Sexaholics (33 page)

by Pynk

November 2010

1

A Sexier Side of Me

G
irl, I started my period on my own
damn wedding night. That should’ve been a definite warning sign that my
marriage would not last through the ebb and flow, so to speak, of holy
matrimony,” Rebe Richardson said with a millisecond smirk on her chocolate
face. Her micro-braided head rolled toward the two best friends she’d
known since college. She tried to keep her words just above the blaring
celebratory music in the background.

Rebe sat upon the contemporary purple leather stool at the huge, fully packed
bar with her long, bare legs crossed like a prima ballerina. She even pointed
her toes. Her stately gams, formed from her days a dancer, extended far beyond
the hem of her little black dress. She sat to the right, with Magnolia Butler in
the middle, and Darla Howard on the other end.

The trendy hotspot, called Flavour, was decorated deliciously in pale blues
and lavender, with dark wood bar tables, draped private VIP rooms, and two
mirrored, elongated bars. Oversized plasma TVs graced every wall, showing
last-minute countdowns from most major cities. The nightclub was located in the
Coconut Grove area of South Florida, where two of the gussied-up ladies lived.
Magnolia lived in Playland, Florida.

It was New Year’s Eve.

The well-promoted, well-attended bash was wall-to-wall packed.

The sounds of Whitney Houston’s “Exhale (Shoop Shoop)”
serenaded the discolike, neon-lit room. The soft mixture of blue and pink LED
flashing-light designs bounced along the walls and from the ceiling. The glass
dance floor was a pastel menagerie of light grids that grooved to the beat of
the popular R&B music.

And it was 11:46 p.m.

“What? And that stopped you from having sex on your honeymoon night?
Because of your monthly visitor?” Darla had made sure to lean toward her
friends to speak loudly, with her light brown, precision-cut hair, platinum hoop
earrings, and liquid silver minidress. She picked up her fluted champagne glass
and took a tiny sip of the yellow label Brut, extending her French manicured
pinky as she swallowed.

Rebe squinted her nose and eyes like a foul wind had just blown by.
“Ewwww, yes, of course it stopped me,” she said, squirming in her
seat.

“I know that’s right,” Magnolia confirmed, taking a big
gulp from her blended vodka and peach schnapps. Her scarlet red nails matched
her knee-length strapless chiffon dress. Her gold satin slingbacks were high and
sexy.

“And you didn’t see to it that at least he had fun? I mean, you
know,” Darla asked.

“I did. Well, a little bit.” Rebe paused with a hold-up look for
them both. “Hey, why are you guys all up in my stuff anyway? Damn.”
She sucked her tongue and gave a sassy snarl.

Darla raised her newly threaded brows and darted her head back.
“You’re the one who took us there.”

“Yeah, well I wish I hadn’t. I was just trying to share my
wedding-night disaster with my girls, that’s all.” Rebe twisted her
glossed lips and raised her glass, tipping a swallow of the ice-cold Pierre
Jouët champagne into her mouth.

Magnolia kept both hands on her cocktail glass. “Hell, at least you had
a wedding night. It’s probably a good guess that I’ll never find out
what it’s like to even say I do. I mean after all, thirty-nine will be
gone in, ah,” Magnolia peeked at her oval diamond watch, “twelve
minutes and counting.”

Darla, the dental hygienist, tilted her head toward Magnolia as her full lips
smiled, exposing her perfect, bleached teeth. “Me too, girl. I’ll be
saying good-bye to thirty-nine right along with ya.”

Rebe added, “Please. I’m right behind both of you. I remember
when we were younger, we thought forty was damn near elderly. I mean all of our
parents were the very age we are now. Tell me, where in the heck did the time
go? My Lord.” She shook her head and gave Magnolia a reflective gaze.

Magnolia’s ginger-colored face beamed. “That’s true, huh?
It was back in 1989 when we were at Miami-Dade, cramming and partying and doing
our twenty-year-old thing. Heck, was that two decades ago already?” She
had question marks in her huge eyes.

Rebe nodded. “Yes ma’am, it was.” Her eyes shifted to her
other friend. “And then Darla, you and Aaron ran off and eloped and left
it at only two musketeers. Excuse you.”

Darla ran her fingertips along the back of her closely tapered neckline. Her
slender face indicated surprise and displeasure. “Oh please. Don’t
bring him up. Not tonight.”

Magnolia’s eyes were warm. “Darla, we love you. I know it’s
been five years since he passed, but you had a solid marriage and a man who
loved you. My relationship lasted one damn year before he up and left me, just
because I wouldn’t act like a stripper in bed, unlike his husband-stealing secretary. Aaron loved you for you, Darla. And
for that, you’re blessed.”

Darla’s honey-colored shoulders dipped. She leaned back and then
forward. “I know that. But I do miss him. Lord knows I do. But one day,
I’m gonna need to move on and get me someone, or should I say, get me
some, period.”

“But Darla, come on now. Not even one dick in five years? Not
one?” Rebe held up a solo index finger.

“No. And?”

“And, how do you do it?” Rebe asked.

“I mind my own damn business, that’s what I do. Just like you
didn’t want us up in your stuff a minute ago.” She cut her eyes from
Rebe to Magnolia, who gave her a sly grin. “And Magnolia, we know you get
more dick than all the ladies up in this club tonight put together.”

Magnolia gave a half-gasp and put her hand to her chest. “Oh please,
talking about minding someone’s business. So now I’m a slut, is that
what you’re saying? All because Rebe didn’t do her man right on her
wedding night.”

Rebe shook her head and managed a snicker.

Darla put her hand up. “I’m just saying, I mean honestly,
you’ve been in more relationships than we have.”

“I have. Yeah. You’re right. Don’t trip now just because I
can catch, you know. That hasn’t been the problem. But damn, if I’m
so successful in the bedroom, then why did Neal leave my ass for his secretary?
Hell, that was the longest relationship I’ve been in and I got dumped.
Shoot, they all leave anyway. No biggie.” Magnolia readjusted her long,
off-black ponytail, which hung down to the middle of her back. “And Trent
left, too. Went back to his baby’s mama just because she liked to have
threesomes with him. Sorry-ass fool.”

Rebe said, “Then that says a lot about him. You two were just
different. But I mean, I did hear it’s not only about how much sex you
have, but also what you’re doing in the bedroom that matters. I’d be
the first one to say I failed if that’s the case.”

“Who’d you
hear
that from?” asked Magnolia after
she took another swallow.

Rebe looked toward her friends, and then looked past Darla. “I
don’t remember. Somewhere.” Her eyes said she was distracted by
nearby testosterone. “Anyway, the point was that we women should get off
our backs and get on our knees. It’s about opening our minds and our legs.
I mean, like definitely having safe sex, but having great sex, too.”

Darla stared squarely at Rebe. “Did you hear about that before or after
you got stingy on your own wedding night?”

Rebe kept her sights behind Darla’s back. “Very funny,” she
said without even a snicker. “I’m just saying, I mean I was left by
Roderick after he accused me of being too missionary, so like I said, I know how
you feel, Magnolia.” Rebe smiled demurely, but not at Magnolia, while
uncrossing her legs.

Darla added, “Hell, I’m gonna be myself, no matter what. Screw
what they want. And I don’t care what these women out here are doing in
this crazy-ass world nowadays anyway. I’m sorry but I’ve just gotta
be me.”

Rebe batted her eyes and inched her sights back to her buddies. “Yeah,
but haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to just go buck-ass
wild and freak like there’s no tomorrow? To fuck a stranger or have an
orgy or buy all the sex toys you can and just fuck yourself in every orifice all
night long? Haven’t you been curious?”

Magnolia said immediately, “No.”

“Yes you have.”

“Orgy. Hell, no. Masturbate all night, maybe.” Magnolia took a
drink.

Rebe eyed the view behind Darla again and her cheeks began to blush.
“I’ll take the first one. Shit, I might just walk right up to
him”—she nodded toward a man sitting two bar stools over from Darla,
then slyly looked down toward her glass—“and ask him to take me home
and fuck me like the new freak I need to be. Like he’s mad about slavery
and shit. I mean fuck me like it’s 1999, instead of 2009. Fuck me like
I’m the last fuck of his life and he’s about to get hit by a Mack
truck in the morning.” She shook her torso, like she had shivers running
up and down the slit of her vagina.

Darla turned around and saw a big man, very long, like he could be maybe
six-seven if he stood, with a low-cut fade and a perfect goatee and light skin,
eyeing down Rebe like she was the last corner of Grandma’s secret recipe
macaroni and cheese on Thanksgiving Day. “Damn,” she said, turning
back around to give Rebe a high five with her eyes.

Magnolia glanced over behind Darla, too. “Yeah, right. You do that. And
then, and only then, I
will
have an orgy,” she said with
sarcasm.

“No, you won’t,” Rebe said as a dare.

Magnolia shrugged her body-glittered shoulders. “I don’t have to
worry about a damn orgy because you’re not about to say one single thing
to that man. Not Darling Rebe. And yes, he is fine now. I will say that. Yes I
will.”

Rebe straightened her back. “Yeah, well, I guess you really don’t
know me like you think you do.”

“Please. You don’t know yourself.” Magnolia looked
assured.

Rebe said, “Maybe none of us knows ourselves the way we should.”
She turned her body all the way toward them and recrossed her legs.
“I’ll tell you what. How about if for 2009, we turn up our libidos
and make some real resolutions? Some sexual resolutions. Something different.
How about if we go into the New Year shattering our beliefs about sex? Living
our sexy dreams, out loud.” She used her hands to assist her words.
“I just think we’ve set these boundaries for ourselves, and maybe
they’ve limited our ability to really experience the erotic, sexual side
of us. I mean, these comfort zones are getting about tired if you ask me.
Honestly, I’ve had enough of this frigid adulthood.” She circled the
rim of her glass with her fingertip. “I don’t know about you two,
but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I’m perimenopausal, but
I’m about to cross over the erotic line and dive off the fucking edge for
real. I’m about to say good-bye to my inhibitions. Hell, it’s a new
year.” She leaned closer toward them. “I say we lighten the fuck up
like we should have twenty years ago.” She swigged her drink.

Darla shook her head. “Rebe, girl, please. After all, we can’t go
back.”

“Who says?”

Magnolia reminded her, “We’re forty. Hello.” Her eyes said
hello
, too. “Maybe your dynamic hard body forgot your age but my
arthritic knees sure as hell remember.”

Rebe smirked and glanced up at the time on the television screen over the
bar. “Hold up now, we’re not forty yet. And for the next five
minutes, I’m about to dare even myself and open my mind and my legs in a
way I’ve never done before. I’m about to take back my sexual
freedom, and my first step is—get ready for this—I’m gonna
start stripping at night.”

Darla asked, looking amazed, “Stripping. Oh Lord, that’s the
bubbly talking now. I know you were a dance instructor years ago and all, but,
who’s gonna hire a forty-year-old stripper?”

“I already have my pole-dancing class set, if you don’t
mind.”

“What?
You
an exotic dancer?” Magnolia watched

Rebe’s eyes, which were again focused on the hunk to the left.

The crowd started to get louder.

The buzz was more intense.

Folks’ glasses were being filled to the top.

People moved closer together.

“Yes. It’s a New Year’s class specifically scheduled for
brave, sexy, daring women like me who want to break out of the box, or at least
that’s what the brochure said. So don’t hate.” Rebe again
moved her eyes to Magnolia and Darla. “Anyway ladies, what about you? What
is it that you’ve always wanted to do but never had the nerve to
do?”

Magnolia took a long gulp as the bartender walked up. She smiled and pointed
toward her and her friends’ glasses for fill-ups. The bow-tie-wearing lady
nodded and walked away. Magnolia leaned along the shiny, speckled bar and spoke
as if she were telling the FBI’s most classified secret. “Well,
actually, a few months ago I was talking on the phone to this guy, and he told
me I sounded like a phone sex operator. I mean he pissed me off a little, but
later I actually thought of what it would be like to do that. You know. Turn
someone on over the phone while they jack off, and maybe even find a way to get
paid for it.” She dropped her sexy smirk and sat up straight. “After
all, I have been jobless for nearly a month.”

Darla wore a look of wonder. “What? I know you got laid off and could
use the money, but you, Magnolia? I can’t even picture you doing pillow
talk, whether it’s for money or for free. I mean I know you get yours, but
I’m sorry, I just can’t picture it.” She shook her head.
“But I must admit, something’s gotten into you lately. Sitting up in
here with your little tight red dress on and shit. Usually, we can’t even
get you out of your velour sweats. You go ahead on.”

“Whatever.”

Rebe asked, “You mean like have phone sex with people as in on the
regular for money?”