Fantasy (6 page)

I moved the bottle in and out of me at a snail’s pace, and I closed my eyes listening to his heavy breathing and picturing a real dick inside of me. We must have exploded at the same time, because I heard him moan loudly, and when I sat up I could see his cream covering the steering wheel and the front of his suit jacket. We were at the gates of the house by then, and from my positioning in the back I could see him wiping his mess up with a handkerchief. I rose up, and wiped my juices from the bottle and set it back in the ice bucket as if nothing had happened, afterwards straightening my clothes and primping in the mirror to make sure I looked good.
The good doctor and his wife greeted me with open arms, and after a brief tour of their estate I was shown to my suite, where I would be for the next couple of days. Later that night I would be escorting them to the swing party, and I needed my beauty rest because those parties always get wild.
By nine we were dressed and in the car, on our way to a night of pleasure. Dr. Montgomery cracked open the bottle of Dom as soon as we got in the car, and I smiled and glanced at the driver as I held my cup over for a drink. Mrs. Montgomery was a nervous wreck, but I assured her she would be fine, and to just relax and have a good time.
My connection met us at the door, and after a brief introduction we were escorted into the main foyer for the party. Now, most people expect to walk into a swing party and see people having sex all over the place, and everyone walking around naked. Don’t get me wrong, though; in some establishments it is exactly that way. But normally when you have a private party it’s a little more structured, and although by the end of the night it may be a wild encounter, you have time to warm up.
We walked in, me on one arm, his wife on the other. I greeted a few people that I recognized and peeped out a few men and women that would be great for my team. Most of the people came as couples, but there were a few singles floating around, such as myself. We mixed and mingled and were having a good time. When I saw the Montgomerys walk off to a room with another couple, that was my time to do some investigating.
I must say, I was still curious about the driver. I didn’t immediately rush out to him, and I made a couple of connections while inside. Stuffing the business cards that I collected into my clutch, I snuck out of the front door discreetly and walked down the lit trail to the car.
The driver was watching a small television when I got up to the car. He didn’t notice me until I got right up on the car and tapped on the window. He jumped a little and rolled down the window when he recognized my face.
“Hello, madam. Are you leaving the party so soon? We just got here under an hour ago.”
“Actually,” I said with a devilish grin lighting my face. “I came to see if we could finish what we started earlier. Maybe roll around the back near the garden where no one can see us.”
He turned the television off quickly and was out of the car and in my face before I could change my mind. I didn’t say anything; I just led him around the side of the mansion and toward the gazebo that I had spied from the balcony when I was in the house. This garden looked just like something out of a fairy tale, a lake with swans floating in it and everything.
I had opted to leave my panties at home because I knew I would try to get back with the driver before the night was over. We found a nice, heavily wooded area where we could see if someone was approaching, but they wouldn’t see us until they got up close.
I stood taking in the beauty of the garden, and the driver dropped to his knees in the grass and put my leg up over his shoulder. He didn’t waste any time connecting his tongue with my clit, and I held my gown up with one hand and his head with the other, keeping my balance. I had to stop him and pull the dress off so that I could lie down in the grass and enjoy the tongue bath I was receiving.
He fucked me with his tongue and fingers, and I was just about going crazy. I wanted him inside of me so bad. Before I could ask, he pulled a condom out of his pants pocket and slid it on. For a white boy he was beyond blessed, and soon after I was able to feel that blessing inside of my walls.
He dug in me deep, and it took all of the strength I had to be as quiet as possible so that we wouldn’t get any attention from the house. He sat down in the grass and pulled me on top of him, and I rode him without mercy while I held onto him around his neck. He had it going on like that, and I was thoroughly satisfied with his skills.
We rushed and got dressed when we were done, and I snuck back into the house to check on the Montgomery couple I got in just in time to see them coming out of the room. Mrs. Montgomery’s hair was tussled all over the place, and both wore satisfying smiles on their faces that mirrored the couple opposite of them. I took Mr. Montgomery’s other arm, and we made our exit. We were home in no time.
I enjoyed the stay—and the driver—for the rest of the weekend, and was sad I had to leave when Monday came around. I didn’t count the money they paid me until I was back on the plane, and they paid me more than triple what I charged them for the setup. When I moved the money envelope, to turn my phone off as the stewardess had instructed, the drivers card fell off it and in my lap. I smiled to myself and programmed his number into the phone before shutting it off. I would definitely be contacting him again.
Once I got home I was able to relax, but only for a couple of days. A surgeon that I had met in D.C. contacted me about a date for Saturday night, giving me only a day and a half to come up with someone. After taking his call, and finding out exactly what he was looking for, I went to pack a bag for D.C. As always, the job of a headhunter is never done.

“Auntie, I don’t want to ever in my life hear about how you suck Davie’s dick. You done fucked up my whole mental,” Ricky said with her tiny, cute, mocha-colored round face screwed up. She tried desperately to erase the image of her Aunt Miranda performing oral sex on her Uncle Davie.

“I’m just trying to tell your little ass what you need to know about keeping a nigga. It ain’t all about staying in shape and keeping your hair and nails done. All that shit is a plus, but you gotta keep your man satisfied, if not . . . ”

“What you mean,
if not
?”
“Ricky, what’s the one thing Auntie told you on your wedding day when your mother was kicking all that sentimental shit?”
A smile crept across Ricky’s face as she quoted her aunt’s favorite line, “Never let your man leave the house hungry or horny—”
Cutting Ricky off, Miranda jumped in finishing the sentence, “’Cause another bitch will surely feed ’em and fuck ’em. Now have Ming Lee drop them kids off over here so you and Quentin can have some alone time.”
“Auntie, our nanny’s name is Anna, not Ming Lee
or
Sue Chin.”
“Whatever her name is, have her drop them chaps off over here. You need to do like them little Destiny Child girls said, and spend some time catering to your man.”
“Alright, Auntie. I’ll have her bring them over. I’ll be by to pick them up first thing in the morning.”
“Let them stay until Sunday evening. Spend the entire weekend with your man. I don’t want you to call me ever again crying because your husband says that you’re not taking care of his needs.”
“Bye, Auntie! Bye!”
“Bye, baby, love you.”
“Love you, too.” Tossing her Blackberry over onto the passenger seat, Ricky turned the stereo up blasting the sound of Faith Evans. Feeling what Faith was singing, she began singing along, “
Even though my money changed, I tried my best to stay the same. But you know with more money more problems came.
” Tears burned the outer corners of Ricky’s eyes. begging to be released, all because Faith’s lyrics were hitting so close to home.
It was all good before the money; I swear it was,
Ricky thought, mashing harder on the gas, pushing her brand new Benz truck faster down I-485. It was one of the luxuries that her career as a national bestselling author had afforded her. Buying that truck had been the highlight of her month. It was a beautiful mint green 2006 ML500. She’d walked right into the Mercedes dealer and paid cash for it two weeks earlier.
Now she felt like the same money that had allowed her to do such a wonderful thing was causing problems in her marriage. Before the money they were so happy. As she drove, Ricky reflected on their relationship before the seven- and eight-figure deals, before the expensive cars, before the beautiful house in the exclusive Ballantyne section of Charlotte. The sex that Quentin now felt deprived of use to be hot, heavy, and regular. Their heated conversation from earlier in the day played over and over in her head. “You don’t even have time to give a nigga head no more.” Quentin had said, lying in the bed, his erection poking through the top sheet as he watched her getting dressed.
“Not now, Quentin. I’m late for an important writer’s conference.”
“You’re always in a rush to go somewhere when I wanna fuck.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be in a fuckin’ rush if I hadn’t overslept. And if you’re wondering why I overslept, it’s because I was up ’til three a.m. waiting for your ass to come home. And maybe had you come in at a reasonable hour you could have gotten some
ass
!”

“Yeah, right.” Quentin laughed, rising up from the bed revealing his beautiful six-four nude body with skin the same color of the richest dark chocolate. His curly brownish-black hair wildly tousled upon his head from his sleep. He walked toward Ricky. She stood in their huge walk-in closet, which was the size of most people’s bedroom. His large brown dick was rock hard and pointed right at her. “I sat in this fucking house until ten o’clock waiting for you. But I guess you forgot that we were supposed to go to the movies, ’cause you were too busy hanging with your author friends.” Slipping on a pair of Carolina basketball shorts, he walked out of the closet and into their bathroom.

Ricky followed closely behind, getting right in his ear, “Hell no! Don’t you even try to flip this shit on me? We both have careers that keep us away from home. But when we’re both here at the same time, you always find time to run the damn streets with your niggas rather than spend quality time with me.”

Standing over the toilet, Quentin sighed as he began to urinate, one hand on his hip, the other holding dick. Staring at the ceiling he responded, “Oh God, you back on your shit again.”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?”
“You always on the go; then, when you stop you think that the whole damn world is supposed to stop for you. And let me not forget that it’s always my fault.”
“I
do not
think that. What I do think is that when our schedule does permit us to be in the same city at the same time, my husband should have the fuckin’ common courtesy to spend time with his wife.” Ricky turned to walk back into the bedroom, but stopped. Turning back to Quentin, she said, “By the way, when I’m running across the globe, I’m earning money and throwing bricks at a dream that I thought we were building together.”
“That still don’t have shit to do with me getting my dick taken care of. That’s cool, though, ‘cause ain’t shit you can say when I get someone else to take of it.”
He didn’t go there
. . .
I know he did not just go there,
Ricky thought before blowing up at him. “Go get you another bitch to take care of that dick. I hope she suck it better than I do. And I hope she can deal with all the bullshit baggage that comes with being in a relationship with you.”
“What bullshit baggage?”
“All the shit I had to go through with you in the beginning. Where do you want me to begin? Let’s see, I could start with your other bitch calling me all day and night. Or I could start with all those days you left me alone while you were on the come up. Yeah, what about all those days? You weren’t worried about if I was satisfied sexually, were you? And I never once threatened to go out and get someone else. But what if . . . what if I told you I
did
have someone to satisfy me all those lonely nights and how he made me cum back to back?”
Suddenly Ricky found Quentin’s hand wrapped around her neck and shoving her out of the bathroom and into the closet. She had gone too far and now was terrified of the outcome. Quentin had never laid a hand on her before. Still holding Ricky by her neck, he leaned over talking through clenched teeth, “What are you telling me, Raquel? Are you telling me that you was fucking another nigga behind my back?”
With her heart pounding like a small child jumping on her chest, Ricky answered, “I would never cheat on you. I just said what if so you’d know just how it feels to imagine your spouse fucking someone else. Now could you please remove your hand from my neck?”
Slowly Quentin removed his hand from her neck, then he slammed it against the wall right next to her head. Ricky slid down the wall with tears pouring from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her knees pulling them close to her chest. In the fetal position, she pressed her face against her knees, smearing make-up all over her beige dress slacks. Quentin went back into the restroom, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. Stepping over Ricky, he threw on a T-shirt, sweat pants, and pair of sneakers. Without saying a word to Ricky, he left the house.
After thirty minutes of crying, Ricky finally got up off the floor. She was beyond late for the writer’s workshop. Without a doubt she decided against going. Slipping out of her pant suit, Ricky put on a white
Lacoste
polo-style shirt and a pair of
Paper Denim
jeans. Without really knowing where she was going, she grabbed her large red
Hermes Birkin
bag off the dresser and headed for the door.
Strangely, when she got outside Quentin was still there. Sitting in his Black Hummer H2, he was smoking a
Newport
while talking on his cell phone. When he saw Ricky they locked eyes. Without trying to hide it his disgust for her spread across his face. Starting the ignition in his truck, he cut his eyes at her and sped away.
Tears of confusion escaped her eyes. What had went so wrong? Why now? When Ricky saw her reflection in the driver’s side window, she was horrified by what she saw. Hers eyes were red and puffy. She quickly covered them with her
Dior
shades. Right then she knew exactly what she needed to get through her already turbulent day—the spa!
After a day of full body pampering, champagne, and a good old-fashioned heart-to-heart talk with Aunt Miranda. Sitting in her driveway, she was still confused as to why her marriage was suddenly falling apart. Her reflection of the day’s events was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. Ricky’s heart pounded a little faster when she saw that it was Quentin. Composing herself, she answered, “Yeah.”
“That’s how you greet me now?”
He can’t be serious.
“You think you deserve better?”
“I don’t even wanna get into with you li'l mama. I called to apologize. I was way out of line for all that shit that happened this morning. I’m really sorry about putting my hands on you. You know that’s not even me. That will
never
happen again.”
Ricky sat silently with the phone pressed against her ear, thinking about her Aunt Miranda’s advice.
“So you’re not going to say anything?” Quentin questioned.
Knowing that she was guilty to some extent for the problems in their relationship, she answered, “I accept your apology…but let me also apologize for neglecting your needs and our relationship. And if you ever feel that I’m doing those things again could you come to me before it gets to the point that it got to this morning?”
“Of course. You know I love you, girl.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. Why don’t you come on home so I can show you just how much?”
“I’m at the Y. We getting ready to hoop; then, I’ll be home. We still taking the kids to
Celebration Station
?”
“Nah, Aunt Miranda has them for the weekend.”
“Alright, baby. Well, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“Bye, Quentin.” Ricky closed her phone. A
couple of hours is just what I need.
She decided to give in to her man’s pleasures in a way that she hadn’t in a long while. And taking heed to Miranda’s advice, she decided that she would cater to him.