Don't get me wrong, I love my mother to death, but she can truly drive me crazy with her bourgeois and elitist ways, a trait my twin sister shares with her wholeheartedly, so it is not surprising that they get along so well. I always feel like the third wheel when I am with them, kinda like that Electric Company song, “Which one of these doesn't belong?”
My mother's favorite pastime is entertaining in her home. My favorite pastime? A mind-blowing orgasm and a good book and I am A-okay. Not my mother; she would not know what to do with herself if she didn't throw a lavish dinner party at least once a month, twice if she really wanted to go all out.
My take on it all? She loves to show off her house and all the expensive things in it. I mean, what's the point of going shopping in Italy, Paris, and Japan if you can’t throw it in the faces of your envious friends and family, right?
Growing up in my house was like being on display. I think Mila and I were more like my mother's dress-up dolls than children. She loved to dress us up and take us out. I had my first pair of Prada shoes when I was five – I didn't know what the hell Prada was, but I was sportin' 'em, like a champ. That was probably the beginning of my shoe fetish. Yes, I believe I owe all that to my mother.
It was around six o'clock when I finally got to my parents’ house. I grew up on the South Side of Chicago in a neighborhood called Hyde Park, but following my high school graduation, my parents packed up and headed south, way south, to an upscale suburb called Olympia Fields.
I arrived early with my regular bottle of Dom Perignon for my mom and a box of Cuban cigars for my dad. I was always underdressed. My casual wear never compared to their “after five” attire.
My mother spotted me coming down the hallway. At 57 years old, she was a vision of beauty and was often compared to Diahann Carroll.
“Oh, hello darlin',” my mother said as she gave me an air peck on the cheek. She then continued to scan me up and down. I was wearing my favorite pair of Via Spiga shoes with a pair of straight leg jeans and a turquoise fitted top; I thought I was looking quite nice, but unfortunately my mother thought differently. “Look at you. Couldn’t you at least put on one thing with sequins?”
“Does underwear count?” I asked, knowing this would rub my mom the wrong way.
“Oh, sweetheart, don't be vulgar,” my mother said.
Mother was very conservative. I often wondered if she and my dad had sex anymore, not to mention if she ever found it in her heart to give him a blowjob.
“Where's Dad?” I asked as I placed the bottle and cigars on the counter, then opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Evian.
“You know your father; he’s up in his study, and who knows if he'll even show his face tonight.”
My father was known as the strong, silent type. He didn't say much, but when he did, it was powerful. I often wondered what he said to get a woman like my mother to even look at him. Then again, as a state Supreme Court justice at age 35, I guess he didn't have to say much at all to hook a woman ten years his junior in search of a financially stable life.
I wasn't in the house for five minutes when I hear, “So Mila tells me you met a man.” My mother looked at me, waiting for confirmation.
I choked on my water. “Did she? What else did Mila say?”
“That he is a lawyer and is in the process of opening up his own practice.”
I was sure my mother had already Googled the brother and knew more about him than I did, but of course she would never admit to being a secondhand stalker.
“Well, it looks like Mila has filled you in very well,” I said.
“Yes, but when were you going to tell me?”
I shifted a little nervously, preparing to blurt out my lie. “Tonight. I was going to tell you tonight, and he was going to come, but he is swamped at work.”
“I see,” Mother said slowly. “How long have you been dating him?”
Although in truth it was closer to a month, that wouldn’t have flown with my mom since she expected to meet any new love interest within the first week of my making his acquaintance, so out popped lie number two: “Oh, just a little over a week.” At least I was consistent with the lies.
“Well, I think that's fabulous,” she said. “I'm glad you found a man with a career this time.”
“What does that mean?” I retorted. I knew where she was taking this and I hated her for it.
“I mean, if you're going to spend some time with someone, why not have it be a man who can financially support you? Dating men without a real job is just a waste.”
“Mom, I don't need a man to support me,” I said, “I have a job, a good one.”
“Yes, I know, but when you have kids you can't work and raise a decent family.”
“Oh, God!” I exclaimed.
“A woman should be at home with her kids. Those first four years are the most important, and you see I didn't work.”
“That was your choice,” I replied. “I like having a career, my own money, my own say.”
That hit home for my mother. She looked away, pretending to straighten the gourmet spice rack. I just couldn’t keep my foot out of my mouth.
“I'm sorry, Mom.”
As usual, my mom acted like nothing had been said. She was good at brushing such situations under the rug. She and Mila definitely had that in common.
“So how is your job going, darlin’?”
I looked at my mom, and felt so sorry for her in that moment. I gave into her rules – we just didn't talk about our problems in this house.
“It's um, going great. Simone and I just landed Bianca as a new client.”
My mother's face turned up as if she had just sucked on a lemon. “Sweetheart, who is Bianca?”
“She’s a singer and songwriter and she's coming out with her own line of jeans, so Simone and I are working on an intense advertising campaign. It's going to be amazing.”
“Well, good, good, I'm happy for you. How is Simone anyway? Did she get my invite?”
“Yes, Mother, she's coming tonight.”
“Fabulous. Oh dear, look at the time; I must go change before the guests arrive. Like I said, your father is in his study, and he would love to see you.”
My mother turned to leave.
I stood in my parents’ obscenely oversized kitchen, with bamboo wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a host of other decorative touches copied from various interior design magazines, and thought to myself that money is great and it’s comforting and it will buy you all the pleasures of life – but unfortunately, it will never buy happiness.
***
The night was nearly over when I found an opportunity to pull Simone away from the crowd over to a secluded corner, hoping no one could hear.
“I knew it; it was those damn shoes!” Simone said as I told her every single detail about my elevator escapade with Todd.
Simone held out her hand for her twenty bucks. “So much for the ‘waiting to get to know him’ thing, so pay up, bitch.”
I playfully slapped Simone’s hand down.
“I don't know what came over me,” I said.
“I do. Dick! It happens to the best of us,” Simone said as she grabbed her glass of wine and raised it in a toast. “Now that's something I will definitely drink to. I wish my husband would fuck me in an elevator. Hell, I wish he'd just fuck me period, and maybe then I would stop having thoughts of smothering his ass with a pillow while he sleeps.”
“So do you think Todd will think I'm a ho?”
“Let's only hope.” Simone grinned.
“Come on Simone, be serious,” I pleaded.
“I am being very serious. Listen, you fucking this man only means you liked him and you weren't afraid to show it, period. More women should learn from you.”
“So you think he'll call me?” I asked, still not totally convinced.
“If he doesn't, then you call him.”
“I can't do that,” I protested.
“Why not?”
“Because I don't want to look like –”
“A ho?” Simone asked.
“Well, yeah.”
“Kai, what is your fixation on looking like a ho? Hell, it’s the 21st century; we are in a sexual revolution. Women are finally accepting the fact that it's okay to get our fuck on and if it's with a younger man, even better. Men have been doing it since the beginning of time, so it's our turn, don't you think? So don't be ashamed if you wanna fuck your man on a first date in the elevator. Be ecstatic and call his ass the next day so you can have part two.”
Simone downed the rest of her wine. “If some frigid bitch has something to say, well, fuck her, too.” Simone slammed her wine glass down on the table. “Simone has spoken.”
“You're crazy, you know that?”
“No, sweetheart. Just horny.”
Simone winked and walked away. I looked to the left, then to the right, making sure I was still in the clear.
Simone was 100% right and I knew it; I just needed to hear her validation to convince myself. I couldn't get Todd out of my mind; I knew I had to see him again for part two, just like Simone said. With that, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed his number.
I am woman. Hear me roar!
CHAPTER 7
WHEN IT’S RIGHT IT’S SOOO RIGHT
Todd knew exactly where to touch me to make my whole existence quiver. My body was still tingling from our morning lovemaking. This day marked our fourth month together – yep, that’s right; Todd had made it through my three-month course and graduated to full-fledged boyfriend, and I couldn’t have been happier.
I stretched, fighting sleep as I looked across my bedroom through the slightly opened bathroom door to see the silhouette of my man's beautiful body as he toweled off from his shower. The sun had yet to rise, but that never stopped Mr. Early Riser from starting his day. Todd was a morning person. I unfortunately was not. In our short time of dating, I never let this small difference stop me from getting some great loving from him.
I turned and looked at the clock – 5:45am. I lay there staring at the ceiling, noticing some cracks and indentations for the very first time. The fan squeaked as it circulated the scent of our morning lovemaking throughout the room. My naked body felt soft as I glided my hand up and down my toned stomach, then up towards my breast. I played with my nipples. I turned to see Todd watching me; his manhood slowly rising as my self-exploration had triggered his willingness for another go-round.
I winked; he smiled as he walked towards me, growing larger with each step. Todd approached the bed and kneeled down. He slowly glided his hands over my calves. He started to suck each of my toes tenderly and passionately. I moaned, he moaned louder. I closed my eyes as the wetness from his mouth covered each toe then inched up my body. My back slowly arched, almost on cue, as he reached my inner thighs. His hands slowly separated my legs for easy access as he slowly outlined my love nest with his tongue, and then headed back down between my thighs. I moaned with excitement and anticipation. Todd then moved back up; this time to explore and taste me before he entered me ever so slowly.
His body was heavy, his manhood firm. We moved in cosmic sync. He pushed deeper inside me but I pulled back, not wanting to cum yet. I wanted to feel the pleasure Todd was giving me a little while longer. He pulled my legs onto his shoulders and went in deeper while he rotated with each thrust.
I tried to talk but my words were no more than low, sensual grunts. Todd kissed my chest, my neck, my lips; he made it a point not to leave any part of my body unexplored, untouched, unloved. I breathed my satisfaction into his mouth; he breathed it back with the same intensity.
Just when I thought it was over, Todd pulled out, flipped me over and entered from behind. I cringed with pleasure.
“Oh, God, baby, you are working me this morning,” I groaned.
“I know you're lovin' it. Say you love it,” Todd demanded.
“You know I do; you know I love it,” I agreed passionately.
Todd began to thrust faster and faster and faster. He slapped my ass; it stung with immense pleasure and the second slap felt even better. With the third slap he pulled out and in seconds we were back face-to-face. We stared into each other's eyes as we communicated our love without words. I felt the sweat drip down my back as my climax approached rapidly.
“Baby, baby, I'm about to cum,” I said.
Todd buried his face in my neck as he thrust harder and harder, faster and faster as he approached his orgasm in 0.5 seconds.
“I'm about to cum,” he shouted.
“Me, me, me tooooooooooooooooooooo!”
We climaxed together, Todd's body collapsing on mine. Our sweat mixed together into one large love spot, right on my 700-thread count sheets.
***
I woke to the sound of the shower. The sun was sneaking through the manufactured holes of my navy blue curtains, leaving a striped pattern on the honey-apple hardwood floor. I turned to see the clock, which displayed 7am. I took a deep breath as I began to plan my day in my head.
The shower turned off and Todd opened the door, steam escaping as if running for freedom. He began to lotion his body, calves, thighs, stomach, back and face.
My mouth was dry. I reached for the half-full bottle of water that lay near my nightstand. I drank the rest and laid it back down. I looked up to see Todd in all his nakedness. He stared at me, then at the bottle. He smiled; I smiled back.
“You're just going to leave that right there, aren't you?”
I looked back down to see the water bottle on the floor. “Nope, I'm going to throw it away,” I said.
“Uh-huh,” Todd replied, “just like the others.”
My eyes glided over the floor. Three more water bottles.
“Well, at least they’re in a neat row,” I said with a childish grin.
Todd shook his head as he walked towards me; his body was muscular and cut to perfection. Todd had the type of body that didn’t need the gym 24/7; he was naturally fit and I loved every inch of it.
Todd sat on the edge of the bed as he opened the drawer and took out his underwear and a pair of black socks.
“So what do you have planned for today?” I asked as I rubbed his smooth, baby-soft back.
“My contractor is coming over to inspect my office, remember?” he said. “I need to add a conference room upstairs.”
I stretched and yawned. “Oh, right,” I said.
For eight months Todd had been working toward getting his own practice. His dream was about to become a reality. The one thing that I loved about Todd, is when he put his mind to something, he didn’t stop until his goal was reached. From time to time he would add me to his list of accomplishments, but quiet as I kept, I was determined to make him mine the moment I laid eyes on him. I had to let him think he wore me down.
“What are you doing for lunch today?” Todd asked me as he slid on his faded paper-cloth jeans.
“Simone and I have a meeting with a potential new client. We're trying to add two more to our roster. Why, what's up?”
“Alana wants to have lunch and I want you to meet her.”
I sat up upon hearing the name of another woman.
“Who?”
“Alana, my old roommate from college.”
“The model?” I asked, knowing the answer but needing confirmation.
“Well, not anymore, since she had her daughter, but she's working at getting back into it; I'm sure.”
Todd turned and grabbed a white T-shirt from the second drawer – his designated drawer at my house. I have the third and fifth drawer in his dresser as well as a section in his closet.
What can I say? I love to shop.
“So you're having lunch with her?” I asked.
“Yes, baby, and I want you to come with,” Todd said as he grabbed a bigger T-shirt and pulled it over the white one.
“Well, I can't, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep the tinge of jealousy out of my voice. “I told you I h
ave a meeting. Why can't I meet her another day?”
“Because she's only going to be in Chicago for a few days.”
“Okay, well, when is she coming back?” I asked, not really caring but trying to keep the conversation flowing.
“She'll be back for the opening of my practice, so I guess you guys can meet then,” Todd said as he gave me a look.
“That's next month?” I stated as a question, although I knew the exact date and location.
“Don't act like you don't remember,” Todd said.
Todd sat back down on the bed and looked me dead in my sleepy eyes.
“Baby, Alana is my best friend, nothing more, okay? Besides, she is looking forward to meeting you.”
“Is that so? Well then, I am looking forward to meeting her, too.”
“No, you're not, but it's okay,” said Todd. “Once you meet her you'll love her.”
“Love is a strong word,” I replied.
Todd kissed me softly on the lips. “That it is, so be careful how you throw it around.” He winked, stood and said, “I gotta run, so I'll call you later. If you change your mind, we're meeting at Butter at 1pm.”
“Where is that again?”
“It’s on South Green between Adam and Monroe.”
“Got it,” I said as I sat up, preparing to make my transition to the shower.
“Bye, baby.” Todd blew me a kiss and headed out the door.
I lay back down, staring at the ceiling again. I wondered if those cracks were there when I moved in this place. I wondered if Alana was as gorgeous as I feared.
CHAPTER 8
INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW
Our advertising campaign was coming along wonderfully. Simone and I were steadily putting together a series of commercials, print ads, and billboards.
Simone's office was filled with every type of Jean and T-shirt that Bianca was coming out with. We knew this was going to be our ticket to the top, so we put our blood, sweat and tears into it.