Lost Daughters

by Mary Monroe

  “Well . . . ,” he began, scratching the side of his face, hoping she wouldn’t stay long so he could go stretch out on his bed and masturbate. He shrugged and closed the door. Then he folded his arms and cleared his throat a couple of times. Loretta assumed he was doing all of that because he was nervous. The truth was, he was so aroused that if this juicy young thing didn’t leave in time, he was not going to be responsible for his actions.

  “Why, look at you! You are hella nervous! Now I know a big strappin’ grown man like you ain’t scared of a dainty little girl like me,” Loretta said with her head tilted to the side.

  “I didn’t expect you, that’s all.” Mel had met some bold young things before, but Loretta took the cake. “You didn’t make an appointment with me.”

  “Do you want me to leave and come back when I have an appointment?” she teased.

  “No, you don’t have to leave,” he managed. He put his hands in his pockets.

  Loretta glanced with disgust at some of the pictures of the other models on his walls. Then she looked at Mel with contempt and shook her head. “I think it’s time for you to have a model who looks like me. One with some color,” she sneered, almost spitting out the last word.

  “I . . . I told you I’d think about working with you,” Mel stammered, his hands up in the air. Despite Loretta’s bold proposition, Mel knew that he couldn’t commit to anything without Maureen’s knowledge and approval.

  “What do you need to think about? I know you want me. That’s cool because I want you too. You wanted me the minute I walked up in here the other day. I could see that even with my eyes closed.”

  “Are we on the same page? Are we talking about a working relationship, or do you have something else in mind?”

  Loretta was glad she had on one of her sexiest ensembles—a pair of her tightest and shortest white shorts and a white V-neck T-shirt. She didn’t need a bra. Her breasts were so firm and high she would be a damn fool not to show them off. Mel gulped when he noticed how erect her nipples were. She saw him but pretended not to.

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” Loretta chortled. “You know damn well why I came back here.” She opened her mouth and rapidly stuck her tongue in and out several times, and then she slid it across her bottom lip. She smacked her lips so loudly it sounded like she had snapped her fingers. “Any more questions?” she asked with a straight face.

  Mel laughed and clapped his hands. “You seem like a real smart little girl, sweetheart, but that’s just it. You are just a little girl.” He was doing all he could to “discourage” Loretta, but that was part of his scheme. He wanted her to think that she was the aggressor. That meant less work for him. That maneuver had worked with a lot of other young girls over the years, but the bottom line was, he wanted this one as much as she wanted him, maybe even more. Her mother seemed reasonably naïve, so he could work around her. He had had enough experience, so he knew that if he played his cards right, he would never have to worry about Maureen causing trouble if he fucked her daughter. He would be taking a risk, but it was a risk that he could not resist. He was a dog and he knew it. What else could he do? Especially when girls as luscious as Loretta threw themselves at him like they were dog meat. “I am flattered—What are you doing?” he hollered.

  “I want to see if you still think I’m just a little girl after I finish nibbling on your third leg, the one in the middle of your thighs,” Loretta purred as she slid the zipper down on her shorts and began to wiggle out of them. Mel was not surprised to see that she didn’t have on any panties. However, he was surprised to see that she had shaved her crotch.

  Before Mel could stop Loretta, she stepped out of her shorts and kicked them all the way across the room. They landed on a goosenecked lamp on a table where he had been looking over some prints when she knocked. He stood stock-still as he watched her pull her T-shirt over her head and drop it to the floor.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Loretta asked, flexing her well-defined shoulders.

  “No, you can stay. Uh, would you like a bottle of soda pop?” Mel asked, moving toward the kitchen area in his small apartment. “I have orange juice too.”

  “Fuck a bottle of soda pop,” Loretta snickered. “The only juice you need to be thinkin’ about right now is this juice between my legs. Any more questions?”

  Mel’s eyes got as wide as saucers, but he managed to remain somewhat calm. “I can’t think of any more right now,” he admitted, his eyes watering with lust. He looked Loretta over some more. Under the circumstances, there was only one thing to do. He took a deep breath and then he locked his door. He smiled at Loretta as he placed the CLOSED sign in his front window.

  “That’s more like it. I know you ain’t stupid enough to turn this down,” Loretta insisted, speaking in the most mature and throaty-sounding voice she could manage. Mel’s mouth dropped open, and he began to salivate as he watched her gently pat her crotch. Loretta thought of herself as a real woman now, and it was time for her to start acting like one. The only way for her to do that was to be with a real man.

  Mel was no match for this vixen, and that was exactly what she was. He realized that in spite of how she looked and behaved, she was technically, and according to the law, still a young girl. He could go to jail because of her! He reminded himself that the possibility of going to jail had never stopped a man from doing what the average man would probably do even in the eye of a hurricane.

  At least he wasn’t “raping” Loretta like some men probably would have done by now. If anybody was about to get raped, it was him, and when it happened, he enjoyed every minute of it. When he realized it was her first time, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He had not been with a teenage virgin since he was a teenage virgin, more than twenty-five years ago!

  Afterward, he held her trembling hand as he wiped her blood from her thighs and his sheet. She looked away when he pulled the bloody condom off his penis and tossed it into the trashcan next to his bed.

  “It won’t be as painful the next time,” Mel told Loretta, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

  “It was worth it,” she whispered in his ear.

  Loretta was the youngest female Mel had ever been with. She was also the best. She was so young, firm, and eager to please him that after just one session in bed with her, she had him feeling like a teenager.

  She was like a drug, and he had become addicted to her already.

  CHAPTER 8

  MAUREEN WAS PUZZLED AS TO WHY LORETTA DIDN’T BADGER HER TO call Mel. Not one single time. “Do you still want to look for a photographer?” she asked her during dinner, a week after their initial visit to his studio.

  “Uh-huh,” Loretta mumbled. She didn’t know what she would do if Maureen found out what she’d been up to with Mel. She was afraid to even let her mother look at her face for too long because she didn’t want her to notice that there was something different about her. Love made her feel like a different person. Her mind wandered and she got goose bumps just thinking about Mel and that third leg in the middle of his thighs.... She couldn’t even sit in the same spot for too long. He had used a lubricant, and he’d been gentle the first time, because it had been her first time. During their last rendezvous two days ago, though, he had been so rough it felt like he was still inside her body!

  “I will—Sugar, why can’t you sit still?” Maureen asked, alarmed. “You wigglin’ around in that chair like you sittin’ on a tack. You got your period?”

  “Yep, that’s it. I must have put my tampon in too deep,” Loretta lied.

  “Well, since you insist on wearin’ tampons instead of pads like I do, you need to learn how to use them right so you won’t be so uncomfortable,” Maureen said as she passed the black-eyed peas to Loretta.

  “I will, Mama.”

  “Now like I was sayin’—do you still want to look for a photographer? Or do you want me to call up that Mel person?” Maureen said with a snort.

  “Uh, yeah. He seemed like a nice man.
”

  “Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Now, unless you want to be modelin’ full-figured outfits, you need to ease up on that buttered corn bread. I’ll give Mr. Mel a call.”

  Since Maureen had tossed Mel’s business card into the trash, she had to look up his telephone number again in the phone book. All kinds of thoughts danced around in her head as she waited for him to answer his telephone. Like, what kind of photographer would not want to work with a girl as beautiful as Loretta? Maybe she was too beautiful and he was afraid that he would not live up to her expectations. Or maybe he only wanted to work with white girls. That was probably what it really was. Maureen had not seen a single photograph of a black model displayed on his wall. He didn’t want to deal with his own kind, and poor Loretta had been anxious to work with him because he was black.

  The only reason Maureen was calling Mel now was because Loretta was still interested in working with him. Maureen prayed that she could make a deal with him somehow. She had no idea that Loretta had already made a deal.

  When Mel answered his telephone on the fourth ring, he couldn’t tell Maureen quick enough to bring Loretta to his studio the following Saturday around noon, with her face fully made up and with several different outfits, at least two swimsuits, and a cocktail dress.

  “Hmm. I’ll have to buy her a cocktail dress,” Maureen mumbled, wondering how much a brand-new cocktail dress was going to set her back. She was already going to be in the hole after she paid for Mel to do the portfolio. “Do we really need a cocktail dress? My daughter is very high maintenance, so she will only settle for somethin’ real expensive.”

  Mel laughed. “That’s not a problem. I think I can handle that.”

  “Oh no! I can’t let you get a cocktail dress for my daughter!” Maureen protested.

  “Let me explain. I have a lot of prop clothing here that some of my former models left behind and never retrieved. I can let Loretta borrow anything she likes.”

  “Oh.” For some strange reason, Maureen suddenly wondered if Mel had a woman. If he did, that woman was very lucky. Not only was he good-looking, but he was also generous. “I don’t want to put you through a lot of extra work on our account. I can borrow the money to get my daughter everything you think she needs for her pictures.”

  “No problem! No problem at all,” Mel sang. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about your daughter a lot since you brought her to my studio. I’d be happy to do her portfolio and provide my management services as well. I’ve helped a lot of beginners jump-start their careers. Quite frankly, your daughter’s got a lot more potential than most of the girls I’ve worked with lately. I know I can get her a lot of work.”

  “I’m glad you think that. Because that’s the same thing two of those other photographers said. But it sounds better comin’ from a brother like you,” Maureen volunteered, hoping that her last sentence stroked Mel’s ego. She was pleased that he had come to his senses in time. She had thought that she was going to have to write him off. “We’ll see you on Saturday at noon. How long will the session take? I’m meetin’ some friends for dinner Saturday evenin’.”

  “Oh! Well, a good session could go on for hours. I’ve done some that stretched over a period of several days,” Mel told Maureen.

  “Several days? Can’t you snap all the pictures on the same day? We might go to church on Sunday, and come Monday, I have to go back to work and Lo’retta has school.”

  “Not a problem. We could probably wrap things up within five or six hours. If that doesn’t happen, we could finish up on the following Saturday.”

  “Well, do I need to be there all that time? I could drop Lo’retta off and pick her up later. If you finish up before it gets real late, she can take the bus home. I’ll make sure she brings her bus pass with her.”

  “I wouldn’t hear of her taking a bus home!” Mel exclaimed. “I’d be more than happy to drive her home after the session.”

  Maureen’s silence made Mel nervous.

  “Of course, I can understand if you don’t feel comfortable with your daughter being alone with a man she just met. I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I work with a lot of young girls, and I haven’t bitten one yet,” Mel jabbered, with his fingers crossed.

  “Well, you don’t look like the type to bite. I would feel more comfortable with her comin’ home in a cab, or on the bus if it came to that, but I think I should be there for the whole session. Lo’retta can be shy at times and she might not feel comfortable on her own. . . .”

  “I understand.” Mel paused and pressed his lips together. “Listen, when your daughter does the Oprah Winfrey Show, make sure she mentions my name.” Mel laughed. “Seriously, I will do whatever I can to make this easy for you and Loretta. I can juggle a few things around on my schedule so that I can complete her session all in the same day and in time for you to meet your friends for dinner.”

  “You can? Well, I don’t want you slappin’ together a few pictures and rushin’ us off. I want my daughter to have a portfolio that she can be proud to show around. Especially since I have to pay you—”

  “Listen. I like to make a buck as much as the next guy, but I don’t want you to think that all I care about is the money. It touches my heart to see black youngsters doing something with their lives other than having a houseful of babies, waiting on the mailman to deliver a welfare check every month, or joining a street gang. Now, like I told you, I can rearrange my schedule so that I can devote the whole day to Loretta. Believe me, I would never ‘slap together’ something—even for a model I didn’t like. I have a reputation to consider.”

  Maureen regretted making the comment about Mel slapping together a few pictures. “I’ll bring my checkbook when I come back on Saturday. I’d like to pay you the deposit right away. My brother said he’d be happy to lend me the rest of the money.”

  “That’s fine, Mrs. Montgomery—”

  “It’s Miss,” Maureen interrupted. “I don’t have a husband.”

  Mel took this innocent clarification the wrong way. He honestly thought that she was being flirtatious. He couldn’t count the number of times the mothers of other young models had “solicited” him. Well, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. What better way to keep his hands in Loretta’s panties than by getting close to her mother? Talk about killing two birds with one stone!

  “Well, in that case, maybe I can invite you to have dinner and drinks with me in the near future,” he suggested.

  Maureen held her breath to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mel seemed like a nice guy and he was good-looking, but he didn’t appeal to her at all. However, she wouldn’t mind having dinner with him. If he was going to be photographing and managing her daughter’s career, she needed to get to know him better anyway.

  CHAPTER 9

  MAUREEN CAME UP WITH A LOT OF EXCUSES NOT TO GO OUT WITH Mel when he asked, which he did almost every time she saw him. A few examples of her excuses were she had a date with somebody else, she didn’t feel well, or she had company coming over. Even when she used the same excuses more than one time, he kept asking.

  “You work with beautiful models, and I know a man like you must mingle with all kinds of other women along the way,” Maureen pointed out. “Don’t you already have a girlfriend or somethin’?” she finally asked.

  “Not at the moment,” Mel told her, which was the truth. He had recently broken up with the woman he had been seeing for over a year when she told him she wanted to have his baby and was not going to take no for an answer. Well, he was not about to be bouncing a wailing baby on his knee and making child-support payments, so that was the end of that relationship.

  “I’m glad I have thick skin,” Mel joked when Maureen told him that she had to stay home every night that week to shampoo her carpets. He added with an exaggerated whine, “Otherwise, I’m liable to think that you really don’t like me.”

  Maureen laughed. “I do like you, Mel.” She didn’t have the
nerve to tell him that she didn’t like him enough to start a relationship. She told him the next best thing. “But since you work with my daughter, maybe we should just keep things on a business level.”

  “Do I stink? Is my breath bad? Do I look funny?” Mel wanted to know, actually looking hurt.

  Maureen laughed again. “The answer to all of your questions is no.”

  “Well, if the only reason you don’t want to socialize with me is because I work with your daughter, that’s not much of a reason. I have dated other women associated with my work. What if you go out with me for a business reason?”

  “What business reason would that be? I don’t want to be a supermodel.”

  “But your daughter does. Since she’s still a minor, there will be things coming up in the future that you will have to approve for her. We could discuss things like that over a few drinks. Your daughter tells me you love to eat out. What’s wrong with two business associates having dinner together?”

  “Nothin’ is . . . is wrong with . . . with that,” Maureen stuttered.

  “For your information, I have several female friends that I take out from time to time. Some are even married. Maybe in the near future, when you don’t have to wash your hair or shampoo your carpet, you can join me for dinner or a drink. We can talk more about your daughter’s future.”

  Maureen knew when she was trapped. She had a feeling that Mel was probably not going to stop badgering her for a “date” unless she did something drastic. Getting ghetto and cussing a pest out usually got that pest off your back. If she borrowed a huge sum of money from him and took her time paying him back (or not at all), that would probably do the trick too. Things like that were not Maureen’s style, though. Maybe if Mel saw how much she ate and drank in expensive restaurants, that would scare him off. Or maybe if she did something to embarrass him in public, he’d lose interest in her. It didn’t take Maureen long to decide that she couldn’t do any of that. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin Loretta’s chance for success before she even got her feet wet.