Things That Go Bump In The Night

Antoine Laconte gently pushed away sweat-soaked hair that clung to his beautiful wife’s face. Reyjah, his African-American soulmate, chuckled. They had been married for two years; the first one had been rough. Nevertheless, Reyjah’s love for her handsome, Italian husband was evident in permanent ink on her lower back, rear deltoid, and bicep. Her Whitney Boin, platinum, wedding and anniversary sets glimmered on her fingers. Their bed was warm with the heat of their previous action. Reyjah was in her post-orgasmic daze that made her husband beam with pride.

“You always manage to change the subject with sex,” she said to her permanent playmate. She softly raked her French-manicured nails against his chest. Antoine cradled his beautiful, muscular wife in his equally physiqued arms. He stared into her twinkling, blue contacts.

“It’s only Halloween, babe.”

Reyjah Nycolia Bennett Laconte shook her head and laughed. She had tortured him the year before by ordering them Prince Eric and Ariel costumes. She had tripped on her tail and fallen into the pool at Nancy Holden’s Harvest Ball. He had jumped in the ‘rescue’ her when he remembered that she couldn’t swim. Antoine kissed his playful wife on the nose. She was so damn pretty. “I love you,” he said. “I love you, too,” she offered.

“Jasmine and Aladdin.”

“What?”

Antoine grazed her lips with his. “If we attend this year’s ball, we are going as Jasmine and Aladdin.” Reyjah laughed out loud. “Nancy told me that I reminded her of Jasmine…that’s so funny.” “I know you just did not laugh in your husband’s mouth,” said Antoine in a ghetto-fied voice. “You need to lay off the ‘Comic View’, said Reyjah. Antoine stifled her with a kiss. He loved his little vixen so much, but this Halloween, he would have his way. Reyjah’s tongue danced around Antoine’s. He was horney again. Damn! The man would be the death of her. He pressed his warm, sweaty body on top of hers. Reyjah caressed his dark, olive face with a slender finger. He eased her legs apart with his knee. Thank goodness their sheets were machine washable.   The former gigolo gently eased his lips from his hairdresser/wife. He gave her a mischievous smile. “Uh-oh!” She said. “Are the neighbors going to have call the cops again? We can’t keep paying for new windows, babe.” Due to her natural talent for singing, and his natural talent for pleasing, their lovemaking sessions could sometimes cause damage to the homes of neighbors. As well as a noise violation. “Then the neighbors should move, dammit,” he joked in her ear as he simultaneously entered her soft wetness. “OOOOOHHH!” she cried. He was like a rabbit. Not Bugs Bunny, not Roger Rabbit; maybe Ricochet Rabbit. As he plunged into her, she jerked against his body. She could hear him groan with each thrust. Her hands gripped his back, while her head was spinning. Her muscular, brown legs were locked around his waist.

All of a sudden, she heard a thud.

“What the heck was that?” she asked. “I don’t know,” said Antoine in a ragged, frustrated voice. Just when she was about to explode, too. Talk about horrible timing. Reyjah eased from underneath him. She crawled out of bed and went to the closet. She found her blue robe that Midori had gotten her from Japan. “Babe, you’re not going downstairs by yourself,” said Antoine as he put on his boxers followed by his Ralph Lauren cotton, white pajama bottoms. “Get my gun,” she said. “Your what?” “You know where I keep it.” Antoine reached under the mattress and pulled out his wife’s pearl-handled Smith & Wesson. Reyjah took no chances. He reluctantly handed it to her. “Aren’t you being just a bit paranoid, babe?” he asked as he opened the bedroom door. Reyjah walked over to him and kissed him on the lips. “Nah…I’m just from New York,” she cooed. She took her husband’s hand and led him down the stairs of their eight-bedroom mansion.

Reyjah flicked on the lights with her free hand. The couple’s huge, luxurious living room was illuminated with Austrian crystal chandeliers. The front door was still locked, as well as the windows. “Well, there’s no burglar,” said Antoine as he stood behind his lovely wife. Surprisingly, he was still erect from their “unfinished business. He could trace her nudity underneath her robe. Her nipples were perked, and there was a damp spot on the front. He loved her long, jet-black hair that was damp and curly from sweat. Sex with Antoine was equivalent to a Tae-Bo workout. You needed good stamina and plenty of towels.   He wrapped his arms possessively around her waist. “Bell, it was probably something outside,” he murmured in her ear. “Outside, hell…” she quipped. She eased out of his embrace and walked quickly into the kitchen. Her pretty feet were warm against the ivory linoleum. Antoine shook his head as he followed her. “Bellissima, we have the finest security here and we live in a quiet neighborhood,” he insisted as she peered out the window above the kitchen counter. “The neighborhood was quiet until WE moved here,” she joked. “And as far as neighborhood watch….” “Speaking of which,” Antoine broke in. He took advantage of the position that his wife was standing in. Her round, muscle-butt was pointed at his erection…er, direction. Antoine was a classically handsome man. Dark, wavy hair cut to his chin, coffee-colored eyes, bronzed skin and a neatly trimmed goatee’ surrounding a pair of full lips. Whenever he whispered in Reyjah’s ear, she could make candlesticks. She had literally fought hard for the man. He was worth every tear and bruise that her victims endured. Even though that first year had been a “challenge” she still came out on top. She felt warm hands on her buttocks.

“You freak,” she said with a grin.

“You know, my mantra, I don’t stop until you sing.”

“You want the high note?”

“I want the Mariah Carey.”

“Oh damn.”

“Antoine waxed you on the kitchen floor last night?” asked Arianna. Arianna was Reyjah’s Peruvian friend/personal trainer. Arianna and her fiancée’ Salvador were managers of Sweatbox, the gym that Antoine owned. She looked like a prettier Jennifer Lopez with darker hair and green-hazel eyes. Reyjah was rollersetting her friend’s naturally curly hair on large, Velcro rollers.

“No, we had sex on the counter.”

“Let me guess, ‘prison –style’ ?”

Reyjah burst out laughing. Arianna minced words for no one. “ I guess if you want to say that.”

Arianna laughed. Her homegirl had been through so much in her young marriage. “Young” meaning the length of time. “So what are you two doing for Halloween? Having sex in a pumpkin patch?” she asked. “The hell? Are there any in LA?” Reyjah asked innocently. Arianna covered her mouth with her hand. Sheila walked through Reyjah’s door. She was the manager, and Reyjah was the owner of Sha-Hair-Azad, the most down-to-earth salon/day spa in L. A. “Al I heard was ‘pumpkin patch!” she said. “So you know I had to be nosey!” Sheila was Reyjah’s Filipina best friend. Her black hair had bright red streaks peeking through it. Dressed in a blue, ¾ sleeved Guess shirt and a pair of black flare-leg jeans and Skechers, she plopped down on Reyjah’s couch.

“We were discussing Halloween,” said Arianna. “I’m going as ‘Esmerelda’.” “How did you convince Salvador to be Quasimodo?” asked Reyjah. Arianna pointed to her crotch. Reyjah laughed. “Who are you going as, Rey?” Sheila chuckled. “The Little Mermaid?” Arianna giggled. “Shut Up! Sheila!” Reyjah joked. “Don’t get your eye busted!” Just then, Derrick, the resident gay guy sashayed into Reyjah’s station. “All I heard was ‘eye-busted’,” he declared. He kissed his friend-turned-boss on the cheek and sat down beside Sheila.

“Did you whup Antoine’s ass again, Rey?” Derrick asked. Sheila laughed and nudged him hard in the arm. Reyjah rolled the roller in Arianna’s hair. “No,” she said, sheepishly.

“He whupped her ass up against that counter last night, though,” said Arianna. Sheila’s eyes grew wide. “Damn, y’all some freaks,” said Derrick. “I ain’t mad at y’all,” said Sheila. “If I was married to man that fine I’d screw him till my legs broke.” “Now, what kind of since does that make?” said Arianna. Reyjah laughed. “Well, then, I could sit on his lap while he was in the wheelchair…” Sheila trailed. “You really need a man,” said Derrick. “Tell me what’s really going on? Do you need batteries?” Arianna and Reyjah covered their mouths. Sheila turned bright red. She smacked Derrick on the back of the head. “Owww!!!” he wailed like a little bitch. “Why did you have to hit me so hard, you know I’m fragile.”

“Sooo, what are you and your fine-assed husband doing for Halloween?” asked Sheila, quickly changing the subject. Reyjah was near to tears. “ He wants to do Jasmine and Aladdin.” “I hope you have some of that ‘Jennifer Lopez’ glue left”, said Arianna. “That outfit is really, skimpy.” “I hope you got a box of rubbers,” said Derrick, still rubbing his head. “The freaks come out at night…especially on Halloween.” Sheila choked on a chuckle. Arianna stood up while Reyjah motioned to the dryer section. “Y’all can kiss my Big Apple!” she said.

After eight clients, Reyjah did not feel like cooking. When she stepped inside, she collapsed onto the couch. Her chrome cell phone rang. “Hello?” “Hey girl!” It was Midori, Sha-Hair-Azad’s Japanese co-manager/ receptionist. “What’s up?” Reyjah asked as she began removing her blue New Balance sneakers. “I got my Halloween costume,” said Midori happily. “What are you going as?” “A geisha.” “That’s a no-brainer, but you still had to get a costume with all that stuff you get from Tokyo, Kyoto, and Okinawa?” asked Reyjah in disbelief as she wiggled her free toes. Thank goodness for odor-eaters.
The room would have reeked of corn chips. “That’s where I got it from,” said Midori. “I “But ordered it three months ago. I’ll have to get Derrick to help me with my makeup…and Kate will have to give me some extensions.” “Go to ‘Hair’s The Place’, and ask for Hong. She’ll hook you up with some European Silky in #1. That’ll match you perfectly. Get about 26’.” Reyjah informed as she began to unzip her Donna Karan fitted shirt with ¾ sleeves. “Isn’t 26’ kinda expensive?” asked Midori. “Girl, don’t I pay you enough? I just gave you a bonus the day before yesterday,” said Reyjah with wide eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot I put that in the bank,” said Midori quickly, hoping she didn’t piss off her friend/boss. “See there,” Reyjah scolded as she slid off her pants. Reyjah had a penchant for walking around the house in her underwear. Antoine loved it. “Well let me roll out and buy this hair,” said Midori. “Hollah!” Reyjah clicked off her phone.   She lay down on the Oriental couch from her old apartment and clicked on Antoine’s digital TV. “Yay! Cartoons!” she said. “Sailor Moon’s in the house!!” Reyjah was the eternal child despite her womanly body and mature train of thought. She heard the door unlock. “Hey, baby!” she called out. She heard Antoine drop his gym bag by the door. He walked over to the couch. He tickled her French-pedicured toes. “How was you day, Bell?” he asked in his honey-coated accent. Reyjah sat up and let him sit down. He held out his arm to receive an embrace. They kissed gently before she answered. “I had eight clients, today, babe, all new.” Reyjah was exhausted. Her could see it in her blue eyes. She didn’t have to work, but damn if she didn’t enjoy it. He loved her pale blue, Oriental print bra and panty set. It had been a wedding gift from Sheila. He traced the demi-cut of her bra. He enjoyed the feeling of her soft, brown skin. “You smell like work,” she said, sniffing his neck. Antoine was so damn sexy. He could fall into a mud pit, and she would still screw his brains out. He smelled of sweat mixed with Eternity for men. To anyone else, it was funk; to her, it was an afro-disiac. His hand sneaked up her back and underneath her hair. He closed his eyes. His platinum Whitney Boin wedding ring glimmered against the darkness of her hair. Antoine savored every moment he could with his beautiful, outstanding wife.

“What’s for dinner, I hope you didn’t cook,” he cooed as he kissed her on the cheek. “No, I haven’t even taken out anything,” she answered as if in a daze. “I’m taking us to Giovanni’s,” Antoine informed. She looked at him strangely. “What’s the occasion, babe?” she asked. His eyes widened. “I—uh, just want to take the love of my life to the place where it all began.” She sensed that he bulls----ing, but she played along. Please God, don’t let him be cheating on me, again, she thought. His hand slid up her thigh. “We need to take a bath first, don’t we?” he asked, interrupting her doubts. She giggled. “During our baths, we never get clean,” she informed with a smile. “That’s why we take a shower afterwards,” he answered with a Cheshire smile. Antoine took his wife by the hand. “Your mind is so dirty,” she said. Antoine picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. “And I’m going to clean your clock,” he retorted as he ran up the stairs.

Antoine was the only person that could turn a romantic bath into a wet raunchfest. Amidst the bubbles and red rose petals, Reyjah gripped onto the sides of their tub for two while her husband took his time plundering her insides. She screamed with each thrust. His hands firmly held her tight rump. “OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!” she cried. “Wrong, guy, babe,” he said jokingly as he thrust her more aggressively. “OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHANTIONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She corrected. “That’s it!” he said. All of a sudden, she heard a thud. “What was that?” she asked breathless and almost drowning in sweat and bathwater. “That was me, babe, I bumped into the tub,” he said rather sheepishly. He continued his passionate assault on her body until she wracked against him and slid into the rose-petaled water. He helped her back to the surface. Her pretty face was covered in wet, black hair. He withheld his own release for her sake. He had to keep her mind occupied for the next few days. “You’re incredible,” she sputtered. She sensed that her contacts had rolled into the corners of her eyes. “Hold still,” said Antoine as he held her eyes wide open. She had been right. “Bell, you need to open a new pair, these have had it,” he said softly. “Your own eyes are beautiful as they are,” he replied before kissing her on the nose. “Thank you,” she purred as she kissed him on the chin.   He leaned against tub and she lay against his chest. “I love you so much,” he said with clenched eyes. He had “Rey” tattooed on his left bicep which proved just that. He was even thinking about piercing his tongue. “And you can GUARANTEE that I love you, too.” she said firmly. That’s for damn sure, he thought. “Are you ready for our shower,” she asked, grinning. “Now who’s a rabbit?” he asked, laughing.

Burgundy and turquoise was what she wore. It was an interesting mix for her. She had seen a picture of Cher wearing those colors. She loved trying new colors. She even wore a pair of new, blue contacts. Her dress had a plunging “V “in the front and was held around her neck with turquoise crystal straps. The stretch, jersey matte dress was sprinkled with turquoise crystals and she even wore matching open-toe Jimmy Choos. Her hair was in a high ponytail with spiral curls and dropping tendrils. Antoine was a sight himself in a gray dinner jacket and slacks. Everyone would always stare at the lovestruck, beautiful couple.   “Good even, Mr. Laconte,” said Eric, the bomb waiter. “Bellissima, you look lovely as always,” he replied to Reyjah. Reyjah smiled. “It’s always nice to see you, too, Eric,” she answered sincerely. Antoine put his arm around his wife’s tiny waist. Eric noticed that the couple would often get lost in each other’s eyes, as if the world was their oyster and they were two pearls. “I will take you to the balcony,” said Eric as he led the way.

“The view is so beautiful,” said Reyjah as she looked in the night sky. Her plate of rigatoni had long been demolished. Eric had chosen the perfect spot. His favorite customers always desired the more exclusive areas of the restaurant. Even though they were seated way out in buttfield, he didn’t mind serving them. He knew they were like rabbits. The privacy was essential. Antoine sipped his champagne. His hair had been slicked back into a ponytail and his facial hair had been neatly trimmed. “It’s not bad from where I’m sitting,” he replied. Reyjah looked dead at him and smiled. For having such rich brown skin, he would make her turn such a bright red.

“Have you talked to Ms. Holden, lately?” she asked, sipping her grape juice. She didn’t drink that often, but somehow Antoine would seduce her into it. Nancy Holden was the glue that held them together. And she threw really awesome parties, too.

“I talked with her, today, she wants you to sing,” Antoine answered taking a bite of his linguini. “Did you tell her, ‘yes’?” asked Reyjah. “Of course, my Bell,” he said, lovingly.

“Antoine, are you cheating on me, again?”

“The hell?”

“You’ve been banging my brains out, lately.”

“I always bang your brains out, Bell,” he said quickly. “Even before we got married. Even after the ceremony. Even before the honeymoon.”

“It’s not that I’m complaining, but your giving me that ‘hide something’ vibe.”

That’s the problem with having a street-smart wife from NY. Can’t surprise or fool her. Antoine would get the best of her, though.

“Babe, I have a surprise for you,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been boning you like a dog in heat. I had to get you wide open.”

Reyjah smiled. “Really?” “Yes, here it is,” said Antoine reaching into his jacket pocket. “Please wear this to Nancy’s party,” he said softly as he opened the ring box. Reyjah almost fell out of the chair. The ring's band was thick and platinum. The jewel encrusted was a three-carat diamond. Antoine took her hand and gently placed it on her right ring finger. Reyjah was speechless. “What a nice surprise,” she said nearing to tears. Oh it’s not over, yet, thought Antoine with a sly grin.

She was pressed against the door of her Navigator. Her dress was hiked up. Antoine held
each one of her legs as he ravished her. He was gentle than the previous moments. Reyjah had strong muscles inside and out. Her gymnastics ability always came in handy. Antoine’s mouth and tongue were attached to one of her breasts. “Babe! The neighbors!” she said choking on oxygen. “Screw the neighbors!” he growled as he pumped into her. “Those kids don’t go trick-or-treating until tomorrow night!” While still inside of her, Antoine carried his Reyjah into the house. As he walked, his member pressed against her passion knob. “OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she cried. “YOU FREAK!!!” Antoine flung them on top of the couch where he finished her off. Her stiletto heels dove into his side as she climaxed. He came with her. She breathed a sigh of relief. “What a nice surprise,” she said. Antoine laughed and gave her a kiss.

“Go ahead and I’ll meet you there, I have to wrap up some things at work.” Antoine had said on the phone.

“Ooh, this outfit is scandalous,” she had commented. “But it’s cute!”

Reyjah stepped into Nancy Holden’s great room wearing a blue bra top trimmed with gold braid. Her sparkling thong was covered with a pair of sheer, genie pants. She wore a pair of jimmy Choo’s , a blue jewel bindi and long ponytail at the top of her head. She had drawn her eyeliner out to accentuate her eyes. Many bracelets dangled on her muscular arms. Of course, where would she have been with out her huge, hoop earrings? Midori was cute as a geisha. She came with Mulan also known as Sheila. Derrick came dressed as a drag drama queen. Nothing unusual about that. Arianna and Salvador had obviously worked out any costume disagreement. Kate and Deuce Bigalow were disguised as Roger and Jessica Rabbit. “Girl, are you glued into that get-up or what?” asked Akilah a.k.a. Cleopatra Jones complete with gun and Afro wig. “Yeah, you know I am,” she said adjusting her boobs. “Antoine’s gonna have a hell of a time ripping that off,” said Kate. Deuce nudged her. “It’s not my fault they screw like rabbits, and we know about it," she defended. Nancy Holden, dressed as Marie Antoinette, broke into their circle. “How are all my babies doing?” she asked. “We are excellent!” said Arianna. “You all look good, oh my, Reyjah your ass is showing,” she said. “Perfect.” “Ms. Holden got some freak in her,” said Sheila. “You need a man,” said Midori, taking her friend’s hand. “There’s Don Juan over there, he looks just like you, lonely.” “OOOHHH!” said the rest of the group. “Where is your husband?” said Nancy. “He said he’d be late,” Reyjah shrugged. “But he’s never late for one of my soiree’s, “ said Nancy. “Did he get you that ring?” asked Arianna. “Oh yeah, he surprised me with it!” Reyjah said happily. “It’s a gorgeous diamond,” said Kate. “Why thank you, Kate,” said a honey-coated accent. “Hey buddy!” said Deuce in his silly rabbit ears. Antoine shook his old friend’s hand. “I see Reyjah and I are not the only rabbit’s out here, tonight,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Deuce, I feel like dancing,” said Kate, quickly.” Salvador and Arianna followed suit. Ms. Holden stayed behind. “Now, Antoine, you know I usually don’t tolerate lateness at any of my shindigs,” she politely scolded. “But seeing that your wife is singing for free, I can excuse it.” “I think that’s my cue,” said Reyjah laughing. Her husband was dressed in an Arabic man’s costume complete with turban and scimitar. She kissed him on the lips. His bare chest was accented with a gold necklace. She wanted to rip the vest from his body and take him right then and there. “Later.” He said. Much Later.

Reyjah sang “For You I Will,” by Monica and “How Could I Not Love You” by Jocelyn Enriquez. Antoine noticed how thin the blue fabric look against her brown skin. Her breasts were screaming against the halter-top as she sang. She had taken the liberty of rubbing body glitter all over herself. Antoine could feel himself growing aroused. Other men were feeling the same. Knowing that he was the only man that could have her turned him on. Her new ring sparkled in the light. He nodded to himself. Trick or Treat, he thought. My Trick, Your Trick.

After she finished singing, they danced. Her arms were wrapped around his neck. She could feel him breathing heavy against her. She smelled like jasmine oil. Totally delectable. He caressed her bare back. “Damn,” he said. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her blue eyes full of wonder. “Just wait till I get you home,” he said. “You had better ride my bumper, too.”

They had stayed at the party until it ended. It had been great. Reyjah stayed far away from the pool but she had managed to spill some seltzer water on her halter. She was pissy when they walked inside the house. “Halloween sucks,” she said, wiping the stickiness from her chest. “Every year, something seems to go wrong.” Antoine, who was standing behind her, wrapped his arms around her. “Now, now..” he cooed as he kissed her on the top of her head. “Sweet girl.” Their doorbell rang. “Damn,” he said. “I’ll get it, babe,” she said. Reyjah opened the door a gaggle of ninjas and Barbies flooded the welcome mat. “Trick or Treat!” they cried at once. Reyjah smiled. She picked up a bag of assorted chocolate candy. “ My momma says thank you for paying for the windows,” said a ninja boy. Reyjah blushed. “Hey, you kids share this amongst yourselves, my husband and I are going to bed, now,” she said softly. “My daddy says there’s no way a man can sleep being married to a hot babe like you,” said a Barbie. “Y’all be careful now,” said Reyjah quickly as she shut the door. Antoine burst out laughing. She covered her face in embarrassment. “Come here, Jasmine,” he said. Reyjah grinned as she stepped into her husband’s embrace. He kissed her on the cheek. “I love you so much,” he purred in her ear. Just as she was about to tell him the same, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Then, he picked her up. “Babe, what’s gotten into you?” she asked with wide, blue eyes. “Nah, more like, I’m getting into you,” he corrected.

“Antoine, you little freak!” she said. Antoine had taken he down to their huge basement. The room had been decorated with Indian and Batik fabrics, curtains, mats, a huge plush carpet and satin pillows. He had even installed a mirror on the ceiling. “I’ve been reading Kama Sutra lately, he said, as he unhooked her halter. He gently tore it off her body and threw it on the floor. “So this was all the thudding that I was hearing?” she asked. “You were screwing me, while people were putting all this together?” “Correct,” he said. “And the ring was to throw you off.” Reyjah clapped her hands, her breasts bounced as she did. “Cle-Ver!” she said. “You got over on me.” “Not yet,” he said quickly walking over to her, but she stepped away. “You know, I read that long ago women would belly-dance topless to seduce their men,” she said. “Sit down.” Antoine removed his clothing while she danced. With every turn and swish, an article of costume was removed. She was so glad she had waxed. Her heart-shaped pubic hair looked so cute. Antoine could feel himself growing, and he did not even drink milk. Reyjah does the body good. And he was going to do her body good. He managed to grab a bracelet- adorned ankle. “It’s time, for treat,” he said. “No more tricks.” Reyjah caught the ‘do-it-now’ look in his dark eyes. He was so damn fine. She knelt down and let him kiss her. His tongue caressed hers and his body followed suit. Antoine had Reyjah’s body in all sorts of crazy wild positions. See, those gymnastics skills do come in handy. When their bodies exploded in unison after what seemed like hours, they lay amongst the pillows and covered themselves in a satin sheet. Antoine embraced his gorgeous wife tightly. He kissed her on the nose. “What’s that thud?” she asked.

Antione laughed.

“Babe, that’s my heart. Happy Halloween.”

Damn right, it was happy.

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