Sixty-Nine (16 page)

Aaron had a few whiskey sours and was feeling brand-new. He was six feet tall, a redbone, had a close fade with a little gray,
a thin mustache, a buffed chest with a few gray hairs, a little bit of a beer belly, a tight, round ass, and he had strong,
hard legs with big claves, from playing baseball in college. The ladies on the beach looked him up and down, but he stayed
close to his wife, who was getting her share of head-to-toe looks herself.

A couple walked over and struck up a conversation with Aaron and Darla. It was really the young woman who flirted with Aaron
with her eyes. The man seemed to be okay with whatever his wife was fine with. And she was more than fine with Darla’s husband.

Under the twinkling stars and romantic moonlight normally made for two, the four of them talked about other vacations they’d
been on and which locales were the best, about cruising and different types of drinks, but nothing personal. Not even exchanging
names. They each knew the deal.

After lying out along the beach under the tiki torches, the four ended up putting the togas back on and heading over to the
Breezes Grand Resort & Spa, to Aaron and Darla’s third floor, one-bedroom junior suite.

As Darla drove farther on I-195, she thought back to the beautiful hotel ten years ago with the French doors and ocean-blue
quartz foyer, crystal chandeliers, and panoramic view, bathrooms with multihead showers, and bedrooms with romantic spotlights
that bounced off the natural fiber walls. Especially the mirrored ceilings throughout. She recalled that the room smelled
like Juicy Fruit gum.

There was a jade and ivory fitted bed, and the man, kind of square looking, who was in his early thirties, thin and tall and
brown, bald head, just watched, standing over by the balcony doors, facing the bed. He jerked off. Nothing else for the moment.
He didn’t talk much. He just jerked off. And that was fine with Darla because the rule was she couldn’t and wouldn’t be penetrated
by another man. Aaron being with another woman, for that night, now, was a different story.

Darla tried not to stare at the man’s long, dark penis, but it was very thin and curved and she’d never seen anything like
it. What really helped to keep her from staring was the sight of her beloved husband, Aaron, getting his dick, which she couldn’t
stop referring to in her head as
her
dick, sucked by the light-skinned woman who sat in the octagon-shaped Jacuzzi next to the king bed while Aaron stood over
the side of it, legs spread wide, hands on his hips like he was the man, getting deep throated by Linda Lovelace skills. She
used lots of spit and gripped him with both hands, going deep without any sign of a gagging reflex. Aaron looked like he was
fighting off a tidal wave that was about to hit big and hard.

The yellow woman was Cape Verdean and Welsh with an exotic look, leaning more toward her Portuguese blood. She had marshmallow
crème nails, with long flowing, spirally hair, amber honey skin, and keen features. Big eyes. Medium-sized breasts. A small
behind. She was half Darla’s size. And Aaron, though when he first saw the woman on the beach told Darla she was way too thin
to be his type, seemed to be enjoying the yellow woman’s frame way beyond his own spoken words, watching her naked body from
the reflection in the mirror overhead as she sucked him down. He seemed to have a newfound respect for the petite headed princess.
He looked down to watch close-up. He even smiled.

Darla sat on the bed and kept an eye on Aaron’s dick as it went in and out of the late-twenty-year-old yellow woman’s mouth.
His dick told Darla it felt stronger than ever.

The yellow woman backed away from his penis, but first scooped the rough side of her long tongue under his balls like a ladle
and his upper head jerked back to the ceiling again, watching. She stood, water dipping off her skin like it was in slow motion.
Her pussy was bare. She stepped out and Aaron helped her, extending his hand. She grabbed a large white towel and looked at
Aaron as she made her way to the bed next to where Darla sat. Her eyes invited Aaron to play inside of her tenderoni body.
She looked anxious to skip to the good part.

Aaron stood before Darla, his dick stuck out far enough to hang a coat on it. “Can I fuck her, baby? Or I can fuck you and
she can do something to me.”

The yellow woman nodded for either. Her man, still standing by the balcony with his hand on his walnut dick, nodded, too.

Darla only looked at the thin, beautiful lady who awaited Darla’s very own husband with an intimate, anticipatory look. Willing.

Aaron lifted Darla’s chin up toward him. “Which do you want, baby?”

Darla managed to say, after having gone this far, “I want you to do what you want.”

Aaron looked anxious and reached into his gym bag, which was on the floor near the bed. “Can you put my condom on?” he asked
his wife.

Darla sat up straight. “Yes.”

Aaron handed it to her. He then said, as though he’d better, “Wait. Let me eat you first.”

Darla put the condom on the bed and lay back, watching carefully as Aaron put his face
between
her familiar legs and licked her curly haired vagina. The
between
that only he knew so well. Darla looked up at the mirrored ceiling and saw the view from overhead, her redbone husband on
his knees between her legs, munching with an audience. She looked over at the yellow woman and then at the brown man, watching
them watch her. She felt the true meaning of three’s a crowd, feeling that four was still two too many. On her own, she could
enjoy Aaron’s tongue loving, at least she could focus on the feelings the sensation brought to bring pleasure to each other.
They’d have oral sex, and they’d have vaginal sex. That was good enough for her. This was so new, so different, that all she
could do was think about the unknown, and anticipate.

Just that quick, the brown man laid his wife on her back and went down on her, too. The yellow woman began to moan, loud.
To Darla it sounded like pain, not pleasure. The yellow woman was in a zone.

The yellow woman looked down at her man, and then at Aaron between Darla’s legs, and then at her man, and then Aaron looked
at the yellow woman while his tongue was inside of Darla, and he moaned, and the brown man watched Darla. Without looking,
the yellow woman found Darla’s right hand, took hold, and squeezed.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, eyeing down Darla’s ample breasts that spread along her chest.

Darla started to moan and again glanced up at the ceiling. It was a sight for sore eyes. Two couples, two women getting eaten,
two men doing the eating like they were devouring strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, legs spread, all in the same bed.
She couldn’t get past the sight of the freaks before her, including her, then wondering if she even qualified to be considered
one, remembering that her good girl side was being overshadowed by her bad girl side, so she assumed yes. She looked down
at Aaron, wondering how he could ever be in this situation, let alone bring her into it with him. He was her husband, and
she was his wife. This was against all the rules. They were sinning.

The yellow woman looked over at Darla’s face and pumped her own pussy harder into her husband’s face, and Aaron’s tongue stuck
deeper and stiffer into Darla’s pussy and before she knew it, she realized that Aaron came inside of his hand at the same
time the yellow woman creamed and screamed and stared at Aaron and raised her ass from the covers as high as she could. Her
legs and feet were flexed straight out. Her husband stayed with her and kept it up and she came with a begging sound like
she was being shot from a cannon, losing her X-rated mind. And the brown man stood up fast and stroked his penis, focused
and precise, he held his breath and squinted, stopping his cum by squeezing his shaft and tip extra hard. He looked like he
was about to bust.

Aaron stood up, went into the bathroom, and left Darla to watch an unknown brown man hold onto his dick, his yellow woman
coming down from her orgasm caused by the sight of Darla’s husband, eating his wife’s pussy.

Whew
, Darla said as she snapped back into reality, now turning onto Collins Avenue, but just for a second.

She remembered that right after Aaron came out of the bathroom after washing up, the yellow woman was on all fours, watching
him. Her voyeuristic man sat in a flowered antique chair in the corner. Quiet.

Aaron was hard again and took the condom off the bed and brought his dick to Darla. She took her time opening the black foil
package, looking up at him, but he only looked at the yellow woman, who squirmed in anticipation. His dick was again way stiff,
way wide, and way long. Darla managed to fit the tight condom on his penis and he patted her on her shoulder, like “I’m going
in,” and walked over to the end of the bed and put his hand on the yellow woman’s backside. She looked back at him with bedroom
eyes, and Darla watched Aaron stick
her
dick into the strange yellow woman’s body, and Aaron closed his eyes, pumping his ass muscles like he was digging for gold
in a cave that only needed two more good grinds to drill into the goldmine that contained his fantasy fortune. He pumped and
unzipped his eyes long enough to look at Darla.

She heard the brown man bust a nut, but didn’t look at him. She didn’t look at the yellow woman, either. She only watched
Aaron, coming inside of the rubber, inside of the yellow woman,
her
dick coming from the feeling of another woman’s pussy. A gorgeous, thin, young, yellow woman.

Darla lay on her back two feet away from them. Her nipples were hard but her hands were not on her body. They were under the
pillow that was propped under her head, balled up from bridled jealousy.

Aaron was lost and the more he came, the more the yellow woman fucked him. Aaron completed his climax, and pulled out, and
the brown man took his place in line, dick full grown again, penetrating his wife raw with his curved penis, riding her through
her fuck, hitting some erotic spot that made her howl, and managing to flip her over and fuck her missionary. Two dicks in
a row. Her pussy surrendered. Aaron lay close to Darla, condom full of his seed. He watched the couple fuck hard, and Darla
again only watched him. The yellow woman came strong.

The four spent the night together, naked.

Hours later, at six-twenty in the morning, Darla’s eyes popped open after hearing a lustful whisper, “Oh yeah. Fuck me deep
with that thick dick. Fuck me and make me come.”

The mattress moved to their grinds as they fucked under the covers. A slight squeak could be heard. The room was dark. Darla
was right next to them, and on the other side of them was the yellow woman’s husband, sleeping.

This time, now sober, Aaron looked over at his wife, saw her face, pulled out, got up, and turned on the light. “Excuse us.
It was nice, but we’ve gotta go pretty early, so we need to get ready if you don’t mind.”

The yellow woman shook her husband awake, leaned over and kissed Darla on the cheek, and in ten minutes, they were gone.

Aaron and Darla fell back asleep until the afternoon. They did nothing that day but lie out, eat, and sleep some more. She
felt the need to pray.

Darla never said another word about it. Neither did Aaron. But that night, Aaron had the hardest orgasm Darla had ever witnessed
him have in all their years. The yellow woman was in his head. And Darla was reaping the misdirected benefit.

The next day they were back in Miami, living life, working, planning their next vacation. Never again did they go to a Hedonism
retreat. Darla never wanted to experience it again. Aaron knew, even without it being said, that it would never happen again.

As Darla arrived home after her flashback thoughts, she parked her car and prepared to turn off the ignition and go upstairs
to her condo. But first she reached between her legs and felt the moisture. She’d soaked her panties from the swinger’s rewind.
She lifted the front of her black knit dress, slid her skimpy leopard print panties to the side, and stuck her finger inside
of herself, right there in her car. Her middle finger was creamy wet, juices all under her fingernail. She had to admit, that
vacation turned her the hell on back then, and even now. She’d never, ever forget it.

M
iller Lockhart lived on North Bay Road in the exclusive Key Biscayne area of South Florida in Dade County. His custom, bone-colored,
ornate Victorian-style three-story home was built over ten years ago and was over four thousand square feet. With a spectacular
pool area, it was the five-bedroom home he and his wife bought before they divorced. When he retired from Bear Stearns last
year, he paid it off. His ex-wife, on the other hand, was living with their son. She had a younger boyfriend she left Miller
for, who took her for the money she’d gotten from the divorce settlement. She was getting a taste of the real world and was
not handling the reality too well. But from what Magnolia could see, Miller, on the other hand, was.

Magnolia and Rebe had been playing phone tag. And even when Rebe called her back, Magnolia took her time returning her call.
She convinced herself she wanted Rebe to answer, needed Rebe to answer, but when she didn’t, it was almost a relief to simply
talk to Rebe’s voice mail.

Just after work, all that was on Magnolia’s mind was the peace and serenity of Miller’s place. She entered his kitchen with
her key that he’d given her the week before. Old-school Miller played a Lionel Richie CD, right now in the middle of “Three
Times a Lady.” Magnolia hummed along while dropping her overnight bag at the door, and set her purse and keys down on the
soapstone kitchen counter. She approached Miller with a kiss on the lips, standing on her tiptoes. “Sounds good, looks good,
and smells good in here. What are you cooking, sweetie?”

He stood before the stove in his shorts and black T-shirt, barefoot. “You said you liked Mexican food. I made enchiladas.”
He pulled back the foil paper from the baking dish. The steam and spicy aroma made themselves known. Extra cheese, black olives,
and green onions decorated his baked masterpiece.

Magnolia inhaled and put her hand on his back. “Look at those. You are something else. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

“I wanted to.”

She patted him on his backside. “Chef Miller, after those, I’d like to have you on a platter for dessert, please, sir?”

“I can make that happen, too.” He stood tall.

Magnolia giggled and opened the cabinet to remove two ebony dinner plates. “You’re so good to me. The other morning, breakfast
in bed. Not to mention flowers. A girl could get used to this.”

“You should. You deserve it, queen that you are.”

“Thanks my king, that you are.” She looked back at him and gave a wink. She couldn’t believe the fairy tale words she was
now hearing, and saying.

Miller took the liberty of placing two enchiladas on each plate as Magnolia held them still. She walked to the table where
he’d already placed the utensils, white wine, and ice water as she sat. He was right behind her and then sat beside her. He
said, as they joined hands and bowed their heads, “Bless us, O Lord, for these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from
Thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.”

He looked up at her and stared, releasing her hand.

Magnolia looked back at him, noticing his pause. “What?”

“Just thinking, which you’ll find I do a lot. I mean, really. Who would’ve thought? Thought I would’ve looked all around while
playing golf, taking cruises, and even to the point of walking around Walmart with one eye on the shelf and one eye checking
out women in the aisles, as well as going on blind dates…and then I meet you, the woman of my dreams, at a swinger’s club.
Two virgin-curious swingers bumped into each other at Erotic City and, well, here we are. You, Magnolia, are something else,
angel.”

“Well thanks, but I don’t know how much of an angel I am. I was coming out of a private room.”

“Like I said, angel. Highly deserving of the very charm you wear around your neck.”

“Thanks.” She gave a sexy wink and a shy smile.

They picked up their forks and dug in.

He asked, “So, have you heard from Neal?”

She swallowed her bite. “This is excellent, sweetie. Very good.”

“Thanks.” He waited.

“No.” She took a sip of water.

“Like you said, you see him at work though, right?”

“Yeah, but not as much as before. Maybe a few times a week. No biggie.”

“And so even though he’s been persistent, not willing to totally let go, you’re sure there’s no chance of you two ever getting
back together?”

“No chance. Not on my end.” She gave him full-on eyes. “Miller, there was no chance even before I met you.”

“Good. ’Cause I’ve got plans for you.” He took his first bite.

“Oh really?”

He paused to finish chewing, then swallowed. “Really. I’m telling you, if all goes well, this is it for me. I’m ready for
this. I look at us in the long term, being together for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Oh, I’m claiming this. I’ve had a taste of being alone and I choose the alternative. I don’t want to die alone. I want a
companion. Life is no damn good alone.”

“I agree.” Magnolia heard his words, and kept eating. She took a few moments, and then asked, “And since we’re asking, how
about Beth? Your ex-wife. Nothing from her?”

“Beth will always be Beth. I did ask her not to call so late, like she did a couple of nights ago when you were here.”

“But you didn’t have to.” Magnolia said, yet in her head wondered why his ex-wife still felt she could.

“I needed to. Her calls did wake me up at times.”

“Okay, I just didn’t want you to say it because I’m in your life now. I don’t want to be the reason.”

“Done deal.” He leaned over and kissed Magnolia on the cheek.

She smiled and took another bite.

He asked, “So, are we going to your grandmother’s house so I can meet her next week?”

“Yes. After church. You sure you’re ready for that?”

“I am. I’m ready for whatever’s in your life.”

Magnolia put down her fork and rested her elbow along the table, her chin to her inside palm. She examined him closely. “Are
you real? Wait, let me pinch your amazing ass to see.” She grabbed the skin of his forearm and squeezed.

He laughed, moving himself away as though ticklish. “You’re something else. And yes, I am real. And I was thinking about something.
Angel, I want to help you find your father. I have a friend who can help out.”

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “Honestly, after all these years, I don’t want to know who he is, Miller.
And besides, my grandmother knows. I’ve just never asked. Some things are better off left alone.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” He ate another bite and sipped his wine. “Does your grandmother know my age?”

She nodded and leaned forward.

“Cool.”

“Miller, I’m cool with you. You just keep showing me who you are by what you do. And from what I’ve seen you doing, you’ve
got my full attention. I told you before, you’ve also got my heart, and my trust. To lose it, it’s on you.”

After a few minutes, he stood and took their plates to the sink. He said, “Just remember what I said. My search is over. Period.”

“Okay now,” Magnolia told him with a big grin that seemed sure.

But it was her heart that felt like it was only half sure. It braced itself for a usual replay of her past.

And just in case, for a moment, she imagined him not being who he said he was. It was her usual mind-visitor named Doubt.

Doubt had beaten her into shape for years, just from relationships not lasting.

From saying I can’t live without you, to managing to live without you.

It was the doubt that made her a bit more reserved than she wanted to be.

Reserved just enough to wonder at that very moment,
Why is Neal being so unusually quiet?

Magnolia spoke from the place where Miller explored that was bringing her to a slow, lustful, dizzying place that made her
want to talk with her eyes closed. “I’ve never been made love to. Like really made love to. Like I want to stay close to you,
like this. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.” It was all brand-new to her.

“Yes.” His precision grinds had soul.

They lay naked on his king bed. The headboard was dark leather. The bedding was blue and gray striped. His deluxe bedroom
had vaulted ceilings with exposed beams. The amber light added a subtle glow, floor to high ceiling, and upon their bodies.
Her gardenia scent was potent. The Hugo Boss cologne he’d sprayed added to the manly allure of man-to-woman bonding. His testosterone
and her estrogen mixed well together. His strand and her strand of DNA were in the other’s brain, making love. Dopamine at
work.

She purred. “You’re a great lover.”

He growled. “So are you.”

Another five minutes just as they were, and then she said with a sultry voice, “Baby, turn me around and let me stand at the
end of the bed, and do what you did when I was in your swimming pool last weekend. Please.”

He was on it without hesitation, pausing and easing himself off of her. She got up and stood at the foot of his bed. “Let’s
try it this way,” he said, propping up a pillow along the mattress, under her knees as she got on all fours. “Now lower your
head and poke out your rear end.”

She did.

He kept one foot on the floor, and the other foot on the bed, he rose up as high as he could, pressing her down even lower
so he could hit the top of her vagina at an angle, her light brown apple bottom was positioned before him, ready to submit,
and he inserted himself, bare, just like they’d done ever since they’d gotten their negative blood test results just before
the first time they had sex, the day after they met.

He grabbed the width of his dick and stuck himself inside of her soft opening. She gripped him with her anxious sugar walls,
receiving him fully and pressing herself back toward him as he pressed in toward her.

And Magnolia began making that sound. The same sound she made when he had her in the pool. The sounds of a car that’s been
sitting out in the cold for too long, and now someone has finally turned the key that fits, the key that’s trying to get it
to start, trying to get it to kick over. It was a revving rumble, like a humming sound, a dick to pussy winding sound, almost
as though in pain, yet with a tad bit of ecstasy. Magnolia’s head was to the side, her eyes were closed, her mouth was open.

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she was going nuts.

His rear entry pussy fucking was fucking her up. As he thrust his hips, he aimed at an angle, downward, and then he switched
up, aiming his angle toward his foot. He was at times very deep, and then at times shallow enough to add the right amount
of pressure to Magnolia’s soft yet rough spot, and he could tell when he hit it by her pleasure screams. He made sure he had
a precise, direct hit, using his hands to grip her womanly curves that flowed from her waist to her hips. If he’d had neighbors
close by, they would have known he was fucking, because all she said while sucking on her teeth was, “Shit. Shit. Shit,” over,
and over, and over again.

On her own, she brought her hand down between her legs to rub her fingers along her excited clit, and her orgasm approached
fast. She suddenly stopped touching herself, as her new king conquered her by taking her to the greatest height while she
ran around in the kingdom of her spinning head, and again yelled, “Shit.” She unraveled and froze.

In two minutes, Magnolia had Miller’s dick in her mouth as he stood and she lay across the bed on her stomach, bobbing him
into ecstasy with two hands serving a tight grip, standing in as her vagina, and a wet, willing, sucking mouth, and even as
quiet as he was while he fucked, he did manage to say, “Will you marry me?” And then he came.

Magnolia tensed up and took his release into her mouth, swallowing twice to accept all of him the way she’d done before. The
way she’d done for no other man. It was a real sexual resolution that she’d vowed to try. And Miller was the lucky winner
of her newfound bravery. She backed away and could focus on nothing but wondering if his out-of-the-blue question was out
of temporary orgasm insanity.

He looked down at her. His face was flushed, and his hairy chest was, too.

She morphed into a sitting position. “What did you just say?” easing her ear toward him.

“You heard me.”

“Miller, you asked me to marry you?” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“I did.” His breathing was unsteady.

“You asked me now?”

“I did.” He looked no nonsense.

“You cannot be serious.”

He had one hand on his hip and his other hand on his flaccid penis. “I am. I don’t have a ring, I know that’s not the best
way to do it, but I’m ready to go get the ring you want. Tomorrow if necessary. Hell, now, dammit.”

“I’m just…I mean, this is what I wanted. I’m just a little surprised by your timing.”