Purple Lipstick

By Thomas Green

NICHOLAS CHEESEBORO, the best all-around running back in college football, knew nothing about love at first sight until the Saturday night he saw the woman in the purple lipstick coming into his dorm building. He was on his way out and she was coming in for a party with his teammates. He wished he could stay.

 

The pretty young woman, with the full lips lined in dark purple and then filled in with soft lavender, was so attractive that Nicholas completely forgot he was on his way to see his girlfriend.

 

The next time he saw the woman with the purple lipstick, though, she passed out on the floor of his dorm room and she was a nasty mess. Her dress torn, panties off, body violated and the lipstick smeared across her face. His heart ached at the site, and he cursed his high teammates while helping her up.

 

JOVITA MOORE, the sexy woman in purple lipstick, awoke in horror. She clawed her way out of his hands and out of the building. She returned with the police to the scene of the crime. The only face she remembered in that room was that of Nicholas Cheeseboro. Nicholas was arrested and accused of raping her.

 

Nicholas' life as he knew it was over. The college expelled him and his father, who had been his best friend growing up, treated him like a convict. The distaste in his mother's eyes hurt. With his dream of playing football devastated and his family horrified by having raised a rapist, Nicholas was lost.

 

In the coming months, though, true friendships would lead him into a life that was not so bad, and incredibly, into the arms of the woman in the purple lipstick.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Green
• Release date: Aug 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201640330

Book preview

For Thomasina...

Also by Thomas Green, Jr.

Decatur Cab

Change For A Dyme

Larry’s Girls

The Christmas Party

Tabu (with Thomas Green, Sr.)

When it Hurts So Bad

Player No More

Courting Miss Thang

Love’s Home Run

Chapter 1

The first thing Nicholas Cheeseboro noticed about the thick, young lady in the miniskirt was the shiny, two-toned lined purple and lavender lipstick on her full lips.

It was the smile, really, that caught his eye. She had a soft, inviting smile that could light up the woods at night. She gave him a wicked bat of her eyes that had him caught in her web.

Nicholas was on his way out of dorm building seven, which housed the Bronx State University’s stellar football team. He held the door for her, mesmerized by those soft, plump, achingly kissable lips.

Thank you, the purple-lipstick-wearing woman said, her voice was light as a feather and as sexy as her lips.

Nicholas’ mouth went dry. Though only twenty years young, he was a mature, strong man who had never felt helpless at the sight of a fine woman. But just then his knees were weak and he was choked.

She moved in the doorway, and he took a second to check the rest of her body. She was full-figured, with thick legs that could make hungry models take notice.

He was alive enough to take a look at the rest of her body. And he was impressed.

Nicholas, being a breast man, noticed her full endowment bursting out of a soft, sheer, thin and revealing dark purple minidress that did a great job of highlighting those smooth legs. She had meaty thighs that came from more than a handful of hips.

Nicholas watched her behind swish by. It was soft yet seemed firm, touchable, and so attractive that it would make Tiger Woods get into sisters.

Even her feet made Nicholas’ mouth water. The heels she was rocking forced her pretty toes together. She had them painted in a soft violet. Her doe-skinned-colored feet looked pampered and taken care of.

Wow, he muttered quietly, damn near not able to speak.

The enthralling woman had a friend with her. The friend was sexy but not as healthy. She was short and slender with big boobs and a bright smile. She probably got more attention than the honey in the purple lipstick, but she paled in Nicholas’ eyes.

The slimmy was wearing a fitting black dress that would have been nicer if she wasn’t wearing those cheap Chinese slippers with the beads and sequins.

The friend knew who the gentleman was.

What’s up, Nicky, she said as if knowing the gentleman holding the door was special. He is the star running back. Nicky Cheese.

Hi, Nicky Cheese, Purple Lipstick said and offered her hand.

Nicholas took it, and it melted in his. The rest of her can’t be this damn soft, he thought.

Where you going?the slim one asked. We're bringing the party.

She revealed a bag of weed the size of Bill Nunn’s head. Two pounds at least, Nicholas was sure.

Come on and stay. We are going up with your boys.

Oh, I’ll be back.

Come back soon, Purple Lipstick sang.

Oh, no doubt.

He would have stayed and made a point of getting to know a woman who had just hit him that hard in the groin and heart, but Nicholas was on his way out to meet another good-looking woman.

And, shit, he thought, with that much weed they’d be too high to leave before he got back.

Chapter 2

September was dying a colorful, fall death, all around Nicholas as he went down the winding hill to the main entrance of the campus.

The Bronx State University campus didn’t house many scholars, but it had acres of greenery  that looked incredible in the autumn months. Nicholas was sad to see the summer go, but this was his time of the year, when football got serious as the trees in New York turned a beautiful combo of red, brown and gold.

The Bronx State football team was undefeated going into October for the first time in its history. They had beaten Syracuse the past week, another history maker, and the campus had been partying ever since.

It was Friday night now, and the team was supposed to be in bed by 10 in preparation for Fordham University in the morning for a road game that wasn’t really a road game. Both schools were in the borough of the Bronx, separated by less than five miles, walking distance, and unlike Syracuse University up north, Bronx State always beat Fordham.

Nicholas knew he had to be back on the campus by at least nine-thirty to beat bed check. None of his teammates would be asleep by ten, but they damn sure had to be in the dorm.

He checked his watch while waiting for the bus into Harlem. Nicholas was on his way to see the elegant Dahna Baker, so he was cool with letting the party go on without him. It was near six p.m. Nicholas thought he would go get a  home-cooked meal, some ass, and then be back to hear how the orgy went.

Dahna was a little older, a little smarter and, body-wise, was so damn sexy. He thought she was the type of woman he could have brought home and gotten much respect from his parents. Although Dahna had a face like a punch-drunk boxer, she was very attractive from the neck down, and there weren’t many days that went by that she didn’t get asked out. She had hard, sad eyes, worn features and an indented nose. Her light caramel skin brought out her features, yet she still seemed soft and approachable.

She was only twenty-three yet looked and carried herself as if she was in her mid- to late thirties.

Nicholas slept with Dahna less than two hours after he met her on the Number 5 train coming into the Bronx. It was too easy, as a matter of fact. She had played him like a poker chip. She batted her eyes, let him talk to her and let him feel like a man with a woman on his arm.

Dahna was into sex, having fun and making money. She’d say making money should be first on the list, but her sex led to the money, and she didn’t have sex unless having fun was a serious part of it.

That night Nicholas met the chick in the purple lipstick was one of his and Dahna’s pre-planned sexcapades. Her roommates were going out after work and wouldn’t be home before midnight. Her man was busy doing his thing.

Nicholas got there by seven, and they were in her bed, butt naked,  by seven-thirty.

She was cooking, but his kisses got her nice and distracted, and then he put that tongue on her neck, and she was like, Fuck it, we’ll eat after.

Ohmigod, she panted in the aftershocks. Nicholas, oh my God. That was so good.

Nicholas kept on the attack. He took her tiny nipples into his mouth and that started that feeling once more.

I am coming again.

Her sultry groan.

God, the way you do me. Jesus.

Suddenly Dahna sat up in bed, slowly, and said, Listen, take a shower while I finish cooking. I do not want you blaming me for missing curfew.

Fuck that, you know I want some more.

I know that, she smiled, and I know you want to play tomorrow. She slipped on her robe. I know you don’t want to get benched.

He watched her sway away from him and liked the fact she cooked for him, cared about him and was his woman. He took a quick shower, put on his underwear and jeans and joined her.

She was setting their plates on the small dining table next to the plant-cluttered kitchen window. The gate to the fire escape made the window seem cluttered, but the bright lights and the colorful plants brought life to the atmosphere.

Have a seat, she offered.

He did as told.

What you want to drink?

He knew what she usually had in the ‘fridge and asked for some of her roommate’s root beer. I’ll get her another bottle next time I come.

Don’t worry about it. She expects you to drink it. She likes you.

Really?

Really. Dahna popped the top off and set the bottle in front of him.

They ate quietly. Nicholas took note of how Dahna looked at him. She was not the type of person that looked at people unless she was set to say something.

What’s up?

Nothing.

After they ate, she scraped the plates and put them in the sink, she said, Are you going to give me some more before you go?

Of course. Why you ask me that?

I want you to.

She walked slowly into the bedroom, and Nicholas followed. Inside, she closed the door and stood there. Nicholas took charge. He disrobed her and laid her down. He kissed her from head to toe, stopping to lick and suck where she loved to have his tongue venture. On his knees, he pounded into her while holding her ankles. He spread her legs wider and got close. He took her tiny nipples one by one into his mouth and that started that feeling up in her once more.

Yes. Yes, her sultry groan was shaky. I’m coming again. God, the way you do me. Jesus.

A few good, uneven strokes and he was spent. He rolled over beside her and caught his breath. She turned her back to him, gathering one of her thick, soft pillows under her face.

She whispered, I have something I need to tell you.

Her somber tone alerted Nicholas. He moved up on an elbow and rubbed her soft, thin back.

She slid out of his touch and  swung her legs off the bed. She moved to the nightstand and took a tiny box in her hand and put the ring on the same hand she had moments ago used to get him hard.

I’m sorry.

Nicholas sat up. Wait a minute.

I’m engaged.

Shit. And this is how the fuck you tell me?

She sighed, turned her head with eyes closed on tears. I knew you would react like this, but this is how it is.

Yeah, the fuck? Look how you telling me? After we done made love.

She was shaking her head. I have a man, and he proposed, and I don’t want to do this anymore.

Ain’t this some shit? Nicholas got out of the bed. So what the fuck was I?

Exactly, she finally looked at him. It was wrong. That’s why it has got to end now.

You are full of shit. He dressed in disgust. You tell me after you get your last licks.

And I have to tell you it all. You know him, and I am hoping you’d be cool.

Fuck? Who? I know him?

He is on the football team.

Who?

Greg. Gregory Sampson.

What? That nigga? He plopped back onto her bed. Fuck.

She turned her head away. Please don’t hate me?

Nicholas was furious. You ain’t no fucking good. Why you do this shit? You know I have feelings for you, and you get me to fuck you one last time? That shit is foul.

She just sat on the bed and absorbed his anger. It will pass, she thought.

Greg was a better choice for her, he was offering a ring, he was a senior about to graduate and be drafted into pro football. He was about to be paid first, and he asked to marry her first. She had done the right thing, she considered, while Nicholas called her all kinds of bitches. She couldn’t keep this going. She couldn’t keep seeing him on the side. Her man would find out, and instead of one last sweet lay she would get fucked up.

Nicholas will be okay; he’ll get over it. Women like him. She had noticed all the stolen glances he got when they were out together. She also had friends who wanted to ride him once she officially kicked him to the curb.

Dahna had originally planned to keep a piece of Nicholas, a chance for a lay every now and then. Greg was a twenty-second lover. A majority of their encounters had been as sad as their first in the bed. She had broken into a warm sweat as Greg positioned up against her soft, moist entrance. Moments later, before he was halfway inside her, she felt him release. She tried to revive him, couldn’t happen.

But Dahna knew keeping somebody on the side would be risky, especially now that she got that ring. Greg was crazy. He was the kind of guy who was always an angel hair from exploding into serious rage and snapping her neck. But he loved her, she believed, and he was about to be paid lovely.

Then the thought of Nicholas telling Greg in a fit of rage when he got back to the campus erased her comfort. She stood out of the bed and came to where he was tying his fancy sneakers.

Baby, I am sorry. I just didn’t know how or when to tell you. I love you, but I am in love with Greg. He is my man. No way did I want to hurt you. I love you.

Whatever. Dead that shit, he stood. I ain’t trying to hear it.

She grabbed onto him, and in a better acting job than Halle getting fucked for an Oscar, she tearfully said, You have to forgive me, please. I’m sorry. I am so sorry, and I do have love for you.

You got love for me? he said. You a fucking joke. Save that bullshit for Greg.

He pushed her away and bolted out her door, slamming it like he paid rent in the motherfucker.

Chapter 3

Orgy night with women from Club Libra was the brainchild of Alex Harrison. He was the ringleader in many of the wild nights in the football  players’ dormitory.

Once Alex saw Ayesha in that lime green bikini and matching fishnet stockings, he wanted to fuck her. She smiled and told him how much that would cost him. He had enough on him and followed her to the rooms in the back of the club. After he hit it she was glad to tell him about her availability for parties off site-she like guys with long green and short staying power...those kind of guys made for easy money. That was it; he planned the orgy right then and there. Alex was easy for the other guys to follow, the pretty-boy type who was beloved as one of the best college football players in the country. He was Bronx State’s quarterback and captain of the team.

Alex hadn’t been to Club Libra much lately. He was the quarterback, and he didn’t have to pay to see T&A. But when he decided to have a massive orgy he thought of the whores in the Libra.

Ayesha, the slimmy accompanying the chick in the purple lipstick, knew the guys. Alex’s teammates were up in the club deep and often. The football players at Bronx State were known to be into sharing girls like other college boys shared food or toiletries. It was a tradition, and most times they weren’t passing around coeds. It was usually around-the-way girls they secured using their fame and gift of gab.

Alex had gotten head from Ayesha in the club and invited her for a private party. Bring friends. Got Alex’s number, and he invited her to the campus for a party.

It’s going to cost you, she said.

Oh, we got that. And bring some weed.

The one thing Ayesha had plenty of in her life was weed. But friends, she didn’t have many. She did not trust women and believed men were pawns led by their dicks.

Ayesha had a running partner, sexy Sonia who would fuck a fire hydrant for cash, but Sonia was reluctant to give up a Saturday night at the Libra for college boys. She could make damn near ten thousand dollars from the  ballers and gangsters.

Ayesha thought of the chick in the purple lipstick because she had a reputation  for pleasing many men at one time, and she seemed  interested in stripping.

You hoing for nothing? I can get you paid, for real, she told the young freak.

The chick in the purple lipstick didn’t want to be a better whore. She chose to join Ayesha out because she wanted to meet men outside of the projects, different men. And now the chick in the purple lipstick was sitting in a dorm room very much the size of her bedroom back in Patterson projects. This was turning out not to be her type of scene, but it surely beat another night in the house or sitting in a club nursing a drink with no male attention.

But, even with the serious amount of male attention, she and her girl were the only females in the room; the chick in the purple lipstick was having second thoughts about this whole setup.

She thought this was going to be a party, you know, with conversation, meeting cute football players, as a part of the getting high. She should have known better, she pondered too late, when hanging with Ayesha things were bound to get freaky.

Ayesha and Purple Lipstick have known one another all their lives. They grew up in Patterson projects in the Bronx and have gone through elementary, junior high and high school together. But when Ayesha decided to strip, Purple Lipstick couldn’t follow in her footsteps.

Club Libra was a little spot across from the projects with a seemingly abandoned building above it. The Club Libra was not a club, though. It had no dance floor and only a DJ when someone paid for it during a private party. What the club did have was a back room the three owners used for strippers doing more than shaking their asses. Ten dollars got you in the room, tens also got you a serious lap dance, a fifty got you a blowjob and for a C-note you got to fuck a dancer.

The chick in the purple lipstick hung out once in awhile. She was decent, one of those ladies who was a product of her environment and warped friendships.

She liked the escape getting high afforded but wasn’t down with shaking her ass or fucking for a fee. She’d rather have her date pay for the ass the old-fashioned way, spending money on a few meals and movies.

But the men she ran into haven’t been like that. The men she knew wanted the ass with no night out, and not even conversation being a part of the deal.

Purple Lipstick agreed to come and party with college boys because she saw it as an opportunity to meet new, dateable men. Purple Lipstick was lonely and about ready to try something wild and freaky, but she didn’t have the heart or soul to be a stripper. She had been intrigued by Ayesha’s stories of teasing cocks and making lots of dollars. Ayesha was a drama queen who loved the male attention. She was making fat money, and she had no guilt about her rep in the projects.

Conversely, Purple Lipstick had a rep of being a slut, yet she was working in a Kentucky Fried Chicken as an assistant manager. She was bringing home no more than $250 a week.

Through her teen years, a group of guys the girl in the purple lipstick knew as long as she knew Ayesha were forcing her to perform oral sex in the hallway of her building. the guys knew she was alone at night. Her mother worked the late shift, and they would bang on her door until she opened it. Then they would threaten to tell her mother that she enjoyed doing nasty things in her hallway if she did not do it.

So no, this was not a cool scene for the girl in the purple lipstick. She thought she was going to meet a boyfriend on the campus of Bronx State, but instead she was finding out once again there was no love and romance, there was none of that where she was hanging out. All the guys she was meeting, they only wanted sex.

Ayesha plopped down on a bed across from her hangout partner for the night. Giggling, she said, Give me a book or something. We need to get the party going for real.

A thick monster of a guy handed her a textbook.

Thank you, sweetie. She began to clean the branches and seeds from the weed and then gut blunts. She rolled them up obese. As soon as one was made, it was set afire. Quickly, the room was becoming smoky, and the chatter picked up.

Purple Lipstick noticed that some of the guys were whispering, and she felt like they were laughing at her and considering her a lame who came to the party to be a prude.

Yo, give my girl a drink or something? Ayesha demanded. She sitting there all left out and shit. Jovita, what you want?

Hearing her name made the girl in the purple lipstick uneasy, as if roaches had scurried across her back.

A white guy handed her a tan drink with ice cubes. Jovita. Damn you got a nice name.

And big-ass tits, another player barked.

Jovita cut him a glare, and he laughed in her eyes.

She took the drink. What’s this? Jovita frowned.

Rum and coke.

Ayesha snapped, Jovita, girl, loosen up, please. We having fun, that’s all, I mean, damn.

Purple Lipstick stared at her girl. How could she use my real name?

What’s the matter with you, Jovita? Ayesha objected, a blunt in the corner of her mouth. Relax, girl. These boys won’t bite. Unless you want them to.

Yeah. Let’s see those effing tits. It was the same player who said they were big.

Jovita ignored the vulgar talk and took a sip of her drink. She grimaced at the taste of the strong drink. The same guy who gave her the drink dropped a twenty at her feet.

She looked up, and he had a fan of big-head twenties in his hands.

So, how much would it cost to get a look at you without your top on?

I don’t dance, Jovita said.

The guy began to float bills to her pretty lavender toes. Her eyes counted out at least a hundred twenty-dollar bills on the cheap rug, and it was still raining money.

Damn, one of his teammates said, If I was a bitch I’d dance.

You are a bitch, the tit lover threw in.

Everybody was laughing but the chick in the purple lipstick. She didn‘t reply.

The guy dropped a hundred on the bed, then another.

She