Paper Cut 1

All of the characters in this work of fiction are consenting adults who are above the age of eighteen.

Also, I want to thank the great Kenji Sato for his assistance in proofreading this work of eroticism. Please enjoy it responsibly.

Mr_Brady

Paper Cut

"Dammit! Now, what the hell would make me go and do something

stupid

like that?"

"Here, Erin, let me check it out. Oooh, this cut looks really deep. C'mon, we'll go find the first-aid kit and take care of this for you."

Daniel had become just about the best friend I thought I could have over the last six months, after he and I had been hired into the warehouse, cataloging used office equipment. He's a tall, well-built, handsome, dark-complected twenty-one-year-old Black man, who's generally well spoken and witty. All my life, even though I'm married now (at least for the time being), I've always been attracted to, and loved, being around guys who had a good sense of humor and could make me laugh. And Daniel was one of those who didn't have to try very hard to put me in a good mood.

Because I wasn't paying close enough attention to the signs, I didn't think revealing my private personal life to him could work out like it did. With my co-worker being such a good listener, I ended up telling him a lot about Greg's and my issues, even the ones that involved our present non-existent sex life in the bedroom.

Believe me, I found out how much of a charmer Daniel could be. And after a few weeks of going into work and confiding to him how horny I was because I had stopped letting Greg fuck me, that's when my co-worker began dropping hints that if I wanted...he wouldn't mind stepping in and taking care of the sexual needs I was telling him about.

"You know there's plenty of times that people who work with each other can have the...y'know, kinda the friends-with-benefits thing."

"Daniel, c'mon, you shouldn't even kid around about stuff like that. I'm sure Greg's gonna find something here real soon. But until that asshole gets his shit together...well...I'm just tired of having to be the one who's going out and having to make the bacon...that's all."

Even though I'd never hung around with Black guys, or even dated them, before getting married, I could tell that if things were different, and I wasn't with Greg, there might've been a chance with Daniel and me. But there was also the fact that I didn't think he was all that much attracted to me; well, maybe a little. But anyway, as the weeks went on, I had to admit how I was starting to find him creeping into my thoughts more and more. Especially, during those times when I'd have the many fights I did with my husband, about his not finding acceptable employment.

I found he just had a sweetness about him, that made me wonder how he really thought about me. And that sweetness he had, really showed when he was able to make me feel at ease when he and I would talk. As a matter of fact, with just about anything we discussed, he was able to give me his evaluation of how he felt about it. And I really liked that not only was he a great co-worker, but he was becoming a good friend, too.

So much so, that when I'd see the vehicle he sometimes drove to work, I would wonder if I should be a little concerned. But considering how Daniel is, he was able to laugh and joke about it until I was letting my guard down. I still remember the first time I'd seen the dark-brown vehicle out in the parking lot of where we worked.

"What the hell is this thing, Daniel? It looks like one of those freaky vehicles they use in the movies where they kidnap people and you never see them again."

"Well, just because it doesn't have any windows in it; Erin, is that why you're dissing it?"

"Uhhh, it just makes me feel kind of 'funny,' that's all I'm saying."

"I'll have you know this sweet ride is a Savana Cargo van. My brother Nate, he's only a year older than me...well, he's really my half-brother because we've got different daddies. Anyway, he got it from a plumber who was retiring and now he's got the interior tricked out real sweet-like. It may not be the best looking, but you oughta let me show you what it's got on the inside. Just about everything you'd need to have a good time in there. He's even got a bed in it...and it's nice and

soft

."

I found it interesting how his description of the bed being 'nice and soft' gave me the feeling that if I had asked him to let me try it out, it wouldn't have been long until he would have wanted to get my pants off and we would have been lying on that mattress doing something else besides sleeping.

Because of the favorable appraisals I'd gotten through the years, from some of my girlfriends who had slept with Black men, I felt a sudden interest to know what it would be like to have Daniel as a lover. And, even though, I was able to push it out of my mind that day, I couldn't hide the fact that when I got home a little later, I noticed a considerable wet spot in my panties.

And on some days when we'd leave the warehouse at quitting time, there'd be his brother's van parked outside, and Daniel would tease me with his comedic falsetto high-pitched voice...

"You sho you don't want to take a spin in the Midnight Cruiser, Erin? We could ride around and all the brothas and sistas in da 'hood would point at me and say, 'ooh, look at that nigga, he's got hisself a really gorgeous, blonde-haired white girl. And wow-sah, I bet dat bitch even shaves her pussy, too; got it all gussied up for that BBC of his dat she loves. Ooh yeah...she's a beautiful white girl, dat's for sho, nigga.'"

I wasn't sure if he realized it then, but just the way he'd make me laugh and help me forget my problems, drew me even closer to him. And in ways that, at first, I hadn't ever expected it should. After all, I was a married woman.

When my husband, lost his job, I trusted Greg enough to temporarily find a place where I could make enough money until he found something he thought suited him. But the problem ended up that my marvelous, humble hubby insisted there was only one thing he was good at. And the only work he would consider looking for, was modeling for fashion magazines, and when possible, maybe even some television commercials, too.

He and I had met through mutual friends four years ago, when I was twenty and Greg had just turned twenty-two. At first, it was like fireworks going off for me, as far as how I felt about him. My family wasn't too crazy about us being together, though. And they were even less excited for us when about eight months ago, he talked me into moving away from them to the Chicago area, where he assured me there would be plenty of work for him; of course, in modeling.

We had dated for about a year and a half, and then eloped. The main reason we did was due to us not having enough money for a church wedding. My family was pissed, but by then, what could they do about it? I guess about the same as me, after I eventually got fed up with his bullshit antics. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

When we first met, I was really attracted to him because I thought that Greg was just about the best-looking guy I'd ever been with. And it wasn't like I was unattractive. There'd been many people that had told me they thought I was...and I quote, 'a hot, blonde babe.'

I'm not one to brag, but when I look in the mirror and I see my twenty-four-year-old, well-kept body, with my size thirty-four B-cup breasts, and my five-foot-six-inch height, weighing one-hundred-and-twenty pounds; I guess I feel pretty good about myself. But it's my full-looking blonde hair that goes down to well over my shoulders, that a lot of people have complimented me on.

In high school, I never lacked for any boys asking me out, and from what I heard through the grapevine, I even had my share of other girls being jealous over how I attracted most of the handsome males in my classes.

And then after I graduated, I seemed to have my pick of young men I went out with. I even got kind of serious with one. But he went and joined the Marines, and after a few months...I never heard from him again. It's funny, though, about that. I ended up finding out later that he was telling people that he was gay. My girlfriends tried to tell me I deserved better. And I thought I did, too. After a few months, that's when one of the girls I knew from high school, Leslie, told me about this hot, handsome guy Greg, who was a model. He was a buddy of her boyfriend. And then it all started from there.

Well, here I was working this warehouse job these last six months, and Greg assured me that he'd been looking for work 'morning, noon, and night.' But from Monday through Friday, at around six-thirty in the morning, when I would leave the apartment to head to the bus stop, he usually still had his ass planted firmly in the bed, as I was going to work so our bills could barely get paid.

It'd gotten so bad between us that I hadn't even wanted to have sex with Greg in probably the last two, maybe even three months. The fact was I was so fucking pissed at him... I'd lost count. And while we're talking about facts...the other unfortunate fact was, my not having carnal relations with my deadbeat husband was leaving me to be a very horny wife. And those were some of the things I would confide to Daniel. And for some reason, I'd always find him ready to listen when I'd talk about those kinds of things.

But the day that everything changed happened to be a Friday, the last day of the work-week, when I ended up taking an unexpected ride in Daniel's brother's van, the Midnight Cruiser.

It was approximately fifteen minutes before quitting time, and I had plans in my head to spend a leisurely unbothered weekend at home. That's when I grabbed hold of a piece of paper I needed to write a note on. But for some inexplicable reason, when I had it in my hand, the upper edge of it grazed the third finger of my left hand (the same one where I used to wear my wedding ring) giving me a deep paper cut. And to tell you the truth...it stung pretty bad.

Once Daniel and I had started our search through the mostly empty building, trying to find the first-aid kit, we eventually ended up with...nothing.

"Wow, Erin, there don't seem to be one anywhere in this place. You'd think somebody would have thought about putting something like that in here, y'know, in case of an emergency and all."

"Well, do you think we should call somebody, Daniel? I don't want to sound like a total sissy-wimp, but this cut hurts like a motherfucker."

Daniel's head quickly snapped toward me in shock, hearing me use that particular profanity. Because as far as I could remember, I had never used that nasty of an expletive in front of him. But on that particular day, it wasn't going to be the last one he would hear coming from me. Or, for that matter, me hearing from him.

"Hey, I've got an idea. Nate let me drive his van today. I don't live far from here. Let's just take a quick spin to my place, because I've got everything we need to patch you up. And after we do that, we'll just head right back here, clock out and then we'll go our separate ways."

"Uhhh, Daniel, I'm not sure if that's the best thing to do. I think we need to at least call somebody in the main office and let them know about it before we do anything on our own."

"Yeah, and what do you think they're gonna do once they find out we don't have a first-aid kit here, Erin? I'll tell you. Because of OSHA, they're gonna probably have to call an ambulance to take you to the E.R. and do the same thing we could do, but with a lot less fussin' bout it."

Once he had me convinced, I was in the Midnight Cruiser riding with him to his place, and Daniel was on the phone, while he was driving. He told me he was calling his brother.

"Hey, Nate, it's me. Yeah, look bro, I'm on my way there with Erin...yeah, yeah...that Erin...she uh, cut her finger, and we need to use the kit at the house. No dude, they didn't have anything where we work to help her...yeah, I know they're cheap assholes. Look Nate, all's I'm asking you to do is get our first-aid kit out the bathroom. Yeah, we'll be there in just a couple of minutes, bye."

While he'd been talking to Nate, I turned my head around to take my first look at what Daniel had been bragging about since the first time I had seen his brother's tricked-up van. And from what I could tell, everything he had told me about it, was true. The bed in the back had to be at least a twin XL, with even some extra room to spare on the side for someone who wasn't lying down on it. It was right then, when I remembered Daniel first talking about the bed and the quick rendering in my mind about what it would be like for him to fuck me on it.

"So, what do you think? Is it like I told you it was?"

"Ummm, yeah, I guess it does look pretty sweet. I can see how that'd be cool to be back there while you're parked, away from everything else and you're..."

"You're what, Erin? Ha-ha, c'mon, you

know

what that bed's for don't you? That bed's for laying some pipe, baby. For gettin' some pussy...I-know-you-

know

-what-I'm-talk-in'-'bout!"

I guess because I had worked with him over the months, I had gotten used to Daniel's, sometimes, rather raw use of the urban vernacular, so it didn't faze me too much when he mentioned 'gettin' some pussy'. After all, I realized that

was

the reason why the bed had been put there in the first place. But it was about the same time as Daniel's explanations, when he pulled up in front of the house where he lived.

"This here's where I stay. Let's go inside and we'll get you taken care of."

"Uh...maybe I should wait here, and you could just bring the first-aid kit to me? I don't want to go in and be a bother to your family."

"That's bullshit, Erin, you're no bother. Beside that, my big bro Nate, he's the only other one that stays here besides me, and since he's heard me talk about us working together, Nate says he wants to meet you. C'mon, it's gonna be alright."

I let him talk me into going into the house. And when I walked through the front door, I was instantly met by a pungent smell I recognized as someone smoking marijuana.

"Hey, Nate, this here's Erin, she's the lady I work with."

And when he rose up from where he'd been seated next to another guy on the couch, smoking a joint, it appeared to me as if he had to be at least about six-and-a-half-feet tall.

"Hey Erin, my brotha's been telling me all bout you. And I can see he wasn't giving me no bullshit. You is a

fine

lookin' lady. Mmm...'

foxy lookin' fine

' if you ask me. Hey girl, what's that finger look like? Here, let me take a look at it."

Acquiescently doing as he had told me, I extended my hand out for him to see my paper cut. I found the differences in our heights and our hands to be fascinating. And it wasn't lost on me how intriguing the distinguishing contrast of his dark, ebony-toned skin was to my light ivory pigmentation.

As he took his time inspecting my gash, I looked into his face, and even though he and I had just met, I saw a rather rugged-featured man, handsome in his own way, but not like his half-brother, attempting to see what he could do to help me.

"Yeah...that motherfucka went deep. Daniel, hand me some of that stuff we put on cuts. Let's make our pretty lady guest feel as good as we can. She's too beautiful to have this paper cut mess her up like this."

With the unpleasant ongoing relationship trouble brewing between Greg and I, the compliments I received from the tall black stranger at that moment were starting to give me kind of a warm funny feeling inside.

Once he began applying what looked to be some kind of ointment to my cut, I noticed it was starting to feel better soon after.

"Hey, where's my manners? This guy Lamont here, he's my homey. Say hello to the pretty lady. What's the matter with you motherfucka, ain't you got no decorum? Ha-ha."

As Lamont reached out his hand to mine, we both traded civil pleasantries, "Hey Erin, I'm Lamont...pleased to meet you."

Even though Nate had told his friend in a kidding way to say hello, because Lamont quickly complied with what he was told, it gave me a good idea where he was on the totem pole.

"Yeah, same here, I'm happy to meet you, too."

And that's when Nate spoke again, like he had been caught in an embarrassing situation and was in a hurry to make amends.

"Hey, I'm really fucking up today. I didn't even offer our pretty lady any of this weed. It's pretty kick, I'll just tell you."

The fact was I had smoked reefer in high school a few times with some friends. But I was thinking it probably wouldn't be the best thing to do with people I had just met, even if Daniel knew them. So even though I first turned down his wishes, the big Black man became so adamant about taking at least one hit, I finally surrendered to his desires to get me high.

"Okay, but I'm only doing this because I know Daniel. It's been a long time since I've smoked any grass, Nate."

Taking a few tokes on the blunt that had been offered to me, it was only a few moments until I could feel the 'kick' that Nate had mentioned. And that's about the same time that I saw him lead his brother Daniel, and Lamont too, into the next room, out of range from me hearing them.

As I tried my best to pick up on what their conversation was about, I decided with the approaching buzz coming my way, the best thing for me to do right then would be to take a seat on the couch that wasn't far from the front door.

Once they'd returned from their pow-wow, Daniel approached me wearing a nervous grin and started talking. But with the weed giving me a decent buzz by then, I could only make out about half the stuff he was saying. But from what I was able to understand, my co-worker was letting me know we were in the process of leaving his place, and that I needed to follow him outside.

And within a matter of about a minute or so, Daniel, along with his brother and Lamont, accompanied us out to the Midnight Cruiser.

Aware of how stoned I was by the time I'd stepped outside of the house, the sliding door on the passenger's side noisily opened catching me off-guard. With time seeming like it was standing still at that moment, I had made the false assumption that Nate would want me taking my place up front, next to the driver, the same place I'd sat when my co-worker had brought me there. But this time, Daniel with a conscience-stricken look on his face, occupied that seat. Lamont had taken his place in the driver's seat. That's when I saw Nate with a big grin on his face crouched in the back section, with his eyes wolfishly glued to my body, instructing me where I'd be in the vehicle.

"C'mon Erin. Why don't you bring your pretty self back here with me. We're gonna go on a little trip before we take you back to work."

Feeling my buzz totally kicking my ass, I told the handsome Black man, who was trying to coax me to sit on the bed with him, "But it's after quitting time anyway by now; if you want, you can just have Lamont drive me home. I'll show him the way."

"Sure thing, honey...that's what we'll do. But you gotta get back here with me first, before we can take off. All the seats up front are taken, that is, unless you want to ride on Daniel's lap? I'm sure he wouldn't mind you sittin' there, and the two of you can talk about the first thing that pops up, ha-ha."

*****

Not wanting to put up much of a fuss, I went ahead and did what Nate told me to do. Assuring myself that I wasn't as naive as he may have thought I was, for the sake of my own honor, I told him so. Unfortunately, I knew soon enough that by the way that I had said it, it didn't sound too convincing, or that I may have had some ulterior motives of my own, for doing what I had been told.