by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow
But as hard as I tried, one thing I couldn’t deny was that dancing made me horny. When I mentioned it to Belinda, she laughed and said, “Well, it won’t for long, ’cause it’s all in a day’s work.”
I wasn’t so sure.
Week Four
“Maxine, telephone. Can’t you hear that thing ringing?”
I reached down to the floor and answered the house phone.
“Max, where you been? I’ve been calling you all night.”
“Lynn, I’m sorry. My cell phone was off.”
“Listen, baby. You act like you don’t want to see me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I left you a message last night. I’m over at the Travel Lodge on West Trade. I wanna see you.”
I sat up in bed, trying to gather my thoughts. “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Damn, baby, I wanted to surprise you. What you do, go find a big ole country boy?”
“I’m sorry. Give me an hour or so. I have to run some errands for my mother, and then I’ll be over there.”
“I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Panic set in. If Lynn was planning to stay for the weekend, I was going to have to cancel my trip with Belinda to Atlanta. She’d promised me that this one trip was going to be the highlight of my vacation. However, Lynn’s unexpected arrival in town could change all that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, but I’d been so ensconced with my new adventures that I rarely had time to think about him.
I arrived at the Travel Lodge around three o’clock and found Lynn still lying in bed.
“What time is it? I’m starved,” he groaned, opening the door.
“You want to get something to eat?” I asked, trying not to act disappointed that he’d surprised me with his visit.
“Nope, just you,” he said, pulling me into bed with him.
“How long are you—” I couldn’t get the question out before Lynn had me stretched out on the bed, pulling down my shorts.
“Max, baby, this some sexy red shit you got on,” he said, commenting on the D&G lingerie I was wearing.
“You like, huh?”
“Wait a minute,” he said, moving away from me. “Where’s my blanket?” He kneeled at my feet, staring at the bald spot between my legs.
I sat up against the headboard, trying to quickly think of an explanation.
“Oh, that. Lynn, it’s so hot and sticky down here, that stuff was getting sweaty. Plus I wanted to go swimming, and I couldn’t have that bush sticking out.” I could see he was disappointed, so rather than let him continue what he’d started, I stepped out of my clothes, turned over, and spread my cheeks in his face.
“Now, doesn’t that make it easier?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” he said, excitedly slapping his dick across the cheeks of my ass.
“Wait, I got something for you,” I told him before he could penetrate me.
“Baby, I can’t be waiting.”
But he was glad he did, because I turned around and gave him the best blow job I’d ever given, and that afternoon we stayed in bed for at least two hours making love. I knew it was love because I had an orgasm, a soaking-the-sheets type of orgasm. And while I lay there in the aftershock of the best sex Lynn had ever given me, he gave me another surprise.
“Maxine,” he said, his strong arms squeezing me tight.
“Huh?”
He used his hand to lift my chin. “Look up here so I can see you.”
“Yes.”
“I love you, Maxine.”
“I love you too, Lynn.”
It was the first time we’d spoken those words to each other, and it felt good. I forgot about Belinda and Atlanta and just wanted to go back home with Lynn.
As it turned out, Lynn couldn’t stay for the weekend, so I went with Belinda as planned.
The red carpet was rolled out for Belinda in Atlanta. We stayed at the Swisshotel and were chauffeured to and from everywhere in a black Suburban. We ate at expensive restaurants and shopped at the Lennox Mall. She never told me who was footing the bill, nor did I really care. All I knew is that soon this would all be behind me, so I wanted to enjoy it while I could. Of course, there was dancing at gentlemen’s clubs during the afternoon and private clubs in the evening. And for Belinda there were clients who came to her room late at night. But just like at home, she was up early the next morning, knocking on my door.
Saturday morning while having breakfast, Belinda revealed the real reason we’d come to Atlanta. A very rich client of hers wanted her to shoot a video, and she wanted me to join her by agreeing to dance in the background.
“Belinda, I’m sorry, but there is no way I’m getting involved in a porno. That’s going a little too far.”
“You’re not gonna be the one fucking, you’ll be dancing behind a curtain. I’m the one that’s gonna be doing the real work.”
“It’s still a porn, and you might’ve forgotten that I’m a schoolteacher, but I haven’t, and I damn sure don’t need evidence of what I’ve being doing for the last month.”
“Max, I swear you won’t be able to see your face. Just come with me and see the setup. If there’s even the remote possibility that somebody can see you, we’ll just forget about it.”
“I don’t care what the setup is. I’m not doing it.”
“No even for ten thousand dollars?”
I swallowed hard. “Don’t bullshit me, Belinda.”
“Have I lied yet?”
We traveled to an estate in Buckhead and entered through wrought-iron gates and a fancy security system. She never told me the name of her client, but judging from the platinum and gold records that lined the studio wall, I knew he was an entertainer—a very rich one, if he was paying me ten grand. I could only imagine what he was paying Belinda.
When we walked into the room where the video was to be shot, I was impressed by the fact that it looked like an actual movie set. There was special lighting, cameramen, and every type of camera imaginable. In the middle of it all was a king-size bed dressed in red satin sheets. A sheer red curtain was draped at the head of the bed.
Belinda excused herself to go speak with her client. She returned about thirty minutes later, and I was sure he’d become more than just the person footing this bill by the bounce in her walk.
The director made sure I was comfortable with where I’d be dancing, and he showed me on the monitor how it would be impossible for anybody to make out my identity.
We rehearsed for about an hour, me dancing alone and then with Belinda. The choreographer showed me some additional moves that she wanted me to do to stay in tune with what Belinda would be doing on the bed. By the time we were ready to actually shoot the video, I was tired and ready to get it over with.
When the music came on, I started dancing in my own shrouded red world. I’d seen Belinda naked plenty of times, and I’d seen her dance, but watching her have hard-core sex was an experience I wasn’t prepared for. The sensible side of me wanted to stop dancing and tell them I couldn’t be part of their porn video, but it was that untapped lust deep inside me that won out. I assumed this is what they were hoping for, because the intoxicating smell of their sex and the sounds they made caused a sensation so strong between my legs that the only way to calm it was to stroke my hardened clit. And so there I was, watching, dancing, and bringing myself to an orgasm.
I was embarrassed afterward, but the director kept telling me how pleased he was with my performance. He practically begged me to do a one-woman show. I graciously thanked him and told him I was just on break for the summer.
Back in Charlotte, I prepared myself for the trip back home. I counted up all the money I’d made, over fifteen thousand dollars in one month. I knew that the down payment on my house was going to be a breeze. The night before I left, Belinda and Country Girl took me to dinner at Fucion’s on the Lake, and we made a pact that not o
nly would I return for Labor Day, but I’d come back next summer and we’d take our show on the road.
August
Week One
Philly in August was humid as hell. Heat just seemed to rise from the noisy streets. I was back in the city, and after airing out my apartment, I was glad to be home.
At Country Girl’s suggestion, the first thing I did was get a safe deposit box to store my earnings. There was no way I wanted this money in my bank account.
I contacted my Realtor and began to look at houses. For me it was all about location. What part of the city did I want to live in? I looked at a corner house in the Art Museum area, but there was no garage or off-street parking. My other option was Old City, where the streets were narrow, the houses small, and the prices ridiculous.
When Lynn came off the road that week, I wanted our night to be special, so I fixed him a candlelight dinner. For the first time he freely talked about the brief time he’d spent as a linebacker in the NFL before getting cut. He swore to me that this time he wouldn’t give up, that his trucking business would be fully operational by the spring.
After dinner he wanted to watch a movie, but I told him I had a better show for him to see. I put on some music and began to dance for him. I was only halfway through my routine when I noticed him stroking himself.
“You damn sure getting better. Where’d you learn that shit?”
“Uh, just a little class I’ve been taking.”
He didn’t wait for me to come to him, he came to where I was dancing and pinned me against the wall. He kissed and sucked my breasts until they felt bruised while plunging first one, then two fingers in and out of my wetness.
“Lynn, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want you bad, baby. You looked good up there moving that ass. Now come on over here. I got something special for you.”
He brought me over to the couch, where he had me kneel. When I arched my ass up to meet what I thought would be his dick, instead I was greeted by the wetness of his tongue.
Lynn licked me long and hard, from the top of my clit up through the crack of my ass. My body tensed up, knowing what he wanted. His tongue rolled in and out its entrance in an effort to relax me. I kneeled there, my face buried in the couch, and relaxed my muscles to allow him to enter me. His fingers squeezed my clit to keep my mind off his hard dick opening up the entrance to my tight ass.
“Damn, ohhh Max,” he mumbled, his dick sinking deeper, until he was able to move around easily inside of me. I knew he wouldn’t last long. Fucking me in the ass was more than he could take. I talked to him, asking him if he liked fucking me in the ass.
“Max, please don’t make me cum. Not yet, please.”
With that I pushed my ass out to him, and all I could hear him say was, “Maxine, baby, youuu…taking it real good. I love you.”
It was the first time Lynn wasn’t in a hurry to get back to work. Instead he took an extra day off and we stayed in bed, lying under the air conditioner, eating, watching movies, and making love.
“Max, I don’t know what it is, but you’ve changed, and I like it.”
I panicked somewhat before I answered. “What are you talking about, Lynn?”
“You just seem so damn sexy lately. I can’t get enough of you.”
“Well, I’m not going to stay in bed for the rest of the week. That’s for sure.”
But that’s what we wound up doing. It was amazing that the dancing I’d done in Charlotte had brought out a deeper side not only of my sexuality but of Lynn’s too. So much so that I was sorry to see him get back on the road.
With Lynn finally gone, I had a chance to call and catch up with Belinda.
“Maxie, girl, what’s happening? We miss you down here.”
“Really? Then I guess I’ll have to make a guest appearance in ole Charlotte,” I said jokingly, wondering what I was missing.
“From what I hear, Philly must got the money, ’cause I got a call to come up there.”
“When are you coming?”
“Tomorrow night. I have a car picking me up from the airport, but I want you to meet me at my hotel.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Four Seasons, girl. Where else would the Princess stay? So, you gonna work with me or what?”
“Belinda, no way. Not here in Philly. I might see somebody I know.”
“I doubt it. These are some rich white boys out in the suburbs.”
“Why don’t I just go with you, say as part of your entourage?”
“Oh, all right, scaredy cat.”
I went shopping and bought a red linen dress and red lingerie for the occasion. Just the thought of hanging out with Belinda filled me with anticipation. I found myself dancing around trying on lingerie when my phone rang.
“Country Girl? What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re coming up with Belinda.”
“No. I got some bad news. Belinda was in a car accident.”
“Please tell me she’s…I mean she’s not…”
“No, no, she’s gonna be fine. A bit beat up, and she totaled that damn car.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“As a matter of fact, that’s the other reason I’m calling. Belinda needs you to do that show for her.”
“Country Girl, what are you talking about? I can’t dance in Philly. I can’t take that kind of chance.”
“Max, you got to. These are some real important people. They’re some rich white boys, so nobody’s gonna know you.”
“I don’t know, Country Girl. It’s too risky.”
“Max, I understand, but you’re all Belinda’s got.”
“Well, I guess I could. I mean—”
“Please.”
“All right, Country Girl. I’ll do it, but let me be clear about what I won’t do. I will not sleep with any of these men regardless of the money. Better yet, I don’t even want to be approached about it. Make sure that’s clear to these guys. You hear me.”
When Saturday afternoon came, I tried taking a nap, but I was too excited to sleep. It was almost like the first time all over again. I called Lynn twice to make sure he was staying overnight in Massachusetts. The thought that I could possibly see someone I knew frightened the hell out of me, but I’d given Country Girl my word.
When I’d spoken to Belinda, she’d given me explicit instructions on how to cover my tracks. She suggested I carry my dance clothes in a small suitcase, and that I drive my car to the closest hotel to my destination and then either take a cab or have a car service drive me the rest of the way, but be sure they waited until I finished. I reserved a town car through Ali Baba limousine service and had the driver pick me up at the Adams Mark on City Avenue. To be extra careful, I reserved a room in case I needed someplace to hide out. I’d probably gone overboard with my tactics, but that is part of what excited me.
The driver took me to the address in Radnor, which was just outside Philly. Supposedly the reason I’d been hired was because one of the guests had recently acquired a major company. People in these parts of town didn’t only get dancers for bachelor parties, they hired them for any occasion.
The large home sat behind a wall of trees. The driver pulled into the circular driveway and opened my door. He sensed that I wasn’t an actual guest and told me, if I had any problems, to give him a call on his cell phone, that he’d be waiting in the car.
I could hear music and loud voices coming from the back of the house. I rang the bell and briefly waited until the butler answered the door.
“Good evening, Ms. Maxie. I’ll get Mr. Preston for you.”
“Thank you.”
I sat in the sitting room—that was all it could’ve possibly been—until a tall, thin, forty-something man appeared in the doorway. I assumed he was Mr. Preston.
“Hello, you must be Maxie.”
“Yes, how are you?” I asked, standing up to shake his outstretched hand.
“I’m glad you could make it. Beli
nda told me about her misfortune. However, she didn’t tell me to expect you,” he said, looking me over. “Can I get you anything?”
“Bottled water will do. Would you be gracious enough to provide me with the details of the person you’re honoring?”
“That would be Jeff,” he said, leading me to look out the dining-room window. “He’s the one standing by the bar with the blond hair and khakis.”
The pool held about ten women in bathing suits, and poolside there had to be at least twenty-five white men with a few black men sprinkled in between.
“How old is he?” I asked.
“Jeff is a young man, but nonetheless very wise. He just pulled off a very hostile takeover that made all of us a lot of money. But you wouldn’t want to know about that.”
Did this pompous asshole think I didn’t want to know because I didn’t understand business? If he only knew how good I really was at it! Besides being a math teacher and having a master’s degree, I was a whiz at finances.
“Are you ready to get started?”
“Just show me where I can get changed.”
“Maxie, don’t worry about pleasing anyone else. This night is all for Jeff.”
“In that case, why don’t we have Jeff close to the pool in case he needs to cool off. And another thing—I’ll need something to blindfold him.”
“I like your style, Max,” he said, laughing.
“Excuse me, Mr. Preston, but you do know the rules.”
“Everything was made clear by Belinda.”
Preston motioned to the butler, who carried a tray of bottled water and sliced lemons and limes as he escorted me to my room.
I laid out the three outfits I’d brought with me, looked out to the pool, and thought about what I would wear. I chose a pair of red lace boy-cut, crotchless panties and a red bra that only held my nipples. Then I slid into a pair of ankle-strap stilettos. Yes, I had something for Jeff. I piled my hair on my head and twisted it without pins so it could easily fall to my shoulders when I was ready. Over it I wore my signature red silk robe.
I opened the door, and the butler signaled to Mr. Preston that I was ready. They dimmed the pool lights, my music came on, and I swayed out to the pool on Mr. Preston’s arm as if I were an invited guest. When the music hit just the right beat, I was standing in front of Jeff, where I slid out of my robe. Poor Jeff only had a moment to look because Mr. Preston blindfolded him. I whispered in Jeff’s ear what I wanted to do to him. When he tried to straighten himself up in the chair, I knew I had him.