Black President

by Brenda Hampton

  “Did you not hear what I just said?” he asked. “What do you want, Raynetta, and what must I do to stop you from leaving me? Tell me now, just so I’ll know.”

  “If I tell you what I want, will you do as I ask?”

  “Tell me, then I’ll decide.”

  “I want you to stop loving Michelle Peoples and quit having sex with her. I want you to tell your mother that she cannot refer to me as bitches and hoes, and that you will not stand for it. I want you to show me that you love me more. Come have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with me, join me in our bedroom and tell me how your day is going. Inquire about mine and applaud me for some of the things I do to assist others. And one of the biggest things—stop ignoring me. As for tonight, I do have specific requests. I want you to get up, take off your clothes, and make love to me. Drink all of my juices, please me in every way, and tell me how much I mean to you. That, Mr. President, is what I really and truly want.”

  Stephen examined me from head to toe. He then stood and removed his shirt. Took off his slacks; briefs came next. Naked, he was. Sexy, without a doubt. Hard, yes, indeed. Ready for this moment, we both were.

  “For the record,” he said, moving to the center of the presidential seal where I was, “I never loved Michelle Peoples. The only woman I have ever loved is you. My mother is wrong. Forgive me for not correcting her sooner. We can have breakfast, lunch, and dinner anytime, but, sometimes, you’ll have to excuse my tardiness from the bedroom because I can be very busy. Let’s just stop ignoring each other, and in regards to your specific requests tonight, I can certainly handle all of the above.”

  Stephen started to undress me. He tossed my clothes on the sofa, and as I stood naked, so did he with his body pressed close to mine. Our eyes were connected, and as his fingers lightly touched my lips, he looked to be in deep thought.

  “Who was the man you thought about making love to?”

  I couldn’t help but to laugh. He didn’t. “I knew you were going to ask me that, but a good girl like me never tells.”

  “I figured you would say that, but a smart, very observant man like me already knows. Landris could never satisfy you like I’m about to do right now. So keep what you have; just learn to tell me what your wants are more often.”

  “Will do, Mr. President. Definitely will do.”

  I lowered myself on the circular rug, feeling horrible about the juices I would leave on the seal. But I couldn’t help myself. My body temperature had risen, and as Stephen lay over me, my temperature ticked up a notch. My legs were spread wide—I wrapped them around his back, as he started to deliver delicate kisses along the side of my neck. I turned my head to the side, closing my eyes and savoring the feel of his thick lips that traveled from north to south. His tongue dipped into my belly button before sinking into my warm, dark cave that had become tight as a knot. With every light lick, every rotation of his tongue, and with a little bit of force, he loosened it. My insides started to rain—rain in his mouth, as well as on the rug. I squirmed from the intense feeling of him sucking me dry, but in no way did he allow my insides to stay dehydrated. This time he entered my dark cave again, filling it to capacity with nearly twelve inches of satisfying meat. I gasped from the feel of his rhythmic long strokes, and that’s when he covered my mouth with his, so I could taste what I had fed to him. As we intensely kissed, he held my hands above my head, clenching them with his. His strokes were at a tranquillizing pace that had me on the brink of shouting his name and spewing words that couldn’t be found in the Urban Dictionary. This . . . was . . . good. My husband felt so good inside of me, and with our hands still clenched together, I lifted my back, forming an arch in it. My firm breasts were now at attention, causing him to lower his head and tackle them one by one. I squirmed even more, grinded my hips, and secured my legs tighter around his back. Stephen was hungry for more, and when he positioned my legs close to my chest, I felt his steel tamper with my G-spot even more.

  “Ohh, baby, you are almost therrrre!” I cried out. “Get in there and find it!”

  “I’m digging, baby. Digging real hard, and I think I’m about to strike gold.”

  “Hell, yeah, you are. Find it and be sure to give me some. I want all of it. Every last ounce of it.”

  I was soaking wet . . . could feel Stephen’s muscle throbbing inside of me. He quickly eased out of me, just to switch positions. And with both of us lying on our side, he was comfortably behind me. He separated my legs, placing one of them over his. Before entering me again, he took a few minutes to massage my thighs, caress my breasts, and give special attention to my perfect ass that he admired so much. He separated my healthy cheeks, before gliding his way back in. His fingers touched my precious pearl; it wasn’t long before my insides started humming again. This time, I turned my head sideways to kiss him. Tried to muffle some of the excitement I felt, but couldn’t.

  “Wh . . . Why did we wait so long to do this?” I started to cry, simply because I loved my husband so very much and never, ever wanted to lose him.

  He answered by kissing my tears away. I was so emotional, it took Stephen’s words to calm me.

  “I love you,” he said repeatedly. “And I promise you that we will never wait this long again.”

  That was music to my ears. We made love in the Oval Office for what seemed like hours. From the Resolute desk, to right by the fireplace, we left our mark. I could only hope that other presidents brought this much pleasure to their wives, but then again, there was only one Stephen C. Jefferson.

  * * *

  Later that week, his biggest accomplishment had come. Many presidents had tried to pass sweeping gun control legislation but had failed. He did that, and I was so proud as he stood at the podium, dressed in a coal-black, crushed velvet jacket and tailored slacks. His face was shaved cleanly; minimal hair suited his chin. Caesar cut was lined sharp and polished to near perfection. Vice President Bass stood next to him. I couldn’t help but to hear her whisper to Stephen what another vice president had said in 2010, when the Affordable Care Act had passed.

  “This is a big fucking deal,” she said, smiling. Those who had heard her laughed. So did Stephen as he gave her a hug, congratulating her as well. He also gave a shout-out to Andrew, who, all along, had Stephen’s back. Then he addressed the crowd, as well as the American people.

  “This is a big deal, a big fucking deal, yes, and this is what can happen when we keep our eyes on the prize and do what we must do for the betterment of our country. We still have a long way to go, but as long as I am president, we will confront these issues and tackle them head-on. As your president, I remain unsatisfied with the current state of our union. I will not stop here, but make no mistake about it, I am grateful to see this day. I am delighted to say that we have won against the NRA and against those who did not believe that a Democratic African American president and a Republican, an amazing woman from little ol’ Georgia, could come together and accomplish this. I thank her, and I am very optimistic that we can, and will, commit to accomplishing more great things to come.”

  Vice President Bass said a few words, and then Stephen gave an overview of the new bill before signing it into law. Applauses erupted, especially when Stephen stepped back to give me a juicy kiss. I smiled wide, hoping that there were many more days like this in the White House to come.

  30

  President’s Mother, Teresa Jefferson

  Yeah yeah yeah . . . Everyone seemed happy, and everything was all good at the little White House. I was happy for Stephen, but in no way would I ever be pleased with that thing he called a wife. She had interfered and come between us. Stephen chewed me out, and I was in tears while driving, thinking about the way he had spoken to me that day.

  “I will not stand by anymore and let you speak to Raynetta that way. The things you say are very hurtful, and you are not going to continue to upset my wife.”

  “I do not accept her as your wife, and I never will. And what about the way she speaks to me? Have y
ou said anything to her?”

  “No, but I’m saying something to you. Back off or you can go upstairs, pack your shit, and leave. It’s your choice, Mama, and if you don’t listen to me, you may as well consider me your enemy and not your son.”

  My eyes bugged. “Oh, so now we’re enemies? She must’ve screwed you real good, because your mind is very twisted. But that’s what tricks are good at. They make you forget about all that your mother has done for you. All the sacrifices I made and the twenty-seven hours of labor I went through to bring you into this world doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve chosen her over me, and I never, ever thought this day would come.”

  Stephen shrugged, as if my words had gone in one ear, out the other. “I’ve never asked you for anything. But now I’m asking you to show my wife some respect. If you can’t find the courage to do it, get the hell out of here and don’t you ever call me again.”

  He left the room, slamming the door behind him that day. I left the little White House, vowing to do exactly what he said, which was to never call him again. I was so mad—angry because it didn’t have to be this way. Raynetta was no good, and all I needed was for Stephen to see that. She didn’t even want to give him kids, and what kind of man stayed with a woman who chose not to continue his legacy? I knew how to get to him, though. I knew how to wake him up and throw another monkey wrench in the program. I wasn’t hating—was only looking out for my son who I always knew could do so much better than Raynetta.

  I finally made it to St. Louis. Parked my car in Ina’s driveway, hoping that she was home. Her car was there, but that didn’t mean much. She had two or three cars, compliments of all that I’d given her over the years.

  With my Louis Vuitton bag in my hand, I made my way to the door. Knocked, and several minutes later, Ina opened the door. She was always happy to see me, and as long as her house was clean, I was also happy to see her.

  “Hello, Teresa,” she said, opening the door wide so I could come in. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have cleaned up around here, and I definitely would have fixed you something to eat.”

  I liked Ina, but she was lazy. That was one of the reasons I never wanted her to be with Stephen. She didn’t have her shit together, and Stephen being with her was a setback. She had gotten pregnant a few years after he graduated from college. He was well on his way to doing bigger and brighter things, and Ina didn’t even have a damn job. Her family’s background wasn’t good enough for me, and with her mother being on drugs, I just didn’t want Stephen to get caught up in the mix. Either way, Ina came to my house and broke the news to me about her being pregnant. I begged her not to tell Stephen. Told her I would take care of her and the baby for as long as I could. And over the years, that was exactly what I had done. Ina and I had gotten closer—she turned out to be a jewel, with a few flaws here and there. In addition to that, I loved my grandson more than life itself, and I would do anything . . . anything in the world for him.

  “Come here,” I said to my handsome grandson who looked so much like his father. “Come give me a hug, and give your sweet granny some suga.”

  He gave me a squeezing hug, showing me just how much he loved me. I wanted to tell Stephen about his son, but timing was everything. Fourteen years in, he still didn’t know, but if Raynetta was ready to rumble, so in the hell was I.