A Sister's Secret

by Cydney Rax

“Um, no,” she answered. “I’d rather relax with a bubble bath.”

  “No, that’ll take too long. In fact, you can skip that shower.”

  He walked over to Burgundy, staring at her with a dreamy look in his eyes.

  “Nate, please,” she said. “I smell funky. I need to clean myself.”

  “I’ll clean you up,” he offered. “Let me go get a face cloth and some soap.”

  “That’s not enough. I don’t want you down there—”

  “I love your natural scent.”

  Nasty sex disgusted Burgundy. She preferred to be as fresh as possible.

  “It’ll be okay,” he insisted. “I just want to eat you for a few minutes, all right?”

  She grimaced, wanted to tell him, “You disgust me,” but she wasn’t in the mood to argue. She let him go wet a cloth with hot water and liquid soap. He returned to her then asked Burgundy to take off her clothes. She took her time removing her blouse, slacks, bra, and panties. Soon she was completely naked and shivering from a cold blast of air conditioning that suddenly filled the room.

  Nate stood before his wife. He adored her body and had a good time observing her round tits, nipples, curvy hips, smooth thighs, athletic arms, and long legs. At thirty-two, she looked five years younger. She still made him yearn for her body. He knelt in front of Burgundy, placed his lips against her belly and kissed it.

  “I love your stomach,” he told her.

  “Thanks.”

  He laughed, sounding almost giddy that he was able to be intimate with Burgundy. He then reached behind her and grabbed her ass with his strong hands. He caressed her butt cheeks, which were soft as a baby’s bottom and had very little cellulite.

  “Mmm,” he moaned. “It’s been so long. You know that, don’t you.”

  She nodded. Boy, did she know.

  As a woman, she learned a long time ago that females had something that heterosexual men wanted, and it wasn’t peach cobbler. It was coochie. Men go crazy over it. They get demanding about it. Beg for it. Wear deodorant and shower and dress their best to try and get it. They’ll lie to get it, cheat to get it, pay cash to get it, act nice to get it. They’ll risk their health, their life, and maybe even their wife for it. They’ll wait for it, and wait for it, talk about it, and get sentimental about it. Men can grow an erection just from dreaming about it. And if they feel that your coochie is their coochie, they might even kill another man for it.

  With his eyes shut tight, Nate began to moan and purr. She knew exactly what that meant. His hands explored her like she was a rare treasure. Fingers rubbed her bottom over and over, caressing it; then his cold fingers were inserted between her butt cheeks. He wiggled his hand.

  “How does that feel? That feel good?”

  It felt awful, but she said nothing.

  Nate could be freaky if she let him. He got settled behind her, exploring every crevice. The tongue that was just on her lips was now in her behind. Licking, slurping, moaning and getting his kicks. She felt self-conscious but thought, This is what he likes, so she let him continue. He thoroughly enjoyed himself for a while as she let him poke around till he was satisfied. Then he got up and made her go lie on their bed. She climbed on the mattress and settled on her side so that her back was facing him. Burgundy’s entire body stiffened the second he placed his hand on her hip. It was one thing for Nate to pat her ass, another thing for him to take things a few steps further. Her bones felt brittle as she held her breath and tensed up even more. But he never noticed her reaction. Completely lost in his erotic joy, Nate made a long trail of kisses: from her neck, to her nipples, to her kneecaps, to her ankles. She turned over on her back this time and let him do his thing.

  Nate moved himself closer to her. He positioned his torso so that it was aligned near her mouth. His penis dangled in front of her. But then it was in Burgundy’s face, close enough for her to smell it. Penis always smelled peculiar to Burgundy, like a rubbery scent, but she got used to it. He grabbed himself then rubbed the tip for a few seconds.

  “Here,” he offered. “Give me a hand job.”

  She wanted to argue, tell him no. But what good would it do.

  Burgundy looped her fingers around his penis. Even though he had just rubbed himself, his male organ drooped and wilted, reminding her of a banana that was no longer ripe. And she hated it.

  She withheld a sigh and dutifully began to stroke it with one hand. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  Down. Down. Up. Up.

  The task felt monotonous. Nate had about five inches, and he was pleased when it could expand to eight.

  “Nate, babe,” she gently said as she caressed him and he still didn’t get hard. “You took your meds?”

  She was referring to the tiny orange pill that his doctor prescribed, which was supposed to control high blood pressure.

  “Mmm hmm,” Nate answered as he moaned and shuddered.

  She rolled her eyes. After five minutes of stroking him until her hands felt raw, his dick still felt squishy, like a banana gone bad that needed to be flung into a trash can.

  Nate pushed his wife’s head toward his banana; her mouth bumped against it. Its softness repelled her. She jerked back.

  “Nate,” she complained. “Sorry! But I-I’ve had a very long day. I’m so wiped out. I really don’t want to—”

  “There are a lot of things I don’t want to do either, but I still do them.” He reluctantly released his fingers from around her head. Nate went and reclined against several pillows that were stacked against the headboard. He stiffly folded his arms across his chest. He thought a few seconds. Then he picked up the remote and punched buttons that switched the channel to ESPN. He pumped up the volume and took an immediate interest in a sporting broadcast; he acted like his wife didn’t just crawl next to him.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Burgundy said lamely. She was close enough to him that their thighs touched.

  Nate failed to answer. Usually he enjoyed placing an arm around her when she was in bed. They would snuggle together and he would hold her tight. But he did nothing.

  It was like Burgundy was invisible. And right then she really didn’t care.

  How can I tell him that his penis doesn’t do it for me anymore? I love everything else about our marriage, we get along great, we work well as far as our business ventures, but sex with him is like trying to make love to a two-year-old boy. I don’t want a little boy.

  Nate became consumed with the analysis of some recent NBA games. Feeling guilty, Burgundy got out of bed. She snuck away to take a quick shower. She cleaned herself well and pondered her dilemma.

  It had been a long time for Nate, but it had been quite a while for her too.

  As a woman she was no different than him. She also had needs. But what could Burgundy do if she wasn’t being fulfilled? Masturbation was an option, but it didn’t replace the feeling of a stiff, hot penis that fit snugly inside of her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed that type of sexual pleasure.

  Burgundy quietly dried herself off with a towel, applied deodorant and lotion, and put several plastic rollers in her hair, then secured her curls with a silk bonnet. She flicked off the bathroom light and climbed back in bed beside her husband. She hesitated but then decided to cuddle up to him even though his eyes were still fixed on the television. She grabbed his hand and moved it toward her vagina. She was hairless down there, and she knew that he liked the feel of that. Hairless vaginas were his thing. He also loved her breasts. Everything about her seemed to turn him on, and she actually was glad about that.

  Burgundy patted his hand.

  “Go on,” she whispered. “Finger me.”

  He turned around and looked at Burgundy like she had a lot of damn nerve.

  “Oh, I can’t get mine, but you still expect yours? You still want to come even though I didn’t? Typical selfish woman.”

  “Nate, that’s not fair.” She snatched the remote from him and turned off the power, then tossed the controller away. It b
anged against the wall and rested on the hardwood floor.

  “This is as much as your fault as it is mine,” Burgundy continued in a controlled voice. “I told you to get some help. Just try the Viagra—”

  “No!”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t need that. My dick gets hard . . . once you do what you’re supposed to do.”

  “But, Nate . . . it takes so long for you to get aroused that my mouth gets tired. I’ve told you that a hundred times. I’m so exhausted from sucking you that I’m almost asleep by the time you’re ready to penetrate me. And me being asleep while you’re getting your kicks feels too much like rape.”

  “What?”

  “All I’m trying to say is that . . . getting you ready just takes too long. And even then when the dick does get hard, it won’t stay hard. Then we’re forced to begin the cycle all over again.”

  “Don’t you like pleasing me, Burg?”

  Frustrated, she folded her arms across her chest. “I like a hard dick. A soft one doesn’t do it for me. I-I can’t pretend anymore.”

  He gasped, then glared at her.

  Burgundy wondered if she’d been too blunt, if her honesty had severely wounded his pride. When she thought about their recent Sister Day assignment, it encouraged them to confront someone in a nice way. Well, she’d tried that method with Nate on several occasions. She had gone in easily by first making lighthearted jokes. And when he failed to laugh, she offered to help finance a pack of ten Sildenafil pills, which cost sixty-two bucks apiece. They’d have to fork over a total of six hundred twenty dollars just to get the dick to work.

  He had complained for that amount of money he could buy an evening with ten whores.

  She had laughed hysterically but wondered if he was serious. Was he that cheap, because they definitely had the money to buy those pills? Or did her husband have a different reason for not wanting to take medicine for erectile dysfunction?

  It was true that when some men reached a certain age, they had trouble maintaining an erection, especially if they took medicine for hypertension. Supposedly there were plans for a generic medication for sildenafil citrate, one that would be decidedly less costly. Plus it treated high blood pressure. Double bonus. But who had time to wait on it to hit the market? Could her marriage afford to wait on a cheaper sex pill, or would something else have to happen first to get things going in their ice-cold bedroom? Burgundy hated knowing that Nate was impotent. She tried hard not to negatively judge him, but their issue was starting to take a toll on her, especially since she was hitting her sexual prime.

  “Babe,” she struggled to tell him, “I love you with everything I have—”

  “I certainly wouldn’t know it.”

  “Stop playing. You know I do.”

  “Then why won’t you help me? I don’t ask for much, do I?”

  It was true. Nathaniel Taylor was like her Superman, one of the few men who were excellent at multitasking. He worked like crazy and was good at what he did in managing both the brunch restaurant and their barbershop. He also helped with the kids, took good care of their home, fixed many broken appliances, and he went to church semiregularly. He did more than the average guy out there. Burgundy knew she was fortunate, a woman who had a lot to be thankful for. Nevertheless, a hot dick was what she craved.

  But she did have her marriage, and that’s what she wanted more than anything, even if she did not have everything that she wanted.

  “I think you should see a urologist,” she suggested.

  “I don’t need to do that. I don’t have time anyway.”

  “Nate, that’s a lie. You’re the master of your own schedule. Make time. Prioritize.”

  He quickly grew quiet on her. The silence felt painful. A closed mouth scared her, for she did not know what he was thinking. She couldn’t begin to guess what her husband was feeling.

  He finally replied. “Forget it. It’s not that important.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, now you’re really lying.”

  “Are you accusing me of being a liar just because I said forget it? Burg, do you know what my schedule has been like lately?” he asked. “Even you are aware that ever since we have test marketed some new dishes, I’ve been very busy trying to keep all that under control. Trying to finalize those buttermilk wheat waffles and the fried chicken donuts. And the barbershop had an attempted break-in the other week—”

  “It did?” she asked.

  “Burgundy, I told you about that and how I had to replace a door. Weren’t you listening?”

  At that announcement, her face looked crestfallen. If it was true that his schedule was busy, then this was proof that his wife’s was even more hectic because she could not recall the conversation about a break-in. Suddenly Burgundy’s guilt multiplied. If he controlled his schedule, then she could control hers too.

  “Babe, let’s put this horrible incident behind us.”

  “It was horrible,” he said, sounding like an inconsolable child.

  “We can try again later this week, all right?” she asked in her sweetest voice.

  But his dirty look shocked her.

  “Nate, please don’t be mad. It’s not my fault, not yours, no one’s.”

  “Didn’t you just tell me I’m to blame, what, not even a few minutes ago?”

  “No. Well, yes. It’s your fault in that you refuse to buy those pills.”

  “They cost too damned much,” he complained.

  “Then it would be fair to say that your frugal ways are what’s causing us to go through this sexual frustration.”

  “Burg, it’s cheaper for you to suck my dick than it would be for me to take those damned pills. In my world that’s not being cheap, it’s called using common sense.”

  But Burgundy didn’t want to suck dick. She never felt pleasure in giving him blowjobs. She considered the task exhausting. Besides, why should she have to work so hard to make his penis function anyway? A soft dick that had to get licked in order to grow as hard as a brick simply wasn’t worth it to Burgundy.

  But what could a woman do if she still enjoyed sex? She had gotten used to not doing it with Nate, and sometimes she convinced herself that she didn’t miss it.

  Other times, however, Burgundy found herself wishing that she could get away with stepping out on him. Nate was so trusting of her, he’d never even know. She sometimes wondered how it would be to enjoy one lovely evening in the sack with a man virile enough to keep her satisfied. She shut her eyes and imagined how wonderful it would be to have her fantasies come true.

  Nate got up, retrieved the remote, turned on the TV, and resumed looking at ESPN. Burgundy gladly let him. She turned over in bed, pulled the covers over her head, and continued fantasizing. She knew the truth, but it would be a cold day in hell before she had the guts to admit her desires to her husband. And that’s how it would have to be.

  * * *

  When a woman hasn’t had any loving in months or years, sometimes she can go stark-raving mad.

  Alita couldn’t believe it. She was at Shade’s house, lying right next to him, on top of his bed. Both of his lamps were on. The room was well lit.

  Alita was fully dressed, but she still felt butt-ass naked. She was telling him, “Do I have a right to be in my feelings?”

  “I’m not sure if you have a right, but you feel what you feel. You were married to the guy for what, over a decade?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And how long did it take to fall out of love with him?” Shade sat perfectly still as he spoke with Alita. He loved how the light shone brightly on her face, the way the ends of her hair were curled and touched the back of her neck.

  “Oh, do you really wanna hear that story?” Before he could answer, she slid the sandals off her feet, kicked them off hard till they clunked on his ceramic floor. She took one look at Shade, then spread on out her stomach. Her dress pulled up a couple of inches exposing her legs, th
e backs of which had several dimples.

  “I dunno, Shade. To be honest, I wasn’t counting time. I was busy hurting.”

  He laughed and enjoyed the view from where he was sitting.

  “Let me let you in on something. From what I’ve been told, if a couple has been together ten years and they eventually end the relationship, they’ve been breaking up for five years.”

  “Huh?”

  He laughed again. He loved that way about her, an honest and unpretentious way that allowed her to not put on airs or to pretend she knew exactly what he was talking about all the time.

  “Speak plain English,” she said. “You know I only got to the twelfth grade.”

  “What I am asking you is if it took you years to get over Leonard? Are you over him? Do you have any love in your heart for him?”

  “Ha! You don’t even need to ask me that.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve met a lot of women, all kinds of women, and one thing I’ve learned is that they may seem like they’re all the same, but they’re not. And, even if this one reminds me of that one,” Shade explained, “I’m better off asking a woman very specific questions if I want to know the answers.”

  “That makes a lot of damn sense,” Alita admitted. “And I feel like I can’t stand the sight of my ex-husband a lot of times. The love I used to have for him died out probably two years after we broke up. I had to get my head straight, or at least try to, before I could even think about going out with a new guy. Not that they didn’t constantly hit on my ass left and right.”

  “I don’t blame them.” He looked at her. “Hey, is it okay if I rub your feet? I’ve been told I have a great way of rubbing feet.”

  She smiled at him and shrugged. “Why the hell not? I could use a good rubdown.”

  At first she was going to simply lie there and let him lift up her feet. But she decided to be naughtily sexy. Alita unzipped the zipper and removed her jeans. She was now wearing just a size XL T-shirt. It made it look as if she was wearing shorty pajamas. She turned over on her stomach. That meant that Shade had an excellent view of the backs of her legs, which were gorgeous and alluring.