Ty & Cinda–A Tale of Forbidden Love-Part 2

This is part 2 of an ongoing story.


CHAPTER 4

I woke with a start. A hard nipple had somehow found its way into my mouth. I looked up to see a smiling nymph with “café au lait” skin and a sensational curvy body. “Is this my morning treat?” I closed my mouth to suckle and nibble her tender tissue.

“I wish every morning could be like this.”

“So do I. Do you think we’d ever tire of being in love?”

“I know I wouldn’t, Ty. What about you?”

“Never—would you believe that I’d never even been on a date before I met you? Eighteen years old and a virgin is one thing, but I never even went out with a girl.”

“Well, you may still be eighteen, just like me, but you’re no longer a virgin, are you? I wasn’t any different. I’m eighteen, too and before you no boy even paid me the least bit of attention.”

I extricated my mouth from her teat to speak, “That I find hard to believe. This must be a community of idiots. What time is it? I promised your momma I’d take you to church.” I looked over to the clock; great—6:43. “Do we have time?”

“You must be kidding, Ty! Didn’t you promise we could play in the morning?”

“I don’t actually recall promising, but I’ll never turn you down.” I nibbled on her teat and pulled her down for a kiss.

“Morning breath,” she warned me.

“Who cares? I love you, Cinda from your too-light and too-dark skin to your wrinkly nipples to your cute tasty pussy, even all the way down to your toes. Now, be quiet and kiss me! That’s an order!”

Cinda could barely hold back from laughing, but she did look me straight in my eyes and whisper, “I love you, Ty. I never thought I’d say that to anyone, but I do. I know we’re just kids, but…” I covered her mouth with mine. My tongue found hers. They danced a dance of love and passion and lust until she reached over my body for another condom. This time she put it into her mouth, sliding it down my rock-hard pole.

“Let me guess—you saw that on the internet.” Cinda couldn’t hold back the biggest grin I’d ever seen. She nodded emphatically even as she rose over me. “Damn, woman—you are insatiable.”

“I am when it comes to you, Ty. Now follow your own advice—be quiet and fuck me.”

I grabbed her chin, showing my anger. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that word again, Cinda. We make love. People who have sex when they don’t have any feelings for each other; they fuck, but you and me—never. I accept your apology.” I reached up and kissed her again even as her sweet pussy stretched around my cock. I could never have imagined how wonderful this felt—how warm, how moist and tight.

Cinda began to rock on me. I thrust up deep into her core. Amateurs we may have been, but we moved together like parts of a fine timepiece. Faster and faster we went. Harder and harder I pushed into her, lifting Cinda from the bed every time. Soon we were covered in sweat. The air was hot and humid this morning, but we never noticed. An army could have forced its way into the house and I doubted we’d even notice. As exquisite as it was it couldn’t last forever. I felt it coming and I thought that Cinda did, too. I pinched her clit and she exploded, a violent spasm coursing through her body. I erupted into the condom wishing that it was Cinda’s wonderful body instead—maybe someday, I prayed.

We lay silently until I checked the clock again. I patted Cinda’s butt and kissed her cheek. “That time, eh? Okay, Ty at least I can look forward to showering with you. C’mon.” She eased off my shrunken cock then we both realized the chance we’d taken. That condom should have been removed a long time ago. Hand in hand we walked to the shower. I had my own in the bathroom attached to my room. It was big enough to accommodate several people, but I found the closeness of standing in the tub endearing. It meant that we’d have to stand very close together, our bodies rubbing against each other almost continuously. We washed each other and kissed and kissed. I had a blast rubbing my soapy hand up and down her butt crack. Even Cinda found that funny.

“I’ve never even thought of doing it there, Ty. I think I would if you wanted it. I know you’d never hurt me.” I leaned down to kiss her again then I helped her from the tub and dried her beautiful body. Her hair was wet so I shooed her out to dry it while I toweled my body dry. We ate breakfast, clothed this time, and walked the mile to her church, her hand in mine. I’d packed a white short-sleeved dress shirt, long slacks, and a tie expressly for this purpose.

Not surprisingly I was the only white person there. I saw several of my friends from the park and school. We chatted outside for a while, but I was silent once I was in the building. Church was for praying, not idle chatter. I did sing all of the hymns and even accompanied Cinda for communion. We left about two hours later for the walk home. En route I had a call to my cell; it was Monroe telling me he and his mother would be home by 4:30. Cinda and I decided to forgo lunch. We climbed back into bed where we held each other for almost a half hour. We told each other how much we loved each other over and over, probably a hundred times, at least. We kissed and fondled each other and in the end neither of us could take any more. I rushed to roll a condom down my aching cock and plunged deep into Cinda who surprised me by grabbing her ankles and pulling them up onto my shoulders.

There must have been something special about this position—Cinda groaned in rapture immediately with the very first thrust. She began to shake after only thirty seconds and her orgasm followed shortly thereafter. On and on it went until I was afraid I was hurting her. “Don’t stop, Ty. Please…please don’t stop. Oh God…don’t stop.” I fucked her even harder, so hard that I came almost immediately. Still I pumped her sweet pussy even though every thrust hurt my ultra-sensitive cock. Finally, with a sigh that sounded like air escaping from a balloon, Cinda fainted in my arms. I moved her legs down and eased out of her, lying by her side.

Cinda’s hair hung in sweaty ribbons as I caressed her face and body. It was some ten minutes later that she roused, her eyes still glassy. I waited a few minutes until I could see she was lucid. “C’mon, we both need a shower and we have to clean up this bed.” I pulled her up and led her into the shower. Fifteen minutes later we were dry and dressed. Cinda changed her bed while I cleaned the tub and scrubbed the floor. We finished by emptying the kitchen trash. Even a cursory examination would reveal all the condoms we’d used, but we were both sure Momma and Monroe had known exactly what we’d do when I was given permission to stay over. I phoned my mom to tell her when I’d be home. Cinda and I were seated on the couch when her mom and Monroe walked in.
Monroe was excited to tell us about his college visits. He was a three sport star—football, basketball, and track—and was hoping for a scholarship. He was a solid B+ student, which I thought would help, too. We listened for twenty minutes when Cinda interrupted. “Momma, we had a break-in last night. Ty told me the man had a gun. He injured him with his stars.”

I could see Momma’s confusion so I explained. I pulled the four remaining stars from my backpack and showed her the bloody star I had sealed in the plastic bag. I left that one with Cinda as I excused myself, unlocking my bike and loading the backpack onto the carrier. I had my school pack on my back as I wheeled the bike out to the lane. “Thanks for everything, Cinda. I think you know I had a wonderful time and I wasn’t kidding—I do love you.” She threw her arms around my neck and held me tightly. A kiss later I was on the road, just minutes away from the home I’d grown to hate.


CHAPTER 5

I expected to catch a lot of shit from my Grandpa who had forbidden me to see and stay with Cinda probably five hundred times at least, but I was surprised. He was cordial and friendly. I couldn’t believe it. We talked at dinner about my weekend and how much we had studied, even about attending Cinda’s church although I scrupulously avoided my sexual encounters with her. I left once we had cleaned up and retired to the back yard to run through my exercises for basketball. The start of practice was only three weeks away.

Cinda and I did very well on the Math test Monday morning. She had a 94, her highest grade to date and I had a 99, my worst. Ha ha! Cinda greeted me in the hall after class with a hug as she whispered that she missed me. I agreed as we hustled to our next class. We met again at lunch and on the bus after school. We studied as we had over the prior weeks, but I made a change, carrying a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes with me. I changed in her bathroom and ran home, arriving there a sweaty mess. I’d always found running the best way to get into shape.

It was Thursday at dinner when my Grandpa invited me to join him on one of his shrimp boats Saturday morning. “Sorry, Grandpa I have a date for the football game.” He offered then to take me on Sunday. I wanted to decline, but Mom and Grandma thought it was a wonderful idea, an opportunity for us to bond. I reluctantly accepted, but I was wary. Leopards rarely change their spots. I didn’t understand his change in attitude. He had cursed me when he learned that I’d spend the weekend with Cinda; now he was all lovey-dovey as though I was his favorite. I knew I wasn’t anything close.

Cinda and I hitched a ride to the game with DeJuan and his girlfriend. We cheered for Monroe as he led the team with over a hundred yards running and two touchdowns. Unfortunately, they were our only scores. We lost 20-14. Cinda and I walked home, wanting to extend our time together. I was pleased when Momma invited me to dinner. I called Mom for permission; I wasn’t surprised to hear Grandpa swearing at me in the background. Everything was back to normal.

I congratulated Monroe on a good game, but he was down. “We can’t block worth a damn. There’s no running back on earth who can run when there’re no holes. We were much better than that team, but we couldn’t score when we had to.” I clapped him on the back and changed into my running outfit. I was home ten minutes later. Grandpa yelled at me for being so late, reminding me that we had an early start in the morning. I packed my sweatshirt in my backpack then studied for an hour or so before turning in.

I was up before six, ate breakfast and was ready before Grandpa was even out of bed. We drove the short distance to the dock where Grandpa introduced me to his mate Tony. He had long scraggly hair and a hawksbill nose. How interesting.

I watched from the cockpit as Tony released the lines that held the boat to the dock and Grandpa expertly backed out into the harbor. I stood with him, my backpack slung over my left shoulder, in the cabin. I was surprised that there was only the single crewman, then again maybe not. Clearly, operating the nets would require more than one man, so what was the purpose of this excursion? I had a feeling I knew, but time would tell.

We were well out into the gulf when Grandpa told me, “Ty, go out with Tony. He’ll show you how the nets work.”

“I’d rather stay here with you, Grandpa.”

“Do what you’re told! Now…go aft with Tony. He’ll take good care of you.”

I walked aft and as I did I realized my backpack felt kind of heavy. I felt the pocket and realized that I’d never removed my throwing stars after my weekend with Cinda. Dropping the backpack by a cabin wall I looked back toward the stern where Tony appeared to be busy. It wasn’t long before I realized it was a ruse. He had spent more than five minutes playing with some lines, but accomplishing nothing. I turned my back to him, keeping his reflection in the nearby window within my peripheral vision. I was hardly surprised when he ran up behind me and grabbed me, his arms wrapped tightly over mine and my chest.

I surprised Tony by lifting my legs up to the wall and using the leverage to ram my head forcefully back into his. He staggered a bit, but still held me tightly as he tried to walk me to the boat’s side. I drove my thumbs up and back. The left missed, sliding in futility along his cheek, but the right hit home. I gouged into his eye with all my strength. I’d rip it out—pull it from its socket– if I had to. Few people can handle that kind of pain without reacting strongly. Tony lost his grip on me as his hands flew up to his eye.

“Your body is a spring, Ty. Use it wisely.” That’s what Sensei Aoki had told me; I heard him now as clear as day. I pivoted to my left leading with my elbow. It was a savage vicious blow, connecting squarely with his jaw, rocking his head back violently. In a basketball game I’d be thrown out and suspended for sure, but this was a different game—the game of life—the game for my life! I followed with my right as my body spring unwound, recalling what Sensei had told me—“Only a fool punches with his fingers.” The heel of my hand smashed into the bridge of his nose. I could feel the cartilage and bone shatter under my blow just as I could see the blood spurt explosively onto the deck.

My spring had turned completely to the left, now it turned back, the heel of my left hand striking his sternum with all the force I could generate. I was sure he’d scream if only I hadn’t driven all the air from his lungs. He staggered again and when I swung my right, the side of the hand striking his temple, Tony dropped like a rock even as the blood flowed in a steady stream, staining the deck. Looking around quickly I found what I thought I needed to finish the job I had started on Tony. There were several coils of rope hanging from a steel support. I pulled one of what seemed to be twenty-five feet of quarter-inch braided nylon from the hook. Several loops secured by two half hitches immobilized his wrists then I pulled his ankles up, tying them tightly. When I had about eight feet of rope left I looped the line between his ankles to secure the knots and pulled the rope tightly to his neck. Two quick turns again secured by a couple of half hitches and Tony was stuck. I prayed he’d struggle and strangle himself in the process.

There was only one more thing I wanted to do. Checking several cabinets led me to what I sought—duct tape. I wrapped his fingers together with about a dozen turns of tape, completely eliminating any possibility of untying the knots. I tore about a foot of tape from the roll and wrapped them around his thumbs before turning to confront my grandfather. Tony may have been the instrument, but Grandpa was the bandleader—the one who was calling the shots. I hesitated at the last second, kneeling next to Tony’s inert form and pulling up his shirt. There on his stomach were two telltale rectangular bandages; I’d hit him twice in our earlier encounter.

I was always a person who thought before acting. I’d always believed it the wiser course—that’s what I did now. Sliding my belt as far to the left as possible, I moved my smart phone from my hip to just under my navel. Selecting the appropriate app, I turned it on and returned it to the storage clip. There’d be a video of wherever my body pointed. My four remaining throwing stars I placed in my left hand where they’d be ready if needed.

Walking carefully up to the cockpit on the starboard side I peeked through the window in the sliding door. There was no sight of my grandfather so I assumed he might be in what he had earlier described as the chart room although I had seen several bunks in there, too. I slid the door open with a bang. It wasn’t long before I heard him shout, “That was quick, Tony. I told you that grandson of mine was a wimp. We’ll wait an hour or so and then report him overboard. By then we’ll be miles away. Your money is on your bunk—money well spent in my opinion.”

He had just emerged when I spoke, “Sorry to upset your plans, Grandpa—Tony is in no shape to collect anything.