'I didn't see anything either. I was in there crying,' I said, gesturing towards the bathroom as I spoke.
Cynthia was still crying, but the other guests had begun to leave. I saw that in a few moments we would be the only people there. I wasn't sure if we should stay. I felt guilty; after all, we had brought Susan and Susan had been at least partly responsible for this. I figured Cynthia would be angry at us or at least anxious for us to go.
I started to get my purse and leave, but Cynthia stopped me. 'No, you two stay, please,' she asked.
Her request surprised me, but Mike and I stayed. It was the least we could do. After all, without us, this never would have happened.
When everyone else had left, we talked it all over and tried to figure out where they had gone. Cynthia was as bewildered as we were.
'I don't know what got into him. He likes white people and he hates them, all at the same time. When he saw that young chick, it all boiled up out of him, all that hate and resentment. I don't think he would have gone as far as he did – he's not that mean a dude – but she seemed to like it so much. Oh, shit. I just want him back,' said sadly.
'What did he tell you earlier, when you walked over to him all angry and everything and he whispered something in your ear?' Mike asked.
'He told me to shut my fucking mouth or he'd slam his foot through it as soon as everyone left,' Cynthia told us. 'He can be pretty mean,' she added.
'I hope he doesn't beat up Susan,' I said. I was worried, but not too worried. I was sure that Jimmy wasn't insane, just resentful of whites and a little irrational. I didn't think he would hurt Susan badly, especially if she did as he asked and, so far, she had done just that. I did hope, however, as Cynthia hoped, that we would get her back.
The three of us sat down to wait. It was a funereal atmosphere.
We must have been an incongruous sight. Three people sitting there unhappily, fidgeting nervously, while two of us were still completely naked. I had never undressed at this party. I had been too caught up in what Jimmy had been doing to Susan. Cynthia and Mike, however, had taken their clothes off, Cynthia before she realized exactly what her husband was doing with Susan, and Mike after he realized what was going on and had decided to try to forget it.
So we sat there through most of the night, hoping, waiting, wishing that they would return. By three in the morning we had lost hope, but some stubbornness that we began to think was mere wishful thinking led us to stay, awake and waiting.
I couldn't help imagining vividly Jimmy fucking Susan again and again until her sweet soft pussy was as raw and bleeding as her ravaged asshole. I wondered if Jimmy would know when to stop or whether, away from the crowd, he would punish her unmercifully and perhaps do permanent damage to her.
I shouldn't have worried. About four a.m. we heard voices outside, then footsteps on the front walk and the door opening. We ran into the front hall.
It was Jimmy and Susan. Jimmy looked embarrassed. He must have fucked away all his hostility, I decided. Susan didn't look embarrassed at all. Nor did she look injured. I wondered if she had enjoyed Jimmy's punishing attacks as much as earlier or whether he had been gentler with her.
Mike and I didn't know what to say, so we didn't say anything. Cynthia didn't know what to say either, so she didn't speak, but she did act. She must have been afraid of Jimmy because she ignored him. Instead, she walked right up to Susan and looked her straight in the eye.
'You mother-fucking honky bitch!' she yelled, after staring wordlessly at Susan for a few uncomfortable seconds. 'How dare you run off with my husband!' she added, still screaming.
Susan didn't know what to say, so she tried her innocent smile. 'We were only gone for six hours,' she said softly. 'I didn't run away with him. We just left for a while,' she said.
I don't know what effect Susan expected that lame explanation to have, but I think what happened next surprised her. Cynthia drew her hand back and slapped Susan hard across the face. Susan stood there as if in shock while her face reddened, the marks clearly visible where Cynthia's hand had hit her.
I knew this wasn't black hostility against white America. It was a woman fighting another woman who had taken her man. Cynthia had Jimmy back, but she was going to make Susan pay for what she had done. Cynthia knew she couldn't hit Jimmy, so I think she gave Susan some extra punishment to make up for what she wanted to give to her husband.
She slapped Susan again, even harder this time. Susan stood there for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes, a small bruise raising itself on her cheek. Then she slapped Cynthia back, as hard as she could, rocking Cynthia's head back.
'I didn't take him away – he wanted to go. Why don't you hit him?' she asked.
Susan's slap had infuriated Cynthia. She reached out and tried to scratch Susan's eyes with her long fingernails. Susan grabbed her arms and they started wrestling. They fell to the floor with Cynthia on top.
Cynthia reached down and ripped at Susan's dress, tearing it in shreds. She scratched at Susan's now naked flesh, leaving long, ugly-looking red furrows as her nails raked Susan's white skin. Then she reached down to Susan's tits and pinched the nipples hard.
Cynthia was too strong for Susan. She held Susan still while she made her suffer for what she had done. Cynthia went too far, however. She kept squeezing Susan's nipples and the terrible pain gave Susan a burst of adrenaline-induced strength. She reared up off the ground and threw Cynthia off her.
They faced each other like two wary she-cats, circling, eyeing each other. Cynthia had tired herself with the exertion of keeping Susan pinned to the floor while she scratched and pinched her. The pain she suffered had given Susan sudden energy. They were close to evenly matched now.
They moved together, grappling with each other. They hit the floor and rolled, first one on top, then the other. The shreds of Susan's dress had fallen away. They were both naked now, a black body and a white body locked together in what appeared to be a struggle to the death.
Their desire to kill each other wore off as quickly as it had come. As they tired, as it became apparent neither would be able to achieve any real advantage over the other, their struggle became more sporadic. Finally, they separated and lay on the floor, naked and exhausted, only a few inches apart.
At first, I had been worried and anxious watching them fight. I didn't want anyone to get hurt and I wasn't sure that Susan could handle herself. Then, when I saw that the struggle was a fairly equal one, at least in its latter stages, I began to enjoy watching it.
I felt ashamed of myself for finding the sight so erotic. The battle should have dampened all of my sexual desires, but it excited them. The two women were so beautiful. Cynthia's tawny beauty and Susan's voluptuous softness locked together, whether in lovemaking or fighting, had to be one of the most arousing sights I had ever seen! I'm not a fighter, but I wished that I could join them; the pain of fighting would have been worth the pleasure of feeling those two lovely bodies around mine.
The girls lay there motionless for a while. Then Susan stirred first. Her hand reached out and moved into Cynthia's bushy Afro. I felt sure that she would pull Cynthia's hair, try to tear it out of her head. Susan's next move surprised me. She tugged very gently at Cynthia's kinky hair, as if she wanted to pull Cynthia closer to her. I expected Cynthia to resist or to start fighting again, but she didn't. Instead, she moved closer to Susan and laid her head on Susan's thigh. Close together like that, they went to sleep, their violence, as well as their energy, purged from their systems.
Mike, Jimmy, and I watched for a while. Then I nudged Susan, trying to awaken her.
'Susan, we're home,' I told her. I couldn't wait to tell her in the privacy of the car that I had learned my lesson. I was sure that Mike had learned, too, that jealousy was counterproductive and could only destroy good relationships.
It was too late. 'I'm not going home with you,' Susan said sleepily. Then she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
I awakened her again.
'Look Lori. Fuck off. I told you and Mike and I couldn't stand jealousy. You got more and more jealous. So you blew it. I'm not living with you any longer. I'll come pick up my things tomorrow.'
I was crushed. I started crying and pleading with her, but she closed her eyes and, as if I weren't there, went back to sleep.
