated, and now so angry by such an asinine question. Of course she wasn't alright. She was a young black woman in a business suit, leaning against a car that may or may not be hers, crying like a banshee in the middle of the day. Her eyes were red and puffy, she was positive that her nose was dripping, and for the life of her she couldn't stop trembling. 

She just shook her head no. 

"Um...are you unable to get into your car?" 

What?

She tried calming herself and wiped away some of her tears with the back of her hand. The stranger handed her a handkerchief, and she thought she thanked him, although in her current state it probably came out like gibberish. 

"This isn't my car." She said that as clearly as she could, standing up straight, realizing that she probably just ticked someone off by nearly plastering herself all over their vehicle. Kerri looked at the car, then at him. "I'm sorry, is this yours?"

"No," he responded, tapping the black Range Rover it was parked next to. 

"Oh," she sighed, leaning back against the one thing that provided her some support at the moment, a car that didn't belong to her. 

"Did someone steal your car? Do you need me to call the police?" 

"Yes. No! I mean, no. No, my car's not stolen; at least I don't think so." She handed him back his handkerchief, feeling a little bit better after getting the need to cry out of her system. "I don't...I can't remember where I parked."

Immediately, he sighed in relief, the tense and serious pained expression of his features melting away into what she assumed to be his usual calm and charming demeanor. "Is that all," he queried, his lips forming a half, lopsided smile, almost letting out a little chuckle at her answer. 

She just looked at him then, her face portraying each of her own emotions as they transitioned from hurt to bewilderment and then to anger. "No, I..." At first she was going to try to explain; she wasn't lost, she had just lost someone very dear to her. But she realized that it was none of his damn business, and there was certainly nothing humorous about it.

"I have to go." Quickly, she reached down and snatched up her purse and laptop bag, not even bothering to look at him as she walked past. 

Damn him, she thought. Damn him to...

Her last damnation was halted by a strong hand grabbing her wrist, thwarting her wishes to flee the scene of her humiliation. She paused without glancing back, her body still posed in flight mode, a moment frozen in time. Inwardly, she was in turmoil – just wanting to go home so she could cry like she wanted.

"I'm sorry," he offered, his voice low, soft and comforting, mixed with a little sadness reflecting his true sentiment. "I didn't mean to offend you. You're out here crying like - I just...I thought someone had hurt you."

Why did he have to say that? She wished he had said anything but that. It's bizarre how words of comfort could make her feel more mournful than she already was. Mockery, she could've handled, she would have just told him where to shove it and stalked away. But kindness...a stranger's kindness and compassion left her with no words, only tears that she tried desperately to hold back.

She turned towards him then, slowly, unable to actually look at his face. Her wrist was still caught in his unrelenting grasp and he sighed, pulling her into him for a much needed embrace.

What in the hell was she doing? She didn't want to be out here, standing in a metro station parking lot; she just wanted to go home. She needed to be in the privacy of her own condo were prying eyes wouldn't be able to bear witness to one of her most embarrassing moments. Where no one could see her acting like a five year old who had just been told that Santa Claus didn't really exist. It was strange, but her mind actually went back to that moment, recalling it vividly, the desperation of that heartbreaking experience making her cry all the more. She just wanted to stop. 

Kerri stood there with her face buried in his chest for an amount of time she wasn't certain of, only knowing that he let her and it was obviously long enough for her hysterics to taper into pitiful whimpers. This was exactly what she needed, to be comforted. And even though she had no idea who this man was, a thought that would've made her wary had she been thinking rationally, his presence soothed her. 

As she quieted, her senses began to focus on things other than her sniveling and erratic breathing. She was aware that he was murmuring something she couldn't quite make out, and that one of his hands was stroking the top of her head. 

She had been reduced to a child. 

Beginning to feel unbelievably stupid as she reached the hiccupping stage of her little episode, signaling the end, she tried to think about what she could possibly say to him when it was all over. He probably thought she was some lunatic PMSing. Too bad she wasn't older, because then she'd just blame the whole thing on menopause. 

"Is everything okay?" That was a woman's voice. 

Her eyes flew open, although all she could really see was a blurred piece of fabric that she assumed to be his tie. Certainly, she was in no mood to deal with a jealous girlfriend coming to claim her man. On the other hand, with the way her day had been going, getting into a catfight really wouldn't have surprised her that much. 

"We're fine, thanks," he answered, gently rubbing the back of the petite lady he held in his arms, waiting for her crying to cease. 

A door closed and an engine started. Taking that opportunity to peak out from underneath his arms, she saw a middle-aged woman pull off in a car that wasn't hers. 

"Feel better now?" He asked, now that her tears had stopped.

She simply nodded, turning her head to the side to rest on his chest because she was too embarrassed to actually look at him. More than that, she was comfortable. Realistically, she knew she couldn't just lay on him all day, but for right now, this felt good. 

"I feel like a complete idiot." 

He laughed a bit, the deep tones reverberating through her body like a bass drum. "You shouldn't feel so bad. Most people have years worth of stress bottled up inside. You're one of those few not ashamed to let it out." 

That was true, although she rolled her eyes at the comment. Was he trying to comfort or insult her? She wasn't a loose cannon, wondering around like most women who were unable to handle their emotions. Her emotions were always kept in tact. Usually.

"I'm not stressed..." she paused, her mouth opening and closing to nothing, not knowing how to complete that sentence. 

"Really," he asked, leaning back to look at her face. His lips held an all knowing smirk, a slight arrogance that told her he knew otherwise. "What are you then?"

Already, she hated him. 

Lowering her head, she exhaled and squeezed her eyes together for a moment. She was emotionally overloaded and didn't feel like playing his game of twenty-questions. She had already answered like...three. And this wasn't the Spanish Inquisition.

Even more distressing was the fact that she was acutely aware of her surroundings, or more to the point, who was surrounding her. He was strong, hard even, from what she could tell from his chest. Her diminutive body was still being crushed, although not unbearably so, by his. He still held her, caging her between the muscular column of his abdomen and his arms. 

His gray, metallic like gaze was doing strange things to the butterflies in her stomach, and faint whiffs of sandalwood and bergamot fluttered to her nose, intoxicating. She knew this had to stop.

"I..." Her voice wavered, and she used the palms of her hands on his chest as a brace to extract herself from his hold. She looked at him for a moment, not knowing what to say next, a few seconds passing before he finally dropped his arms to his sides. She retreated and he smiled...or smirked, she really couldn't tell.

"I want to apologize," she admitted bashfully, nervously twisting the chalcedony ring that donned her slender middle finger. "I didn't mean to have that...little episode...on...you," she awkwardly spat out, cringing at what the aftermath of her 'little episode' left on his lapel. "I'll pay for that," she whispered, staring sheepishly at the abstract mixture of burgundy eye shadow and black mascara that was now plastered on what seemed to be a very expensive gray suit.

"Pay for what?" He questioned, his brow cocking incredulously before he followed her gaze to his suit jacket. One corner of his mouth rose slightly as he lifted the fabric, taking out his previously used handkerchief to dab at the soggy mess. "No good deed, huh?" His eyes sparkled with amusement under thick lashes as he glanced at her.

"Sorry. I'll give-"

"I'm only joking," he interrupted, putting the white cloth away.

"Oh." Kerri looked at the ground, teetering from slingback to slingback, wondering whether or not she should just walk away and try to find her car or stay and explain the reasons for her irrational behavior. Mostly she wondered why he just stared at her. He made her nervous, intimated her. She felt like a child standing next to him. Maybe it was because of the way they met, maybe it was because he was simply...he was simply beautiful, actually. 

It was silly, really, but his chiseled features – the strong square jaw line, angular nose and cheek bones – reminded her of somebody's mythological god. And his lightly tanned skin and wavy golden-red hair that curled unto his forehead just above his thick eyebrows and tips of his ears belonged to someone straight off of California's coast, waiting anxiously for that next big wave. He didn't belong in a suit, he looked good in it, but he just seemed...unbridled. 

"Which way did you come in?"

Her mind faltered and she blinked, staring at him completely confused. "I...what?"

"When you drove through the gate," he chuckled again, "which way did you turn?" 

Apparently, she proved to be quite the little entertainer. She wanted to kick herself.

"Oh, um," Kerri glanced in the direction of the lot entrance, biting her bottom lip as she thought back to that morning. "Right, I think," her voice hesitant as she turned to face him again.

"Okay," he said, holding out his hand, her brows knitting in a silent question in response. "Keys," he explained.

She paused before she actually handed him her keys, considering the possibilities of putting herself in the hands of some insane mass murderer. What did she know about him really, other than he was a stranger and he was kind. A kind stranger...kind of strange. He was, in a word, fine. And for some odd reason, his attractiveness diminished any thoughts of him being a closet serial killer. 

The keys were held suspended a few inches above his open palm, and after a quick look into his trusting eyes, she dropped them in his hands. She could just see the headlines in the Washington Post now: 26-year-old Black Woman's Body Found in Metro Parking Lot – Murderer Helped Her Locate, Then Stole Her Car. 

What had her mother said about talking to strangers?

He flashed his half smile, that sexy grin, and began walking in the direction where her car might be. Kerri followed silently, just a few paces behind.

"What kind of car do you drive?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Oh, uh, it's a silver coupe. A Lexus." She watched as he held out the remote, aiming it in this direction and that, waiting for an alarm to trip. Clearly, she could have performed this mundane task herself. She was just thankful she hadn't parked in the garage; then they'd be up and down the levels all day. And she was pretty sure the last thing this curly mopped Adonis wanted to do was spend his Tuesday evening car hunting. It was a sport that hadn't quite caught on yet in the mainstream. 


Baby Girl Ch. 01



Uncle Nikki shoved the bra and panties and heels into my hands and sat back with Daddy on the couch. 

"Get dressed," Daddy said. 

Shaking I tugged off my shirt and slid off my pants, my eyes glued to Daddy and Uncle Nikki who scratched absentmindedly at his groin.

"Stop whining, you're nineteen!" Daddy barked. 

I unsnapped my bra and slid off my panties and pulled on the new bra and panties. I might as well have just stayed naked, the garments were going to come off anyway. My breasts were heavy with milk and felt as though they would bounce or tumble free at any moment of the bra. The shoes were murder to stand in and boosted my height from 5'2" to 5'7." 

Then Uncle Nikki produced a small stool and set it down in front of me. 

"Up," he said, snapping his fingers. 

Biting my lip, I stepped up onto the stool. One leg at a time. I sat in a squatting position as though they wanted me to urinate on command. 

Uncle Nikki stepped in front of me and unzipped his pants, his hard cock freed. Precum leaked from the tip and Uncle Nikki smeared it along his member as he held it close to my lips. I parted my lips for him to enter my mouth. His fingers threaded in my hair, he rocked his hips back and forth, then... SMACK! On my pussy. 

"She's already soaking," Daddy said, his breath hot on my skin. 

I gagged on Uncle Nikki's cock, he held himself in place, his balls rested against my chin and his cock half way down my throat. Daddy smacked my pussy again, caressing the soft fabric of my thong with his fingertips and I moaned into Uncle Nikki's cock as he bucked his hips gently against my face. 

I wobbled on the stool, struggling to hold my place but Uncle Nikki's bucking and Daddy's smacking plus the five inch heels I was wearing made it difficult. 

"Hold still," Daddy said. 

He cupped my pussy in his large hand and said, "You remember what happened the last time you couldn't keep your balance." 

I nearly bit down on Uncle Nikki's cock. My bottom was still sore and a little red from the other day. But as Uncle Nikki's thrusting increased, the more I wobbled on the stool. My breasts tumbled free of the bra and hung heavily beneath me, swaying each time Uncle Nikki's balls slapped my chin. But then Uncle Nikki cried out and my mouth was filled with the warm salty taste of cum. My foot slipped and THUD! as I landed hard on the stool cunt-first. Uncle Nikki cried out again. I thought he'd cum a second time but then he yanked me up by my hair and began to hit me about the face. 

"Bitch! I told you to watch your teeth!" he roared. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I cried, throwing up my hands to shield my nose and mouth. 

Keeping a tight grip on my hair, Uncle Nikki stepped backwards. Pulling me with him, he sat back on the couch, pulling me forward. My legs shook as I fought to keep from falling forward. 

There was a loud rip, I felt a breeze on my pussy, then felt my pussy pulsing as something rubbed and prodded my clit, running up and down my swollen lips. 

Leaking more precum Uncle Nikki smeared some on his finger and brought it to my lips and I licked his finger clean. I took his cock back into my mouth, his big hands caressing my back. Daddy circled my clit with his cock, lightly tapping my clit with the head. 

Uncle Nikki unsnapped my bra and reached beneath me, rolling my hard nipples between his fingers. His cock twitched in my mouth and he squeezed my nipples hard, his grunts getting louder and louder. 

I felt pressure on my ass, then stretching... It hurt. I did my best not to bite Uncle Nikki as I shut my eyes tightly. Daddy held my hips as he pushed his whole length into me till his balls rested against my sticky swollen lips. Grunting loudly, he bucked his hips hard and dug his fingers into my skin. His hips slapped against my ass and Uncle Nikki pumped my head up and down on his hard cock. 

I moaned into his cock as Daddy thrust harder into my ass as though he intended to rip me in two. My breasts swayed heavily beneath me, threatening to splatter the carpet with milk at any moment. My legs shook, the heels squeezed my toes but I held myself still. 

They came hard, their dual orgasms filling my ass and mouth. Daddy yanked me back against him by my hair, his cock still buried deep inside me, and I coughed up Uncle Nikki's cum. He just grinned, watching his load run down my breasts and belly, and beckoned me forward with a single hand. Still holding my hair, Daddy pushed me forward and down onto Uncle Nikki's lap. My legs straddled his waist as pushed me down on his cock. 

Uncle Nikki smiled at me and put his hands on my waist, sliding his hands up to cup my breasts, gently squeezing them and circling my nipples with his thumbs. He teased my nipples with his tongue and lips, kissing, sucking, gently nibbling my breasts. I risked a peek and looked down at him through my slitted eyes to see Uncle Nikki with his head buried in my breasts, little pearl white droplets decorated my nipples and his fingers. He smiled up at me, sucking one of my nipples between his lips and then the other. He massaged my breasts tenderly, coaxing a bit of milk to flow and he returned his lips to my full breasts. He bucked his hips gently, gently thrusting into me with Daddy. Daddy let out a soft sigh and let go of my hair, hugging my waist as he thrust into me. Their cocks separated by nothing more than just a bit of skin. I rested my head on Uncle Nikki's shoulder and moaned softly, closing my eyes, resting my hands on his shoulders. 

They were much more gentle this time, slowly thrusting into me, sandwiching me between the two of them. The air was filled with our moans, the soft sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet sound of their cocks moving in and out of my ass and pussy. 

Uncle Nikki's hairy chest became sticky with my milk as my breasts rubbed against him. 

"Irma you're making a mess," Uncle Nikki chuckled, gently pinching my ears. 

He hugged me tighter to him and Daddy did the same. They were hugging me so tightly I could barely move, or breathe. I let out a soft cry and daddy loosened his grip a little and lightly smacked my ass. 

"Do you want to cum sweetheart?" Daddy asked, his voice soft in my ear. 

He thrust a little harder into me, hugging me tighter to him. 

"Yes Daddy, please Daddy... Please Uncle Nikki," I moaned softly. 

Daddy kissed my shoulder, his whiskers tickled and scratched my skin. They got a little rougher, their cocks digging deeper into me. I felt I'd break apart. 

They roared as they both came, filling me with their cum and we collapsed together on the couch. Uncle Nikki with his head back, me with my head still resting on his shoulder and Daddy with his head on my shoulder as he stood on unsteady knees. He kissed my cheek and whispered softly to me, "Daddy loves you baby girl."



Baby Girl Ch. 01



Relief washed over her when she heard the familiar sounds of loud horns blaring amongst the quiet sea of metal and rubber, vying for her attention.

"I think this is you," he said with a wink, leading them in the direction of the noisy and flashing vehicle, disarming the alarm before handing her the keys.

"Thank you. I...thanks."

He simply nodded and smiled while she unlocked her doors. "You sure you're alright to drive?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll be fine." She held his gaze for a brief second while standing behind the open car door. He stood with his hands in his pockets, silently, patiently, like a man expecting a goodnight kiss at the end of a first date.

"Well, uh, I should probably get going."

"You probably should," he agreed.

"Thank you, again."

"You're very welcome."

Kerri broke their eye contact and turned to slip gracefully into the driver's seat. She didn't look out her window until she had put on her seatbelt and started the ignition, and when she did, he was walking back in the direction that they came. 

Her sorrows momentarily forgotten, she watched his form from a distance for as long as she could until he turned and disappeared, melting into the backdrop. Briefly, he had been exactly what she needed. A small space in time that lasted no more than twenty minutes, but to her, he had been like a knight. She wrinkled her nose, daring herself to finish that melodramatic cliché of a thought. This wasn't a fairytale, it was her life. And just as she was about to release her seatbelt so she could go and ask him his name and maybe...well, she hadn't figured that part out yet, she saw his vehicle leave through the gates – his shining armor.

It was probably for the best.

She laid her head back and blew out slowly, thinking about all she had to look forward to in the upcoming weeks, realities she didn't want to face. The middle of 'Light Years Away' greeted her solemn mood once she turned on the radio but she refused to cry anymore. She was tired and stronger than that. There would be time for tears later; right now she just wanted to be home.

* * *

Her end of day ritual began once she entered her condo, going through the motions as she delayed the inevitable. Kerri turned on the stereo, changed her clothes and tried to find something to clean, becoming irritated upon finding everything spotless and in its place. 

"Damn maid service," she grumbled to no one in particular. 

Forty minutes later, she found herself in her kitchen, leaning against the counter with a bottle of water in one hand and the phone in the other. She'd have to check her messages, call Sean's mother, her job to let them know she'd need some days off. Vonda, she thought. She'd have to call Vonda since she hadn't heard from her yet. That either meant she didn't know or she did but was just to upset to talk. They had all been close growing up in her small hometown and she wasn't too sure Vonda could handle another loss. 

But first, she placed the bottled water on the marble counter and slowly slid to the floor, her knees sliding up to meet her chest once she reached the bottom. She pressed speed dial and held her breath, waiting anxiously until someone picked up the other end.

"Mom..." She sighed, knowing that talking to her mother would make everything alright.



Baby Girl Ch. 02



Wanting to Run Away and Hide

For every year of her childhood, there had been some moment that seemed to shape her life, good or bad, leaving its impression upon her mind, molding her into who she was to become. Those sad times though, those always seemed to stand out more. They were the thoughts that were easily found when trekking back through time. Not to be misunderstood, her childhood was blessed. Everyday she thanked God for her family. She was a happy child, easy going, unspoiled, respecting adults, admiring her elders, eager to sit on the lap of her Nana to feast upon whatever pearls of wisdom she'd be willing to share. 

Very few times would she have to be spanked, her mother the one to make her go out to fetch her own switch to perform the task. That short walk to the edge of woods behind their simple two story brick home, along with the anticipation, proving more painful than the spanking itself. 

Her brother of course...or quite to the contrary, having been born two years and a few months earlier, had not acquired those protective brotherly traits until after hitting puberty. There was never hatred or jealousy between them, never did he purposely abuse or mistreat her, but being so close together in age and yet being older, made him loath an obligation to which he had never once agreed. To put it simply, he viewed Kerri as a brat. 

Being told to let her tag along when he and his friends were out finding this buried treasure or invading that kingdom, having her sit in on the powwows of their secret hideaway even though she didn't know the password, and when the rules had explicitly stated 'No Girls Allowed' – so that she became the Indian when they were the Cowboys and the dragon when they were the knights. "You take your sister with you, Jeffery," they'd say after her whining and his objections had finally worn out strained nerves. "There aren't any little girls for her to play with 'round here. She's smaller than you, she can't do no harm."

But her views were different from that of her brother's, not seeing herself as a burden or thorn in his side, just as the little sister who got to be included in on the day to day activities of her hero. It was of course during these many reluctant adventures that he allowed her, that she came to know Sean. He stood up for her, doted upon her, paid her attention when Jeffrey, not for lack of love, shunned her. 

Fragmented pieces of memories woven together grey and frayed around the edges, had at some point confused the two. So when she thought on it, it became hard to remember who was there when she fell off the barstool in her Great Grandmother's house and broke her arm, or which one had comforted her after the death of her dog – only knowing there was never a time when she had ever felt completely lost or alone. Those boys, being the only male figures in her life while growing up, cast a shadow of protection over her.

As she got older however, it was not out of the ordinary for her to remind Jeffrey about the terrible child he had once been. Speaking of one occasion quite often that happened at the ripe ol' age of nine. The sound of her older, but still very mischievous, somewhat devious brother's voice rang clear in her head. "All I did was throw it!" The excitable eleven year-old, slightly dirty from the days exploring and usual activities tried desperately to explain to his Nana. Her loving hand held a dish rag with a few pieces of cooling ice against the angry red knot that was now forming above his sister's right eye. "But she ran into it!" He was yelling his excuses, praying they could be heard by the little old lady over the screams and cries coming from the inconsolable child. Nana was fairly quiet, whispering soothing words to the girl with no avail. The boy too was almost on the verge of tears, knowing full well the fate that awaited him. He would stall as long as he could when sent back outside to fetch his switch.

"I think I still have a bump right there," she said even now while they sat on the steps of Nana's front porch. Subconsciously, she rubbed her forehead and then smacked him lightly on the arm for laughing at her.

"There's nothing there," he replied, his mouth twisting sideways in suspicion. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you did something to get me in trouble that day. I retaliated."

"Before or after you threw a walnut at my face?"

"Yeah, yeah," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. 

There was a light breeze in the air, cool and crisp, a little chilly still from the remnants of winter. She grasped at the sleeves of her pale butter cardigan, pulling the bottoms over her hands, enclosing her arms around herself. Her legs moved closer together under the coverings of full cotton voile skirt, one shoeless foot awkwardly resting atop the other. 

It was so calm, so peaceful, everything refreshingly clean on a sunny day right after a brisk spring shower. She had been sitting there for a little over half an hour, debating on whether or not to give in to the grumblings of her stomach, tempted by the familiar aromas of her Nana's famous Sunday dinner when her brother had joined her outside. 

"I can't believe we didn't even get a chance to see him one last time." Her words were like a plea. Sean's death was hard, so hard for them both, but Kerri, for the first time in her life, was totally, utterly heartbroken.

"I don't think you would've wanted to see him, not like that."

"I guess," she mumbled in agreement. "I just can't believe he's gone, Jeff. Maybe I don't want to believe it. Any minute now I'm expecting him to pull into the yard and curse me out because I didn't tell him I was coming home." 

A sad, wistful sigh escaped her lips. Placing her chin in the palm of her hand while her elbow rested on one knee, she fixed her eyes on the dirt road leading into her grandmother's graveled driveway. The feeble hopes that the next cloud of red dust traveling along Winetrap Lane would belong to a dark green Jeep Wrangler twinkled in her hazel irises. The thought was justifiably insane.

"Why didn't I call him when I had the chance?" 

"He knew that you loved him." Jeffrey wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a comforting embrace, gently squeezing, speaking pointedly to ensure she understood. "That's all that really matters." 

* * *

Yesterday seemed light years away, even though it was just yesterday that Sean was buried, and just yesterday she returned to Northern Virginia, yet the day wouldn't allow her a moment's reprieve. Even before she had gotten off Powhite Parkway on route to I-95 north, she was being told via voicemail and Blackberry that there was a flight booked for her out of Reagan National to Boston. 

What was meant to be a day to reflect, allowing for one solitary moment to actually breathe without being plagued with the curious sensation of drowning, was instantly snatched away. 

"Collin's being pulled in on the Dennison project, so you're needed for tomorrow's orals." 

Kerri sat quietly in the chestnut leather chair, her back relaxed, head tilted to the side, arms and legs crossed, her foot bouncing in time with the 'tap, tap, tap' of the silver pen in his hand against the mahogany desk. 

"I know this is last minute – that today was your day off..." 

She'd been staring at that pen for the last few minutes, her foot moving up and down, up and down to the rhythm, fascinated by that annoying noise, almost in trance, so that when it stopped mid air, her movements suddenly ceased and her head jerked forward so she was looking directly into his weary blue eyes.

"Kerri, we're in a bind here," he continued, that rapt cadence resuming once he was convinced he had her attention. "But you worked on the RFP; I'm assuming the material should be second nature by now." Arnold Twitchum, old man Twitchum as he was affectionately called, was seated behind his desk, his posture slightly hunched from age and stress. The wrinkles surrounding his eyes and lips, the subtle sag of his cheeks, the liver spots on his pale hands, making him appear older than a man who had not yet reached his sixties. 

"Mr. Twitchum, it has nothing to do with my familiarity of the account." Her brows knitted together involuntarily when she said this, his questioning of her knowledge of any project she's worked on striking a cord. "Michael asked for my help in the beginning because Kim quit. I'm not pre-sales," she stated simply.

Pursing his lips together briefly like that of a fish, as was his custom while deep in thought, he stilled the pen in his hand, grabbing it at both ends between thumb and forefinger, applying pressure as if to break it, to finally place the pen carefully on the desk in front of him. "I am quite aware of that Ms. Britton," he said, switching to the formalities of using last names. "You should also be aware of what moving to pre-sales would mean for you. A promotion of sorts, higher pay, more responsibility—"

'More stress' is what she wanted to say, the words resting right there on the tip of her tongue which was pressed tightly against her teeth to keep any rebellious phrases from escaping. She wished to scream to him 'Go to Hell!' would've loved more than anything to just say 'Shove it!' These thoughts simply being swallowed down instead. They were pointless, a waste of time, knowing full well she would never get up the nerve to actually do what she really felt. Such last minute demands never surprised her. The only annoying part being the fact that they were always presented in the form of a question suggesting she had a choice in the matter when there was really no choice at all. 

But she loved her job, and repeating this affirmation under her breath at her desk while making preparations for tomorrow's presentation, 'I love my job, I love my job,' she hoped that at some point she'd believe it. And Boston was only an hour's flight away besides. Maybe this would provide some much needed distraction from the current state of her emotional affairs. 

There had always been a slight apprehension when it came to flying, although it seemed to be her primary job function. Whether it was for an hour or eight, the thought of being 30,000 miles up, soaring over ground never settled right within her gut. And as the flight attendant did that usual spill about being able to stay afloat upon the seat cushion should the plane happen to take a nose dive into the middle of the Atlantic, she swallowed down that still and persistent fear, her mind focusing on - and at the same time ignoring - the words of the man seated beside her in first class.

The talking began and had not ceased since the pair bumped into each other during baggage screening. He had caught her unawares. Stripped down to a crepe and silk blouse, grey skirt and satin hosiery, her hand rested lightly on one of the bins that held her belongings while she waited in line at security. She had been staring, oblivious of her surroundings and the vague look of disgust that marred the delicate features of her face, at a couple a few feet in front of her who had just made it out on the other side. 

It fascinated her, the lack of discretion that some people tended to exhibit in public places. Making absolute spectacles of themselves. They were obliviously in love or lust, fairly young she supposed and still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. The two had been snuggling, hugging and kissing, sickeningly so, since ticketing and were now making a show of their PDAs to anyone who was pathetic enough to participate as a voyeur. 

The lady, small in stature, just a little over five feet tall with long, wavy blonde hair that grazed her tailbone, fit snuggly into her gentleman's side, his hand wrapping possessively around her tiny waist as he bent down, easily towering over her, to lay kisses along her jaw and neck. Her giggles floated past some of the female TSAs who rolled their eyes at the spectacle to Kerri's ears. He turned her then to his other arm; breaking contact long enough so the two could retrieve their property from the conveyor belt. 

The scene captivated her, annoyed her, and she wondered at the prospect of ever being one to act 'that way' in front of a group of strangers. Slobbering each other down as if they were the last drink of precious water in the Sahara. Her nose turned upward slightly, feet planted in place, her ears blocking out noise of the outside world while her thoughts turned inward about love won and hopelessly lost. 

As amber colored eyes began to mist over, almost blindly, her head dropped and she scolded herself. She would not cry, she would not cry. And it was this...need to cry that angered her, enraged her. She had never been this sentimental, this much of a baby as she had proven to be in the last few days. There was something that was broken or missing. Something had to be missing from within her. 

But she would not think on it. 

Blinking back tears and faking a sneeze once she walked through the metal detector to present the attendant with her boarding pass, she dabbed at her eyes with her hand, continuing to look down. There was a pause, a deliberate hesitation on his part while she waited impatiently for him to give her back her ticket. She could feel him staring at her. 

Frustration showed on her face when she finally gazed up at him. Her irritation with this man totally unwarranted and unfair, but the smile on his lips seemed to strike a nerve. 

"Here you go, beautiful sista," he said sweetly, suavely, flashing his pearly white teeth. She nearly snatched the ticket out of his hand.

It was as she was slipping her satiny clad foot into her three inch, d'Orsay pump, making a silent vow to swear off all men forever, for whatever irrational reason, that she heard him calling her name from a few yards away. Her hopes of not running into him until after they had arrived in Boston were immediately dashed.

"McAllister's been CEO for nearly 15 years. He and Twitchum go way back...both Phi Beta Kappa at Yale, both Navy vets, both spend their summers on neighboring property in the Hamptons. This one's ours to lose." 

Michael Crofton was your everyday pushing 40-something, it's almost time to contact the 'Hair Club for Men,' blonde hair, blue eyed Sales Director from southern Maryland. He had been with the firm for seven years, currently setting his sights on that Communications Exec spot since Twichum's right hand man was expected to retire later in the year. And this was the perfect account to get him there. He was giving her a brief history on Richard McAllister, the mogul, the visionary, the man they'd have to convince of Broad & Heish's ability to increase profit margins by substantial amounts. 

"He's innovative, fresh. A far cry from Twitchum, but just as methodical." 

Having heard it all before, she silently thumbed through the latest edition of Northwest's 'WorldTraveler' magazine, her eyes merely roaming over the letters which had not yet begun to form words in her mind. It wasn't as if she was disinterested in what he had to say. She understood the importance of this project and the market the firm would be able to penetrate upon a successful win. But she wasn't a braggart or a suck up, nor did she speak simply for the sake of hearing herself talk, all of which could be used to describe Michael to a tee, who was seemingly unconcerned that he spent most of his career behaving like a bag-less upright just to impress the client. 

She did her best to cope.

They were scheduled for the second slot of the day, number two in a line up of four separate firms gunning for that 4.5 million dollar contract. The goal was simple. Put forth a campaign that could and would change the image of the pharmaceuticals conglomerate. One that could win back favorable public opinion in a climate where 'Big Drug,' just like 'Big Tobacco,' was often deemed a society evil. It was a dirty job...

"The global market will more than double in value in the next 10 years. A market driven by the demand for medicines as the population grows, ages and becomes more obese and as chronic conditions and infectious diseases tied to global warming increase. But the current pharmaceutical business model is unsustainable and the industry must fundamentally change the way it operates if it is to capitalize on future growth opportunities." Kerri paced slowly in the front of the board room, her words deliberate, purposeful, looking each person in the eye before continuing. "It is our job, ladies and gentlemen, to redesign that model."

It was easy, mechanical almost, for her to turn off emotions for the sake of her trade. To lose herself in it. She had become a master at selling because she could project whatever she was feeling at that time into the art. She could make you believe it and believe in it, even if she didn't. A professional liar, akin to a lawyer. At times it made her cringe.

There was little down time for her after that, being short-listed for the contract proving to be more of a curse than the blessing that it was. Twitchum was ecstatic, murmuring of victory prematurely and smiling to himself more than usual as if he were privy to some information his subordinates were yet unaware. 

Many late evenings found her at the firm. The war room becoming a home away from home as the team mulled over new strategies and marketing ideas just in case of a win. Take out Thai had become a staple in her diet, the mastery of chopsticks only icing on the cake. She was drowning herself in her work. Maybe purposefully. Yet it did not have any effect on her social life, which was pretty much nonexistent to begin with.

"You really should call him back, you know."

The reply was merely the agitated rise of neatly primed eyebrows which would have gone unnoticed had the protagonist not been looking directly at Kerri from across the conference table. Although, instigator, was more of the term that Kerri thought suited her at the moment. The words nosy and insistent flashed through her mind as she began to think of fitting synonyms. But she knew this pushiness was all out of love and chose to simply ignore the woman all together. For an instant, the writing of her pen stilled when she heard this sentence, the words coming from nowhere since they had been working in silence for the last 45 minutes. But this too now went on as if the statement had never been said after she realized who 'him' was.

The woman, the instigator, stared at her with short patience and decided it best to continue the conversation even if it was one-sided. "You do realize he's called here three times this week." 

Kerri glanced up, just briefly, to ensure they were the only two occupying the war room. Over the last half hour, having been so engrossed in her work, she hadn't notice anyone come or go. Now thankfully, gratefully, no one else was there to hear this woman spew all the gory details regarding her personal life.

"Didn't you say he was attractive?"

There was the sound of a deep inhale of breath, followed by a low and terse, "Yes." But her head stayed low, the pen still moving at a whirling speed across the paper as if in agitation. For a few precious seconds, nothing else was said. Kerri assumed the subject had been dropped. 

"So..." she ventured cautiously, sliding some folders to the side so that she could fold her arms comfortably on the table, "are you going to call him?"

"Mary Beth, please!" Her voice was hushed even though they were alone. The writing ceased. There was an amused look of triumph on her assistant's face and Kerri barely held in the need to roll her eyes. "Do we really have to talk about this now?" She asked, still whispering. "I know he's called. I got his messages." 

"I know you got the messages. I gave them to you," Mary Beth stated plainly, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. Her chin now rested lazily in the palm of her left hand, her head tilted slightly to the side. "I just think it would be good for you. Good to focus on something other than this campaign."




Baby Girl Ch. 02



"Daddy loves you baby girl," Daddy whispered in my ear. 

A smile curled on my lips, then Daddy lifted me off Uncle Nikki and set me gently on the floor. 

"Now go upstairs and wash, get ready for bed," Daddy said, patting my cheek. 

It hurt to walk. There was a throbbing pain between my legs and in my ass. I had to crawl up the stairs. 

As I entered my room, Momma was sitting on my bed. She was dressed her pink night shift, her dark hair up in a bun. 

"Back already?" she said with cheerful sarcasm. 

She stood up. 

"Look at you, you're filthy," she hissed. 

I was silent for a moment. I'd only just gotten upstairs, I hadn't even turned on the shower. 

"I'm sorry Momma," I said. 

"You always say that but you don't mean it," Momma said. 

"I do mean it Momma, I always mean it," I said. 

Then Momma took out a tape measure and started to measure me. I don't know why she bothered. They were always the same, 

bust- 42D 

waist- 37 

hips- 40 

I'd barely grown an inch since I was sixteen. 

"It's been a month since you had the baby and you still haven't lost any weight!" Momma said. 

She picked up a corset, it was light pink and trimmed with black lace, and helped me into it. She laced me tightly, so tight I could barely breathe. When I looked in the mirror I felt as though the weight of my breasts would break my back if I leaned backwards. 

"Please can I take it off Momma? It hurts, it cuts into me," I said. 

"No. You want to act like a little whore then you'll learn to be one, now on your knees," Momma said. 

I knelt on the floor and Momma tugged off her shift. She picked up a strap-on dildo and slipped into it. 

"Open your mouth," she said. 

I didn't. 

"Open your mouth!" Momma repeated. 

I still refused. Then Momma grabbed me by my hair and smacked me about my face. I flung my hands up to protect my face but that didn't stop her and forced my mouth down on the strap-on dildo. She tightened her thighs on my head and moved to beat me on my back. I choked on the dildo and pushed against Momma but she tightened her thighs the more I struggled. I cried into the strap-on and Momma hit me harder, then she relaxed her legs and I pulled back off her but she didn't let go of my hair. She bent me over the bed and lightly stroked my breasts with her fingertips, dragging them from my nipples and along my sides, over my back and to my bottom, then repeating her gentle strokes. 

I closed my eyes and relaxed under her touch, it was so much more pleasurable than her smacking me. She tenderly cupped my breasts, rolling my hard nipples between her fingers. 

"You're leaking again," Momma said. 

I peaked over my shoulder to see Momma smiling and sucking her fingers, then I looked down at the bed spread to see a few little dark spots on the quilt. 

SMACK! on my ass. Momma giggled and smacked me a few more times. 

"Cathy, look over your shoulder," Momm said. 

I looked over my shoulder. Momma shook her hips, waving the strap-on dildo at me. 

"You see what I'm going to fuck you with?" Momma said sweetly. 

I nodded quickly, biting my lip. 

She rubbed the head of the dildo up and down from my ass to my pussy and back. She settled with my pussy and pushed all of the dildo in me in one motion. She didn't start gentle or slow, she went ahead, roughly pounding my pussy. Her hips slapped against my ass, the strap-on's sack smacking my clit, her fingers dug into my skin. The corset, laced so tightly, seemed to be growing tighter round me with each thrust. 

"Momma I can't breathe!" I cried out. 

She ignored me, thrusting into me. 

"Momma please!" I cried. 

She was unrelenting, pounding harder and harder into me. I gripped the quilt tightly, my knuckles had gone white. 

Then Momma slowed her pace and pulled the strap-on from my pussy and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived, as Momma stroked my clit with her hand and then pushed the dildo back into me. She thrust into me with quick shallow thrusts. My pussy tightened round the dildo and I cried out but Momma refused to allow me to cum. 

"Roll over," she said, smacking my back. 

And I rolled onto my back for her. She knelt over my face. I let my tongue stroke her inner thigh, slowly traveling up, the tip dancing on her clit. She moaned softly, running her hands over my breasts. She gently squeezed them, rolling my nipples between her fingers. 

"You got me so wet," Momma moaned. 

I moaned into her pussy as she massaged my breasts. I felt my breasts leaking but Momma didn't say anything, and I sucked gently on her clit, planting soft kisses on her swollen lips. Then she lifted herself off me and laid down, allowing me to rest my head against her belly. she kissed my breast and fondled the other, sucking gently on my nipple. 

"Stroke yourself," she whispered to me, kissing my nipple. 

I let my hands wander down the smooth fabric of the corset and to my parted legs, stroking my clit with two curious fingers and exploring the opening of my pussy with my other hand. I fingered myself with two fingers and massaged my clit with my thumb. I came slowly, my lip trembling, and Momma kissed my forehead. 

"Mommy's sorry," she said, and kissed me again.



Baby Girl Ch. 02



"And a man is that something?" There was absolutely no reason for her to be upset, not the least bit heated at where this conversation was possibly headed and she knew it was unjustified. But she couldn't stop the prickly beginnings of anger from rising up her spine. At any other time, Mary Beth's usual bantering would have rolled quickly off her back.

"Well...yes. You need a distraction. I think," she stated with the shrug of a shoulder, "I think you're closing yourself off on purpose. I think going out with someone new just for kicks and giggles will do you some good."

"I've known Jamal for all of two minutes. Don't you think it's a bit creepy for him to be calling so much so soon? It's like...it's...stalkerish!" Her eyes widened the moment the word was spoken for emphasis, her voice still just above a whisper while she talked. "And what I'd like to know is how he got my number in the first place?" She finished with an accusatory tone.

Mary Beth simply waved her hand, dismissing the last statement altogether as if the 'how' and 'why' mattered little. "All I'm saying is that you need to have a little fun. With the way you're working, you're going to be burnt out by the time you turn 30 – a lonely, grouchy old maid and all before the age of 30."

Her mouth hung slightly agape at the snug expression on older woman's face. She'd just been insulted! And Mary Beth had struck a nerve. Kerri wasn't grouchy and was far from whatever it was that Mary Beth considered an 'old maid' to be. Lonely...well, she had friends, best friends that had been with her through highs and lows for as long as she could remember and her family was never more than a phone call away. 

Kerri's lips formed a tight line across the smooth expanse of honey brown skin, her eyebrows furrowing as several thoughts about her life ran through her head. Lonely. "I'm not lonely, Mary Beth." The whispering had ceased, although now her steady, even voice was tempered with frustration. "And contrary to what you seem to believe, I'm quite satisfied with the way my life is right now." It was a lie that sounded like the truth in anger.

"I know you're probably still hurting," Mary Beth offered, docile tones seeping into her manner of speech. Whatever teasing that may have been implied earlier was now completely gone from her countenance. Her face appeared serious, her pale green eyes somewhat sad. 

Kerri hated it, absolutely hated being the recipient of pity, but she knew what was coming next. Her head shook slightly back and forth, her words coming out as they had before, in a soft whisper. She wasn't ready to talk about this yet. "Not now, Mary Beth." 

The older woman sighed, but relented. And Kerri tried once again to focus on her work. 

* * *

It was her own fault, she surmised, for even broaching the topic with her two partners in crime. Her so-called friends, she thought warily. When trying to reflect on why she brought it up in the first place, she found no reason, other than sheer curiosity in what their opinions might be. And she may have rationalized that if they considered it to be a good idea, something that she – according to everyone else around her – obviously needed, maybe she'd do it. 

Go out it with him. Call him up. They were making a big deal out of nothing and she suddenly began to feel silly about the entire thing. No. She just wanted to forget about it and work and sulk as she had been. But they both jumped onto the subject with talon like claws and refused to let it drop. She'd slap herself later.

Kerri rested an arm on the plush maroon loveseat in Arissa's living room, her legs tucked underneath her while seated on the floor, her eyes moving between one friend to the next and back to finally settle upon Vonda. 

Seconds from rolling her eyes, Vonda jerked her crossed feet off the coffee table, however briefly, to allow Arissa access to swipe away whatever invisible dust she saw with a Swiffer cloth. With an exaggerated sigh, she placed them back, taking a sip of her iced tea, her lips twisting to the side slightly before she spoke. "Why do you ask us to come over here if you insist on cleaning around us like we're bric-a-brac on a shelf?"

Arissa simply cocked one brow, muttered something about a 'pig sty' and never stopped dusting, deciding that her best defense was simply to ignore. "So, how did he get your number any way?" 

"Mary Beth," Kerri answered offhandedly. "I made the mistake of telling her about him. I'm sure she took it upon herself to call."

"I don't know why you have that white woman all up in your business." 

"You're all up in my business, Vonda." Best girlfriends since elementary school, Mrs. Semester's second grade class to be exact, Kerri pretty much ignored most of Vonda's comments. Not that she didn't trust her friend, but Vonda was a radical, a conspiracist, forever believing that 'the man' was out to get her and any other non-suspecting minority citizen. And the fact that her mother was indeed half European made her actions all the more bemusing. "And I happen to like that white woman," Kerri continued. To which Vonda only grunted.

"So, let's see," Arissa went on completely unfazed, immune to the bickering between the other two ladies. They had always been more like sisters, really. "He's single, has a job, a car...a Mercedes if I'm not mistaken–"

There was a light snort of amusement before Vonda spoke the words, "C-class," the statement laced with such disdain, suggesting that something as trivial as the model type not only reduced the value of a car, but that of its owner as well.

They both glanced in Vonda's direction, who drank from her glass quietly as if nothing had ever been said.

With a click of her tongue, Arissa resumed. "What is the problem exactly? There's no harm in just meeting him for lunch or something. I mean, how long has it been since you've been out with a guy?"

"Apparently, not long enough." 

"Leave the girl alone, Rissa. She obviously doesn't want to be bothered with him." Vonda got up from the sofa with a languid stretch and yawn. The sun was just beginning to set; the sky beyond the sliding glass door turning an ashen pink, its glow making everything it touched appear well worn and dull. For a few hours now, the three had been lounging, watching movies and gorging on confections from the corner bakery. 

"Thank you," Kerri approved with a smile.

"And if she wants to be alone for the rest of her life," she teased, walking towards the kitchen to place her empty glass in the dishwasher, "that's her business."

"I said, Thank you." 

Soft laughter could be heard coming from the nearby room.

"Well, you know what I think."

"Yes, Rissa, I know what you think." 

"I think he's cute." 

"He's short." 

Arissa balked at the observation, but before she could object, Kerri held up a hand to continue. "You don't have to worry about that because you're only five-two. If I can look them in the eye..." She made a gesture of pointing two fingers towards her face then back at Arissa, "they're too short." Although Kerri wasn't exactly an Amazon herself at only five feet-six inches, to her, any man under six feet just didn't fit the bill. 

"Stop being so picky. He was still taller than you, and you had on heels!"

And on and on it went until she finally left. Arissa could be absolutely relentless when trying to get her point across and she made sure Kerri was aware of how she felt about at least giving Jamal a chance. How often was it that she met a young, single, professional black man these days, anyway? Was she crazy?! But he wasn't the only topic of conversation that night, though the theme of 'all things male' was at the forefront of their thoughts, per usual. 

It still surprised her however, that she found herself seated outside on the bistro's garden patio waiting for her date to arrive. Though she certainly wouldn't call it a date. It was simply lunch...during the workday, and she had to eat. A little place situated on Wisconsin Ave in downtown DC was the selected spot since he revealed that he worked two blocks from that location. A Thai restaurant. She didn't have the heart to tell him that just the mention of the word 'Thai' was beginning to make her stomach lurch. 

Kerri graciously accepted given that it was walking distance from her office, and it was predicted to be a balmy spring day. Fresh air would do her good. Several times before leaving however, she'd been tempted to call him back and cancel. Mary Beth, blood hound that she was, seemed to anticipate this and kept her distracted the entire morning until the idea was abandoned and it was too late.

But she loathed first dates, loathed dating period for that matter. The whole getting to know you with the same boring questions about why she was still single or what it was that she did for a living, what she liked to do for fun, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, it all sat her teeth on edge. Maybe she was a grouch. 

No, she thought, she wasn't a grouch. She just knew what she wanted. Conversation that flowed on its own accord as days went by without having to be forced by the prattle of a million questions, the cascade of emotions that resulted from just a fleeting glance, perception of mood, passion, sheer contentment. She wanted someone that she already knew, someone that already knew her. A longing sigh escaped her, "Simply impossible." The words drifted like a prayer from pouty lips.

A smile was plastered on her face when she finally saw him stepping out onto the patio. It felt forced, so she lessened it just a little when she began to feel the strain at the corners of her mouth. She could only imagine how she looked in the process, possibly like she was suffering from a mild stroke.

He recognized her immediately. His eyes lit up and seemed to sparkle as he grinned at her, the dimples on his face prominent against coffee colored skin. Dressed in business casual with dark tan slacks, a beige and blue striped dress shirt sans the tie, he sauntered over to her table. Holding out his right hand as he approached, he let his gaze roam over her briefly as if accessing or perhaps remembering their first, albeit brief, encounter. And though he tried to do this as modestly as possible, the slight didn't go unnoticed.

One brow rose in response to this as she stood from her seat. Somewhere deep down she squelched the desire to reach out and slap him. There was a short hesitation before she actually reciprocated the friendly gesture of a handshake, which he immediately discerned.

When his dark brown irises finally lifted of their own accord – this entire episode only happening in a manner of seconds – he burst out laughing at the sourness of her facial expressions.

"I'm so sorry," he offered, though through his chuckling, the sentiment hardly seemed sincere. "I really didn't mean to do that."

Kerri was taken aback, not really knowing what to think. Confusion, even a bit of annoyance, began creeping into her countenance. Her weight shifted to one foot, her body language expressive of the irritation she felt. Almost...almost a hand was about to settle on the upturned hip, but she kept it at her side. At that moment she was seriously considering leaving the fool there, right where he stood in the middle of the courtyard, laughing to himself. This was absolutely ridiculous. 

As he shook her hand, he threw up his left, gesturing in mock surrender. "I promise," he declared, this too was said in jest. "I'm not a dog." 

* * *

Despite her warranted reservations, at some point during that lunch she found herself warming up to Jamal. A few minutes passing before she actually said anything however, their initial encounter still heavy on her thoughts. She didn't know how to take him. At last deciding that she wasn't overly offended, even by him practically undressing her with his eyes, which in itself, she knew, was an exaggeration of what truly transpired.

Immediately, she found him to be a jokester, and she laughed in spite of herself. He was a character, in every sense of the word – funny, charming, witty. And to his credit, he didn't ask her any cliché questions. As a matter of fact, he really didn't ask her many questions at all. Their conversation just flowed like she was talking to an old friend...or laughing at one. 

Towards the end of their little date, yes, she was finally admitting it was now a date, she even began to offer a few tidbits about her own life without having to be abetted. 

And Arissa was right. He was taller than she, even in her heels. Although, barely.

For the most part she kept it to herself, her going out with Jamal, since she was still on the fence about the situation. The two had met for lunch on quite a few occasions for last couple weeks following their first, ahem...date. But Kerri, for the life of her, couldn't make up in her mind on whether she was attracted to him or not, at least not in that way. And until she could decide one way or the other, she'd just be totally nonchalant about the entire thing. 

Mary Beth knew of course, in the way that Mary Beth usually knew everything, even when she wasn't directly informed. Kerri pretty much ignored her as best she could, only offering curt answers to the many questions asked about the two until her assistant finally got the hint. 

Honestly! Kerri sat behind her desk, slightly shaking her head, laughing quietly to herself. She loved the woman, really she did, almost like a mother; their friendship had grown that much over the years. But how nosy could one person be? 

She couldn't worry about that now, though. Not now. Not Mary Beth with her caring, albeit misguided, ways. Not Jamal and...whatever the hell it was that they had going on. Not her girlfriends who despised meddling but managed to insinuate themselves all up in her life. Her main focus was this campaign. It would be less than a week that the contract winner would be announced. All the little nuisances that greeted her from day to day would no doubt have to take a back seat. 

It was some kind of maddening calm that lulled her when she worked, when she was most focused. When rays of colors and undefined shapes and dimensions swirled together effortlessly, almost as an afterthought, to form within her mind recognizable, meaningful, thought provoking creations. 

Her secondary education was one saturated with all aspects of art. The study of hues, textures, brush strokes, mediums, the history, periods – the most renowned and forgotten artisans alike. It was only natural that her abilities lead her into the studies of the craft, but somehow business classes got mixed in along the way. Her life's direction just seemed to be propelled of its own violation from then on. Numbers, calculations, endless research and agonizing reports seized most of her attention and before long, she found herself where she was now.

The right side of her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she worried it a bit. Maybe she was on her way to becoming a lonely, old grouch or whatever the hell it was that Mary Beth had called her. She stifled an indignant snort at the notion, but managed to let her eyes roll with the flutter of long lashes and shake of her head. She loved her job. But this was something that had been said many times before, so she let the thought go without taking a side, pro or con. 

Releasing her coral colored lip, she let a slow sigh escape her and for the first time, looked at the patrons that surrounded her as she stood in one of the metro's cars. She was trying her best to ignore how agonizingly crowded it was, and how completely rude and pushy some people were just to get home. They were packed in on all sides, like sardines...or rats. She shivered visibly at the mental picture and steeled herself, her feet planted firmly on the ground, her left hand tightening around one of the metal handles that lined the ceiling for standing passengers and braced herself as the train proceeded to stop at its next station.

No, her thoughts continued, it wasn't a question of her job. It was a matter of her happiness and truth be told, her job made her happy in some simple way, satisfied the desire to be needed, purposeful. But that wasn't enough. That couldn't make anyone whole, she knew that. No one had to tell her that. 

It just wasn't...just wasn't...

Just wasn't the right time, maybe? So, her brow furrowed a little when she considered what was going on with her and Jamal, it worried her somewhat. Kerri certainly didn't want to lead anyone on, and she thought she had been quite clear about her intentions in the beginning. But he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she wished to remain on strictly friendly terms, at least for the immediate future. 

She wasn't looking for love. A part of her was resigned to believe that she had already lost her love. 

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

Her lips pursed together as she scolded herself for the pity party she was throwing – guest list of one. Whatever the cause of her foreboding, she was pretty sure it wasn't in her destiny to end up all alone, some wrinkled old woman sitting in a rocking chair on her front porch, a knitted shawl around her shoulders while her 13 lazy cats lay at her feet. She hated cats.

"The lady hasn't lost her way again today, has she?"

The words cut through her muddled thoughts forcibly, shattering her quiet reverie like a wild boar in a glass menagerie. Her eyes shut instinctively, the lids wrenched tightly together as she prayed to all that was good and holy that he was not, was NOT standing behind her in that moment. And if those few words were to have spilled from anyone else's mouth, she, no doubt, would have laughed cynically at the deeper meaning laced between the lines. 

Deep octave tones flowed over her, making her flush, warming her all the way down to her toes. Absentmindedly, she started to raise her right hand to wipe away the tickling prickles that materialized when his breath assaulted the delicate shell of her ear. But this, she soon remembered, was bogged down with the weight of her purse and shopping bag so she let the appendage drop. 

He seemingly came from nowhere, and she couldn't remember him ever stepping on the train. Was she that wrapped up in her own mind, her own world that she hadn't noticed? And just how close was he? She could feel him directly behind her, the broadness of his chest bumping against her shoulders as the car swayed to and fro along the tracks, his torso against her back. It was indecent! But of course there was some amount of touching on all sides from various strangers on the train. There was hardly any standing room as it was.

After only a few seconds, her nose began to dissect that tantalizing scent she knew to be uniquely his as it enveloped her, inhaling deeply before she caught herself. Her eyes flew open at the impropriety of her actions. She didn't know this man! He could be some crazed lunatic for all she knew.

Slowly, slowly Kerri turned her head to look at him over her right shoulder, her mouth slightly agape. He, in all his glory, gazed back at her with sparkling gray eyes and that ever presuming smirk.

She couldn't breathe! It was totally irrational. The sudden reaction within her body undeniable. The feeling of hundreds of tiny spiders running down her spine seemed to overwhelm her, almost numbingly, the sensation so acute. She thought she heard the pounding of a thousand hooves across a barren terrain, the rushing of a torrential waterfall drowning out all of her hearing, only to frown at the silliness shortly after realizing this was simply the sound of the roaring wind produced from the train travelling back underground.

"Nn..." The ability to actually speak escaped her, leaving her with the rudimentary skills of making small grunts and incomprehensible noises. At this he simply laughed, effectively serving to anger her somewhat. 




Baby Girl Ch. 02



A thin line formed across lightly tinted lips, eyes narrowed slightly, her head turned to face forward again. Of all the nerve! 

It seemed she had acquired the knack for making the men she met laugh at her expense. And although her line of profession sometimes called for her to be engaging, entertaining even, she really didn't consider herself to be all that funny.

"You do remember where you parked this time?" The words suggested that he was mocking her, although there was a throatiness to the quality of his voice, a resonating rumble she could feel that began in his chest, emphasizing how close they were, making her shiver in spite of herself. And if he hadn't been so successful in evoking her ire, she would have gotten the distinct impression that he was flirting.

It was unclear to her why she seemed so mortified, so afraid to answer his simple question. At the moment, she didn't trust her own voice. There was a high probability that it would be shaky, unstable, betraying all of her insecurities. For whatever illogical reason, she was embarrassed beyond belief. He might as well have accidentally seen her naked, all of her womanly charms exposed to his critical eye. 

Kerri glanced down to her right, helplessly, seeking someone to come to her aid. The only other person in the car that was paying any attention to her was a little girl who appeared to be about five sitting astride her mother's lap. Two long braids sat neatly on the side of her round, cherub face, fastened at the end with pink ribbons. Her brown eyes were big and bright, the tiny nose slightly upturned. No doubt, Kerri would have thought of her as absolutely adorable if it wasn't for the fact that as soon as she realized Kerri was indeed watching her, she smiled impishly and stuck out her tongue.

Bad ass kids, she mused, jerking forward, praying as hard as she could that the next stop would indeed be hers. Her bearings were completely shot.

"Yes," she managed to get out, refocusing on the situation at hand. "Yes," she repeated, risking a peak at him over her shoulder once more, "I...I remember where I parked."

There was a brief pause while he continued to look down at her, while it appeared that he was allowing her words to sink in. It was as if he were studying them, turning them over in his mind and taking them apart, trying to find the significance behind what she spoke. Or, it could've been the fact that he liked knowing he unnerved her, that he knew his gaze was penetrating to her very core, leaving her completely rattled. 

It would've been so easy, so natural for him to drop whatever items that were trapped in his right hand and use that hand to capture her waist instead, to pull her body flush with the rock hardness of his chest. So easy...

Stop! She had to make herself stop. If she tried hard enough though, she could recall the way it felt, his arms, his abdomen, the way he held her...

"Hmm," he replied, the corner of his mouth rising to form a crooked smile. "That's too bad."

She was supposed to start her next sentence off with, 'I,' as in, 'I can't believe you would have the audacity to imply...well, whatever the hell it is that you're...implying,' but Kerri squeaked, actually squeaked in response, her eyes growing wide at his insinuation before turning back around. She was beginning to make herself dizzy.

All the blood in her body pooled in her face and neck making her blush and uncomfortably warm. 

The train began to slow, the car jerking erratically as the breaks were applied to the metal wheels causing her to bump against him. The seconds between the train coming to a complete stop and the opening of the doors stretched out for an eternity in her mind. Moving with haste, she tried to push her way through the other passengers, attempting to get away from him as quickly as possible before she made in absolute fool of herself, even more so then she already had.

It donned on her that this too was his stop and he probably lived somewhere nearby. The sudden realization flashed across her mind in bold red letters. The probability of his close vicinity made her more than a little weary, the self inflicted fear nipping at her heels. Her fast pace didn't waver – out the doors, down the escalator and past the gates –only risking a look back when she made it out to the parking lot. He was no where to be seen, but she continued towards her car as swiftly as her pumps would allow.

Why she was running from him couldn't be rationalized. She had no idea, none at all. It made no logical sense, not even in her overactive imagination. 

However, she didn't seem to relax until she got to her car, her heart beating a mile a minute within her chest once seated in the driver seat. While catching her breath, she let her head rest on one of her hands that tightly gripped the stirring wheel, panting as if she had just ran a marathon. It annoyed her that any person, any man would have this much affect on her, and all he did was ask a question.

As soon as her body calmed, Kerri sat back and flipped down the visor to view the vanity mirror that hid underneath to look at her reflection. A thin sheen of perspiration had settled on face, making her caramel skin glow. Reaching over the passenger side, she opened glove compartment and grabbed a napkin to dab at the wetness on her forehead and nose. 

After discarding the tissue, she caught a glimpse of hazel eyes staring back at her. 

"You are so uncool," she grumbled before closing the visor and starting the ignition to make her way back home.

* * *



Baby Girl Ch. 03



"Mommy's sorry," Momma said, and kissed me again. 

She rested her head on my shoulder. 

"What would you like to do now baby?" Momma asked. 

Her sudden change in behavior startled me a bit. 

"Can I take my corset off Mommy so I can take my bath?" I asked. 

"Sure sweetheart," Momma smiled, and helped me out of my corset. 

I greedily gulped up the air and skipped off to the bathroom, then winced when I saw the red welts on my torso and cupping my breasts. For a few moments I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, then turned on the water and sat down in the tub as the water rose around me. Momma joined me. The hot water stung and burned my red welts but at the same time it felt soothing. Momma leaned me against the side of the tub and cupped my breasts, sucking, circling and flicking my nipples with her tongue. She squeezed my breasts and kissed my cheek and neck. 

"You like that baby," Momma whispered. 

"Yes Mommy," I moaned. 

She kissed me and I kissed her back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I rubbed my breasts against hers and she slipped her hands down and squeezed my ass. Then Momma raised herself onto the rim of tub and spread her legs. I started slow, licking her inner thighs and slowly making my way to her swollen lips. She laced her fingers in my hair and pulled me in closer and I sucked gently on her clit. 

"Yes... Oh..." She moaned softly, stroking my shoulders with one hand and twisting my hair with the other. 

I flicked her clit with my tongue and allowed the tip to wander inside and lick at her vaginal walls. She came quickly, I didn't have enough time to gather up all her cum before she turned me on all fours. My breasts hung over the side as I gripped the cool rim of the tub. 

I peeked over my shoulder and out of a small netted bag Momma pulled out a blue vibrator with a little blue dolphin towards the handle. She presented it to my mouth and said firmly, "Suck," and I allowed her to push the tip past my lips. Momma explored my pussy with her free hand, squeezing and spreading my swollen lips, as I sucked and licked the dildo. She pulled it away from me and pushed it in me, just the head, and turned it on, then pushed the rest in. She moved the vibrator in and out of me in short tiny thrusts, the little dolphin buzzing gently on my clit in combination with the head hitting my g-spot, and teased my ass with her tongue. I wanted to protest but it felt too good to say no to. 

The bathroom door had been left wide open, the mirror only showed darkness but I had a tingling feeling someone was watching us. Me partly hanging over and gripping the tub while Momma pleasured me from behind. 

"A little deeper..." Momma said sweetly, and thrust the vibe a little deeper, turning it up. 

"Momma!" I cried out. 

She spit on my asshole and pushed the tip of her tongue inside, licking and massaging the sensitive skin within. She thrust a little harder and quicker into me. My legs trembled and I arched my back, tilting my head back. My moans grew louder. 

"Keep those legs spread," Momma said, and pushed her tongue a little deeper into my ass. 

"I can't, Momma! I'm going to cum!" I cried out. 

"Yeah sweetheart?" Momma said. 

I threw my head back and cried out as I came. I knelt there, gripping the tub so tightly to keep myself up my knuckles turned white. I heard Momma moaning behind me as she sucked the vibrator clean. 

She helped me out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me and sat down naked with me on the bed. She reached over to the nightstand and took out a hairbrush and began to brush my hair. 

"Mommy's sorry if she get's a little rough with you, she's just jealous," Momma said softly. 

"Why Momma?" I asked. 

"Because I feel Daddy likes you more than me," Momma said. 

"No he doesn't," I said. 

"He plays with you often, he hardly looks at me. I feel so old and ugly," Momma sighed. 

"No you're not Momma, I think you're pretty," I said. 

"Of course you do, but your father never says it to me. And you're so young still," Momma said. 

"But you always call me 'fat' Momma, it's not my fault," I said. 

"I'm sorry," Momma whispered, and kissed my cheek, then added, "I'm just jealous."



Baby Girl Ch. 04



When I woke up the house was empty, or it seemed empty. When I went downstairs my older brother Bobby was on the couch watching TV and drinking coffee. He took one look at me and said, "You're a mess." I didn't say anything, of course if you have sex the night before you're going to wake up a little messy. 

"Go upstairs and brush your hair," Bobby said. 

"I'm not a little kid anymore, you can't order me around," I said. 

"Can't I?" Bobby said, raising an eyebrow. 

I didn't argue any further, he was taller than me by a head and a half and almost nothing but pure muscle, so I went back upstairs and sat on my bed to brush my hair. I'd gotten the left side done when Bobby appeared in the doorway, shirtless, with a large bulge in his pants. 

"No Bobby, I had a bad night last night," I said. 

"So? You don't want me to tell Dad you were a bad girl do you?" Bobby said. 

I hated his grin. 

"I didn't think so," Bobby said. 

He sat down on my bed and put his hand on my thigh and kissed my cheek. He slipped his hands under my shirt and fondled my breasts, pinching and squeezing my nipples. 

"Don't!" I said, pushing his hands away. 

He pushed me on my hands and knees and unbuckled his belt. 

"Please Bobby, don't," I pleaded. 

He pushed up my shirt and draped it over my head, he took hold of my wrists and slid his cock in my pussy. He thrust hard into me, his balls slapping my clit and splitting my lips. He held both my wrists in one hand and withdrew from me briefly to slap my ass with his cock, two smacks to each cheek, then pushed his cock back in my pussy. 

"No one's going to want you if you cry every time a man sticks his cock in you," he said, and withdrew from me again. 

I expected another slap but instead he entered my ass. 

"Ow Bobby that hurts!" I cried to him. 

He just pushed harder into me, pulling his cock out every few thrusts to smack me with his cock. He let go of my wrists and pulled me up by my hair and held me against him. He had one arm round my neck while his free hand fondled my breasts and his hips slapped hard against my ass. 

"Is this how you like it? From behind, like Mom?" Bobby asked. 

"Yes Bobby," I moaned. 

"You want it harder?" he asked, pounding harder into me. 

"No Bobby!" I cried. 

He came with a loud groan, withdrawing from me and spraying his load on my back. He then told me to lay down on my back and knelt over me, stroking his hard cock and smacking my face with the tip. He reached forward and fondled my breasts, he pinched and twisted my nipples and smacked me again with his cock. His hand pumped harder up and down his shaft. He came with a loud grunt and sprayed his cum all over my breasts and belly, then spread my legs and buried his face in my pussy. 

He kissed up and down my thighs and squeezed my ass cheeks, spreading and kneeding them. He licked from my clit to my ass and slipped a finger in my ass, fingering me and sucking my clit. He fingered me a little gentler than he did when his cock was splitting my ass and pussy. 

I moaned softly and opened my legs a little wider for him and stroked his cock and balls. 

"What is going on in here?!" a voice shouted. 

I snapped back to reality and looked up, it was Momma. 

Bobby and I both froze, expecting Momma to berate us or call Daddy, but Momma just smiled. 

"You know you're not supposed to be here Bobby... I should call your father," Momma said sweetly. 

She unbuttoned her shirt and unzipped her pants, and we watched as her clothes fell to the floor leaving her in just her bra and panties. 

"What are you going to do to keep me quiet?" she asked. 

She crawled onto the bed with Bobby and me. She smiled at Bobby, then smiled at me and kissed me. 

I unsnapped her bra and cupped her breasts. I kissed her neck and massaged her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples, and she moaned into my shoulder. Behind her Bobby put his hands on Momma's hips and rubbed his cock back and forth over her pussy. He slid Momma's panties down to her knees and spread her ass cheeks, then pulled off her panties. He licked up from her pussy to her ass, circling and penetrating her hole with his tongue. I lay on my back beneath Momma and spread her pussy lips with my fingers. I licked up and down her thighs and around her pussy lips, never touching her clit directly just yet. 

"Oh yes, yes..." Momma moaned. 

She stroked her hand back and forth over my pussy and I fingered her with one hand and stroked her clit with the other while Bobby continued to wetten Momma's hole with his tongue and open her with his fingers. 

Bobby grasped Momma's hips and I held his cock, slowly guiding it into Momma's pussy... Watching Bobby's cock split her lips and stretch her hole. He thrust gently into her at first, I stroked Momma's clit. She moaned a little louder and I stroked her clit a little faster as Bobby pounded her a little harder. Momma reached back towards my face with one hand but I caught her wrist and held her hand down. She looked at me between her swaying breasts, her cheeks a little rosy and her face a little sweaty. I smiled at her and kept rubbing her clit. Bobby thrust harder into her, his balls slapping her clit in unison with my hand stroking her. Momma's moans got louder, her breathing got more shallow and I could see her cum leaking down her thighs. 

"Yeah, harder!" Momma cried. 

Her voice got high pitched and she shut her eyes tightly. She came, crying, with Bobby. They're cum mixing together, Bobby pulled out from Momma and their cum spilled on my face. Momma lay on her side and stroked my legs and said softly, "Good girl, good boy... You've made Momma very happy."