Carry-on Baggage: Our Nonstop Flight

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Carry-on Baggage: Our Nonstop Flight Page 18

by Bailey Thomas, Cynthia,Thomas, Peter,Short, Rochelle,Saunders, Keith


  It only takes one glance at Peter’s children to know they have been cherished, loved and cared for with all the love a mom could give. Their mothers have done sensational jobs in producing fine human beings. I have always given Peter just as much credit, because I know raising good kids requires a great deal of work from both parents. I’m impressed by his choice of such solid, upstanding women to mother his children. In the end, Peter’s circumstances are no different than my situation with Leon. As a couple, we didn’t work, but we stayed committed to raising a balanced and happy child. Peter and his exes are cut from the same fabric. We all understand that relationships come and go, but the kids created in them are forever.

  CHAPTER IX

  Mile-High Club

  Our Intimacy

  Peter’s Bumping

  Like most relationships in the beginning, Cynthia and I had an explosive sexual and physical attraction. Every time we saw each other we would jump right into it. The sex was always incredible! It was all we wanted to do. Once she moved to Georgia and we set up shop, our frequency stopped like school lunches during Christmas break. We went from several times a week, to a few times a month – all the way down to once a full moon. The stress of our finances and the show put a huge dent in our intimacy.

  Going into our fourth season on the show, you would think we’d have more bedroom time and be beyond caring what people think of us. It’s the exact opposite. Cynthia is still stalking the hell out of Twitter and social media! She has an insatiable need to keep up with everything that’s posted, tweeted, liked or mentioned about us. It works for her in some strange way, but it pisses me off in every way. She’s still stuck in her morning and nightly routine of checking the latest Peter and Cynthia dish. It’s like she’s having an online affair right in my face. Most nights, I just go to sleep and dream about all the things I could be doing to her.

  On a good day, when she’s feeling frisky, she’ll put down the iPad and come to bed wearing a T-shirt and no panties. I’ll know for sure that she’s in the mood when she positions herself seductively in the middle of our bed, instead of lying on her side. Sometimes, she’ll just reach over and start sensually caressing my hand. It’s like she saying, “I’m throwing you a bone, Negro…throw me ONE back!”

  She knows it’s always about her scent for me. I’ll enjoy the foreplay of her touch for as long as I can take it, but when I lean over and smell her…it’s on! That’s around the time she’ll tell me to get up and lock our door. We learned the hard way that you don’t have sex behind an unlocked door, with an adolescent in the house.

  If ever Noelle would call out a few times to Cynthia and not get an answer back, she would come to the bedroom door and try the knob. Before I came along, Noelle was an only child living alone with her mom, so I understood the habit. Now, we make sure the damn door is locked before the clothes come off! Whenever my wife walks in and locks the doors behind her right away, I already know it’s gonna be one of those don’t come knocking if the door frame is rocking kind of nights.

  The better her workday goes, the greater my chances of scoring between the sheets. Still, we don’t have time for it the way we used to. Cynthia and I are at a stage where we’re doing everything possible to never be financially screwed again. When you’ve suffered through all that we have, unless you’re sitting on a stack in the bank, you become preoccupied with getting your money up. We don’t have an obsession with it, but there’s an awareness that it could all be gone again tomorrow.

  I’m not saying I don’t think about sex. The thought pops in my head ten times a day, every day! When I see Cynthia stepping out of the shower or getting dressed, my mind naturally goes there. She is sexy, intricately built and fine as hell. I know there’s a long line of men on hold, hoping our shit won’t work out, but I don’t entertain the ratchetness. I’m too focused on trying to get with Cynthia whenever and wherever I can. Just the thought of her makes me want to get up in the morning and work my ass off. She motivates me to go the distance at a pace that’s unheard of.

  We’re on a mission to get more bar ONE franchises established and The Bailey Agency on concrete ground. Fortunately, our opportunities take us on the road pretty frequently, and we are able to use the time to reconnect as a couple. Once, we were in Los Angeles on business and got back to our room around seven in the evening. It was a no-brainer moment. No kids, a beautiful suite, sturdy mattress and nothing but time on our hands. Cynthia looked at me and asked, “Baby, you wanna have sex?” I was like, “Really? Hell yeah!”

  Cynthia beyond satisfies me, and I’m a brutha who always completes any assignment I’m given in the bedroom. Getting away from our everyday surroundings has a way of putting us back into the mix. My thing is taking Cynthia to a tropical paradise a couple of times a year. We were intimate as hell during the time we spent in Anguilla for the renewal of our wedding vows. Dropping us in a striking setting is like putting a new pack of batteries in our back. We work hard at finding “us time,” but we understand that a successful relationship isn’t just about good sex; it’s also about power and access.

  Ten years from now, we don’t want to be in a situation where we’re lacking for anything. Noelle will be in college and my youngest will be on his way. We’re setting up to coast through the second half of our lives and generate the financial freedom to truly enjoy each other. I just pray we will have the physical stamina and good looks we have today. It would be a shame to have a shit load of money and not be attracted to each other – or be too broke down to spend it.

  We want to tap into a level of security where we’re able to maintain our independence well past our seventies. The last thing we want is to have to rely on handouts from others. With age, it’s normal for parents to depend on their kids for support, but it’s a burden we don’t want to put on them. We are parents who take an extreme amount of satisfaction in supporting our children. I want us to be the kind of support system that my dad was for me. When I needed him most, he didn’t blink an eye at giving me every dime he could put his hands on to build Uptown. I was at an age when I should have been setting up my parents for their future, but they were still reaching back to help me. Cynthia and I are creating the groundwork for prosperity that will not only take care of us, but also our parents and children.

  Cynthia’s Bumping

  Sex is a priority in the beginning of any relationship. It’s a time where everything is new, fun and both people are still exploring each other. New couples have tired sex when they’re busy. Regardless of the place or time, they get it in. As a relationship grows, tired people take their asses to sleep! If given the choice between eight hours of sleep or having sex, I’m going for the eight hours. Peter and I are sexually matched, but his bark is so much bigger than his bite that he would never admit it. When he says he could have sex every day, in his mind he’s really just projecting a Cinemax After Dark fantasy. In real life, he works extremely hard and needs sleep at the end of a long day. We are both happiest after a full night’s rest.

  I have been a career woman my whole life. If I were a stay-at-home mom, I’d probably have the energy to be more domestically diverse. It’s hard being Superwoman – a mother, lover, wife and entrepreneur. It’s an unrealistic goal to think any woman can wear all those hats and still make sex a daily priority. As his wife, I realize I have a responsibility to take care of Peter’s needs. But as an equal-parts contributor to our household, I don’t feel it’s fair for him to expect sex as often as he would if I didn’t work. Between the responsibilities of my agency, appearances, travel and household demands – I do good just to take off my full face of Broadway makeup at night.

  I know Peter wants sex on a more consistent basis, and sometimes he’ll even get a little pouty about not getting it. Especially if I’ve worn something sexy that got his blood pumping. He’s a man that wants what he wants, when he wants it. I could have on a freshly steamed dress, ready to walk out the door an
d he’ll be trying to crack the code on my zipper.

  I strive to give him quality time at least once a week. Personally, I would be good with a delicious meal and a glass of wine. I just like spending time with my husband. However, I take that extra step and try to make our date night a little more special with a romantic dinner and movie. If one of us isn’t already snoring by the time the candles are lit, I’ll even throw in some sex.

  I’m not asserting that a working woman should have a permission slip to deprive her man, but I do feel honesty and setting realistic expectations goes a long way. Even if I’m too tired or too busy to give up the goodies, I will at least acknowledge Peter and give him a specific time when we can be together. He’s usually good with that. In the absence of sex, the bedroom connection is still important. At minimum, Peter can always expect cuddling and my leg kicked over his. My foot has to be rubbing his leg in order for me to fall asleep. Once I feel his skin next to mine, all is right in my world.

  Sexual compatibility is an important denominator in choosing a mate. I’m more concerned with quality than quantity. I’d rather have great sex twice a month than okay sex every day. In my twenties, my perspective was a lot different. I would have had sex on a private jet at twenty-six, but I’m too much of a germaphobe at forty-six. Peter and I aren’t spring chickens. We’re both approaching fifty, and at our ages, pulling over on the highway to have sex sounds more dangerous than erotic. That’s some old freaks out there doing all that creative screwing. Consistent sex is freaky for us.

  We have our own unspoken language of intimacy. Peter can pick up on my body energy when I’m giving him the green light for action. If I move to the center of our bed, that’s his hint to pass into the red-light district. He also knows when there’s a chance for him to score, simply by the way I position myself in bed. But if I’m lying with my pillow fluffed up just right, in a perfectly cozy spot – ain’t no magic happening unless David Copperfield is hiding under the bed.

  When the time does come, there is nothing lacking in our lovemaking. On a scale of one to ten, I would say my freak number is right in the middle at five, a respectable eight! Peter is definitely a great, attentive lover. Somebody lied if they ever said Peter Thomas didn’t know how to do the damn thang! When we get down, we get down! Peter knows my one-day sales aren’t very frequent, so when the Cynthia Bailey store is open for business, he always tries to get a little of everything.

  We are so busy trying to revive our fortune that intimacy has taken on a different meaning. We’ve learned there are so many ways to express tenderness in a marriage outside of sex – from holding hands to watching a movie and eating popcorn in bed. Sex is important for us, but not all the time. It’s not a sign of a trouble in our marriage, it’s maturity. Being two very passionate and driven people, we find intimacy in supporting each other’s careers.

  I love to see Peter in a suit, being a boss, telling people what to do. Success is sexy. Power has always been a major turn-on for me. It makes us desirable to each other. Our marriage may seem like a business to some, but when you start out a relationship in the red, it’s a nonstop quest to get in the black. Once we achieve a certain level of success, we’ll be able to enjoy each other without having fears of the unknown.

  Different things work for different couples. A woman who can talk goals and business strategies will get my husband harder than Mount Rushmore. Peter and I have experienced sex from the rags and the riches sides of the bed. I can say firsthand that successful sex is a lot more fun than broke sex. Financial freedom is more captivating than any piece of lingerie in Frederick’s of Hollywood. When your money is funny and Comcast has blacked out all but three channels, sex doesn’t come up a lot. The hot topic of the day is usually centered on how to get the damn cable back on.

  Peter doesn’t share that disposition. Our mortgage company could be auctioning off our property, while Georgia Power is out back shutting off the meter, and Peter would still be trying to squeeze in a ten-minute quickie. Where the hell they roll like that? Sex is mental for me! I have to be completely at peace. If I’m happy, I’m more than happy to have sex. If I’m not relaxed mentally, there is no way my body can get into it. I operate primarily off how I feel, and my moods definitely dictate my sexual habits.

  I’m the best lover when I’m centered. On our vacation to Anguilla, where Peter arranged for our vow renewal, I was in such a beautiful space emotionally. Noelle was being cared for by my mom, and there was lots of good food and wine. Peter and I were both calm. I was happy to give him a piece every day – sometimes twice a day. When we have those moments, it reminds us both of how great we are when we’re well-balanced.

  In relationships, the goal is to relish as many extraordinary moments as possible. Peter and I are authentic enough to own who we are and all our differences. We are happily married, attracted to each other and realistic about our sexual capabilities. There is no one formula that works for all couples. Every marriage has bad times; that’s why it’s important to enjoy the hell out of the good ones. We have those sweet and bitter intervals, just like any other normal couple. Some months are great and everything falls into place – where all the kids are happy, everyone makes honor roll and nobody asks for any money. But we also have months where Murphy’s Law wreaks havoc on our household. Both of us are imperfect, so the expectation for the relationship to be perfect doesn’t exist.

  Peter’s Flotation Device

  The way we express intimacy progresses as our relationship does. I get off on Cynthia just putting her legs over mine at night or watching her get dressed. I look at her and think, “Yeah, all that’s mine.” By the same token, being married to a woman like Cynthia comes with the pressure of keeping my ass in the gym. I want her flame to always be lit for me! She makes it clear that I satisfy her, but it’s not enough for me. I want her to roll over in the morning, look at me and want to eat my ass alive. If I had it my way, she’d be trying to give me some every time she sees me. I want to be her eye candy, and keep it together for her the way she does for me. Even the thought of her not being attracted to me anymore makes me want to drop down and do a hundred push-ups.

  The whole keeping it sexy thing is for my benefit too. I don’t want to just look good in my clothes – I want to look great. I’m not trying to be the sixty-year-old guy in the back of the bar with the potbelly. I want to be able to look down over my belt and see my shit. It’s not a good look to have to stand in front of a mirror to find your family jewels.

  My dad is seventy-five years old, and for a dude who’s had a quadruple bypass, he looks remarkable. He’s a Jehovah’s Witness that gets plenty of stares from the ladies when he walks into the Kingdom Hall for Sunday service. I know my mom gets a kick out of it and is more than proud to be on his arm. When I’m seventy-five, I want Cynthia to have that same reaction to me.

  I look at intimacy in a relationship like a pilot light; sometimes you turn it up and let it rip – sometimes you turn it down and let it simmer. We’re not pups in our thirties, we’re old dogs. We are in a period of extreme grind that keeps us exhausted, so we look for ways to be intimate without sex. Working with the one you love to build an empire is stimulating. We’re naturally competitive and absolutely refuse to settle for anything less than what we’re shooting for. I can’t think of a greater intimacy than having a mission shared by a couple. We appreciate every moment together.

  We challenge each other on every level. I love teaching her things, but because she’s so introspective, I’ve probably learned a lot more from her. I want it all and see everything as a business, while Cynthia puts things into true perspective, helping us stay grounded. Her strong standards help me set boundaries, specifically in business. For example, once I’m home, there are very few matters that can’t wait until morning to be handled. So, I now instruct my staff not to call me between 10:00 p.m. and 10:00 a.m.

  I’ve gotten better at managing my work balance a
nd outside distractions. Women approach me with jump-off angles on a daily basis, but I don’t see or think about any woman but my wife. Only one in a thousand will come at me crazy and say something fucked up. Most make it clear that they want us to win, and tell me how much Cynthia and I inspire them. We love it. It makes us want to fight harder for each other and find happiness in our marriage. We never stop thanking God for all that what we’ve got.

  Cynthia’s Flotation Device

  It turns me on to know I do it for Peter. Since day one, he’s looked at me like a plate of smothered pork chops with a side of candied yams. I find it alluring he is so attracted to me that he can’t hide it. He is committed in a way that doesn’t require a fidelity chaperone. Not even for a second have I given pause to the possibility of Peter having a sexual relationship with another woman. I’m not saying he won’t flirt, but I can’t see him going Monica Lewinsky.

  As a bar owner, his business is entrenched in the nightlife. Whodini said it best when they put it on blast that “the freaks come out at night.” Certain women aren’t deterred by a man wearing a band on his ring finger. I always remind Peter that a woman who would sleep with a married man is also one who would be sure to tell the world about it. That is especially true if that man is on a hit reality show and goes by the name of Peter Thomas. I go to sleep at night with the assurance that Peter fully knows how much he has to lose. He understands that stepping outside of our marriage would be a game changer.

 

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