Succulent

by Zane

  “Maxxine, did you hear me?” he inquired, sucking on my neck.

  Confusion must have been written all over my face. “Huh?”

  Kenneth intertwined his fingers with mine and kissed them. He gazed into my eyes and told me again, “I love you, Maxxine.”

  Was this man serious?

  “Kenneth, please, you don’t love me.”

  “I do, dear.”

  “You love fucking me.”

  “I’m not going to deny that, but it’s much more than that. I want to be with you.”

  I darted my eyes at him with disbelief. How the fuck did I get myself into this mess? I let go of Kenneth’s hand and wrapped the sheet around my body as I got out of the moistened bed.

  “Maxxine, where are you going?”

  Kenneth got out of bed as well, with his curved dick bouncing around in the air, and walked over to me.

  “What’s the matter, dear?”

  He caressed my cold shoulders as I revealed the problem.

  “I can’t see you anymore, Kenneth. It’s over. I’m going to tell my husband about us. I have to go.”

  “Why would you do that? It won’t do you any good.”

  “I don’t keep secrets from my husband and I don’t lie to him!” I yelled.

  He stopped caressing my shoulders. “You’re only going to hurt him.”

  “I already have, but he doesn’t know it yet.”

  I walked over to the balcony sliding doors, looking at the vista for some answer to fix this. Kenneth followed behind me. I sensed that he was searching for some words to say, but he decided against it, and I spoke for him instead.

  “I’m sorry, Kenneth. This is all my fault and I shouldn’t have led you into thinking that we were going to have a committed future together.”

  “Maxxine, you have given me the best week of my life. I don’t want that to end. You gave me a reason to live again. I want you in my life, dear,” he said passionately.

  That’s when I turned around to face him and told him for the last fucking time it was over.

  “Kenneth, you’ll never see me again after today. I have to go.”

  “I have to meet someone in a little while. I want to see you later tonight.”

  What the hell was this? I know I wasn’t talking to myself. Didn’t he hear anything I had just said to him? What part of “it’s over” didn’t he understand? Kenneth knew what the deal was from the beginning.

  “That’s impossible. My husband has a surprise for me and I’m not going to let him down again.”

  “Please, just this last time. I promise. You won’t have to see me anymore.”

  I looked Kenneth square in his beautiful dark eyes. “No, Kenneth. I’m going to take a quick shower, put my clothes back on, and then I’m leaving. I’m truly sorry, but it’s over between us. My husband will be expecting me soon and I must go.”

  I could see the agony in Kenneth’s eyes. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t keep our affair going. He had known the deal from the beginning. It would only cause more damage later on.

  After leaving Kenneth’s hotel suite, I didn’t go straight home. I never left the Hilton Hotel. I got on the elevator and ended up in the ladies’ room on the lobby level sobbing like a baby. While sitting on the floor in the handicapped stall, I thought about how my life had become so screwed up in a matter of days. I had never anticipated that my winter break would be filled with blissful, unadulterated sex. If I were only more open and demanding with Kamar when it came to paying more attention to my needs, I wouldn’t have been in that predicament.

  I heard my BlackBerry vibrating in my purse. I hoped it wasn’t Kenneth calling me. I unzipped my purse and pulled it out. I looked at the caller ID; it was Kamar. I hadn’t realized it was after four thirty. I had been wallowing for nearly three hours. I cleared my voice and answered his call. He asked where was I and when was I coming home.

  “I’m on my way now.”

  “Okay, gorgeous, I can’t wait for you to see this!” he said anxiously.

  I tried my best to be complacent. “Me either. I love you, Kamar.”

  “I love you, too. Now hurry up and get your beautiful self home.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  After talking with my husband, I freshened my makeup to look as if I hadn’t been crying and that everything was fine. If only that had been even half the truth.

  I arrived home twenty minutes later, nervous as hell. I had to tell Kamar what I’d been doing on my vacation, more like whom I’d been doing. When I pulled up in my driveway, I noticed an SUV parked next to Kamar’s truck. What the hell was going on? I’d never seen that SUV before. I parked my car and turned off the ignition. I got out and closed the door. I walked up the cobblestone sidewalk leading to one of the main entrances to our home. I unlocked the door and walked in. I saw Kamar coming toward me with this huge smile on his face. The security alarm motioned that I was in the house.

  “Kamar, I’m sorry that I’m late.”

  He kissed my tender lips twice.

  He seemed so eager. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  “Baby, we need to talk. There’s something that I have to tell you.”

  “Okay, okay, but after I show you my surprise. It’s in the great room.”

  “What is it?”

  “Come on, you’ll see.”

  Kamar and I walked into the great room. He wrapped his strong arms around me and kissed my cheek. A man was standing at the patio doors admiring the view of the lake outside. He must have been so intrigued by the view that he didn’t hear us enter. I was wondering what this was all about and what kind of surprise was this?

  Kamar said excitedly, “Dad, I would like for you to meet my wife, Maxxine.”

  His father? I was stunned, confused, and happy to finally meet him. From the stories Kamar had told me, he and his father had never gotten along and Kamar had hardly ever mentioned him. I hadn’t even seen photographs of him, but I assumed that Kamar had gotten his good looks from him. I could sense in Kamar’s voice that the bad blood shed between them was finally in the past. His father turned around and I nearly had a heart attack. I couldn’t believe this. Kamar was still holding me tightly; I was glad he couldn’t see my face. His father approached me, took my hand into his palm, and kissed it softly.

  Kenneth grinned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.”

  Katrina

  Samantha J. Green

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was worse than a little kid at church when the Reverend Maple went into what I referred to as “disciple mode.” He could bring the congregation to its feet during a sermon, but he had the gift of gab so bad, he could talk the paint off the walls.

  Here I was, a twenty-five-year-young woman, and I was fidgeting like a five-year-old. I paid close attention when Reverend mentioned New Orleans. It was a soft spot for me, like most people, because New Orleans was such an important city in Louisiana. Even though Shreveport is in northern Louisiana, we still felt the effect of the tragedy.

  Reverend concluded, “So if anyone would be so kind as to be a host family, please meet with Mrs. Williams after the services.” I was among other church members who volunteered their home. After giving us information about the people we could possibly be hosting and taking our names, Mrs. Williams said, “We will have a meeting tomorrow night at seven for those who are still interested in being a host family.”

  The next night I pulled into the church parking lot at six forty-five. Glancing around, I was pleased at my church family’s response to helping the evacuees.

  “Sister Winfield,” Mrs. Williams said, giving me a hug. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you planning to host an entire family or a single?”

  “Well, I only have one spare bedroom, but…” My jaw dropped and my eyes focused on the male who was standing behind Mrs. Williams. He had a patent on the word fine.

  She turned around
. “Mr. Brown, I want you to meet Ms. Theresa Winfield. She will be your host family.”

  He stuck his hand out and I shook it. He didn’t let go of my hand right away. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Winfield,” he said in the most delicious New Orleans accent.

  “Oh, call me Theresa.”

  “Okay, Theresa, but only if you call me Tony.”

  “Deal.” I glanced at the retreating Mrs. Williams, who mouthed, You owe me, at me.

  I suggested that Tony and I go out to eat to get to know each other better. Tony agreed. We were sitting at IHOP and I asked, “How long have you lived in New Orleans?”

  “All my life. I graduated from Dillard—”

  “A Dillard man,” I interrupted.

  “And you know this.”

  “What about your family?”

  “It was just my mama and me growing up. She passed when I was twenty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, her life was very fulfilling. She was one of those women who knew how precious each moment was and lived life to the fullest.”

  “And taught you to do the same,” I said rather than asked.

  “Yep. And I teach that to my students.”

  “What do you teach?”

  “I teach sixth-grade English.”

  “The sixth grade?”

  “Yep, as kids make that transition from child to young adulthood. I love it.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “So what about you? What are you passionate about?”

  “My job.”

  “And what is it that you do?”

  “I’m a therapist, children mostly, but I counsel families going through divorce. I know how rough that can be.”

  “Are you a child of divorce?”

  “No. My parents didn’t divorce, just separated…a lot. I remember how confused I was, and I don’t want other kids to feel like that. I know I can’t help every child, but I do my best.”

  Tony clapped. “Bravo. I’m scared of you.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m honored to be in your presence,” he continued.

  “Oh, stop, I’m no miracle worker.”

  “Please, yes, you are. Theresa Winfield: miracle worker.”

  I put my hands over my head and adjusted an imaginary halo.

  “What are you doing?” Tony asked.

  “Adjusting my halo.” We laughed. Getting back to reality, I asked, “Have you looked for a job here?”

  “Yes, I’ve been offered a job at Green Oaks; freshman English.”

  “You should take it! I know they aren’t your sixth-graders, but they’re still transitioning from childish antics to adult ways.”

  “I’m sold on the idea. I’ll contact Principal Cleveland Robinson in the morning.”

  “Good.”

  “You like getting your way, don’t you?”

  “Shoot! Do you like boudin?” I said sarcastically, referring to the infamous southern-Louisiana dish.

  We both laughed. I couldn’t remember laughing as much as I did with Tony.

  When we got home, I showed him around. “The bedrooms are down this way. My room is to the left, straight ahead, and your room is to the right. Your private bathroom is outside your door and to the right.”

  “Okay, thank you, Theresa. I really appreciate this.”

  “It is no problem. And feel free to come to my room if you need anything.”

  His eyebrow rose at my double meaning. Instead of correcting myself, I went to my bedroom.

  Tony and I learned a lot more about each other over the next couple of weeks. I realized we were getting closer because, over dinner one night, he asked, “So why are you still single?”

  “I don’t know; haven’t found the man for me. Why are you still single?”

  “Pretty much the same.”

  “Please, no woman has tried to hook you? From speaking with you, I can tell that you aren’t too bad. I live with you, and I haven’t seen a habit that I despise.”

  “There was one woman.” He shook his head. “I fell for her hard, but she wasn’t the one for me.”

  “What did she do to you?”

  “She told me that she couldn’t see herself with me for the rest of her life.”

  “Damn, did she tell you why?”

  “Yes. She was in love with another guy.”

  “Ouch!”

  “Yeah, and she told me this after four years and a marriage proposal.”

  “Damn, she did you wrong. No wonder you’re still single.”

  He laughed. “There have been some after her, so I’m not scarred or anything like that.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “So, have you ever been engaged or close?”

  “I had a situation similar to yours. I was involved with a guy. I loved him, thought it was returned.”

  “What happened?”

  “We weren’t engaged or anything, but it was still serious, ya know.”

  “Theresa, what happened?”

  Tears fell from my eyes as I relived one of the most humiliating moments, if not the most, of my life. “I went to his apartment. I let myself in because I had a key. Why would he give me a key if we weren’t serious? Anyway, I go in and they were right there on the living room floor. It was like they couldn’t hold their passion for each other until they got to the bedroom.”

  “He was a dumb ass. Did you know the girl?”

  “No, thankfully I didn’t know her.”

  Rather than say anything else, Tony enveloped me in his strong arms. I needed to be held, and he obliged. Our relationship grew stronger that night.

  Tony spoiled me. Each time I came home, delectable smells would be coming from the kitchen. I enjoyed spicy foods, but Tony showed me what spices were all about. We would sometimes prepare meals together. He showed me how to make the most delicious jambalaya and gumbo. Over dinner we would discuss work. He loved his job and always had a story about one or more of his students. We would talk for hours about our days and the plans we had for the next day. Most nights, after we would part ways to go to bed, Tony would remain on my mind.

  One night, I found myself unable to sleep until I pleasured myself. I closed my eyes and touched myself, imagining it was Tony’s tongue circling my breasts, then going lower until he reached the juncture of my thighs. He would use his tongue to bring me to a climax so great I would forget every other man I’d ever been with. Then would come the main course: his dick. He would enter my body with one thrust. Soon we would join a rhythm that was old as time. And just as I was about to cum…

  “Theresa, are you alright?”

  I struggled to regain normal breathing patterns before I replied, “Yeah, I’m okay, Tony.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Umm…hold on for a minute.” I pulled myself together as best I could. “Yes, you can come in now.” He opened my door and was wearing boxers and a wifebeater. I had only one thought: Beat me, baby!

  He laughed and asked, “What was that?”

  Shit! I’d said that aloud. “Nothing.”

  He smiled and I was glad I was sitting down because I became weak in the knees. He gazed at me with those sexy bedroom eyes. “Theresa.”

  The way my name rolled off his accented tongue made my legs spread by their own accord. “Yes?”

  “Remember when you told me to come to your room if I needed anything?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need something.”

  “What?”

  He leaned over until his mouth was mere inches from mine. “You.”

  When our mouths joined, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was just the beginning though. I wanted to feel the rhythm of his talented tongue on my other pair of lips. As if reading my mind, Tony pushed me back on the bed and began a slow descent from my mouth to my throat, then to my chest. He paused to show equal attention to both of my breasts and nipples. His hands were as busy as his tongue. One caressed my ass while he inserted three fing
ers of the other hand in me.

  “Mmm…,” I moaned.

  His mouth traveled down my stomach and finally to my flaming heat. He licked the fingers he took out of me one by one, then used his hands to lift my hips so he could have better access to the essence of me. He first licked each of my thighs, then kissed me between my legs before using his tongue to pleasure me in the most erotic way. “Ohh…Tony! Give it to me now!” He lifted his head long enough to push his boxers off and place his chocolate-colored dick at my pussy’s entrance. My femininity practically sucked him in.

  “You feel so good, baby!” Tony said as he pushed and pulled in and out of me. He mumbled something, but it was said so fast, I couldn’t understand him. My vaginal muscles clenched him as a climax ripped me from my head to my toes. Before I could fully regain my composure, Tony had me on top, his mouth was fastened to my nipple, and his hands were around my waist, guiding me as I rode him up and down. “Shit! You feel amazing, Theresa! I’m about to cum, baby!”

  “You call me baby like that again and I’ll be cumming with you.”

  “Baby…baby…baby.”

  “Cum with me, Tony!” I started moving up and down faster. He flipped me over and began riding me doggie-style. I could tell this was one of Tony’s favorite positions by how hard he rode me. He gripped my waist, licked my neck, bit my ear, and pulled my hair. I could feel the front of his powerful thighs smacking the back of my thighs. I also felt the familiar sensations of an orgasm.

  “I’m there, Theresa! Cum with me, baby!”

  I did. I felt Tony shoot his load all the way to my stomach. He practically collapsed on my back. He rolled over and pulled me on top of him. We covered ourselves with a sheet. A half hour later, Tony woke me up for another round. This time, I satisfied a craving I’d had since first meeting him. I licked him from base to tip and everywhere in between. I had his balls in my mouth as I masturbated him to give him double the pleasure. His dick was my chocolate ice cream cone, and I licked him like it was the Fourth of July.

  The sexual trysts between Tony and me were amazing. I’d become a FANatic of his. Our appetite for one another was insatiable. He only ventured into his room for work clothes. Tony and I went to several events together. We went to movies and out to eat a lot. Occasionally I would surprise him at work. On Sundays we would attend church together. I could see myself changing for the better. I was no longer a fidgety little girl in church. When I felt myself become antsy, it was as if Tony knew and he would grab my hand. Mrs. Williams would catch my eye during service and flash me a knowing smile. I realized that she was happy for me. Tony was like a breath of fresh air in my life. We complemented each other. As much as we enjoyed going out together, we would have lots of fun relaxing in the living room watching television or playing cards or dominoes. Sometimes I’d lie across Tony’s chest and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. We would lounge on the couch and listen to ballads. Love ballads. I didn’t know how he felt about me, but I loved him. What had started out as lust, which had got fulfilled time and time again, had turned to love. Two weeks later, I found out how Tony felt about me, when he dropped to one knee in front of my church family and asked me to be his wife.