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Image for the poem When Will I See You Again...

When Will I See You Again...

740 Park Avenue
Manhattan, New York  
Tristano’s Penthouse
Artesia grabbed the bag of Chinese Food and her purse from off the passenger seat. She unsnapped her seatbelt, opened the door, and got out her vehicle. She pushed the door close and walked over to the underground garage elevators. She recalled Mrs. Giordano’s departing words.  
I do not care for your morals, but I will say, if you ever need anything while you are in Hawaii, call me.’  
Tristano downed his eighth glass of whiskey. He threw the glass against the concrete wall.  
Artesia switched the bag of food and her purse to the other hand. She inserted the key-card into the portal, withdrew it, and turned the door handle. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered Tristano’s penthouse. She pushed the door close with a bump of her back.  
Tristano walked off the terrace.  
Artesia turned around. Her eyes clashed into Tristano’s eyes. She held up the bag of food.  
“I thought you may be hungry.”  
Tristano walked up to Artesia and snatched the bag, the key-card, and her purse from out her hand. He threw the items across the room.  
“I don’t want any fucking food!”  
He grabbed her around upper arm and hustled her into the living-room; he pushed her down on the couch.  
“You are going to...”  
“Tristano I...”  
“Silence damn you!”  
“This was not a good idea.”  
Artesia stood.  
Tristano pushed Artesia back down on the couch by her forehead. He leaned over her presence.  
“You are going to explain to me, what happen from the last time, we made love, and how you ended up sleeping with Lionello, my fucking client, and according to my cousin, Carmina, who was just here. The woman confessed she and you fucked.”  
Artesia shrieked away.  
“I’m sorry...”  
“Fuck your sorry. You are nothing but a pathetic little whore, as I once thought! You are the kind of woman, who climbs into one man’s bed after the other.”  
“I don’t have to take this.”  
Artesia stood.  
Tristano pushed Artesia back down.  
“Dammit sit! Or the next time you stand. You may land on the fucking floor. Tell me, did Michael or Lionello pay you for sex!”  
“I am not a whore.”  
“Bullshit! No decent woman sleeps with men, and allows a woman to…eat, no dammit lick her pussy. After tonight, you will reap what the fuck you sow!”  
Tristano looked down at Artesia’s finger.  
“Where the fuck is the ring, I gave you!”  
“At…at home.”  
Artesia glimpsed anger and hurt in Tristano’s eyes.  
“You want to be a whore, okay; I’ll play by your rules.”  
Tristano stood Artesia up. He pulled her by a fistful of her hair and tugged her into his chest.  
“You like it when a man takes you, huh? Worships your body, nutt inside that tight pussy of yours!”  
With one hand, he ripped off her dress.  
“No Tristano stop it, you…you you’re frightening me.”  
Tristano pulled Artesia’s body into his chest and brutally kissed her lips; he went in between her thighs and jammed his finger inside her pussy.  
“Stop it…, stop it!”  
Artesia tried to fight back.  
“Is this how you like it, rough!”  
“Tristano no, I’m sor…”  
He kissed her, biting her lips in anger.  
Artesia tasted the blood in her mouth.  
Tristano barred Artesia to his chest with one arm across her upper back. With his other free hand, his finger probed farther inside her pussy. He withdrew it, and then pushed her down on the couch. He opened his robe and got on top of her.  
“You like men to lose themselves inside your pussy. My pussy, which you gave away so fucking freely!”  
“Tristano... I..., please…please...please forgive me, I only want you, and…and now I see that.”  
“You lying whore!”  
Tristano drew his hand back he suspended it in mid-air. He never hit a woman, and she will not be the one to make him begin. He roughly shoved his dick inside Artesia’s pussy. He imprisoned her arms above her head.  
“Is this how you want a man to treat you! Answer me dammit!  
“ get up,” Artesia screamed.  
Tristano viciously rammed his dick inside Artesia’s pussy without any emotions or disregards.  
“Get up, you’re hurting ….”  
Tristano leaned down and kissed Artesia’s lips, masking her protests. He bit her tongue in the process while slamming his groin into her pelvis. He inched his face back.  
“Is this how you want me to treat you? Answer me, you fuckin bitch!”  
“I swear you could trust me now.”  
“Your words don’t mean shit to me; fuck you, and your damn lies.”  
He stretched her arms even farther above her head.  
“You let my cousin fuck you!”  
“I don’t want to hear it; I should have fucked you, and then left your trifling ass in that run-down motel.”  
“I’m so so sorry…Tristano, please believe me.”  
“Fuck you! Did my cousin eat your pussy, did his tongue make you climax; something I thought was my enjoyment alone!”  
He nipped at a breast nipple with the edge of his teeth; he suckled it before, gently massaging it between his teeth. He grouped both of her wrists tighter and reached down. He inserted two fingers inside her womanhood, which joined the space of his dick. He poked the three lengths as far as they would venture.  
“Since you are nothing but a cheap whore.”  
Tristano yanked his dick and his two fingers out Artesia’s pussy. He flipped her over.  
“Wait...what…what are you doing.”  
“Treating you like one.”  
Tristano pushed Artesia’s head down and held it against the couch cushion by the back of her neck; he speared his dick inside her rectum and persistently stabbed it inside, taking it back out, and reinserting it inside her repetitively.  
Tristano pushed Artesia’s head deeper into the couch cushion, muffling her objections.  
“I…I hate you; you bitch. You took something from me I could never get back.”  
He slapped a buttock hard.    
“Dammit, did my cousin fuck you in your ass; huh!”  
He leaned down and suckled her back, the results, a reddish circular mark to her upper shoulder blade.  
“Did you suck his dick? Swallow his cum. Dammit answer me bitch!”  
Tristano withdrew his dick to the tip and crashed it brutally back inside her rectum.  
“Did he ejaculate inside you over and over again!”  
He pushed her head deeper into the couch cushion. He slapped the other buttock harder, while crashing his dick inside.  
“Fuck you, fuck you…you…you… bit…bitch!”  
Tristano bobbed his head back and ejaculated inside of her.  
“Oh, you fuckin whore…we’re done... we’re done, oh God help me, you fuckin bitch.”  
His entire body vibrated.  
Tristano quickly withdrew his dick and rose from off the couch.  
Artesia squeezed her rectum at the violent entry.  
Tristano lifted Artesia off the couch by the back of her neck. He squeezed it until she coughed. He marched her forward.  
“You’re hurting me..., my clothes, my purse…wait, my car keys.”  
“Fuck you!”  
“How am I…?”  
Tristano applied more pressure to Artesia’s neck.  
Artesia violently coughed, suspending her sentence.  
“Take the subway bitch! Maybe a group of men would take advantage of that tight pussy. Oh, I forgot, it may be something you actually enjoy!”  
Tristano walked Artesia to the door, opened it, and shoved her out his residence.    
Artesia turned around to face Tristano.  
Tristano looked at Artesia’s nudity.  
The imprint of his fingers marred the skin around her neck.  
“I would pay you, but the shit was not that good.”  
“Wait my…  
Tristano slammed the door in Artesia’s face.  
Tristano turned over and reached out. He opened one eye and scooted sideways. He subconsciously reached out.  
“Artesia…my head won’t stop spinning.”  
The glare of the sun streaming through the bedroom glass panoramic windows beamed in his eyes.  
Tristano closed his eyes to the blinding sunrays.  He looked around his bedroom.  
The finished bottle of Jack Daniels on his bedside nightstand, made him queasy.  
His telephone rang.  
Tristano lifted his head from off the pillow.  
His bedroom was spinning like a wheel on an axle.  
Tristano’s head hit the pillow.  
“Dammit Artesia…, get...get in here, I feel sick.”  
The telephone ringing finally stopped.  
Tristano rolled over and attempted to sit up. He held his head and stood. He swayed and fell back on the bed. He sat for a minute, and then slowly rose again. He held the wall for support and made it over to the door. He walked out the bedroom.  
His foot stepped on something mushy.  
Tristano looked down. Why were two containers of noodles, several egg rolls, chopsticks, and white rice, sprawled all over his Persian carpet? Damn he was thirsty, and his mouth felt pasty, and where the fuck was Artesia?  
She was here last night, wasn’t she?  
Tristano wobbled into the kitchen, turned, and walked back out. He noticed Artesia’s purse and all the contents that was inside, sprawled over his floor near the fireplace. He made it over to the couch; he leaned over and balanced his palms on the back of it for support. He looked down at the pieces of shredded clothing on his carpet. He straightened his posture.  
“What the fuck.”  
Tristano looked around his living room. He closed his eyes and remembered his combative encounter with Artesia.  
“Oh shit…shit…shit.”  
His heart began to beat fast. He looked down at the couch. “Fuck…what.”    
He remembered he threw Artesia out his residence without any clothing, her purse, or even her car keys.  
His telephone rang. He slowly moved to his bedroom. He walked around his bed and lifted the telephone receiver. He placed it upside down to his ear.  
“I’m sorry Arte…”  
He repositioned the telephone receiver on his ear.  
“Hello Artesia...I”  
 Financial District  
 Manhattan, New York

“Son, I’ve called an emergency meeting this morning.”  
“Father, I’m smashed.”  
“I don’t know what’s going around, but your mother returned home last night, intoxicated also.”  
“Mother? The woman barely sips champagne.”  
“She did not want to talk about it. Listen son, I need you here pronto, it’s about time this firm’s president takes responsibility for his criminal activities.”  
Tristano closed his eyes. He held his stomach, and then reopened his eyes.  
“Have you contacted our entire Business Department Heads, which we have, accounts with?”  
“Yes, that meeting will follow the Board of Directors meeting.”  
“I need to make a couple of calls, and I will be there within the hour.”  
“I’ll expect you then.”  
Tristano hung up the telephone. He sat on the bed and placed his forehead between his palms. He slicked his hand back through his hair. He looked down. His groin hairs had speckles of dried blood in them.    
The memories of him maliciously pumping his dick into Artesia’s tight rectum, minus an emotional state of mind, hurt him.  
Tristano held his mouth, rose from the bed, and ran into the bathroom.  
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Author's Note
Well now... it’s about time I bring my bad boys into the light. Some chapters out of my novels...

#BadBoys....5 of 5
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