Nigga Heaven Ch. 06

ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS.

*

Sam opened the door and saw Barbara standing there. "Hi!" She smiled.

"Come in," Sam stepped out of her way and closed the door behind her.

"My husband doesn't know I'm here," she said.

"I don't give a shit if he does," Sam replied.

"He doesn't want me near you," looking at him as she said it.

"He got what he wanted," Sam said. "It ain't what he likes but it's damned sure what he asked for." Barbara ignored the quarrel and changed the subject.

"Your home reminds me of the house Mr. Miyagi had in the karate movie," she observed.

"I like it, " Sam replied.

"Aren't you curious why I came?" She asked, fishing for a hint of concern or alarm or curiosity, to tug the talk from cosmetic crap to their relationship. She didn't come to make small-talk.

"No, I figure you come because you want to be here, because you want something; let's go outside." he said.

Outside Sam spent his free time improving the backyard. A stockade fence was up, the carp pond was built, and pallets of bricks awaited his toil to make them walks and planters.

"I have a problem, Sam, the problem's mostly you," she said.

"I see your belly swelling a little," he said.

"That's not the problem, the problem is I want you and I want my husband," she said. "The intimacy with you fills places Tim can't get to and never will, but he owns my heart like a child owns it's mother's heart.

"You mean, pack the man's lunch and come fuck me while he's at summer day camp," Sam said.

"I wouldn't put it like that, but yeah, that's the idea," she said. "You don't need mothering and nurturing, and Tim doesn't want a hot piece of ass. He's kinda cerebral. A woman needs both kinds of men; in the same body, if she's lucky. I love your cock, and I love Tim's stamp collecting."

"I don't collect stamps or butterflies," he said.

"So what about it, can I fuck you while Tim's at camp?" She asked as she straddled Sam and put her mouth on his. "You're not gonna cheat a girl of a little happiness, are you?" She whispered and licked his lips.

"You don't beat around the bush, do yuh? He thought out loud.

"Take me inside," she suggested.

Barbara pulled back one corner of the old quilt and sheets on Sam's pineapple bed, and fluffed the feather pillows. The mattress was too high above the floor to sit on, so she balanced herself with a hand pressed against a carved bedpost and removed her shoes. Sam waited for her in bed, studying her belly as the dress came over her head, and the bra fell down her arms. He noted how pregnant belly are firm not flabby.

"Why did they make these beds so far off the floor?" She asked, crawling across the mattress to straddle Sam and sit on her knees.

"White folks were taller back then," he said. "Maybe the white women kept a nigga under the bed for when massa was away." Barbara ignored the provocation.

Barbara leaned in to Sam, to kiss him. He smelled sweaty and tasted salty. "I missed your cock a lot, baby, "she whispered. Sam squeezed her nipples and met her tongue with his. "Wanna put your good-time in me, sweet man?" She asked.

"That's me, Mister Good Time," Sam replied, and squeezed the nipples harder, till she groaned. That done Sam put his hand between her legs to rub her pussy through the pantie.

"I want you in my ass, too," she said.

"Get on your back," he said. She lay down and spread her legs to make room for him when he got in position. Sam knelt and pushed his cock head against her, slowly rubbing her gash to open it and arouse her more. She touched the head with her fingertips.

"I need your cock now," she whimpered, and took the cock head in her palm, and guided it in, "Much better," she exhaled and spread her legs more. Her neck and face and chest were flushed. "You're what I been wanting, brown sugar. When you're lubing me so good my mind goes away to Heaven or someplace. I usta think you were the Devil but now I'm not sure. Where you send me doesn't seem much like Hell."

"You talk too much, you need something for that mouth." He complained, and eased his cock head in her to the hilt.

"Mmmm, got anything handy to fill it with?" She moaned. "You know what I was just thinking?"

"No fucking idea, what?" Sam said.

"I was just thinking that you'll come in handy keeping me greased for the baby," she said. "Oooo, don't stop now, we'll talk later," she said.

Sam pumped Barbara like an old hand pump, his semen flowing out of her in similar fashion when the time came; she wasn't big enough for him and his load, and the load overflowed down the crack of her ass onto the sheet. She felt it and reached beneath her ass to feel it and lick her fingers and smear it on her titties.

When Sam pulled out she whispered, "You promised to fuck my ass," and rolled over, supporting herself on her knees a little, to elevate the hole for him.

She kept two fingers inside her pussy as Sam stretched the other hole. "You've ruined me for other men," she said as she touched and caressed her looseness. "I feel so swollen." Then her mind went far away, to someplace she liked, and she stopped talking.

When she returned from Heaven she was lying on her back, feeling a cool breeze on her skin, heard the clock ticking, and smelled the aroma of their lust; she opened her eyes and looked toward the window, seeing the Sun lower in the sky and the breeze fluttering the curtain. "I wonder how late it is?" She thought. Sam was gone.

Alone with her thoughts and senses, Barbara absorbed Sam's bedroom. "He dries his sheets outside, the quilt is old, so's the bed and clock, he's better organized and cleaner than most men." She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She arose after a while, cleansed herself of semen, dressed, painted herself, and went outside. Sam was laying bricks in the backyard. The Sun was near the horizon. She sat in a chair in the shadow of a tree and watched him work. He looked at her but said nothing, and kept working. "I need to go," she said. Sam kept working. "I wonder what would happen if I didn't go?"

Sam kept working, then said, "It's a free country."