by Vera Roberts
We head over to Cantoni to do the bulk of our furniture shopping. When I moved in with Ian, I donated most of my furniture to Adrienne and Blake. They were so impressed with it, they decided to decorate their entire house with the brand.
As we pass by luxurious leather sofas, oak tables, and bookshelves made with graphite, Adrienne fills me on the details of her honeymoon. They went swimming with the dolphins, got deliriously drunk and ate overpriced (and undercooked) lobster, and pretty much had sex almost every free second.
“So, what’s going on with you, Sister?” Adrienne casually looks at the beds. We already decorated the living room, so now we’re onto the first guest room. “How is everything now?”
“Everything is everything,” I sigh as I sit on the expensive bed. “We’re finally living together and it’s just so wonderful.”
“I bet it is,” Adrienne chuckles, “You’re walking bowlegged so I imagine it’s real wonderful.”
“Oh hush!” I blush and she smiles, “Ian has given me his blessing to pursue dance full-time so I’m looking for the perfect studio to conduct classes in.”
“Oooh…” Adrienne sits on the bed and then shakes her head. “…too hard.” She gets up and goes to another bed. “What classes are these?”
“Pole dancing. Not be confused with stripping, mind you.” I point out. “The classes will be for everyone but I have a feeling my biggest clients will be the bored housewives learning how to get down.”
“That should be entertaining.” Adrienne slowly enunciates every word, “can you have hidden cameras and run the feedback to my phone?”
“You are horrible!” I laugh and she joins in. “So once I find a studio, my classes will begin.”
“That’s good,” she walks over to another bed and sits on it. She silently nods as if she likes that one. “What else is going on? Have you heard from Sam and Candy at all?”
Our father and his new wife. Since Candy announced her pregnancy, I’ve been inundated with news about my upcoming half-sibling. She even went as far as friend requesting me on Facebook and for whatever reason, I accepted. Now I get to see in 24/7 glory, every.single.detail of her pregnancy. Yuck.
“Every symptom, every movement, every onesie I know about,” I shrug. “She’s happy and it’s her first so I can’t knock her.”
“Well, she got what she wanted,” Adrienne deadpans, “she wanted the sugar daddy and the trust fund baby so there you go.”
“I’m not sure why she added me as a friend,” I reply, “she hasn’t said a word to me at all.”
“Have you posted anything?” Adrienne asks and I nod.
“The wedding photos. My profile picture is of us.” I refer to me and my sister. “But nothing else.”
Adrienne reveals a slow grin. “No mention of Ian at all?”
“Other than the public pics that everyone else has seen, there’s nothing new there.” Which bothers me more than it should. Granted our relationship is still relatively new and Ian does have a Facebook (though he says he’s rarely on it), I haven’t actually made the big social media step every woman wants to do when she’s in a new relationship:
Claim their lover online.
Yes, I know it’s cheesy and I know a lot of women don’t do it (who are they?). But I don’t know…Ian has always been ultra private about his dating life and other than pictures of me on his IG account, he hasn’t been seen with any other woman.
Hmm…maybe that’s it. Maybe there’s a reason he claimed me and not the others.
“I haven’t sent him a request to connect. Should I?” I ask. “Is it too thirsty?”
“Um, you’re his girlfriend,” Adrienne’s eyes narrow, “I would hope he’ll claim you online.”
I’m too impatient to wait until I go home so I take out my phone and open Facebook. I go straight to Ian’s profile and sent a friend request. Since my man is going to be swamped all day, I’ll just wait later to check to see if he accepted. “Well, I did the first step so that’s done.”
“Yay for baby steps!” Adrienne gets up and lies down on another bed. Something tells me she’s not really shopping for a new bed but she just wants to lay down on all of them. “What else is new?”
“I have a date to watch Sydney Walker and Dean Winchester have sex.” It’s supposed to be an artistic piece and I do believe that part of it. It’s just insanity I’m about to witness live porn.
“Oh, that should be fun.” Adrienne approves. “How many people are going to be there?”
“A lot, about ten of us.” My eyes widened. I barely just started having sex not that long ago and I’m about to participate in a not-quite orgy? “It’s not a group activity.”
“You wouldn’t be prepared for it,” Adrienne shook her head, “Too many holes and not enough dicks.”
“Okay, gross,” I mention to her and she giggles. No bitch, that’s gross. Stop talking about that shit. “I’ll be attending their wedding tomorrow so I need a dress for that.”
“Wedding and sex tape?” Adrienne sighed. “and here I thought being in a trans marriage was wild.”
“I have a feeling you two are quite normal.” I state.
“What else is new?” She asks.
“Well,” I join my sister on the other bed. My back is starting to hurt now but I can’t say that to my sister. “I’m on birth control. I’m on the shot because I don’t trust myself to remember taking a pill every day. And…Ian wants me to sign a contract.”
“A contract?” Adrienne turns to me. “For what?”
“He’s going to give me a monthly allowance for as long as we’re together. He’s going to put it in writing.” I look out the windows and see downtown L.A before me, “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“Ah yes, the prenup prenup,” Adrienne nods, “he wants to make sure you’re covered but he also wants to make sure his assets are protected. It’s rather common with the wealthy in the dating stages. It also sets up the potential prenup for when a marriage happens.”
“Prenup,” I say under my breath. I honestly don’t have a problem signing a prenup. It’s Ian’s money and he’s worked hard for it. I’m sure the idea of splitting everything in half with a younger wife who’s barely out of college makes his dick itch.
I just hate how technically and just plain unromantic it sounds. Love shouldn’t have contracts and stipulations, yet it does. I’m sure we all have mentioned if our lover did something unsavory, that was the end of the relationship. That’s a stipulation.
A prenup is just the stipulations in writing.
“You need to consult with a lawyer. I worked with a good one to help me solidify things with Blake,” Adrienne replies, “we have everything set up in case of her pregnancy, children, etc. We’ll both be very protected and covered.”
“I guess I should consult with your guy,” I shake my head, “so surreal. Just two years ago, I was on the verge of being kicked out of college. Now I’m a billionaire’s girlfriend.”
“Crazy,” Adrienne replies. “We’re both with billionaires. How insane is that?”
“Two girls from Baldwin Hills.” It’s still unbelievable for me. “We really started from the bottom and now we’re here.”
My phone notifies me of a message. Not only did Ian accept my request but he also linked my profile to his, with the ‘In a relationship’ declaration and I needed to verify if it was true.
As I happily accept the request and sent a kissy face emoji to Ian’s wall, I can finally relax. Everything is perfect and coming together piece by piece.
Little did I know, that declaration claiming each other was going to be the beginning of the end.
Three
I’ve never seen a porn but somehow I don’t think they’re this fancy.
As we all gather in downtown L.A. for Sydney and Dean’s sex tape…erm…artistic piece…I’m stunned by the production of it all. Open floor to ceiling windows, open spaces, catering from 3121, and expensive camera equipment that makes this
seem like a Hollywood production and not a porn shoot.
Suddenly, I feel better.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if I was going to see a group of ForeverAlone guys with cases of Mountain Dew, beer bellys, and looking rather obeast as they tried in vain to hide their erections as they get the perfect camera angle.
Or, I didn’t know if I was going to see a bunch of women straight out of Beverly Hills’s finest plastic surgeons, with tits so hard and round, they’ll make basketballs jealous. In addition to lips so puffed up, they could be used as flotation devices.
Instead, I see a contemporary art layout. The music varies from Trey Songz, Jodeci, and Johnny Gill. Lavender incense softly burns at a nearby distance. A hairstylist and a makeup artist are making up Sydney while two other women talk to her about her “performance.”
Dean and Ian are having some words between them and I’m assuming all is better. Ian may have played a role in his breakup with Sydney and Dean, but he also played a significant role in getting them back together and saving Dean from potential embarrassment.
My man’s a genius.
I’m weary about how fluid he can play the roles of saint and sinner without a second-thought. Yet, I’m amazed by how brilliant he executes both plans, turning his moods on and off like a light switch at any given time.
A few weeks ago, Sydney and Dean got married at their home with just family and close friends. I was invited as a plus one of Ian. They cried, laughed, and dedicated themselves to each other as they stood barefoot underneath the stars. I remember feeling Ian’s arms wrap around me as they recited vows. He pulled me in closer to him and softly kissed my temple.
I’m not going to front; I instantly started wondering what our wedding would look like. Would it be a production with a million-dollar budget and A-list celebrities? Or would I prefer something small and intimate with just our closest friends and family?
I know I’m just ahead of myself. It’s not even clear if Ian wants to marry me but a girl can dream, can she?
“I’m so glad you’re here, Domi!” I hear Sydney’s breathy voice from behind and she gives me a huge bear hug. “Thank you for coming by!”
I really don’t know how to respond to someone thanking me for going to watch them have sex so I keep it short and sweet. “Yeah, anytime,” I politely smile. I feel a little awkward trying to think of conversation when all I can think about is how I’m about to see every nook and cranny of Sydney. “So are you ready?”
“Oh yeah,” Sydney shrugs off the question like it was nothing. Maybe she’s a bigger freak than I realized. “I won’t even notice everyone is here. I’m just glad you made it, though. You’re the reason for all of my success!” She gives me a big hug again and quickly leaves.
I love how #carefreeblackgirl Sydney is. She lives life by the seat of her Victoria’s Secret thong and thinks about the consequences later, if there are any. I see why Ian was initially attracted to her. I can also see why he was attracted to me. He wanted someone to flip the script.
I guess he likes the manic pixie dream girls?
“You must be Ian’s girlfriend,” a younger black woman with long curly hair approaches me. She’s dressed in tight jeans, Louboutins, and a crop top that exposes a navel piercing. “Hi, I’m Mariana Harlow. I’m Scott Reed’s girlfriend.”
“Hi Mariana,” I smile at her. Gosh, she’s gorgeous. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” she pushes a lock of hair behind an ear, “If you have any questions, you can ask me or my friend, Zerrin.” She points to another black woman wearing a head wrap, colorful dress, and an aura that channels her inner Erykah Badu. “Please let me know if you need anything. If you feel uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll move you to another area.”
I get the feeling Mariana’s done this before… “What do I do?” I honestly have no idea.
“Just relax and enjoy!” Mariana pointed over to the craft services table where Sentiment catered the bow chikka bow wow. “Eat, drink, and be merry as we watch them get it in.”
“Sounds like a plan!” I nod and make my way over to craft services. Fresh fruit, sashimi bites, truffle mac n’ cheese, mini crab cakes, and a vast assortment of cheeses and olives. Beer, wine, water, and champagne await me. I have a feeling not even a Hollywood movie set is this fancy.
I start to pour a glass of champagne when a familiar hand stops me. “Now, you know a lady isn’t supposed to pour her own champagne,” Ian stands behind me and pours two glasses. I smell his earthy cologne, feel his muscular frame press against mine, and my knees buckle.
I felt the heat from his body and it matched the warmth pooling between my thighs. Amazing how he could turn me on and we both completely clothed. Ian only said a few words and now I’m ready to show Sydney and Dean how it’s done.
He hands me a glass and softly places a kiss on my cheek. “How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?”
I love how everyone is checking on me. They could’ve just ignored me and put Baby in the corner but they’re actually checking up on my welfare. “I am now. I think I’m more nervous than anyone here. It seems like everyone’s an expert in exhibiti…” I didn’t finish my sentence as it dawns onto me Ian might also be included in that category.
“You were saying?” He asks.
“You’ve done this before,” I casually cross my arms, “this isn’t your first rodeo.”
Ian’s eyes twinkle at me and he softly grins. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, but you eventually will.” He looks over and sees everyone has taken their places. “Are you ready?”
Butterflies fight for dominance in my tummy and I have no idea why I’m so nervous. It’s not even me performing on camera and yet I feel somehow I’m making my debut. “Let’s go.”
~~~~~
This isn’t a porn set.
I’m watching a couple’s love blossoming.
As Sydney climbed on top of Dean and began to slowly ride him, I silently reminded myself to breathe. I felt my heart stop and all sense fly out of the window. My feet are cement blocks on the hardwood floor and I think anyone could knock me down with a feather right now.
As I watch Dean’s shaft disappear deeper inside Sydney, my eyes widen. I’m gripping the champagne glass so hard, I hope to God I don’t break it. My breath is caught in my throat, and the urgency of want is softly thumping inside my panties.
Dean grips Sydney’s ass and forces her all the way down on him, and she greedily takes all of it. I slightly gasp as she softly shrieks and my mouth became cottony. My nipples harden like glass and the soft thumping became a low murmur.
This is seriously the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen.
I don’t dare to look around because I don’t want it to be obvious I’m the newb, though every one knows I am. I try to stay still and concentrate only on what’s in front of me. I couldn’t peel my eyes away even if I tried.
It wasn’t just sex between them. Dean and Sydney loved each other and they didn’t care who knew. They explored each other in front an audience, and honestly, I think they forgot we were there. That was the type of love I hoped to have with Ian. Only focus on each other and fuck the world who didn’t like us.
They finally climaxed – Sydney first, followed by Dean – and I think I might have came with them. My panties are soaked and all I can think about is sneaking Ian into the nearest bathroom and blowing his mind – literally and figuratively.
I remain calm, cool, and collected. I need to keep chill because it’s going to be a long day of shooting and that was only the first act.
The real question is would I be able to survive the day without changing my panties at least five times?
~~~~~
Ian and I arrive back home after a long day of shooting. Between the exhibitionistic sex, Sydney actually painted. She drew this amazing mural of football quarterback, Caleb Kelly, as he kneeled in front of the American flag.
Behind the flag were ima
ges of the United States’ dirty history – the Native American genocide, the Japanese interment camps, African slavery, Jim Crow laws, sundown towns, anti-immigration, and Islamophobia.
The caption read, “#NeverForget.”
Afterwards, we all went out to dinner and celebrated Sydney and Dean. Ian and the rest of the men spoke about a variety of topics, while I chatted with the women about nonsensical things and sharing a little about celebrity gossip. Even though everyone was older than me, I never felt awkward or out of place. I felt like I was always a part of their group, their union.
I actually felt I belonged.
“What a long day,” Ian bellowed as he entered the penthouse. He immediately slipped off his shoes in the foyer. I followed suit and walked with him to the living room. “I just hope Bobby does his magic and this goes away soon.”
Bobby is legendary A-list director, Bobby Whalen. Ian knows a lot of people in high places and Bobby did it as a favor to Ian. “I’m sure he will,” I snuggled up to him, and he wrapped his arm around me. “He certainly has enough footage to work with.”
“I hope so.” Ian caresses my arm and I softly sigh. I faintly smell what’s left of his musky cologne. I feel his soft heartbeat beneath my fingers and all is right with the world.
“So, tell me,” his deep voice bellows, “how did today make you feel? I know it was new for you but what was going on in that head of yours?”
“Well, it was certainly different. I can’t say I’ve ever experienced watching people have sex so that was new.”
“Did you like it? Did it make you uncomfortable?”
I loved it. I wouldn’t mind watching Sydney and Dean again. Hell, I might want to start watching other couples. Gosh, does that make me a bonafide freak? What is the appropriate answer to this? “I…liked it.”
I feel Ian’s smile as he plants a kiss on my forehead. “You don’t have to be shy, angel. Tell me how you feel.”
“Okay, I loved it.” I unapologetically shrug. “I loved every minute of it.”
“What did you love about it?”
The easiest answer was the sex, but it wasn’t. Seeing Sydney and Dean’s connection was beyond sex. They made love. They explored their love. They worshipped each other. “How the best moments in life aren’t for the ‘Gram.”