Nude Awakening II

by Victor L. Martin

  “That’s because you don’t understand, okay?” she replied as she continued packing.

  “I don’t want you to go, Tahkiyah.”

  “We’ve already discussed this.”

  “Well, I’m not done discussing it, okay!”

  “Anthony,” she said, looking at him across the bed, “in the next few minutes I’m walking out that door, and I’m getting in my car and I’m going back to Miami! In truth, it was never up for discussion.”

  “Why!” he shouted, turning red. “Because you’ve turned this matter into an obsession!”

  Tahkiyah took her glasses off her beautiful face. She stared at the man she cared deeply for. She had knowledge of the gossip that her co-workers and employees would remark behind her back about her and Anthony. “Oh, she like a little cream in her coffee”, “If it ain’t white, it ain’t right for Tahkiyah”, “She got money, so only a white man will suit her.”

  Tahkiyah had a reason for not dating black men, a reason that was a pain only she knew. Eyeing Anthony, she spoke clearly. “Are you saying I’m being compulsive and unreasonable about this?”

  “No. I just—”

  “Yes, you damn well did! Look up the meaning of the word! And while you’re at it, Anthony, look up the word finished because that’s what we are! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to pack for this obsession that is driving me crazy.”

  “Okay, I get it,” he said, pointing at her. “You want to be with a black guy.”

  “What!” she shouted. “What makes you think—”

  He snatched her laptop off the bed. “I saw the videos you downloaded, Tahkiyah. The black sex porn? You didn’t have to hide it behind my back! You lied to me about everything!” he rebuked her, shaking the laptop.

  “Anthony, I—”

  “Save it!” he shouted with an odd grin on his face. “I know what this . . . little trip is all about, Tahkiyah,” he said, walking around the bed. “Before we got together, you were dating another white man. Warren, the VP of Integrated Marking for that automotive magazine. And before him it was that college professor, white as well. And I know of your past love life because you’ve confided in me, baby.” Dropping the laptop back on the bed, he smiled, easing his hands on her waist. “You don’t have to leave, okay? If you’re missing or just curious about being with a black man, bring him here. Let me watch him fuck you. Is that what you want?”

  Tahkiyah smiled. “Are you sure?”

  Reluctantly, he nodded yes.

  “But, baby,” she wooed, sliding her hands up his chest. “What about that old adage that people always say?”

  “What adage?” he asked as she toyed with his silk tie.

  “You know . . .” She grinned. “The one about once you go black, you never go back. Since you’ve seen the porn. Can you measure up?” She shoved him, erasing the smile on his face. “What the hell is wrong with you? Going through my shit behind my back! Fuck you, Anthony!” she screamed furiously.

  “But, baby, I thought—” he began to plead his mistake.

  “You thought wrong, white boy! This is one cup of coffee you can cancel ever tasting again! Now do this black woman a favor and get the fuck out of my house!”

  ***

  At the same time across the vast Atlantic Ocean, Swagga was ballin’ along a stretch of the Autobahn expressway in Germany. He was seated behind the wheel of a yellow Porsche 911 GT3 maxed out at 195 miles per hour with Nashlly filling the passenger seat. In the wake of the GT3 was a jet black Audi R8 being driven by Rick. The trip to Germany was a much needed vacation for Swagga, which had started a day after the code black.

  Swagga was getting used to Nashlly’s company and super climatic sex. Just two days ago, he had purposefully flaunted her in Paris, France just to get the paparazzi riled up and to keep his name buzzing. She was eating the attention up and keeping her lips or legs wrapped around Swagga every chance she got.

  Swagga’s mind was elsewhere. He tried to conceal his stress from everyone, including Rick. For some reason he couldn’t find peace. Peace of mind is what he seeked. He just wanted to rap and make music. As he sped toward the horizon, he tried to put the bullshit behind him. For starters, his conscience was afflicted ever since his successful plot resulted in D-Hot’s murder. Swagga had discovered through his legal team that D-Hot had snitched him out to the U.S. Marshals.

  Swagga’s plane was never going to Morocco that night. D-Hot had set up his fake escape after tricking Swagga into wiring $75,000,000 to his account. Now, D-Hot was dead, along with Brooke Vee, who was just at the wrong place at the worst time.

  ***

  Back in the state of Florida, Kendra was taking a shower with Trevon. The two had easily rekindled their secret sexual bond, and neither had any objections about it.

  “I was just thinking about something,” Kendra said, rubbing the soapy rag over his chest. “Remember when we did it at my house that night? Why were you so trusting of me to not use any protection?”

  “Trevon was caught off guard by her serious question. “Shit, I guess I just got caught up in the moment.”

  “Has that happened before? I’m bringing this up because the mess Swagga did behind my back scared me.”

  Trevon removed his hand from her wet bouncy ass. “Um, since I’ve been outta prison I only went um, raw with three women. You, LaToria, and Jurnee.”

  “You’re not afraid of the risk you’re taking?”

  Trevon sighed. “Everything just moving so fast for me. I come home and find myself living a life that I only thought was a dream. LaToria and I hook up, and then we breakup over some bullshit.”

  “And I popped up,” she said, grinning up at him.

  “Hell yeah!” he said. “My sexy ass probation officer that looks so much like Jill Scott. One minute you’re trying to send me back to prison . . .”

  “And the next I’m fucking you like it’s my mission in life.”

  “That sounds about right. But to be honest with ya, I’ve made a bunch of mistakes since I’ve been out.”

  “Including me?”

  “Picture that,” he said, palming her ass again.

  “I’m happy to hear that. And I’m glad you respected my decision about using protection when we hook up.”

  Kendra had managed to have Trevon assigned to her case load two weeks ago. She would show up at his door no less than four times a week. When she was with Trevon he made her feel desired. Her stance was still the same. Sex with no emotional strings attached.

  “I can’t believe what I’m about to do with you,” she said, stroking his soapy penis.

  Trevon licked both of her swollen nipples as she continued to work her grip up and down his manhood. “You sure you want this to happen?”

  She nodded yes. “My friend thinks I’m a square when it comes to sex. Doing a threesome has always been a fantasy of mine.”

  “Who’s it really for? You or her? I don’t want you to start tripping on me if we do this.”

  Kendra squeezed his dick. “You’re not my man,” she reminded him. “Tonight is my night. It will be a one-time affair. Just the three of us, all right?”

  Trevon was down to be a part of her fantasy. It was Kendra’s kinky idea to invite her BFF Dani to join her and Trevon. She had explained to Trevon how Dani had showed her an unedited copy of his first film.

  Telling the truth was easy for Kendra. She openly told Trevon that his first film changed her attitude toward him. Kendra knew about the crush Dani had on Trevon and a few other AEF actors. Not only would Kendra do a threesome. She was allowing the freaky actions to be filmed. Everything was set and ready for Dani to make things happen.

  Trevon wasn’t surprised when Kendra hit him with a list of rules.

  Safe sex.

  No anal sex.

  No girl on girl.

  Leave the lights on.

  When Dani showed up at his door, she was star-struck and tongue-tied. Kendra felt a

  surge of sexual prowess when it w
as her and not Dani that started things off. After downing two full glasses of gin and juice, Kendra acted out her fantasy as a sexy plus-size vixen. With the camera rolling, she shamelessly wrapped her pink glossy lips around Trevon’s long dick. Tonight was eventful and special for Kendra. As she eased her lips back and forth along his hard dick, she was relieved she had the willingness to do what she had only dreamed about. Everything snapped to reality when Dani finally broke from her trance to join Kendra at Trevon’s feet. Kendra held not a stitch of bitterness as she later watched Dani working her lips up and down Trevon’s meat.

  Trevon fucked both women tirelessly in front of the camera. Dani turned out to be a screamer. Her loud moans and stuttering praises of Trevon’s dick was an event itself. She yanked at the sheets, her big ass bouncing all over the place.

  Pussy became faceless and nameless to Trevon. He gave his all to both women, showing them the difference between making love and fucking. His focus was on the latter.

  Trevon later found himself relaxing alone in the tub. Kendra and Dani had left twenty minutes ago with an hour and a half of their sex on tape. Trevon had his eyes shut, reflecting on his life since he was released from prison. He didn’t have much to complain about. He had a big body ride on 24’s, a nice ass crib, and money on deck. Porn was his root, his foundation. The women he had been with crossed his mind. LaToria, Jurnee, Kendra, Linda, the cougar he fucked on the set of his first film, Ariana, Dani, Brooke Vee, and Cindy. He wasn’t ready to claim Cindy since she had drugged his ass. And he added Chelsea from his second film.

  So in truth, he’d sexed eight different women since being released out of the joint on August 17th of last year. A touch of sadness moved him when he thought of Brooke Vee. From what he was told, she was murdered not even two hours after he left her crib. He felt guilty that he knew nothing about her. Damn. I don’t even know the name of her little girl, he thought. Sighing, he realized that life could hold no promise of tomorrow. Above all, he was through dealing with matters of his heart!

  Wanting to get out of the house, he got Coogi down to the socks and then hit the streets at 4:40 pm. The triple chrome Rucci rims twinkled under the XJL as he cruised north along 7th Avenue with the two 15-inch subs bumping in the trunk. Drake’s “HYFR” was hitting so hard that he left the song on repeat. His Jag turned heads as he pushed the sedan with one wrist draped over the wheel. He saw his world through a pair of light green Versace shades, and he realized that 90% of the women that looked his way was his own doing. The wet candy paint, the big rims and glossy thin rubber band tires, and the dumping sound system. It all screamed “look what I got!”

  For those reasons, he collected eight new phone numbers from ladies that waved him down, hoping to fill that empty passenger seat inside his Jag. He told none of the women about his job. All they saw was a black man balling. As dusk began to blanket Miami, he spotted a red McLaren MP4-12C at an intersection at 183rd Street.

  Grinning, he flicked the headlights a few times, and then made a call on the hands free phone system.

  “Yes, Trevon,” Janelle answered with Alicia Keys “Unthinkable” playing in the background.

  “I see you’re out ballin’ tonight. Switched up your Lambo for the McLaren.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the red light to your left. Behind a taxi. Where you going?”

  “I’m still mad at you for changing that script. But since I like you, I’ma let it slide, again.”

  “You know you can’t stay mad at me. But yo, where you headed?”

  “Nowhere fast. Just cruising.”

  “Me too.”

  “You coming to my party?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for nothin’.”

  “Good, because I want you to meet your next cast mate for your next film.”

  “Ai’ight I’ll be there, boss lady,” he promised.

  ***

  Jamilah was moving to Atlanta, and Swagga would be the last to know. Her little insurance scheme was a dead issue, pun intended due to D-Hot’s murder. She was alone since Art had bounced out on her without a kiss goodbye. Too much was on her shoulders to deal with. Does Swagga know I was in on the two hits? Who killed D-Hot? Am I next? To make matters worse, she had taken a call from Nashlly three days ago. In the simplest terms, Nashlly told her that Swagga was unaware of the shit they tried to pull, and it would stay that way. She also admitted that she had her cousin drop a dime on Art and Veto. As for why? This too she was direct and blunt with.

  “Swagga is my money ticket now, so all y’all bitches can step back!”

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Three

  Diced Pineapples

  Since the weather was permitting, Janelle’s RSVP party was being held outdoors under the faint lambent full moon. Greenish lights lit up the palm trees that lined the infinity edge pool, creating a serene ambience. Men and women of nearly every nationality were in attendance at Janelle’s Sunset Island mansion.

  Lounging out by the pool sipping a lemon daiquiri, Jurnee stood with four other women. She was keeping admired looks her way by flaunting her shapely figure in a gold sequined and mesh dress that clung high above her knees. Her skin had a soft radiant glow of gold that matched the new highlights in her hair. Without being vain, she knew she was on top of her game tonight.

  Five men and two women had approached her in just an hour of her showing her face. They were all thoughtfully turned down. DJ Kay Slay had the sounds of “Fucking You Tonight” by Biggie Smalls and R. Kelly playing at a respectable level for the swanky partygoers.

  You must be used to me spending,

  and all that sweet wining and dining,

  well I’m fucking you tonight . . .

  And another one . . .

  Jurnee was telling a story about a blunder that happened to her once during a film when one of the girls nodded toward her.

  “Excuse me, ladies.” Trevon snuck up behind Jurnee, easing his hands down to her soft prodigious hips. “I need to speak to my manager for a second.”

  “Hi Trevon,” two of the girls cooed in unison. Both were admirers of his debut film.

  Trevon didn’t speak again until he was alone with Jurnee. “You still giving me the silent treatment?”

  “I’ve been in touch by e-mail and text,” she nonchalantly replied without bothering to turn around. “Plus, I sent you a tweet yesterday.”

  “You still trippin’ off that gun?” he asked, brushing his lips against her ear.

  “We still cool.” She shivered from his closeness. “But I meant what I said. As long as it’s under your roof, I won’t be visiting you.”

  “Nah, your sexy ass is just stubborn, that’s all.”

  She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink.

  “I got rid of it,” he said as he moved around her luscious body.

  “When?” She looked at him, shifting her stance in the strappy Manolo Blahnik heels.

  “After the funeral,” he replied, adjusting his silk and black-green tie.

  Jurnee pushed a curly wisp of hair off her cheek. “I might need to check for myself.” She smirked, wondering if he realized how bad her body was missing him.

  “Ai’ight, we can make that happen as soon as we leave.”

  “And who said I’ll be leaving with you?” she asked with one eyebrow lifted.

  “I did,” he proclaimed with a grin tugging the corners of his lips. “Where your girl Ariana at?”

  “Home. She has a big test coming up.”

  Trevon looked at her delicious glossy lips, remembering how they felt around his tool. His desire for her was too strong to neglect. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “You miss me, papi?” She touched his face as the attraction between them grew by the second.

  “Hell yeah,” he groaned, easing his hands back on her hips. “I wanna wake up with you in my arms. How that sound?”

  She rubbed his earlobe. “It’s not how it sounds . . . I’m more
concerned about how it will feel to have you back up in me. And since it’s been a while I want it all night long.”

  “Um, you sho’ know how to make my dick hard.” He bit his bottom lip and then squeezed her wide hips. “You like that song that’s on right now?”

  She nodded. Her center became moist between her thighs.

  “Good, ‘cause that’s what I’ma do to your sexy ass tonight.”

  “Show me better than you can tell me, papi,” she said as her nipples stiffened.

  Disregarding their public presence, their lips met in an open-mouthed kiss. Jurnee relished the kiss, tilting her head and sucking on his tongue. A soft breeze caressed her exposed arms and legs. Their brief titillating moment ceased when the deejay got on the mic. Trevon kissed her lightly on her nose with his yearning for her written all over his face.

  Jurnee noticed a few eyes turned her way as she stepped back from Trevon’s embrace.

  “You taste as good as you look,” he said, adjusting the lapel of his pin-striped white and green single-breasted suit.

  “C’mere.” She licked her thumb and then wiped off a smudge of lipstick from his sexy lips.

  “Where’s Janelle?” he asked as DJ Kay Slay made an announcement about the food being ready to serve.

  “Somewhere with Victor,” she told him. “Um, look over by the rock garden. See the girl in the white backless dress?”

  “Uh . . . shit. Who is that sexy lady next to her in that black dress?” he asked, rubbing his chin. “You know I gotta taste for older women.”

  Jurnee rolled her eyes. “She’s married, so stop lusting.” She hit his arm with her elbow.

  “Who is she?” Trevon checked the woman out.

  “That’s Jamie Foster Brown.”

  “Word! Damn, she sexy as hell! What she doing here?”

  “She’s doing an interview on Janelle for her magazine. Now pay attention. The girl in the white dress.”

  “What about ‘er?”

  “How does she look to you?”

  “Ai’ight, kinda slim but sexy. Nice little ass. Look like Tracey Edmonds a lil’ bit. Why you pointing her out?”