Diablerie by Walter Mosley Read Free Book Online Page B

asked.
    "It wouldn't do that," he said, watching the stream from the green hose, making sure that he didn't wash the soil away from the roots.
    "But what if it did?"
    "Probably be a forest fire up there, I guess."
    "And what if it was a fire, Daddy?"
    "It would burn the trees and the flowers, if there are any flowers up there."
    "And if it was flowers, they would burn?"
    "I guess."
    "What if all the flowers burnded up, Daddy?"
    "The bees would have trouble makin' honey, honey."
    I giggled and asked, "And what if the bees couldn't make their honey?"
    The whole afternoon was spent asking one question after another. Remembering that I knew there was a time when I questioned everything.

    There came a sound: the front door of the apartment opening. I scooped Mona's things into her bag, put it where I found it, and tiptoed into the closet, closing the louvered door behind me.
    I was sure that it was Mrs. Valeria coming home from the market. She would putter around for a while and then go out again. That's how Maria spent her days—in and out of the house, going on made-up errands. All I had to do was wait until the front door opened and closed again; it wouldn't be more than an hour—probably less.
    They came through the bedroom door kissing. Their heads locked together as they twisted into the room. His erection was out and in her hand. His hand was under her skirt, the forearm jerking upward and turning again and again.
    "Oh, yeah," Mona said, the orgasm teasing behind her panting breaths. "Right up in there. Deeper. Oh. Hold it right there. Don't move. Don't move."
    She was on her toes, biting her lower lip, her eyes closed. A high-toned squeal escaped her throat.
    "Kiss that cock," Harvard Rollins said.
    She looked at him then. I knew what she'd say. Mona hated it when men talked like that. "Gutter mouth," she called it.
    "You want me to take that big dick down my throat?" she asked him.
    He took her by the shoulders and threw her to the floor. She fell like a rag doll, her dress dropping away from her shoulders. She came right up on her knees and went at his long, slender erection hungrily. Her face was hidden from me but I could tell that she was looking up at him. He stared down at her lovingly. Every now and then he'd make a hissing sound, letting us both know how wonderful she made him feel.
    She held his manhood away from her lips and said, "I can taste your come. Hold it back."
    As Mona stood up, her striped dress fell away fi-om her slender hips. She wore no underwear. Then she turned her back to him and leaned over to reach into her little leather bag.
    I froze, worried that she might see the jumble of her things and realize I had gone through it. But she didn't.
    "I have a condom in—" she began to say, but Harvard moved quickly, sinking the entire length of his stiff erection inside her.
    "Oh my God," she cried. "Oh my God."
    Harvard was fucking her hard while holding on to one of her wrists. Every time he slammed into her, she almost lost her balance, almost came, while he somehow kept her from falling, kept her panting.
    "I'm coming!" he shouted.
    Mona turned around quickly and got back on her knees. She grabbed his thing and stroked it and he began to ejaculate. As the long streams leaped from the snakelike head of his pink erection, Mona laughed and urged him on. Even after it was over, she kept pulling on it.
    "Come again," she begged. "Come for me. Show me you love me. Do it again."
    For a moment I was sure that he was going to push her away, but then he bent over, lifted her by her waist, and put her on the table I had made. He entered her again and repeated his exuberant pounding. The slapping of flesh was like one man's hearty applause in a room full of doubters.
    The poorly made table rocked and squealed along with Mona. She was cheering, shouting, screaming, "Fuck me goddammit! Fuck me!"
    I wondered many things in my dark closet. The only light brought images of my beautiful middle-aged wife, wanton