Nude Awakening II

by Victor L. Martin

  “Okay, Smooch,” she said, looking over her shoulder. With a sexy look, she made her ass bounce and clap for her man. Her lust was burning to have him back inside her. Teasing her, he slid his dick between her ass cheeks while she continued to keep him in a trance.

  “Now!” she moaned. “Put that dick in me. Gimme all that dick!”

  Trevon slapped his erection up against her pussy four times before he pressed the tip against her opening. Looking down at the union, he held his breath until he was fully piercing her insides. His first thrust made her titties swing. Her ass began to jiggle and clap against his wet skin. Being raw inside her was a sensation that he would never tire of.

  “Dis how you want it?!” he asked, stroking her with a smooth long dicking that had her chanting his name. Every fifth stroke, his palm would slap against her bouncing ass.

  LaToria loved the dick. She wasn’t acting, her pleasure was real. Being with him made her feel desired beyond sex. Catching her by surprise, she jerked up on her toes when he pushed his thumb inside her ass.

  “Yeah, Smooch!” she shouted. “Fuck my ass and pussy! Oooo you fucking my ass and my pussy!”

  They stayed joined together for nine and a half minutes.

  “Shit! I’m cummin’!” she shouted with two fingers rubbing her clit. With the water pelting her ass, she shoved hard against Trevon, gasping and feeling weak. His arms circled her waist, holding her up while he jabbed in and out of her creamy hole.

  ***

  “Damn, that was the bomb,” she later purred, spooning in the bed naked with him.

  Trevon grinned. “That pregnant pussy got a nigga open.”

  “Boy, shut up.” She smiled, snuggling closer against him.

  A brief silence fell between them. Trevon closed his eyes, inhaling the strong coconut lotion that coated LaToria’s soft skin. He felt lucky to have her. Sure, she had her faults just as he did, but he loved her. Even with LaToria’s strong Nicki Minaj resemblance, he was able to respect her beyond the stance of mere looks. Most evident to him, she took him in with all his faults and scarred past. Their future? In truth, it scared him. Was he ready to be a father? A husband? With a hand lying on her belly, he reminded himself to take it day by day. The moment now was perfect, and that’s a life he sought to have with LaToria.

  ***

  While Trevon and LaToria found rest, trouble was wide awake up in Washington, D.C. Tahkiyah Bradford sat inside a dark silver BMW 640i convertible parked outside The Park at Fourteenth Club with its engine running. Tonight she had no plans to enter the club, even with the lure to mingle with a celeb or two. Behind the tinted window, she scanned the parking lot. She wore a heavy padded dark green L.L. Bean leather coat that hid her soft feminine contours. What couldn’t be hidden was her ageless beauty. At the age of fifty-four, she easily fooled many to believe that she was in her mid to late thirties. With her light skin tone and doe-like hazel eyes, her looks were seldom compared to Sanaa Lathan. Shifting in the leather seat, she removed her designer glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, showing that she wasn’t out to mingle. Sliding her glasses back on, she skimmed her fingers over the two items in her lap, a smartphone turned off because she wasn’t expecting any calls. The second item was a fully loaded black and chrome 9-millimeter. A horn blew behind her. She ignored it, keeping her gaze focused at the entrance of the parking lot. She wanted some good news tonight. What she craved even more was peace and some sentiment of closure in her life. Just when her tolerable patience began to waiver, a black Dodge Durango pulled into the parking lot with dirty snow caked up around the wheel wells. Tahkiyah placed her smartphone on the dashboard and then thumbed the safety off the 9-millimeter. Two minutes later, she had company.

  “Cold out, ain’t it?” a white male with a full salt and pepper beard intoned, closing the door.

  Tahkiyah sighed. “Do you have the information I requested? I didn’t drive all the way out here to discuss the weather!”

  “Yeah, I got it,” he replied, unzipping his brown-hooded parka. “Here, take a look at this.” He handed her a sealed manila envelope.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, eager to view the contents.

  “Mind if I light one up?” the man asked, reaching inside the parka for his cigarettes.

  “Yes, I do mind,” she replied stiffly without looking at him.

  Sighing, he waited until she broke the seal on the envelope. “The pictures that I mentioned in my e-mail are enclosed.”

  “I would hope so since I paid you sixty percent up front.” She shifted through the papers until she reached a stack of pictures.

  “That’s her house,” he explained, after seeing which picture she held.

  “And you’re sure it’s here? I can’t afford any mistakes with this.”

  “Without a doubt. I ran a full background check, and the birth certificate and social security number you gave me were a match.”

  Tahkiyah stayed silent until she picked up a second picture. To get a better look, she reached up to turn the interior light on. “Is this her?” she asked with her heart racing.

  “Yeah. That’s as close as I could get.”

  Tahkiyah couldn’t remove her eyes from the photo. “What’s her name?” she asked quickly.

  The man cleared his throat. “LaToria Nicole Frost.”

  “LaToria,” Tahkiyah repeated to herself.

  “Yeah. I can find out more about her if needed. Starting with her job and stuff like that. She also—”

  “You’ve done well enough,” she said. “Our terms of business end here.”

  “Are you sure? I can easily—”

  “I said our terms end here!” She made an unnoticed shift that placed a firm grip on the 9-millimeter wedged between the door and the seat.

  “Fine with me.” The private investigator zipped up his parka. He then made a rude exit without saying goodbye.

  Alone once again, Tahkiyah was now faced with a choice. It took her several minutes to make up her mind. Doing so, she reached for her smartphone. Doubting her boyfriend Anthony was awake, she elected to send him a text message.

  I’m okay. Will call u soon. Please manage things in the office until I return. Promise 2 explain. XOXO

  Making it hard to change her mind, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed south. She wasn’t packed for the trip to South Florida, but time nor money stood a matter with Tahkiyah. She could buy clothes when she reached the end of her trip. Leaving D.C. behind, she kept the 9-millimeter always within reach. Driving in silence, she softly whispered LaToria’s name with tears rolling down her face. Tahkiyah was unable to let the past rest. She would face LaToria and worry about the results of it later. Mile after mile she drove down I-95. She willed herself on, refusing to stop and turn around.

  ***

  Haters tried 2 make me a ghost in my Ghost!

  Swagga tweeted when he finally made it home at two in the morning. He was still jumpy from the shooting, so to ease off the edge, he filled his lungs with some killer weed.

  “I feel like Scarface up in dis bitch!” Swagga said and kicked back on the new brown and black gator sectional sofa in the huge living room. He took a hard long pull on the joint while his manager Harry Storm shook his head, frowning.

  As promised, Rick had beefed up Swagga’s security with an addition of four men.

  “I need me a new ride.” Swagga’s voice dragged.

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about who tried to—”

  “Can you handle it or not?” Swagga bassed on Harry. “Dat’s the fuckin’ police job, not mine!”

  Harry removed his glasses. He hated how Swagga tried to play the gangsta role every day of his life. “I’m your music manager not your personal assistant, Swagga.”

  Swagga sat up, staring at Harry. “Muthafucka, you work fo’ me! It’s my name dat push yo’ checks, so you better switch up that—”

  “Swagga, chill,” Rick said, rising up from the
stool at the bar. “He has a point. This some serious shit we dealing with.”

  “Man, it is what it is.” Swagga sat back reaching for the bottle of Crown Royal Black.

  Harry slid his glasses back on. “You need to get back in the recording booth soon,” he said, absently looking at Swagga filling his glass for the third time.

  “I know,” Swagga slurred. “Cain’t you see a nigga is stressed? You a good ole white boy, so I doubt nobody eva popped no slugs atcha.”

  “And I hope to keep it that way,” Harry replied.

  Swagga looked up from filling his glass. “See what I mean, Rick? Harry don’t back down, yo! He gonna have the same drive to get me back on top of the rap game!”

  Rick rubbed his tired eyes, feeling the need for an energy boost.

  “What are your plans?” Harry asked just as Swagga lifted the whiskey to his lips.

  “I’ma be ready Monday.” Swagga lowered the glass. “Lemme clear my mind of all this shit.”

  Harry stood. “Good.”

  “Why don’t cha spend the night?” Swagga offered.

  Harry shook his head. “Wife is waiting up for me.”

  Swagga shrugged, and then he raised the glass to his lips.

  “I’ll have one of the guards see you to your car, Mr. Storm,” Rick said as Harry picked up his leather briefcase.

  Swagga continued to get high in the comfort of his mansion. Rubbing his forehead, he found it odd that he was missing Kendra’s company. Maybe it was best that she had bounced out. He couldn’t imagine the pain of losing her because of some hating ass nigga. Smiling, he thought back to last year and how he hated so much on Trevon all because of Kandi’s phat ass. Thinking of her made his dick hard.

  “TV on,” he said, turning the new voice activated 100-inch smart TV on. “Video six.”

  Three seconds later, Kandi’s naked, oiled up, 48-inch ass filled the screen. She was outside by a pool with two black men that would fuck her endlessly for the next forty minutes. Swagga owned all of Kandi’s adult films, all but her last that included Trevon.

  “Bitches ain’t shit,” he slurred, watching the two men rubbing Kandi’s ass while she stroked them below their waist. Swagga held no guilt about trying to kill Kandi to keep his deeds with Chyna a secret. Watching the porn easily reminded him of his times with Kandi in bed. Not wanting to spend the night alone, he picked up his cell phone to call up one of his many groupies.

  CHAPTER

  Five

  This Can’t Be Real

  January 21, 2012

  Saturday 10:14 am – Coconut Grove

  Since when do you get out of bed before noon on the weekend?” Kandi startled Jurnee as she attempted to quietly close the front door.

  “Hey girl.” Jurnee smiled nervously at Kandi lying on the sofa. “I had to run to the ATM right quick,” she said, slipping the yellow leather strap of her Coach bag off her shoulder. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

  “Nah,” Kandi replied, sitting up and yawning. “I just got up about ten minutes ago. I came in here to watch the news, but I fell asleep.”

  Jurnee grinned as she sat down on the sofa. “Trevon put that ass to bed last night, didn’t he?”

  “Naturally,” Kandi answered. “And you helped me out too.”

  “I take it that you didn’t mention what we did to Trevon?”

  Kandi nodded.

  “It’s not good to be keeping secrets from your man,” Jurnee warned, crossing her jean-covered legs.

  “It ain’t a big deal. Besides, he knew I was bisexual before we hooked up, so I won’t stress it, okay?”

  “That ain’t the point I’m trying to make, girl.”

  Kandi rolled her eyes. “What’s up with you and your man?”

  “We broke up,” Jurnee flatly stated, crossing her arms.

  “Over what?”

  Jurnee’s foot rocked up and down. She sighed, and then cleared her throat. “He hit me and yelled in my face, and you know I don’t play that shit. So I left his ass!”

  “Are you okay?”

  Jurnee shrugged and turned her head toward the floor. “Just need some time to get my life in order about what I want to do.”

  “You talk to Janelle yet?”

  “Nah. But I plan to do so on Monday.”

  “Well, you know you’re welcomed here.”

  Jurnee looked around the living room. “Is Trevon up?’

  “Not yet.”

  “So, what did you have to talk to me about?”

  Kandi tugged at the edge of the T-shirt she wore with no panties. “Have you ever done something that you regret doing?”

  “Uh . . . yeah?”

  “What was it?”

  “Well, I guess my biggest regret is not allowing myself to fully open up to a man. It’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about what it would be like to be in your shoes.”

  “My shoes?”

  “Yeah. I think about having a child.”

  “Really! Shit. You ain’t never tell me that.”

  “It’s true,” Jurnee confessed, rubbing her nose. “I know life isn’t perfect, but I want the best for you and Trevon and the baby.”

  “Life ain’t never perfect,” Kandi muttered with a pout.

  Jurnee could see that something was troubling her friend. “What do you feel is wrong? You have Trevon, right? And the baby—”

  “Things just ain’t perfect, okay!” Kandi said, standing up quickly. She paced the floor, her eyes welling with tears.

  “What am I missing, Kandi?” Jurnee stood. “Ever since I’ve been here, you’ve been acting funny. Why aren’t you happy?”

  “It’s real fucked up right now.”

  “What’s fucked up?”

  Kandi didn’t answer.

  Jurnee glanced down the hall before she spoke. “Is Trevon cheating on you or something?” she whispered.

  “No,” Kandi groaned, wiping her tears away.

  Jurnee walked up to Kandi and laid her hands on her shoulders. “You need to tell me what’s going on with you.”

  Kandi lowered her chin. “I can’t.” She sobbed.

  “Yes, the hell you can!” Jurnee pressed, her voice filled with exasperation. She was fighting hard not to mention the abortion paper she found last night. Her hopes stood high on Kandi being open with her about her problem.

  Kandi turned from Jurnee to sit back on the sofa. “It’s about what happened up in New York.”

  Jurnee shook her head. “I thought you said you took care of—”

  “Dammit, I lied, okay!”

  “I’m starting to notice that.”

  “You’re not being helpful!”

  “How can I when you are keeping shit from me?”

  Kandi ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. “It’s about the baby.”

  “What’s wrong with the baby, Kandi?” Jurnee replied mildly.

  “When we were up in New York, I—” Kandi paused when her cell phone rang. Hearing the special ring tone, she answered quickly. “Martellus! I told you not to call this number!”

  Jurnee shook her head upon hearing Martellus’ name. She made no effort to conceal the disappointment on her face as Kandi got up to take the call into the kitchen.

  ***

  “Fuck you, okay!” Kandi said, seething. “Didn’t I make things clear to you yesterday?” She sat alone in the kitchen.

  “You know you’re wrong, Kandi! How the hell did you expect me to just let this shit go? My views are just as important as yours!” Martellus said.

  “No, they’re not! I told you I’ll take care of this. So now you won’t have to worry about breaking your wife’s special little heart. And plus you—”

  “I’m getting a divorce, Kandi. I was trying to tell you yesterday before you ran out on me,” he said desperately.

  “Bullshit!”

  “It’s true, baby. The papers have been filed, and I’ve told you you’re the woman I need and want in my life.”

 
“Don’t be telling me a lie,” Kandi whined, gripping the phone.

  “I’m serious. I do love you, and I’m willing to prove myself to you beyond mere words, baby. But to make this work, you have to give me—give us a chance. Do you love me?”

  Kandi sat down at the kitchen table with her lips quivering. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “All I know how to do is love you. Now, if I’m wrong for that. Then it’s something I can’t explain.”

  “I’m with somebody.” She sobbed.

  “You don’t love him. We have a strong past, and if given the chance we can have a stronger future. He can’t make you happy like I can. Why pretend? I’m leaving my wife for you because I’ve grown to care for you, and I love you, baby.”

  “But—”

  “Ain’t no buts. I’ve done all that you’ve asked of me, and I did it out of love, not lust. Think about what we did when you came to New York. It wasn’t lust and you know it. I . . . don’t want to have an affair with you anymore. I want you firmly in my life, no bullshit.”

  “. . . I don’t know.” She cried at the table.

  “Baby, listen to me. My flight leaves tonight at nine. I need to see you before I go. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes,” she said, wiping her eyes.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “I love you, Kandi.”

  Kandi closed her eyes and spoke the words he wanted to hear. “. . . I love you the same.”

  ***

  It wasn’t until noon when Trevon finally rolled out of bed. Hearing the TV in the living room, he assumed he would find LaToria. To his surprise, Jurnee was sitting alone on the sofa watching Notorious.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked, having forgotten that Jurnee was visiting.

  “Good afternoon, sleepy head.” She smiled at the sight of him wearing nothing but a pair of black satin boxers.

  “Damn, it’s that late?” He yawned.

  “That it is,” Jurnee answered, fingering a lustrous curl of hair that hung near her left breast. She was digging Trevon for sure.

  “Um, where LaToria?”

  “Left for a nail appointment about an hour ago.” Her eyes moved over his thick muscular torso and descended below his waist. The boxers did little to hide his dick even when it was soft.