“You see her?” King asked, rolling his eyes in the direction of a thin, Indian woman in a colorful sundress.
“Honey near the lifeguard?” Rich responded.
“Actual fact.”
“What about her?”
“You been to Tasty before?”
“Just two. I slid through the one in Manhattan and the one in LA?” Rich thought of the nights he spent at two of the upscale chain of strip clubs. “I don't remember seeing Pocahontas on the stage at neither one of them.”
“You don't strip on stages when you own the club.”
Rich nodded, clearly impressed. “I would've never thought—”
“That's why I see things for what they are and not what they appear to be and never take things on face value.”
“Okay, drop the science, God,” Rich said with a grin. He recognized King's jargon from The Nation of Gods and Earths. For years, King had been a member of the God-centered cultural group, also known as the Five Percenters. But Rich had never taken King's righteous talk seriously, because King was engaged in the street culture that undermined righteousness.
Rich's eyes shifted from the woman to King. “So, besides Pocahontas doing some numbers, tell me something else about her.”
King smiled as he removed a bottle of Grey Goose from a bucket of ice on the small table that separated him from Rich. King pulled the collar on his Polo shirt, revealing the hickey on his dark skin. “She's a beast in the boardroom and the bedroom.”
“So it's business and personal between y'all?”
“Business and fringe benefits. Katiya Patel.”
“Katiya,” Rich repeated her name.
“When I say beast in the bedroom, I'm serious. Couldn't keep her still if she was in cuffs and shackles. You'll probably find out, because her eyes were glued to you like rhinestones on a jean jacket in the eighties.”
Rich watched the slender woman with the sexy strut. Pearls rounded her neck and filled the piercings in her ears.
“Her money is longer than the Casey Anthony trial and she's about her business. But if you're not into arrogance and spontaneous quickies, stick with Zora.”
“You always spoke so highly of Zora, but I don't see her coming home to this mansion or you putting a ring on her finger.”
“’Cause I never hit that.”
“Fuck outta here,” Rich said. “Your personal assistant that travels around with you to Vegas, but you never fucked her?”
“If I was to lay this pipe game on her, it would mess up our business relationship. She's not like Katiya, who's a businesswoman from another company. Zora works too close to me. A love quarrel between us could affect my bottom line.”
“So you never had intentions to bag her?”
“If I had the discipline and desire for just one woman, it would be Zora. She's a good woman and deserves a good man to wake up to every morning, but she keeps running into brothers like me that's gone before the sun comes up.” King took a swig of the Vodka. “Zora's a queen, but this King needs a harem.”
“What makes you think Rich ready to go solo?”
King chuckled. “Candy and Vanessa. After them you need a break.”
Rich knew there was some validity to King's statement. But while Rich had turned down passes from women on Zora's job, he had sexed his share of ladies in Atlanta. He had even experience two threesomes. Rich found himself constantly struggling to suppress what had become a natural yearning for sex with two women simultaneously.
“Moving along. What's the science with that business proposition?” King asked.
He had offered Rich the opportunity to invest in the establishment of a second branch of Queens Incorporated slated to open in Los Angeles.
“It's been on my mind,” Rich said. He had been living off his stock portfolio of several Fortune 500 companies and a larger stake he had in his uncle's luxury car rental service. Because Rich had no stable residence outside of the cabin he owned in Upstate, New York, he had not settled down long enough to think about new investments.
“It's a one-point-two million dollar project. A thirty percent stake in an established brand is a good look for you. We made a lot of blood money together on the streets. Now we can make a lot of legal money. My marketing team is predicting a return on investment in a year, which you know is unheard of in a lot of companies.”
“I'm leaning in your direction, but I need to shoot out to LA and meet with your people and feel the scene before I sign a check.”
“So you don't always take things on face value?” King grinned. “Always do the knowledge.”
Rich watched Zora saunter over in a striped bathing suit and Fendi shades. On her head was a large white hat reminiscent of those worn by older women attending church on Sundays.
“What's up, baby?” Zora sat on Rich's lap, then leaned down and kissed him before turning to King. “I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”
“It's a little too late for that question, but no,” Rich said.
“I'm sorry, Daddy.” Zora rubbed her hand on Rich's bare chest, down to his six pack. She grinded slowly in his lap and winked at him. “I can make it up to you.”
“It's plenty of rooms inside.” King pointed to his two-story, 15,000-square-foot mansion. “Out here we party.” He stood and started a slow two-step as Kelly Rowland's “Motivation” came on.
“Damn, I love this song.” Zora grabbed Rich's arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, baby.”
Rich threw his hands in the sky, rocking back and forth behind Zora as she rotated her hips and swerved her small, round butt against his groin. He grabbed the bottle of Nuvo off the table and took a sip before waving it in the air.
Zora snatched the bottle from him and took a swig. She turned around, still rocking to the mellow beat as she placed her arms around Rich's broad shoulders.
Rich's hands wrapped around her gyrating hips. He noticed Katiya gazing at him. She was sipping a Margarita as she moved her body in what looked like a belly dance. Rich saw her inching toward him with the type of grin that often preceded foreplay. She got just a foot behind Zora, then licked her lips at Rich before shifting her ass against King.
“Go, go go,” King sang.
Although Katiya's sexy figure and her dance moves were perfectly in sync with the beat, her eyes never left Rich's. He realized how better she looked up close. Thin strands of baby hair trailed her peanut butter complexion. She had a pearly pair of eyes that were naturally seductive and capable of conveying messages that the best orator would have trouble speaking. A curly ponytail hung to the small of her back, where her backside protruded from her dress. Zora was gorgeous and the softness of her body against Rich was intoxicating, but just the sight of Katiya was making Rich more aroused than Zora's closeness to him.
After the song was over, Rich sat. Zora flopped down on his lap again. King and Katiya sat beside each other in front of Rich and Zora. Rich eyed Katiya's toned calves as she folded one leg over the other, revealing a tanned thigh that was far thicker than Vanessa's thighs, but nowhere near as thick as Candy's. As much as Rich tried to free his mind of Candy and Vanessa, they had become the litmus test by which he gauged women.
“Katiya, this is an old friend of mine named Rich,” King said.
Katiya smiled and shook Rich's hand.
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” said Rich.
“I know.” Katiya grinned.
Rich was thrown off. This broad really on some cocky shit.
“And this is Zora, my personal assistant,” King said.
“Oh, the help,” said Katiya with a smirk.
Rich awaited a defensive response from Zora, but she simply smiled. It reminded Rich of the passiveness he witnessed after their elevator adventure when Candy and Vanessa scared Zora senseless.
“Old friend,” Katiya said. “I suppose camaraderie brings you here and not free drinks,” she paused and glanced at Zora, “and leftovers.”
Zora sighed and looked at Rich a
s if she expected him to defend her. When Rich remained silent, she stood and stomped off.
“You just had to come at her in a cold current,” King said, shaking his head.
“Beauty and class can be intimidating to average women.” She turned to Rich. “But my interests lie elsewhere.” She leaned forward and removed Rich's smartphone from his waist and began typing. “This is the address to a gated community, Rich. Security will need your driver's license to confirm that you are Jamel Thomas.” She slipped Rich's smartphone back in the case attached to his waist, then walked off.
“I just found out your government is Jamel Thomas.” said King.
Rich's eyes were on Katiya as she gracefully strutted past a crowd of models in front of the D.J. booth. He was so amazed by her blunt approach and confidence that he didn't know how to respond in her presence or to King's statement. That was a new phenomenon, because Rich had never been left speechless by a woman. As he watched the switch underneath her dress, he knew he had to have her. But more importantly, he needed to know what else she knew about him in addition to the name his mother had given him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DOMINGO
Domingo parked Chanel's Escalade on the corner of Sutter and Schenck Avenues in front of her East New York home in Sutter Gardens. He scanned the small, three-story apartment complex, then switched his gun off safety as he spotted a clique of youth inside Chanel's hallway.
“Don't start no shit,” she protested with a drunken grin.
“I used to start beef. Now, I just finish it.”
Chanel pulled out her Sidekick and pressed a few buttons. “I need a cab on Sutter and—”
Domingo grabbed her phone and turned it off.
“I told you I was gonna have a cab take you back to Red Hook. What the hell are you—”
Domingo interrupted her by leaning over and sliding his tongue into her mouth. He could taste the liquor as she jerked back instinctively and then submitted to him. Within seconds, his hands were everywhere, from her breasts and butt to between her legs.
Chanel pulled back from him. Her eyes were still glassy from the liquor.
“What's good, Ma?”
Chanel looked through her tinted windows to the youngsters inside of her hallway and then glanced back at Domingo. “I wanna see if you can really eat pussy like Vera said. But now is not a good time to come in my crib.”
Domingo was anxious. He wanted raw sex where the foreplay began—inside Chanel's Escalade. He started the truck.
“Where we goin'?”
“Don't worry, be easy.” Domingo turned down Schenck and rode to Jamaica Avenue and circled around the back of Highland Park. He pulled up in the dark, desolate area. He removed his specs and began unbuckling his belt, then unzipped his pants.
“Damn!” Chanel said when Domingo's dick popped out.”Your young ass is holdin',” she said with a childish giggle induced by her intoxication.
Domingo slipped his hand up her skirt. She was not wearing underwear so he had easy access. He began fingering her.
“Umph,” she purred, then hiked up her skirt and straddled Domingo as he steered his stiff pipe into her softness.
“Damn. Oh shit.” Domingo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth opened wide. The Chanel Legacy is real. Her pussy was wetter and softer than any he had experienced. It was as if she had extra muscles and flesh that spiraled around his dick like a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey.
Chanel began to pant as she worked up a rhythm, slowly rising the full length of Domingo's long dick, then slamming her pussy down forcefully each time.
Domingo unbuttoned her shirt and pulled her breasts from her bra. As she wrapped her arms around the headrest, one of her nipples fell directly in between Domingo's lips. He ran his tongue over her areola and then swallowed her nipple like it was his last opportunity with a woman.
Chanel sped up her pace, leaning back against the steering wheel as she pushed her lower body at Domingo while he cupped her ass.
“Yeah, Ma.” Domingo's eyes opened and he pulled Chanel into him as he came. Sweat dripped from her onto him.
After a few seconds, Chanel climbed off of Domingo. She was upbeat. Domingo had sexed her sober. She looked through the tinted windows of her truck and then opened the door. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Just come on.”
Domingo set his gun beside him, zipped up his shorts and tightened his belt, before stepping outside into the warm summer night air. He walked around the front of the Escalade, and found Chanel leaning against the hood. He looked at her thick legs in front of the huge chrome rim.
Chanel hiked up her skirt and hoisted herself up on the hood.
Domingo's eyes stared at the wet layers of hair covering her pussy. He looked around the block. There was no one in sight.
“Come on,” Chanel said. “I'm hot, so hurry up.” She began squeezing her breasts. Domingo's mind was still thinking of how fleshy and wet Chanel's pussy was, so he was anxious to taste it. He wedged her legs apart and gripped her thick hips before he dove in. He swiped his tongue around until it slipped in between her bulging pussy lips. Her body jolted. He could taste her pussy becoming wetter as his tongue wandered inside of her love tunnel.
“Yeah, eat me. Eat me, baby.”
Chanel's erotic cries motivated Domingo. He began massaging her clit as he slurped on each of her pussy lips in between moving his tongue in and out of her pussy. The layers of slippery flesh that wrapped his dick were like a bowl of jelly that his tongue roamed through.
“Just like that.” Chanel wrapped one of her legs around the back of his neck, pulling him close as he worked deeper inside of her.
Domingo applied slightly more pressure to Chanel's clit with his finger and then ran his tongue back and forth across it.
Chanel screamed as her other leg wrapped around Domingo's neck. “Come on. I'm about to cum. I'm cummiinng.”
Domingo sucked on her clit until her body went limp. He helped her off the hood of the truck. Palming her ass with both hands, he pulled her skirt down. His dick was getting hard again just looking at her 34-23-40 figure. He was conjuring memories of the supreme pleasure she had given him.
“So Vera was right about your tongue game,” Chanel said as she buttoned her shirt. She slipped her hand inside Domingo's pants and ran her hand over the length of his dick. “But she don't know nothin' about this.” She pulled her hand out and licked her fingers. “Maybe next time I'll taste it.”
“Next time can be right now.”
Chanel grinned.
“This ain't no laughin’ matter.”
“We got plenty of time.” She opened the door and climbed into the Escalade.
As Domingo walked around to the driver's seat, he wondered just how much time he would have with Chanel. He had an obligation and was receiving payment to see to it that Candy and Vanessa were given the information they needed to kill Chanel. But that was the old Chanel—the Chanel whom he had no idea would give him a sexual experience he would never forget and the promise of more. Domingo liked Candy and wanted nothing more than to sex her. But Candy was keeping her distance and Chanel was spreading her legs.
* * *
Over a week had passed since Domingo had sex with Chanel. During that time they had explored each other's bodies three times, and each episode had become more intense for Domingo. They had clearly defined their relationship as a sexual one with no commitment to an emotion beyond raw passion. Chanel was vocal that she had a man and Domingo was out of her man's league financially. What Domingo had that Chanel wanted was a tongue capable of awakening feelings within her that she was not experiencing at home.
Domingo stretched out on his bed with a Tec-9 in his hand and a blunt in his mouth. He had just got off the phone with Chanel. He was upset that he would not be able to see her today, because she was in Florida with her man. He was more upset that she had taken a flight to Miami without telling him.
But he didn't express his displeasure to Chanel because he knew she had no obligations to tell him of her whereabouts. They were in a discrete and open relationship. But despite his maturity, Domingo was a youth ten years younger than Chanel. He was outmatched by her know-how in relationships and unable to control the sexual lure of her. Domingo had been a solo player on the streets. He was not used to sharing. And the thought of playing second string to Chanel's man was hard for him to grasp.
Lickin' License Part 2: More Sex, More Saga Page 9