Best Black Women's Erotica (26 page)

Then I pour baby oil on his behind and down between his legs. I rub his behind and slip my oily fingers between his cheeks. It must feel good because he snatches my hands and tries to take me right then.

“Not yet,” I whisper in his ear.

“Oh, woman, you driving me crazy,” he say.

“You don't know the half,” I whisper back.

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” he say, laughing.

“Lay down, man, and let me finish my business.”

I oil his legs and rub them hard, front and back. I touch everything but Mr. Jim. Jim trying to get me to, but he know we gotta wait.

“Alright, woman,” he say, “your turn.”

He lay me down and pour oil right in the crack of my behind. He rub my behind until I think I can see Jesus. I moan, and Jim moans with me. He rub everything but Miss Lou. I gotta tell the truth and shame the devil. Jim rub my feet so good I think I will die. I didn't know feet could get you so wet. He start at my feet and work his way back up. When he get to my breasts, he could have asked me to run down the street buck-naked, and I mighta done it! He rub my breasts in a way that lets me know he has done it before, but not with me. I forgive him right when the thought comes to me. I know that he wasn't getting this from me, and part of that is my fault. Besides, we been too far not to know how to forgive. Jim must've somehow felt my thoughts because he starts to cry. I tell him it's okay and hold him. We rock each other 'til we fall asleep, oily and wet.

The next day was my grocery shopping day. I got up and took a long, hot shower, fixed my hair, and put on a little makeup. Dora, who works down at the market, say, “Girl, you look like you been getting some on the side.” I want to tell her to hush and that she needs salvation, but I just grin. I couldn't help it, but something about what she said makes me feel kinda proud. I push my pride back 'cause I wasn't looking to fall and say, “Thank you.” That got folks whispering and I let them. We live in a small town. I know folks gonna think and say whatever they want anyway.

That night, Jim came in smiling, holding flowers, and it ain't even my birthday. This our night to touch Mr. Jim and Miss Lou, and neither one of us can wait. Now, I have always had my husband's dinner on the table for him when he gets home. With the exception of the birth of two of our five children, his meal has always been waiting. This time though, I meet him on the porch. I give him some cold, tart lemonade and kiss him right on the mouth. Miss Brown from across the street is looking, but I don't care and neither do Jim.

“We better go in,” he say.

“Let her go in if she don't like what she see.”

Miss Brown must've heard me 'cause she did go in, but I saw her curtain pull back and her eye peeping through. Jim sit next to me on the porch step.

“I get to touch it tonight, don't I?” he say right up next to my ear.

His hot, sticky breath on my neck make my nipples stand out at attention and my behind got real hot. Before I could answer, Jim shock me by slipping his hand up under my dress. Now it was already dark so I know Miss Brown couldn't see nothing, but all of this is new to me. I was sure surprised, but I had one for Mr. Jim too. He reach under my dress and find me naked as the day I was born. I didn't have on a stitch of underwear.

“Louella Givens,” he say, calling me by my maiden name.

I grin, and Jim commence to laugh like I ain't heard in years. He pull me by the hand and take me in. We didn't make it to the bedroom though. Good thing the children are grown and moved out of town 'cause otherwise, they'd seen more than they ever wanted to know. Jim lay me down right on the living room carpet and pull my dress up over my head. He start to kiss my breasts, and I remind him that he couldn't use his mouth 'til the next day. He shook his head but said he wasn't going to argue. He grab my breast with one hand and start playing with my nipple with the other. It feel too good to be true. I didn't know my nipple had that much life left in it. Then I take one of his hands and put it down on Miss Lou.

“You full of all kinds of surprises, ain't you, woman?” Jim say.

He rub across my thighs real light for what seemed like hours. I want to scream, “Touch it, man!” but I learned the importance of patience. By the time Jim stroke the hairs on Miss Lou, how I want to skip over the next few days and get
right to it. Jim stroked the inside and whispered in my ear, “I love this pussy. This is my pussy.”

My husband had never talked like this to me before. Three days before I would have been shamed to hear this kind of talk coming from him, but that night I couldn't get enough. He stroked the inside of my kitty until it was hard as him. I was moaning and hollering like I was crazy. Then, when Jim stroked my spot, which by the way I wasn't aware of before then, I squirted all over the place like a man. I was shaking so hard, Jim came right through his pants.

“Woman,” he said, “what have we been missing?”

I was panting hard and smiling like a madwoman. Jim carried me to bed. I felt too weak to touch anything he had, but it was okay. I slept until twelve midnight exactly and awoke to find Jim sleeping like a baby. I waited until one minute past and pulled Mr. Jim out of the slit of his PJs and commenced to sucking him the way Jim showed me. Jim must've done thought he was dreaming 'cause he was moaning something'bout, “No, I'm married. Please don't.”

He opened his eyes and saw my mouth on him. I was looking right in his eyes. His head rolled back and he let out a moan that probably made Miss Brown across the street come to attention.

“I'm coming, baby.” When he said that, I climbed on top of him and rocked slowly, allowing him to come inside me. Jim arched his back and yelled, “Sweet Lord, thank you.”

“Yes,” I said, “I'm coming with you.”

We must've both passed out 'cause when I came to, Jim was lying next to me, grinning in his sleep. He woke up and smiled and started kissing me all over. He kissed as high as possible, and as low as possible. I stood up and bent over, and we did what we both like. We made love all day long. I fell asleep in between lovemaking and I saw my ancestors.

“Girl, you was supposed to wait,” Aunt T said. “You never did know how to wait.”

My grandma smiled. “Girl, hush. Sometimes rules are made to be broken. Besides,” she added, “y'all been waiting over twenty years to get it right.”

“Thank you,” I told them.

Jim must've thought I was talking to him 'cause I heard him say, “You wait—you ain't had nothin' to thank me for yet. Come here, woman. Let me taste you.”

ETHEL MACK BALLARD
is a social worker and freelance writer. She is the founder and coordinator of ZICA Creative Arts & Literary Guild and is currently working on a collection of short stories. A native of Cleveland, and a graduate of Howard University, she currently resides in Sacramento, California.

 

BERTICE BERRY
is the author of two novels,
Redemption Song
and
The Haunting of Hip Hop,
and four works of nonfiction. She holds a Ph.D. in sociology, is a former stand-up comedian, and lives in Southern California where she is raising her sister's three children. She is currently working on her third novel.

 

LORI BRYANT-WOOLRIDGE
is the author of the novel
Read Between the Lies
(Doubleday, 1999.) She has worked in the television broadcast industry for fifteen years and is the winner of an Emmy Award for Individual Achievement in Writing. She is the co-founder and president of Mothers Off Duty, Inc., a group committed to helping teen mothers continue their education. She lives in New Jersey where she is working on her next novel.

 

CHERYSSE WELCHER-CALHOUN
is a writer by night and a bookstore manager by day. She has published book reviews and this is her first published short story. She lives in Oakland, California with her husband, James, her two children, Henry and D'Asia, and their cat, Neferkari. She is currently working on her first novel.

 

MR DANIEL
is a Northern California-based writer, spoken word artist, and film and video curator and educator. She has curated visual media and performed her work throughout the San Francisco Bay Area. Her writing has appeared in
Hot & Bothered 2, Best of the Best Lesbian Erotica,
and
ISSUES: The Magazine for Lesbians of Color.

 

TANANARIVE DUE
is the author of
The Living Blood, The Black Rose
,
My Soul to Keep
and
The Between
. She collaborated on the bestselling novel,
Naked Came the Manatee.
Her short fiction is included in
Dark Matter
, an anthology of African American science fiction and fantasy. A two-time finalist for the Bram Stoker Award and the NAACP Image Award, this former
Miami Herald
columnist lives in Washington state with her husband, novelist Steven Barnes.

 

NIKKI GIOVANNI
is the author of thirteen books of poetry spanning four decades. She is the recipient of an NAACP Image Award and holds the Langston Hughes Medal for Outstanding Poetry. She has been named woman of the year by
Mademoiselle, Ladies' Home Journal
, and
Essence
magazines. A gardener and consummate lover of the blues, she is a professor of English at Virginia Polytechnic.

 

KAREN JOHNSON
is a well-known and prolific artist and illustrator. She has published one play and written and illustrated a children's book. She manages the San Francisco branch of Marcus Book Stores and lives in San Francisco with her husband, Greg, and their children. This is her first published erotic story.

 

B.P. JONES
is an award-winning journalist and published author. She lives in Northern California with her husband. This is her first published erotic fiction.

 

PRIVATE JOY
is a part-time poet and author of short stories and erotic fiction. She is a graduate of Fisk University and is currently pursuing her Master's Degree in counseling at the University of Texas at San Antonio.

 

AYA DE LEÓN
is an artist and youth worker in Oakland, California. Her work has been published in
Essence
magazine,
Children of the Dream: Growing Up Black in America, Go, Girl!: The Black Woman's Book of Travel
and
Spooks, Spies and Private Eyes: Black Mystery, Crime and Suspense Fiction of the 20th Century.
She was a member of the San Francisco Team for the National Poetry Slam 2000.

 

NILAJA A. MONTGOMERY
is a twenty-something African American lesbian living in Oakland, California. In addition to pursuing a career in writing, she is interested in filmmaking and photography. When she's not writing, she's working at her job in a plus size women's clothing store. It's low paying but she loves it and her coworkers.

 

RENÉE SWINDLE
received her M.F.A. in creative writing from San Diego State University. Her bestselling novel,
Please, Please, Please
, published in 1999, was a Literary Guild featured selection and has been published in Germany and Japan. She lives in Oakland, California and is hard at work on her second novel.

 

ZANE
is the author of
The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth,
and
Addicted.
She is the webmaster of
EroticaNoir.com
and moderator of a monthly erotica e-zine. She lives in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area where she is working on her next book.

BLANCHE RICHARDSON
is the manager of the Oakland branch of Marcus Book Stores, a forty-one year old Black bookstore. She is a freelance writer and editor, a mother of one, and grandmother of two-and-a-half. She is working hard on her first novel.

Copyright © 2001 by Blanche Richardson.

 

All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, or television reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

eISBN : 978-1-573-44576-4