Sixty-Nine

by Pynk

  “Happy Freaking New Year,” Rebe said out loud like she started to really get the 2009 feeling, just as she looked over at the big man with the perfect goatee. He stayed seated as people hustled about. His eyes were only for her. Hers met his and stayed. She read his lips: Happy New Year.

  Rebe heard him loud and clear and mouthed it back with sexy.

  She had a new look on her face.

  And Magnolia and Darla noticed.

  They watched Rebe watch him and then she smiled toward the big man. She spoke with volume. “Freaking New Year is right. And I’m about to start right now.” She took hold of her black clutch from along the bar top and pulled on the hem of her short dress. “Listen. I love you both, but I gotta go.”

  Magnolia placed her hand on Rebe’s wrist. “No you’re not.”

  “Watch me.” She placed her glass back down on the bar. “And I might even suck his dick.”

  Darla’s forehead was pissed. She warned, “Rebe. Be careful. You don’t even know him.”

  “That’s the whole damn point.”

  “I’d swear you were on something. Not a drop of alcohol?” Magnolia asked over the loud blare of feel-good voices.

  “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  Darla spoke close to Rebe’s ear, “Look, you text me in ten minutes, and then if you leave, you text me an address. Don’t play now.”

  Rebe acted as though she was deaf. Magnolia and Darla watched her simply sashay away, with her elongated back, and long legs strutting like she was on a runway. She gave a girly fling of her skinny braids and stood before the big man, shook his hand, and brought her lips close to his left lobe. Magnolia and Darla could see Rebe shut her eyes as she spoke.

  They could see his chin dimple deepen.

  “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang played as folks joined in to sing along, some heading to the dance floor.

  In thirty seconds flat, after the big man whispered back to Rebe, he stood tall, proving that he was indeed six-seven, towering over her by a foot. He placed some money on the bar and grabbed Rebe’s hand, stepping away with an ear-to-ear smile, while she femininely followed, looking back at her buddies, winking and grinning like a teenager.

  Fully checking them out, Magnolia said, “Well I’ll be damned,” almost giving off a smirk of envy. “The nerve.”

  Darla’s mouth was stuck on open. She swallowed hard and blinked three times fast, looking at Magnolia as though prompting her to do something quick, and then darting her worried eyes back toward Darla’s exit. “Oh my God. She did it. She’s leaving. Is she leaving, or are they headed to that private room? Where are they going? That child cannot be serious.” She turned toward the bar and looked at Magnolia, who was now holding her BlackBerry Pearl, reading a text message. Darla said, “I guess I’m the only one worried. You know we’ve got to watch that girl. I just wanna know, what happened to the squeamish girl who just used the word ewwww a minute ago? She has lost her ever-loving mind at the stroke of midnight.” Darla turned back toward Rebe’s departure and lost complete sight of the big man and Rebe. She stood on her tiptoes. “Heck, where’d his tall ass take her?”

  Magnolia sat down and put her cell back in her purse. She wore a casual grin. “Rebe’s truly taken this forty-year thing to a whole new height. And I guess that means our butts need to get serious too, girlie. Like she said, we just made three sexual resolutions. And I don’t know about you, but I’m in.” Magnolia again raised her glass for a toast. “Happy fortieth birthday, Darla.”

  Darla cut her eyes away from the crowd and plopped her body down on the bar stool next to Magnolia. “Happy fortieth birthday,” she said as though weak. She and Magnolia leaned toward each other for a hug, and Magnolia patted her on the back. Darla glanced at her tiny barrel purse and opened it, snatching her touch-screen cell, eyeing it with a frown. “That newly freaky girl had better text me. Trying to shake the missionary and get all sixty-nine on us with the Mr. Rick Fox wannabe. Let her hair down, my ass. She ain’t forty yet, dammit.”

  Two

  “Your Body’s Callin’”

  Rebe

  INT.—FONTAINEBLEAU HOTEL—MORNING

  New Year’s Day 2009

  He had her in a sixty-nine position.

  Not lying down, but standing up, holding the weight of her body upside down, her head at the point of his strong dick. Her vagina at the point of his talented mouth. He kissed her sweet pussy lips and licked her insides out. Her swaying braids nearly grazing the hotel room’s white shag carpet. Her vulnerable pink clit, up close and personal, contracted, dancing to his oral music, happy as hell to meet him.

  Head first, she swallowed his cinnamon penis all the way down her throat, her lips down to his hairy base. She used her hand to keep her stroke tight. He fucked her mouth and at the same time held on to her full body weight. He was a superman lover for the ages.

  He took a few steps and changed positions.

  It had been an on-and-off span of five hours and forty-two minutes, to be exact.

  Five hours and forty-two minutes of him devouring her.

  The pale green and chocolate fitted duvet had long been kicked onto the carpet in an erotic frenzy.

  His brown eyes lavished her body for the hundredth time.

  He’d penetrated her tawny vagina for the twentieth time.

  Tongue whipped her for the eighth time.

  And he was still hungry for more.

  He sniffed her sexual scent while he fucked her.

  The intoxicating scented oil that she’d dabbed everywhere after her shower.

  Belly button, behind the ears, and between her legs.

  Her sweet body oil was called Pussy.

  And her pussy was what he’d lived in since two in the morning.

  They screwed like rabbits in the spacious one-bedroom specialty suite on the thirty-seventh floor of the ritzy hotel, lying on the triple-sheeted platform bed, smack dab in the middle of the expensive pillow-top mattress. The calming sounds of the crystal waters of the Atlantic Ocean, just beyond the balcony, were drowned out by carnal moans and groans, though mainly his.

  Her breathing was quiet, yet unsteady, as she took a moment from the sexual pounding she’d asked the universe for, and lifted her head just slightly to view the neon blue digits of the alarm clock. She then rested her braided head back on the feather pillow that had smelled like fresh linen hours ago, but now smelled like their his-and-her body combinations.

  She laid missionary, cooperating, receiving, with her ass cheeks in his massive hands, with her knees back to the padded, white leather headboard, with him deep inside. It was what she wanted, what she’d claimed, what she vowed to experience, but still she said after catching a breath to speak, “DeMarius, baby, I need to get some sleep. It’s almost nine in the morning.” Rebe’s words shocked the morning vixen in her. Even though it was a marathon like she’d never known, it was the old her taking over and being conservative, convincing her that sleep came before sex. But even with her spoken desire to cease, she held on tight through his X-rated conniption fit, sex kitten fingernails in his back. She was as wet as she was when he’d first entered, after eating her to the point of making her come all over his face.

  DeMarius begged in a frantic fuck-fury, “Not yet, just wait. Just a minute.” The rhythm of his voice was like that of a breathless 10K runner, pushing himself toward the finish line. His penis was at full extension, hiding out at the very back crevices of her cave where his tip secured itself, rubbing against the cherry pink walls of juicy uncharted territory. She felt as if he knew that the word uncharted was apropos. As though he knew Rebe had very little experience and hadn’t had her pussy explored and roughed up like that, ever. She felt he knew she had low mileage for a woman of forty. She could tell by the way he held her, by the way he was breathing, sweating, whispering in her ear, having her shift positions and lift one leg, lower another, twist, stand, sit, squat, buck, drop it, bounce, and bend.

  He kept sliding hims
elf in and out like it would be his first and last time to ever get this close to almost-virginity again, and so, just in case, he hit it hard, all night long, all morning long, making sure to repeatedly poke that soft, rough spot that made him, once again just as he had four times before, come. Hard.

  He almost cried. “Ahh, shit. Yeah, damn. Fuck, this tight-ass pussy is good. Ahh, yeah. Uggghhhhh.” He gave one last pump and stopped, resting his body weight on her body, and exhaled a long, manly deep exhale. From the back of her pussy she could feel his pleased banana-like penis swell to its maximum, unpeel, and then slowly collapse.

  His chest rose and fell quickly on her.

  His face was tucked close to her neck.

  For all she knew he was sucking his thumb.

  Rebe moved her hands from the impassioned grip of his muscular pecan shoulders and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, collapsing her arms along each side of her hips. She turned her head to the left, just as her mascara-smudged eyelids began to give way to her exhaustion. The feeling was intoxicating, him inside of her and her still in the receiver position. She felt she could doze off in afterglow sex heaven, and then she remembered.

  She was in a hotel room with a man she’d known for only a little more than eight hours.

  He was inside of her.

  And she didn’t even know his last name.

  She was butt naked.

  He’d gone through nearly a box of condoms.

  And she didn’t even know his last name.

  It was New Year’s Day.

  Her friends had to be worried sick about her.

  She’d never been fucked like that in her entire life.

  She’d never desired to be fucked by a man like that in her entire life.

  And she didn’t even know his last name.

  “DeMarius.” She spoke his name like maybe he could explain why she was there, because for the moment, she surely couldn’t.

  “Yes,” he answered as though spent, turning his head toward her voice in slow motion.

  Her eyes asked him to respect her and make her feel like a good girl, instead of the nymphomaniac tramp that had sucked his dick nine times and let him have his way with her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking over at her smooth, angelic dark brown face and almond brown eyes.

  She replied after a pause, putting her hand to her mouth, wondering if her breath was on fire, “I need to get up. I need to go to the bathroom.”

  He first reached down to grab the base of his condom, pulled his now deflated dick from her pussy, and carefully swiveled off just as she lowered her legs and stretched them out. “Ouch,” she said in a quiet voice from the feeling of her confined bones and muscles returning to their relaxed positions.

  He lay on his back, keeping his hand around his penis, looking over to watch Rebe as she swung her defined legs to the side of the bed and stood. The only light was from the muted local morning news show broadcasting from the plasma TV screen, shining random flashes of grayish highlights upon her fit frame. “You are something else,” he said with lust…still. He had a look like he could molest her some more.

  “You’re the one,” she said, grabbing her clutch from the leather chair and heading to the huge marble bathroom. She flicked on the lights, stepped on the cool, large ivory tiles, and left the door open.

  He could still see her, and his eyes had a conversation with her ass as she stood at the ebony pedestal sink. He gave a long blink and rolled to a slow stance, again keeping a grip on himself so that the rubber didn’t slip off. Nude, he headed to the bathroom, walked past Rebe and tossed his full condom into the ebony toilet as she stood nude, rinsing her mouth out, using every bit of the tiny bottle of Scope.

  He actually stood there urinating, as though they’d known each other for decades, not only fuck-hours. He spoke over the sound of his own stream. “Let’s hang out today, that is if you don’t have anywhere to go.”

  Rebe acted like she didn’t even notice him peeing. “I guess I could. But I just realized I haven’t seen my daughter in a few days. She lives with me,” she explained, dabbing her lips with a hand towel.

  “I see. I thought you wanted to get some more sleep.”

  “Oh I will, believe me, especially after that workout.” She gave his back a smile, eyeing every God-given inch of him from behind, even his round, muscled butt, and wide, protective shoulders. The right shoulder bore her fresh pussycat claw marks. “I’ll be falling asleep as soon as I get home.”

  “Okay.” He sounded as though he’d have no choice but to yield. “I understand.” He shook himself off, flushed the toilet, and headed to the sink.

  Rebe rummaged through the main compartment of her clutch. “How long are you gonna be in town?”

  He was at the sink, squeezing sanitizer on his hands, rubbing them together, walking to the bathroom door, and leaning his six-seven body against the frame. “Just until Monday night. I have an interview at Miami Dade on Monday.”

  “Really?” She watched his face through the reflection of the mirror. She didn’t tell him she graduated from there. She wasn’t sure why. She just didn’t.

  “Yeah. Track coach.”

  “I see. That’s where you get all that energy from, huh? A track runner. Or a marathon runner.” She smiled, still searching through her clutch.

  He grinned. “I’m not normally like that. Believe me. It’s you.”

  “Well, I’m not usually like that either. Never have been. But I’m sure you know that. I’m a little green.”

  “I think you handled every moment just fine.”

  “I’d say I had a little trouble trying to negotiate some of those positions you were directing.”

  “That was an unusual amount of time. You did just fine.”

  “You should be a porn director. You sure you’re not on some of those little blue pills?”

  He gave her a handsome grin. “I guarantee you, I’m not.”

  “Wow. I’ve never seen, or done, anything like that move you did having me upside down, in that standing sixty-nine. Haven’t seen much sex beyond laying on my back, really.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I just haven’t. Got pregnant when I was young and even then, it was just so-so to me. I was never that curious about sex.”

  “Looks like you need to make up for lost time.”

  “I agree. About to turn forty, getting ready for a new life. It’s all unfolding.”

  He eyed her tip to toe. “Looking at your body, no one could tell. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Thanks.” She blushed.

  “Were you married to your daughter’s father?”

  “Not to him, no. I did marry someone about seven years ago, but not for that long.” She zipped up her clutch, didn’t dare tell who Randall was, and turned toward him and leaned against the sink, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. “But I’ll tell you something, our sex life, meaning his and mine, was nothing like that.” She pointed to the bedroom. “Maybe that was part of the problem.”

  He looked like he was fighting to not look at her chest, and instead looked at her face. “It takes two, you know?”

  She tried not to look at his penis. It was half awake, and she could have sworn she saw it jump. She squinted and blinked and swallowed. “True. So, what about you? A man like you alone at a club on New Year’s Eve. I would think you’d have so many women trying to get with you, and that you’d at least have a date. Surely once they got to know you this way, I mean, they’d be crazy to not want to, you know, want to get close to you.”

  “I’ll be totally honest with you. And I’m saying this because one other time when I wasn’t honest, it came back to bite me in the ass. One lie only leads to trouble. See, I made my bed so I’d better be proud to lie in it, so here it goes. I’m here for two reasons. One is my coaching interview, but I came in a few days early because of an assignment. I’m an escort, and I had a job two nights ago when I got here.”

  “You
’re kidding me.” She placed her hands on the sink behind her.

  Her chest was now his full bull’s-eye, as if he’d never seen her nipples before now. His glance scooted to her surprise-ridden face. “No, I’m not kidding. But, it was nothing like what we just did. Nothing like you.”

  “Wow. I see you are really honest, aren’t you?” She walked to the wall and took the white terry cloth robe from the hook.

  “I try to be.”

  “So, what’s up with that? I mean, you do it for the money?” Rebe put her arms through the sleeves and pulled it on, closing the front.

  “Partially. And, it’s just easy work.”

  “For you, I’m sure it is.” Her mind was racing. “What else do you get out of it, other than money and other than it being easy? Is the uncommitted sex part of it?”

  “Maybe. No strings attached. But having sex like I did with you, if you were a client, would be difficult to walk away from. That’s how sex should be.”

  “Okay. Huh.” She shook her head. “Life.”

  “Yeah. Life.”

  She reached back for the belt and tightened it around her waist.

  “You sure you have to go?”

  “I do.” She turned back toward the sink.

  “Maybe another day.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Sounds to me like you doubt it.”

  “At times I doubt there’ll be any day. Nothing’s promised, as they say. Not even tomorrow. Really, you just never know.”

  “True. But I do know one thing. You are amazing,”

  “So are you.” She meant it, but didn’t sound like she did.

  He took the few steps that led to her, and took her hair into his hand, lifting her long, thin braids that flowed behind her back, lifting it high enough to find the nape of her ballerina long neck. He bent down to meet her dark brown skin that still smelled of her sexy body oil, moving the collar of her robe.