“The Lockdown”
Part Four: Love Finds Loni / Jackie & Tito
A Jacksons Erotica By:
MJsLoveSlave
The Following Morning
Jackson Mansion
Spring Beach, California
Steven Randall Jackson was a pitiful sight.
Observing him from his bedside, in the light of day, spilling through the open windows of his bedroom, the full extent of his trauma was revealed to me.
Sprawled on his back, with the covers tossed back, Randy wore nothing more than a pair of turquoise bikini underwear. It was all he could stand to have on himself after his return from the hospital.
All over his muscle-bound, toned body, were so many black, blue and purple bruises, it seemed the poor man had been tie-dyed. Down his thick, left thigh, a bandage concealed the thirty-odd stitches used to close a wound there, left behind by the buckle of the belt his brothers had been brandishing the night before.
Even in his sleep, it was obvious Randy was in pain; instead of breathing normally, he was grunting.
His handsome face bore a sizable bruise on the right cheek, where I was sure he’d been punched by a fist attached to one of his enraged siblings.
Bending over him, I smoothed a few of his tousled and stray curls from his forehead, before pecking it ever so softly.
I rest my forehead against his a moment, listening to his light grunting. It took al the willpower in me to not start crying.
This man…was in a mangled heap because of me. All because of me.
The whole “rough rape” role-play had been my sole idea. Influenced by the lewd tales woven for me by Michael, I had approached Randy. Asked him if he wanted to participate in something like that. It was an idea that sparked better for him than his bejeweled cigarette lighter.
It was all supposed to have just been a game. Nothing more than a game.
And we had both emerged the losers.
Randy a battered victim, and me, brimming with guilt over the matter.
I had never felt such an overwhelming sense of guilt in all my life.
It was all my fault. All my fault.
Leaning back to observe his pert, chiseled face again, a small, startled gasp left me.
“Oh!”
Randy’s eyes, dark and somber, were wide open and on me.
“You’re…you’re awake…” I stammered, backing up a few paces as with a loud moan, Randy used just his arms to pull himself up into a seated position.
“Awake?” He scoffed and shook his head, curls falling across his forehead. “Awake--that’s funny. Hell, I’m lucky and blessed to be alive.”
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I took one of Randy’s large hands in my own and absently began caressing it.
Unable to bear looking at him, I told him,
“I--I--I really am sorry for what happened to you Randy. It shouldn’t have happened. None of it should have. You don’t know how badly I feel about this--”
“Nowhere near as bad as I feel.” Randy shook his head and I was surprised to see he was cracking a smile at me. “Feels like a semi mashed me. Shit.”
Well, that did nothing to make me feel better or calm my nerves.
Dropping my eyes again, I added, near tears,
“If only I had spoken to Marlon before we did this. At the time, I didn’t realize how it would look if one of the others had walked in on it. How bad it would look. How bad it would seem. With everyone else outside, I didn’t think anyone would come in. I didn’t think that Michael--I just didn’t think Randy!”
A rough finger was pressed to my lips, silencing me.
“Don’t go blaming yourself for this, Loni. Don’t you dare. I should have figured that Michael would have been the first one back in the house to start getting ready to go out for dinner. His little prissy ass always takes forever before an outing. It was my own stupidity that let me leave the room with you still strapped to the damn headboard.”
Raking his free hand through his hair, he sighed deeply,
“I left to go smoke. After that kind of ‘activity’, I always light up a cigarette. And since the rest of the brothers act like I’m committing a sin to smoke in the house, I went out front. I was only gonna be gone fifteen minutes at the most, and you were sleeping fine when I took off.”
Bringing my eyes up to his I nodded grimly.
“Yes…it seems fifteen minutes was just long enough for all Hell to break loose.”
Searching his face, I finally spoke what I had been wondering since the we had all left the hospital.
“Are…are you very angry with me, Randy?” I whispered softly, taking hold of his hand once more.
He was quiet for a long moment before replying candidly,
“You’d think I would be--especially after I nearly got the Black knocked off my ass. But I’m not…” My cheek was pinched affectionately.
“I know you’re sorry Loni. I knew that way last night when you threw yourself down on me and begged my brothers to stop whipping me.”
Tears started to spring forth.
“…but Randy…” I sniffled. “They would have never whipped you in the first place if I hadn’t--”
I fell against Randy, hugging him, and weeping.
“I know Loni. You don’t have to say it Honey--I already know.” Randy’s strong arms were around me and stayed there until I had quieted down some.
“Is…is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” I whimpered, as he pressed my head against his chest.
“I don’t have a tremendous sweet tooth, so I don’t think I want a huge, hot fudge sundae like you gave Michael.” Randy chose then to laugh and it was the best noise I had heard all day. “And I’m too sore to do anything wild, so you can’t apologize to me the way you did to Marlon….”
He trailed off and I was squeezed tighter.
“But there is something you can do for me, Loni.”
“What, Randy? Anything.” I vowed, listening to his heart thumping against my ear.
I noticed his heart rate seemed to quicken and his breathing became more shallow.
Over my head, Randy spoke, his voice high and strained.
“Take my drawers off, Loni…I need to feel your touch…”
* * *
That Very Same Afternoon
“Apple Brown Betty…Brie en Crute…Capon with Pearl Onions…”
I murmured to myself as I flipped through the red, leather-bound book of my recipes, trying to select a dish to prepare for dinner that night.
“…You busy, Baby?”
Taking my attention from my tome, I felt my cheeks going rosy as Marlon came bouncing in through the open French doors of the kitchen.
He was dressed extremely casual, wearing red tank top with light-rinsed blue jeans--that hugged him even better than I could--and sneakers so white, they practically glowed. A pair of red Wayfarer shades rested on top of his head, their mirrored lenses showing my reflection as he came closer.
Dangling from his hands were several, dark yellow, paper bags.
As he bellied up to the counter, I giggled,
“You know I’m never too busy for you--what’s up?”
Setting the bags, five in all, on the counter, Marlon gave me a long, up and down look, before replying,
“Do you know where I’ve been since I left after breakfast this morning?”
Flipping a page in my book, I shook my head.
“Nope--”
“I’ve been stomping the pavement all day, going in and out of every store in town, looking to replace that flower-smelling crap in your bathroom.” Marlon began rummaging in one of the bags.
“And I finally found a bunch of stuff that smells like your perfume--that delicious vanilla scent. Check it out.”
Marlon started rattling off products to me, as he placed them on the island.
“Bars of soap, bubble bath, lotion, body scrub, bath salts…I also got you some scented candles…”
Reaching over, I knocked his shades down over his eyes.
“Don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard with this vanilla stuff? My bathroom’s gonna smell like a bakery!” I teased as Marlon fumbled with the shades, perching them on top of his head again.
“Hey, that cupcake scent drives me crazy!” He laughed, coming around the counter and peeking at my book.
“What’s all this? Looks like a Bible or something.” He commented, squinting at the pages. “Hmmm…’Tiramisu’. Don‘t recall hearing of that Gospel. What is this, a cookbook? All these recipes yours?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, turning another page. “I wrote them all myself--I’m trying to figure out what to make for dinner tonight.”
“Wow…Speaking of dinner…um…” Marlon hesitated and completely removed his shades from his head, twirling them in his hands. “You don’t have to cook dinner tonight.”
Eyeing a recipe for Pepperoni Calzones, I chuckled,
“I don’t have to cook? And what do you and your brothers intend to eat? Bowls of hot air?”
What Marlon said next made every hair on the back of my neck rise.
“Somebody put in a request for you. You know, to ‘see’ you, Loni.”
“Oh…” I staggered a moment, holding onto to the island to support myself.
I had known, in the back of my mind, that this would eventually happen. That as I had been told, one of the brothers would approach Middleman Marlon, asking to, as he put it, see me.
Looking down at the tops of my green jelly sandals, I turned away from him slightly. Suddenly feeling apprehensive, I inquired,
“Well, who--who wants me, Marlon?”
There was a light squeak, and Marlon’s sneakers appeared toe-to-toe with mine.
His cologne, mild and faint, tickled my nose as he stood close to me.
Fingertips running down my arm, he answered,
“Jackie and Tito. They want you tonight.”
I reeled a moment, before my head popped up and I narrowed my eyes at Marlon, trying to make sure I had heard him correctly.
“What the hell you mean ‘Jackie AND Tito’?”
I demanded, the room starting to tilt.
Was…was this man trying to tell me that two of his brothers were on the make for me at the same time.? That the two of them wanted me? For the three of us--?
Seeing I was starting to get wound up, Marlon grasped my shoulders tightly.
“Whoa! Whoa, Loni! Cool it a minute Baby! Don’t blow a gasket!”
He was trying to shush me and before I could stop myself I had slapped him, his head whipping to the side.
“Are you nuts, Marlon? I mean have you gone ape-shit crazy? I know I agreed to this thing, but I thought every ‘encounter’ would be strictly one on one. You never said anything about more than one brother at a time! What kind of girl do you think I am? I mean I‘m in this racket, but I do have some scruples left!” My jaw was hanging as I watched Marlon trying to regain his composure.
Head still turned, Marlon spoke through gritted teeth.
“I know you’re young Loni, the youngest person in this house…but you ain’t that damn young. You’re not naïve. Hell, even Michael ain’t that naïve! They got six grown-ass men walking around this house. You can’t really believe that we’d all come knocking in singles, Baby!”
His head slowly came around and his eyes, crystal clear sparkled at me.
“Some of the brothers are greedy, like Jermaine. Can’t wait. And some don’t mind sharing…like right now. Jackie AND Tito…” Marlon’s head cocked to the side as he continued to stare at me.
“I keep telling you to quit fooling yourself, damn it. You’re a hot little package Loni. Of course more than one of us are gonna ask to have you. It was bound to happen!. You’re a little piece of sexual ecstasy and the sooner you realize that, and embrace it, the less we’ll have scenes like the one we’re going through right now.” A hand patted my cheek.
“It’s not that…it’s just…well…” I didn’t know how to say it.
I didn’t have to say it. Marlon picked it up right away.
“Oh. So that’s what’s wrong--you never had a threesome before.” Hands grasped my shoulders and my forehead was smooched.
“Don’t worry, Baby. If you can handle Randy’s flighty ass and still see straight, Jackie and Tito will be a walk in the park. Trust me, they’re even more gentle than I am.” He added and I jumped as he pinched my backside.
Trying to keep my nerve, I toyed with the scrunchie in my hair .
“Well, how does this work, exactly. Do I go to them? Do they come to me?”
Had I really just asked that? Was I really going to go through with this? Hell I didn’t know what to do. I had never been with more than one guy at a time in my life. What was I going to do with two of them? What would they do to me?
Inhaling deeply, a smile creased Marlon’s face and his eyes danced.
“They were very specific. They…they want to watch you take a bath--and make their move from there.”
I don’t know how I felt at hearing that. They wanted to sit and watch me…bathe? And as far as making their “move” it was anyone’s guess what that meant!
Resting against the island, I had to ask,
“And where will you be while this is happening?”
He cleared his throat a few times.
“The rest of us brothers will be taking Randy out to dinner. Getting him a little liquored up, try to get his mind of his aches and stuff--”
“So, I’m gonna be alone with your brothers?” I glanced up at Marlon, trying to decide if I wanted to slap him again.
“Did you not hear me just say you’re with the two gentlest ones here? I wouldn’t leave you, if I didn’t trust them! I’d never put you in a situation where harm would come to you! You know that!”
Marlon wrapped his arms around me. “And you like Jackie and Tito. I’ve seen how you smile at them and talk to them during our meals…”
Trying to avoid his gaze, I admitted,
“I like everyone here.”
“Well then. No problem.” My mouth was smacked.
Hand resting on the back of my neck, Marlon instructed,
“Run upstairs. Pick out a nightie--something skimpy. I’ll be up in a bit. I’ll personally draw your bath myself.”
Throwing an arm around his neck, I put my mouth to his, before cautioning,
“I’ll do this tonight, but for future reference, I don’t want any more than two of you. Because if six guys appear at my door in the buff, four of you will be playing the old flesh flute by yourselves.”
Crowing so loudly, the door behind us cracked, with Jermaine and Michael peeking in to see what the ruckus was about.
“God damn! Go on! Go on girl! Ha-ha!” Marlon encouraged and gave me a shove towards to the door.
Two Hours Later
“…you better handle than thing with kid gloves! I spent over two grand on it!”
“Man, shut your bitch-ass up! I’m just borrowing it. You acting like I’m about to run and hock it in East L.A or something! I‘m gonna bring it right back!”
“Damn straight! You better bright it right back!”
“Aw, go to Hell!”
As I stood in my closet, trying to select a single nightie from a rack that contained about thirty in every color and fabric imaginable, I caught sight of Marlon Jackson streaking past the open doors, headed towards my bathroom.
He was already dressed for dinner, looking extremely dapper in dark grey slacks with a lilac tee-shirt, trimmed around the collar in thin grey leather piping. The same piping also formed a single diagonal line across the front of the shirt. His shoes, made of dark snakeskin, squeaked as he crossed the room.
A matching blazer was laid out on my bed, waiting to be slipped into.
(Author’s Note: Marlon’s best fashion ensembles, to me, always involved a grey suit. I’ve never seen any man work one better than him!)
In his hand, I caught a glimpse of Randy’s sapphire-encrusted lighter.
Curious as to what Marlon needed a lighter for in the bathroom, I abandoned my search for a nightie, and followed my lover to the open door of the bathroom.
As I looked inside, I felt my breath catch in my throat.
Marlon Jackson had set up something of a paradise within those four walls.
A steaming hot bath had been drawn, thick with bubbles. Sprinkled in the water were the petals of some of the tiger lilies that grew out back.
Soft rock music--I believe it was Hall and Oates--spilled from a portable radio.
And I watched as Marlon flicked the lighter, sparking up about a dozen white candles lining the washbasin. The scent of vanilla was almost overwhelming.
“Marlon…” I felt a bit overwhelmed myself. “You…you’re doing all this, just for your brothers? Not to enjoy for yourself?”
Snapping the lighter closed, and putting it in his pocket, Marlon pursed his lips as he sauntered up to me.
“Tonight--it’s not for me, tonight. But I’m going to do this for you every night, Loni. I‘d like for us to bathe together.”
Bathing with Marlon Jackson…that was a pleasant image.
Taking my hand, he was leading me into the bathroom and up to the basin.
As he pulled my scrunchie from my hair, setting it loose, I questioned,
“Where did you learn to do something like this?”
Opening a drawer, Marlon came up with a clear plastic butterfly clip.
Standing behind me and twisting my hair up , he fastened it in place, before explaining,
“I grew up in a house with three sisters, who always had a fleet of boyfriends running in and out, calling themselves being romantic. I picked up stuff here and there. Especially since two of my sisters are older than me.”
Hugging me from behind, he kissed the nape of my neck.
“Get in the water, start bathing. Put your back to the door. I’m gonna go get Jackie and Tito. And give Randy his lighter back before he strokes out.”
He started to let go of me, and I held him in place.
Eyeing his reflection in the mirror, I said,
“We have a strange relationship, don’t we?”
Those plump lips curled.
“What’s life, but one strange relationship after the next?” Marlon reasoned and slipped his arms from me, heading out the door.
I watched him go, before starting to disrobe.
* * *
I had to hand it to Marlon, the man knew how to draw a bath. It was the perfect temperature for me. Hot but not scalding. And the water came up to my shoulders, so it wasn’t blatant nudity in anyone’s face.
I felt rather luxurious sitting there. It was an odd juxtaposition. To say I was being treated like a princess, when I was going to behave like a whore.
“Loni?”
At the side of the tub, Marlon stood, rolling up the sleeves of his blazer to his elbows.
“You ready, Baby?”
Twisting a sponge in my hands, I felt my head bobbing.
I was really going through with this. Perhaps all that vanilla was clouding my judgment. I had no idea.
Over his shoulder, Marlon called,
“Alright, fellas!”
Behind me, I heard the door to the bathroom creak as it was opened wider, and feet shuffling as Tito and Jackie Jackson entered.
Lowering my head, I was fully aware that the men hovered just inside the room, and could feel their eyes on me. Did it really help to feel shy? With what we were going to end up doing anyway?
“She ain’t gonna bite you--unless you’re into that!” Marlon joked dryly and was waving his siblings over.
Coming closer, Jackie and Tito joined Marlon at the tub.
“Holy shit, Marlon…” Came Jackie’s awed whisper. “This is something else! I knew Loni would look good this way, but damn, she could be in a museum looking that fine!”
“Hell yeah…” Tito agreed, just as quietly. “Feels like I’m in a movie.”
“Loni?” Marlon spoke my name at full volume, and as a knee-jerk reaction, my head came up and focused on him.
Jackie and Tito stood casually, each in a pastel polo and chinos, with dock-siders on their feet, eyes roving all over me, and my bare flesh, although all they could see was my shoulders sticking out the water.
Maybe that was all they needed to see, as saucer-eyed as they were right then.
Dropping to one knee at my side, Marlon’s lips touched mine.
“I’m going now. I’ll see you in the morning, Baby. Have fun.”
As he stood, he waved a finger at his older siblings,
“Be careful with her. Because if she’s unhappy in anyway, we’ll all be some fighting N(bad word)s come sunup.”
Coming forward, Tito started to push Marlon out the door.
“You got nothing to worry about. We ain’t gonna break her. Bye!”
The door was slammed.
“Piggy bastard!” Marlon yelled from the other side.
I was alone.
Alone with Jackie and Tito Jackson.
“You know, Loni…” Jackie was saying as he came to the tub’s side and like Marlon had, knelt, brushing rough fingertips against my damp shoulder. “When me and Tito spoke with Marlon earlier about sitting and watching you bathe, I had no idea it would be like this.” He glanced up at Tito who came to his side and remained standing.
Looking down on me.
Both seemed to be mentally molesting me.
“What’s that word Tito?” Jackie wondered, stroking at his chin, eyes doing their best to see through the bubbles at my bosom.
“I believe it’s ambiance, Bro.” Tito supplied in a calm tone, a brow raised at me.
“Yeah…ambiance. I didn’t know there would be so much of it. Or that it would affect us like it is.” Jackie had a smile on his face I had seen before.
It was the same smile that had decorated Jermaine’s rocky features that first night in his bedroom.
These men were horny right off the bat. Maybe they had been that way before they even darkened the doors of the room.
“You see, Loni…Gorgeous…” Jackie’s knuckles brushed my cheek. “We don’t think we can wait for you to finish your bath…we gotta have you, now.”
“But I--”
“Tito?” Jackie out spoke me, and without so much as a warning, the chubbier of the two Jacksons had stooped and holding me with a powerful grip was lifting me up and out of the water.
“Haven’t even touched her yet and she’s already soaking wet!” He cracked and both men busted up, as Jackie ran to open the door.
As I was carried back to the bedroom, dripping wet as I wasn‘t even given a towel, I saw that a deep plum lace nightie had been laid out on the bed for me, probably by Marlon before his departure.
And I saw that the scrap of fabric was picked up and tossed away by an impatient Jackie.
“Put her down…put her down, Man. Now damn it!!” He demanded, putting his hands to his head as it seemed it was about to pop off his shoulders in his eagerness.
“Slow your fucking roll, Jack! I’m not just gonna dump her on the bed! She‘s a woman, not a sack of potatoes.” Tito snapped and took his own time to place me in the center of the bed delicately.
(Author’s Note: Had the giggles for quite a while, imagining the two oldest male Jacksons in the buff.)
Lying there, the men staring at me greedily--Tito was rubbing after his groin, a bulge being produced--I managed, in a squeak,
“What are you planning to do to me?”
This was all still so very new to me and I had no idea of what exactly this exchange would entail. Would they both jump on me? Take turns, with one watching the other. Anything could happen and my heart was in my throat.
Yet, as nervous as I was, there was a delicious little zing going up and down my spine at the unknown. A part of me was excited.
Untucking his shirt and pulling it off over his head, exposing a toned chest--less than Randy’s, more than Marlon or Jermaine’s, Jackie cackled wildly,
“ A little birdie covered in welts and bruises told me you got a pretty good little mouth attached to you, if you follow my meaning…” Brows were wiggled at me. “Said you blow like a hurricane, Girl.”
I nibbled my bottom lip nervously.
So…they had been talking to Randy! That spotted punk!
I should have known he’d talk. God knew he’d made enough noise with me that morning.
Shirt coming off, Tito was rubbing at his less-defined chest and little Buddha belly.
“You…you want me suck you, both?.”
How I managed to let that sentence come out my mouth was a wonder…since I was considering what was about to go in it.
Again Jackie was cackling.
“No…you’ll just suck me…”
A thumb was jerked back at Tito, who was trying to undo his belt.
“While I was talking to Randy, he was talking to Marlon…”
Getting the belt off and dropping it to the floor, Tito finally said his piece.
“Brother said you smelled and tasted like a cupcake. I’m a big man, I love my food…especially sweets…”
Shoes and socks came off.
And finally, finally…trousers and underwear in the form of boxers fell from the men’s bodies.
To say I was stunned was an understatement.
Where the hell were these Jackson men grown to be so vastly endowed?
Tito and Jackie, just as the other brothers I had been with, were larger than average, and it was very apparent as both men were stone cold erect before me
They had been horny before they’d even come into the room. Probably even as they had asked Marlon to kill some time with me.
After a speech like Tito‘s, I half expected them to take a flying leap into the bed and start pulling me in various directions.
Instead, Jackie and Tito stood, completely naked and spent the next five minutes conversing in hushed tones.
Eyes drifting to me, now and again and faces creasing with smiles…
When the two shook hands and approached the bed to get in, I knew I most likely wasn’t going to be the same whenever they got out.
* * *
“Oh! Oh my God! Stop! Ugh! Please! Aw…”
I pleased breathlessly and weakly, from where I laid, against Jackie Jackson’s chest, my face pressed against his warm throat.
Nestled behind me, Jackie had his hands gripping the undersides of my knees, holding my legs far apart and open for Tito.
Tito…
I tried to look down at him.
Tito Jackson laid on his stomach, half his face masked by my lower portions, head going up and down as he was openly and unabashedly licking after me.
With Jackie holding me, he was free to use one hand to hold my inner folds away and with the other was driving two of his fingers in and out of me, at the same time he was flashing his tongue against my love “button“.
It was incredible that a man who was so reserved and so short on words could use his tongue in such a way! And it was getting to me.
“Ah! Damn, Tito! Stop! Stop, Tito! Please! Please stop!”
“He ain’t gonna stop! He ain’t!” Jackie was hot in my ear. “Marlon told him how you shoot when you’re excited. He wants to see it. I wanna see it too!”
Hands releasing my legs, Jackie cupped my breasts and was tickling at them.
Kissing and sucking at me loudly, causing me to scream--and Jackie to laugh, Tito withdrew his mouth.
I was left lying and slightly quivering as both men climbed from the bed, pulling at their fur adorned attachments.
Standing at the foot of the bed, Jackie was jerking himself, maintaining his ripeness with one hand and with the other, beckoning me.
Off to the side, Tito was licking at his fingertips.
(Author’s Note: Having an out-of-body experience writing this. For real.
Don’t know whether to laugh or cry.)
“Come on…come on Baby. Come get this. You know you want this, cock, Baby.” Jackie muttered and I don’t know what possessed me, but I said,
“Don’t call me ‘Baby’. Only Marlon can call me that!”
The room fell silent, and Jackie stared curiously. Tito, starting to join me in bed, also froze and was gazing on me in wonder.
It lasted about a moment.
Then, positioning himself, Jackie was forcing his brown stiffness past my lips.
“Aaaaah!” His head fell back as he held onto my face, and was pumping his hips back and forth. Sliding himself up and down my throat again and again.
“Fuck! Randy didn’t lie! Randy didn’t lie! You do got a mouth hooked on you! Fuck, Sweetheart…that’s it! That’s it. Deep. Deep! Shit! Suck it hard, Loni! I like to be sucked hard! Aw, gobble me! ”
I twitched as Tito was starting to play between my legs again.
Fingers slipping into me up to his knuckles and being shaken, trying to encourage an orgasm.
I faintly screamed into Jackie’s groin, as he refused to let my face go, and was still thrusting into my face. His crotch smelled of his cologne, which seemed to be a mix of Old Spice, and something like sage.
“She got a tight little pussy going here…don’t know how she keeps it, with all of us ramming her.” Tito started smacking after my “love button” and electrified by the sensation, I abruptly spit Jackie out.
“Don’t do that! Don’t! Tito-NO! NO! NO!” I shrieked and was hugging Jackie’s hips, with him popping his meat against my chin.
“She’s about to come--watch!” Jackie stated the obvious, and intrigued, Tito’s smacks intensified.
“Come on Loni. Come on girl! Come on, bring it home!” Tito encouraged, as Jackie was gripping me and holding me in place as I started to get away from Tito. Escape the feeling starting to wear at me.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
A piercing howl left me and I felt the flood gates open. And start pouring from me.
“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! She’s….gushing!” I heard Tito exclaim before a scream left him.
Staggering into my view, Tito fell to his knees, holding himself as spurts of whiteness began exploding from the tip of his shaft.
“Ah! God damn! I knew as soon as she came, I would! Ah! Yeah! Damn!” He grunted, before rolling over on his side, gasping for air.
I had been distracted by Tito.
I never did see Jackie struggling with himself.
I didn’t see it until it was too late.
A blast of semen struck me point-blank in the face.
“Damn it, Jackie!” I groaned, and was flapping my hands, not even wanting to touch my face.
“Shit…shit…shit…motherfucker…” Was all Jackie said as he continued to milk the last bits of his erotica out onto the bed sheets.
While Tito curled into the fetal position and tried to collect himself, find his reality, Jackie was on his knees, level with me.
With a rub of his hand, he wiped his goo from my face and was kissing me harshly, poking his tongue as far as he could get it into my mouth.
Was he trying to taste himself?
The rest of that night, I spent in Jackie’s room, as my room had pretty much been destroyed by our exchange of lusty bodily fluids.
It had all been so strange, crazy, devoid of any sort of good and common sense. I should have been ashamed.
And I wasn’t it. I felt no shame, no nagging guilt. No anything.
Just the feeling of Jackie as he climbed off into the bed with me, wrapping his arms around my nude figure and pulling me close to his nude one. On top of the covers, not even trying to mask our nakedness.
We were almost proud in it.
A while later, Tito, once he had separated what was up from what was down, joined us in the bed…nestling between them, and humming until we were all lulled into a pleasant, exhaustion-tinged slumber.
I don’t know where Marlon Jackson slept that night.
* * *
A Few Nights Later
Once more, I found myself wearing a groove into the carpet of the upstairs hallway. My mind was clouded with heavy thoughts.
That particular Saturday had been rather eventful.
It had began at about six in the morning, when, as I prepared breakfast, I had intercepted a phone call from the patriarch of my hungry brood, Joseph Jackson. And I knew he was in an uproar because he did not say hello, or good morning to me.
Mr. Jackson simply growled,
“Put those shiftless sorrowful N(bad word)s I call my boys on the wire!”
I had dropped the receiver then, half from shock that anyone would call their offspring such ugly names and ran in search of Marlon. I caught him right at the ocean’s edge, getting ready to wade in for a pre-morning dip.
From there, Marlon sprinted like he was in the Olympics, yelling for everyone to get up! Get up! Get your black asses up!
For the next three hours, Joseph Jackson tied up all six of his sons, via the speakerphone, yelling phrases so foul at them, I trembled whenever I thought of them.
Demanding to know what the hell the hold up was on the score for his musical. He’d already hired all of his principal players and they couldn’t rehearse without a damn score!
Jackie informed his father they had ten songs completed. This did nothing to soothe the savage beast and Joseph roared some more.
Looking at the plain, bleak and drawn faces of the Jacksons, it would seem this wasn’t their first time hearing such vulgar and curse-soaked ranting and I couldn’t help wondering why on earth they would work for their father when it seemed he was such a slave driver to start with.
That he seemed completely ungrateful for the ten songs that had been completed. Ignored all the work talent and dedication it had taken to get those ten songs composed amid the fistfights and arguments the brothers regularly had amongst themselves.
To consider the whole situation it was strange. Mr. Jackson had flown out six grown men, removed them from their lives in New York completely, cut them off to women, or even really cars all for the fact of producing music.
It was a high-class sweatshop with better food.
Standing around the phone, all seven of us were listening at Joseph, Randy with his arms around my hips and Marlon absently playing in my hair.
Listening to the awful yelling and wondering why Joseph wasn’t having a stroke as his blood pressure was surely through the rough and sitting on a cloud.
Eventually, I saw a crack in the veneer as Joseph battered his sons with bitter words of greedy hatred.
Michael, who had been tight-lipped and silent through the whole exchange, suddenly staggered over to the breakfast nook, appearing as battered as Randy by the face, and dropped into a chair, holding his head in his hands.
Though I couldn’t hear him--I couldn’t hear a damn thing other than Mr. Jackson’s thunderous voice--Michael appeared to start crying, as his shoulders began waving up and down.
It had taken some prying, but I got loose from Randy and Marlon taking to Michael’s side. I didn’t quite know what to say or do, or even why Michael Jackson was crying, but I felt an overwhelming need to comfort and console him.
He always seemed to be silently crying out for from time to time, just from a sweep of his eyes or a gesture of his hand or a sigh from his lips.
Noticing I had come to his aid, I was grabbed as Michael threw long arms around my waist, mashing his face into my bosom, wild curls masking his face as he whimpered the same phrase over and over.
“He’s so mean…he’s so mean…he’s so damn mean…”
Joseph Jackson ended his Hitler-like speech warning his boys he’d kick them all out on their flat faces if they didn’t come up with another seven songs and quickly, before slamming the receiver.
The Jacksons had been in a sullen mood the rest of the afternoon and in an act of defiance that would have made their father’s head explode in a shower of sparks, they did NOT make any attempts at writing.
Tito and Jermaine were the only ones in the music room, tuning their guitars. Marlon was in the bathroom, meticulously trimming his mustache with a small razor blade. Jackie napped on the couch in the living room, as Oprah Winfrey interviewed teenagers on crack, Randy lounged on the stairs, reading a dirty magazine and not caring who saw him.
And Michael…
He had gone up to his room as soon as his father hung up and I hadn’t seen him since. He didn’t even come to lunch or dinner.
I was worried about him. There was something more than what anyone else was letting on.
Michael had always been different from his brothers, from what I could see and tell. He had his childish mannerisms. He was so sweet and overly gentle whereas his brothers were bawdy, loud and rowdy. He was shy and quiet, while they were poignantly sexual, and frank about everything.
And that phone call had called it all the more into focus. Highlighted it for me. The other five seemed not to give a damn about their father and it seemed he’d receive the music, when he received the music.
There was no sense of hurry or urgency.
But Michael had crumbled rather quickly. Something didn’t add up.
It just all didn’t add up for me at all.
I had been pacing, contemplating knocking on the door to his room, asking to come in and try to see just what the score was. What was this problem I couldn’t stop from wondering…
“Loni?”
I had been so focused on the door to Michael Jackson’s bedroom and the storm of thoughts in my mind, that I had never noticed the door to my left open up.
Leaning against the doorframe, hands shoved into the pockets of bright yellow sweatpants, that clashed with the burnt orange tank tucked into them was Jermaine.
Stopping a few feet from him, lifted my head slightly, sniffing and regarding him with the brisk coolness that I had given him since his altercation with Marlon on the beach. I hadn’t really cared for his pockmarked ass ever since, and only gave him the barest respect I could manage in an effort to keep my job and keep five sets of fists from assaulting him.
“Yes?”
Not looking directly at me, Jermaine was rubbing at the back of his long neck.
“Could…could I talk to you for a minute? I‘ve been meaning to talk with you for a while.” His voice was soft and light and I hadn’t heard it directed to me in that manner since the night Randy became a human punching bag.
This was the man who had said so many evil things to me, who had pushed me down to the sand like I was subhuman.
I was a bit held back. What could he possibly say to me, that hadn’t been said, in so many swears already?
When I noticed, he was pushing the door open, indicating I join him in his bedroom, I stubbornly shook my head.
Going over to the curving stairs and sitting atop the first one I remarked sharply,
“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to remain upright during this conversation. If you don’t mind.”
Hell, going into the room had been the root of all our problems from the start! I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice!
I shouldn’t have made it once!
Jermaine hesitated a moment, before reluctantly coming over and taking a seat on the step beside me.
Jermaine fell silent for so long, that I had to turn and look at him to see if he ever intended to speak.
There was a deep inhalation and exhalation on his part, and finally…finally he began to speak.
“Loni…I know these few of weeks, we haven’t been on the best of terms…” He started and with an infuriated spark I interrupted,
“You called me a slut! You called me a slut to my face and hit Marlon in his face with a sandwich! Of course we’re not on the best of terms!”
Jermaine paused, a wounded glaze coming to his eyes briefly, before he recovered and turned to me.
I don’t know why, but I allowed him to grip my hands in his rough ones.
“You have to believe me when I say I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted. I know I acted a damn fool for such a long time. The name calling, the refusing to eat, when I know how hard you work in the kitchen to feed all of us. Especially the extra effort you put in to make a Muslim-appropriate dish for me. It’s just that…that…” He struggled for the right words and I more than readily supplied them, only half hearing his attempt at an apology.
“You got jealous. Marlon told me you were wildly jealous--”
“Yes!” A new light and brightness came to Jermaine’s eyes and he gripped my hands tighter, and I winced in pain.
“That fool with lips like airbags is right--I was jealous” Jermaine shook his head.
“How--how can I not be about someone like you Loni? I mean, when I first saw you, even though you looked like you had just leapt off the bus from a cooks’ convention, I saw you were beautiful. You were so nice and polite and sweet. I was instantly attracted to you. Wanted to be near you. That’s why I tagged along to the market with you. I wanted to be with you, away from my brothers…alone.”
Tossing my head, I looked away from him, and saw Jackie passing underneath us, towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, you got me alone alright, Brillo-pad face.” I scoffed thinking of how on my first day I had been so weak to go to bed with this creature.
“I’m sorry for that too…” Jermaine was plying my hands in his in the most irritating way.
“”You’ve got a lot to be sorry for.” I kept my face from his in an attempt to control my temper.
“Then I started hearing talk amongst my brothers. Talk of this ‘deal’ you had made to be a girlfriend to all of them. How Marlon spent the night with you all the time. I…I didn’t want to believe it.”
I hated myself for it, but I glanced back at Jermaine who had his head lowered in grief.
Had… had he really considered me his girlfriend? Had it really disturbed him that much that I was making time with the others and not him. Or was he just self-centered and vain?
“I knew you were out on the beach with Michael that morning, and I went out to talk to you. That’s when I saw you with Marlon, and he was kissing all on you and Michael was just looking, and I…well, I lost it. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I didn’t a lot of things I didn’t mean that day. I guess, I was like you said. Jealous…”
Dropping my hands Jermaine rose and gripped the banister, back to me.
“How could I not be jealous? Upset? When my little brother clicked with the one girl in the house and I didn’t? When I heard that same brother was passing the same girl around like an hors d’oeuvre to the other brothers…I couldn’t take it. It didn’t seem right that you were being forced--”
“I wasn’t forced into anything!” Now I was up and fuming. “Get your facts straight! Marlon and I came to agreement about all of this. I’m not forced into anything I don’t want to do. I’m in a house with six, hot-blooded, virile men. Good looking, attractive men. How can I not want to sample a bit of each before committing to one.”
That was idle talking. Even though I messed around with each of the Jacksons, flirted openly and kissed on them, and was pinched in various places by them, it was largely known I was most tied to Marlon.
For the love of Christ, when I had left the room to start pacing hours ago, Marlon laid in my bed in a pair of mesh thong underwear, head bopping to the sounds of KC and the Sunshine Band. He was still there!
He had even neglected his Channel 13 Asian Invasion movie of the week, to spend time with me.
I preferred Marlon’s company even while I dabbled with his brothers.
And it was nothing more than inflated bravado coming out my mouth.
“I’m only twenty-five Jermaine! I’m not an old lady. Not someone who wants to be thrown in the corner while others live! Marlon guaranteed me a wild story to tell when I got grey hair, and I’ve got a story, by golly! And besides, I’m not married to you. I’m not your wife. I can pick around and play around here as much as I like. Now you got two choices…”
I crossed to the banister Jermaine was bracing against, breathing heavily on.
“One: You can stand here, and aside from Michael, be the only brother isolated from me. And Michael ain’t really isolated. I know he’s shy within an inch of death. He’s free to do like the others. Hug me, kiss me, other things, he tries to flirt sometimes…I kissed his cheek once…” I smiled evilly as I knew I was sticking Jermaine in all the tender places with my talk. He had some nerve to think I was his when he never acted like he had claim to me.
“…or Two: You can get with the program, sweep that jealously that’s eating you alive under the rug somewhere and enjoy what your brothers are enjoying--”
I was promptly and abruptly cut off.
Because there was a tongue in my mouth.
Jermaine was gripping me, holding me against his body. Kissing at me with more passion than he had managed to express that first night.
My breath was taken…I forgot that I was even supposed to be angry with him. The things he’d said. What he’d done.
My mind was a rare blank as he continued to hold me and kiss me for what seemed like an eternity and more.
We he released my lips from his smooth, warm ones, I was clutched to him, Jermaine heaving as he struggled to speak into my ear.
“Loni…you have to know…as mad as I was. As stupid and foolish as I acted…you saw how I was by your side when we all thought Randy had hurt you. I wanted to be by your side. If I wasn’t I would have killed him. Taken a knife to him and gutted him like a fish. I had to be…Loni…oh, Loni…”
Jermaine leaned back, his eyes beady and lusty and fearful all at the same time.
“Loni…I love you!” He nearly cried and was running his hands through my hair. “I love you!”
I don’t believe I ever replied to Jermaine Jackson on that statement I was so bewildered.
What could I say? I didn’t know what to say. How to rebuff him.
Say no…say yes…say anything. It all failed me.
Worlds simply failed me at that moment as Jermaine held me in a way I had only known from Marlon.
In a way that let me know, he didn’t want to let me go.
So I was conflicted.
As badly as he had treated me the last few weeks…I didn’t want to hurt him.
End of Part Four.
Goodness gracious! Jermaine Jackson is in love with Loni O’Malley? The son of the Broadway giant and the little personal chef. But is Loni in love with Jermaine? Or Marlon? Or one of the other Jacksons? And if Jermaine’s love is unrequited, and directed to another just how will he react? Who will be hurt and who will be had, and most importantly, who will be loved?
