by Dee Dawning
Heading back to our booth with our drinks, I could hear Scott's first question, “What do you mean you work here? I thought you live in L.A.” Setting our drinks down, I sat beside him. “Well?” Poor Scott. I could read the obvious confusion in his face.
"I do live in L.A. and I do work here, temporarily. I'm filling in for someone until a week from Sunday, eight more days."
"What do you do?"
"Did you notice that grand piano we walked by on the way in?” He looked over. “Yes, what about it?"
"I play it."
Scott's intense, inquisitive eyes softened and I thought I could see curiosity turn into a tiny bit of admiration. “No kidding? You play the piano?” Scott put his arm around me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
"And sing."
"So, you're a musician? I'm impressed."
"I prefer chanteuse, since I mostly work nightclubs."
"That's cool. How come you didn't perform last night?"
"Night off."
"Oh. I can't wait to hear you.” Scott pulled me closer and placed his other hand on my lap. His face within inches, then his lips nibbled at mine and he whispered. “So, what brought you to Pokey's?"
Before I could answer, Scott began kissing my neck, while his clever hand gradually slipped to one of my breasts. Brazenly slipping his hand under my halter, his finger began to circle my distended nipple, squeezing it occasionally with his thumb. Wishing we had gone back to my hotel room, I ran my fingers through his short unruly hair once and placed my hand on his chest, rubbing it up and down. About to suggest that we finish our conversation in my room, at the Hilton, I heard a loud “Ah-hmmm!"
* * * *
Quickly, I removed my lips from Rachel's neck and turned toward the loud voice.
"Excuse me, but I believe that is my niece you are mauling."
It was dark in Pokey's and I had trouble seeing the large dark apparition standing in front of the table who had addressed me. I quickly removed my hand from Rachel's breast and pulled the halter back into place.
Rachel smiled contritely. “We were just kissing, Ced."
She turned to me. “Scott, this is my Uncle Cedric. Don't worry about him. He's just a big pussy cat and he's the reason I'm here."
Big was right. I still could only make out the outline of him. He grinned and his white teeth stood out in the dim light. I'm six-two and his teeth were over the top of where my head would be if I were next to him.
"Humpf. Pussy cat, huh? Just kissing, huh? And I suppose his paws were just kissing your tits?"
Cedric was the largest, black man this side of ‘The Green Mile.’ Remembering what she had said about her football-playing husband and eight kids, I was confused. “You're not married to him?"
"No, silly. He's my uncle ... oh you're thinking of ... he used to be a football player though."
"Forty-niners, offensive guard, eighty-eight through ninety-four, then my knees gave out. Got me a couple of rings though. I guess my niece isn't going to finish introducing us.” He held out his hand. “Cedric Coombs."
When I stood, the top of his head was a good six inches higher mine. “Scott Rader.” I shook his hand and was pleased that he didn't break it. “I remember you. I happen to be a diehard Forty-niner fan—Joe Montana, Jerry Rice and Steve Young."
"Really? Then we have something in common. Other than my niece, that is."
Rachel asked, “How did you know I was here, Ced?"
"Tony told me. Let me get my drink and I'll join you. No hanky panky while I'm gone."
"Looks like he accepts you.” Rachel whispered in my ear.
"Accepts me?"
"You and I being together. He's never seen me with a white man before."
"But you're half white. What difference would it make?"
Nevertheless, I'm his favorite sister's daughter. She's black, he's black and I'm sure they would prefer I date African American men. I think you made points when you told him you were a Forty-niner fan though."
"But it's true."
"All the better. Keep reminding him. On the other hand, my paternal side of the family would prefer I date white men, preferably Irish American men. My Uncle Charley says if the Lord wanted me to end up with an African American man, he would have made me look more African.
"See why I'm all fucked up being pulled in two directions."
Before I could respond, Cedric was back, blocking out any light filtering through the front door. “At my weight, I have to bring my own chair to sit on,” he said as he set it at the end of the circular booth. “What did you guys talk about while I was gone?"
I decided to be honest. “Rachel said you would probably prefer she didn't go out with Caucasian men."
"She said that? Really?” I nodded. A twinkle formed in his eyes and he flashed his pearly whites. “Well, I suppose that's true, but that doesn't make me prejudiced. It's only natural."
Rachel seemed to sense a need to change the subject. “My uncle owns this place. He needed someone to cover for Priscilla Bass, the regular entertainer, while she's indisposed and that's why I'm here."
Uncle Cedric ignored his niece and continued, “However, with her daddy, God rest his soul, having been white, I would never presume to try to influence her. She needs to follow her heart. I'm glad she explained her heritage to you though, unlike her last boyfriend. Did she tell you about that jerk? Or is it presumptuous of me to infer you are her boyfriend?"
"No. I would very much like to be her boyfriend,” I answered.
"Good. In appearance, Rachel takes after her father—"
"Cedric, please!” Rachel put her hand on his beefy arm. “I thought you agreed you wouldn't stick your nose in my business."
"I'm not, honey. It's just that Lester really pissed me off."
"Like I was saying, Scottie, she could pass—Ouch! What'd you do that for?"
I decided Rachel must have kicked him in the shins.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Now that you've opened your big mouth about Lester, let me tell him. Okay?"
"Whatever you say, Sweetie. While you're telling him about your jerky ex-boyfriend, I'm going to refresh my drink."
As Cedric got up as nimbly as a four hundred pounder could and headed for the bar, Rachel turned and kissed me with fervor. “So you'd really like to be my boyfriend huh?"
"Uh huh."
"You mean it?"
"Absolutely."
Rachel's lovely lips formed their widest smile. Putting her arm around me, she said, “Good."
She laid her head in the crook of my neck and whispered, “I would like being your girlfriend. Being with you makes me feel good. You know, I have a feeling that Ced likes you."
"Why do you say that?"
"He called you Scottie. I think that's a sign that he likes you."
Her free hand began rubbing my chest, gradually moving down toward my groin.
I tensed. “What about Lester?"
Rachel lifted her head off my shoulder and flashed a disgusted look, “You sure know how to kill a mood. Lester won't be here until seven."
I was incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean he'll be here? I thought you broke up?"
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
The Dressing Room
"Nudity is a state of dress."
—Rachel Cooke
"Remember the piano?” Rachel asked
"What's that have to do with Lester?"
"Be patient. Did you see the guitar on the stand beside the piano?"
"I didn't, but I see it now. Is it Lester's? Do you perform with him?
"No, Lester doesn't play with us."
"Who plays—"
"Before you ask another question, let me finish. The guitar belongs to my partner, Chloe—Chloe Carney—CC for short. She performs with me. We go by CC ‘n Cooke, kind of a takeoff of the drink, Canadian Club and Coke. We're due to perform in ninety minutes. Lester is our agent."
I could sense a slight vibr
ation on the table and knew Cedric was on his way back. As Rachel's mammoth uncle arrived, she said, “Ah, there you are Cedric. We were about to send the cavalry after you."
"I know. Sorry. A liquor salesman showed up and I have to get back to him. Here are fresh drinks. Scottie, I told Tony your money is no good here. Just don't be a jerk to my little honey, like that dick-face Lester. Gotta go."
"Thanks Cedric. Wish you had time to finish telling me about Lester."
Cedric hesitated. “This won't take long, Sweetie. I just want to tell Scottie this one thing,” speaking to Rachel as she pursed her lips and frowned at her uncle.
"Lester apparently thought Rachel was white—all white. I think he liked that and when he found out I was her uncle, all of a sudden, she wasn't good enough for him. Which is not only an insult to her, but an insult to me."
My confusion was growing. “Lester is white?"
Anger flared in Cedric's eyes. “No, hell no. Lester is a brother. At least he is on the outside. We got along fine until I told him Rachel is my niece. He is what some refer to as an Oreo."
Now, I was flat befuddled. “I don't understand. Why should an African American man care if she is part African American?"
"Indeed. That's my point. I'd like to punch the pompous bastard in the mouth."
Rachel scooted out of the booth and took her uncle's arm. She looked small next to her uncle.
She said, “C'mon, Ced,” as she turned and walked him toward his office, “calm down, remember your blood pressure. Didn't we agreed, it's my life and I would handle it? I need to explain everything to Scott in my own way. Everything will be fine, if he's as understanding, as I think he is. If not, I lose two boyfriends this week."
* * * *
Sitting down after escorting Uncle Ced back to his office, I smiled warily at Scott and took his hand. His face was impassive. If only I could read his mind. After kissing his hand, I asked, “Okay, what do you want to know?"
I drew back as Scott frowned. “Jesus, what don't I want to know? Why did Lester break up with you? Why is your black heritage not good enough for a black man? Did you love him? Am I just a substitute for Lester?"
Scott scooted out of the booth and began pacing. He looked agitated. I went to him and put my arms around him. “Are you angry?"
"This is just so much to absorb, I don't know if I am angry. If I am, it's at your former boyfriend, for dumping you. What an ass.” Scott sighed. “Rachel, be honest with me. Did you find me on the rebound?"
Putting my head against his chest, I could feel his heart beat. “I don't think so. I'm very attracted to you, but how can I say? It's only been a few days and actually, I broke up with him. How about you? Was I your convenient substitute when you thought Carol stood you up?"
Scott frowned and moved his head back as if my question threw him. “Of course, I can't be certain, but when Carol finally called, I was only interested in you. Still am. I just want to know what's going on."
Pleased, I pulled his lips down to mine and we kissed, long and wet, his tongue exploring the inner workings of my mouth."
"I'm getting hungry. Are you getting hungry?"
"In more ways than one,” said Scott slyly.
"We could go in the restaurant and grab something to eat. They have great hamburgers, or if you prefer steaks. It would be Tiny's treat and we could talk there."
"Tiny?"
"Uncle Cedric.” I laughed. “I'm sorry. That's what we call him sometimes. Don't tell him I told you though. If he's okay with you calling him that, he'll let you know. Then afterwards, for dessert, I could show you my dressing room. We would be alone in there."
Scott's mood seemed to pick up as he flashed a broad smile. “Hamburgers sound good. Dessert too,” he said while rubbing my ass.
* * * *
We sat in a booth, next to each other. Rachel ordered a turkey club with fruit and iced tea. Taking her suggestion, I ordered Pokey's Porker, a half-pound burger with cheese, bacon, onion rings, fries and a Coke.
"Okay let's hear this twisted tale. I remember you said you broke up with Lester. Why?"
"This is a little embarrassing.” Blushing, she paused to take a drink of iced tea. “I'm sure you noticed that I have a two bedroom suite. That was compliments of Uncle Ced—one bedroom for CC and one for Lester and me.” She locked eyes with me and held it. “Lester and I had been going together for a while and we were..."
I took her hand to reassure her. “It's all right, go on."
She smiled cautiously. “We'd been performing here about four days and Lester and Tiny were getting along okay. Lester didn't know that Cedric was my uncle and actually, I preferred that he and CC didn't know. I lined up the gig and I didn't want them to think it was nepotism, which it probably was. Tiny was jiving around with Lester, asking if we had any marriage plans. According to my uncle, when he asked if he was going to make an honest woman out of his niece, Lester's jaw hit the floor."
"I still don't understand."
Rachel's eyes teared up. “I don't either. If he were white, like you, it might make sense but he's not. Anyway, Lester's behavior cooled toward Tiny and his attitude toward me was icy. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me he really dug me being white. He claimed I misled him."
"That's shitty."
"Now, do you see why I needed to ask you all those questions?'
I nodded.
Anger flashed in Rachel's eyes. “That night I woke up to an empty bed and found him with Chloe, who is as white as a mime. After I created a scene, they left. Where they are staying, I have no idea."
I tried to show a calm facade but inside I was furious. “What a jerk. Where did you find him?"
"He's my agent. Now it looks like I might not have an agent anymore."
"With an agent like that, who needs enemies? You have no idea what's up with the guy?"
"I haven't really talked to him since that night but CC's my partner and roommate in LA. Things are a little strained but we talk. She suspects Lester wants a white trophy wife to prove how successful he is, thereby gaining acceptance, maybe even admiration, among his peers."
I could feel my jaw clenching. “That's sick. Even though I've never met Lester, already I can't stand him."
She scrunched her nose, as if smelling a bad odor. “It's hard to believe I went with such a shallow person"
"Why did you say Lester is going to be here at seven?"
Rachel's eyes flashed. Was it anger or disappointment? “Because he's done it for the last week since we broke up. He comes here with Chloe and sits at the closest table, ostensibly to watch her, but he mostly stares at me. I hate it."
"There's one more thing I'd like to ask and then I'd like to see your dressing room."
I paused while the waitress filled Rachel's iced tea and set down a fresh Coke for me.
"What prompted you to hit on me last night?"
Rachel, displayed a look of innocent disbelief on her face, but her red skin showed embarrassment. “I didn't hit on you. We were just making conversation."
My eyes went heavenward in disbelief and I laughed. “Rachel you are good. Mind you, I was very receptive to your advances, but I know a come on when I hear one."
Rachel, still in denial, was holding back a smile. “My advances? You are too much! Really, I was only being friendly."
"Okay, you win. Let me rephrase that question. What made you want to be friendly to me last night?"
"Hmm. Obviously, I thought you were attractive, for an older guy."
"Older guy?"
I reached over and started tickling her. Squirming and screaming, she scooted away from me and out of the booth. With Rachel a few yards ahead of me, heading for the entrance, I yelled, “Do we need to do anything with the check?"
Rachel ran back, kissed me and grasped my hand. “Tiny's got it. Let's go see my dressing room."
* * * *
As Scott's strong arms surrounded me, I could feel talented fingers exploring under my t
iny mini-skirt and panties to knead, what he termed, my ‘prime ass.’ With his swollen penis poking my belly, a tingling sensation manifested in my lower regions, slowly expanding and increasing from an ember into a simmering flame of desire. His prick was assaulting me from the front and his hands from the rear. I loved it.
Returning the favor, I pressed my abdomen into his hard-on as he slipped a free hand into my halter. When his naughty fingers began rolling my nipple, electric shocks assailed my sensitive clit. As our dry fucking increased, my pussy was anything but dry.
A shiver passed through me as he whispered, breathing warm air into my ear, “I want you. I want to lose myself in you. I need your warm tender pussy around my hard cock."
"There's no room in here.” I sighed, breathing heavily.
"What about the dressing table?” He insisted, leaving cool dampness behind his kisses to my hot neck and ear.
"Chloe will be here soon.” I countered weakly.
"We've got time. Besides you caught them fucking. Would it matter if she catches us fucking?"
Somehow, that made sense.
He persisted. His tender little kisses to my neck excited me.
What little resolve I had was slowly eroding. My body tensed when a finger entered me and when a second finger joined it in my slick, wet quim, my simmering heat burst into a smoldering blaze.
"God, I want you,” he whispered before tonguing my tit.
"Leave my clothes on.” I stiffened as his thumb found my clit. “Oooh!"
"Can I re-arrange them?” he managed to ask as his tongue circled my swollen nipple.
"Oh, yes! Just don't leave me naked!” I want him. I want it, now!
"Can I take your panties off?” he asked, his hot breath on my aroused nipple.
"Okay! Yes! Yes! Hurry up please! Fuck me! I'm so fucking hot, I could fuck you on stage!"
His tongue probed my mouth aggressively. As our tongues met, shivers raced down my spine. Both of his hands returned to my buttocks squeezing them harshly, while his body pushed me backward. As my thighs came to rest against the dressing table, he cleared it of makeup and perfume bottles with one violent swipe of his arm. Bottles and jars went flying, smashing and clinking loudly against the floor and wall.
