Twisted

by Tracy Brown

  When Celeste had left New York four years ago, she had brought with her a bunch of pictures of Rah-lo alone, pictures of them together, pictures of Ishmael, Pappy, Harry, J-Shawn—of days gone by and all the fun they’d had. But she hadn’t allowed herself to look at those pictures in years. They brought back too many memories for her, and she had tucked them away in the back of her storage closet. Now, seeing pictures of Rah-lo and Ishmael sent her right back in time and she found herself on a journey down memory lane. Rah-lo’s beautiful lips were spread into a smile, and Ishmael’s sexy physique filled out his button-up perfectly. For a moment, as she stared at the photograph, Celeste couldn’t decide which one of them she missed more—the man she’d loved for years or his best friend, who made her panties wet.

  “Hey, girl, what time are you leaving today?”

  Celeste was startled by Keisha’s voice as she entered her office, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Celeste had been so entranced by the image on her computer screen that she hadn’t heard her friend come in.

  Keisha frowned. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. Keisha came around to the other side of Celeste’s desk to see what had her so engrossed that she hadn’t heard her approaching. When Keisha saw the picture of Ishmael and Rah-lo she fanned herself with her hand as if she had suddenly encountered a heat wave. “Whew! Girl! Who are they and where do I sign up?”

  Celeste laughed. Pointing at the screen, she explained, “This one is my ex. And this one is his best friend.”

  Keisha’s jaws opened in shock. “Damn!” she said. “They’re both fine as hell!” She peered closer. “But the friend is sexier, in my opinion. Is that the one you told me you were starting to develop feelings for?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Celeste sat back in her chair and gazed at the picture, nodding.

  “Well, I can see why,” Keisha said. “He looks like a cross between LL and Reggie Bush! Damn!”

  Celeste laughed at Keisha’s assessment. “Well, Ishmael somehow found me on MySpace and sent me a message.”

  Keisha pulled up a chair. “What did it say?” she asked, anxious for some juicy details.

  Celeste guided her mouse across the computer to take them back to the previous screen. Ishmael’s message popped up in front of them. Keisha read it out loud and looked at Celeste suggestively. “He still loves you, girl!”

  Celeste waved Keisha off. “What are you talking about? He didn’t say anything like that.”

  Keisha sucked her teeth. “‘I miss you. Shit ain’t the same since you left … .’ Would you read between the lines? The man is crazy about you!”

  Celeste rolled her eyes at Keisha but thought about what she was saying nonetheless.

  “Did you write him back?” Keisha asked.

  Celeste shook her head. “No, not yet. I don’t really know what to say.”

  Keisha had heard enough. She was sick and tired of Celeste being so nonchalant about her love life. Before Celeste could protest, Keisha leaned over her friend and typed a response to Ishmael’s message:

  I miss you, too. Call me. (404) 555-0217.

  Before Celeste could stop her, Keisha clicked “send.”

  “What are you, crazy?” Celeste protested. “I don’t want him to call me!”

  Keisha was unfazed. “Why not? It’s not like you’re with Rah-lo anymore. It can’t hurt. Plus he wants to call you. He went through all that trouble of searching cyberspace to find you … and the man is fine! He don’t have to waste time on shit like that if he don’t want to. I bet women throw themselves at him all the time.”

  “That’s the problem,” Celeste mumbled.

  “So, if you don’t want him, when he calls you can give him my number.”

  Celeste couldn’t help laughing. Keisha was crazy. “I would like to hear from him,” Celeste finally admitted. “Just to find out how everybody’s doing and—”

  “Save that bullshit for someone who don’t know you, girl! You want to find out if he’s single and if he can still lay the pipe good enough to make bitches claw each other’s eyes out!”

  The two women laughed and slapped each other a high five before Celeste logged off and the two of them headed home for the night. In the back of her mind, Celeste knew that Keisha was absolutely right. As Celeste climbed behind the wheel of her Benz, she sighed. She knew exactly what she needed. Seeing pictures of sexy Rah-lo and Ishmael had only reminded her that what she needed more than anything was some good sex. It had been weeks since the last time she’d been with Damon, and she was long overdue for some good loving. Trouble was, there were no viable candidates to replace Damon in her bed. Except, perhaps, for Bryson. She called him and he answered after the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Bryson. It’s Celeste.”

  “Heyyyy,” he crooned. She could hear the smile spread across his face. It made her smile as well.

  “I was just leaving work and I thought I would call you. What are you doing tonight? Feel like having a drink?”

  Bryson took off his watch and set it on the bed, removed his cuff links. “See?” he said. “That’s what I like about New York women. You take the initiative.”

  “I guess that’s a yes?”

  “Definitely. I just got home a little while ago, so why don’t you come by here? I have a full bar.” Bryson had much more than that. His home was simple, understated, and expensive. He owned a home on ten acres of land in Decatur, which had been passed down to him by his grandmother. He gave Celeste his address and brief directions and they hung up.

  On the way to Bryson’s place, Celeste thought about what she wanted from Bryson—from any man, for that matter. She had money of her own. She didn’t need or want a man to take care of her ever again. It gave them too much power. It felt too much like charity. Even if they were kind enough to give you the illusion of control, they always held the reins. She wanted her own shit—her own money, name, success, and power. But she also wanted the security, the comfort, of a man. A man who didn’t come with baggage and issues. She wanted to be held, touched, and talked to—listened to. But tonight she would settle for being fucked.

  She felt like a seductress as she drove over to Bryson’s place. This was how she should be living, she told herself. Foot on the gas, headed up the highway for a cozy night of drinks and intimacy, Celeste felt sexy as hell. She let the spring breeze blow through her open car window as she listened to Jay-Z’s new CD. Ishmael’s face flashed in her mind, then Rah-lo’s. Where the hell had they come from and why now? She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and licked her lips. It didn’t matter. Tonight was all about Bryson.

  She arrived at his house in no time and was impressed by what she saw. His home was a beautiful colonial-style house on such well-manicured grounds. As she stepped out of her car, Bryson came outside to greet her. He wore an unbuttoned dress shirt, a wifebeater, and a pair of tailored slacks. Celeste checked his shoes out and approved. This was gonna be a good night.

  He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you again.”

  She smiled. He smelled good. “I’m glad to see you, too. Your house is gorgeous.”

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her New York accent once again. As he ushered her inside and showed her around, he told her about his family. His grandparents had married young and given birth to two daughters before Bryson’s grandfather was killed in an accident. His grandmother had single-handedly raised her daughters and put them through college. Bryson’s mother, Alice, and his aunt Clara held degrees in education and psychology, respectively. And they had raised their children to achieve greatness. College was not an option, it was a requirement, in his family. The question was not if he would go to college but where he would go. And when his grandmother passed away at the ripe old age of ninety-seven, she left each of her four grandchildren property.

  As they reached the huge master bedroom on Bryson’s guided tour, Celeste gasped. The room was triple the size of her own and
the only things inside were a king-sized bed, sitting atop plush cream-colored carpet, and a huge wooden armoire. One plant stood in the corner, as tall as a ballplayer. This was a lovely place for a single man to live alone. She realized that she was in the big leagues for real now. This was a fine brother with legitimate money, old money. He was as charming as ever as he led her back downstairs and poured her a glass of her favorite drink. He poured himself a shot of Patrón and sat beside her. Kanye’s “Graduation” played at the perfect volume, and Bryson’s cologne caught her attention again.

  “You smell good,” she admitted. “What are you wearing?”

  He smiled. Perfect teeth. “Thank you. Unforgivable.”

  She smiled back. “It’s nice.”

  She thought she caught him blushing. She loved this southern boy’s charm. “You always look this nice when you go to work?” he asked.

  Celeste glanced at her black pencil skirt, Stuart Weitzman heels, and cleavage-baring ruffled blouse and smirked. “If you call this sexy,” she purred.

  Bryson nodded. “That’s definitely what I call sexy. But I thought you were sexy from the minute I saw you at the party.” He sipped his drink.

  Celeste crossed her legs. “Thank you.” She looked around at his home once again. It was sparsely decorated but so lovely regardless. “How long have you lived in this big house all by yourself?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “Since about a year ago. At first my sister lived here with her husband and their kids. But they all moved when her husband got a job in Columbus. I moved into this house about two years ago.”

  “No woman to share it with?” Celeste wasn’t necessarily auditioning for the part. But Bryson seemed almost too good to be true.

  He shrugged. “I thought I had that. But it didn’t work out, you know what I mean?” He sipped his drink again. “Her name was Desiree. She had a daughter named Tiffany. I really thought I was gonna get married and have the whole perfect family.”

  Celeste was intrigued. “And? What happened?”

  He smiled at her impatience. “She cheated on me. Not like one-night-out-on-the-town-with-your-girls kinda cheating, either.”

  Celeste laughed. “Is that what you think girls do when we have our nights out?”

  He chuckled and watched her swallow her Hennessy. “Well, you know what I’m trying to say. It wasn’t just like a onetime thing that maybe I could forgive over time. She was still fuckin’—pardon my language.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Celeste assured him. “Shit!”

  He laughed, and so did she. Bryson continued, “She was still fuckin’ her daughter’s father behind my back. I’m playing daddy to his kid and she’s still letting him hit it. It was crazy.”

  “It sounds crazy.” Celeste wondered why his ex would be so stupid. Here was a man who seemed to have it all. What was he lacking that would cause her to slip back to her deadbeat baby daddy? Celeste sighed, wondering if Bryson had a little dick. That would explain Desiree’s problem.

  “What about you?” Bryson asked, snapping Celeste out of her thoughts. “Where’s your man?”

  She threw her hands up. “I can’t find him!”

  The two of them laughed and Bryson refreshed their drinks. He slid back into position, a little closer to her this time. “He’ll come when you’re not looking.”

  She liked having Bryson this close. “Well, I didn’t see you coming up behind me at the bar when we met. Does that count?”

  He smiled, his lips so close to hers that she breathed his air. “Yup.” He saw a sexy look of passion in her eyes. He liked it. She was in a naughty mood and he could tell. He kissed her.

  Celeste tongued him expertly and he was drawn in. Her aggression was a turn-on! He pulled her closer to him and Celeste took the initiative once again and straddled him. He smiled. She kissed his face, feeling the Hennessy. Bryson was open. He liked Celeste’s whole style.

  She pulled back as if suddenly aware of what was happening. “Damn,” she said, smiling and touching her lips softly as if she could still feel the kiss there.

  Bryson looked into her eyes. “Don’t pull back now. I won’t bite.”

  She wanted him to bite her. She wanted him to fuck her, ravage her, devour her completely. But she knew that she shouldn’t let him. Bryson was a good catch. He had a broken heart and she wanted to play her cards right. “I shouldn’t be this aggressive,” she said coyly. “You’re used to southern belles.”

  He wouldn’t let her climb off of him. Instead, he grabbed her ass and held her there. She liked it; he could tell by the slow smile that crept across her face. “I can get used to this,” he assured her.

  She stopped trying to fight it. She kissed him and he held on to her ass like it was a life raft. She had no idea what she was in for. He was gonna tear her little ass up. Her lips tasted so sweet. Celeste was feeling the effects of the cognac, and she aggressively unfastened Bryson’s belt and unzipped his slacks.

  His lips spread into a sexy grin. “That’s what you want, huh?”

  Celeste simply nodded and unleashed his thick, juicy dick, which was already hard and ready for action. Size couldn’t have been Desiree’s problem, Celeste thought. Stupid bitch! She rubbed it, kissed it, stroked him, until he was panting her name. “Look at you,” he whispered. He was loving it. She stopped and sat back breathlessly, and Bryson unbuttoned the blouse she wore, unleashing her breasts. She kicked off her shoes and he tugged off her skirt. She led him to his own bedroom and he anxiously followed. Celeste climbed into the bed and Bryson climbed on top of her.

  Celeste was in paradise. Bryson buried his face deep inside her pussy and ate her like lunch. She was gone. By the time he came up for air, strapped on a condom, and entered her, she was eager to feel him inside of her. He stroked her like an expert, careful not to hurt her with his ten inches but forceful enough to ensure that she felt him.

  “Ohhhhhhhh … ohhhh … shit!” Celeste moaned with pleasure and he watched her facial expressions vacillate involuntarily. “Yeah!”

  He switched up his rhythm and she followed his lead. Stroke for stroke she matched his intensity, and he was feeling that. She made him want to really fuck her. When Celeste turned over and stuck her ass far in the air as if she needed him to get it, he panted. “Shit! You want to get fucked tonight?”

  “Yes!” Celeste grabbed the sheets as Bryson plunged his dick deep inside of her, stroking her so well that she moaned from deep in the pit of her soul. He was taking her there! Celeste shrieked when he slapped her ass, spanking her as he gutted her. “That feels sooooo good!” She was coming and he felt it. But he wasn’t done. He turned her over onto her back and threw both of her legs over his shoulder and dug her out deep. Celeste could hardly stand it. She hadn’t been fucked this good in years. Bryson squeezed her breasts and pounded her out. When he finally came, she could feel him pulsating inside of her. His orgasm was long and intense and he shuddered as the last of it came forth. Breathlessly he lay beside her.

  Celeste could hardly look at him. He had fucked her so well that she wanted to get away from him, but at the same time she wished she never had to leave. She reached for her clothes and he pulled her back in bed. “Don’t get dressed. Don’t fix your hair or nothing. I’m only gonna fuck it up again.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. For the rest of the night, he sexed her as if she were the last woman alive. She slept like a newborn child that night, with not a care in the world. Bryson lay beside her fast asleep. And in the morning he greeted her with round two.

  Ishmael could tell she was coming. His face was buried in her moistness, and her juices dripped down his chin as he feasted on her expertly. He sucked on her softly and glided his fingers in and out of her wetness. Her knees began to quiver and her voice rose several octaves. He knew he had her now.

  “Oh … my … God!!!!!!!!” Robin screamed as she came in Ishmael’s mouth, her body convulsing involuntarily. She grabbed his head and pulled him deeper into her, and he loved every mome
nt of it. He lapped up her creamy center eagerly. For two nights straight she had been Ishmael’s dessert after she was done with work and he was done with his hustle. Robin’s sister had been kind enough to look after Hezekiah while Robin snuck over to Ishmael’s secret apartment both nights. Her sister had been more than happy to watch her nephew, since she could tell by Robin’s cheery demeanor that she was finally getting some. To her sister, it was about time! Robin needed to start living before life passed her by.

  Right now she had never felt more alive. Ishmael finally came up for air and he kissed her inner thighs, which were still shaking from the explosive orgasm he’d just given her. She breathed heavily as he maneuvered himself sensuously up the length of her body, stopping at her breasts and sucking on them separately. Slowly, he dipped the head of his dick inside her wetness, feeling her legs still trembling.

  “I got you, baby girl,” he whispered, still teasing her with the tip of his manhood. “Let me in.”

  Robin did. Slowly he stroked her, the rhythm making her feel weak with ecstasy. He was hard as a rock and she was loving every second of it. She clung to him, pulling him deeper inside of her, and he smiled.

  “You want all of it?” he asked.

  “Yes!” she answered breathlessly.

  Ishmael slid his hands beneath her, palming her ass with both hands. He plunged deep within her sugar walls and Robin let out a deep moan. Damn, she had some good pussy! She was tight and wet and so warm inside. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  Robin had let go of all of her inhibitions. This man was the king of lovemaking! She wrapped her legs around his waist and ground herself back at him, matching his strokes with equal intensity. Ishmael tried to hold back his ejaculation. He wasn’t ready to come yet. This was getting too good.

  He put both of her legs up on his shoulders and stroked her deeply. “Damn!” she exclaimed, and Ishmael knew just how she felt. He had been with many women in his lifetime but could not ever recall a woman who made him feel like this. Suddenly, she pushed him off of her, catching him completely off guard. Before he could protest, Robin pushed him onto his back and straddled him, plunging his ten inches deep inside her as she rode him. Her hips swiveling like a belly dancer, she worked him into a frenzy until he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed her by her hips to get her to slow her pace before he came too soon. Robin looked into his eyes and smiled.