Naughty Gras: Tales of Fat Tuesday

by Sable Jordan, Jessa Callaver, Perri Forrest, The KWEEN

  He interrupts, “Please, Valentina. I’m crashing your party…Ken is fine. Besides, I think you know enough about my life, my business, to earn an honorary pass to first name basis.”

  We can’t help laughing. It’s a fact. She digs deep into their lives.

  “You have a point, Ken. It’s so nice to meet you in person. Thank you for joining us this year. So glad you came.” She gives me a look that lets me know she’s aware something is pending. “You two look stunning together, looks like a good match of beauty here, that’s for sure.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, Valentina,” he replies. “You said you’d make a choice I would be sure to love, and I must say, you were absolutely right.” He turns to me, and with emphasis, he repeats, “absolutely right.”

  Valentina smiled, and extended well wishes for the evening, blew me an air kiss, and quickly departed.

  VIII

  After taking a sip of my appletini, I ask, “So, Ken…why didn’t you mention to Valentina that we know each other?” I’m asking that under the assumption, and with much hope, that she doesn’t already know. That’s not something she would deliberately partake in, and keep it from me. That much I know for certain.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, with a slight chuckle. “But I won’t. It’s probably best that we make this moment, its own. Agreed?”

  “You’re right,” I agree.

  “Can I just say that you are breathtaking?”

  “Wow. Thank you. You’re something like breathtaking yourself.”

  When we were a couple and people saw us out, it wasn’t uncommon for us to get the attention of onlookers with compliments of how good we looked together.

  “I love the cut,” he continues. “When did you start wearing your hair short? Got the whole Halle Berry thing going on. It’s sexy. It fits. Puts a lot of emphasis on your high cheekbones.”

  Even though the conversation is going well, and we both agreed to let this moment be its own, I can’t help wondering why he hasn’t made a single reference to our past together. The fact that he hasn’t inquired as to what I’m doing here…in a place like this, has me wondering if he’s already passed judgment. I’m in my own head right now. Trying hard to shake it but unable to do so. Partnering with him may not be such a good idea. Too much history. I wonder if he thinks of me as a whore. Even though he had to pay a very pretty penny to be here, so clearly not a cheap one if indeed I am.

  Damn. Something has to give because for two weeks, I have this man in my space.

  “Thank you,” I tell him as I playfully turn my head side to side for a full view. “I’ve been wearing my hair short for about two years now. It’s easy-breezy, just the way I need it to be. On the go too much to have to deal with the task that long hair brings. I can run my fingers through it and be on my way.” He smiles.

  He gets quiet briefly, circling the brim of his Caipirinha-filled glass.

  “Is this at all awkward for you?” he asks.

  Wow! Finally, an acknowledgement!

  “Not at all,” I lie. “Is it for you?”

  “No. I’m too busy being pleasantly surprised,” he offers with a smile. “Forgive me, I had to ask.”

  “No worries, Ken…at all.”

  With my drinks finally taking effect, I begin to relax. Getting past this initial phase is all I’m striving for. I can do the rest – at least I would like to think so. Time will tell. Looking over at him, I’m reminded of how proud I used to be as his plus one. He’s got something “Taylor Kinney” about him that makes him undeniably…irresistible.

  I’m feeling some kind of way about having his honey comb in my golden hideout. I want to show him how much I’ve matured from the 16-year-old girl he used to dick down in the afternoons while our parents were at work…while we were supposed to be at school. My Delilah, to his Vanilla Cucumber…or “Q”, as I used to call it.

  The shy walls are coming down.

  “Did you get all settled into your suite already?” Now, my finger is circling the top of his hand. Flirting. Nerves dissipated. “I’m asking because I wanted to know if you’d like to show me around. Or, I could show you around my dwellings. We are right next to each other, you know? For ease of access.”

  “Ease of access, huh?” he says, grinning. “Is that literally or figuratively?” he playfully asks.

  IX

  Back at his suite, yet not quite through the door, we are at each other hungrily, tongues intertwined, taking each other in. I can taste the lime on his breath – bitter, yet sweet. Clothes are peeling off around us. There are four forces at work here in this room…him, me, and both our bodies screaming to become one.

  Against the now closed door, I can feel his manhood nestled against my newly-waxed mound. Juices summoned, and beginning a slow escape down my inner thigh. Breathing is heavy…anxious. He takes an available finger and enters my wetness stroking back and forth caressing my throbbing lips. Soon after, with my legs wrapped around his waist, he carries me to the bed. No sooner than he lays me down, legs still in position, his eager cock enters the territory it once called home. That first penetration. Yes! It is as though he never left. With every stroke, the memories come flooding back.

  His hands touch my body with experienced navigation. Our bodies moving in sync, to the same rhythm. My eyes are closed as to experience the ecstasy in its entirety. From my head to my fingertips, to the heels of my feet, I can feel this man.

  Prolonging the inevitable is an impossibility. My body wants to surrender. It’s me, the individual, trying to prolong, but with the tingling sensation and my walls contracting around his cock, I know the time is near. Pulling my knees closer, reaching around to grab his ass, I pull him deeper inside. Our symphony of moans, I’m sure, can be heard throughout the halls and beyond. His jerking form alerts me of the impending explosion, and as it arrived, so did I. Sensational is the best way to describe it.

  He rolls over alongside me, and stares upward. His manhood is glistening, freshly creamed, against the moonlight now peeking through the balcony. The room is eerily silent. You would never know that just minutes before we were grinding like our lives depended on it, and howling like wolves in the wild. It’s as though he’s having a telepathic conversation with the ceiling. I don’t get it. How do you go from hot, passionate, sex…to deep thought?

  Turning to face him, I ask, “Ken, Is everything okay?”

  No answer.

  Taking that as my “exit stage left,” I lift up and, placing my legs over the side of the bed, begin scanning the room for my clothing. Suddenly, I feel his hand on my side. He moves his finger up and down my back.

  “You leaving, Gabriella?”

  Is he serious right now?

  “I hope not because I was hoping you’d spend the night with me.”

  “Huh? You went missing. I took that as you being…uh…for lack of a better word, done with me for the night.”

  “Yeah, right! That is far from the case. Sorry for drifting off, was having a moment.”

  Having a moment…I wonder what that’s about. Insulting would be if he’s detaching due to thoughts he’s having of another. That wouldn’t sit well with me at all. I don’t even want to care, but let’s face it, what girl isn’t going to be a taken aback if a man makes love to her and drifts off shortly thereafter? Shit, he just got grade A pussy and he is “having a moment?” Please!

  “Nothing to worry about,” he offers. “I’m good. I would be better if you’d lay back down with me. Come back to bed, please.”

  Shifting gears, I ask, “So, you’re not done with me, Sir?”

  Exposing those trademark dimples, “Uh uh. Just trying to catch my breath, that’s all. “Need to get a second wind to handle you, young lady.”

  “Glad to hear it. You had me worried for a bit there. Was thinking I had to approach Valentina about switching a couple of ‘dates.’ You know though,” I say to him, “I do have to, at some point, grab some overnight stuff from
my suite.”

  To that, he responds, “First of all, there will be no switching of dates. We got us a contract,” he says jokingly. “Second of all, what stuff? All the stuff you need is right here in this bed with me.”

  Looking down at his package, in agreement, “You’re right…that IS all I need. Oh yeah, but there is also that thing called eating that we need to do in the very near future. I’ve managed to work up an appetite.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” he says slyly, “eating is a must…”

  A short time later, and with my clitoris securely nestled between his lips, being licked and suckled like the last skittle in the candy jar, I’m gifted with yet another supergasm. Amazing.

  Ohhh…the memories. Sexcapades. Me and him and them. There were many days we skipped classes to sex into the afternoon hours. Two hyper-sexual youngsters exploring love and lust.

  When I returned from Brazil that spring, de-virginized, I wanted to conquer the world. A world that included more lessons in the language of penis. Along came Ken invoking feelings I had never experienced before. It was whirlwind, young love. You never saw one without the other.

  My parents didn’t like the idea. Thought we were too young. His parents shared that sentiment. The difference was my parents saw that I not only cared for him, but that I still managed to maintain high grades, so they loosened up. His parents on the other hand, regarded me as an interference in any successful future he might have. They had their own plans for him. Plans that didn’t include me. In fact if his mother could see him now, here in bed with me, she would whip her broom out, and be here in nanoseconds. Witch!

  When Ken broke the news to me that he was leaving on a football scholarship to Arizona State, it was just after we’d made love, and without remorse. I suspected that he’d grown tired of what we shared. Perhaps it was too intense for 19-year-olds who had been in a committed relationship for three years. However, there was no, “I want you to come with me”, or, “I’ll miss you…we can make this work.” I was devastated.

  Reluctantly, I followed his progress for a few years. He’d gone on to play pro for a bit, had more than a few women, and finally a sidelining injury that propelled him in the direction of his own sports management firm. By all accounts, he’s very accomplished, so I guess they did right by him. Maybe he was better off.

  Oh well.

  We showered, dressed, and headed down to the lounge for Feijoada, fruit salad, Guarana, flirting, and loads of conversation. There was much more to discuss now.

  One week later

  During a break at samba class, Natalia and I finally had a chance to catch up. She told me about her Texas millionaire and how she was falling for him. She is torn between surrendering to it, or accepting it for what it is – a very expensive encounter. It happens in this business. Spending volumes of time with wealthy, attractive men in romantic settings, getting to know them in intimate ways, makes it as natural as breathing, to catch a feeling for them.

  My advice to her was to try removing the emotional attachment from all interactions and focus on the sex. Of course I knew when I said it that it is easier said than done.

  When not sitting on Valentina’s side of the paperwork, we have no way of knowing who these men are…married, single, or it’s complicated. We are not supposed to ask. It’s part of the deal. Valentina is the only person privy to their information because she is closely tied to their referrals, and ultimately, to them as well.

  I don’t want Natalia getting hurt. She might think this is the Americano she has wanted for so long, so she’s getting caught up in the idea of what could be. This man is like all the others that come here to partake in the unsupervised playground, all set to return to wifey and babies after six-figure sex.

  “É tudo negócio,” I’d said to her. “Treat it as such, irmã.”

  X

  Back at the resort that evening, some of the other couples are enjoying themselves near the pool. Music can be heard throughout and the whole ambiance reminds me of being a kid here in Rio and being mesmerized seeing the city that never goes to sleep. It’s so alive here at Valentina’s…like a Little Rio.

  I spot Valentina in the restaurant area having dinner with Alexio, the two of them looking extremely cozy and comfortable with one another. I hope it’s headed somewhere because I think he would be good for her. The scene brings a smile across my lips. She waves to acknowledge my presence as I head to my suite for a nice hot shower.

  An hour later

  I spot Ken in the bar area joking with Natalia and her guy. I come up behind Ken and plant a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

  “Hey, y’all!”

  I go over to kiss Natalia on both cheeks, and she introduces me to her guy, August. I take my place next to Ken, this time kissing him on his lips. He smiles.

  “Hey, you,” he says. “You’ve been MIA today. Looking good in that dress!” He leans in, “Already trying to figure out how I’m gonna get it off around all that perfect peach…looks like Samba does a body good.”

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling, “can’t really complain. I do approve what I see in the mirror” sounding full of myself in the moment.”

  “Got me a curvalicious beauty with the nice big ol’ booty! Not that it wasn’t always nice,” he says with a grin.

  We all start cracking up. He’s always been somewhat of a comedian, so this is just him re-entering that space among strangers. He’s been pretty toned down, but he’s starting to loosen up a bit. He wears it well.

  Something registers with Natalia. “Hold on”, she interrupts, “you two know each other?”

  He and I exchange quick glances.

  I wanted to tell her earlier, but didn’t because she was enjoying the discussion about her guy and I didn’t want to interrupt. I also left it out the conversation because I didn’t want to dredge up the past and telling the story is exactly what it would do with much guilt. I played it down a bit. Later when I tell her, she will remember hearing of him in letters I used to write to her. For now though, I want to leave it alone.

  “We do know each other. Long ago in a far away place, we crossed paths, had some mutual friends. Haven’t seen him in years, and of all places, he pops up here. Go figure.”

  “Oh! So nothing serious, then?” she inquires.

  “No, Natalia…nothing serious.”

  The reveal doesn’t stop her from being excited. “How sweet is this! You know this could be fate stepping in, right?”

  The hopeless romantic that she is, now has her on a roll, and I need her to stop already. Before she can continue this rant of hers, August suggests that they take a dip in the sauna. Great! Soon she and Mr. Texas depart for some alone time, allowing Ken and I to breathe.

  Over the past week, we have connected. Not in an emotional way, but in a way that the comfort level has settled on an even plane – in my opinion, at least.

  With my arm rested around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his hair, I ask, “Did you and Q miss me today, Papa?”

  He breaks into laughter.

  “You took it way back with that one!” he says excitedly. “We did, and right now, I’m seriously thinking of a way to seduce my way between your thighs.”

  “Wow, Ken. That’s pretty damn sexy talk.”

  “You think?”

  “I do…and I like. All you really have to do is say the word. You paid a pretty ass penny to have all the soft and wet you can handle, at your disposal.”

  His facial expression goes blank as he leans back in his chair.

  “Damn. Is that all this is to you, Gabrielle?”

  “I’m sorry. Is it supposed to be something more? I’m sure you didn’t come here to become emotionally attached, right?”

  I hadn’t expected this tone shift. I even caught myself by surprise. I mean what does he want from me? He was present not so long ago when we talked the lie aloud to Natalia! He sat without so much as a single remark. I thought that was how he wanted to play it. />
  Major confused right now.

  Whatever the situation is, I hope I haven’t just ruined things by trying so hard to be unaffected. Not once has he brought up our past. It’s been a hard pill to swallow, but I went with the flow, following his lead. My strategy, my coping mechanism, was simply to maintain an, ‘it’s all business, and nothing more,’ stance to shield the hurt, but this is just wrong and I don’t know how to go back and fix it now.

  I dig deeper. It’s like I can’t stop now. Emotions have taken over.

  “You’re confusing me right now, Ken. What are we really talking about? You said you were trying to figure out how to seduce your way between my legs and I said – “

  “I know what you said, Gabriella,” he interrupted. “No recap needed.”

  “Okay. But did I say something wrong?”

  His facial expression is foreign to me. He’s quiet. After a few seconds he says, “Absolutely not. You said nothing wrong. You did, however, kill the mood.”

  Déjà Vu.

  He gets up from our table and heads to the bar where some of the other guests are gathered. He never turns around to look at me, so after a few sips of my Leite de Onça, I take off to my suite. A full day of samba has me on the exhausted side, and tomorrow’s our Carnival performance so a restful night is definitely in order.

  The next evening

  When we dance by the crowd, there’s cameras flashing, cheering, happiness, and genuine love for the show that we deliver. Awesome is hearing our names being called out at different times, from kids, and adults alike, as we move through the streets. They know us! This is all so euphoric, and the perfect place for the exhibitionist in me.

  All the beautiful people. This is what living is. Everyone is so alive and carefree, hips moving, drums beating, singing and love everywhere! Nothing compares to the rush I get from dancing in Carnival. I’m especially proud because I am left to practice my dance routine alone in the states with recorded video that the sisters upload for me, but no one would be any wiser watching us in perfect unison.