A Vital Appreciation Pt 03

"Hello, handsome," said the librarian.

Ray blinked at the buxom woman in glasses behind the reference desk. Her lips were parted and painted in a red shade that glowed brightly against her dark skin. Her inviting cleavage floated over counter like twin Hindenburgs pulling at their tethers.

Ray peered at the pretty woman for a few beats, before he said, "Uh, Hi. I am looking for any historical information about a house in the city."

Ray slid a piece of paper with an address over the counter, and the woman picked it up and read. "Sure, honey. Let's see what we can uncover," she replied. She gave Ray a conspiratorial grin and started typing at her computer monitor.

"Oooh, this is an oldie but a goodie," she said as she pushed the keyboard aside. "Give me a few minutes." She turned and walked into the rows of stacked books behind her. Ray watched her butt waggle under a tight skirt as she walked to the far end of the aisle and turned.

He made a mental note to visit the library more often.

When the librarian returned, she had an armload of ledgers and beckoned Ray to follow her. She dropped the books on a table and opened one to a page marked with a sticky note. "That neighborhood dates to the early 20th century," said the librarian. "You'll find general real estate information here, and more specifics in the other volumes."

"Thank you, very much," said Ray genuinely.

Seated at the table, Ray paused to watch the librarian walk slowly back to her counter. She paused dramatically to brush a bit of fluff off her skirt, turned back to Ray and smiled demurely when she caught him watching. Ray instantly dropped his gaze into the book open before him, and heard a little giggle from her direction.

Ray read half a page, and glanced back up at the reference counter. The librarian was watching him. He looked around; there was no one else in this area. He gave her a brief smile and returned to his reading. Well, he tried to read, but now found his concentration lacking.

Ray peeked up, and she was still looking at him with a wistful smile on her face. Ray returned her stare till her eyes turned down to the book in front of her. He returned to his book.

A few minutes later, he snuck a glance up and she was looking at him AGAIN! This time her eyes were hooded and her head was canted as if she was considering...something. She turned her head to the side and arched her back. For just a moment, Ray felt the urge join her behind the counter.

Ray cleared his throat and made a big show of taking his book to the copy machine. The librarian raised her eyebrows, nodded and smiled genially. As he bent over and dropped coins in the slot, he peeped sideways at the reference desk. The librarian's head was tilted to match his body. Her eyes were on his torso so she didn't notice that Ray saw her licking her lips.

Barely aware of the copy machine throwing bands of light across his book, Ray was instead feeling his face flush and cock thicken. He abruptly retrieved his copies, swiped up the books from the table and returned to the counter.

"Thank you so much," he said with a gracious smile. "You have been very helpful."

A wisp of disappointment crossed her face. The librarian straightened up and awkwardly offer her hand. "I'm glad I could help. My name is Janessa, by the way." she said as they shook hands.

Her skin felt warm and moist, and Ray answered, "And, my name is Ray, nice to meet you."

Janessa took off her glasses and looked at Ray with deep soulful eyes and said "I hope I can service you in the future."

Ray was whistling as he bounded down the library steps.

-----

"So, our house was built in 1912," said Ray.

"I think you were imagining that," said Brooke.

"What? No, it says right here, the house as built in 1912." replied Ray.

"No, no. What you said before-- about the librarian." said Brooke.

Ray paused and said, "Oh, yeah. No, she WAS hitting on me."

Brooke frowned and looked down at her drawing. It was a commission from Big Angel Tattoo for one of their clients and it needed to get done quickly. She looked over a Ray who seemed intent on his reading material. She felt a twinge in her gut to which she was not accustomed and came to a decision.

She hopped off her stool and grabbed Ray's hand to pull him up from the arm chair. She led him into the bathroom, closed the door behind them, and turned him to face the bathroom mirror.

Ray laughed, and asked. "Hey!...what are you doing?"

Brooke hugged him from behind, slid her hand up under his sweatshirt and said, "Shhhh."

Brooke unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans and underwear down to his knees. "Shhhh..." she said again as she reached around and began massaging Ray's cock with her left hand and his balls with her right.

Ray, stood straight and watched in the mirror while Brooke's hands worked methodically. His penis grew to thick cucumber size, its business end waving over the porcelain bowl. He felt her fingers massaging behind his balls while she expertly stroked the skin of his shaft forward and back.

A few minutes later, Ray splattered gobs only slightly darker than porcelain white across the sink and onto the mirror. As Ray's body continued to pump, Brooke pointed his cock to the ceiling to watch residual semen spurt out of the tip and over her fingers.

She flicked the last of it at the drain, turned the water on to wash it away and said, "Goodbye, Janessa."

-----

"Honey, I'm home!" called out Amar as he set his lunchbox on the counter. "Hello, Janessa?" The house remained quiet as he took off his work coat and hung it on a hook by the door. He rubbed his shaved head and pinched the bridge of this nose. It had been a long day. His wife was probably in bed already.

Amar tip-toed through the darkened house to the bedroom and smiled to himself as he heard the woman snoring softly through the cracked open door.

He sighed as he crept back to the kitchen and thought about Janessa. His Bosnian family had emigrated here to avoid persecution, and now THEY were persecuting him for marrying this American black woman. He did not care what they thought. Janessa was gorgeous and sexy in a way he never would have believed of the women in his home country.

He reached into the fridge for leftover meatloaf-- and she was a good cook too!

As Amar savored another bite at the kitchen table, he thought about his wife again-- her sexy legs, her shapely ass, her delicious boobs...

His Muslim sensibilities kicked in, and suddenly he was ashamed that his wife wore provocative clothing in public. Women should be chaste and covered in public-- not parading around attracting attention from other men. It pained him that the rest of the world was enjoying her so much more than he was.

Amar's mood darkened as he recalled how Janessa had flirted with him when they first met. His face turned red as it occurred to him that was her nature. Sex between them had been a little off recently. Maybe she was seeing somebody else now. Maybe she was fucking someone else while he was at work.

He pounded his fist on the Formica, hopped up and grabbed his wife's big black purse from the counter. He dumped the contents on the table and started rummaging. Among the receipts and cash, Amar found a scrap of paper with an address printed in block letters.

Written across the top in his wife's script was 'Ray.'

-----

Ray was up on a ladder chipping white paint off the lintel of their front door. A century of history fell off in thick brittle strips. He paused and wiped his brow with a sleeve and looked down the street. The sun was low in the west, so he shaded his eyes to watch a beat up pickup pass by. An angry looking bald driver glared at him.

"Whatever," thought Ray.

Brooke stuck her head out from a side window and said, "Ray, I have to deliver this drawing. I won't be gone long." After a few minutes, Ray heard the old Duster start and rumble from the back of the house.

Ray climbed down from the ladder and stepped back to survey his work. He and Brooke had bought this house from the city for song. It was barely habitable but he had time, and the neighborhood was in the middle of an artsy revitalization of sorts. A lot of newer home owners around here were young and spirited.

You know,... like Brooke.

"She is a good girl," said a voice behind him.

Ray twisted around to see old Mrs. McClatchy, one of his neighbors standing by the curb. She had a small basket of vegetables from the community garden in her hands.

"She has good bones," the old woman continued.

"Huh?" ask Ray

"All the houses on this block have good bones," the old woman explained.

Ray didn't want to hazard a guess about Mrs. McClatchy's age, but he knew she had grown up and grown old on this block.

"We had such a fucking good time here, back in the day," the woman continued.

"Yeah?" said Ray, hiding a smile at the old woman's salty language.

"Yeah,"she paused, blinked through thick glasses and said, "All the young bucks 'round here wanted to sink their teeth into MY tomatoes."

Ray stifled a laugh as the old woman appraised him from his dust covered boots on up.

She held up her basket abruptly and said, "Say! Do you want some tomatoes?"

-----

"I think it looks fucking awesome," said Brooke

"You really think so?" asked Julia, one of Brooke's stripper friends from Cooch's Show Club. She had a furrowed brow as she held her boobs apart to examine the tattoo stencil on her ribs.

"Well, I am biased, since it's my drawing," chuckled Brooke, "but I think the guys are gonna love it."

"Oh, the design is perfect!" said Julia. "Just want to be sure about the placement. What do you think, Jorge?"

The Latino tattoo artist swiveled in his chair. He held his tattoo machine in a gloved hand and perused Julia's front. "It's badass, babe," he said.

"Then let's do it," said Julia with a quick nod to Jorge.

Brooke put her head next to Julia's head as the needles bit into her skin. She held her friend's hand and made conversation to distract her. "How are things back at the club since I left?" asked Brooke.

"Oh, not too bad." said Julia. "Tony has backed off on the girls. He's working on some other scam. The word is he's buying up distressed property to demolish so he can build high priced rentals."

"Ah, but that sounds so... legal," said Brooke.

"Ow, ow, ow!" said Brooke and Jorge paused a moment to let the pain pass. She continued, "Yeah, but it's odd that whole neighborhoods are wanting to sell all at the same time. Don't you think?"

Brooke shook her head, not wanting to think about that asshole any more. She pulled a small bottle of lotion out of her bag and squirted some into her hand. She massaged the back of Julia's neck and shoulders as the painful tattoo work progressed.

Julia's eyes closed as she tilted her head back. "Ahhh, that... is ... wonderful."

Brooke leaned closer and kissed Julia on the cheek. Her fingers splayed down onto her friend's breasts. Julia caught her breath when they reached her nipples. She turned her head to the side and kissed Brooke on the lips.

Jorge had just finished covering the fresh tattoo with clear wrap and tape and cranked the back of the chair up. Julia looked down at herself and said, "It really is lovely. Thank you." She reached over, hooked Brooke's neck, pulled her down and kissed her passionately.

And Brooke kissed her back, just as passionately.

Jorge watched the two women grope each other and felt an unspoken invitation to join them. He flipped another lever that dropped the bottom third of the chair, leaving Julia's legs hanging off the edge. He unbuckled, unzipped and pulled the dark cock out of his pants.

Brooke was alarmed by Jorge sudden move, but Julia caught her arm and looked her in the eyes. "It's OK, Brooke" she said with a smile. "It's OK." The girls watched Jorge roughly pull Julia's panties off, spread her legs and, without ceremony, bury his cock deep into her pussy.

With her heart thudding, Brooke watched her friend grip the chair arms and writhe out of the seat as the first waves of orgasm hit. Jorge kept pounding as Julia flopped back in the chair flailing her arms around, trying to pull Brooke into the scrum. Brooke couldn't take her eyes off the Mandela tattooed below her tits that rose and fell with each breath.

Soon, Julia's body was spent. Involuntary shudders rippled through her as Jorge withdrew. He stepped away from Julia and turned to Brooke. Brooke licked her lips as the tattooist's erect cock waved at her and viscous fluid dripped from its tip. She felt the hunger too.

-----

Oscar Range's pickup truck rattled and smoked, but now it smelled awful too. His passenger was a homeless man he picked up down town. Guessing the vagrant had not showered in months, the citrus smell of the orange he gave him did little to lessen the stench. He glanced over and watched greasy fingers pick apart the fruit.

The pickup rolled to a stop in front of a brick two-story with a faded 'for sale' sign out front. Oscar stepped out of the driver's side of the truck and surveyed the street for activity. He walked around to the vagrant's side, wrenched open the door and held a bag of White Castles up to lure the homeless man out of his truck.

"That's right, buddy. This is your new home. Nobody else lives here, so no one will bother you," said Oscar. "Be sure to bring your bag with you."

The homeless man fell out of the truck and snatched his garbage bag of earthly possessions. He timidly followed the bald man up the walk and around to the back of the house. Oscar held out a small bottle of Fireball to entice the old fella to move a little quicker.

A few minutes later, Oscar emerged from the front door and bounded down through the unkempt yard. He tossed the empty liquor bottle into foot high grass, got in his truck and drove away.

One turn and two blocks away, Oscar stopped again at a vacant lot. It once held a proud brick home like the others in the row, but now stood out like a missing tooth on the block. He backed onto the lot, opened his tailgate and pushed a threadbare couch into the weeds. He soaked the couch with gasoline, glanced around quickly to check for witnesses and tossed in a lit match.

As his truck rumbled down the block, Oscar noticed a skinny old woman standing on the sidewalk shaking her fist at him. The bald man chuckled to himself as he drove on.

-----

Rain was pecking at the windows at five in the morning, when Amar woke up his wife. He rolled her over and pulled up her night shirt. He wanted sex before he left for work, but she laid there wordlessly disengaged... just like every morning. Frustrated, he threw back the covers and left the room. It shouldn't be this way, thought Amar. It never used to be this way.

A half hour later, Amar was showered and dressed. Janessa sat at their kitchen table sipping tea watching him eat scrambled eggs, seeded bread, goat cheese and jam. Even though she'd cooked, she had no appetite. She always felt like an unappreciated appliance in the morning; useful but taken for granted. Had her skin been a shade darker, maybe she would have just blended into the shadows cast by the stark overhead kitchen light. She asked Amar, "How's your breakfast, honey?"

Amar grunted and said, "Is good."

Janessa looked out the window. The rain was falling harder now. She asked, "Are you working outside today? It's looking sorta nasty."

Amar glanced at the window and said. "Is OK."

Janessa nodded. For all of his faults, Amar was a good man who worked hard and never complained. She wished she could excite him. She wished she could revitalize their relationship, but he was hard to talk to. He seemed frustrated and she was at a loss for how to help.

Amar pushed back his plate and burped. He took a sip of strong coffee and asked in his husky, eastern European accent, "How is work at library?"

Surprised by his question because he hadn't asked about her work in months, Janessa stammered, "Oh, uh, OK I guess. You know the reference desk doesn't get many visitors during the day. So, I find myself filing and re-filing stuff. Sometimes I read. Pretty boring, you know." Her voice trailed off.

Amar squinted at her over his coffee mug and said, "Ah OK." He set the mug down, pushed back his chair and said, "Well, time to go."

Janessa joined her husband at the door as he was putting on a rain slicker. She handed him his thermos and a bag lunch; and she intentionally let her robe slip open as they exchanged a goodbye kiss, but Amar missed it. He turned and strode through the door into the rain.

As Amar climbed into his truck, he thought to himself, "She is fucking someone else. I just know it."

After Amar had gone, Janessa strolled back through the house to the back door and let her robe fall to the kitchen floor. She stepped through the back door, walked to the middle of the yard and stood naked in the grass, letting the rain wash over her body.

-----

"So, why can't I see it?" asked Ray.

"Because, I don't want you getting any ideas, " answered Brooke as she played with the soap bubbles floating in the tub. "It's tattooed on my friend Julia and it's sort of intimate. You know? "

Ray and Brooke sat in an iron claw-foot bathtub in the only working bathroom in their old house. Their legs were entwined and they faced each other with warm water up to their shoulders.

Ray grinned at Brooke and said, "You're jealous-- aren't you?" Brooke shook her head to object, but Ray continued. "Yeah, you're afraid I will find Julia more attractive than you. You're afraid of..."

Brooke had reached under the water and was tickling Ray's balls to take the steam out of his teasing. Ray leaned back and closed his eyes. It was comforting to know Brooke considered him someone to protect, someone to horde for herself. But her fears were needless. He could not imagine any place better or any place he'd rather be than soaking in century-old tub with his quarter-century-old lover, Brooke.

"Julia told me something about Tony Kitchen today," said Brooke.

"Yeah? What is that douche-bag up to?" said Ray with hooded eyes.

"He's buying up old properties around here. Trying to get the neighborhood blighted, so he can get tear everything down and redevelop." she said.

"Won't the people living in these houses object? asked Ray.

"Yeah, that's the thing I don't get. According to Julia, a lot of people are selling out and leaving," replied Brooke with a thoughtful look.

Ray suddenly sat up in the tub and said, "Mrs. McClatchy, you know-- the tomato lady? She came by again and said something about a bald guy cruising around and causing mischief. I didn't think much about it then, but now it makes sense. I bet that jackass, Cucina, is paying him to degrade the neighborhood. I think I might have seen the guy too."

"We have to do something!" said Brooke.

"Yes, but what?" Ray said as he turned his head in thought.

Ray's contemplation was broken when Brooke squirted soapy water in his face with a rubber ducky.

"While you figure it out, can you give me a good fucking, here and now?" asked Brooke laughing.

-----

Ray wasn't very good at painting, but he was pretty proud that he had managed to get a good coat of white trim paint on the windows and around the front door-- without spilling too much on the bushes. He stood on the front law admiring his work when an old pickup truck came tearing up the block. It screeched to a halt in front of Ray's house and a short man with a shaved head popped out.

"Hey you!" the man shouted as he stormed up the walk. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!"

Ray turned around started and shouted back, "Painting my house! What does it look like?" This must be the guy defacing the neighborhood that Mrs. McClatchy told him about.