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left her mouth& BANG! A shot cut through the air.
Oh my God! she shrieked.
Denim and Amare crumpled to the floor, a tangled heap
of twisted arms and legs. Neither of them able to understand
how things spiraled out of control so fast. There was blood
everywhere. Somebody wasn t going to make it.
Amare! both women shrieked.
Amare grabbed his chest as blood leaked from the hole
in the center. He looked from Denim to his wife and back
again. He opened his mouth, but he could not muster enough
breath to speak. He moved his lips and mouthed, I m sor-
ry. That was his last movement.
No! his wife screamed. Denim was still trying to move,
but she felt like her leg was broken. You bitch! Amare s
wife shrieked, kicking the gun away from Denim s hand.
She kicked Denim in the stomach and then the chin.
Denim cried out in pain.
Bedroom Chronicles
Amare s wife continued her brutal assault until she heard
the police racing up her sidewalk and yelling for her to stop.
Somebody on the block had to have called in the fired shot.
- § -
Today on Oprah, Denim Nelson. The wealthy heiress
of the Briggs-Nelson empire who was convicted of killing
her former lover, Amare, speaks candidly to Oprah live via
satellite from the Bedford Hills Women s Prison about how
obsession led her to murder.
Denim stared into the satellite television screen and lis-
tened to Oprah s questions.
What could possibly make a woman who has everything
in the world become so obsessed with a man that you d kill
him in cold blood?
Denim was anticipating this question, and she was not
going to keep the secret anymore.
Oprah, having everything means absolutely nothing
when you grow up being abused. Money can t take away
the nights that your own father crept into your bedroom and
had sex with you at the age of ten. It also can t fix no one
ever hearing you scream because your home was so huge
and your bedroom was so far from others. Having every
material thing couldn t cure the hurt I felt when I told my
mother and she slapped me because she didn t believe me.
My family s name couldn t erase the shame I felt that my
own father ignited a sexual desire in me that was so strong I
had to have a man in my bedroom for sex every single day.
And when I didn t have a man, I masturbated three times
a day. See, Oprah, I became obsessed with a man who I
thought finally loved me. But he didn t love me, I was in
love with him because after all the years of harboring a dif-
ferent kind of obsession, one that would cure my sexual
AMALEKA MCCALL
desires, and make them go away for at least a day, he had
finally done that for me. I no longer had to wonder what be-
ing satisfied was because of him. He fixed that part of my
obsession, she said, finally letting go of the pain.
The People
vs.CelesteWilliams
ANNA J
It wasn t a crime of passion, Your Honor, my ruggedly
handsome attorney spoke with a deep baritone voice as he
pleaded my case. I should have been paying more attention
to the goings-on during the trial, but watching him work the
courtroom proved to be a bit of a distraction. I could feel my
clit pulsate between my tightly closed legs as I fantasized
about him working me around my bedroom.
Charles Anthony Hawthorne, III was a tall glass of
chocolate milk. He stood about six feet five inches tall, and
he was muscular. He had smooth dark skin that emanated
a slight glow. Probably from his bright white smile and
gorgeous brown eyes. His stance commanded attention.
I was sure any woman would ve delighted in giving him
whatever he wanted. As I watched the few female jurors
facial expressions, it was evident that they, too, were
having the same thoughts as I. I just wanted a small taste of
Philadelphia s most powerful relationship attorney. He was
single, and I wondered why no one had snagged him yet.
I will present several pieces of evidence that I have
ANNA J
already shared with the prosecutor, as well as witnesses, that
will attest to both my client s character and the wonderful
relationship she had with her late husband, Byron Williams.
By the end of this trial, you will agree that my client, Celeste
Williams, loved and adored her husband and would never
have purposely tried to hurt him.
The male jurors faces said they couldn t wait to put
me behind bars. The female jurors, however, weren t that
concerned with me. Their faces said they would readily
agree to an orgy with Charles if it meant speeding up this
case. He reminded me of the type of man a woman didn t
mind sharing because there was too much of him for one
person. Although I missed my husband, I couldn t help
picturing Charles naked, more often than not. If he had any
bodily features remotely similar to what I d imagined, he
would be a keeper for real.
Just in case you re wondering, I didn t kill my husband&
on purpose. Byron and I had a wonderful relationship and
ten year marriage. We were one of those rare couples, who,
on any given night, would go outside at three in the morning
and make love by the pool. Because he knew how much I
loved receiving cunnilingus, he wouldn t hesitate to prop
my ass up on top of a pillow and feast for days. He had this
technique where he would part the lips of my vagina with
his tongue, then suckle the hood of my clit before licking his
way back down to the opening of my honey pot. Once there,
he would tongue fuck me until I screamed out in ecstasy.
He loved when I spread my legs and held my lips open for
him so that he could use one hand to finger my pussy while
fingers from his other hand were in my asshole. His neatly
groomed goatee would soak up all the juices I squirted, and
his tongue would never leave my clit, even if I pleaded with
him to stop. He liked me to beg, and I liked it just as much.
I met my husband at a military ball I d been invited to
Bedroom Chronicles
by a close friend. Her husband was in the Navy, and every
year there was a ball honoring those who went above and
beyond their call of duty while they protected and served
our country. At first, I wanted nothing to do with any of
those boat boys because they had reputations of whorish
dogs, and many were suspected of having side families in
other countries and faithful wives right here in the United
States.
Come on, girl. It ll be fun. And, besides all that, what
are you doing tonight? School is out for the summer, so let s
enjoy it before the semester starts back up. John would love
for you to go, Leslie, my best bud of over twenty years,
spoke into the phone, trying hard to convince me to join
her and her husband that evening. We were both nursing
students, and had both opted to take off for the summer
and enjoy ourselves since the past semesters had been so
intense.
She had mentioned the ball to me months before, and I
had gone out and bought something sexy to wear for the
event. But I never confirmed that I would actually go. I
didn t feel like being a third wheel& again. Not that Leslie
and John ever made me feel like an outsider. If anything,
jokingly, it would be as if John had two dates. At one point,
we d all entertained having a threesome, but none of us
wanted to risk destroying our friendship so we never went
through with it. I guessed it would been fun& going to the
ball. The only plans I had for that evening were painting my
toes and giving myself a mud mask while watching reruns
of Martin.
Okay, okay& stop pressuring me, I laughed into the
phone, appeasing my friend and agreeing to go with them.
I glanced at the clock, then rushed Leslie off the phone
so I could get ready. I only had four hours to polish my
toes, do my hair, get my make-up together and slide into
ANNA J
this sexy red number I picked up from S.H.E. Boutique, an
upscale establishment in Old City that specialized in one of
a kind pieces. It could ve been done in less time than that,
but I didn t want to rush. I wanted to take my time. I had
also purchased the sexiest pair of ostrich feather stilettos
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