by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow
This time we both burst out into laughter. So I continued, “Then I’ll come out like Laura fromLittle House on the Prairie with a maiden dress and pigtails and say, ‘He hurt me. I can’t take less than a hundred million. For my therapy, of course. ’Cause this isn’t about money…’ ”
I put my hand over my forehead and pretended that I was going to faint. Black laughed even louder.
“You’re crazy, Nicoli. You seem like a pro. Let me find out—”
“Let you find out what?”
“That you’re into scheming for money.”
“Who, me?” I innocently asked.
“No, seriously, what are you into?” he questioned.
“I don’t have any hobbies.”
“Do you work? Go to school? Both?”
“No.”
“Well, did you at least graduate from high school?”
“I got my GED when I was sixteen. I’m no dummy,” I said defensively.
“Baby-girl, you don’t understand what I’m trying to express here. Why settle for a GED when you can have a master’s degree? Do you have any aspirations in life?”
I took a moment to think, shrugged my shoulders, then said, “Not at the moment.”
Black exhaled like he was disappointed in my response. Then something went awry. “If you want nothing—you get nothing. I must admit, your beauty has gotten you this far with me. Being who I am, I’m blessed with a plethora of beautiful women daily. But if you don’t have a morsel of intelligence, baby-girl, I have no interest in you. I need to be stimulatedafter we fall out of bed.”
I nearly choked on my drink. The Rémy had me loosening up with this guy, and I was now being perceived as dumb. I was mad as hell, but not at Black. Even though I hadn’t finished high school and had no aspirations of going to college, I always had a high reading and math level.
This was all my fault. I had let my guard down with him because I had felt so comfortable. Correction—the Rémy had me feeling so comfortable. I usually give the whole “I’m going to college” spiel, but for some reason the alcohol made it easy for me to let my real character show. Big mistake.
“Well, if you think I’m dumb, what does that say about you?”
“Not much, I guess.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“Basically, we’ve been here five short minutes, and I’ve already grown bored with you.”
“Yo, fuck you. You know how many niggas would die to have me sittin’ up in their face lettin’ them spend their money on me? I got on four-hundred-dollar shoes! You better recognize,” I said and rolled my blue eyes. My voice had elevated to a high pitch. He just shook his head and said, “See, that’s your first mistake. Don’tever call me a nigga. I have a name. Your second mistake is thinking your beauty could get you everything you want, or shall I sayneed .”
This guy was on a fuckin’ roll. Why didn’t he just throw his drink in my face and call it a night? I was furious. I’d never been treated like this before.
“I guess you must be one of those college-educated, narcissistic brothers who get big kicks out of belittling people. Yeah, you’re a self-made millionaire. I know your story. But you’re a hypocrite just like everybody else,” I said, expanding my vocabulary just to show him I could.
“Narcissistic…hypocrite? Those are some big words. If you could explain to me just how you came up with that analysis, I’d actually start taking you seriously.”
“You say I use my beauty—well, you use your beauty as well. And then you cosign it with your money. Ordering a fifteen-hundred-dollar bottle of cognac for a girl you just met. You’re showing off, flauntin’ your wealth. And back at the BBQ, you were flashing that million-dollar smile of yours. And why do you work out at the gym? So that six-pack of yours can get you laid. Fuck you!” I yelled and pushed back in my chair, which crashed to the floor. I had no idea how I would be getting back to Brooklyn, but I was outta there.
Black stood up and grabbed my arm just as I was leaving. He pulled me in really close and whispered, “Could you?”
“What? Could I what?” I snapped.
“Fuck me? I’m only asking because you brought it up,” he said and flashed that million-dollar smile. And yes, the pussy started pulsating. Damn him! Damn his good looks, bangin’ body, and eight-figure bank account….
Chapter 4
Black’s penthouse apartment in Midtown had a private elevator entrance. Once inside, he pulled me in close and gave me a kiss. His lips were so soft, they felt like marshmallow. He teased me for a moment before his lips slightly parted and his tongue explored my mouth. He was the most experienced kisser I’d encountered. The kisses were passionate, as if we’d made love before.
In silence, we walked into Black’s lavish apartment. It seemed bigger than Central Park. Oh, to live like a celebrity was grand. He led me into the living room, then walked to his stereo and put on Luther Vandross’s greatest hits. Luther’s silky voice resonated throughout the apartment. And much to my amazement Black walked about the house, lighting scented candles to help accentuate the mood.
When he walked back to me, it was as if he were walking in slow motion. His body glistened in the candlelit room as he pulled off his T-shirt. It fell to the ground.
I was ready to fuck right there in the living room, but Black picked me up over his shoulders. At first, I thought he was about to be traditional and carry me to his bedroom. But he didn’t. He carried me to a sliding glass door that led outside to his terrace. It was huge—at least 2,000 square feet. He had a panoramic view of the whole city. He was truly on top of the world. The bright lights, dark sky, and tropical summer wind were so romantic, I quickly got lost in the mystique.
Black started to undress me on the terrace. He pulled my halter top over my head and stared at my ripe breasts for a moment. Then he leaned in and started to suck my nipples. I tilted my head back in pleasure, and my fingers ran through his soft hair. He fell to his knees and unbuttoned my pants. I stepped out of them instantly. I stood in front of him naked. I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“You got red hair on your pussy, too?” he breathed, breaking my concentration only for a moment. When I didn’t answer him, he playfully started to kiss in between my thighs. I moaned in ecstasy. Then he picked me up and brought me to his outside chaise lounge and gently put me down. There, he parted my legs and started to kiss around my pussy. My legs trembled in anticipation as he got more aggressive and began to lick, bite, and tease me with his tongue. But he didn’t venture near my clitoris. So I gently guided his head back down toward my pussy, and he shook lose. Annoyed, I made one last attempt to push his head back down below. Then he said, “Stop. I don’t do that.”
Reluctantly, I stopped concentrating on what he didn’t do and allowed myself to get swept away in what hedid do. In a matter of moments, I was shivering from his touch. He stuck his index finger in my vagina, and warm juices seeped out. He dove right back to sucking on my nipples and dry-humping my body. I was now in a frenzy. I reached for his dick, and when I grabbed it, I thought I’d died and gone to dick heaven. His rock-solid penis was so large my hand was unable to wrap totally around it.
“Fuck me. Take me now…,” I pleaded.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “You’re not ready yet.”
Then he commenced to tasting my whole body. No place was left untouched by his tongue. Slowly, he inserted each toe into his mouth and sucked until he heard me moan. Gradually, he moved to the inside of my thighs, nibbling until my body was shivering. He was so gentle and precise with his lovemaking. My body had become an inferno. I was literally drenched in sweat and he hadn’t even entered me yet.
Finally he gently positioned his body upon mine and tried to enter me. My pussy resisted at first, and he tried to back out. I dug my nails deep in his back and wrapped my legs around his ass, pulling him back into me. I wasn’t letting that dick go nowhere. Soon, after applying pressure, my stubborn walls caved in to his manhood, and he enter
ed like a stallion. He moved in and out with a synchronized rhythm that came from years of experience.
Then he put me in the frogs position, so I was lying on my back with my heels raised to my ass. Black placed my knees underneath his armpits and gently entered me. As the sex got intense, he started fucking me harder. My pussy was so wet it started making melodic tunes. “Swish…swish…swish.”
“It feel good?” Black crooned.
“Ummm…yes, Daddy. Fuck me.”
We switched into numerous positions, each time trying to surpass the last. As the sun rose, so did his dick. Again. We’d made love for hours, from the terrace to the bedroom. Sometimes it was fast and frenzied, then we’d slow it down and make soft and sensual love. At times he brought me to tears as I climaxed, digging my nails deep into his muscular back.
At the dawn of morning we both fell into a peaceful sleep. I moved over to the opposite end of his king-size bed. I knew men didn’t like cuddling after sex. But Black surprised me. His strong, pillarlike arm pulled me in close, and he kissed the side of my face, then quietly fell asleep.
I exhaled and smiled. I’d made it through the night with a celebrity without being sent home.
Chapter 5
Wanna go to breakfast?” Black asked. I was still asleep when he threw a pillow at my head. I yawned, stretched my body, then remembered where I was. I could feel it was early. I hardly ever got up before two o’clock in the afternoon.
I opened my eyes and focused on Black. He was fresh out the shower, body sparkling, with a monogrammed towel around his waist. I thought briefly about our lovemaking session last night and crimsoned.
“What time is it?” I responded.
“What difference does that make? Are you hungry? Or do you have to get home?”
“Naw, I’m cool. I don’t have to get home, but I don’t like gettin’ up and puttin’ back on the same shit. So, I think I better bounce.”
“Women! Here, put on this,” he said, tossing a brand-new Sean John sweat suit toward me. “I’m taking you shopping. Now, do you want to go to breakfast?”
Two seconds later, I was in the shower, grinning from ear to ear. He was taking me shopping! I was actually hinting for some dough, but I’d take an impromptu shopping spree any day.
I emerged from the shower feeling like a modern-day Cinderella. I put on the sweat suit, which was too big, but I put a little glamour to it. I rolled the waistline down a few times, so the pants hung below my belly, which showed off my belly ring. I took one of his T-shirts and cut it around the neckline and waist, then I tied it on the side. I left the jacket on the bed and put on my heels. Actually, I looked rather cute. I pulled my hair back in a tight ponytail and put on my pale pink lip gloss. We headed out of his building hand in hand. I had to admit I didn’t know where this relationship was going. Or if it was a relationship. All I knew was that it felt good.
Soon my girls were calling my cell phone like crazy. Each time I’d look at the number, but wouldn’t answer. I was pretending they were calls that I couldn’t take. I was testing Black. Soon, he fell for the bait.
“Who’s that? Your man? Significant other, or boy-toy calling?” he asked. I didn’t verbally respond. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes up in my head as if I was being stalked.
“Next time he call, pick up and tell that brother you’re with me. Tell him who the fuck you’re with,” he angrily stated.
“It’s not even like that,” I said, then stuffed my mouth with my scrambled eggs.
Black and I were at Kato’s. The prestigious restaurant was serving lunch, but Black had the chef prepare breakfast especially for us.
I decided I wanted to really get to know Black personally, so I asked, “So, Black, do you have a girlfriend?”
“I had a butter face.”
“What?” I said.
“Yes. I was dating this girl, and everything was pretty but her face,” he said and exploded in laughter.
I was deadpan silent.
“Bad joke.”
“Indeed. But I’m glad to see you loosenin’ up. Shit, the only things I like stiff are a dick and a drink.”
“Are you always this honest?” he asked.
“Could you please answer my question first? Do you have a girlfriend? Someone to help you count your millions?”
“I have friends.”
“Then what?”
“Then they want to live happily ever after, which isn’t what I’m after. So I have no choice but to end the relationship.”
“Oh,” I said wondering when he would end our relationship.
“But I must admit you’re the youngest person I’ve taken out in a long while.”
“That’s what’s up,” I cheered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What had happened?”
“Look, I’m confused. Nothing happened. No action occurred, nor is anything up. Listen, Nicoli, either leave the slang back in Brooklyn, or we can end our friendship here and now. You seem like an intelligent young lady who gets kicks out of being facetious. I’m thirty-four years old and don’t have the patience that I used to in my younger years. So if you don’t want to turn me off, think before you speak,” he lectured, and I almost got bored with him. He was being too uptight. But I said, “Not a problem.”
And we continued our breakfast.
Next, we drove to Fifth Avenue, and just like Black promised, he took me shopping. We went from Prada to Chanel, Gucci, Christian Dior, and finally Bergdorf Goodman. Nothing was spared as he lavished his wealth on me.
Now, I was familiar with shopping in Prada, Chanel, Gucci, and Christian Dior. But I had never been inside Bergdorf Goodman. Black took me to the third floor, to a designer called John Galliano. I picked up a pair of hip-huggers, and they cost $3,000. My jaw dropped to the floor.
“You want those?” Black inquired.
I took a moment to regain my composure. I didn’t want him to realize that I wasn’t used to men spending such an obscene amount of money on me. So I said, “They cute. I actually just bought a similar pair last week.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“Yeah…I guess…I mean yes, I want them. What do you think?”
“I think your sexy ass would look extremely attractive in those. But, truthfully, I’m really thinking about ripping them off of you,” he said. He walked over to me, cupped my ass in his hands, and gave me a succulent kiss. I playfully bit his bottom lip, then sucked it. Within moments we were making out on the store room floor. His huge dick was pressing up against my pelvis, and for a brief moment, I wanted to leave this shopping shit behind and go fuck. I came to my senses, backed off slowly, and continued my shopping.
We left Midtown with numerous bags, and they were all for me. I was in an extremely jovial mood, so I decided to play a guessing game with Black, have a little fun.
“Black, you have three chances to name the movie that said, ‘You don’t understand, Momma…you don’t understand. He’s as big-time as you can get.’ ”
I was mimicking the actor in the movie. I continued, “ ‘I lived in Harlem all my life. I do know arat when I see one.’ ”
Black smiled at my theatrics. He seemed tickled. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Nicoli, I don’t know.”
“Guess,” I pressured.
“Baby-girl, I said I don’t know. Okay,Lady Sings the Blues .”
I rolled my eyes. “Sparkle. How could you not know the answer?”
“It’s such an innocuous phrase. I’m sorry I didn’t commit it to memory.”
“Well, that’s my favorite movie. Maybe we could watch it some time,” I hinted. I wondered if my brief time with Black would be ending soon. I had observed him looking at his watch quite a few times, so to avoid humiliation, I said, “Yo, I gotta break out. Git back to my crib…I mean, I should be going home soon. My mother may be worried.”
“So, you just gonna take the bags and run?” he said, smiling.
“Well, I did have
that in mind. Do you have a better plan?” I joked.
Black squeezed my hand and said, “You coming back with me.”
For the next three days I treated Black like royalty. I’d get up every morning and cook breakfast. He fell in love with my French toast and fluffy scrambled eggs. Noticeably, Black started to loosen up. He tried really hard to crack jokes and make me laugh. One night Black brought home two large water guns. We filled them up with water and ran around his apartment completely naked, squirting each other. We laughed and giggled until our stomachs hurt. On the third day we both decided that he’d better get me home. I suggested he call me a cab, but he insisted on driving me himself. This time he drove in his Mercedes G-500 truck.
When we pulled up on Jefferson Avenue in Brooklyn with his speakers bumping Nelly’s “It’s Getting Hot in Herre,” all heads turned. The music was so loud, I thought if he turned it up one decibel higher, my eardrums would burst. I got out the passenger’s side, walked around to the driver’s side, and leaned in and gave Black a succulent kiss good-bye.
“Stay put. I’ll call you later,” he promised.
“Okay,” I sweetly replied.
Someone yelled from down the block, “Yo, Nicoli, who dat?”
Black and I ignored the question. I ran upstairs with my shopping bags to call my girls. We definitely had some juicy shit to discuss.
Chapter 6
Iran into my small bedroom and plopped on my bed. I looked around at my decor and was disgusted. The baby-pink paint on my walls and my pink carpeting seemed juvenile. I’d had the same twin-size canopy bed since I was ten years old. After Black’s plush apartment, my own surroundings seemed dismal.
My girls came in.
“Omigod! What did you do to dat nigga?” Joy asked as she watched me pull my brand-new clothing out of my bags. Joy had on a blue velour J-Lo sweat suit and a pair of black Prada sneakers. Her hair was wrapped in bobby pins because she had just returned from getting a wash ’n set from the Dominican lady up the block. Her light skin was a shade darker than the last time I’d seen her.
