The One I've Waited For

by Mary B. Morrison

  Guys didn’t mind busting a nut inside any of Sis’s holes ’cause she’d let them. Despite all her shortcomings, she’d done one better than our mom. At least her children knew who their father was.

  Benjamin nodded. Tugged his chin. Remained silent. Swirled the cognac in his snifter.

  I hissed at him. “I did not put your dick inside her. You did that.”

  Shaking his head, he smirked. “You should get your money back for.”

  “Being stupid.” When he was the adulterer. Taking another sip from my glass, I gave him a tight smile.

  The twisted-lip response meant he was frustrated. I knew that already. My mother passed the lie-with-a-straight-face gene to my spoiled sister. Not me.

  Alexis was a pathological liar and a tyrant. Mauled every man (and woman) who slept with her. I couldn’t understand why her lovers begged her not to leave them. If James had an ounce of intellect, he’d stay away from my heart-slaying sister instead of circling back for her to decapitate him and his unborn.

  “I refuse to play Russian roulette,” was all I said, wondering how we’d gotten to this unhappy place in our picturesque marriage. Had to admit: Benjamin was once a reliable man for keeping his family first.

  Interlocking his fingers, he rested his chin on his thumbs. “That’s your problem if you want to take.”

  “Someone else’s word.” What the hell? “Finish a damn sentence. Photos don’t lie.” Mother had passed the believe-everything-your-man-says gene to my oldest sister. Not me.

  Devereaux had the spine of rag doll. Believed every tale Phoenix fabricated. I was vindicated that he’d slept in a cell. Wish he’d done more time for his ridickulousness. Dragging my two-year-old niece to his side’s house while my sister worked her behind off to support him. Devereaux had better not take him back. If I could eventually raise twins on my own, she could do the same with the one daughter of hers. Us mothers had to bond together.

  Going parenthood alone was never my plan. The possibility hit me hard. “When I’m done making you pay, she’ll have to keep a roof over your heads.”

  The woman sitting next to my husband inserted a “Humph. He can move in with us tonight” into her conversation with her spouse across from her then slowly inserted the tip of her fingernail into her mouth.

  Shifting my attention to her, I didn’t blink. Wanted to tell her, there was a pole out there waiting for her to slide down. I didn’t know a lot about Toya, nor was any stripper worth my time. I narrowed my eyes, then scrolled my stare back to Benjamin.

  He stretched his arms above his head, winked at the woman next to me, then replied, “If that’s what it takes to provide for my kids, at least they’ll have a place to visit me. I know you wouldn’t want them to.”

  This time the bitch diagonally from me laughed. The veins in my temples swelled. Home-wreckers in the ATL derived pleasure from making another female’s skin crawl. I refused to let that amateur belittle me. She was trash. I was sure of it.

  Five trophies with “Father of the Year” were displayed on the mantel in the family room of our Buckhead mansion. I’d given—make that he’d earned—them all. So why’d he cheat on me with a less attractive, W-2–earning witch? It would take all of her government coins to cover Brandon’s and Brandy’s tuition.

  Focusing on the purple and lavender asters, I wondered if this was a place he’d dined with his mistress. Based on the images in my phone he was obviously comfortable showcasing his side in public. Bones. Houston’s. Chops. BRIO. Seasons 52. Hudson Grille. Hell, he dated her more than he dined with me!

  “Hiring my resource was my way of discovering what I knew you’d never tell me. How long have you been . . .”

  Words transitioned into visuals of him kissing his mistress’s “good good.” My only regret for viewing the evidence was the scenes were etched in my mind. Maybe letting Arizona devour his privates was some sort of sadistic revenge for my not getting on bended knees.

  Realizing I was slumping, I sat up straight. Get it together, Mercedes. Why my husband when there were tons of dudes in Atlanta who would gladly do her? Thirsty chicks were uncouth. If Arizona didn’t stop seeing my husband, I’d crush her to dust fine enough to sprinkle over the Atlantic Ocean.

  I mumbled, “If you don’t care anymore.” Sighing, I stared at the blooming asters again. Was his side worth my time too?

  “Repeat that. I want to hear what,” Benjamin insisted.

  “What do you have to say, Benjamin?”

  “How do you know what I would’ve told you? You never asked. But you’re right about one thing. You talk to me all right. You talk down to me. At me.” He dragged my name. “Mercedes’s,” then snapped, “Monologues. I barely get to say a word when you’re upset. Let me make myself crystal clear.”

  Oh, really. The ridicule was not called for. Normally, I wouldn’t place my elbow on the table. Shielding my expression from the romantic chick flick to my right, I greeted Mr. Magnificent with a tight smile. I despised his coating the name of my consulting firm, Crystal Clear, with sarcasm.

  Staring at my husband, I wondered, Were his mistress’s juices on his genitals and his lips? Had he left her to meet me? Or was he looking forward to sexing her tonight?

  Legally taking on the surname of a financially secure Morehouse man was my main objective while at Spelman. No man had exceeded my expectations. Ever. But I had to admit. Compared to other men I’d dated, Benjamin was spectacular.

  I had been determined to have it all and, unlike my mother, I did. Now I had doubt. Should I forgive him when he’d shown no remorse? God, please. I didn’t want to follow in my mother’s footsteps. My family would humiliate me to my face.

  Where’d he meet Arizona? Did she come on to him? Him to her? The woman next to my husband stared at me. Obviously, she was no real private investigator. What was he really paying her to do?

  “Bitch, you’d have to stand in line. He already has a mistress.”

  Benjamin stood. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  She stood, then followed him. Her wife smiled at me.

  “Hi,” she said, seductively sipping her martini.

  For the first time, I noticed her entire face was plastered with makeup. Wish I could say she resembled a clown. Scanning her up and down, I saw her dress was short, heels high.

  Inhaling her sweet floral perfume, I opened my mouth, then exhaled in her face.

  I refused to do all the extra to get attention. Didn’t help Alexis and sure as hell it hadn’t helped my mother.

  CHAPTER 18

  Blake

  CLOTHING PROHIBITED

  “That’s cute,” I laughed. Silently, I read the sign again as the door to Bing’s jet closed behind us.

  “Remove everything,” Bing said, unfastening his tie. “We don’t have much time.”

  He hung his navy designer jacket, crisp white shirt, and his pants on hangers inside a closet. Placed his shoes on a top shelf. Tossing his undershirt, socks, and boxer briefs into a hamper, Bing lifted his balls then let them go.

  Peering into the cockpit I noticed the pilot and copilot fully dressed. “What if they come out and see me?”

  “I don’t have time to undress you, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll miss showering before departure if you don’t hurry. I’ll see you in a few.” Bing exited toward the back.

  A woman appeared from the rear of the plane. Stood where he was seconds ago. The red sheer robe covered a gold thong. Her stilettoes were too high for anything professional.

  “Who? What? I don’t understand,” I exclaimed.

  “No worries. I’m Mr. Sterling’s certified in-flight personal assistant,” she said. “Let me show you to the master suite.”

  Yeah, but was she trained to save our lives? It was apparent I’d be on my own if she had to choose.

  Trailing the sexy woman, I saw her body appeared smooth and tight all over. Envying her firm ass made me wonder if she’d seduced my man to get this job.

  She bent
over. The hem of the robe slid between the crack of her ass. Her labia was engorged.

  “Oh, my, God,” I said before I’d realized I’d spoken aloud.

  “Excuse me,” she stated, standing up. No effort was made to readjust the wedge.

  I hadn’t seen many vaginas in my lifetime. Of course my girls’ until they were old enough to maintain their personal hygiene. Then there was my mother. My sisters and I had taken turns bathing her during her last days as she was too weak to care for herself.

  What I just saw, there was no way Bing’s relationship with her wasn’t beneficial. She picked up a tiny piece of paper, giving me scenic vulva visual snapshots. I confirmed in my mind that she indeed had the prettiest, plumpest pussy I’d ever seen and I was no lesbian. She wasn’t under forty. I could only guess from her face.

  Thoughts raced. She really needed to stop bending over like that. Would Bing have sex with this woman if I wasn’t on this flight? What type of man had I agreed to marry? I prayed he didn’t intend for us to have a threesome. I’d never done and I’d never do that.

  Why me? Why did he ask me to be his wife? One thing was certain: unlike my daughters’ fathers, Bing did not need or want my money.

  Continuing our journey, we bypassed a dining room with a table large enough for four. A pornographic video silently played on a fifty-inch flat screen television mounted above.

  “Everything you need is in the shower. You have to hurry. The water will automatically shut off in five minutes.”

  The bed inside the master suite was wide. I glided my fingers along the sheet. Smooth Egyptian cotton. There was a stocked wet bar, a different X-rated movie on this screen. Removing my clothes, I turned on the water, stepped inside the shower.

  I had time to wash my ass, vagina, brush my teeth, and that was exactly what I’d done. I dried off. Hung the towel on the rack. The escort, now completely nude, with the exception of her heels, led the way to my fiancé.

  “We’ll take a more thorough cleansing together after we’re airborne. Here,” Bing said, handing me a glass of champagne from the table between our armrests. “Isn’t life grand? Cheers.”

  I’d been on his jet before and this was not the same one. Was not going to inquire if it were chartered or if he owned several planes.

  We were still on the ground. The alternative, I could put on my clothes and leave him sitting here. Then I’d have to book a regular flight from Paris to Atlanta, go through security and customs, and make a reservation or drive from Atlanta to Charlotte.

  Soft butterscotch leather comforted my neck, back, butt, thighs, and arms. Sipping my drink, I tried to relax.

  The woman appeared again. This time fastening the seat belt across my bare hips, she said, “Whatever you want, let me know,” then headed toward the rear.

  Bing said, “Wait. Bring my lovely fiancée the ruby heels I had made for her in Paris.”

  This wasn’t normal. I stared at Bing’s limp dick resting in the crevice of his thighs. The woman returned, strapped the stilettoes to my feet.

  I said, “Thank—”

  Bing shook his head. Quietly, she left.

  He was right. Mercedes would fit in well at his company but only the ability to dictate clothed would suit her. Bing’s not saying “please” or “thank you” was the same as Mercedes’s. He was firm yet polite. Definitely a man accustomed to giving orders. My daughter, she was rude.

  I raised my flute and brows at the same time. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers, darling. And yes. The rubies are real.”

  All of this was brand-new. Chill bumps covered my body. I shivered. “Can she turn up the heat?”

  “That’s my department,” Bing said, leaning in for a kiss.

  The moment our lips parted, I said, “I really am very cold.”

  “Good. Drink up.”

  After swallowing every bubble in my glass, I requested a refill. The champagne made me colder. I slid my hands up and down then sandwiched them between my thighs.

  “It’s good to experience being outside of your comfort zone,” Bing said. “Sacrifice, struggles, and failures build tolerance and character. Extremes teach us to adapt to our environment. If you can’t handle this, how would you survive if you were stranded in the snow? No pain. No progress. I don’t want a mediocre wife, Blake.” He slid his flute up my hard nipple.

  And I don’t want to catch pneumonia.

  My skin layered in bumps like sandpaper. The second cocktail made me feel worse. What if we had to deplane with no clothes on? I’d lose my job for sure if anyone videotaped us and posted it on social. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a hot flash.

  From the moment we’d left the chateau, the only bag my hands carried was my purse and that was optional.

  “Okay, this is different. I get your point. Is there a robe I can wear?”

  “Yes. And, no. Why cover up your sexiness? Being free is what life is all about. If the plane goes down, I want my last memories to be my best memories. For the next eight hours, let yourself be free as those birds we saw in Paris.”

  “They had feathers,” I said, making both of us laugh during takeoff.

  As we leveled at thirty thousand feet, hot water beading against my body never felt this good. Bing’s fingertips danced on my vulva.

  Penetrating me with his middle finger, he pressed deep as he could, swirled several times, then quickly pulled out.

  “Look at your thick cream.” He licked it off like it was the last of the butter frosting that was left in the bowl. Guiding my hand to his erection, he moaned. “Mmmm. Jack my dick, baby. Not too hard.”

  Massaging his shaft, I teased the head, then rubbed his dick on my clit. My body shivered. Muffling, I wanted to scream with pleasure.

  “Let it out. No one cares. The pilot and copilot are on my payroll.”

  “Yes, God,” I grunted. “Put it in.”

  “You do the honors,” he said, smoothing back my slick hair.

  I could hardly breathe. Wait. He hadn’t mentioned his personal assistant. Was she an employee or was she on his personal payroll?

  “Here, let me help you.” His strong arms lifted me above his thighs.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist. Hadn’t had sex in this position since . . . “Damn,” I exhaled, holding him tighter as he lowered me onto his erection. The walls of my vagina suctioned like shrink wrap to every inch of his shaft each time he lifted me.

  “Sit all the way down on this dick,” he commanded, then whispered, “Don’t ever deny me. I’ll never tell you no. You’re so beautiful. Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle to me.”

  Bing turned off the shower, carried me to the bed. “Hold my sweet pussy open.”

  Kneeling beside the bed, his personal assistant planted kisses on my clit. It felt good. I felt dirty.

  Lifting my head and shoulders from the mattress, I watched Bing placed his hands on my breasts. “Relax. Every woman should experience the pleasure of another woman.”

  Closing my eyes, I wanted to pretend a woman wasn’t doing me.

  She alternated between the softest kisses, to gently stroking my clit with her finger. Something whisked across my body. I opened my eyes, and Bing was teasing my body with a long white feather.

  “Stop overthinking everything or you’ll lose the pleasure of this moment. Let go, Blake.”

  It was hard knowing a woman was down there. At least she hadn’t. . . I’d thought it too soon. She inserted her finger into my vagina. Now her mouth and finger pleasured me.

  She sucked my clit while stroking my G-spot. Stroked and sucked while Bing teased my nipples and French kissed.

  I felt my eyes scroll toward the top of my head. My entire body was on fire. I’d give anything to have colder air blowing all over me right now.

  The woman continuously tugged her fingers inside of me, occasionally pressing to my left. Her mouth covered my vulva, inner and outer lips. Her tongue slid up, down, and round. Clockwise. Counterclockwise.

 
The intensity of Bing’s biting one nipple while squeezing the other transcended me into a zone I’d never experienced. Turbulence reminded me we were in the air.

  Suddenly, everything stopped. The next thing I felt was Bing’s dick slowly sliding inside my vagina. He resumed kissing me. As I started climaxing, I felt the woman’s finger going in my ass.

  “Ahhh!” I screamed. First I was shocked. Little by little the probing turned to pleasure for what was a great three minutes until she pulled out. Now what was she going to do?

  The woman brought hot towels, cleaned us up, layered a warm sheet over our bodies, then left.

  Bing lay my head on his chest, held me in his arms, then said, “Darling, if you like her, she flies wherever we fly. If you don’t like her, we’ll find her replacement. Get some rest. I love you.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Benjamin

  All that brilliance beautifully packaged, my wife still hadn’t learned how to suck my dick properly. That may sound degrading to some but show me a man who didn’t desire seeing his woman wrap her lips around his corona. I didn’t personally know of any.

  My wife should thank my mistress.

  Standing inside King + Duke near the restrooms, I told Toya, “Your other half is looking scrumptious. You wanna hook up later?” I added, “The three of us,” to make myself clear.

  Shaking her head, Toya said, “Your wife is extremely attractive. It’s that bitter personality that makes her a monster. She’s a real piece of work, dude. Give that angry bitch her hunting papers,” Toya said, laughing. “Your request for a threesome is good only if you slinging dick. See ya back at the table.”

  Maybe Toya was on point. Why was I holding out on sharing my dick? Had to consider, should I continue to let my wife sink her fangs deeper into my neck and suffer the consequences? Or do what my father taught me? Be a man and keep my wife and kids first?

  Heading toward the patio, I stopped inside the door, texted my mistress, wyd while I watched Toya squash Mercedes’s dyad with the Mrs.