Good Catholic Girl

Then his mouth was tasting her throat. His lips travelled down to her breasts, tasting her breasts.

"Mm-hmm," Kampala moaned as Scott's teeth lightly nipped at her right nipple.

She moaned again when he travelled to her left breast. He alternated between her two breasts.

While his mouth teased her nipples, his fingers were gently spreading her legs apart. His fingers grazed her wet slit and she shuddered with the contact.

"Oh, you nasty boy," Kampala shuddered as Scott pulled his mouth from her breasts and travelled toward her pussy.

"Mm-hmm," Scott agreed.

"Oh, yes," Kampala moaned when Scott blew his hot breath over her wet pussy.

She shuddered when his thumbs pulled her pussy open. She let out a low keening moan when his tongue pushed into her pussy.

"Shit!" she barked out when his tongue brushed over her clitoris.

He looped her thighs over his broad shoulders, pushing her back onto her bed. He cupped her buttocks with his large hands, squeezing the globes of flesh as his mouth sucked and licked at her pussy.

"Shit, aw yeah, there, baby," Kampala demanded when his tongue again made contact with her clitoris.

"Hmm?" he asked, battering at her clitoris with his tongue.

"Yeah, God yeah," Kampala moaned when Scott drove two fingers into her pussy.

She shrieked in orgasm when Scott sucked hard on her clitoris. Scott drove his two fingers in and out of Kampala's quivering pussy while he licked and sucked her essences from her pussy lips.

When her orgasm had subsided, Scott pulled his two fingers from her pussy and stood up. He kept her legs in place with his left hand while his right hand guided his hard cock into her pussy.

"Oomph!" Kampala protested lightly when Scott drove himself home in her snug pussy.

Her grunts soon morphed into groans of pleasure as he pumped in and out of her. He alternated between short, rapid strokes and slow, long strokes

"Aw mother fucker!" Kampala cried out as another orgasm gripped her body.

Scott continued with the short jabs and long strokes. When she could again breathe, Scott pulled out of her tight pussy.

"I wait, what?" Kampala wheezed.

Scott effortlessly pulled Kampala onto her belly, then stretched out next to her.

"Mm-hmm," they both moaned when Scott kissed her slack mouth.

Scott pulled Kampala into a kneeling position and knelt behind her. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down her wet slit, then pushed himself into her again.

"God damn, you a fucking machine, huh? That what you are? You a fucking machine?" Kampala grunted as Scott hammered her pussy.

"God damn, that ass is, I'm going tap that ass, hear? I'm going fuck that ass one of these times, hear?" Scott demanded, pressing a large thumb against her tightly clenched anus.

"Oh no you ain't," Kampala argued.

Scott pulled her left buttock, opening her anus slightly. He pressed his thumb into her rectum.

"Ugh, aw damn, that's just wrong, you a nasty boy, hear? You ain't nothing but a nasty white boy, hear?" Kampala grunted.

Scott's cock felt incredible as it hammered her pussy. Scott had been only the second person to lick her pussy and the first to induce an orgasm from licking her pussy. Kampala had done no positions other than man on top and was enjoying this position; it felt like Scott's cock was jammed into her all the way to her womb.

The sensation of his thumb driving in and out of her back door, though, was an odd, curiously warm feeling. She'd heard of anal sex and had thought it sounded extremely disgusting, completely unsanitary. It had not sounded pleasurable in the least.

But Scott's thumb in her ass felt very pleasurable. It was also quite distracting; he was really hammering her pussy hard and deep.

"You on the pill, right?" Scott wheezed, his hips a blur as he pounded her.

"Yeah, mother fucker, yeah, come in my pussy, shoot in my pussy," Kampala grunted.

The first blast of his hot semen caused Kampala's pussy to clamp down in orgasm. He continued to shoot stream after stream of semen deep inside of her, causing aftershocks. She did groan when he pulled his thumb from her ass.

"Damn, good thing I'm on the pill; white boys shoot that much all the time?" Kampala asked when he finally pulled his wilted cock from her pussy.

"This white boy does, when he's with you," Scott wheezed.

After cleaning herself, after sponging his flaccid cock clean, Kampala dressed again. Scott and she shared several kisses while he dressed. Then Kampala went and woke Amhara from her nap.

"Hi sleepy head," Scott smiled.

"You uh, you going stay for dinner?" Kampala asked.

"I'd like that, but we've got practice this afternoon. Thank God it's just light pads," Scott said.

Amhara did give Mr. Scott a hug and kiss and mumbled another thank you for her teddy bear. Kampala and Scott gave each other several passionate kisses before Scott did finally leave her apartment.

While Kampala and Amhara read through the book of fairy tales, Scott was on the practice field of the ULD Storm. Being a first stringer, he was in the lineup for many of the plays.

Cole Harrison, the head coach of the ULD Storm football team ran them through several plays. He rotated players in and out of the lineup, calling out the plays before calling out the jersey numbers he wanted in the scrimmages.

"Duncan, come see," he yelled. "Seventy nine R, twenty seven, out, twenty nine in."

"Yeah?" Darius smiled, sure Coach Harrison was going to tell him he'd been bumped up to first string.

"Son, been playing for what? This your third year?" Cole snapped.

"Yeah, third year," Darius agreed, still smiling.

"And still don't know what the world's going on? Still don't have no idea what you supposed be doing out there?" Cole snapped.

"I uh, you keep calling wrong plays," Darius defended.

"Seventeen sweep," Cole shouted. "Seventy three out, twenty nine out, Sixty three in, Forty seven in, on three."

"Son, take the play book home, read the play book, study the play book. Monday's practice? You still don't know what's going on? Then you're off the team and I'll get someone in here does know what's going on, where he's supposed be," Cole said and blew his whistle. "What? Martinez, is this seventeen sweep? Is it? Then what you doing on the left flank?"

In the locker room, Darius showered and put on his jeans and tee shirt. Digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he called Kampala.

"Hello?" Kampala asked.

"Hey uh, I uh, I'm coming over, need holler at you," Darius said, voice heavy.

"I uh, no, that ain't a good idea," Kampala said.

"Look, just needing me someone conversate with," Darius said.

"Since when we conversate?" Kampala asked. "Need find one of your boys need conversate."

"Look, bitch, I need come on over, know what I'm saying?" Darius ordered. "I be there in..."

"You can come on over but I ain't opening no door," Kampala snapped. "Like I told you, ain't a good idea you coming on over."

"I get there, you better open that mother fucking door, bitch," Darius snarled into the phone.

Kampala hurriedly packed a diaper bag and grabbed Amhara. She raced down the stairs to her car.

Now that she knew where the St. Elizabeth Parish public library was, Kampala drove to the safety of the large building. Her heart finally quit thudding when she and Amhara were safely inside of the quiet building.

After helping Amhara start scribbling on a large sheet of paper with a large crayon, Kampala dug her cell phone out.

"Need see you," Kampala left on Scott's phone.

A text message popped up; Darius was demanding to know where she was. A moment later, her ring tone began and she pressed the button, sending Darius to voice mail.

An hour later, Scott did call. Kampala and Amhara were outside, Amhara bravely sliding down the eight foot slide.

"Uh huh, Mr. Scott, that's right. Amhara's going all the way up, and all the way down the big slide. We going be doing monster slide before you even know it," Kampala praised.

Then, in hushed tones, Kampala confessed that she was afraid of Darius. They'd had a brief relationship, but he was not accepting that she no longer had any desire to be with him.

"Just let him know you got a new man in your life," Scott suggested.

"Oh and he going be all 'oh, then I guess I got be going' and that's that, huh?" Kampala argued.

"Tell him you got a new man in your life and if he got a problem, he can come on and take it up with me," Scott said.

He did agree to come to her apartment for supper. She smiled when he told her he had to let his mother know he wouldn't be home for supper and promised she'd make it up to him.

"Don't know," he said. "She's making her catfish. Don't know how you can make up having miss that."

"I do my best," Kampala promised.

Darius had obviously decided he could wait for Kampala to come home. To make matters worse, he was parked in Kampala's space.

Kampala angrily honked her horn, waving at him to vacate her spot. Darius got out of his car and marched toward her car.

"Need get on out of here; my man's coming on over, hear?" Kampala angrily shrilled through a small opening in her window.

"New man can suck my dick too, bitch, tell you need holler at you, ass needs be here," Darius snarled, trying to force his thick fingers into the small gap of her window.

"Hey, hey, huh? God! Watch the mouth, dude," Scott said, walking over from the visitor's space. "That little girl don't need hear all that."

"Aw, fuck you, mother fucking ass kiss," Darius sneered at Scott.

"And tell him get his piece of shit on out my spot," Kampala yelled through the gap of her window.

"Duncan, get in your car and go, huh? Heard my woman. Wants you gone," Scott said.

"Your... Aw, your ass, Jeffries," Darius laughed. "Bitch don't want nothing do with your white ass."

"Again, move your car, no, Kampala, tell you what. Ignorant boy here can have your spot," Scott said. "Need have some of my momma's catfish. Y'all follow me, okay?"

"Okay," Kampala agreed and raised her window again.

"Bitch, you ain't, Jeffries, shit ain't over, hear? Bitch, better get on out that car," Darius screamed.

"Hey uh, Momma? Got enough for a couple more people?" Scott asked into his dashboard.

Scott made sure Kampala was following him before turning the corner. His mother agreed that she had plenty of filets and also had plenty of French fries.

"Uh, Momma? I uh, she's got a baby. Cutest little two year old girl you ever seen," Scott said, then cursed when he saw Darius's car speeding up to catch up with them.

"Well, your sister done made sure we all know how deal with them babies, huh?" May Jeffries said.

"Uh, one more thing, Momma," Scott said as he pulled into the driveway.

"What's that? Oh, you home already?" May asked.

"Uh, yeah, uh, Momma, my friend's black; that ain't no problem, huh?" Scott said.

"Now, what kind of question that is?" May asked.

"Momma, send Ritchie on out huh?" Scott asked as Darius slammed on his brakes, pulling up right behind Kampala's car.

"What you want, Squirt?" Officer Richard Jeffries asked, swaggering out of the house.

"Put the fear of God into that ignorant son of a bitch right there, huh?" Scott asked, pointing toward Darius.

"You! License and registration. Now!" Ritchie bellowed at Darius.

"What? What I done, huh?" Darius protested.

"Heard me? I said 'license and registration now,'" Ritchie demanded again.

"Come on; my momma's dying meet Amhara," Scott smiled, helping Kampala gather child and diaper bag.

"Now, Mr. Darius L. Duncan? Anything, and I do mean anything happen? To my brother's car, or to my brother's woman's car? Or to this house? Guess who I'm going come see," Officer Ritchie snarled, handing Darius his paperwork.

He got millimeters from Darius's face. Darius could smell the iced tea the man had been drinking.

"And I won't be this nice about it neither. Feel me, dog?" Ritchie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Uh huh," Darius sneered.

"Now, why don't you go on and get your ignorant ass on out of here," Ritchie said. "Real nice and slow."

Darius slowly backed up, then edged around Kampala's car. He drove to the stop sign, then chirped the tires driving away from the neighborhood.

"What a dumb ass," Ritchie smirked, then walked back into the house.

"And, Kampala, this guy is my older brother, Ritchie Jeffries," Scott said when Ritchie came and sat down at the table again.

"You wash them hands?" May demanded, not even turning from her position at the stove.

"That's 'Big brother,'" Ritchie smiled.

"Older brother," Scott retorted.

"Bench a hundred more than you, 'LITTLE' brother," Ritchie flexed.

Kampala was used to her two older brothers bickering. Usually, those little exchanges would escalate into violent confrontations. But she could tell that the two Jeffries brothers would not pull blades, would not threaten each other with death.

"And who's this? Huh? Who's this young lady?" Ritchie fussed at Amhara.

"Amhara Jefferson," Scott said.

"Well, you just about as pretty as your momma, yes you are," Ritchie crooned to the child.

"Go wash them hands," May reminded him. "Tony! It ready yeah."

"'Bout time," Tony Jeffries said, waddling into the kitchen. "'Bout starve death."

"Yeah, Dad, you look hungry," Scott agreed.

"Uh, hey there, who you?" Tony said as he eased his bulk into his chair.

"Dad, this is my girlfriend, you are my girlfriend huh? This is Kampala Jefferson," Scott said.

"Hmm? Naw, don't care too much 'bout her," Tony smiled and pointed to Amhara. "Meant this one. Look like she planning on eating all my supper."

"Hmm? Oh, this one? Yeah, she eat a lot. This is Amhara Jefferson. Amhara? This is my dad, Mr. Tony," Scott said.

"Hi, Amhara," Tony smiled.

"Kampala? You go to church?" May asked as she began putting the platters of food on the table.

"I uh, no ma'am," Kampala agreed. "I uh, we ain't never been."

"Oh, well, need come on to St. Thomas with us," May decided and sat down. "Uh, Ritchie, we said grace yet?"

"I did. Just didn't hear me," Ritchie smirked.

"Heavenly Father, we thank you for the blessings you have given us. We are especially grateful that you have given us enough to share with our friends, even little girls look like they going eat it all up before I get any of it," Tony said.

"Dad, when you meet God, He going have something say about them prayers of yours, hear?" Scott said.

"And He going say 'least you pray,'" May said. "You pray?"

"Momma, I pray all the time," Scott defended.

"Kampala, ain't got be shy no, get you plenty," May said. "Amhara, you like French fries?"

"Say 'yes ma'am,'" Kampala coaxed.

"Yes ma'am," Amhara agreed.

"Amhara? You want you some ketchup for them fries?" Ritchie asked, grabbing the large bottle.

"Our granddaughter? Anna Bee? Likes ketchup mixed with mayo," Tony said. "Think she'd like that?"

"Anna Bee's my sister's oldest; she's nine," Scott said.

"Becky got herself a sugar cane farmer," May said. "Man! Don't never marry no farmer! That some hard work, yeah."

"And ain't never done," Tony agreed.

"Twelve thousand acres," Ritchie threw in. "Every time see Becky and Timmy? They planting. Or they gathering. Or they rotating. Why they having all them kids. Need help."

"Anna Bee's nine, but she already knows how drive a tractor," Scott agreed. "Man, Momma, this good yeah."

"Same as I always make it," May waved away his compliment.

"And you always make it good," Ritchie said.

"Miss May? This is really good," Kampala agreed.

"Oh, well, thank you," May beamed.

"What?" Scott laughed. "We get 'shut up' and she gets 'thank you' huh?"

"You hear me tell them shut up?" May asked Tony.

"Ain't heard nothing," Tony said. "Busy eating."

After dinner, Kampala watched as a mason jar was taken out of the window. There was a black liquid in the jar.

"Kampala, we fixing have us some ice cream; you want some coffee go with that?" May asked.

"Uh, yes ma'am," Kampala agreed.

The black liquid was poured into a large glass measuring cup, then put into the microwave. After the microwave gave an anemic 'ding' the measuring cup was removed and the black liquid was poured into five small cups.

"And here we go," Tony said, placing bowls of ice cream in front of Scott, Kampala, and in front of May's seat. "Can Amhara have a little bit?"

"Yes sir," Kampala agreed.

She watched Scott take a large spoon of his ice cream and drop it into the steaming cup of black liquid. She followed suit and stared in disbelief as the dark liquid did not change color. A second spoon of the vanilla ice cream did lighten the coffee slightly.

"Take our French press, make a whole pot," Ritchie said, already sipping his coffee. Then pour it into a mason jar."

"Momma puts it in the window, lets it age for three, four days," Scott said and sipped his coffee.

"What we don't drink? We paint the walls with," Tony joked.

"Just about!" Kampala agreed, sipping the still quite hot, very bitter liquid.

"My grandmamma? Lived be ninety eight years old; always said it was her coffee keeping her going yeah." May said. "Tony, get the book, huh?"

"No, Momma huh? Not the book. Just met her," Scott complained.

Kampala found a photograph album of Scott, and Becky's and Ritchie's childhood placed in front of her. May, or Tony pointed to each photograph, telling her about the events surrounding the photograph.

"Halloween? See anything?" May teased her sons. "Uh huh? Ritchie's a police man? And Scott's a football player?"

"Guess every day's Halloween to them, huh?" Tony said.

"And Becky's a ballerina," Scott defended.

"Okay, we going bed. Ritchie, sure you can find you something do," May ordered after the last page of photographs was shown.

"No. Not really," Ritchie smirked.

"Richard Anthony Jeffries," May said forcefully.

"Yes ma'am," the police officer laughed. "Kampala? Great to meet you."

"Uh, yeah, real nice meeting you too," Kampala agreed.

May shocked Kampala with a tight hug. The woman also hugged Amhara and told the sleepy girl she wanted to see her again.

Tony smiled and told Kampala he hoped to see her again, and even the bottomless pit two year old girl.

"Hush you. That child didn't eat all that much," May said.

"I think they liked me," Kampala whispered as she and Scott sat on the couch.

"Well, yeah," Scott agreed. "But, you like them?"

"You kidding, right?" Kampala asked.

"Hey, Kampala? Listen, you get home and that Darius fellow there?" Ritchie said, coming into the living room. "Call me. I'll be right there, or I'll get a few of my brothers in blue out there, okay?"

With that, he handed Kampala one of his cards. He then gave Scott a brotherly punch and walked out of the living room again.

Kampala and Scott talked quietly; Amhara was sound asleep at the end of the couch. A few touches led to a few kisses and some light petting.

"Okay, it's getting late and Amhara needs be in her bed," Scott finally said.

"I uh, thank you," Kampala quietly said and kissed him.

"Thank you," Scott said.

Kampala was relieved to see no sign of Darius when she arrived home. Amhara was fussy as her mother dressed her for bed, but was soon asleep again.

In her own bed, Kampala did something she rarely did. She masturbated. As she rubbed her slick pussy lips, as she teased her clitoris, she imagined Scott Jeffries making love to her.

"What time y'all go to church?" Kampala asked when a sleepy Scott answered his phone.

"Nine thirty, St. Thomas Aquinas," Scott said.

"Ooh, I got it bad, huh?" Kampala giggled as she turned off her lamp and drifted off to sleep. "And he a white boy too."

May and Tony smiled happily when Kampala and Amhara joined them at St. Thomas Aquinas the following morning. Scott looked shocked for a moment, then greeted Kampala with a hug and a kiss.