These Are My Confessions

by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome

  “Oh God!” I shrieked. I looked around and saw that my very big bodyguards from the club were headed our way, but before they got a chance to do shit, Spock regulated things. He started doing karate or jujitsu or something like his ass was Jet Li. By the time Security got to us, Cali was lying in a ball on the cement.

  “What the fuck?” I asked Spock.

  “Remember I told you I took tae kwon do growing up? I was a big-time nerd in the hood. I needed something to defend myself,” he said.

  I remember him telling me something of that nature but had written it off as him just trying to impress me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked me.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I told him.

  Leslie came running up to me, hysterical, while my bodyguards grabbed Cali. Then Leslie, Spock, and I went back into the club’s office, where we called the police and waited for them to arrive.

  “Oh my God. This is too crazy!” Leslie said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I feel responsible. I should have had your security go wait with you. I just thought you’d be safe.”

  “I was safe. Spock didn’t let anything happen to me,” I told her. That didn’t seem to matter. She still seemed riddled with guilt. “This isn’t your fault, Leslie. Cali is crazy. That’s obvious. He always has been, but nobody could have predicted this insanity.”

  “I knew you were too big to go without security,” she said. “Not at an event like this. And then…” Leslie said, tears rolling down her face.

  “What?” I asked her gently.

  “There were a few cards that came with the flowers yesterday and today…they must have come from him.”

  “What did they say?”

  “The cards said stuff like, ‘Always watching. Always wanting. Always connected. It’s me or no one.’ It was creepy, but it just seemed like run-of-the-mill overzealous fan stuff. I was going to tell you, just after your big party. I didn’t want you to worry about anything. So I hired the extra security and had them stick with you. I just figured you’d be safe with Spock and needed some privacy. It was a dumb move. What if something would have happened to you because I was slipping? Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Leslie was crying and I could tell she was really shaken up. I felt like I needed to be strong for her.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “You did what I wanted you to do. You wanted to see me happy. It was an honest mistake.” I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her.

  We ran down the whole episode to the police.

  “I think that drugs are an issue,” the officer filling out the report said. “We found a crack pipe and quite a few rocks in his pocket. You press charges, we’ll make sure he does the maximum, and he’ll be out of your hair for a long time.”

  “Oh, I intend to,” I told him. “I’ll take this as far as it needs to go.”

  The officer handed me some paperwork and left.

  “Are you okay, Songbird?” Spock asked me.

  “Hell no,” I told him. “I can’t believe that fool showed up here and tried to…” My voice cracked as I broke down. It all hit me at once. My ex-boyfriend had basically stalked me and had planned on doing who knows what.

  “I am not going back to that hotel,” I announced. “I know I probably have nothing to worry about, but who knows what other sickos are waiting for me. It just feels creepy. I won’t feel better until I talk to the police again.”

  “We’ll check you into another hotel,” Leslie said. “I’ll get right on it.” She pulled out her cell phone, but her hand was shaking so much that it fell to the floor.

  “You can stay with me,” Spock offered. “I have more than enough room.”

  Leslie and I looked at each other.

  “I think that would be a good idea,” she said. “You don’t mind if a bodyguard sits outside the house? You know, to keep an eye on things of course.”

  “He can wait inside. Like I said, I have more than enough room, and a state of the art alarm. He’s more than welcome. In fact, I insist that you come too,” he said to Leslie. “You’re in no condition to be at the hotel alone.”

  “I’ll get room service, pour a good, stiff drink, take a bubble bath and lose myself in my work,” she said, attempting to compose herself. “I’ll be fine. I’ll have a bodyguard come with me.”

  “Are you sure?” Spock asked her.

  “I’m sure. Tell him, kid,” Leslie said.

  “Leslie lives for her work. Keeping her from it for the night would drive her crazier than staying at the hotel. She’s from New York, she’s tough,” I said, trying to lighten things up. It was the truth. Leslie was a professional, the best publicist in the biz. If anyone could handle this kind of drama, it was her.

  “Queensbridge, baby,” she said, smoothing her clothes and wiping her face. “No doubt.”

  “Make sure to let him comfort you,” Leslie whispered in my ear as she gave me a hug and we parted.

  Chorus

  The bodyguard, Spock, and I rode in silence from downtown to Spock’s new house in a recently gentrified neighborhood called Bronzeville on the south side. The area had changed so much from my childhood. Dilapidated buildings were now replaced with condos and renovated brownstones. The asking prices still seemed a little steep, though; an uneasy feeling crept over me as we rolled through the streets. The buildings might have changed, but the unsavory characters still remained. Crackheads lurked with heads down, their eyes frantically scouring the cement for a dropped rock. Transients begged on corners. It reminded me of what had transpired with Cali earlier. I just wanted to get away from it all.

  “Where do you live?” I asked impatiently.

  “Just around the corner, on St. Lawrence,” Spock informed me. “Don’t worry, Songbird, we’re almost there. Besides, no one can hurt you when you’ve got us around looking out for you. Ain’t that right, man?” he asked the bodyguard.

  “No doubt,” he agreed.

  We pulled into Spock’s garage, he deactivated the alarm with a remote, and we entered the house through the back door. It was a breathtaking, tastefully decorated, updated graystone with lots of the original finishes and trim. A woman had to have helped him with it.

  “Look, we may as well get this out of the way,” I blurted. “If you’ve got a girl, you may as well tell me. I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I don’t want any drama.”

  “Lucky, chill. I don’t have a girlfriend. My mother and sister helped me decorate. You remember my sister, the artist, right?”

  “Yeah I remember,” I admitted.

  “That’s the girl who helped me pull this all together. I know that’s what you’re thinking. Calm down, okay. I want you to relax. Let me take care of you.”

  The bodyguard looked at me and then at Spock. I’m sure he felt awkward as hell. Spock let him off the hook. He fixed me a glass of wine, told me to sit on the couch, and gave me the remote control. Then he showed the bodyguard how the alarm worked and set him up in a guest bedroom.

  “Come upstairs Lucky,” Spock told me, and I followed him up a winding staircase. We went into his bedroom, which was dark, but he didn’t turn on the lights.

  “Just relax,” he said, guiding me to the bed. I kicked off my shoes and squinted to make him out. He lit candles placed around the room. I couldn’t help but wonder who else he’d lit those candles for, but shooed the thought from my mind and gulped down my wine.

  Spock went into the bathroom, where I heard him running water in the tub. He came out and told me to get undressed and get in. I hesitated.

  “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased.

  “It isn’t that. It’s just that I’m really questioning my judgment when it comes to men. You see what happened earlier. I seem to be a really bad judge of character. I attract all the wrong men. Why are we here, Spock?” I asked. My mind was spinning from the incident outside the club with Cali. I felt like I couldn’t trust myself when it came to who I loved.

  “I am nothing like that man. Songbird, I still love y
ou. Is that what you need to hear?” he asked. I could tell he was trying not to get frustrated.

  “Only if you mean it,” I admitted.

  “I do. Lucky, this isn’t about you being famous, or me just trying to get some ass or whatever you might be thinking. I love you, and everything was fine before the night went wrong, but I’m trying to change it. Will you let me do that?” he asked. I sighed and took off my clothes.

  “I’ll will,” I said. I stepped into the warm, sudsy water, and Spock activated the jets that sent powerful and relaxing bursts of water onto my weary body.

  “Want some music?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I told him.

  “What do you want to hear?” he asked.

  “You’re so good at telling me what I want to hear. Why don’t you choose?” I snapped. I couldn’t help it. I knew I’d been though a lot, but a part of me couldn’t trust why he was being so nice to me and was so frustrated that I lashed out on the person closest to me.

  “I’m going to ignore that comment,” he said. “I’ll play you some of my stuff. But don’t worry; I’m not trying to work you over to help me get a deal. And if you hate it, you can feel free to tell me. But I don’t think you will.” I did believe that he just wanted to share his music with me, no strings attached. That was one of the things that made our relationship in the past so special. We collaborated on lots of songs, just fooling around in his home studio, and it always seemed to just fit. To borrow a corporate term, there was a synergy between us.

  He cued up a couple of tracks he’d been working on, and I hummed quietly along, freestyling and improvising lyrics here and there. My tension dissolved into the water, and soon I was totally at ease, singing softly while I lounged in the luxurious bath.

  “I want to hear you better,” he said. He knelt beside the tub and turned the water jets off. I smiled and sang a little louder.

  “We sound good together,” he commented.

  “We always did,” I replied.

  “How’s the water?” he asked. I gazed up at him, thinking about what we had done earlier, and what we were on our way to do before we were interrupted by Cali’s foolishness.

  “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I asked him. Spock was disrobed and in the tub with me in less than sixty seconds. We were like two little kids in the soapy water, splashing each other and putting bubble beards and hats on each other. You know I had to be feeling good to let him mess up my hair and makeup. The glam squad would be thoroughly pissed when they saw what I’d done with all their hard work.

  “Come here,” he said. Luckily, the tub was large enough for me to move around easily. He opened his arms and I slid in between them. We sat there, soaking, and every now and then he’d caress my body or kiss me on the cheek or neck.

  “You’re going to turn into a raisin,” he teased me, lifting my hand and inspecting my wrinkled fingertips. “Let’s get out.”

  I pouted, splashing my hands on the water’s surface and poking out my bottom lip like an impudent toddler.

  “Come on, you big baby,” he said. “Lay down on the bed.”

  I got out of the water quickly and cocked my eyebrow at him suggestively.

  “I’m going to give you a massage,” he said. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “I like my mind in the gutter, and you like it too!”

  “We’re getting to that,” he said. “You’re always in such a rush. You always try to make things happen. Calm down. Enjoy the journey,” he said.

  He spread a bath towel on his king-sized bed and I laid down on it. I buried my face into his down comforter, not caring if I smeared what remained of my makeup on it. Hell, I wanted to leave a reminder of myself behind in case any chicks came over. Besides, if he didn’t like it, he had a good job—he could pay to get it cleaned or buy another one. I could smell a stick of incense burning as Spock squeezed some oil between his palms and rubbed them together. They were warm when he placed them on my body and began to rub and knead my shoulders.

  “You have such a beautiful body,” he told me as he caressed my skin with what smelled like almond oil. He took his time while working on my lower back, hips, ass, and thighs. I was weak beneath his touch, and I knew that my inner thighs were going to be particularly slippery, and not from the oil. He made his way slowly down my calves and finally to my feet, working on my strained insteps, massaging the damage from the stilettos I adore. I moaned and sighed as he worked out every bit of stress I had, and I was ready to take the rubdown to the next level. I think he was too, because he stopped rubbing my backside, flipped me over and made that face men make when what they see what looks real good to them.

  But he didn’t jump my bones. He poured oil directly on my breasts and looked into my eyes as he began to rub it in, his hands gliding and sliding over my nipples. I returned his stare, biting my lip and thrusting my chest upward. I know he liked to drag things out and savor every moment, and I loved that about him, but I could rarely wait when I was near him.

  “Kiss me,” I whispered. He leaned down and kissed me, and I could feel the hairs on his chest sliding over my breasts. I wrapped my legs around his and kissed him deeply, hungrily sucking his tongue into my mouth as we squished and slid against each other.

  He pulled away. “Not yet,” he said.

  “Come on, baby. Why do you torture me like this?” I asked.

  “I told you, you need to appreciate the journey. You know you’re going to get there…a bunch of times,” he said, and chuckled softly. He continued his rubdown, making me squirm beneath his fingertips.

  “I want to feel your cock inside of me right now,” I said forcefully. I needed him to take me to the place that only he knew, and I needed it right then. He stopped touching me and just looked at me. He looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. I couldn’t wait anymore. “Please, please, I need you now,” I whimpered.

  “Shh,” he said, putting his finger to my lips. I stuck my tongue out and licked it before quickly drawing it into my mouth and sucking. He pulled it out and I nipped it gently with my teeth. His hand drifted between my legs, and I eagerly spread them, giving him full access. His nimble fingers rubbed my clit until I was at a fever pitch.

  “You’re such a freak,” he told me.

  “Yeah,” I panted. “And you love it.”

  “I do,” he replied.

  “Stop all that talking and put your mouth to work,” I said. Our relationship and our lovemaking were like tug of war, a constant battle of will and strength. I always lost, but I put up a good fight.

  “You always tell me that,” he said.

  I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down to my crotch, but instead of him diving in the way I wanted, he rained soft kisses across my mound. He gently opened me up with his thumbs and forefingers and licked slowly, teasingly, around my pearl. He brought me to three orgasms, kissing me and stroking my face, giving me a few minutes to rest after each one before beginning again.

  At last he reached into the nightstand and got a condom; he put it on quickly and pulled my body to meet his. He entered me forcefully, and I could feel him grow even harder as I engulfed him in my wet sweetness. He pumped powerfully on top of me for what felt like an hour until he could barely move and we switched positions.

  He lay down on the bed and I sat on top of him again and rode him, this time turning my back to him and facing the mirror that sat perched atop his dresser. We both watched our reflections illuminated by the flickering candlelight as I reached down and gently played with his scrotum, bouncing up and down his pole, my breasts bouncing up and down with me.

  Spock spread my ass cheeks apart and gently wiggled a finger inside. I gasped, tensed, and then relaxed as he reached around with his other hand and massaged my clitoris. Before long he had three fingers inserted in my ass, and the sensation of the three different kinds of stimulation sent me soaring. I screamed his name over and over, not caring if I woke the whole damn nei
ghborhood.

  Soon he exploded as well, and I watched the expression on his face in the mirror with sensual satisfaction. We curled up in each other’s arms and held each other tight. We didn’t speak. We didn’t dare break the perfect silence between us, and soon drifted off to sleep.

  Bridge

  The next morning, Spock treated me to breakfast in bed. He slipped pieces of fresh tropical fruit between my lips, kissing me after each bite and savoring the sweet taste of nectar on my lips.

  “How do you feel?” he asked me, nibbling on my neck.

  “Much better,” I told him.

  “Well I’m about to make you feel even better.”

  Spock slid beneath the sheets and began to lick and suck at my nipples, gently biting each one before going lower and lower until he was nestled between my legs. He parted his lips and sucked my clit between them before plunging his tongue in and out. I was shivering, bucking my hips upward, straining to meet his tongue.

  “You taste like fruit,” he said, before throwing my legs back over my shoulders and fucking my moist slit with his tongue. He gazed into my eyes with a look of pure mischief, before grinning, and then he licked the puckered opening of my anus.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped.

  “You know what I’m doing,” he said, grinning, and continued to lick the crack of my ass, teasing me before inserting his tongue inside the tight crevice. I let out a small yelp and squirmed to change position.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’m going to lick it, get it nice and wet, and then I’m going to stick my cock inside of you.”

  My eyes widened in fear.

  “I won’t hurt you, baby,” he promised. “I’m going to go nice and slow. And you’re going to love it.”

  I held my breath and my body tensed, but soon I was relaxed and gave in to the sensation of him giving slow, seductive licks to my backside. Spock stopped, put on a condom, and lifted me up, flipping me on all fours. He held onto my shoulder firmly.