Erotic City

by Pynk

  “What are you doing?” Tamiko asked her sister from her jeweled cell as she exited her rust Range Rover. She pressed the alarm button toward her shiny truck. “You sound cheery.”

  “I am, actually. I’m at Lavender’s house. We just had dinner. We’re hanging out here for the evening. Taj is spending the night until we take him to school in the morning.”

  “Oh good. So he picked him up from school?”

  “We did.”

  “Oh excuse me, little family. Whatever it takes so you guys don’t have to deal with what’s her name.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Girlfriend actually let you guys have him during the week?”

  “She had something to do. Who knows?”

  “Probably go see one of her attorneys. I can’t believe she filed those charges and then you guys still have to interact with her.”

  “I can’t either.”

  “Anyway, at least Taj and Lavender get some bonding time.”

  “True.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll let you go. I know you can’t talk. I’m out and about in Buckhead. I was just calling to see how Panama City went, but I’ll call you later.”

  “It was wonderful as usual. But yeah, let’s talk later.”

  “Love you, big sis.”

  “Love you, baby sis.”

  Tamiko was sexy casual in stonewashed jeans, a dark brown top, a sparkly belt, and animal print pumps. She walked inside of the Hancock Fabrics store near Sidney Marcus. She headed straight to the fabric aisle and grazed her fingertips along the varied textures of stretch material that complimented the tiny threads of dark green hues she wanted to use for her flared skirt creations.

  A young man who was wearing a Georgia State cap stood near her, looking at the selection of metal zippers. He had on black jeans, a black-and-white Akademiks hoodie, and red, low-top Nikes. He kept both eyes on Tamiko. He looked down at the metal zippers and back over at Tamiko, focusing somewhere near the supreme roundness of her authentic apple bottom.

  Tamiko kept him in her peripheral view and walked over toward the next aisle.

  He followed.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  She turned around, knowing he was behind her. “Yes?” As she pivoted quickly, her long hair bounced over her shoulder.

  “Oh, I just wanted to ask if you come here often.” His wide sideburns and baby mustache were lined up tight. His lips were chiseled and his teeth were ultrawhite.

  Tamiko grinned while taking in his looks. “I do. The question is, do you?”

  “Well, I saw you when you first came in and I, well, I just wanted to say hello.”

  “Hello.”

  “Hello.”

  She pulled the strap of her brown purse onto her shoulder. “So, you’re stalking me in other words, huh? Cause you don’t look like the fabric store type.” Her face said she was both kidding and serious.

  “Okay. I guess that’s fair.” He checked out her left hand. “So, are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  She waited a few seconds before she spoke again. “I’m flattered but I do have a boyfriend. So, I’m not available to get to know new people, or should I say other men.” She glanced at his face and then to the shelf.

  “Believe me, I can respect that. I’m just saying he’s a very lucky dude. But if I were him, you’d definitely have a ring on your finger.” He sounded serious.

  “A ring, huh?” She smirked and examined his brown skin. “Aren’t you still in college?”

  “No. I’m thirty-one.”

  “Thirty-one? You’re kidding me. You don’t look it.”

  “I know. People say that all the time. I guess it’s a good thing.”

  “I guess. I know you get carded everywhere you go.” She grinned.

  “I do.”

  Tamiko’s phone rang out. “Well, mister young looks, I have to get this call.” She removed her phone from her purse.

  “No problem. You stay beautiful, beautiful.” He shook his head. “Man better hold on tight. I’m Kellen by the way.”

  “Take care, Kellen.” Tamiko gave a quick smile as she stepped toward the next aisle. He stood in place to watch her tight jeans from behind. She pressed talk. “Hello,” Tamiko said at the same time she read the caller ID. Her smile flipped.

  “Hi, Tamiko.”

  “Yes, Nancy. What is it?”

  “I just wanted to check on my stepdaughter.”

  She snapped her tongue. “Check on your stepdaughter? Anyway. So what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Just calling to say hi.”

  “Oh, so you must’ve heard about the mess at Milan’s club, right?”

  “Well, I do think your sister is in a bit of trouble.”

  “Milan will be just fine.”

  “Oh, so I see she has you thinking the worst of me again.”

  “I can think for myself.”

  “Well, I’m family, and as her stepmother, I am worried.”

  Tamiko headed toward the notions aisle and turned to look back behind her. “Worried about what?”

  “That maybe this woman will try and get some money from you guys.”

  “Look who’s talking. Anyway, first of all it wouldn’t be the club’s money, and second of all why are you worried about it in the first place?”

  “Because it could be a financial strain on everyone.”

  “Please don’t act like you’re trying to protect our assets. Everyone doesn’t even include you.” Tamiko rolled her words.

  “Why are you so angry with me?”

  Tamiko’s eyes narrowed. “I’m talking like this ever since you didn’t show up at Dad’s funeral, yet you claimed to love my father so deeply. And then you send both of us that e-mail about filing a claim to get money from his estate. It’s not going to happen. So like I said, I can’t figure out why you’re calling me. Other than to be straight-up nosy.”

  “I haven’t filed anything yet.”

  “Oh, so the e-mail was like what, a threat? A warning or something?”

  “You know, I just don’t understand. As good as I was to you when you lived with your father and me, I can’t figure out why you, of all people, would want to just erase me from your life. We have memories together and you know it. We did have some good times.”

  Tamiko switched the phone to her other ear. “Those memories were a long time ago. You and my dad went through some major times after that. You moved out and accepted the settlement. We have that in writing. And from what I know, you found yourself someone else and moved on.”

  “See, that’s what your dad told you. Your dad said a lot of things about me that just weren’t true.”

  “Oh, so my now dad’s a liar?”

  “I’m not calling him a liar. But some of the things he claimed were going on, weren’t. He thought I was fooling around on him. I’m telling you that’s not true.”

  “Well then why didn’t you fight for more money when he was alive? Why now?”

  “Because I guess I thought he’d leave me something after all these years. Something.”

  “If you spent the money you agreed to that’s on you.”

  “That’s not the point. But unfortunately, now that you and Milan have turned against me, there’s nothing I can do but try to go through the legal system.”

  Tamiko continued to walk farther down the aisle. “Go ahead and try.”

  “Maybe you feel I’ve changed and that I’m being greedy, and that’s your right. But Milan has always been angry with me.”

  “You’ll have to ask her about that. But I do know that our father didn’t stipulate you in his will. He didn’t want you to have the money you’re asking for. Milan is honoring his wishes. And so am I.”

  “But I was in his will until the divorce was final. And I know he didn’t leave all that money to charity.”

  “And?” Tamiko stood in place tapping her foot.

  “And, who knew he’d pass away right after t
hat?”

  Tamiko sighed. “We knew. He never fully recovered from his stroke and you know it. Where were you?”

  “I was kicked out. And, Tamiko, don’t forget, I’m not some groupie. I was his wife.”

  “Was.” Tamiko looked back, and then down another aisle.

  “Don’t do this. Let’s keep the lines of communication open.”

  Tamiko heard a beep tone and looked at the screen. “You made your choice. Go ahead and file the papers. We don’t need to talk. Our lawyers can talk. Now I’ve gotta go.”

  “Tamiko.”

  “Good-bye.” Tamiko clicked over as she shook her head. “Hey, baby.”

  “What’s up?” Jarod asked. The sound of traffic backed up his voice, along with the sounds of a Boney James track.

  “Oh, I’m in the store. My dad’s ex-wife is trippin. She had the nerve to call me after that e-mail she sent.”

  “Trying to get that money, huh?”

  “Jarod, you just don’t know this woman. I know I don’t talk about her much, but she’s turning out to be more of a trip now than when I lived at home with her.”

  “From what you tell me, she won’t get anything. She agreed to an amount and she needs to move on.”

  “I have a feeling she’ll do what she can to get more. I doubt she has much money left.”

  “I’m sorry she upset you. Listen, I just had a quick break. I’m at the airport waiting to pick up this guy who arrives in about two minutes. I just wanted to check in.”

  Tamiko again turned around. This time, she found herself standing five feet away from her new admirer. “Take care now, beautiful.” He grinned and headed to the checkout line with a swagger.

  Tamiko smoothed her hair behind her ear and spoke under her breath. “You, too.”

  “Who was that?” Jarod asked.

  Tamiko turned and headed for the front door. “Just a guy in the store.”

  “Did he say beautiful?”

  She reached in her purse and grabbed her car keys. “I think so. Anyway, are you coming by after you leave the club?”

  “I am.”

  “I’ll sleep lightly.”

  “You do that. Beautiful. I know what’s up.” His voice teased her.

  “Bye, Jarod.” She kinda smirked and hung up, keeping her focus while she stepped to her truck and got inside. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview while securing her sunglasses, and pulled off, listening to the radio.

  “The wife of rapper Big Mack, aka Mac McCoy, has filed a petition for divorce stating irreconcilable differences. Since the couple did not have a prenuptial agreement, she’s asking for half of his assets from their eight-year marriage.

  “McCoy was accused of assault in the case that involves the sex club called Erotic City. The club was charged with negligence. There has been a lot of controversy surrounding sex clubs, particularly in light of these charges. We have a show scheduled for April twenty-fifth to discuss sex clubs when our host Diva Sexton addresses the topic, and our special guest will be Milan Kennedy, who is the owner of Erotic City and the daughter of the deceased musician Charlie Kennedy. The defense attorney for the club has already appeared on behalf of the client, and both sides agreed with the judge’s decision to set an evidentiary hearing date of May sixteenth while the charges are investigated further. The club’s owner is expected to plead not guilty. No information yet as far as the date of the criminal charges against Mac McCoy. We’ll have more information as it becomes available.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Tamiko said out loud. “This mess is not blowing over easily.”

  19

  “Cream”

  Thursday, April 17, 2008

  11:30 p.m.

  The theme was Erotic City’s second annual Red Hot Party. Red balloons kissed the ceilings while curly red ribbons streamed beneath each one. There were buffet tables draped in red with finger food galore. The bartenders served virgin punch with cherries. The sexy hostess girls strolled around passing out chocolate hearts wrapped in red foil paper. They greeted the members with red lipstick kisses. Folks were fired up and ready to get loose.

  “I’ll make ya weak at the knees. Make ya feel all right.”

  Under the shy lights and erotic ambience of the main purple room, the crowd stared with lusty eyes as though being hypnotized through some tantric ritual.

  Some bobbed their heads to the old school beat by Steve Arrington. But all were deep into eyeing the two, dark-skinned young women who only wore generous swirls of whipped cream, freshly squeezed from the can by a tall mistress with short, spiked hair. She wore a red baby doll, thigh-high stockings, and five-inch heels. She’d drawn creamy, delectable body bikinis for all to devour.

  One of the women lay upon the table on her back with whipped cream covering her breasts and encircling the shape of her Mohawk vaginal hair. A heart-shaped squirt surrounded her pierced belly button. The other woman lay on her tummy with drawings of cream along her firm cheeks. The tight skin of her muscular thigh had a red-and-black tattoo of Betty Boop.

  “Come on and get a taste. You know you want to,” said the mistress of seximonies, holding a microphone and strutting like she was the madam of all naughty delights. Brian, one of the guards, stood nearby and kept an eye on things.

  A young black man with cornrows bent over to scoop up a mouthful of tittie, ending with a suckle of the young woman’s hard nipple. He licked her brown areola and kissed her saluting tip.

  She lowered her eyes and moaned while another man came to assist with the other coated nipple.

  An older white man began pressing his lips to her goodie trail. She spread her legs open a bit to assist. He came around to the end of the table to get a head-on view, teasing her hairy lips until he hit her point of entry, and inserted his tongue. Her eyes were coated with lust. She swallowed hard and her moans grew louder. She found herself with three men while she lay back enjoying being the VIP, very important pussy dessert for the evening.

  She flexed her toes and throbbed her own sex cream onto the white man’s face. He stayed on it like he was savoring the experience of the nappy dugout. He backed away, licking his lips. The young woman placed her own middle finger into her vagina and pulled it out, while an older, slender, naked Hispanic woman gently took her hand and sucked all of her juices from her finger. She also licked the young woman’s belly button clean. The Hispanic woman’s tongue was long enough to touch her own chin. The receiving woman’s eyes bugged. She gave a welcoming smile as she squirmed counterclockwise.

  Her friend, who lay next to her, looked back toward her own booty as a woman flicked her tongue along the shape of her protruding buttocks. The giver managed to work her face in between the young woman’s cheeks, sliding her elongated tongue down to the point of her meaty split. The receiver groaned just as another woman kissed the small of her toned back, tracing her tongue all the way upward to her neck. The receiving woman turned to the side to look at her and within two seconds their mouths meshed together and their tongues met. They kissed for moments on end, as though only the two of them existed. It was a soft, girly moment of estrogen only.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Make it nasty. Make it nice. Make it wet. Make it erotic. This is Erotic City after all. If you can’t get your freak on in here, where can you go?” the hostess asked with a healthy laugh.

  Milan walked by wearing a long red sheer skirt that showed off her red boy shorts underneath. She had on a red silk bra and a leather collar around her neck. Her hair was wild and curly. She even had on red glittery eye shadow and fake eyelashes. She gave an approving nod to the mistress when she saw the crowd. Lavender was two steps behind her. Normally, Milan was a distraction when she’d mingle about, but at the moment very few heads even noticed her.

  Milan said, “Those women have nice bodies. No wonder that crowd is staying put.”

  “Yes, they do.” Lavender admired the young woman’s breasts as he and Milan headed on to the next room. But not before he looke
d over at his coworker and buddy, Brian, and raised his impressed eyebrows. Brian raised his back.

  “I’ll be your freakazoid, c’mon and wind me up.”

  A few seconds later, halfway through the song “Freakazoid,” Brian picked up one of the ladies and carried her to the nearby open shower, where she stood along the pale green slate tiles. He went back over and picked up the other woman, carrying her to the shower next to her friend. The females high-fived each other while the forceful sprays of water cleaned them up. The crowd now moved to where the ladies stood, getting a free, double shower view. The two women began hugging and grinding each other. It was an exhibitionist’s feast.

  Nearby, in the blue S&M room, the older Hispanic woman with the forever tongue now straddled a padded spanking bench, kind of like a riding post. It had a dark brown leather covering and wooden footrests. A blond man with a long beard walked up behind her and popped her ass with a black belt. The sound was deep and loud. She squeezed her eyes shut and jumped as though in pain, yet she poked her blushed ass back for more. And more he gave her indeed, this time with an extraexplosive dose of force. He whipped the hell out of her cherry-cola cheeks three more times.

  “Oooh, ouch. Yes.” Her face was as blushed as her booty flesh. One side of her butt read “Woman” and the other read “Whore.”

  Just as the two young women from the shower walked by with white body towels wrapped around them, one grabbed the hand of the woman who was getting spanked. The woman opened her Maybelline eyes and moved her curly hair to the side as the young woman spoke close to her ear. All three of them headed to a private room and closed the door.

  The master who had given the spanking now had another willing slave. A middle-aged woman stepped up to the bench and straddled it like she owned it. She had a chubby body and thick waist. She wore a silver clamp that bit into her left nipple. Her belly button was hidden by a few rolls of fat and her stretch marks were noticeable even in the modest light, but she sat up proudly wearing her very own birthday suit. Her face was pretty. Her short hair was laid. And she was ready.