by Tiana Laveen
“Can I ask you a personal question, strictly off the record?” She stretched her legs out.
“Yes, you can, as long as I can ask one as well.”
“OK, fine, whatever,” Xenia said, rolling her eyes. “Do you think Black women are better than other women, and if so, why?” She stuck her finger in her glass of wine, pulled it out, and tasted it.
Saint sighed as he watched her, his penis jumping in reaction. “She’s definitely playing a mating game with me. She loves me chasing her,” he thought.
“I don’t believe Black women are better than any other woman from the standpoint of intelligence, needs, and things of that nature. I believe, however, that Black women are coveted by many men all over the world, but there has been a shame in admitting that, mostly because of racism. I honestly wish I didn’t have to talk about race or distinguish anyone. That’s my aim, my mission. I’m more attracted to Black women than women of other races, and I’m not alone. That’s what started this. There are non-Black men all over the world who prefer Black women, sometimes from a purely aesthetic point. My love for women of color, particularly Black women, goes not just to the physical and sexual aspect, but to her spirit, soul, strength, and her loyalty. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes, it does,” she said as she took a sip of her wine.
“Now, my turn,” he said as he scooted closer to her. Xenia inhaled as she caught the scent of his cologne again.
“I didn’t know this park was open at night,” Xenia said, changing the topic nervously as he invaded her personal space.
“It’s not,” Saint responded as he looked deeply into her eyes.
“Well, then how did – never mind,” she said.
Xenia looked down at his soft lips, his long keen nose, then up to his sparkling hazel eyes. She noticed his thick, smooth, jet-black eyebrows as well as his long eyelashes and a small, brown beauty mark on the side of his neck. His radiant skin seemed to have a golden glow. He was beautiful, there was no getting around it, and she wished – she prayed deep inside that she could ignore this simple fact.
“My question for you is ‘why are you afraid of me?’” Saint asked as he sat closer to her, his deep voice rumbling close to her ear.
Xenia ruffled up her face and turned away abruptly.
“Shhh,” Saint warned. “Before you say something foolish or get defensive, remember, it’s just you and me here. There’s no one to impress – no microphones, no interviews, no ratings. It’s just me and you. I want you to stop lying to yourself and give me the real answer this time. If I don’t hear the real answer, I’ll know it, so please be real with me.”
“I told you, Saint, I’m not scared of you, and I don’t know where you get that. Does your large ego ever make you dizzy? I mean, surely with all that weight above your shoulders, you must lose your equilibrium with every step!” Xenia snapped her neck and rolled her eyes indignantly.
Saint sighed loudly and put his hands over his face. “Damn. I knew that you’d be difficult. I knew that anyone for me would be a mystery and would act tough at times, but this is ridiculous.” He put his face so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her nose. “Since you want to lie, just keep your mouth closed. Better yet, keep it open. I’m going to kiss you.”
Before she could respond, his lips pressed firmly against hers, staying there for a few moments before he lightly licked her top lip, then moved away. He could see on her face that she felt it. The connection was there. Xenia returned the kiss, as if all the previous arguments, verbal low blows, and catty behavior had never taken place. There was no way to deny the mutual attraction now.
“Now, let’s try this again. Tell me why you’re afraid of me?” Saint took her hand into his.
Xenia looked at his face and tried to articulate an answer. “I honestly don’t know. You just make me uncomfortable. Maybe it’s that I find you to be a worthy opponent. People don’t tell me off, so I didn’t like that.” Xenia abruptly looked away.
Saint nodded. “You’d never fully respect a man if he let you get away with walking on him. You test boundaries. You have problems with control, but really you want someone to take the reins, protect you, and not take your shit.” Saint looked down at the ground. “With me, what you see is what you get. I find you incredibly beautiful, and despite our rocky start, I really like you.”
Xenia smiled. “This being vulnerable shit is for the birds,” she laughed. “I suppose some of what you’re saying could be true. I wouldn’t call it fear, though. I don’t know what it is. You just make me uneasy.”
“Could it also be because you’re attracted to me, and you don’t want to be?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow.
Xenia shrugged, “That’s possible, I suppose.”
Saint leaned in close to her again, this time gently cupping her chin and moving her face towards him. He kissed her slow and sweetly, gently parting her lips open with his tongue. He breathed deeply, with control, as he moved his tongue in slow counterclockwise circles inside her mouth. Xenia tried to push away, but relinquished her power without much fight. Saint cradled the back of her neck with his hand, bringing her face even closer to his as he plunged deeper into her mouth. Xenia felt the butterflies in her stomach dance then fly away in a million directions. He finally pulled away. He touched her lips, wiping a bit of saliva away with his thumb. In her thirty-two years on the planet, she had never been kissed that way before. Saint kissed passionately and skillfully. They both were quiet for a few minutes.
“How did you get the name ‘Saint?’” Xenia asked as she leaned back under the stars of the night sky.
‘The chase is slowing down,’ Saint thought. ‘She’s now looking back at me, and I’m catching up with her. She can feel the grass under her feet as she sprints, and the gap between us is narrowing. The prey has to want to be caught.’
“If I answer this, do I also get another one of my questions answered?” he asked as he poured them both another glass of wine. Xenia shrugged and smiled. “I suppose so.”
Saint looked at her and then down at the basket as he spoke. “When I was born, my parents were still trying to determine a name for me. My mother was a free spirit and came up with all sorts of names that my father didn’t like. He wanted me to have a Muslim name, and she didn’t. I wasn’t seven days old yet, and such a wait is customary before naming a child according to my father’s religious beliefs. He agreed to let her proceed, but they still squabbled. She looked down at me and said that I looked like an angel, and maybe that should be my name. My father told her that when he thought of angels, he thought of girls. She looked at me again and said, ‘I don’t think angels have a gender. He’s so perfect, we should call him “Prophet” or “Saint.”’ My mother wanted it to be a universally spiritual concept. They agreed upon ‘Saint.’”
“Were you close to your mother?”
“Xenia, you said one question. I answered two. Now here is a third, and about my mother no less. Didn’t you get enough of this subject during the first interview?”
“I apologize, but I’m just trying to talk to you, to get to know you. This isn’t the radio woman talking right now, it’s really me.”
“I don’t mind answering questions. Matter of fact, I welcome it from you. To get to know someone, you have to ask questions as well as observe. I just want you to be as open as I am. Don’t ask me to open myself up and not give the same in return. My life is private. I’ve kept it that way so that the tabloids would have to make up things to get a story. I don’t want to be the only vulnerable one right now. You know why I’m here, and you know what I’m trying to do. We don’t need to play games.”
“Yes, you’re trying to hit, and I’m trying to honor my obligation,” Xenia said flippantly.
Saint waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. I’ll always call you on anything you say that doesn’t make sense.”
“What do you mean ‘always,’ as if there will be a second and third chance to say any
thing to me.”
“You know what this is. I’m wooing you. I’m courting you. Women and men since the beginning of time have done this before there was even a name for it. You think I’m just trying to fuck you, but it’s much deeper than that,” Saint explained.
“So you admit you’re trying to fuck me? I knew it. You aren’t worth a damn.”
“You’re the one bringing up sex right now, not me,” Saint said. “When it comes to conversations regarding my mother, I’m a little sensitive, so don’t ask me to discuss it if you aren’t willing to be real with me. You haven’t earned it because you aren’t even able to look me in the eye right now,” Saint said. “You’ve avoided eye contact all night. You barely held my hand, not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re afraid and it makes you feel uneasy. When I kissed you, you felt the same thing I did, and all that did was make you even more afraid. I need to know before I open up to you that you’re at least willing to listen with an open mind. I can’t have you sitting over there calculating another move or doing something that’ll derail the trust I’m trying to establish. Do you understand?”
Xenia began to speak then stopped. Her nonverbal response was all Saint needed. The look on her face, complete fright mixed with adoration, let him know exactly where she stood.
He saw her look of defeat and proceeded, “Yes, I was extremely close to her. My mother and I were best friends. She’s the reason I had the courage to do what I do now. She always encouraged me to do the right thing even if it meant I’d be attacked and ostracized.” Saint tilted his head and looked at Xenia. He traced her lips with his fingertip. “You’re absolutely stunning,” he whispered to her. Xenia smiled.
“Stop trying to run game, Saint.”
Saint smiled, “I’m being for real.” He took her hand as he stood up, forcing her to stand alongside him. Hand in hand, he walked her to a nearby merry-go-round.
“When was the last time you rode – a merry-go-round?” Saint asked, smiling widely as the operator looked at them and began to start the gears.
“I have no idea – maybe sixteen or seventeen years old!” Xenia answered. “So now you got folks running rides after hours? You’re something else.” Xenia shook her head.
“Pick a horse,” Saint instructed. Xenia looked at all the shiny, multi-colored horses barely moving, going up and down, around and around on golden sticks that shone under the bright canopy lights. She walked over to a black, gleaming stallion with painted-on silver chains and a white saddle. Saint laughed and shook his head. “Still trying to ride that Black dick, huh?” he joked.
“Always. Why mess with perfection?” Xenia said as she jumped up on the horse and slid her legs on each side of it.
“I see you like to ride, but is that Black dick there in the morning?” Saint said under his breath with a wicked grin. The man revved the ride into full gear, and suddenly Saint was gone from view. Xenia looked around, trying to find him, and then she felt his hard body pressed against her back. He cradled her tightly as he sat behind her, pushing his groin into her buttocks as he wrapped his long, warm arms around her waist, squeezing her and keeping her close. Xenia felt her nerves being worked over. His scent, body heat, and breathing were all around her, overwhelming her senses. She looked down as he momentarily intertwined his long fingers with hers before letting go and holding her around her waist again.
‘Caught,’ Saint thought. He imagined her as a lioness and himself as a lion, mounting her as he bit the back of her neck, preparing her for mating. ‘Make love to her mind, seduce her so well she doesn’t know what hit her, make that pussy yours a.s.a.p.’ Saint’s thoughts continued to run.
Anxiety and excitement bum-rushed her sanities. Gradually, Saint’s fingers spread outward like fans, as they slid upward onto her shirt, rubbing softly against her breasts. He felt her nipples harden from his touch.
“Stop it,” Xenia said sternly, looking at him from over her shoulder. “Don’t do that, seriously. I’m kind of seeing someone,” she said over the sound of the pistons and carnival music. The bright lights of the ride showered down upon them, making them front and center stage. The colors began to blur as the ride sped up. Xenia blinked, feeling dizzy. She didn’t know if it was from the ride, the wine, or this beautiful man fucking her with their clothes on.
Saint removed his hand and put it back on her waist. “That other fling is not serious, and you and I both know it,” he whispered in her ear, as he held her waist tighter. Xenia was annoyed by his truth. “He’s not even a boyfriend, just someone who comes around from time to time and takes but never gives back. He can’t do what I can do for you – and to you. He has nothing on me. I talk shit, but I can back it up. I told you before to stop lying to me, but first you have to stop lying to yourself.”
The horse moved up and down, and with each upward thrust, Saint moved his groin ever so slowly forward into her lower back. With each downward push, he moved away. He listened as her breathing slowed and became more audible. He watched as her shoulders relaxed, allowing her head and back to press into his chest. She leaned further back against him, and her sexual excitement proved too much. Her panties were drenched. She closed her eyes in self-disgust. She felt his warm breath by her neck as he embraced her tighter. His right hand ventured down to her pelvis. Gently, he took his thumb and softly strummed her forbidden area over her pant leggings. Xenia tried to push his hand away, but soon caved as she felt the first wave of sexual pleasure grab her in the gut. Saint continued to grind against her back as he stroked her clitoris over her clothing. She lulled her head back further onto his chest as she slumped down in his embrace, feeling limp and weak as he continued to make her soak her underwear over and over. Saint soon felt the dampness at the surface of her pants. The ride concluded, causing Xenia to sit up, dazed and confused. She drunkenly got off of the horse, almost losing her balance as she made her way back to their picnic area. Saint followed closely behind her, smiling. He quickly caught up to her, turned her around to face him, and lifted her chin upward. He stole another kiss, this one even more intense, passionate, and skillfully delivered. Xenia jumped, startled at a loud popping noise. Saint laughed, taking her gently by the shoulders and turning her to the fireworks going off in the sky. He brought her close to him, pulling her body to melt with his as he stood firmly behind her. He reached around her, holding her hands as they watched the light show boom for the next several minutes. When it was over, they retreated to the picnic area.
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” she said. “I must have had too much to drink.”
“I doubt that. You only had two glasses, one of which is still half full.” He held up her glass to show her.
“Saint, I’m not some toy. I have a real life and feelings. I don’t want to be one of your projects or hos that hang around like flies on shit.” Xenia sat back down on the blanket. Saint joined her and touched her thigh. He leaned over and kissed her neck, his warm mouth sucking gently along it. Xenia sighed loudly as she realized he had found her most erogenous spot. He cupped her right breast over her shirt, squeezing it gently, then slowly reached down and pulled her pants along with her panties down around her knees, sliding his fingers inside her pulsating pussy as he laid her flat on the ground. Xenia halfheartedly tried to remove his hand. He slicked his fingers over her mound, working his way slowly to open her folds. Xenia panted heavily in his ear, her eyes rolling back in her head as he continued to do his slow build-up with his long, agile fingers. She grinded against his hand, each stroke making her wetter and wetter. Soon she felt him slide one finger inside. He worked the finger in and out, bending it at the knuckle. Then he inserted a second finger moving both of them together. He pressed his fingertips against her upper walls, sliding them down abruptly, back and forth as he stimulated her G-spot.
“Oh, God,” Xenia uttered as she held onto his neck tightly, closing her eyes firmly shut.
‘Mating dance almost over,’ he thought with great satisfaction,
imagining his heavy lion paw on her back, seeing her almost conquered.
Saint continued to stimulate her G-spot until she gushed down his hand and wrist and began to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes flew open as she looked up at him, now on her back in a state of shock. Saint continued to move his fingers inside her slowly, creating small reverberations until her body relaxed. He removed his hand from her panties and gently helped her pull up her pants. He cleaned his fingers with a wet wipe from the picnic basket and looked at her with deep concern on his face.
Xenia wanted to ask him how he knew how to do that, where he learned it, but then she remembered he was a sex therapist and decided to keep her questions guarded.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me what you really want, not what you think you should say.”
Xenia waited.
“Do you want to come back to my hotel room with me tonight?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Again, don’t tell me what you think you should say. Tell me what you want.”
Xenia’s eyes grew as she looked at him closely. Her hesitation was obvious. “Saint, I tell women to wait three months in my book and that’s for a reason. We have to get to know someone first before we give ourselves to a guy.”
“You’ve already known me for decades,” Saint said. “I’m not going to play by your self-imposed rules. If two people want to make love, they should. This isn’t a casual affair for me.”
Xenia rolled her eyes, “Saint, stop it. I’m for real.”
“And so am I. You know that you feel comfortable now, vastly different than just an hour ago. My touch woke up familiarity. Admit it, I feel familiar. Nothing about me feels foreign when I kiss you. While I was finger-fucking you, there was nothing that made you think ‘a stranger is doing this to me.’ I’m not a stranger to you. We have a soul connection.”
Xenia knew, as strange as it sounded, he was right. She knew after the first kiss that he felt like someone she had known from back in the day. It was as if old memories flew past her when they touched, only she couldn’t discern their exact place in time.
