What happened next occurred in slow motion. Justine later recalled going up the back staircase to the second floor. Her bare feet sinking into the deep pile of the carpeting on the hallway floor and stopping outside the open door to the Boones’ master bedroom. A table lamp turned to the lowest setting bathed the space in soft golden light.
Justine stood in the doorway, unable to move until Precious gave her a gentle push. “Get into bed with him,” she whispered in her ear.
Galvanized into action, she walked over to the bed, and Justine slipped in next to Dennis Boone. She swallowed a groan. He was naked.
As promised, Precious had placed a towel on the sheet where she would lay. The heat from Dennis’s body nearly overwhelmedher as he moved closer. Precious hadn’t told her what she had to do, so she just lay there waiting. Tears welled up behind her eyelids as she bit her lip and then prayed silently. She prayed it would be over quickly, and she could return to her closet of a bedroom.
Then she heard it—soft snores. It was apparent Dennis had fallen asleep. She had been given a reprieve. Justine didn’t know whether to stay in bed or leave. Precious hadn’t mentioned anything about her husband falling asleep. Her reprieve was short-lived when Dennis stopped snoring and moved even closer.
Justine held her breath when his hand went under the nightgown, his fingers inching up her thigh until he covered her mound. She swallowed a moan as his thumb massaged her clitoris, and she struggled not to move from the unexpected pleasure sweeping over her body. Justine did not want to believe that she was enjoying him touching her, but then she felt a gush of wetness bathing her folds of her vagina. Then, without warning, he covered her body with his, and seconds later, his erection replaced his thumb as he pushed into her body.
Excruciating pain overlapped what had been pleasure, and Justine clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She felt as though she’d been ripped in two as he continued to push farther and farther inside her.
“Oh baby, you’re so fucking tight tonight,” he moaned in her ear. “What the fuck did you do to your pussy, because it’s never been this good,” he continued, breathing heavily. “I don’t want to come, but I can’t hold back.” The last word had barely slipped past his lips when he rammed in and out of her body like a piston before he growled as if in pain, then collapsed heavily on her.
Justine couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks and into the pillow beneath her head. The area between her thighs was on fire. And the pain had surpassed her worst menstrual cramps. She counted the seconds when he wouldget off her so she could flee to her room and wash away all the evidence of what had just occurred. She felt used and dirty. She didn’t want to believe her first sexual encounter had been with a married man, one who’d foregone foreplay.
Although she hadn’t had sex before, Justine was aware of what it entailed. She’d overheard her aunts whisper about the men they slept with whenever they’d had too much to drink. They would laugh about the ones who couldn’t get an erection or a few others who ejaculated before they could get inside them. But then, they would go on and on about those who made their toes curl when they suckled their breasts or rubbed their penises against them, simulating sex until they screamed for them tojust do it!
Justine felt the rapid beating of Dennis’s heart against her breasts. His weight was pressing down on her until she found it nearly impossible to breathe. Anchoring her hand between their bodies, she managed to push him enough where he rolled off face down and began snoring again. She scrambled off the bed, picked up the towel, and ran for the door, unaware that Precious had been standing in a corner of the room, watching her husband make love to another woman.
Cradling the towel to her chest, Justine retraced her steps, using the back staircase to her room. She wasn’t concerned that anyone would see her, because her grandmother and the estate’s caretaker, the Boones’ two permanent employees, lived in the two guesthouses on the property.
She made it to the half bath across the hall from her bedroom. Justine threw the blood-stained towel on the floor of the minuscule shower stall, before taking off the nightgown and leaving it in a hamper. She covered her hair with a plastic shower cap, stepped into the stall, and turned on the cold water. It poured down on the towel, washing away most of the blood, before she turned on the hot water and let it sluice over her body. Tears flowed, mingling with the water when she reached for a bar of soap and facecloth. Justine lost track of time when she washed away the scent of Dennis Boone’sbody and his wife’s perfume. And no matter how hard she scrubbed, she still couldn’t feel clean.
It was later, when she lay in bed, that she relived what had occurred between her and the man under whose roof she resided. Justine didn’t want to believe her body had betrayed her when Dennis had massaged her clitoris. She had enjoyed the pleasurable sensations that made her feel good. But it was the soreness in her vagina and thigh muscles that had become a constant reminder that she’d given her virginity to someone so unworthy of the gift she’d planned to offer to the man who would become her husband. Now, she was no better than her mother.
Justine wasn’t certain whether she could sleep with Dennis Boone again. She didn’t want to endure having him push into her body and ejaculate inside her. Perhaps she should’ve called Precious Boone and Lillian Crawford’s bluff and let them contact the police. Getting arrested and possibly going to jail was preferable to becoming a prostitute for two immoral women. And if she were given the opportunity to tell Dennis what his wife and mother-in-law had concocted, there was no doubt he would believe her. Especially if she produced his wife’s nightgowns and perfume as evidence. It would serve them right if she were able to turn the tables on the two scheming heifers.
Justine also contemplated packing her clothes and books and running away, but where would she go? She didn’t have much money and no means of earning enough where she could rent an apartment or a room in someone’s home. Then, she had to think about secretarial school. That was now her priority, because if she were going to attend college night classes, she would need a day job. Baby or no baby, she intended to earn her high school diploma. College would have to wait until after she gave birth.
She rested a hand over her flat belly. She hoped Dennis had gotten her pregnant the first time she’d slept with him, because Justine didn’t know how many more times she wouldbe able endure the subterfuge. And if she were caught, then she would sing like a canary. If she were going to be charged with a crime, then she wasn’t going to keep quiet about the Boones.
Precious had taken a sip of her second cup of coffee that morning when Dennis walked into the kitchen wearing a silk bathrobe over his pajamas. She had gotten up before dawn, and she was surprised to see him this early. Smiling, she raised her head as he dipped his to kiss her.
“Good morning, my love. You’re up bright and early.”
Dennis lingered over his wife’s head before going to the hot plate and picking up a pot of freshly brewed coffee. He poured steaming black coffee into a cup. “Good morning to you, too. You were magnificent last night.”
A hint of a smile reached Precious’s eyes. “So were you. I wouldn’t be surprised if we made a baby last night.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I was thinking the same thing.” Dennis walked over to the table and sat opposite his wife. A dark eyebrow, in an equally dark face, lifted. “I don’t know what it was, but your pussy felt different. It was tighter.”
Precious didn’t want to tell her husband it hadn’t been her, but another woman he’d slept with. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to trick him into believing he’d slept with his wife if she hadn’t filled a highball glass with a couple of ounces of bourbon, laced with a small amount of sleep medication. It was enough to dull his senses where he hadn’t known whom he was making love to.
“You know I hate it when you refer to my vagina as a pussy,” she chastised softly.
Dennis glared at his wife over the rim of the delicate porcelain cup. “A vagina by another name is still a pussy,” he said angrily. “And you have to know the reason I married you is because your pussy is the best that I’ve ever had.”
Precious lowered her eyes, knowing Dennis would be turnedon by the demure gesture. She’d learned to gauge her husband’s moods and had come to know him better than he would ever know the real Precious Crawford. “I never get tired of you telling me that. If my vagina—my pussy—felt different, it was because I douched with alum. I overheard some women talking about adding a small amount of alum in their douche bags, and I decided to use it to see if it worked.”
She’d lied to her husband, but she wasn’t about to reveal he had slept with a seventeen-year-old virgin. The only time she’d used alum was on her wedding night. She’d had to convince Dennis that he was marrying a virgin. Not only had she fooled her new husband, but the blood on the sheet from a small cut above her pubic hair served to verify her claim that she’d never slept with another man. And she had her mother to thank for telling her what she had to do to win over Dennis Boone. Lillian Crawford had stepped in again—this time, to save her marriage—and Precious hoped beyond hope that Dennis would get Justine Russell pregnant and give him a son. She didn’t want to think of the possibility that Justine could have a girl, because she knew it would be impossible to blackmail Justine again after she delivered the baby if Dennis decided to try again for a boy.
Dennis smiled, his large, straight white teeth a startling contrast against his sable-brown complexion. Precious didn’t think her husband handsome in the traditional sense, but still attractive with his strong masculine features and beautifully modulated, deep voice. He was always immaculately dressed, whether in formal or casual attire. Dennis had a standing appointment for a weekly haircut, professional shave, and manicure. There were rumors that her husband, when he’d owned a small grocery store, had been involved in illegal numbers and prostitution before he decided to focus on real estate. He’d begun purchasing foreclosed properties, renovating and selling them for a profit. Now, at thirty-seven, he had acquired the persona of a successful businessman who’d married well. Precious Crawford Boone had the right pedigree toelevate her husband where he’d been accepted and respected among a group of elite New York City Negroes.
“Is it dangerous?” Dennis asked, then took a sip of the steaming brew.
Precious shook her head. “No. I only used a small amount.”
