Red Light Special

by Risqué

  Collyn and Bless enjoyed the cocktail hour and the pre-show performance by a world renowned orchestra. Afterward they went to their enclosed box seats, with reclining burgundy leather chairs, wine chilling in a platinum ice bucket, and surround sound in the ceiling that made it seem as if they were on stage.

  A minute later the house lights went down and the show began.

  “Yo’,” Bless leaned over and whispered, “you have any panties on?”

  “See, you play too much,” Collyn said as Bless eased the sides of her dress up, running his hands up her thighs and along the curves of her ass.

  Kissing her on the neck, Bless said, “You wet?”

  Collyn smacked his hand. “What did I tell you?”

  “Look, if I ain’t gettin’ no pussy, I can go home, ’cause I don’t even know what they sayin’.” He nodded toward the stage.

  “Blessing, would you behave?”

  “I am, but I’m sayin’, though, let’s play a game.” He felt between her inner thighs.

  “What game?”

  “Let me see if I can make you hit some of those operatic high notes. And you know you got this chick beat. Remember the other night, you were like ‘Ahhhhh—’”

  She clapped her hands over his mouth. “Are you crazy? What has gotten into you?”

  “Man, just give me some pussy and stop playing with me. I’m gettin’ tired now.”

  Collyn hesitated for a moment. “If I give you a little bit, would you let me watch the show?”

  “Hell yeah, ’cause I’ma go to sleep afterward.”

  “I can’t take you anywhere,” she said, standing up, giving him a moment to unzip his pants and free his hard-on.

  Collyn reached over, pulled the velvet curtain to give them a little more privacy, and then returned to his lap.

  “I knew you had a thong on.” He pushed her pearl thong to the side and eased his thick, long pipe into her warm center. “Ahh, that’s better, now this is how you enjoy the opera.” He placed his hands on her hips and assisted her with gyrating them. The smooth skin on her ass felt like butter against his thighs as Bless found himself doing his damnedest not to bend her completely over and hit it from the back. Her center was always so inviting, so luscious, and so warm that he found himself placing his fingers on her clit and caressing it, while she swirled discreetly on his dick.

  Collyn bit the corner of her lip as Bless’s rock solid member felt as if it were melting every ounce of sugar from her walls. She could feel her candy sliding down the thumping veins on the side. She grabbed the arms of the chair, sucked in a breath, and released a scream that would put the most prestigious opera singer to rest.

  “Collyn,” Bless whispered, “you gon’ get us locked up and shit.” He laughed, “Calm down.”

  Collyn looked around to see if they had gathered any onlookers, seeing none she continued on, bucking his jimmy until she felt Bless’s thighs become tense, causing him to bite her lightly on the shoulder and whisper her name while he came, releasing his white chocolate into her flesh.

  After they went into the private bathroom and freshened up, there was enough time left in the show for Collyn to enjoy it and, as promised, for Bless to get his nap on.

  Three hours later, the opera ended and they headed home.

  “Did you have a good time?” she asked as he held the door open for her.

  “Hated it,” he said, now sitting behind the wheel.

  “What?”

  “Hell yeah, you were real stingy.”

  “Stingy? We were sitting in five-hundred-dollar seats and all you did was badger me for pussy and then you took your ungrateful ass to sleep.” She laughed, “You are so selfish.”

  “Selfish? You only gave me a little bit.”

  Collyn scooted over. “Aw, my sweetie feels neglected?” She unzipped his pants.

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t be like that.” She eased his thick head into her mouth. “Mama didn’t mean it.”

  Bless blew air out the side of his mouth, “Damn girl, you don’t be playing.” He did his best to keep his eyes on the road as she licked the length and nearly caused him to miss the brake pedal.

  Bless was struggling like hell to keep his eyes steady on the road. “Goddamn, baby.”

  She lifted her eyes. “I’m just trying not to be stingy.”

  Before he could respond she took him back into her mouth.

  “Fuck, hol’ up.” He pulled over to a wooded area off the shoulder. The night air was pitch black, with yellow and red lights streaking by from the passing cars along the highway.

  “What are you doing?” Collyn gave his dick one last kiss.

  “Take that shit off,” Bless said, removing his tuxedo jacket. “That’s enough of you fuckin’ wit’ me. Get yo’ ass in the back.”

  “Bless—”

  “Bless hell. Get yo’ ass in the back and take that shit off. All of it.”

  “Why don’t we wait until we get home?”

  “Home? I’ma fuck you when we get home too. Don’t worry about that, I got home covered.”

  Collyn climbed in the back and flattened the seats. She pulled her dress over her head and threw it to the front. Bless stripped out of his tux and kicked off his shoes. “Where them panties at? And take off that bra too.”

  “Bless, what if we get caught?”

  “Don’t worry, I got bail money.”

  Collyn giggled, loving how he made her feel sixteen again.

  Finally climbing into the back, Bless drew her lips into a deep, soulful kiss while his hard cock rubbed against her throbbing clit. Their tongues danced together in an erotic rhythm that elevated Collyn’s body temperature. Spreading her legs wide, Bless slipped in one finger and twirled it inside her wetness, causing her to moan.

  “Goddamn, look at how wet you are,” he said, sliding in a second finger. “How you gon’ tell me you weren’t gon’ give me none of this pussy?” He slid a third finger inside her and started pumping. Collyn lifted her hips and matched the rhythm of his fingers.

  “Pussy over here callin’ my name,” Bless continued.

  “Baby, I was just playin’.”

  “Playin’, huh? Well, let me show you how I play.” He eased down her belly, French-kissed her navel, and continued on to placing sloppy wet kisses in, out, and in between her center. “Hold them fat lips open.” He kissed them. “Hold ’em open,” he commanded.

  Collyn reached down and spread her pussy lips, giving him room to lick all of it all while his fingers continued to pump in and out of her.

  “That’ll teach you to play with me.” His tongue quickened its pace, causing her first orgasm to kiss his lips.

  “Roll over,” he instructed her.

  She obeyed and lay on her belly.

  He rubbed his hardness across her ass and slowly eased his dick in. Collyn threw her head back, and a sigh of relief fell from her lips.

  He reached forward, gave her breasts a hard squeeze, and thrust into her. Her ass bounced against his shaft, and in no time at all the Navigator was rocking on the side of the highway and she was screaming his name.

  “That’s right, baby, show me how much you want it.” He pounded, her ass popping against him. “Shit, I’m ’bout cum.” His thrusting quickened. Collyn screamed and her sugar walls collapsed.

  A second later, Bless growled out his release and collapsed against her back, whispering, “This shit is dangerous.”

  Monday stood in the parlor watching Kenyatta in the kitchen as he leaned against the picture window. It had been close to five months since Eve disappeared and Kenyatta was still telling the same lie. Nothing had changed, only the day.

  Monday walked softly into the kitchen before realizing Kenyatta was on the phone. “I can’t see you tonight,” he said, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. “Look, I know you want to be with me. But not right now, tomorrow.”

  “Why can’t you be with the bitch now?” Monday spat. She knocked him on his shoulder, causi
ng him to fall forward against the picture window.

  He quickly turned around. “What the fuck—?”

  “Oh, you cussin’ at me and you got some bitch on the phone? You tryna flex for a bitch?” Monday ran toward him and snatched the phone. “Who the fuck is this?” she screamed into the receiver, and the person quickly hung up. Monday turned to Kenyatta and flung the phone at him, barely missing the maid, who had come into the kitchen. Immediately Monday apologized. “Mary, I’m so sorry.”

  “But wat de hell is dis?” Mary spat in a thick Trinidadian accent. She looked at the phone that had slammed against the floor so hard it was in pieces. Her golden face was red as she blinked. “Jesus.” She made the sign of the cross on her chest. “You know if dat woulda hit me in me head we woulda had a problem.” She sucked her teeth long and hard.

  Monday and Kenyatta both stopped dead in their tracks and blinked. Mary had been with them for years, and though they knew she was from Trinidad, they’d never thought about it, at least until now. After clearing her throat, Mary quickly returned to her role. “Ms. Hudson James is here to see you.”

  Kenyatta frowned and his eyes revealed that he was taken aback. “What?”

  Although Mary was doing her best to be polite, it was obvious that she wasn’t in the mood for his shit. “Would you like me to show her in?”

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Hudson said as she stormed into the kitchen with a milky white stain running down the front of her blouse. She walked over to the sink and wet a paper towel. Cleaning herself, she said, “Thanks, Mary.”

  “Are you still breast-feeding?” Monday snapped.

  “No.” Hudson frowned. “It’s from the baby’s bottle.”

  “I take it I can leave now.” Mary nodded and excused herself.

  “We should just get to the point,” Hudson said. “I spoke with Mehki and a few of the other attorneys and it doesn’t look good. We should’ve thought this out before we decided to fire Charles. Because now the feds want to do an audit and I’m not sure how things are looking.”

  “I told you, you shouldn’t have done that anyway,” Monday said.

  “Monday,” Kenyatta said, “this doesn’t concern you.”

  Monday looked at Hudson, embarrassed about the way her husband had spoken to her, “Who are you talking to?”

  “Don’t question me, Monday.”

  “Excuse me—” Mary interrupted.

  “What?” they all snapped, and Mary stepped back.

  She swallowed. “There’s a Mr. Bless Shields here to see you, sir.”

  “What is he doing here?” Kenyatta arched his eyebrows.

  “I invited him,” Hudson said. “Thanks, Mary. Show him in.”

  “Why the hell is she inviting people to our house?” Monday exclaimed.

  Kenyatta turned to Monday. “Chill.”

  “Whatever.” She stormed over to the counter and poured herself a glass of water.

  Bless walked into the kitchen, and Monday frowned at him.

  Bless smirked. “I’m fine and you?”

  Monday shot him a quick fake smile. “I’m well.”

  “I can tell.” Bless nodded toward Hudson and gave Kenyatta a handshake. “I’ve been trying to reach you for a minute. Where have you been?”

  “A little tied up. Wassup?”

  “What do you mean, wassup? I got a call from my assistant last night who said that you needed the signed contracts today.”

  “Me?” Kenyatta said, surprised.

  “Yes,” Hudson answered. “I thought we needed them so that the waterfront construction can already be in operation when the books are looked at.”

  “You gave him another contract?” Monday snapped.

  “What the fuck did I just tell you?” Kenyatta squinted at Monday, “You gon’ mess around and I’ma make you go upstairs.”

  “Make me? Well maybe you should, because I really need to see this.”

  “Excuse us.” Kenyatta looked at Monday and grabbed her by the arm. He walked her roughly into the hall. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “When the hell did you get disrespectful to the point where you think you can talk to me like that? I don’t appreciate that shit! I’m not that missing-ass ho in the street. I’m your wife!”

  Kenyatta cleared his throat. “Then act like my wife and shut the fuck up.”

  “What?” Monday felt like he’d just backhanded her. “I can’t believe I was still looking out for your benefit and here you are…you will never change.”

  “Looking out for my benefit how?” he said sarcastically, “by nagging me?”

  “Fuck you.” And she turned away.

  Kenyatta snatched her back, “What are you talking about? What do you mean looking out for my benefit?”

  Monday hesitated. She wanted to spit in his face, but there was something in his eyes and everytime she looked at him, she felt like this would be the one time she could save him…even if it was from himself. “I shouldn’t tell your ass shit. I should let Hudson do her job—”

  “Would you just say it!”

  “Look, it’s not personal, because I don’t know him like that, but if you want to work with him and he’s really cool, then have him set up a front, a business that doesn’t seem as if he owns it.”

  “Why?” Kenyatta asked, genuinely interested.

  “This way no one can say you’re setting up bids and getting kickbacks. The company will look new and it’ll seem like you’re giving everyone a chance.”

  Kenyatta paced for a moment and tapped his foot. Why hadn’t he thought of the front? He looked at her, turned around and left her standing there. He went back to the kitchen, and she heard him tell Hudson and Bless everything she’d just said, as if it were his idea. Hudson said, “I’ll get right on that.” Even in her home, she was on the outside looking in. But then again, this was the mayor’s mansion.

  She could hear their laughter and Kenyatta’s spin on her ideas bounce around the room as she went upstairs grabbed her purse, and left.

  The cool evening air blew into Monday’s mahogany face, and her hair whipped along the sides of her cheeks as she rode through Harlem, thinking, sightseeing, and appreciating its beauty.

  Monday pulled into the parking lot of Eunice’s, a small diner that she and Kenyatta frequented when they first moved to New York. Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “Midnight Train to Georgia” played over the sound system as the waitress asked her, “How are you today, Mrs. Smith?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you here.”

  Monday smiled. She hadn’t heard that in a while. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  “A cold Uptown please.”

  “You got it.” The waitress left the table and Monday heard her say, “Hey, Mehki, your order is at the counter.”

  Monday quickly turned around. His back was facing her.

  “Working late?” The waitress asked him as she stepped behind the register and rang up his total.

  “Yeah.” He smiled, “You know how it is, a black man’s work is never done.”

  The waitress blushed, “Especially one who works as hard as you.”

  Monday smirked. She wasn’t sure if she was pissed that the waitress was flirting with him or that he seemed to be enjoying it. She did what she could to suppress the jealousy that crept into her chest, besides—no matter how fine he was and how much her pussy ached and her nipples hardened at the sight of him—she was married—but then again, what the fuck did that mean?

  She watched Mehki grab the white plastic bag, which contained his food and had THANK YOU written in red letters across it. He winked his eye at the waitress and turned toward the door.

  As he left and the door swung behind him, his silk tie hung loosely around his neck and the cuffs of his starched sage shirt were flipped up to his elbows. The beautifully dark waves in his hair spun like a charismatic rhythm, while the sexiness of his body alwa
ys spoke for itself.

  He crossed the street and walked into a tall and all brick office building with floor to ceiling windows, black metal railings, a copper awning above the door, and an all glass entrance, which read in gold script: DAVIS, PARKER, AND LASSITER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW.

  Damn, Monday thought as she immediately became torn between being Kenyatta’s faithful yet neglected wife or fulfilling an aching and ambiguous yearning for something different than her marriage and the man she chose. It’s not that she didn’t love her husband or want to make her marriage work, but given all the things that had been happening, she wondered what was she really working for. And the more Kenyatta did things that made her question why she loved him, and the more he lied and continued to lie, the more disrespectful he became, and the more he disregarded her, the more she wanted to test the waters and see…if just maybe…this pretty motherfucker, Mehki, was exactly who his swagger represented him to be.

  “Anything else?” the waitress said, cutting through her thoughts and placing her drink on the table.

  “No, thank you.” Monday said, never taking her eyes from the building, “This is fine.” She wrapped her fingers around the cold glass and the melting frost moistened her palms and slid over her fingers. Monday held the rim of the glass to her chin, wondering if she had anything more to lose than her curiosity. Deciding that at least at this moment she didn’t, she placed ten dollars on the table and left.

  A few moments later she was standing in front of a dark mahogany door with a gleaming silver and engraved nameplate that read, MEHKI DAVIS, ESQ.

  Monday sucked in her stomach and tugged a little at the hem of her teal strapless dress that gathered slightly around the breasts and had a midthigh pencil skirt that rode her hips just right. Her four-inch Manolos made her apple bottom look beyond ripe. She held her matching trench coat in the crux of her right arm and her petite Chanel purse in the palm of her left hand.

  She knocked lightly on the door at first and then a little harder.

  “Good night, Helen.” Mehki yelled from behind the door, “I’ll see you in the morning.”