by Tiana Laveen
“Yes, I do, Gingerbread Man, but it’s more like a Yule Log,” Xenia grinned.
“You tell me my ego is too big, but you keep feeding it by saying stuff like that. I wouldn’t mind some of your sweet potato pie sliding up and down my North Pole,” Saint laughed as he took her hand. They walked briskly as he looked around trying to find a spot. He pointed to a storage alley with no exit between two buildings.
“Come here,” he said as he pulled her arm, leading her to the very back where a concrete enclosure blocked them. The snow blanketed their hair, glistening before it melted away.
“It’s so cold out here!” Xenia blurted as she started to second-guess herself.
“Oh, no. Don’t try to get cold feet now!” Saint said as he opened his coat and unzipped his pants.
“That’s the problem – my feet really are cold!” Xenia said, making a pitiful face.
“Too bad, Mrs. Claus. You should’ve thought about that before you invited Rudolph to guide your sleigh tonight. You’re about to see some silver balls, I mean, bells,” Saint said as he unbuttoned her coat and pushed her dress up around her waist. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, then cradled her panty-hose covered crotch. Saint took his car key out of his pocket, carefully ripping a small hole in them. He spread it wider with his hands, making a small opening. Xenia jumped as she felt his knuckles move across her pussy as he tore the hole a bit broader. Saint lifted her up, pressing her back firmly against the concrete wall, holding her steady with one hand. He quickly pulled his dick out of his boxers and guided himself inside her. He held her up with both hands, looking her in the eye as the snow continued to immerse them in preemptive holiday cheer. She moaned as he plunged inside. Cool air flowed out of their open mouths with each breath. Xenia’s excitement grew.
“You wanted your stockings stuffed,” Saint teased. “Are you my ho, ho, ho? Asking for an outside quickie then trying to back out. Oh, no, my Dear, you’ve been a naughty little girl. Santa is going to have to put you over his lap so you can meet his three wise men, my dick and his two sidekicks,” Saint continued to joke, making Xenia laugh as she tightly held onto him. She drew her face even closer to his with each thrust.
“Damn, I love your dick!” Xenia moaned in his ear as she gripped him around his neck harder and harder, closing her eyes tightly.
“Nothing like some good hot pussy on a cold night,” Saint said as he vehemently kissed her neck, sucking on it aggressively while he continued to pump. Saint transitioned, churning his hips in slow, circular motions. Xenia opened her eyes to discover Saint staring at her. She could almost hear their heartbeats as the surroundings seemed to abruptly go mute. She brushed her lips against his as the ringing bells of a Salvation Army collection bucket became the only outside noise allowed into the tiny world they’d just created. She sucked seductively on his bottom lip as he stared at her so hard it felt like he was privately interviewing her soul.
‘God, he’s so sexy,’ Xenia thought as she felt her excitement building. Saint lowered his head onto her chest. He pushed in and out of her deeply, heaving and sighing loudly with each plunge.
“Mmm, Baby, I love you so much,” he uttered as he continued to look down and move around inside her. Xenia squeezed him as her orgasm warmed her all over. She contorted, going limp in his arms. He held her tightly as he continued to drill upward. Her left high heel fell to the ground, soon covered by snow as the duo continued to make ardent love.
“So wet,” Saint panted. “You came all over my cock, and now it’s my turn.” Saint spurted, lunging and moaning until he had been milked dry by Xenia’s contracting pussy walls. They both sighed and breathed heavily as their bodies pushed together, creating a small sliver of warmth in the cool air. Saint pulled out, reached down, and grabbed her shoe, then placed it on her foot and lowered her carefully back on her feet. He put his dick back into his underwear, quickly zipping up his pants. She pulled her bunched-up dress back down, shaking a little to release any wrinkles, then buttoned her coat back up. Saint took her by the hand, racing back to his parked car. He looked at the time.
“Shit, we have to hurry,” he said as he opened her door, got in the car, and pulled away from the curb. Xenia looked over at him. In her mind, she was still in the alley being loved over and over again. She smiled at him listlessly, and then ran her fingers through the back of his hair.
* * *
CHAPTER 8
“Now see, I feel like something is incomplete. We can never do quickies and be satisfied, but it’ll have to do for now. We can finish after our event. I love how spontaneous you are, Baby.” He winked at her.
“I love you,” Xenia said, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t know why she was so caught up in emotion. “I must be getting ready to come on,” she laughed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “I feel all sentimental about you tonight, so insecure and clingy.”
“I’m all yours, Baby – forever,” Saint said, looking at her briefly as he reached the restaurant where the dinner and meeting were being held. A valet attendant immediately approached the car. The attendant helped Xenia out the car while Saint handed over his keys. Saint waved to several acquaintances who called out to him as they stood outside the large brick building with white awning and bright white lights. Cigar smoke emanated from small groups of wealthy white, Latino, and Asian men, most of them laughing and whispering amongst each other. Premium leather coats, rich Egyptian oils, and huge diamond rings appeared to be standard for the evening.
“Saint!” a man called out. Saint looked over at the thin Asian man with a long black ponytail. “Hey, Xuan, nice to see you again, Man.” Saint gripped his hand and leaned his shoulder against his as they greeted one another. Xenia felt as if a thousand eyes were looking her over. She heard someone quietly say “That’s her.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Xuan responded as he opened the door for Saint and Xenia. Xuan closed his eyes as she walked past and bowed his head to her in reverence. As if in slow motion, Xenia’s eyes grew as she entered another world. She looked at her husband closely. Saint seemed to transform into some revered superhero in a sea of wealthy Rainbeau men anxiously awaiting his speech. The crowd parted, making way as he stepped inside. The talking ceased. Saint’s heavy footsteps could be heard clicking on the marble floor. Circles of dense tobacco smoke floated like wayward ghosts from the packed bar into the meeting rooms which were filled with rich, hungry-eyed men, crisp betting money, and plentiful drinking. Saint wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist, bringing her closer. He stopped walking briefly to help her remove her coat, then hung it over his arm. Xenia was disoriented by the dull red lights as she looked side to side. Rows of people watched them as if they were a two-person parade. Saint took his coat off and swung it over his shoulder. A petite Senegalese woman with shiny, black Bantu knots approached Saint, her dark eyes shifting towards Xenia intermittently as she took their coats.
“Bonjour, Saint. It’s wonderful to see you this evening. I’ll take these,” she said, her accent clinging to each syllable she uttered.
“Merci, Amintata,” Saint said as he thanked her.
“De rien,” the woman responded. Xenia turned around and met eyes with the gawking woman. A stare-down ensued. Xenia stopped walking, grimaced, and kept watch while Saint was distracted by another man calling his name. He suddenly noticed Xenia was turned the opposite direction. He followed her eyes.
“Now, now Pussy Cat,” Saint grinned as he stroked her cheek and lips, “Amintata just works here. She’s good people, OK? Retract your claws, Baby,” he said as he grabbed Xenia tightly around the waist.
“Let’s Get Naked” by the Highland Place Mobsters started to play. Xenia looked back at the people they passed. It seemed so surreal to her, this underground world she would never have known existed. She couldn’t believe all of these men were here because of their obsession with Black women. It was magnificently bizarre and eerily beautiful. Xenia continued to walk, watching heads
bow as she passed by. She looked at men across the walkway playing pool and poker, as soon as eye contact was made, they immediately stopped whatever it was they were doing and lowered their head. Xenia looked up at Saint, her lips slightly parted as she wished to ask a million questions, but nothing came out.
The song’s bass vibrated throughout the rooms, almost covering the laughter and candid conversations being held between beautiful Black women in shades of sweet peach to dark cherry. Xenia looked at the array of women, some of which looked like they walked right out of a Photoshopped magazine print ad. She looked at one young man with hair so light it looked white. His eyes were such a light blue, they almost appeared clear. He held tightly onto a tall Black woman with natural corn-rowed hair flowing all the way down to the bottom of her ass. Her short, red dress showcased legs that seemed to have no end. Saint continued to usher his wife through the crowd. Flashing lights came, as if paparazzi were present in this private venue. Instead, it was just adoring fans and friends taking photos for their private collections. Xenia heard nebulous conversations and the sound of alcohol being poured. She could detect specific comments around her.
“Look, Saint’s here now.”
“That’s his ‘queen.’”
“She’s beautiful. I’d expect him to have nothing less.”
Saint arrived at a back room with a large, clear table in the center. The continent of Africa was etched into it as if it were made of ice. Surrounding the table were ashtrays, glasses filled with water, several bottles of liquor, and small shot glasses. On the walls were similar artwork as found in Saint’s home – beautiful oil paintings of Black women with non-Black men and photographs of happy interracial couples. After they walked in, a crowd of people followed behind, along with two waitresses dressed in winter white pant suits. Saint looked at them and grimaced.
“What’s wrong?” Xenia asked as she saw his facial expression.
“I explicitly said no Black male staff and no white female staff. We’ve had problems in the past,” he murmured as concern grew over his face. “Stay right here, Baby,” Saint said as he walked up to them. Xenia could not hear what he was saying, but before she knew it, they were looking at each other and shaking their heads in confusion. Saint stood between them, placed his hands affectionately around their waists and gingerly escorted them out the room.
Xenia smirked. ‘He looks like a damn pimp walking out with two snow bunny hoes,’ she thought, trying to keep from laughing. Saint motioned to a man that appeared to be the manager of the establishment. She saw Saint whispering to him. The man nodded repeatedly in agreement. Xenia read his lips: “I apologize. We’ll take care of it right away.” Saint nodded, shook his hand, and walked away returning back to Xenia.”
“OK, Baby,” he said before kissing her softly on the lips. “Let’s get something to eat and get started.” He rubbed his hands together. Saint pulled out her chair, next to his at the head of the table. “By the way, you’ll be the only woman in here until we have the other speakers. Those women you saw out there are girlfriends and wives. No other women are allowed in the room right now as I explained to you at home, but I just wanted to clarify why you see them outside. Don’t start any shit,” Saint warned as he put his finger up to her soft lips.
Xenia sucked her teeth and crossed her arms, resisting the urge to question him further about what he said. “Well, why am I allowed then?” she said, unable to stop herself.
“Why do you think? Because you’re with me.” He sat down beside her and picked up the leather bound menu setting before them on the table, then passed it to Xenia. Two Black women entered, dressed in the same white pant suits. Saint nodded at them. “Much better,” he said under his breath.
“Do you know what you want, Sweetheart?” he asked Xenia over the loud music. Xenia nodded and pointed. Saint nodded as he looked where her fingers landed. Smoke drifted past them as one of the waitress spotted him and immediately walked up.
“Hello, Dr. and Mrs. Aknaten. My name is Tina. It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. What can I get for you tonight?” she asked as she pulled out an electronic tablet to record their order.
“Hello, Tina,” Saint said as he looked at the menu. “My wife and I will have oysters on the half shell, Alaskan king crab legs, and twin lobster tails. Let’s get two black-and-blue sea scallop salads with that and a bottle of Domain Droubin.” Saint closed the menu and handed it to Tina who promptly walked away.
Xenia wrapped her hands around Saint’s arm as he appeared to be in deep thought as more men filtered into the room until all the seats were filled. The walls were soon wallpapered with men standing against them, and the door spilled open with more people, listening intently. Saint whispered in Xenia’s ear “I love you.” He smiled and kissed her cheek as he stood up and walked towards the front of the room. Applause rang out as he stood in front of the podium. The waitresses worked the room, taking dinner and beverage orders as Saint took a drink of a glass of water already set aside specifically for him.
Saint pointed to the door, “I’m sorry that there aren’t enough seats. I’m going to need that door closed though. This is private. We still have other patrons that have nothing to do with this walking around out there.” T-Rex showed up by the door, pushing shoulders and legs back as he closed and locked it.
Xenia sat at the opposite end of the table as the podium. She felt as though she was in some strange trance. If he wasn’t hers, she would want him to be. If she hadn’t just had him inside her less than an hour ago, she would have to resist jumping on him right then and there. She licked her lips as she zoned in on him, watching his every move. Her new obsession was fed each time he opened his mouth, touched her, or moved a crowd to the point they seemed to be at his beckon call.
“Good evening gentlemen – and Goddess,” Saint smiled as he looked across the long room at her. Eyes turned in her direction with some whispering. Saint turned around as T-Rex made his way up to him and pinned a microphone to his shirt.
“Men, this is my ‘queen,’ my soulmate, my bride, my better half, my rib, my angel. I’m sure all of you know that I recently got married. Xenia is from California, but many of you know of her radio show and listen to her in the mornings on your way to work. Please make her feel at home, but you all know the rules. We don’t approach each other’s brides. Don’t ever approach my wife with questions about me. Never walk up to someone’s ‘queen’ and disrespect her like that. Come to me first. No one’s made that faux pas this evening, but I just wanted to mention that because we’re discussing the rules of marriage this evening. Thank you.” Saint took another sip of his water.
“We’re going to eat first, but just to let you know, tonight I’m going to discuss the sacredness of the marital bed. Everyone in here is either engaged or married. That’s why you were allowed to attend. When we say ‘the marital bed,’ it doesn’t just mean the bed. It means your entire home. Wherever you have sex with your ‘queen’ is your marital bed,” Saint said. He smiled, his heart beating faster as a brief thought of pinning Xenia against the concrete as snow dusted them entered his mind. “We’re going to discuss how to prepare the home for your bride, how to maintain the romance, how to keep other people’s negative energy out of your space and keep your kingdom pure. I’m not going to get into proliferation tonight, but I just want to say that how and when you plan to make children is important, and that’s another reason why your marital bed needs to be set up in a certain way that meets the needs of both of you. There are some other brothers that are going to speak tonight, and I look forward to hearing them, as I’m sure all of you do too. First though, let’s eat dinner, and then I’ll begin forty-five minutes from now.” Saint removed the microphone from his shirt and walked back across the room as platters of food were brought out. Two additional Black waitresses joined the original two as drinks were passed around. He sat down next to Xenia, took her hand, and kissed it, clasping her hand to his lap as various people kept coming up to him. As
dinner wrapped up, Saint approached the podium again. Xenia occasionally looked around the room as she sipped on her glass of wine. The men in the room puffed on pipes, cigarettes, cigars and nursed glasses of expensive brandy and champagne. She watched as there was an intermittent burst of applause, laughter, and head nodding. She looked back at Saint who had mesmerized everyone in the room. Even the waitresses caught themselves stopping, pretending to be cleaning up dirty plates while they listened.
“Feng shui is based on these principles,” Saint continued. “You can’t just set down anything in your environment without knowing where it came from, what it’s made of, and where it needs to be. For those of you who are Jewish, it’s similar to keeping a kosher kitchen. There are laws that need to be abided by or your entire energy level could be thrown off. Don’t bring anything in your home from an ex-lover. Get rid of all old gifts and letters from exes, all of that. If you don’t, you leave residual, and it signals a permission to come back, even if only in your mate’s mind. I don’t buy anything from antique shops. I love antiques, but unless I know exactly where and from whom it came from, I don’t want it. Objects soak up energy from their owners, especially if a person was particularly attached to that object. If you bring it into your home, you bring their energy. Your house should only have positivity. It should only have energy from you, your ‘queen,’ and your children. Listen to your ‘queen.’ You’re the ‘king of the castle,’ but it’s hers to prepare as she wishes. Cluttered environments interrupt positive energy. Extremes can be seen in the case of hoarding. Get rid of all things that are lying around that you aren’t using. You also need your environment to be clean. If you don’t have time, hire someone. There’s no greater turnoff than to be making love and look down and see a bunch of dirty clothes or smell something that wasn’t thrown out. Not only does it disrupt the energy and the mood of your home, it soils it. When you have an argument with your mate inside your home, your house soaks up that energy and records it. When you make love, your house soaks that up too. It tapes everything you do. Your house is your sanctuary. Don’t allow people who don’t care about you inside for extended periods. They’ll stain the energy. Now, I know that we all have disagreements with our ‘queens.’ I get that. It’d be unrealistic to expect everyone to coexist without a disagreement, an argument, a verbal conflict – shit, maybe even some dishes flying across the room right at your head,” Saint said as people laughed. “So you’ll need to cleanse your home of that. I suggest burning white sage. You want it fresh. Burn it and walk around your house telling any bad energy to leave. It’s the same as Christians putting oil on doors and windows and Catholics waving crucifixes and drizzling holy water to bless a home. The exact same principles apply here.
