tagInterracial LoveI Call Him Mr. Tibbs Ch. 03

I Call Him Mr. Tibbs Ch. 03


"I don't know how you do it, Fran," Hailey said while she accepted her cup of coffee from her friend. "I'd go crazy if I were you."

"Go crazy doing what?"

Fran stirred her own cup of coffee as she led the way from the kitchen towards the living room. They sat across from each other. Fran, wearing a flowery dress, curled her feet under her legs with her cup balanced in both hands while her best friend, wearing jeans shorts and a spaghetti blouse sat forward drinking her coffee. Such was a ritual both women shared with each other: every now and then each visited the other for a cup of tea or coffee and catch up on lost times or neighbourhood chatter going about. In this case, Fran had a mental footnote of stuff she wanted to put through her friend and was happy when some minutes ago Hailey had called to say she was coming over. It was a Tuesday morning just like any other.

"You sitting at home all day," continued Hailey. "Doing nothing except waking up, falling asleep, grabbing something to eat, watch some TV, then repeat the same thing all over again till whenever Cleo gets back from work. I don't think I can stand it."

"What makes you think I enjoy it?"

"I don't know. Seeing you in here all day just makes me think so."

"Please, don't let this whole facade blind you. The truth is I'm dying here, Hailey. Sometimes it gets so hard to even think about it."

"So, why not do something about it?"

"Do you think I haven't? I'm still searching through the papers for a job. I've written to a few and I'm waiting to get some feedback."

"What does Cleo think?"

Fran waved a hand above her head dismissively. "Cleo is still Cleo. Very little has changed about him."

"He ought to come take some titbits from my Kevin," Hailey chortled.

"Ha! That's another thing I'd like to get into with you," said Fran, glad that her friend has brought up an opening for her questions. Little did she realise that Hailey was eventually going to bring the topic up regardless if she hadn't. "When are you going to tell me about that black guy I met at your kitchen the other day? I know he wasn't there to fix your air conditioner."

"As a matter of fact, that's what he did," Hailey indicated at her body, laughing while she did. "He's there to fix my pussy's air conditioner."

Her friend looked at her with amazement. "You're serious?"

"Fran, I'm telling you the truth as a friend: I haven't had this much sex in a long fucking time. I haven't been so well fucked than I've been getting since I met him. Every night is like an adventure."

"Is he around right now?"

"No, went off to work. He works as a phone technician at a Phones-R-Us shop over on Garden Street, behind the U. He should be back by noon or thereabouts. Even now I'm missing him."

"I don't believe you. Does Kevin know about him?"

"Of course Kevin knows. Whenever he's fucking me—and I do mean serious fucking—Kevin's always there to watch and later clean me up." She gushed with mirth that surprised her friend.

"My God, Hailey. You've sure hit the big time with this one. I'm in shock right now from hearing you say this."

"Like I said, it beats sitting at home all day doing what you're doing."

Fran no longer had interest in her coffee and lowered her cup on a coffee table beside her. "Where and when in God's name did you hook up with him? But first, tell me his name?"


"It's Tibbs," I said to Fred. "You've seen that classic Sidney Portier's 'In the Heat of the Night'? That's the same name he goes by."

Fred had never seen the movie, neither did he have an inkling who the fuck Sidney Portier was, but he thought wise not to bring it up. "Is that really his name or some sort of nickname?"

"It's a short form of his name. His real name, he told me, is Tibbins Black. But he doesn't like it. Said back when he played ball in college, a lot of people made fun of him, so he prefers Tibbs."

"And how long for you known him?"

"Going on a couple of months now," I said before taking a sip of my beer.

Fred was about throwing another question at me when a waitress appeared to take our finished meals away. I wasn't bothered by his questions in as much as I was curious about him throwing them at me.

We were in a restaurant not far from my place of work, a place I frequented. He had called me earlier in the day asking if we could meet for lunch, that there was something he wanted to speak with me about. From the way he'd mentioned the 'something', I instinctively had an idea what he was referring to. My only misgiving was why it's sort of taken him this while to come forth to ask me these. It wasn't like I was ever going to pretend not knowing what he wanted to meet me about. He'd seemed awkward at first when bringing up the subject, but I'd made it easy for him and cut through the chase, asking if he wanted to know about the black man that was partly living with me and my wife. Fred had jumped like a rabbit when I said this and right away the shifty feeling had left him and the questions started coming.

"How long has he been living with us?"

"It's not like he's living permanently with us, Fred—he's not homeless or destitute, if that's what you're thinking. He's got his own pad across town. Hailey and I just got tired driving all the way, so we proposed he come stay with us every now and then. Makes things much easier for all of us."

"You let him," Fred paused to look around before continuing: "you let him screw Hailey while you watch?"

"You'd get aroused much quicker if you were me," I sniggered.

"How big is he?"

"A lot big," I answered daringly. "Bigger than you and I."

Fred snorted almost immediately. "That's bullshit."

"As bullshit as watching you outside my window last night?" I said, catching him off-guard. I couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face. "Yeah, I thought that was you hiding behind my rosebush last night. You saw Hailey getting hammered in the living room, right?"

Fred flushed red, embarrassed. He took a sip of his beer to dispel the look from his face. "I was curious, that's all. It's not often you get to see a black face hanging around our neighbourhood. I didn't even know you were there?"

"That's 'cos I was kneeling beside the corner, but I did see you. Sometimes they go down to the park at night and get it on. Though I don't follow them."

"Wow. You and Hailey really have been having quite the fun. All this time I figured you both for Jehovah Witnesses."

"Flattery and sarcasm will get you nowhere, Fred. Admit that you're curious and stop dicking me around like you wouldn't want to know more up close and personal. Hell, you can bring Misty over later this evening and I'll introduce you both. I'm sure she too would be curious just as you."

That wiped the smile off my neighbour's face. "Don't you dare bring my wife into your madness." He took a swig of his beer then got up. "Pretend we never had this conversation."

He turned around and I remained in my seat and watched him leave.


"Oh, I love what you've done to this room, Fran," Hailey remarked after her friend had led her upstairs to reveal the remodelling effort she had done to their guest room which she was hoping to become their baby's dwelling place. Fran was far from being pregnant but was seriously considering motherhood as a sedative to the laxness of being a stay-at-home wife.

The room had previously bore the same cream paintwork as the rest of the house, but she had covered it up with light pink wall-paper. She couldn't decide if her future baby was going to be a boy or a girl, but preferred pink to other colours. There was a baby's crib in place of a bed and all around were various teddy bears, toys and stuff only a baby would love. Both of them approached the window facing the back of the house gazing out at the row of houses behind. The air that blew through it was warming compared to the sun's heat.

"You really out-did yourself in here, Fran."

"Thanks. But so far it's been a personal thing," her face turned sombre. "Cleo's got his mind all hooked up on work, work, and more work."

"Can I ask you a personal question, Fran?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Hailey pursed her lips before she asked: "When was the last time you and Cleo hit the sack?"

"Being a while," she muttered. Actually it was a long while. Cleo was often too preoccupied with work to think about looking at her anymore. "Do you think he's seeing someone?"

That was the ultimate question; it was one Francine was afraid to confront, even though she knew she ought to. Instead she shook her head. "I really don't know. I've thought about it a couple of times, but I get scared asking him about it."

She wasn't just scared about asking but scared of discovering that she might be right after all, that her husband really was seeing someone else and that amounted to him being away from home much too long. She felt despondent about it. She lowered her face, stifling the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes.

Hailey felt the predicament her friend was caught in and deep in her heart sympathised with her.

"I can do some looking into it if you want me to," she whispered to her friend.

Fran looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you're afraid of wanting to know whatever Cleo might or might not be up to, I can help you out."

"No ... no, Hailey, you mustn't—" she sniffled, wiped tears off her eyes.

"Like hell I mustn't. Look at yourself, Fran: you're in pain right now. The least you can do is get this brick off your chest and find out for real what's going on in your own home."

Fran shook her head repeatedly. "No ... no ... you shouldn't. I'll ask him about it."

Hailey knew she wouldn't but decided not to argue with her. "Just tell me you'll think about it, okay? Can you at least do that for me?"

Fran felt reassured by this. "I will. I'll think about it, Hailey. Thanks for your help."


Tibbs roared with laughter after Hailey had finished narrating to him the talk she'd had with her next-door neighbour, Fran, earlier in the day. They were in Tibbs' apartment living room. He had pushed the centre table aside and spread a cloth over the carpet on which they lay on naked. It had started raining an hour ago and with the looks of it didn't seem to be anywhere close to stopping. The sky outside was dark and shrouded with grey clouds making it look like it was approaching dusk even though it was a little past four.

"Don't tell me," Tibbs muttered as his laughter died off, "don't tell me she actually said that."

"Well, she didn't actually say it, but I could easily tell. You ought to have been there to see the look on her face. She hadn't been laid in a long time."

"A woman with that hot body that's she's got? The fuck's her old man so caught up with work not to be tapping that ass all night?"

"Not all white boys see things the way you would, Tibbs," she caressed his neck line. "Not all of them have your keen insight of what a good cock can do to a woman."

"A horny white woman," he reminded her.

"Yes, my love. A very horny, raunchy white woman."

"Her man's got to be a dumb ass letting that fine ass walk around all day without getting her groove on. I sure would love to get between those legs."

"And you will, my darling. In time once we've got the goods on her, I feel she'll come around. She said she was pretty scared of you when she stopped by my kitchen the other day."

"Did she now? Too bad. I promise to be gentle next time she stops by. What's her old man into anyway?"

"Her husband Cleo's an executive with Manhattan Chase. Kevin and I seldom see him around either. The man's always travelling out of town."

"Probably moonlighting elsewhere. So what do you think? That he's two-timing his woman and she's too afraid to find out?"

"I really don't know, but she's dying inside because of it. There's a lot of hurt going on inside her. You think there's any chance you can find something about him?"

He looked at her and sniggered. "What you saying? You want me shadowing her man, see if he's got something on the side or not? That ain't my type of job, babe."

"Didn't mean to say that it was, babe. Maybe you know of someone who could help us out. It'll really go a long way to get your big black cock between those legs of hers." she nibbled on his earlobe while her hand slid down his abdomen, past the top of his shorts to cup her fingers round the skin of the black snake between his legs that was becoming awake. Tibbs turned towards her, his fingers traced a line down her chin as she inched forward to touch him with her lips. Their tongues lolled and flickered against each others, ending in a smooch. Hailey extracted his cock out of his boxers; her fingers got a taste of pre-cum oozing out the tiny hole of his cock's bulbous head. She ogled the sight of it: its mushroom-shaped head with the shaft popping with blood veins on its skin, looking like the world's deadliest weapon. Capable of destroying, pulverizing, inseminating, breeding and subjugating any willing wet pussy it came in contact with. How she never ceased to want it so bad. Sometimes she found it perplexing this desire she had over his cock. The sight and smell of him near her always brought out the animal longing in her cunt.

She slid her thigh over his, letting his hand grasp the soft round flesh of her buttocks as she pressed herself against him; her nose inhaled the musky scent of his cologne as their lips brushed each other's chin. She was in her panties and bra but that was no problem for either of them. He pulled her along to be on top of him. Hailey grind her ass cheeks against his cock, feeling it rub against the under of her panties, getting a taste of her wetness. She reached underneath to grab his manhood.

"This is how I'd love you to take her," she purred as she rubbed his cock's head against the front of her panties. "I want you to have her sit over you like this, take your cock and rubbed it against her pussy just as I'm doing right now."

"Uh-Huh," Tibbs murmured. His hands pushed aside her bra straps from her shoulder, letting her pair of tits drop downward. His fingers pinched her nipples, flooding her with ecstatic currents.

"Ohhhh," she moaned. Her other hand pushed aside her panties and slowly, still rocking her ass on his thighs, introduced his cock between the openings of her labia. A sensuous sigh drooled from her lips, her eyes half shut in expectant delight.

"Then I want you to let her take your cock, push her panties aside ... and slid it into her cunt. Let it go all the way deep inside her."

Hailey's sigh turned into an exciting moan as the head of Tibbs' cock disappeared between her hairless labia region into the sweet chamber that was her pussy. Tibbs held his breath as his cock penetrated her. In most cases he would be taking charge of the situation by now, but he allowed her to have her fun. He was meant to please her after all as she too was meant to do the same to him.

His prick was now halfway inside her and still her moans rose in length. She leaned forward over him, her hair falling over her face, her ass raised halfway up. Tibbs caressed her butt, rolling his finger on her anal hole. She looked down at him with a smile fit enough to light ten candles on fire.

"And like that ... my darling, I want you to fuck that tight housewife pussy of hers like you've never fucked one before. Can you do that for me, darling?"

"That I can," Tibbs answered, now taking charge. "And I will!" Seconds later he was slamming his cock in and out of her pussy and Hailey, screaming out his name, rested her head over his shoulder as he gave her the brunt of his ploughing cock. Her cries mingled with the torrent of rain still falling outside, eventually becoming one with it.


A scenario of Cause and Effect occurred in the Danbrige's home following the night Fred has spoke rudely to his wife while he spied at his neighbours through the telescope: Misty no longer felt the need of giving him sex. Fred had apparently felt let down by this but seeing there was little in the matter he could do had resolved towards frequent masturbatory actions in the bathroom. His fantasies were typically of the sexual activities he'd observed over his neighbour's window the night he'd peeped up-close and personal the sight of the black man fucking his neighbour Kevin's wife in their living room. Had anyone resolved to inform Fred of how hooked he was regarding that night, he would have growled with annoyance and offered a firm denial. But hooked he was. Just how much was subject to questioning.

Misty was aware of her husband's frequent masturbating episodes in the bathroom. Even in bed when she lay turned away from him she could feel the way the bed shook from his side and knew his hands were busy with himself. The way he struggled to stem down the sound of his grunts too was a necessary give-away, although she sought not to bring the subject up. She didn't want any reprisals from his mouth and didn't think she could stomach it if he decided to bring the matter up. It never failed to intrigue her however, sitting up on the bed, fighting not to laugh at the sounds of dear Fred fighting with himself in the bathroom.

The morning after the day he'd had his chit-chat with Kevin regarding Tibbs, she'd woken up before him, as usually she did, and found evidence of his masturbatory effort of the night before left unflushed in the toilet bowl. Later in the afternoon when she returned home to clean up the bedroom she'd looked inside the bed cabinet on his side of the bed and found a trio of unnamed DVD cassettes. It was a good thing the kids were still in school after she'd finished her cleaning and gone downstairs to the living room to find out what was in the DVDs. Surprise her lit her face when she played each one of them and found that they were all homemade sex films involving interracial couples. One of them bore the infamous title: CUCKOLD HUBBIES #12. It featured five white husbands each narrating to the camera of how they'd discovered their wives' secret love for black men. What followed their narration was each of the husbands sitting naked by the foot of the bed watching their wives being fucked by sometimes one or several black men, all of them well athletic and sporting endowed penises.

Misty glanced at her watch, knowing the bus bringing her kids back from school won't be passing their street for the next two hours. She perched herself on the centre table with remote in hand and watched the movie. By the time she got halfway towards the third husband's video watching his wife getting double-penetrated by two thick brothers she had pushed up her skirt and was unconsciously rubbing a hand between her panties. Her eyes watched with captivating interest at the sex scenes playing on her TV set. She kept the volume at a steady level, loving the sound of the woman screaming out with lust when the black men kept on fucking her twin holes. Misty wasn't a veteran of watching porn movies though from the way the woman in the picture was hollering she reckoned there was no way that sounded staged. Besides, she was getting fucked in her pussy and anal hole. Misty naively thought that no woman could handle being fucked in the ass. Were that her in the video, with those guys fucking her pussy and ass, she'd probably be screaming for dear life.

After when she was done watching the movie she tried picturing herself in that scene, smiling with mischief as she pretended that the white man was her Fred sitting there naked, masturbating himself while licking his lips and watching her getting fucked and banged and used out the way those black men used the woman.

She watched the three DVDs once, then a second time before glancing at her watch, seeing how far the time had gone and how it won't be long before her kids' school bus stopped in front of their home. By this time she was invading her pussy with her fingers, amazed at the same time piqued by the fact how moved she was by the movies she'd watched. She ejected the disc from the machine and took them back upstairs to Fred's part of the bedroom, though she made a mental note to visit them again later. She went into the bathroom to wash herself. Half an hour later a yellow school bus pulled to the curb in front of her home and her kids jumped out of it and ran up the front porch into her waiting arms. *** Hours after she'd fed her children and cleaned them up, Misty returned to her room and lay on the bed and considered in thought just about everything that's occurred about her since finding out of Fred's dirty new hobby.

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