Torino spoke up. “Chill out, Claude. I thought Colette smiled at her after she said it.”
Claude gave her the eye. “She needs to open her mouth.”
Colette spoke while still looking down at her plate. “Thanks, Venus.”
“No problem,” Venus replied.
Torino swallowed a sip of lemonade and asked, “Anyway, Claude, what’s got you going today?”
“Not a thing. I had a great day.”
“Seems you’re always a little cranky when you’re in this house” Torino added.
“What are you trying to say?” Claude inquired.
“Just that it seems like you’re never in a good mood at dinner.” Torino put a forkful of pasta in his mouth.
Mason spoke up. “Okay now gentlemen, would you mind cutting the arrow throwing in my house. All of this because Colette didn’t respond to a compliment?”
“Really,” said Torino while chewing.
Venus tried to detour the conversation. “Mercedes, this meal is really good. I’ve never tried chicken made this way.”
“I’m glad you like it,” said Mercedes, until she noticed Claude beginning to speak again.
“Dad taught us to respect and support our women.”
Torino was calm. “You support yours, and I’ll support mine.”
Mercedes interposed, “Anyway, people, we do have teenagers at the table. Show them how we can all get along.”
“Teenagers pick up on that nonsense, too. That’s just why Colette’s not welcomed in my house with that crap,” Claude stated.
“No problem,” Torino replied. “You can rest assured of that.”
Mattie could not hold her comment any longer. “I’m about to take the two of you over my knee and tan your hides. Acting like you’re still six years old. Wait until your daddy gets home.”
Rashaad and Star laughed, obviously getting a kick out of the goings on. Mercedes gave them a look.
“What’s all this I hear about your big event at the club on Saturday night, Mason?” Venus asked, feeling a bit of sweat building up over her lip. She dabbed her mouth with her lap napkin.
Mason explained, “It’s a tribute from a role models’ organization, and I’m also giving a few performers a chance to showcase their music. I’ve invited a couple of producers so hopefully they can get lucky and work out a deal if they’re good enough.”
Venus told him, “That sounds like fun.”
“You will be there, right?” Mason asked Venus.
“Count us in,” said Venus. “Right, baby?” she asked Claude.
“Right,” he replied with reserve.
“And you, Colette?” asked Mason.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Colette said smiling.
“Well, it sounds like it’s going to be a nice evening out,” Venus interjected.
“Can we go, Mom?” asked Rashaad.
Mercedes shook her head no. “That club is twenty-one and over.”
“Even if Uncle Torino lets us in?” asked Star.
“Did you tell them they could go?” Mason asked Torino.
“As long as they stay in the restaurant area, they’ll be fine.”
Claude repeatedly shook his head at Torino and continued eating.
Mason said, “No way. No one under twenty-one in that club. I don’t want any problems, bro. Thanks for trying to make it work but I’m afraid not.”
“Dad,” Star begged.
“No.” Mason was firm.
“What are you going to wear, Colette?” asked Venus. “Did you and Mercedes find anything in the mall the other day?”
“No,” Colette said, looking at her plate. “And how did your family like all of the stuff you bought them?” She looked toward the group. “She was really loaded down at the mall, you know, with Jordans and jewelry.”
“We liked it just fine,” Claude answered for Venus.
“It was a surprise, Colette,” Venus said, looking disappointed.
Colette went on and spoke to Claude like she had cotton in her ears. “Kind of pleases you and Cameron when she does stuff like that, huh?”
“None of your damn business,” Claude answered.
“Claude, what is your problem?” Torino asked, placing his fork down on his plate.
“The problem is your significant other who serves no significance whatsoever. Man, I’m out of here.” Claude scooted his chair out and put his napkin on his plate. “You really need to shake this one. She’s not fit to be at this table, let alone in this family. And just so you know, Colette, my lady is too much of a lady to say this so I will. If you have a problem, be woman enough to bring it up. Don’t dance all around it like some chicken.” He stood up and walked away from the table. “Let’s go, Venus.”
Venus got up as well. “I’m coming, baby. Mercedes, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for dinner.”
“Good night,” Mercedes said, rubbing her forehead.
Torino looked as though his jaw was firming. “Colette, come on.” He told Mercedes, “Were gonna go, too. I’m gonna walk her to her car and then turn in. Talk to you later. Thanks.”
Mercedes and Mason sat staring at each other as everyone left and Star and Rashaad got up from the table.
Mattie spoke next. “My boy Claude really loves that girl.”
“I’d say he does, Mom,” replied Mason.
Chapter 5
Before Mason left town again, and after a little prompting from Mercedes, they decided to hit the town. Mason agreed to hang out but only if they ended the night his way after dinner. And his way consisted of the private, exclusive, champagne room of his buddy’s club called T & A. Tonight, Mercedes let her hair down, in more ways than one.
The scantily clad dancer worked her moves like a professional. Mason and Mercedes sat at the front row table of the dimly lit, tiny, private blue room just as the stripper began to work her first song. The long, tall, golden dancer stepped on stage and quickly grabbed the steel pole, making it her friend.
Mercedes’s eyes were fixed upon the girl’s rear end in wonder. “Where in the hell did she get a backside like that?” Mercedes asked Mason. Mason was unable to reply from his dropped jaw.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next dancer, Mènage,” said the energetic announcer slash disc jockey.
The skimpily dressed waitress, who looked like she could be a dancer herself, placed a glass of orange juice and a glass of nonalcoholic beer on the tiny round table just as Mènage stared in Mason’s direction and then she focused upon Mercedes.
Mason spoke to his woman, pulling out a wad of ten-dollar bills. “Here, baby. Give her these.”
“Oh, no, you go right ahead,” Mercedes replied, staring at the money and then eyeballing the dancer’s gyrating rear that was within three inches of her face.
“Put it in her G-string, Cedes,” Mason said, handing her the bills and then sipping the juice with his other hand.
“That’s perfectly fine, you go right ahead,” Mercedes said.
Mason did just that, slipping two bills, folded longways into the thong running down the crack of her ass. The bills disappeared into the depth of the dancer’s gluteus maximus.
Mènage decided to make an about face and break down to her knees, moving in toward Mercedes’s face with her round breasts.
Mercedes’s glance was more full on and deliberate than before. She took in a deep breath and blew her exhale through her mouth. The beer she was pouring dripped onto her hand along the outside of the glass. She stopped pouring but never looked down. She placed the bottle on the table and scooted her butt down into her seat, still managing to lean her torso forward at the same time.
Mercedes inhaled and smelled Mènage’s skin drenched with Champagne by Yves Saint Laurent. The words, “You smell great,” escaped from her lips without an ounce of knowledge from Mercedes.
“Thanks, sweetie. Is this your woman?” asked Manage, breaking for a half second to direct her inquiry to Mason.
“
That’s my wife,” said Mason with a full-out hard-on.
“She’s pretty. You two look like Michael and Juanita Jordan up in here.”
“Compliments will get you everything,” replied Mason.
Mènage backed away from Mercedes and gave Mason a bit of breast action himself. “Actually, you look like Mason Wilson, the golfer,” she whispered.
“Even more complimentary,” he said with a grin.
Mènage moved back into Mercedes’s very existence, flipping her curly, jet-black hair over Mercedes’s hair for privacy and whispered in her ear, “Mrs. Wilson. How do you like it?” asked Mènage.
“My husband is the one who likes it. But I must say, you are very talented.”
Mènage backed away to make direct eye contact. “Can I straddle your husband later on with a lap dance?”
“Now you’re trying to take all my man’s money, huh.” Mercedes took her glass and guzzled a few swallows in one.
“This one would be on me,” Mènage said.
“I think I can fulfill that fantasy for him, but thanks.”
Mènage backed away farther with both eyes fixed upon Mercedes. She then made her way to the next group of high-profile patrons. Five hot, excited, loud men in business suits who owned a baseball team.
Mason told his woman, “I think she likes you.”
“I admire women who can shed their inhibitions and let it all hang out like that,” Mercedes replied as “Doin It” by LL Cool J played in the background.
“You know you could dance up there right along with them, baby. Your body is just as good as hers,” Mason complimented.
“Mason, please. Compliments are accepted, but I keep it real. Three small facts like having babies, fast approaching my forties, and about fifty pounds rule out any runway dancing for me.”
“That’s just my opinion.”
Mènage’s second song was over. She picked up her leather bra and scooped up her dollar bills, picking up quite a few next to Mason and Mercedes. Mercedes reached in her own purse and handed Mènage a fifty-dollar bill.
“You deserve this. Job well done,” Mercedes said with a hush.
“Thanks, baby. Turned on for the night?”
“My husband is,” Mercedes replied.
Mènage smiled at the couple and exited the stage as another dancer, wearing a rhinestone outfit that looked like dental floss, began bumping and grinding her way down the short runway.
“Girlfriend needs a little more meat on her bones,” Mason said, finishing off his juice.
Mercedes looked around the room. “Am I the only woman in here?”
“Tonight it looks like it. I thought we’d have a more private area.”
“Let’s go Mason. It’s time I gave you your own private dance.” Mercedes put her Prada purse under her arm and stood up.
Mason agreed. “We’re out,” he said as some of the men glanced their way.
They exited quietly and stood in line for their car.
Mercedes noticed a bright flash. “What was that?” she asked as the valet brought Mason’s Porsche around. Mason held the door open for her.
Mason commented. “Some damn paparazzi thinking he’s slick. I saw that light bulb go off.”
Later that evening, Mercedes was still stuck on the thought of the flashing camera. “Baby, doesn’t that bother you. I mean anywhere but at a strip club.”
“You know I don’t go anywhere I don’t want to be seen. And there is nothing wrong with being seen with my wife.”
“Okay then. If you say so.”
“I say so.” Mason pressed the CD remote and the song “You Sure Love to Ball” by Marvin Gaye played on the surround sound stereo in Mason and Mercedes’s bedroom.
Mason sang along, “Pretty little sexy mamma, you sure love to ball.” He watched his thick, curvy wife work her round hips in a sexy circle while he sat on the end of the bed. She removed her sheer lace lavender robe exposing her nudity and threw it on top of the round brass bedpost. She worked her moves with ease, almost as though she’d learned a few moves watching Mènage, the strip expert.
Mason sang again, “Turn around, I’ll love you night and day.” He started to grab her and she backed away, doing a half turn move of her own, ending up with her ass to his face. “You’re my foxy lady,” he sang along with Marvin as though singing a duet.
Mercedes lowered her body, putting her hands on her knees and stuck her butt out, gyrating it in Mason’s face. “Damn, that must be jelly because jam don’t shake like that,” he said. “That’s just the way I like it.” Mason could not contain himself. “Now you know I’m an ass man, baby. Don’t be so mean. Show ’em what you’re working with.” He grabbed her around her waist and pulled her down as he lay on his back. She turned over and then sat up, gazing into his brown eyes as the next cut from the Bedroom Ballads CD started to play “It’s All Right” by Chante Moore.
Mercedes felt Mason’s warm skin against her round, wide buttocks and rubbed herself against his pubic area back and forth, accompanied by his hands on her rear end to assist the grind. She threw her arms into the air, closed her eyes and sang, “Hello my love, before the sun rises, after it goes down, I love ya, I love ya, I say it over and over again, I love ya, hey, hey, hey. Relax your mind, we can be free together, take our time.”
She silenced herself as she felt Mason’s finger exploring deep inside her moist walls while she straddled him and rubbed her P-bone on his hardness.
“Oh, I’m going to take my time all right,” Mason said, moving in syncopation with his wife.
After his wetness test, she said, “But I’d say I’m ready for you now, baby. What do you say?” She lowered her torso down to meet her husband’s upper body, exacting their chests nipple to nipple.
“No, I think you need some more lubrication,” Mason suggested in a low tone.
“Like what?”
“Sit on my face, Cedes. Move on up here so I can taste you.”
“Oh, baby, now you know what that does to me.”
“Come on. Bring that leg on up over my shoulder,” he urged.
Mercedes raised her body upward and straddled Mason’s face with her shaven cha-cha that always smelled of baby oil. She looked down between her smoldering legs and could only see his eyes—closed shut. She felt his mouth, warm and wet, accompanied by his long, strong tongue, protruding inside of her and licking her opening.
“Mason, wait. For some reason, I can’t take this tonight.”
Mason did not reply. He placed his hands on each of her butt cheeks and pushed her middle deeper into his face. Mercedes grabbed the headboard with tight-gripped palms to steady her body and her mind. Her legs began to quiver but she still tried to grind along with his expertise.
“Uuhhhmh, Mason,” she groaned through the shivering lips of her mouth, silenced by the sensation rushing to her tiny point as he flicked her pearl.
Mason pulled his head back to adjust the pillow under his neck and then returned to pleasing his wife. Her licked her diamond and then sucked it, feeling her shudder and then moved down to her hole. He stopped to ask, “You liked Mènage, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” Mercedes responded.
“Show me how much you liked her. I’ll bet she’d do a better job at this than me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mercedes said, while Mason resumed his shenanigans against her opening.
Mercedes turned to catch her own reflection in the dresser mirror. All she could see was her own plump, dark brown ass, pumping away at Mason’s face. She imagined one of Mason’s male employees under her, licking her into freak mode, and Mènage sucking his penis at the same time. Her thrust increased as she watched the massive hands squeezing her mahogany backside. She positioned herself more securely and pumped deeper and deeper into her fantasy. She closed her eyes and her moans grew in volume and intensity.
Mason ate it like a vulture, moaning in reply to her ability to escape and enjoy. He moaned, “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” to accompan
y her desires. As he sucked her through her orgasm, Mercedes squeezed her throb into his mouth with force and held onto the headboard again for dear life, lightly banging it against the wall with each forward motion until her wave subsided. She wiped her forehead with her wrist and backed away from Mason’s face to expose his full-on smile.
Her man felt proud of himself. Proud for pleasing his wife and proud for knowing after all these years, he still knew how to hit the spot.
“Do you think the kids heard us?” asked Mercedes, suddenly returning back to the present.
“I don’t think so. You kept it down pretty well. Besides, they’re on the other side of this dang-goned house, woman.”
Mercedes carefully slipped down onto Mason’s stiffness, still reeling from the strain of her flexed leg muscles, allowing her hot, post orgasm walls to take him in. She closed her eyes again. This time, “My First Love” by Tamia was accompanying their heated vibes for each other.
Mason closed his eyes as well and let her go to work. She leaned down flat upon his chest and rode him like a black pony. Mason moved her up to allow her nipples to fall into his open mouth, while sliding his tongue across her fullness and licking her tawny colored areola. She felt him growing and growing, knowing this throb meant it was about to happen. She lowered herself slightly to find his lips, exchanging tongue with wide-opened mouths. His wand protruded and widened with an increasing motion just as she released herself from their kiss. She sat up straight and took on his full enjoyment, giving steady, full up and down motion to welcome his juices, hearing her own rear flap against his thighs.
Mason was silent, almost holding his breath through his discharge as she then felt him gradually decrease in size. She laid on top of his chest, placing her head along his neck. They fell asleep in that position for an hour or so until Mason turned her over and tucked her in. He turned his back to her and gave in to his relaxation, joining her slumber and satisfaction as if in heaven.
Early the next morning, Mason heard the loud, starding ring of a telephone in his mind. He answered it, yanking it from its cradle, only to have the continuous ringing persist. Mercedes picked it up as he continued to sleep.
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