These Are My Confessions

by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome

  More flowers came to the suite. Not a lot of them, but enough to seem a little strange. I let Leslie do the honors again of collecting all the cards and seeing who they were from. None were from Spock, but I didn’t care. I generally like flowers, but there is such a thing as overkill, and my allergies were starting to act up. It was also starting to feel like a damn funeral. I donated most of them to the cleaning staff and hotel employees and didn’t bother to ask who they were from. Leslie didn’t tell me either, she just kept her BlackBerry plastered to her ear.

  The glam squad arrived, and after the obligatory hours of primping and preening, the big moment had finally arrived. It was time to head to the party. Leslie radioed the security guards she hired for the night, who were stationed outside my door. Three burly guys came lumbering into the suite, facial expressions gruff and mean.

  “What’s with all the bodyguard stuff?” I asked her. Usually one guy was enough.

  “I just want to make sure that you’re safe. You’re a lot more famous than you seem to realize sometimes. It’s part of your life now,” she explained.

  “I don’t think all this is necessary. It feels weird,” I said.

  “Get used to it,” she told me.

  I went along with it even though it seemed like the bodyguards were a bit much. It made me seem like I was trying too hard to look like I was a star, but Leslie was steadfast in her decision. The bodyguards escorted us into a private elevator and then into a waiting Bentley. Two of them rode in the car with us and another rode in a separate car that trailed behind us. I felt like the President or something, and the whole thing was making me nervous.

  “You’re going to knock them dead,” Leslie assured me, rubbing me on the back. I took a deep breath and poured myself a glass of champagne.

  “To me!” I exclaimed.

  “To you!” Leslie said, toasting me.

  “And to you too,” I said, leaning over and hugging her. “You’re the best publicist a diva could have.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” she said, laughing, as we drank our bubbly.

  Spotlights flooded the sky and Hummers painted with my image and CD cover patrolled the streets around the club. There were traffic cops out making sure things went as smoothly as possible. There was a line around the corner of the club. People were dying to get inside to kick it with me. I was dripping in diamonds and looking flawless, and thanks to about two hours of preparation, it looked as if it were natural and effortless. My makeup and my hair were perfect, and my dress by Chicago designer Barbara Bates fit me like a second skin.

  I tore that red carpet up. The photographers were already clicking away at the celebs who came to celebrate my success and were in the house, but they really went crazy when I showed up, pushing and shoving each other and calling my name. I posed and twirled and showed off my dress and body, knowing precisely what angles to position my limbs and hips in order to accentuate my hourglass shape. And when I stepped inside, everything was exactly as I imagined it would be. Every detail had been attended to, the club looked amazing and everyone seemed to be having a fantastic time.

  I greeted my fans and the press and my guests with enthusiasm and appreciation. Chicago had come through for me, after all, and the athletes and entertainers who showed up added to the star factor. The DJ was off the hook and had everybody dancing until they were dripping in sweat.

  “I told you that you had nothing to worry about,” Leslie screamed over the blaring music.

  “Who was worried?” I kidded her.

  “Think you can handle yourself?” she asked. “I love you, but I want to mix and mingle.”

  “Do your thing,” I encouraged her.

  “Security will roll with you,” she informed me.

  “I’m good,” I told her.

  “I insist,” Leslie said. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” she told my bodyguards. “Not even to go to the bathroom,” she added, and then disappeared into the crowd.

  Leslie was being overprotective. There was nothing but love there. I surveyed the room. I saw a lot of people from high school, girls who didn’t like me and guys who ignored me, and I ran into a couple of guys I used to date, and oddly enough I didn’t feel like throwing my success in their faces like I thought I would. I was happy; there was no reason to make anyone else miserable.

  After an hour or so of getting reacquainted with old friends and hanging out, I decided to seek refuge from the crowd in my private VIP room. It was more like an oversized booth with a huge bed in it and heavy silk curtains that could be pulled shut to shield you from the crowd. It was perfect for what I had in mind. I looked in my purse to check my phone and see if I had missed calls or texts. Of course I was checking to see if Spock had called, but he hadn’t. I sent him a text.

  When r u coming to my party?

  A little while later I received his reply:

  Already here. Where r u?

  I gave him directions to my private booth and instructed one of the bodyguards to make sure he got to me with no problem and to make sure we wouldn’t be disturbed once he did. I was all smiles when he slipped inside.

  “Hello, Songbird,” he said, hugging me and holding me tight. Even over the deafening noise of the party, I could hear the desire in his voice.

  “Hello,” I said. “I ordered a bottle of your favorite.” I motioned to the huge bottle of Bombay Sapphire sitting on the cocktail table.

  “Damn, that’s a big bottle.”

  “Well, I want to get you pissy drunk so I can take advantage of you and make you my sex slave,” I told him with a wink.

  “You don’t have to get me drunk in order to get that,” he replied.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked him.

  “No doubt. Your wish is my command. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to please you.” He leaned forward and kissed me. Then he put my hand on his crotch and whispered, “I jacked my dick this morning thinking about the taste of your pussy. My dick has been hard all day thinking about you.”

  My body shivered.

  “But I don’t just want your body. I want all of you. I need all of you, Lucky. I want it to be right this time. Can we take it slow and get it right? I can’t let you walk out of my life again.”

  I thought about how much his infidelity hurt me, and how he didn’t in my opinion try hard enough to make things up to me when he got busted. He was ruining the mood.

  “Why talk about this all of a sudden? You didn’t want to talk to me when you got caught cheating. Let’s just forget about that and enjoy each other.” It didn’t matter who else he was or wasn’t fucking. I was horny. I hiked up my dress and spread my legs. “Don’t tell me how you feel. Show me,” I said.

  Whatever had been on his mind before was pushed aside. He stared at me, shaking his head.

  “What are you waiting for?” I asked him.

  He pushed me back onto the bed and pulled the straps of my dress from my shoulders, exposing my breasts.

  “I want you so much,” he said.

  “Don’t talk,” I told him. I guided his mouth to my nipples. He sucked them attentively, making sure to increase and decrease the pressure, wetness, and suction, according to my body’s response.

  “You were always so good at that,” I whispered before pushing him away. “But you were always good at something else too.” I carefully removed the dress and laid it neatly on the corner of the bed.

  “Take my panties off,” I requested, and he did as I wanted, slowly and deliberately.

  “Now, take off my shoes.” He slid each of my shoes off and cradled my feet in his hands. “Suck them,” I told him, lifting my toes to his mouth. He smiled and did as I asked. His tongue glided between my toes as he sucked each one gently in his mouth. He licked my instep and kissed my ankle. Then he repeated his actions with my other foot.

  “I want you to eat it.” I spread my legs wide so there’d be no doubt as to what I was referring to.

  He licked his way up my calf and up my inner th
igh in little circles. Then he spread my lips and swirled his tongue slowly around my clitoris.

  “That’s right,” I told him. “Like that.” He licked me softly and I squeezed his head between my thighs.

  “Give me more,” I sighed.

  He nibbled and sucked at my clit, applying more pressure, and then inserting his fingers inside me and stroking my G-spot. I came almost instantly, but still wanted more.

  “Now take your clothes off. I want to look at you,” I ordered breathlessly.

  He hesitated. “What if someone sees me?” he asked.

  “You’re worried about that now?” I asked back. “Look, my security isn’t going to let anyone in. Now get naked,” I ordered. I could tell he wanted to protest, but I spread my legs and began to play with my clit and he got back on track.

  The sounds of hardcore gangsta rap blared through the club’s speakers as he slowly peeled off his clothes until he had nothing on. I could tell by the way he was walking toward me—like a man on a mission—that he wanted and expected me to give him head. I wasn’t going to, at least not now, not because I didn’t want to, but because I was getting off on the feeling of being in control. Plus I had a special treat in store for him if he could follow instructions.

  “Get a condom,” I said, and he did even though I could tell he was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be getting a blowjob. Once the condom was on, he mounted me, entering me slowly. We both groaned as he filled me up and began to move slowly inside of me.

  “You like that pussy, don’t you?” I asked him.

  “You know I love that pussy, girl.”

  “You missed this pussy, didn’t you?”

  “You know I missed it. I missed it so much, I can’t let you go again,” he said as he pushed himself deeper and deeper and I got wetter and wetter.

  “Ooh, you don’t want to let me go, do you?” he asked. “I can feel you gripping my dick. I know you don’t want to let me go.”

  I squeezed and clenched my muscles, gripping him so tightly that I could feel him throbbing inside of me. He gave a few thrusts before pulling out and flipping me over onto all fours. Inch by inch he entered me from behind, working my clit with one hand and caressing my breast with the other. Every stroke made my body shake and twitch as I threw my hips at him. I needed him deeper and deeper inside of me.

  “Mmm, fuck me harder,” I pleaded. “Give me all of that big ass dick.”

  He pounded and pounded me from behind to the rhythm of the thumping bass pulsating through the club.

  “I want you to fuck me, baby,” I told him again. “And when you come, I want you to come in my mouth.”

  This comment sent Spock into overdrive, and he fucked me harder, spanking me on the ass hard. He slapped and slapped until my skin was sore and I begged him to stop and to come in my mouth. Finally he pulled out of me, yanked the rubber off, and shot a forceful load of semen into my awaiting mouth. I swallowed every drop.

  “I want more,” I said, smiling at him.

  “Oh my God,” he said, out of breath. “You’re a nympho!”

  “Yep,” I agreed with him. I reached for his penis and he pulled away.

  “I think we should continue this in another venue,” he suggested, and began pulling his clothes back on. “I’ve got some things I want to do to you.” I pouted and reluctantly pulled my clothes back on. I was so horny I could have fucked him all night in that VIP booth. And I wanted him so bad that I couldn’t wait the time it would take to get to his house; my hotel was closer. Besides, we’d already wasted an opportunity to utilize my gorgeous suite with our tryst in the parking lot. I wasn’t going to let another one go by the wayside.

  “I’ve got a great suite. You didn’t get a chance to see it the other night. Let’s go,” I suggested.

  We caught up to Leslie and I informed her of my plans.

  “Looks like you already got started,” she said, smoothing my hair, which was probably standing out all over my head. “Go on and get out of here before somebody sees you looking crazy!”

  “I don’t look that bad,” I said to her.

  “You don’t look that good either.”

  “Well I feel good,” I said, raising my eyebrows at her. She laughed and gave me a hug. “I’m out.”

  “Take Security with you,” she told me.

  “We’re just going to the hotel,” I told her. If anyone was going to need a bodyguard, it was going to be Spock. I was going to tear his ass up.

  “Have them follow you.”

  “I don’t want to. I might want to do something freaky to him in the car. It’s not that serious, Leslie, I’ll be okay. Spock is with me.” I grabbed his bicep. “He’ll guard my body.”

  Leslie looked like she was debating, but there would have been no point in her doing so. I was going to do what I wanted, which was get the hell out of the crowded club and somewhere more private.

  “Go straight to the car and straight to the suite. Don’t sign any autographs. Got it?” she asked.

  “Got it.”

  Spock and I made our way outside the club, holding hands as we waited for the attendant to pull his car around to the valet stand.

  “Which whip are you in tonight, Mr. Big Stuff?” I asked him.

  “The Cayenne,” he said. “Why, you wanna repeat of last night?” He pulled me close to him, and as we were about to kiss, we were interrupted by someone calling my name.

  “Lucky! Luuuuuccckkkkaaaayyyyy! Lucky, Lucky, Lucky!” the voice screamed. I tried to ignore the voice and kissed Spock. Then I heard the scream again. It was the most irritating sound ever.

  “I know you hear me, Lady Luck! Hey, Ms. Singer Lady! I know you’re not going to leave the party without saying ’bye to me!” I turned around with a practiced but gracious smile on my face. I’d deal with this fan quickly and then get back to the real business at hand.

  In front of us stood a man who looked like stir-fried shit. He was so broke down he made Old Dirty look like a high fashion model. His hair was matted and hung down his back in unkempt, ill-formed, oddly shaped dreadlocks. A couple of his front teeth were missing, and the remaining ones were yellow, brown, or black with rot and decay. His Sean John sweatsuit was torn and dirty, and he stank with the funk of forty thousand years. A crackhead, no doubt.

  “Have a good night,” I said with a cheery wave and a smile. I looked him directly in the eyes because I think that it’s disrespectful not to make eye contact with someone just because they’re homeless or have issues. You never know who could be an angel in disguise. I studied the dirty face a little harder and recoiled in shock. It looked like my ex-boyfriend Cali. It couldn’t be!

  “Don’t tell me you forgot your first love?” the grizzled man asked.

  Holy Golden Gate Bridge, Batman! It was Cali!

  “Did you get my flowers?” he asked.

  “Fl-fl-flowers?” I stammered.

  “I went through a whole lot to get you those flowers. I got your favorite: tulips. I stole a credit card to get you all those goddamned flowers.” Cali’s voice began to escalate.

  “Thank you,” I said, nervously looking around. Where was that damned valet? I tightened my grip on Spock’s hand.

  “Are you okay?” Spock asked me.

  “Yeah, she’s okay,” Cali said to him. “I’m her first love. She gonna always be okay when she’s with me. Ain’t that right?” he asked me.

  “What happened to you?” I asked. It wasn’t that I cared about him so much as that I was curious. He had clearly fallen all the way off.

  “As you can see, I’m a little down,” he said. “I invested in a record company with these hustlers and to make a long story short I lost everything. But it can all be different now. We can get back together and pick up where we left off. I wrote some new stuff for you to sing. It’s gonna be hot. So why don’t you leave this clown and come on with me where you belong.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” I told him. “This ain’t ‘What’s
Love Got to Do with It?’ You can’t just come into my life after all this time. Not like this.”

  “But I need your help,” he said, looking helpless. I felt a little sorry for him. I took a deep breath and thought about what I saw. I exhaled, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say.

  “Okay, well that’s different. I can get you into rehab or something. I can help get you cleaned up and get your life back on track, but I can’t be with you again, and we aren’t going to work together. You need to focus on you,” I said gently, walking toward him. “You deserve better than this.”

  “Lucky.” Spock spoke my name but nothing else. He grabbed my hand to prevent me from getting any closer to Cali.

  “Who is this clown?” Cali asked, hocking and spitting at the ground just short of Spock’s Gucci loafers.

  “I’m her man,” Spock said.

  “Uh, you are?” I asked Spock.

  “Lucky baby. Why are you even talking to this corny motherfucker? It took a lot of hustling for me to get all the way here. You see I don’t have shit. I got here all the way from Atlanta. I had to steal a car to stalk your ass to figure out where you were. I come all this way just for you baby, to show you that I love you, and you’re hooked up with this guy? You’s a selfish bitch!”

  “That’s enough,” Spock said to Cali. “I believe the lady has had enough. I suggest that you move along.”

  Cali laughed so hard that he farted. Loud. And it stunk like four-day-old garbage that’s been sitting in the sun.

  “I suggest you move along,” Cali said, mocking Spock. He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He danced around, jabbing at the air with the knife in an attempt to intimidate us. It was working, as far as I was concerned, but Spock was cool and collected. I hid behind him, shaking.

  “You don’t want to try anything,” he said to Cali. “You’ll regret it.”

  “Oh, I’ll regret it?” Cali scoffed. “Nigga, puh-lease! I’m gonna whoop your ass and then I’m gonna whoop this bitch’s ass. Hmm, should I beat her ass before or after I fuck her? I know, I’ll beat her ass while I fuck her!” Cali lunged at us. Spock pushed me aside, managing to remove me from harm’s way but barely missing the swipe of the blade.