by Sienna Mynx
“I don’t want to get the bed dirty,” I say and smile.
“I can fuck you standing up,” he says.
“Make love. You can make love to me, standing up.”
“I can make love to you standing up,” he says.
“First, I want to say hello.” I step toward him and go to my knees. I move his hand from his cock and take it into my own. One corner of his mouth lifts as he stares down at me. I let my tongue circle the head of his cock, a slow swirl more like a lick of your favorite lollipop. Now I have his full attention. I fondle his balls with one hand while guiding his dick into my mouth with his other. A technique he taught me in the bayou. I wet the tip of his cock with long drags of my tongue and then I swallow as much as I can. I’m suctioning to pull him deeper and stroking my tongue along the sides and underside of his shaft. Is it possible his dick is getting harder? He’s already so thick he put a strain on my jaws. But I’m no quitter. I couldn’t help the little slurping sounds I’m making. I can feel his balls harden in my hand and pull closer to his groin while sucking. I dive again, taking him deeper to my throat, lunging faster and faster.
“Stop! Stop, Coco! Stop,” he begs and I know if I don’t, I’ll choke on the explosion mounting to rip from his cock and pour deep into my throat. I let him go. He pulls me up and pushes me back so I lie flat to the bed with my legs hanging over. Thankfully the drape is parted so it doesn’t come off from his abrupt actions. He goes in and I more than welcome the event. A single thrust followed by another and another. We are on the edge of the bed, both our feet on the floor until mine lift and cross at the ankle to the base of his spine.
There is just a glimmer of the sun left as it burns against the horizon and cast a final ray of orange sunburst into the windows. Darkness descends and my eyes close. Brick is kissing my face and moving in and out of me lovingly. He shoves up my shirt to see my breasts that I don’t bother to cover in a bra. He wants to suck them, I can tell. But he can’t stop moving even for a second to allow himself the pleasure. My clit is teased against his, the wiry curls at the root of his shaft and my climax is pitching to the surface. Before long I’m scratching and clawing at him as my climax unloads.
She’s so soft. That’s what I love about her body, besides the curves, it’s the way she feels between her legs and inside. We lie together on top of the covers of the bed. The window is open and I can see the trees and hear the ocean outside. I can’t sleep. Not now. I don’t want to miss a minute of this bliss. She’s mine again. I wasted so much time fearing this moment, longing for this moment, running from this moment. Now it’s here.
I kiss her shoulder. She doesn’t move.
Her hair is free from the ponytail and its curls are everywhere and covering her face. I want to kiss her but I can barely see her. So I lie there and stare out at the night through our window in the bungalow.
“I miss it, Coco,” I say softly.
She snores lightly. She doesn’t respond.
“I miss my sax,” I tell her. “I lost you both. That’s why I’ve been so angry.”
It felt good to say the words out loud, even if no one heard them. I know the source of my pain. And with her I know I can start over. I want to start over. We deserve our second chance.
I open my eyes to darkness. I’m not sure when I fell asleep but I did so in his arms. When he holds me like he does, and whispers about my beauty, his love for me, I see the world differently—through rose colored glasses. Maybe it isn’t realistic to think the years of trauma between us can evaporate after one night together. But when I’m in his arms I believe anything is possible.
I try to move and Brick tightens his hold. I struggle to check the time on my watch. How long have we been lying here?
“Where do you have to be?” he asks once I move the sheer drape and leave the bed. “Why not stay here with me?”
I turn on the light. My watch says it’s ten. It feels later. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too.”
“Let me cook for you.”
He smiles as I leave the room. I go into the kitchen and start dinner. It isn’t long before he comes in to keep me company. I glance up at him walking around the bungalow checking out the things, which are mostly tourism mementos.
“So what have you been doing since we broke up?” I ask.
“Dealership, working in the family business.”
“Oh? How’s Smoke?”
He doesn’t answer. I glance up at him staring at the pages of an open book in his hand. “Brick?”
“Huh?”
“How is Smoke?”
“I don’t know.” He puts the book back and goes over to the futon and sits. I put the grouper filets I’ve seasoned in the oven.
“Why don’t you know?”
“He and I don’t speak. We haven’t in years. He rarely comes by the camp. Pops goes fishing and drinking with him but I… I never see him.”
I cut the plantains and set them aside on the plate while I boil the rice. I’m trying to gauge whether or not to ask the next question, and then Brick explains.
“We had a fight, Coco. He wanted me to try to blow again. I told him the doctors said it was pointless. He said I was a coward. Said every man he knew had taken it in the jaw and picked up their instrument with no problem. I got angry and retaliated. I shut down the Bone Room. Pops didn’t care. It upset Smoke so much he went back to Houma. He hasn’t been in the Quarter since.”
Brick turns and looks at me. “Another shitty thing I did.”
“So you never played again? Ever?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Yes.”
I look up and he smiles at me. I didn’t expect that answer. I don’t think he did either. I debate telling him of my surprise. Things are good between us. Are we ready to go back to the pain without causing each other more of it?
“I miss it too. That’s why I put you in my musical. My version of you.”
“Yeah, I saw,” he chuckles.
I look up at him. Brick smile fades. He knows he’s slipped and said too much.
“I know you came to my opening night Brick.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, and you brought a friend.”
“I was an idiot. I only did it because…”
“Because you were angry, and you needed to be angry at me.”
“Georgie told you?”
“Only recently, she spared me the details. Did you like the musical?”
“I did. A lot.”
“Thanks, Brick. That means so much to me.”
I turn down the rice and stir in the beans. I let it simmer and come over to him. I guess an island dinner would be a perfect way to end to the night. I sit on his lap. He kisses my cheek.
“I want you to try to play again,” I tell him.
“Maybe.”
I get up from his lap and go into the bedroom. I turn over the big suitcase and take out the saxophone case. I bring it out of the room to him. He stares at it and me. He smiles. “I knew you kept it.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it?” I say and put it on the coffee table before him. He stares at it. He doesn’t speak. I can tell he has so much emotion in him it’s hard to. I sit next to him and stare at the saxophone case.
“What do you think?”
“What if I can’t play like I used too? What then?”
“You train, you try and try until you create a new sound. Whatever that might be. What do you think?”
“I think you might be the only person who I love enough to inspire me.”
I lean over and kiss him. He returns my kiss and then looks to the saxophone. He takes it out of the case.
“Did you name her?” he asks.
“No. She’s not mine to name.” I say and go back to the kitchen to finish cooking. I can see him staring at Jezebel. Running his hands over her. I can’t wait to hear him play.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There’s a squ
ealing piercing sound that wakes me and forces me to sit upright in bed. I’m naked so I hold the sheet to my breast. It comes again but it’s not as piercing. Still it sounds awful. Taking the sheet with me I move the drape to the left side of the bed and get out. I wrap the sheet around my body. In comes the noise again which has a melodious note to it. Still awful, but an improvement.
I walk out of the bedroom into the living area. The front door is open. Brick is on the porch with the saxophone blowing into it. I watch him for several minutes. When he continues to try there is not much sound at all coming. It’s as if his lungs can’t push through enough air. I had wished that this would be much easier for him. It looks like it will take time.
Instead of interrupting him I leave him to it. My body is sticky and icky from our night. The sheets need to be changed. There is plenty to do and breakfast to make. My cell phone beeps from the dresser. Dropping the blanket, I pick it up. There’s a message asking a single question: How are things? It’s from Georgie.
I text her back my answer: Perfect
She must have had the cell phone near her because within seconds Georgie calls. I answer while Brick tries again to blow into his saxophone.
“Hey!” Georgie answers before I speak.
“Hey?” I reply.
“Soo… perfect huh?”
“It really is Georgie. We talked and things are… so good between us.”
“Really? We are talking about Brick?”
“He’s okay, I think he needed this vacation more than me,”
“Wait, hold on a sec. Marcel? Marcel? Coco says Brick is okay. That they are in love again!”
I laugh. I didn’t say that but it’s exactly what I meant. This is love again. Brick blows again into the saxophone and it’s a horrible loud noise.
“What is that?”
“Oh, nothing, just some tourists on the beach. How are things with you guys?”
“I broke down and lost the fight, girl. I wanted to wait until my wedding night, but Marcel wouldn’t stay off me.”
“That’s so yummy. You two are already married. Might as well enjoy him as much as you can.”
“True. I know you’re against marriage, but maybe you and Brick will be, too, soon.”
I glance to the window where I hear him playing. I’m no longer against marriage or babies. I know what the world is like without Brick. I want him always. But I hold my tongue for my best friend. If I say anything she’ll run to the hills with it.
“Well I’m going to go, me and Marcel are going to do some parasailing today.”
“Have fun!”
“See you guys in a few days, love you.”
“Love you too, Georgie.”
I put the phone down.
“Was that Georgie?” Brick says and startles me. I look back and he’s panting. He’s wearing long Hawaiian shorts and no shirt. He has his saxophone in his hand.
“Yeah, she was checking in on us.”
“Making sure I didn’t chop you up and bury you on the beach?”
“Ah, that’s a weird way to put it but yea, I suppose.”
Brick smiles.
“I heard you this morning?”
“It’s me clearing my lungs and working my jaws. I haven’t really tried to play yet. Just exercising,” he says.
“Oh? Okay… well I’m going to take a shower.”
“Me too!” he says and put the saxophone down. I laugh to myself. Brick drops his shorts. I shake my head and go out the side door of our room to the outdoor shower. I wanted to take one last night but I was afraid too, in case there were bugs. Now I’m still a little afraid. Brick opens the wooden stall and goes right in past me. He turns on the water and howls as it pours over him. Ugh, this island have plenty of black residents. They should know better. Especially how we black girls hate showers that wet our hair? Before I can object he pulls me in with him. I’m shivering, the water is so cold. But in a matter of minutes my body adjusts to it since the humidity and heat makes it feel like it’s ninety degrees outside.
“It sure is hot out here to be so early in the morning.”
“It’s not early, it’s almost eleven,” he says while kissing my neck and squeezing my ass.
“What?”
“Yep, I let you sleep in, we didn’t get back to bed until around two last night.”
I try to go for the soap but Brick won’t stop kissing me under the spray of the shower. His hands grip my hips and he turns and pins me up against the wooden plank shower wall. He’s taller than me so I’m lifted, as well. Brick’s cockhead nudges my entrance as his tongue swirls in my mouth. A single powerful stroke pushes the air from my lungs. Then he followed it with more rough, jolting thrusts. His movements are as raw as my backside rubbing against the splintering wood. The sound he makes is so primal, and our outside wilderness of palms and coconuts so earthy that I feel like me Jane, he Tarzan. Every inch of my sex suffers the tension as he pounds in and out of me repeatedly.
“You’re so good, Coco, so goddamn tight. I missed this pussy so much, so much,” he says now looking me in the eye while loving me. From one breath to the next he was in and out of me. His nostrils flared as he watches my every facial expression and he bangs up in and and out of me.
“Did he ever touch you like this? Fuck you like this?” Brick asks.
“No,” I sigh.
“But you weren’t faithful to me,” I say.
Brick stops. My head is reeling from the sudden brake. I open my eyes and I see him frowning at me. “What? What’s wrong?”
“None of them meant anything to me. None of them. I thought you were gone forever. I was self medicating. I always used protection. Every time. I swear.”
I smile and touch the side of his face. He continues to move in and out of me while I kiss his lips. My ass is raw and the pain and pleasure of it all intensifies. His eyes closed and he pulses forward. Again he works my pussy, pushing in and out of hot engorged tissue. No matter how much the tiny scrapes I endure to my backside, perversely, I don’t want this to end. I like it too much. I can stare eye to eye with him. His hardened features, his dark gaze, that tough, muscular frame of his, all of him is mine. And when his movements quickened, I’m right there with him. My hips buck and I let go a string of dirty words to make him break. “Fuck me, Brick. Fuck me harder. You’re so good baby, so good, give it to me. Oh yeah, like that,” I say.
Brick stiffens and does me in the most primal way delivering primal surges and shudders that break me down to the core. It’s done. He’s done. I’m holding on to him so tight. Finally he lets me go and I can bring down my legs. There’s cramping between my thighs and my ass is fiery hot.
“You okay?” he asks.
I smile and nod. When I get to stand under the cool shower Brick touches my ass.
“It’s red. I’m sorry, Coco.”
“It’s okay. Let’s not do that again, though, okay? Unless you want me to put your back up against that wood.”
He gives me a sheepish grin and I shake my head smiling. At least I can now shower with him in peace. Well sorta, he’s touching and pinching my nipples the whole time.
Coco’s hand is in mine as we walk the beach. I fixed us breakfast. Some of the left over fish from last night I warmed up in a pan with butter and onions and made a fresh pot of grits to pour it over. We ate and laughed. I tried again to play for her but each time sounded worse than the last. Coco didn’t mind. I didn’t mind. It’s like having my other half again.
And then she modeled for me. All of these sexy bikini’s that made my mouth water. I wish she hadn’t waxed her pussy bald but when she put on those string bikini’s I understand why. We choose the tangerine orange one and she ties a sheer orange sarong around her waist before we leave for the beach. I hold her hand in mine. She carries a large straw bag with towels and bottles of water for us.
The beach is deserted. Empty. It’s like it’s all ours. The sand is white and fine, the waters along the shore clear. I can see ma
ny sail boats out there. We have a row boat of our own.
“Let’s go.” I say to the row boat.
She has on a large flopping hat and sunglasses. She looks up at me and smiles. “Okay.”
We get to the boat and I help her in, then I push it off the sand and into the water. I hop in and nearly capsize it. She squeals and laughs. I pick up the oars and start to row us out to the larger waves.
Coco relaxes under the sun. Her skin is bronzing like a freshly minted penny. Tiny beads of perspiration cover her flat tummy and thick thighs. I can stare at her forever.
“Do you still have your flat in the Quarter?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her. “I sold it.”
“Whyyyyy?” she says with disappointment.
“I never go down to the Quarter, lately. The money offer was good. There are some swank new condos off of Julia’s Street on Gallery Row. I bought one there.”
“Oh,” she says.
“Where do you stay?” I ask. “Is New York your home?”
“Yep, Manhattan. I have a condo too. My mom bought it for me with her settlement money. She visits from time to time.”
“Your parents don’t talk at all now?” I ask and keep rowing. The boat sways, the sea is pretty calm.
“Nope. Not at all. I don’t speak to my father, either. I did attend his wedding.”
“Why?” I ask.
She leans over the side of the boat and touches the water. “I dunno. My grand-mère begged me. Said it would be good for all the children to be there. He’s Mayor, now. He’s my father.”
“I understand. As much as I hate Pops most of the time, I can’t seem to push him out of my life.”
